The teleportation chamber looked identical to the others that Christie had already seen, and it was a hive of activity. Men were stacking crates and supplies in the adjoining corridors, and one room had been filled with makeshift beds, presumably to house casualties. When she took in the scene, Christie had to stop short. It was all wrong. Weapons and ammunition were being assembled, but much too close to the chamber itself. There were no barricades in place, or firing positions set up. Where was the killing zone, into which the enemy should be lured, blocked, and ambushed? Was she really supposed to believe that they were preparing to defend against an attack?
Her forehead furrowed while she struggled to process the implications. Certainly, her own theory was wrong—Rayker was not trying to protect an escape route. As far as Christie could tell, she was looking at a staging area for an assault through the teleporter.
A glimmer of suspicion illuminated the shape of the trap she was being led towards, and she scanned the adjoining hallways quickly. Off to one side of the chamber, an accessway had been opened that appeared to expose the heart of the mechanism.
Evidently, there was nothing for it but to plunge onward with all the skills at her disposal.
She tossed her hair into a wild mess, then clutched tightly at Byoran’s arms until her nails dug in. When he looked down at her, she fixed him with puppydog eyes, and called out in a loud, brash voice.
“Gosh, is that really a teleporter? It looks soooo complicated.”
Byoran’s expression grew more bewildered, but to an unsuspecting eye it might appear guilty, or panicked. Men’s heads turned, and a few smirks appeared.
Christie giggled flirtatiously, then turned to point at the accessway. “And what’s in there? More aliens?”
Byoran was stricken with silence, so a guard decided to help him out. “That space holds what you might call the keys to this contraption, miss.” He winked. “But don’t fluster our chief with too many questions, he’s got a lot of responsibilities to worry about.”
“He could do with some stress relief, right enough,” another voice said, to subdued chuckles.
Christie giggled as she leered at Byoran, who’s scowl was lost on the hardworking men, now probably lost in their own contemplations of potential ‘stress relief’. As far as they knew, Christie was one of the many scientists from upstairs, brought down to be impressed by the incredible, and unsung work the security team were doing. And so, in a moment of weary idleness, one of them had given away a vital piece of information.
Byoran grabbed Christie by the arm and led her quickly away. He remained quiet, but she didn’t sense that he was annoyed with her, or particularly worried.
Of course he wasn’t, because it was all part of the plan.
Christie now felt certain that she saw Rayker’s trap in all its brilliance. The too-obvious instruction to visit the teleporter was probably a weak-point, though a necessary one. Christie had to see the open accessway, and understand what opportunity was being presented to her.
She was well aware, as Rayker had anticipated, that the teleporter required entangled particles to be physically moved to the other sites before a connection could be activated. They did indeed function as keys to the lock, that were needed at both ends, and, so far, all the keys to the Omega site had been missing. It was now clear that they were assembled inside the mechanism here. A particularly bright, and particularly arrogant, Valkyrie captive would certainly want to find a way to smuggle one of those keys out of the base, and send it to her sisters at another site, together with a message explaining the enemy’s defensive preparations. They would then plug it into their own teleporter, at which point, the virus Rayker would have planted in the device would activate, probably plunging their facility into darkness and chaos. While the Valkyrie struggled to get control, Rayker would simply initiate her own connection, then attack with her thoroughly prepared security force.
The difficult bit was obviously the smuggling. Said captive would need to win over the affections of an insider, a man of responsibility, but also of ethics. He would have doubts about the implications of the disturbing alien technology, and the crazed woman in charge. Perhaps the possibility of facilitating an intervention from a more responsible and mature organization would sway his nerve. Perhaps all he needed was an attractive young woman, with whom he had already built rapport, to give him the push he needed. Especially when he had let her be so cruelly abused at his mistresses’ hands. It was a romantic subplot, brimming with intrigue, seduction, and excitement. If only the plucky heroine could realize how clever she was, and seize on her chance to outwit the hated and legendary Rayker. Christie giggled at the thought.
