Psycho stood alone in the mud, watching the Systie aircar break apart above him. Direct hit! The sky was his! He let loose another burst, giggling to himself. His sky—his! The other aircars circled, warily.
"Systies! Systies! I'm here! Right here! Can't you see me? Closer! Come closer! I want to kiss you!" Psycho burst into demonic laughter. "Just a little kiss! Here—taste it!" He let loose another burst, up into the burning sky. He was staggering in the mud, looking up and laughing.
Two more shattered A-suits, Dragon and Merlin dragging them, splattering through the mud. Gamma Two reached out to haul them into the aircar.
"Bring the O."
"We don't have time!"
"Bring the O!"
Another corpse, this one charred and smoking, obscene black unreal armored body parts, all wrong, still sizzling, falling apart as they slid it into the car. Alien limbs, twitching. Alien blood, hissing onto the deck. A revolting stench.
"Scut! Is that it?"
"Another attack! He's launched!" A warning from Whit.
Psycho fired immediately, a long tacstar burst. The ground shook. The aircar shrieked.
"Board, Psycho—now!" Dragon and Merlin leaped in. Then Psycho hurtled in head-first, his chainlink slamming against the ceiling. The aircar moved, picking up speed, rain and spray hissing over us from the open door.
"Wait! Don't leave us! Take us! We helped it!" A Systie A-suit was running alongside—it was Millina.
"Shoot her," Dragon said, reaching for his E. I came to life, my one good hand locking onto Dragon's arm.
"No!" I shouted, "Help her! She shot the Systies! I saw her!"
"What do we do? God!" Whit hesitated, the aircar gliding forward slowly, barely moving, the Systie aircars already on their firing runs.
Valkyrie leaned out the door, extending her E in one hand, barrel out. Millina ran alongside, her arms outstretched. Only an instant, for Millina to decide. Gamma Two, Legion, her slave, leaning out with her E, the barrel pointed right at Millina. Pale green eyes, a whole new world, life or death, reach out and taste your fate. Millina seized the barrel of the E with both hands. Her feet left the ground. Valkyrie and Dragon hauled her in. She collapsed on the deck, gasping, hysterical. Whit hit the throttle and the aircar spat flame and the assault door slammed shut and Fernveldt blurred and vanished in a flash of tacstars.
"Thinker's stable."
Stable, stable, stable, echoing in my helmet. Someone opened my visor. It was Valkyrie, a flash of her pale face, icy green eyes. She turned away. Pandemonium erupted. I desperately tried to get off my back and crawl over to Priestess—the pain was overwhelming. Somebody screamed, and I think it was me.
"One's bleeding. I can't stop the bleeding!"
"Give me the cyro!"
"Hold still there—don't move it!"
"Open the visor."
"Coolhand—Deadman! Help Coolhand!"
"Priestess! Can you hear me?"
"Gamma, gimme a charge!"
"Priestess is hit bad!"
"He's not breathing!"
"Sassin! He's alive!"
"The charger! Quick!"
"Deadman! Hold still!"
I forced myself over to Priestess's prone A-suit, the car whirling around me, cold sweat on my brow, acid burning in my mouth.
"Priestess—Priestess!" Her visor was open. Her eyes were open. She gasped for air. Valkyrie was unlinking Nine's armor—she had been hit in the chest. Blood oozed out of the armor. My crude medpads fell away, soaked in blood.
Another scream. This time it was not me. Dragon tossed Valkyrie a bloody biotic charger. She pressed it onto Priestess's scarlet chest. Priestess's eyes flickered and closed. She breathed deeply and shuddered.
"Don't let her die!"
"Get out of the way, Thinker—you can't help. I need a cyro!"
"Deadman! Sassin is in bad shape!"
"What about Coolhand?"
"He's dying, Gamma! Gimme the charger!"
"Unlink, unlink!"
"Ohhh no—no!"
"Stop the bleeding!"
"Coolhand, Coolhand, can you hear me?"
"He's not breathing!"
"No! No! God no!"
"Biotic charge! Quick!"
Valkyrie bent over Coolhand, frantically working to unlink his bloody armor. Blood was splattered everywhere. It was a charnel house, a butcher shop. I struggled to retain consciousness. It whirled around me. I found Priestess's hand and took it in mine and closed my eyes and prayed. Just let her live, I thought. Just let her live! I'll do your will, I'll kill Systies the rest of my life, whatever you want! Just let her live.
"Sassin! Critical! Now!" Another mad scramble.
Shattered, scarred armor, black blood on the deck, a massive, alien limb, burnt to a crisp—the O! Its head was at my feet, encased in melted armor deformed by plasma.
The humanoid sat beside me, cradling Tara in his arms. She was pale and still, her eyes closed. Lord, she was just like an angel, a wounded angel. The humanoid was crying, running his blunt, hairy fingers through her silken hair.
"DefCorps aircars closing!" Whit shouted. "What do we do?"
Millina scrambled up to the cockpit, sliding on the blood, tearing at her visor. "Is it on Mongeran freaks?" Millina asked.
"Affirmative—two of them!"
"ATTENTION! WE ARE BEING TARGETED FOR ATTACK! HOSTILE LOCK-ON!" The aircar boomed out the warning. Millina hit the transmit tab.
"DefCorps aircars, attention! This is Millina, repeat, Millina! Hold its fire! We have seized control of the aircar! Repeat, the System has control of this aircar! Enemy units all terminated! Acknowledge!"
"Acknowledge it has control of the aircar. Slow down and land, Millina. Does it need assistance?"
"Negative. Negative, we have seriously wounded here, please escort us back to Mongera Port, acknowledge."
"They're still locked on!" Whit reported.
"Lock on lifted," the ship corrected her.
"Slow down, Millina! We're coming alongside. Who is on board? Report!"
"DefCorps, our comrades are dying! Escort us in! Alert the port!" Millina took her hand off the transmit tab. "Don't slow down! Fast as it can! The bastard is coming alongside us."
"Psycho," Dragon said cautiously, "take position by the door. Pilot, you do exactly as I say. Be prepared to take evasive action."
"Affirmative! Do it quick, whatever it is!"
An enemy aircar slid close in behind us, easing in to our left.
"Nobody move! Heads down! Millina, wave at him or something."
Right alongside us now, an ugly wedge of burnt black armor ramming its way through the air, hot cenite death, all the power and pain of the System, functional and deadly and excruciatingly lovely, so lovely I could hardly believe it. Millina waved from the cockpit. The Systie pilot could see her and Whit sitting together up front.
"Millina, report its status and casualties immediately!"
"He's not buying it!"
"Whit, open the door! Psycho, chainlink! Hold on, gang!" The door snapped open suddenly, a great roar as a typhoon of air rushed in, loose gear exploding all around us. The Systie pilot's eyes widened as Five fired full auto tacstar, and the enemy aircar exploded, a blinding nuclear flash; and our own aircar was blown aside like a leaf in a storm, falling, rolling, chaos, everyone screaming, upside down, then back again, crashing down towards the deck in a wild pile of bodies. Whit regained control of the car. Dragon landed on top of me. He scrambled off, stunned.
"Deadman! Is everyone still here?"
"The door! The door!"
The door slid shut. Chaos reigned.
"Help me! It's Sassin!"
"Oh no! Where's the medkit?"
"Where's the other aircar?"