by kai
January 2000
The Second Millennium passed in much the way of the First: drunken revelry liberally mixed with equal parts trepidation, mild alarm and indifference. However, despite rampant fears, the dire prognostications about 'Y2K' and the 'Second Coming' never materialized. In fact, in North America, the media focussed on the more mediagenic shortage of champagne rather than the less noteworthy shortages of bottled water, first-aid kits and pre-fab bomb-shelters.
And, although thousands of worried Americans moved from the cities to the country-side, sport utility vehicles crammed with water, freeze-dried food and propane, hundreds of thousands more stayed home, got drunk, watched 'The Ball' drop and the seemingly ageless Dick Clark ring in yet another 'New Year's Rockin' Eve'.
The scene was repeated, with minor cultural variations, around the world. Everywhere on earth, people partied. Hard. Stockbrokers, herdsmen, cab drivers, school teachers, tribal elders, from pole to pole, north, east, south and west. In cities, deserts, on farms, mountain tops and islands: most of earth's population over-indulged on December 31st and awakened to inevitable hangovers the next morning.
And then, outwardly clinging to rationality and yet nursing secret, atavistic superstitions and dread, they waited for the world to end: for computers to crash, for planes to fall from the skies, for the stock market to plummet. They waited -- some with firm belief, others with skepticism -- for Armageddon.
Five years passed. Then ten. And twenty.
Admittedly, some computers did crash and a few planes fell from the skies. At statistically predicted rates, of course. The stock market did indeed plummet eventually, and then rebounded. And the Greenhouse Effect, officially recognized in 2032, resulted in measurable, planet-wide climatic alterations, followed in some cases, by famine, flood and social disintegration.
Smaller, less stable nations fell and then rose again with new names, borders and allies. However, most major nations from the previous century, including those in Western Europe and North America, remained with their borders mostly intact. The ozone hole grew wider and the incidence of skin cancer rose along with the price of oil. And religious fundamentalists furiously read and re-read their scriptures and readjusted the date of the Rapture forward.
But as time passed without major cosmological or theological incident, so did the fear. Advances in genetic engineering had eliminated many of the illnesses that had dogged 20th century Earth, and computer technology also made enormous strides, heralding a new age of quantum computing.
Therefore, as the year 2100 approached -- without the assistance of Dick Clark, who had died earlier in the century at the ripe old age of 119 -- millennial fever had abated. Most of earth's residents looked forward to the new century and the promise of a golden age with enthusiasm and very little foreboding.
Thus, when the true Apocalypse arrived -- when Death finally rode from the sun on a pale horse, titanium sleek and gleaming, his three brothers on soot-streaked, nuclear-powered steeds beside him -- Humanity was caught unawares. In fact, initially, only SETI (resurrected in 2018 by wealthy philanthropist Paul del Madrio Sato) noticed. Certainly no one on Earth fully understood the true threat the Arrivals posed.
And so, while the international scientific community rejoiced at First Contact, feverishly poring over gigabytes of raw science data, while philosophers and religious leaders pondered the implications of the new Arrivals, while Earth's governments dusted off Alien-contact contingency plans and hastily mobilized their armed forces, it was already much too late for earth's doomed billions.
"This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines
and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest."
-Evangeline, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Earth, circa 2147 CE
Washington State Rainforest
North America
Crouched on a branch ten meters above the forest floor, Blair sought his companion with worried eyes.
"How many?" his nearly subvocal whisper barely vibrated the still, damp air around them. Beside him, Black Kali, Jim's battle cat, twitched restlessly, fur brushing against his bare thigh. Her gleaming yellow eyes watched the Hunters move stealthily through the dense vegetation below.
Two and a half meters away, nestled in the crotch of a massive branch and nearly invisible in the concealing foliage, Jim tapped a closed fist on his open palm and held up six fingers: a Hunting Pod.
Shit!
A spike of fear was followed swiftly by a familiar keen academic thrill: a Hunting Pod! Few scientists had ever studied Asuran social behavior while on Hunt. Of that scant handful, very few had ultimately survived to file their reports: soft-handed scientists didn't survive long in the Hunt or in the Forest.
As guide to a sentinel in the field, members of the elite brethren of Rangers, Blair was a rare exception. Although between the weapons' and tree-climbing calluses, he was far from soft-handed and his scientific knowledge was largely, and regretfully, self-taught.
In another life, one in which Humans were free and cities were centers of learning rather than of oppressed, enslaved misery, he might have been a scholar. His relentless curiosity and exuberant nature would have led him to study far-flung cultures, to haunt the stacks of university libraries, teaching, arguing logic and rhetoric, compiling notes, writing papers.
In an even mistier might-have-been, he might have shaken the bone-rattle, worn the tattoos and face paint of a tribal shaman. A keeper and seeker of knowledge, he would have taught bright-eyed children the lore of their ancestors, healed the sick, comforted the bereaved, and exorcised the darkness born of ignorance and evil.
In the bleak present however, amidst the ruins of their fallen civilization and far removed from either of those pastoral possibilities, he stalked the damp, rough branches of enormous, mutated conifers and deciduous trees. He ghosted along the Forest floor tracking, gathering intelligence with Jim and Kali beside him.
And killing.