Byoran glanced at her curiously. “What’s funny?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Her thoughts were still not fully marshalled, so she continued to reflect.
The first problem was that Christie had been taken for a fool, which did not seem to fit Rayker’s style. Instead of making a show of a serious defensive position, the VennZech enforcers had taken the laziest approach possible. Did that reflect their contempt for her intelligence? Did they not yet fear Rayker’s disappointment?
On the other hand, absolutely none of them could foresee that Christie was not simply a young and inexperienced spy. She was also a trained infantrywoman. Short though the Ranger school had been, it had taught her small unit tactics, planning, and execution. It had taught her the basics of logistics, casualty care, divergent contingencies, and fallback positions. She certainly hadn’t given VennZech any indication she had that kind of knowledge. Why should she be able to tell the difference? She would see guns, crates, and men preparing, and assume that meant defense, as most civilians would.
Rayker had seen Christie’s arrogant side in her brazen undercover role at VennZech. To an immortal, a young woman might be smart, but would probably overestimate her intelligence—Christie winced as she realized how often she already did. But now she had been captured and tortured, she would be prone to taking reckless chances. Rayker probably could not understand that part of Christie’s resilience meant the ability to maintain humility and a cool head against the most painful adversity.
The final part of the puzzle was Byoran. As Christie and her fellow agents had well known, that was not his real identity. Rayker would probably have anticipated that too, hence why he had been chosen to play the savior. Christie would be able to confront him about his true name, and his crimes, and so gain another ego boost as she masterminded the rescue plan. The brilliant Valkyrie would be one step ahead, until they realized too late, that they had been craftily outmaneuvered.
“What are you thinking?” Byoran asked her quietly.
It sounded like a tantalizing worm for the conspiratorial hook, so she ignored him again. But she had to think quickly. She had a very small window to exploit her insight, and would absolutely not forgive herself screwing it up. Rayker had said that there were cameras everywhere. But what if she was wrong about that?
“Let’s go see the cavern again,” Christie said quietly, and flashed Byoran a significant look.
He nodded.
They walked in silence, and Christie remembered his odd slip-ups—using Rayker’s real name, inadvertently and referring to soldiers instead of security guards. To her, it made the whole plan seem absurdly amateur. But what if her perspective was too narrow? If Byoran really wanted to convince her that he could be a co-conspirator, shouldn’t he be more charming? Shouldn’t he be trying to build a connection? Expressing resentment of Rayker? Anything? He was certainly capable enough, and trained in the very mission he was now fumbling. But he actually seemed to be holding back—almost defensively so.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Only one explanation tied the whole mess together. Christie found it bizarre, and almost laughable. She was almost too cynical to entertain the idea, but what if it was true? Byoran was certainly afraid of Rayker, possibly even to the point of regretting his association with her. But she had given him this assignment assuming he could come up with a convincing performance, and the woman did not easily misplace her respect. But there was something that she had failed to understand about him.
When they reached the cavern, Christie observed how he reacted to the spiders. He had claimed to hate them, but now he seemed not to notice them. She stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. First he scanned around, then looked down at her in confusion. She smiled at him with a warm, and convincing expression of trust. And saw the truth written in his eyes.
He was afraid of her. And she knew exactly why.
She drove her fist hard into his gut, and as he doubled over, grabbed for the bulge concealed beneath his shirt. Her fingers clasped metal, and drew the weapon out of its holster, then she turned and ran as fast as she could for the distant workers, and the fresh tunnels they were excavating.
The world turned dark as she left the lights of the main path, and she prayed silently that she wouldn’t trip. Rough terrain hurtled beneath her feet, though she wasn’t concerned about injury. She didn’t want to look like an idiot. Any Ranger could easily outpace her, but not a normal human. In any case, she wouldn’t have long before Rayker would notice their absence in the camera feeds.
