Leona could barely remember her mother. The scorpions had slain her years ago. But Leona had inherited the woman's olive skin, her courage, her honor—and yes, her wild mane of brown, curly hair that could not be tamed. Leona's hair was a reminder of the woman in the grainy old photographs. Leona didn't mind if people mocked her for being too tall, or for her scarred thigh, but this was her mother's hair, and it was not a filthy rag.
"No," she said.
The Tarmarin wheeled the tank's cannon toward her and the other humans.
With a burst of smoke, the cannon fired.
Leona's cybernetic implant kicked in.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Leona leaped aside as a shell flew toward her.
Before she could hit the ground, she fired Arondight, her loyal rifle.
Her bullet slammed into the tank's shell in midair. The shell sparked, careened toward the monastery, and burst.
Time returned to normal.
Leona's head exploded with pain. Every time she used her implant, it felt like her skull would crack. She cursed the serpentine surgeon who had installed the chip in a shadowy alley. It was subpar work. It felt like a coal in her skull. Yet it had just saved her life.
Where the shell hit, the monastery shattered.
Columns cracked and fell. The balcony—where Leona had stood only moments ago—crashed down. The roof caved in and the walls fell. Dust blew across the boulevard and bricks rained. Aliens screamed, and limbs reached out from the ruins.
Leona covered her head as rocks pelted her. A brick hit her shoulder, and she gritted her teeth.
Through the dust, she reached toward the other humans.
"Run!" she cried. "With me—now!"
They were bruised and fearful, but they obeyed. Perhaps obedience had been beaten into them. They emerged from the cloud of dust and saw several Peacekeepers racing toward them, raising riot shields and guns.
Leona knelt, slammed Arondight's stock against her shoulder, and fired.
She put a bullet through one Tarmarin's head. Another Peacekeeper fired, and the bullet hit the ground an inch away from Leona, then skipped up to kiss her hip with hellfire.
She fired again.
Her bullet tore through another Peacekeeper.
Two more of the alien thugs remained. They raised their rifles. Leona tried to fire, but her gun jammed, full of sand, and she cursed, and—
"For Earth!" rose a high, clear voice.
Coral Amber leaped forward, her white robes fluttering, her platinum hair streaming like a banner. Across her skin, her silver tattoos shone, mystical runes emitting light.
The weaver pressed her wrists together and held out her hands. A funnel of air pulsed out from her palms and slammed into the Peacekeepers.
The aliens fell back, scales cracking.
Coral's tattoos faded.
Bloody hell, Leona thought.
Using the distraction, Leona managed to unjam her gun. She fired twice within a second, killing both wounded Peacekeepers.
Behind her, the dust was settling. She glimpsed the tank rolling their way.
"Up!" Leona cried again. "Run!"
She helped the humans forward. One old woman could only hobble, her back bent. Leona held the woman's arm, guiding her forward. Coral helped two other elders. They hurried down the road. When Leona looked back, she saw the tank rolling across corpses, crushing them under its caterpillar tracks. It was aiming its cannon again.
Leona cursed.
"Wait for me, ma'am," Leona said to the elderly woman. "I'll be right back."
She spun around. She raced toward the tank. The cannon lowered, aiming toward her. The shell could easily rip through her body and destroy the humans behind her. Leona slid forward on her knees, tearing her trousers, and grabbed a grenade from a dead Peacekeeper.
The tank fired.
Leona activated her cybernetic implant.
Time slowed down for her. She fired her rifle, trying to deflect this second shell. This time, when her bullet met it, the shell exploded in midair.
The shock wave slammed into onlookers, knocking them down.
Leona hit the cobblestones, howling in pain.
A meter closer, she thought, and that shock wave would have shattered every bone in my body.
The tank was burning but still moving forward. Leona sneered, ears ringing, skin bleeding. She ran, leaped up, and hurled her grenade.
It flew into the cannon's muzzle.
Leona ran back, dropped onto her belly, and covered her head with her arms.
An explosion shook the road.
Bricks rained. Columns tumbled. The tank cracked open, spilling fire. Peacekeepers ran from the vessel, burning. Leona's ears rang. She could barely hear anything but ringing and muffled voices. She was terrified to move, terrified that the shock wave had shattered her spine, torn her eardrums, left her dying.
She tried to rise.
Her head burst with pain. She had never used her implant twice in one day—let alone twice within moments. She fell back down.
More Peacekeepers came racing through the dust toward her, shouting, aiming guns, and Leona knew she was going to die.
Silver light shone.
A figure knelt before her. The air pulsed, blasting out in a funnel.
The Peacekeepers fell.
"Come, Leona!" Somebody grabbed her. "With us! Hurry!"
Coral! Coral was holding her, pulling her up. Leona leaned against the young weaver. The woman was shorter and slimmer than Leona but surprisingly strong. They ran together.
Two of the elder humans had died, but the rest joined them, ran with them. They left the crumbling road as drones flew in, as more tanks rolled toward them. Corpses burned. Through the cover of smoke and roiling dust, the humans raced into an alley, vanishing into the labyrinth of Til Shiran.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Leona and her fellow humans ran down the alleyway, and the Peacekeepers roared in pursuit.
Giant silkworms loomed around them, clinging to the alley walls, expelling their soft fabric. The humans were running through the fabric district. On the other side of the alleyway, storefronts sold the silk. Here in the back alley, the worms toiled, each the size of a man. The humans raced between the dangling strands of fabric, ignoring the huffing worms. When Leona glanced over her shoulder, she could see only strands of silk. She exhaled in relief.
We're hidden in here.
Buzzing sounded above. Leona glanced up.
Muck!
Drones. Peacekeeper drones.
She swerved onto another road, and the other humans followed. Awnings stretched out from shops, meeting overhead. They raced through shadows. Alien merchants with a hundred legs sat in stone nooks, selling spices, gemstones, and baubles from tin dishes. As Leona and the humans ran, one woman tripped over a dish, spilling thousands of clinking, living seashells. The merchant rose, cursing and shaking a few dozen fists. They ran on.
Finally they lost the pursuit. They paused to breathe under a bridge that spanned a rocky canyon. The sun began to set, and shadows cloaked them. A handful of cargo starships hovered idly above, spewing smog that hid the stars.
Leona allowed herself a few deep, shaky breaths. She took off her hat, shook sand out of her hair, and dabbed the sweat off her forehead. She looked at the others. Thirty-two humans. Most were bleeding, but the wounds seemed superficial. Dust and sand coated them. All eyes turned toward her.
"You're safe now," Leona said. "They won't hurt you. They—"
"They almost killed us!" said a balding man. He pointed a shaky finger at her. "Thanks to you."
Leona stiffened. "I helped you. They were forcing you to clean the streets, humiliating you, and—"
"We're humans." The old man scoffed. "We're used to humiliation. We spend our lives under their heels. Do you think that was new? I've cleaned their roads, their shit, their filth a thousand times. At the end of the day, I go home. I lost my pride years ago. This time I almost lost my life."