He closed his eyes briefly against the pain, shoulders overburdened with the weight of death, of the weaponry in his pack. Blair cherished his mate, the mellow hum of affection that oscillated along the Pair-Bond between them and the lesser affinity bond he and Jim shared with Kali. He relished the burn of adrenaline, the thundering of his heart, the sweet ache and stretch of muscle and tendon as he leapt from branch to branch, slithered through the undergrowth in pursuit or retreat. And he loved reconnaissance: observing and analyzing the behavior of the Asuran Hunters, with the few anthropology and psychology texts he'd scavenged helping him predict their behavior and make guesses about their culture. Perversely, he even loved the ache behind his eyes and breast bone resulting from over-stretching his developing empathetic and shamanic abilities.
But he despised the killing.
In the abstract, protecting the tribe was acceptable, desirable. But sometimes, he felt the persistent stickiness of old blood on his hands. And the screams of the restless, Alien dead and their angry, bereaved kin would haunt him, waking and sleeping.
Blair leaned forward slightly. The leather harness pinched his armpits and the kevlar tether anchoring him to the tree trunk pulled taut. Below them, the Pod broke formation and spread out through the forest, searching in sub-groups of two.
Like humans, the Hunters formed partnerships -- which the Rangers called
Pairs -- in patterns of two or occasionally four. Pods were nearly always
composed of three sub-groups, two in each, an 'alpha' and a 'beta'. The
alpha appeared to be the more socially assertive, tended to be more aggressive
on the hunt and seemed to be the mission leader. Additionally, within the
Pod, there seemed to be an Alpha Pair, which was responsible for mission
planning and
coordination. Occasionally, a seventh Hunter might join -- perhaps
a specialist, advisor or observer. But, in general the Hunters' peculiar
cultural aversion to odd numbers -- even numbers were more harmonious --
dictated that Pods be composed of even numbers of males. According to the
social profiles cobbled together from field agents' reports, females appeared
to be cloistered in harems, safely away from battle.
Named after the ferocious elemental titans of Hindu mythology, the Asuras -- colloquially known as Hunters -- were known to be ruthless killers while on Hunt and merciless slave-masters in the captured Human cities. With virtually no warning, the Asuras had swept down upon the planet, swiftly destroying earth's major cities and subjugating its citizens. A few signals captured by SETI, some enormous blips on radar, panicked sightings by NORAD and other international monitoring agencies and then unmitigated, world-wide carnage. There had been no advance communications, no negotiations. Just death. And according to grim legend, the city streets had run with blood.
The Humans unfortunate enough to survive slaughter in the cities became slaves. Those in the country-side were hunted for sport. Rebels (black, brown, red, white and yellow united for once against a common enemy) shrewd enough to outwit the Hunters formed a secret international federation, hiding in underground bunkers, coordinating their activities through a global pirate communications network and bitterly plotting the downfall of the Asuras and eventual reclamation of the earth for Humanity.
Shifting to ease a cramp in his left thigh, Blair watched uneasily as the Hunters moved away from their position, northward into the trees. Presumably they sought out the scent decoys that he and Jim had placed earlier. Each decoy was designed to distract the infuriatingly sharp Asuran olfactory senses. But glancing at Jim, he could read a similar unease and chilling realization in his partner's tense posture and narrowed blue eyes: more than one Pod should have been sent after them.
Called before the rebel Pan Gaia Alliance over a month ago, he, Jim and Kali, members of the Cascade cohort of Rangers, had been entrusted with an extremely dangerous and unprecedented mission: infiltrate the Asuran Forest stronghold, steal a sextet of comm-chips and return them to Base Camp, nearly sixty kilometers distant. Around the world, twenty-three fellow sentinel-guide pairs had received similar missions. If they succeeded, the comm-chips would be integrated into Pan Gaian communications network, allowing the rebels unfettered access to encrypted Asuran data-streams. Even a single sextet was priceless, enabling a rebel enclave to eavesdrop on and in limited cases, disrupt, regional Asuran communications.
Reflexively, Blair placed a hand on the pack tied to his harness holding the sextet. Jim couldn't bear their unshielded presence, the seething and heaving of space wrought by the phase-fluid nature of the chips. Kali avoided them as well. And though Blair could touch them, he was made nauseous by looking at the eerily fluid metallic flakes, flickering in and out of focus and normal space-time, writhing and yet somehow stationary in their pearlescent biologic medium. His other-senses shuddered away from close contact, outraged by the violation of natural Earth law they represented.
The wind shifted, sighing through the trees and Jim and Kali stiffened suddenly, each inhaling deeply, scenting. Seeking the missing Pods.
Although Blair's normal Human senses were extremely acute from three years as a Ranger in the field, he couldn't physically sense the Hunters as accurately as his companions. However, he could hear the jarring vibration of their emotional emanations, could feel the vile, slimy taint of Asuran mental corruption -- tainted leprous black and gray -- shiver across the surface of his mind. Alien to planet Earth, incompatible with her vibrant tapestry of energies -- plant, animal and mineral -- Asuran presence disrupted those natural patterns, snarling the lush weave with disharmony and confusion.
At the edge of his awareness, he tasted the mental stench of the Asurans and shuddered. Through persistence and effort, he'd expanded and honed his empathetic skills, perfected his control and his projection. However, only rarely could he determine more than direction and distance. His shamanic skills were rare and unlike those of sentinels, not well-studied.