A ramp fell away beneath her into a tunnel, and Christie continued into darkness, where hundreds of feet clattered loudly against the rock and made her skin crawl with terror. Behind her, the faint sound of Byoran’s footsteps were just audible. She had at least a minute.
Suppressing an instinctive wave of nausea, she ran up to one of the worker spiders and waved frantically at it. If she was able to pull this off, her chances of success would skyrocket.
The ugly mess of insectile flesh and metal wobbled around to face her, and appeared to wait patiently. Christie did her best to reproduce the gesture she had seen the guard make in the control room. When she pointed in the direction of her pursuer, the creature turned and dutifully headed off.
Christie darted around, finding spiders and sending them after the first. They probably wouldn’t do anything more than approach Byoran in confusion, before wandering back to their work. It didn’t matter. What she needed was atmosphere.
A foot scrape echoed off a tunnel wall. “Christie?” a voice called, nervously. “God damn—get the hell away from me already.”
Christie found more spiders, but this time convinced them to follow her. Then she stopped for breath, settled herself, brushed her hair into shape, and prepared to do her job.
“Ah, my good man,” Christie said, her voice dripping with disdain. “So kind of you to catch up.”
She stayed in the shadows as the dim shape of her prey inched forward.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “This… this isn’t funny.”
“I don’t know,” Christie said, and her tone carried a hint of nastiness. “These things can be quite fun once you learn how they work. Do you want to see what tricks they can do?”
A worker decided it was bored and started to wander off, and Christie frantically waved at it until it came back to her circle.
Byoran inched nearer, still unaware of her position. “I understand that you don’t trust me—” he began,
“You understand nothing,” Christie snarled with all the venom she could muster. “I know your mind. I know who you are. How long did you think you could fool me for?”
“I don’t—what are you talking about?”
“You know exactly, Kyellan Bell.”
The announcement was met with silence. No shock, or anger. He had been expecting the accusation, but, now that things had gone completely off the rails, didn’t know how to react.
Christie snorted. “You couldn’t even come up with an imaginative cover, could you? Byoran, Kyellan… How did you even make it through SF training?”
She saw that he was trembling a little, and she strode forward with spiders at her heels. He whirled to face the sound of her footsteps, and at first seemed not to be able to make her out amidst the mass of horrifying shapes. Christie reached down and stroked one of the creatures. It seemed happy with the gesture. She reminded herself not to channel Rayker too closely.
“Now it’s your turn, isn’t it Kyellan?” Christie said contemptuously. “You’re supposed to beg for forgiveness for fighting us in the mountain valley. You’ll promise that you’ve had enough of Rayker, and tell me you can help me defeat her. Get on with it, man, I don’t have all day.”
Kyellan said nothing, but looked down. He seemed defeated, and helpless. “I thought… I thought you could offer me amnesty,” he managed in a weak voice.
“You mean your mistress told you. Just like she told you that once the virus activated, you would be able to hide and wait for the attack? What miracles she promises to her servants.”
Kyellan’s gaze turned to her, and she saw the wideness of his eyes.
Christie laughed, loudly and shrilly. “What were we supposed to offer you? A fresh start on a Helvet world? Your record of rape expunged?”
Beneath her hand, Christie felt another spider shove the first one aside, before presenting its own back. She scratched it too. By the grace of… the universe, they were starting to like her.
Kyellan shook his head slowly. “I was ready to go to prison. To pay for my crimes. I just wanted… I wanted to leave all this. To live again.”
“Indeed,” Christie said, as moved toward him. “I’m sure your victims will be thrilled that you receive that opportunity.”
She reached him and leaned forward to whisper in his ear while creatures scuttled around them. “Don’t you want one last ride? Just for the memories? There’s no-one around to stop you.”
She felt him shivering beneath his clothes, and when she touched his arm, he jerked backwards, almost tripping over a worker.
“But you don’t think I could resist you?” Christie purred. “A big strong soldier like yourself?”