Abruptly, Kali flattened her ears and bared her teeth. Jim gestured sharply, right hand flashing the sign for 'Pursuit'. Simultaneously, the stench intensified and sweat beaded his forehead; his stomach clenched and his eyes watered.
Time to leave. And fast.
Moving swiftly, Blair pressed the release lever on the piton imbedded in the branch, extracted it and let his tether respool silently and rapidly, into his harness. Question now: roof or floor? Jim pointed and Blair activated the spiked climbing-skins covering his palms and swarmed up the thick trunk towards the upper branches. Jim and Kali followed, scraping of climbing spikes and feline claws nearly soundless against bark.
Five, and then ten additional rough, splinter-filled meters higher up the trunk, the branches were thinner, but still more than strong enough to bear their combined weight. Late afternoon sun slanted across the russet and gold fall canopy, dappling leaves and branches still dripping from the earlier rain shower.
Blair paused for a moment to scout an aerial route southward and smiled as Jim slipped up beside him, smelling of sweat, rain water and fertile mud from their earlier headlong sprint along the nearby river bank.
"Wait." Jim breathed softly into his ear and Blair smiled involuntarily. Proximity and the raw silk of his partner's voice rippled through him, vibrating sensually along their internal empathetic bond; fear and Jim were powerful aphrodisiacs.
"Two more Pods. One of seven and one of six. Both arriving from the south-east. Distance, about three klicks."
Damn!
And Blair spared a moment to thank the gods for the sentinel senses upon which their lives depended. The Hunters advanced technology scrambled most human-designed surveillance systems. Many a non-Paired reconnaissance unit had been caught flat-footed, trapped by Pods who'd escaped electronic detection. Bloodshed or death by torture was the usual outcome.
Fortunately, their collective abilities could not be disrupted by Alien technology; one of the primary reasons that sentinel-guide pairs had been selected for this mission. Jim and Kali could see through Asuran visual cloaking devices, detect their scents, easily hear their stealthy movements. Blair's unusual skills, his ability to detect the Hunters and sometimes, harness the natural energies of earth and the elements around him for camouflage or defense, were an added bonus.
Sentinel and guide exchanged worried glances. One Pod to the north, two to the south. If the Hunters chose to circle, he, Jim and Kali could end up surrounded or herded into the path of a hidden Pod. If they chose to run, they could lead the Pods right back towards Base Camp. Any hope for a quiet, southerly retreat was now shot to hell.
"What now?" Blair asked quietly. "Have they detected us?"
Jim shook his head, grimacing as a fat raindrop fell from an overhead branch and splashed his nose.
"Doubtful," he replied softly, licking at mud-spattered lips. "Probably just a variation on their standard search pattern. Although--"
"--Where are the other Pods, right?" Blair finished his partner's obvious thought. "Is there another Hunter outpost west of here?"
"No way to tell." His partner shrugged eloquently, but his suspicions were clear.
Although they'd had four pursuit-free days, Blair had doubted that their luck could last. If the Hunters had managed to triangulate their position, possibly via infrared satellite telemetry, there was little left to do but fight their way though. And, of course, somehow cover the remaining thirty-six kilometers back to base camp before the biologic medium of the comm-chips failed. Six more days, eight at the outside, and the comm-chips would decay and their mission would be a failure. And quite likely, the three of them would be dead. Or wish they were.
"So. What now?" Blair asked, rhetorically. He knew damn well what next.
"Now..." His partner grinned ferally. Kali, now lurking on a branch above them, echoed his expression, tail lashing restlessly. Blair sighed, recognizing the body language all too well; so much for options. "...now, we hunt."
Resigned to the inevitable, Blair commenced a weapons' check. He armed the bolt-throwers strapped to his forearms, carefully checked the charges on his laser pistols, reseated the knives sheathed in his greaves and the unlatched the safety on the sonic knife belted at his waist. A quick check of the arsenal strapped to his harness revealed six remaining concussion grenades, the well-oiled cross-bow Jim had given him on his last birthday, and numerous other deadly bits of gear, including scent decoys, two confiscated and reengineered Asuran Earth-Rapers, incredibly destructive incendiary devices. With those exceptions, Jim was carrying most of their explosives.
"Ready?" Jim tightened the strap on his helmet and ran a final check of their personal, long range comm-system.
Blair grimaced and rebraided his pony tail, tying the end with a leather thong. "Ready as I ever am." For bloodshed and death, he concluded silently.
Jim clasped his shoulder briefly. "There's not much choice here, Blair." His partner was well aware of his distaste for taking life, the grief he felt with each death, despite the wanton disregard the Asurans had shown for Human life.
"I know," he agreed sadly. "But, Jim--" he grasped his companion's harness urgently. "No explosives. Except as a last resort. I'm serious." As much as he despised the screams of dying Hunters, dying men, even more, he hated the bitter, bewildered shrieks of defiled plant and animal life, tortured and slain by fire and shrapnel.
Well aware of his objections from previous heated discussions, Jim gently stroked his gloved knuckles along Blair's bristled jaw and agreed. "Fine. Only as a last resort." He leaned down to seal his promise with a brief kiss. "Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay." Blair nodded, somewhat appeased. "So what's the plan?"
"Divide and conquer." Jim smiled, teeth gleaming. "First, we make a quick trip north. Pick off the nearest Pod from behind. Then loop north-west, back towards the river. Follow the river south, on the west bank, through the swamps. Try to lose them at the rapids."
Six premeditated deaths for six comm-chips. Blair's stomach clenched and his outraged ethics rebelled at the expediency evident in the cold equation.
"So. Floor first, or roof?" he asked, tucking his hair beneath his helmet and tightening the strap.
"Roof," Jim stated, indicating that they would choose a path through the tree canopy, en route to their first set of targets. "They seem to be sticking to the ground for now. No ground-grubbing, 'til we have to."
"Thank the gods." Blair exhaled with relief, silently breathing a prayer to the elemental spirits infusing the Forest. He loved the airy freedom of the trees, their supportive majesty. And, though as a shaman, he was a true child of Earth, Blair had a heartfelt dislike of slithering through and sleeping in mud.
His partner smiled wryly at his relief.
"Standard sniper pattern?" he asked, referring to an attack pattern requiring radio silence.
"Yes." Jim leaned in for a final kiss and then straightened. Blair smiled as the warm echo of Jim's affection slipped along their Pair Bond, warming him within. "Let's go. We gotta move fast."
Activating his spiked climbing-skins, Jim took the lead, angling northward, across the circumference of the huge tree. His boots, with their retractable, spiked soles, were nearly soundless on the slippery bark. Kali followed silently and then Blair, who smiled to himself, enjoying the play of late afternoon sun across his lover's muscular sweat-slicked shoulders and thighs.
"Cold and slick or
Wet and fierce?
Sharp and dry or
Dull and thick?
Tang of iron or rasp of ash?
Breath of fire and kiss of ice."
-- Fear, kai
Twenty-three minutes of limb-swinging later, Blair halted, panting. His skin crawled, cold and clammy, with the awareness of the northern Pod. The Hunters were in range again, about ten kilometers from where he and Jim had left the last set of scent decoys. Surprisingly, this time, upon unfurling his internal awareness, he could feel the Hunting Pairs distinctly and could detect the elastic bond of affection, concern and attention that stretched between them. Uncomfortably similar to that which he shared with Jim, and to lesser extent, Kali.
A few meters above him, Jim stopped as well and signaled. At his direction, the three fanned out: Jim taking the westmost Pair, Kali the central, and Blair the eastern Pair.
Although the Asurans were both larger and physically stronger than Humans and possessing of superior technology, in the Forest, Humans and Hunters were nearly on equal footing. The hardy Human rebels who'd retreated to the Forest and the Rangers, like him and James, who patrolled it, were stealthy and well-versed in guerilla fighting tactics. In addition, they were native to the planet, and as such, the earth energies sheltered them somewhat. Thus, they were frequently able to avoid potentially disastrous head on confrontations with the Hunters. If they were careful.
An additional breathless ten minutes later, a slight clearing opened up below and daylight filtered through the trees, dappling the dull gray armor of his pair of targets. Two bolts held in his teeth, Blair side-stepped along the branch stealthily, circling around the searching Pair, thirty or forty meters distant and ten meters below. With the wind in his face, he was well out of their scent-range.
The branch upon which he stalked thinned out, vibrating with strain under his seeking feet. Reaching outward with ghostly, empathetic fingers, he channeled strength from the earth into the straining limb which steadied beneath him. Slowly drawing his cross-bow, steadying his breathing and muttering a prayer for the Alien lives he planned to take, Blair took careful aim and fired.
A near-silent whistle followed by a dull thud signaled the hit. The armor-piercing bolt slammed through his first target's breast plate and chest cavity, pinning him, still twitching, against a shaggy redwood.
The Hunter's partner whirled towards the sound, but Blair had already renocked and fired. The second bolt caught his target in the throat, just below the juncture of helmet and breast plate. Green blood sprayed from severed arteries and white bone gleamed. The Alien fell silently, clutching at his ruined neck, and then lay unmoving.
From his tenuous perch, Blair gritted his teeth against nausea and followed up with two carefully placed bursts from his laser pistol. Just to be certain. Against the Forest's soothing murmur, he listened for and heard the distant rustle of Asuran death, misplaced in this green, living place, as Kali and Jim took out their targets. And he felt a flicker of sorrow as the distant, discordant hum of Alien bonds dissolved from his awareness. Around him and within him, there was silence again, silence and the steady and welcome thrum of Jim and Kali's awareness at the back of his mind. No one else was near.
Sighting carefully, Blair fired a climbing spike from his harness to the bole of the next tree, ten meters away. Retracting his climbing spikes, leaping into space, he swung across the clearing to the Forest floor and the dead Hunters. Working quickly, he destroyed their comm equipment their transponders, gathered the weaponry he could use and released the radio-controlled piton from the overhead branch.
Glancing once at the dead Hunter, pinned to the tree like a huge bug, Blair reactivated his hand-spikes and scrambled up the redwood. He struck out northwest across the rough, shaggy branches, to the rendezvous point.