“I… I know what you are,” he stammered. “You’re like her. You’re…” His voice trailed off, as if he were afraid of the name.
“Go on.”
“Night Stalkers,” he said at last.
“And you know what they say about us,” Christie whispered. “That we leave no survivors. But you got away, didn’t you? You ran through the mountains like a coward.”
“I just guided the drones,” he said. “I didn’t even shoot my rifle.”
“Oh dear.” Christie turned and strode away a short distance. Her new followers scampered after her. “You were doing so well until you tried to lie to me.”
“No, no I swear—”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me,” Christie yelled as she whirled around. “I saw you do it, I watched the video a thousand times. You fired, you dropped the tube, then you ran for cover behind a boulder. I saw you, and I watched your every step out of the valley, so don’t you dare lie to me, don’t you dare!”
Christie struggled to pull herself away from the edge as Kyellan wilted under the onslaught. Her calculated act was now crumpled beneath uncontrollable rage, and tears ran down her cheeks as her arms began to shake. In the months after the battle, Zhang had tried to stop her—said the drone footage was a waste of time. But for Christie it was part of the healing process. She had to see exactly how her friend had died, even if it had taken hundreds of hours.
Kyellan was frozen, speechless. Spiders drifted back to their work. Christie was left with nothing but a cold chill, and a horrible sense of emptiness. But it still wasn’t over.
“No, Kyellan, we will never stop hunting you. One of our—” She gulped back tears. “One of our sisters died on that craft you shot down. Others were wounded. They have to live with the trauma, just like all the girls you raped.” She spit the last words, and felt a rush of joy as the cowering man flinched.
“Please,” he begged, and began to weep. “Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Then, when she managed to regain her composure, Christie smiled. “Rayker has told you to fly a teleporter key over to one of our sites. I am supposed to give you some kind of password that proves that I sent you. I could lie so easily, and you’d never know. They won’t shoot you. They’ll take you in, then take apart your device and torture you until you confess. You’ll be familiar with our techniques; we learned them from the same place Rayker did.”
Kyellan cradled his head in his hands. “I know that I’m evil,” he muttered. “I know I deserve to die. I’m sorry about your friend and about those girls. I can’t change it. I just want this to end. But, if I cross Rayker… what she did to you was just for fun.”
Christie laughed. “Rayker. Even as our army closes on this fortress, you think she’s in control. She is one, we are many. Like the stars in the night sky, we number, and we are everywhere. We infiltrate corporations and governments, and pass through the void that separates them with impunity. More than that, Kyellan, you know well. While we do all this for the protection of humanity, Rayker cowers in her burrows and hunts for scraps of power.”
Kyellan wiped his eyes and looked up. “I knew that was the truth. It’s always the same—those that go missing. They found something no-one else could find. Or something humans aren’t supposed to know about.”
“Hmm,” Christie turned away dismissively. “It is a righteous cause,” she intoned. “Only the just can pursue it, not the wicked.”
Kyellan jumped to his feet. “This place is evil,” he insisted. “I don’t know what it does, but… but I can feel it. And Rayker doesn’t know either. Her master leads her around, but she’s just as blind as I am. We’re not supposed to be here—I believe that.”
“Precisely,” Christie said in a bored voice. “That is why it must be retaken. My sisters will die in the thousands to break into this place, so they can seal it away from humanity. They will never stop until they succeed.”
“I can help,” Kyellan said, and his voice was almost pleading. “Maybe nobody has to die. Maybe I—” he swallowed. “Maybe I can earn a little redemption?”
“Maybe,” Christie turned to him and smiled a treacherous smile. “If you are brave enough. You will exchange Rayker’s trapped key for a clean one and take it to the location of the site entrance near Rackeye. You will approach unarmed, and you will admit your guilt to the mountainside. You will say ‘I am Kyellan Bell, and I shot down Bunny.’ Then you will find out if I judged you worthy, or if I betrayed you.”