*
Exhausted and sweaty, he, Jim and Kali scrabbled along rapidly thinning branches towards the river. Half a kilometer from the eastern bank, the dense tree canopy yielded to saplings and patchy sky, and they were forced descend to the Forest floor. Several moments later, Jim signaled a halt and listened intently.
"They've discovered the bodies." His partner whispered tersely against his ear. "They're on the move again."
"How many?" Blair asked breathlessly, panting from exertion.
"One Pod of six."
Blair's eyes widened in dismay. With dusk approaching rapidly, they were at a grave disadvantage. Asuran eyesight was adapted to the long, cold nights of their home world, emphasizing the infrared, rather than the visible light spectrum. During the day, the ambient heat of flora, fauna and the Earth itself, would disguise them, confuse Asuran senses. Nightfall, however, was a grimly different story.
Though he and Jim were adept at controlling their body functions, slowing hearts, breathing, their metabolisms, they couldn't do so and fight or run. Unless they were adequately cloaked, their heat signatures would contrast starkly against the cooler vegetation making them easy targets. Even if they'd possessed portable cloaks, if they could have borne the extra kilos on this fast-paced trip, they would still risk detection by satellite. And they needed a meal, not spotty rations gulped haphazardly. And sleep. Breakfast was many klicks and several kills ago, and they'd been awake and on the move for over 12 hours.
To complicate matters, tree-travel in the dark was treacherous, for him at least. Kali and Jim had excellent night vision, but the special night goggles Blair used interfered with his depth-perception, making leap and limb weight-bearing calculations especially dangerous.
Corruption swept his mind and simultaneously, Kali and Jim stiffened beside him, scenting deeply.
They were being stalked.
"Split up?"
"Negative." Jim shook his head.
"What, then?" Blair asked, exasperated, impatient and frustrated. Their current position was far too exposed to defend easily and retreating to the trees and into the waiting arms of the oncoming Pod held little appeal.
"We run." His partner advised softly, hand rubbing Blair's shoulder absently soothing his irritation. "Head for the river, cross and run south along the western bank."
Blair groaned inwardly. They were too exhausted for this. However, a pitched battle, possibly hand-to-hand, with an alert Hunting Pod of two meter tall, one-hundred ten kilo Asurans, wasn't very appealing either.
"If we can get far enough ahead," his partner continued, "we can hide in the swamps 'til morning if necessary. Maybe catch some Z's."
Jim was right. If they could out distance the Pod, if they could cross the river north of the rapids, if they could slip into the swamp undetected, they could slather themselves with river mud and use the thermal shielding blankets carried in their packs. Lighter, more portable, than thermal cloaks, but not nearly as effective.
If, if and if.
Too damn many 'ifs' as far as he was concerned. Not to mention the mud. Kali bristled and growled and he grinned wryly. Through their tenuous link, he could tell she was nearly as pleased as he was with the notion of sleeping in the mud.
"Fine." Blair nodded reluctantly, his tired mind refusing to conjure any additional options. "We'll run." And light up the satellite infrared like beacons. Damn.
Blair took the lead, setting a rapid pace. The three of them ghosted along a narrow game trail towards the river, that lay glittering old gold and crimson through the trees in the dying light.
Chanting silently, legs and arms flexing rhythmically, inhaling, exhaling deeply, Blair entered the zone, calling forth an awareness of the Forest, seeking the discordant music of Alien life-forces.
The sensation of corruption intensified and the back of his neck prickled. Instinctively, he pivoted on the ball of his right foot, took an additional step with the left and spun off the trail to crouch in the underbrush.
Simultaneously, Jim's voice crackled in his headset and laser-rifle fire erupted behind him.
"Sandburg! Get down!"
Jim had already rolled into the sheltering trees. Along the length of his bond with Kali, Blair sensed her lurking in the shadows nearby, waiting. Listening intently, he heard stealthy footfalls approaching, barely audible against the distant thunder of the rapids further down-river.
From his concealed position, Blair traced the probable location of the Hunter from the trajectory of the torn and blackened turf. The sense of Alien presence was still strong, but the Forest was undisturbed: there was no cry of outraged, mangled vegetation or wildlife to mark their passage. For now, the Hunters were stationary. Diagonally across from him, up the trail a few meters, Jim, however, could obviously detect them.
"Four behind us, two Pair. Distance -- fifty meters. Four o'clock and six o'clock." Jim's tense words whispered into his left ear via the headset.
Four accounted for. So where the hell was the other Pair?
Another sudden burst of laser fire shredded the vegetation meters away from Blair, clearly originating from the northeast.
Creeping through ferns and moss, brushing aside weeds and twigs, he slid beneath a large rotted log that would provide some cover, physical and from the infrared sensors. Then, inhaling deeply, centering himself, he closed his eyes and 'reached' in the direction Jim had indicated and from which the gunfire originated.
The curious elastic sensation of affection and attention flowed between the two Pairs while a thinner strand, nearly imperceptible, spun into the distance, off to his left and south, closer to the river. Not for the first time he wished he could slip backwards along his link with Jim and borrow Jim's extraordinary senses to confirm his own suspicions. His skin crawled again as the object of that focus moved closer, into his range.
Shit! Not only were they were surrounded, but now, if he could believe his inner senses, it was likely that their escape route to the river was cut off.
"Jim," he breathed softly. "I think the other Pair is down by the river."
"I know, Blair. I hear 'em." The exhausted voice in his ear-piece sounded desperate. "We're cut off."
Blair's jaw clenched hard enough to make his teeth ache. They'd lost the element of surprise and the Asurans knew their position. No time for stealth or subtlety.
"Attack or retreat."
"Retreat," Jim replied tersely. "Towards the river. Lay down clusters of sonic mines as we go. Kali and I will take point for an attack on the river Pair."
"Affirmative. I'll plant the clusters." Blair swiftly, but quietly, removed several mines from his pack. "Dial-down your hearing and get Kali out of range."
Like their eyesight, Hunter hearing encompassed frequencies outside of normal human range. Sonic mines emitted extremely high frequencies that would deaden Asuran auditory nerve clusters and might, if they were lucky, cause unconsciousness or death as well. Concussion grenades had similar properties, but emitted crushing pressure waves as well, causing organ compression, but not excessive environmental damage.
Inwardly, Blair felt his connection with Jim snap taut with the sudden focussing of his partner's attention.
"Cover me."
At his partner's words, Blair drew his laser pistol and laid down covering fire as Jim burst from the trees, darted across the trail and ran past him ten meters away, southwest towards the river. Seconds later, Blair turned and followed Jim, paralleling his partner's path from the north. Breath rasped in his lungs and his heart hammered painfully as sounds of pursuit filtered through the trees and the stench of corruption intensified.
Every few minutes, he paused to plant a mine and a scent amplifier along the trail he'd chosen. The Hunters had anti-mine technology, but he could only hope that, in their haste to catch him, a few of his traps would slip through their technological cracks.
"Mines activated," he warned Jim.
Up ahead, a growl, a shout and laser-fire signaled Jim and Kali's contact with the westmost Pair. Behind him, sharp, high-pitched staccato whistles sounded as several of the sonic mines were activated.
Still, he felt the Alien pressure in his mind. And off to his left, he saw flickering movement and the rapid displacement of vegetation as a cloaked Alien slipped through the forest. Seconds later, he was frantically dodging the laser-fire that ripped through the foliage from the direction of the disturbance. Huge wood splinters and torn vegetation peppered him with bruising force as he darted through the trees.
Gasping for breath, feet pounding, dodging bolts and fallen tree limbs, he twisted a concussion grenade from his harness, pressed the activator and threw it as hard has he could in the Hunter's direction. Then he dove for the ground, rolling between the trunks of two huge trees for cover.
Moments later, the far edge of the shock wave slammed against him showering him with leaves, sticks and other debris. The pungent scent of seared greenery assailed his nostrils. When he looked up, the distortion had disappeared and the vile taste of Alien presence had eased, hopefully for good. Calling upon Earth energies to bolster his own flagging strength, Blair leaped to his feet and sprinted towards Jim's position, this time without the cacophonous accompaniment of laser blasts.
Nearing the river, he could just barely hear the sounds of battle over the thunder of the rapids. Through a break in the trees, he could see the slick shift and heave of the rain-swollen river less than fifteen-hundred meters from the start of the rapids.
Too close! They were too close to swim across the river safely now. Last night's storm had swollen the river; they'd be swept downstream and dashed to pieces on the rocks. To cross, they'd have to use tethers and gloves, squandering precious moments of their escape window.
Upon arriving at the river's edge, Blair's heart lurched. Jim struggled, hand-to-hand with a Hunter while Kali relentlessly gnawed at the supple armor encasing the Hunter's left thigh.
"Dammit, Jim! Give me an opening!" he shouted, knowing Jim's hearing was likely still dialed down in consideration for the sonic mines.
Drawing his pistol, Blair stood panting on the bank, anxiously awaiting an opening. When it came, when Jim managed to wrestle free of the Asuran, livid bruises and scrapes on his torso, Blair fired twice. Though obviously exhausted, his partner managed to roll aside as the Hunter toppled into the river and was carried swiftly downstream by the current.
"Jim!" Blair retrieved his partner's pack near the treeline and raced over to help him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
Chest heaving, Jim leaned on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Beside him, Kali retched the vile taste of Asuran blood out of her mouth.
"I'm fine," Jim gasped, rubbing at bruised ribs.
"Where's the second one?"
"Kali tore out his throat." Jim gestured back toward the trees. "Never mind that. We've got to cross now!"
"I just knew you were going to say that." Blair smiled wryly.
Jim started to laugh and winced instead, holding his ribs. "No other choice. We can't get caught on this side of the river. I can't tell if you got the other Pair behind us."
"You're the boss, boss." Blair joked, trying to lift his lover's spirits. Despite the fear, the exhaustion, the bruises and the killing, affection and love hummed between them, clear and warm. "I think it's safe for you to dial back up now. Listen for pursuit."
Blair detached the crossbow from his pack, nocked a tether bolt and attached the nylon leash from Jim's harness. Releasing the catch, he aimed carefully and let fly into a solid-looking tree across the river. The bolt spun out over the water, the nylon tether unspooling rapidly over his partner's shoulder.
Jim looked at him with fond exasperation, pulling thick protective gloves over his climbing-skins. "You always have to have the last word, don't you, Sandburg?"
Blair chuckled, clipping a tether from Kali's harness to Jim's. "Get going, Ellison. Take Kali with you."
While his companions clambered down the bank and into the river, Blair fired another bolt into a tree a bit further downstream from Jim's. He then activated the spooling motor on his harness, drew on his gloves and started his own journey across the rain-swollen river. Fortunately, the comm-chips were in a waterproof pouch in his pack.
The river was shockingly cold, and debris -- floating logs, dead animals and other deadly projectiles -- washed downstream at a furious rate. Fortunately, the river narrowed a bit just before the rapids and so crossing only took about ten minutes. Jim and Kali were already scrambling up the opposite bank when, nervously looking over his shoulder for the hundredth time, Blair saw a Pair burst from the Forest.
The motor on his harness whined in protest as Blair was slammed by a huge branch fifteen meters from shore and swept under. He surfaced moments later, gasping for breath. Though painful, it was a fortuitous accident. He was swung sideways by the momentum of the branch, narrowly missing death by Asuran laser rifle bolts, which tore off chunks from the branch, then hissed and seethed, churning the water beside him.
Above his head, Jim returned fire, giving him needed minutes to reach shore. Battered and bruised, Blair heaved himself up on the bank. Jim's strong grip on his arm pulled him out of firing range and they melted into the young trees at river's edge.
Fortunately, pursuit was likely to be delayed since Asurans hated water. Especially moving water.
Odd then that they'd chosen to conquer such a watery planet.
*
A half-hour later, Blair was nearing his physical limits and dusk was upon them.
"Rest soon?" he asked hopefully, fatigue blurring his vision. The ache of his empty belly, his exhausted muscles, not to mention his bruised shoulder, each cried out for relief. Beside him, Kali panted heavily.
"Soon," Jim replied. "I want put more distance between us and that other Pod."
They continued in silence for another forty minutes, each step a separate searing agony, until finally Jim signaled a halt. Gratefully, Blair and Kali sank to the ground beneath a huge redwood. Jim sat beside him on the soft bed of pine needles, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Pursuit?" Blair asked quietly, leaning into his partner's side and rubbing a stubbled cheek against the damp leather of the harness along Jim's collar bone.
"I don't hear anything, Blair," Jim said worriedly. "And it's almost nightfall."
"I know," Blair nodded.
The shadows had lengthened around them and he could taste night's approach in the cooling of the earth and the first stirring of its nocturnal brethren.
"What do you want to do?" Blair asked, taking the opportunity to briefly close his eyes and nestle more closely to his partner. His lover's skin was deliciously slick with sweat and his scent was arousingly strong. Beneath his left hand, Kali's fur was sleek and warm.
"How much you got left?"
Blair shifted deeper into his partner's embrace and sighed. "I'm good for another hour."
"Fine, then." He could hear the worry in Jim's voice as his partner's chin brushed against the top of his head. "We'll run for another hour and then set camp along the edge of the swamp."
"Mud." Blair exhaled heavily and Jim laughed, breaking the somber mood.
"C'mon, Sandburg, cheer up! At least the bugs won't getcha this way."
"Great, just great," Blair muttered, rising up on his toes and stretching tired, sore muscles. "Mud but no bugs. What a trade-off."
One hour and six kilometers later, there was still no sign of pursuit. After making camp, Jim and Blair shared a meal of cold rations. Kali found plenty of small game in the muddy rushes at the edge of the swamp.
Then, slathered in foul, stinking mud and huddled beneath their thermal shields, they slept round-about in three hour shifts. By morning, it was clear that they'd somehow left their pursuers behind.
"Love's fire heats water, water cools not love."
--Sonnet CLIV, William Shakespeare
Through the gaps in the trees three hundred meters to the east, Blair could see the river's jeweled glitter in the approaching sunset. The weather had remained dry overnight and as a result, they'd covered nearly twenty kilometers, generally following the river's course south west. Another day and they might be to Base Camp's outer perimeter wards. Almost home.
"How the hell did we lose them?" Blair wondered aloud yet again. With another day of running behind them, there was still no sign of pursuit; a fact that worried him. Although it was possible that their detour through the swamps had masked their scent from Alien ground forces, Blair found it difficult to believe that they'd managed to escape detection via satellite.
"You're the scientist, Einstein. You tell me." From an adjacent branch, his partner shrugged. Clearly for his partner, the brief respite from fighting and running was welcome, regardless of the reason.
"Scientist?" Blair scoffed with self-directed annoyance. "Yeah right.
In my dreams." On cue, the old anger rose, rage against the Asurans' near
destruction of Human civilization: lives, careers, hopes rewritten or destroyed,
their cultural heritage stolen, leaving the survivors to scratch for bare
existence in the ashes. Bitter visions of that once-upon-a-time haunted
him: cities pulsing with life and culture, rather than fear and desolation;
universities, repositories of knowledge venues, for intellectual interchange,
instead of
shattered, abandoned husks.
"Don't sell yourself short, Sandburg." Jim said seriously, as he gracefully skinned along the branch. "It doesn't take a university to make a scholar."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, man," Blair said wryly, pausing to adjust the balance of his pack. "But cramming a few beetle-gnawed books will only get you so far."
"Sandburg, you're the smartest man I know," Jim said. "You're too damn hard on yourself--"
His partner's further comment was lost as Blair leapt into space, climbing spikes extended. He landed neatly on a fat branch of the neighboring tree, wincing at the pull in his bruised shoulder.
A few seconds later, the branch shook as Jim joined him, grinning.
"As I was saying before you so rudely departed, you're too damn hard on yourself." Jim reached under Blair's helmet and tweaked his pony tail playfully. A devilish, rather suggestive smile shaped his partner's sculpted lips. "That's my job."
Blair lifted an eyebrow and calmly regarded his partner, well aware of the double entendre. The late afternoon sun gilded the planes of Jim's chiseled features, limned the panther-sleek muscles of chest, shoulders and thighs. Sweat sheened his skin, further darkening the leather harness and his short leather trousers. Dying sunlight skittered over the attached weaponry and tools. All together, a deliciously primal sight.
"See something you like, Sandburg?" Jim purred, sounding amused. His partner's bright blue eyes glittered.
Blair shrugged. "After six weeks without, just about anything looks good." He nonchalantly resumed his climb, gifting Jim with a lengthy view of his backside.
Their bond flared brilliant crimson with lust.
"Is that so?" Jim's reply was husky.
Mouth dry, leather trousers suddenly tight, Blair glanced back at his companion. Jim's eyes had darkened and he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, undoubtedly scenting Blair's arousal.
"Yeah. That's so," Blair replied mildly. Six weeks of plotting, running, hiding; of fear, uncertainty and exhaustion; of blood, shit, sweat and death. His libido raged at their enforced, meager rations of all-too-brief touches and stolen kisses.
A few branches away, Kali paused mid-crouch, hackles raised, displaying gleaming white teeth, grinning. She clearly sensed the electricity arcing between Blair and Jim and bounded to another branch, wisely distancing herself from the oncoming storm.
"So." Jim's passion-roughened voice thrilled along his nerves. Blair found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. "You're saying that, after six weeks, any cock will do?"
Blair risked another glance behind him. His partner was poised upon the curving tree limb, alert, perfectly still, an embodiment of the grace and intensity of a stalking predator.
Sliding nimbly along the branch, Blair deliberately wiggled his ass.
"Ma-aybe."
Breathing deeply, harness creaking seductively with each inhalation, Blair paused in his climb and waited, carefully watching Jim's eyes. Leaf patterned shadows shifted playfully over the rough bark of the limb beneath him. The evening sounds and scents of the Forest rose around them, washing against his skin, briefly soothing the sore, ragged edges of his spirit, further inflaming his desire.
One breath.
--Bird pinned by a serpent's stare--
Then two.
--Mouse caught between a cat's paws--
Jim's eyes darkened and adrenaline surged at his partner's involuntary warning. Blair whirled, frantically scrambled for leverage and leapt -- body fully extended, spine crackling with strain -- for the next branch, four meters away.
Colorful autumn leaves fell like rain and the branch swayed alarmingly as Jim landed behind him.
"You can run, Sandburg," Jim's breath rasped, shockingly close. "But you can't hide!"
Breathless with laughter and exertion, Blair spared no time for comment. Trees, branches and leaves flashed by in a colorful, crazed montage as he raced through the tree tops, with Jim a bare heartbeat behind him.
Climb.
Up. Out. Hand over hand, sweat stinging eyes.
Release piton.
Respool, eyes narrowed, calculate, gauge.
Twist. Avoid partner's grasping hand.
Fire piton, absorb hammer of recoil.
Leap.
Swing through space, stomach tight, sensual thrill, sweat drying on face.
Splinters flew as Jim's piton struck the tree trunk beside his. Capture was inevitable, imminent, but he didn't have to make it easy. His sentinel was far too smug, too aware of his charms, for Blair to simply roll over and show his belly.
"Gettin' old, Ellison." Blair panted, darting around the bole of the tree, barely evading Jim's determined grab. "Can't keep up with the youngsters."
"Still young enough to stake you to the tree and make you squeal, Sandburg."
The rich, dark promise in Jim's voice weakened Blair's knees and he hesitated a moment too long before releasing the piton. In the blink of an eye, his partner -- never one to squander an advantage -- bodily pinned him against the tree, one muscular thigh between Blair's legs, rocking delightfully against his rigid cock. Regardless, he stubbornly refused to do something as undignified as squeal.
"C'mon, Sandburg," Jim growled dangerously, strong teeth worrying Blair's earlobe, breath hot against his throat. "Squeal. You know you want to."
"Fuck you, Ellison." Blair privately admitted that his protest sounded rather weak. He winced as Jim ruthlessly ground his hips against Blair's, pressing the pack painfully between the tree trunk and his shoulder blades.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll get to that," Jim agreed amiably. "But first, we'll get to what I want." The snick as his partner's spikes retracted seemed loud against the backdrop of the Forest's evening song.
Climbing spikes still extended, Blair clung desperately to the tree trunk for balance, as his lover gripped his face in both hands and took possession of his mouth.
Jim briefly nibbled his lower lip and then the questing tongue dove deep, slicking against his teeth, over his palate, coiling against his own tongue, and in an instant, all the love, fear and desperation of the past six weeks erupted in a searing conflagration of wanton, naked lust.
Blair closed his eyes and surrendered to Jim's passion and need. And his own. The vibrant crimson of their Pair-Bond roiled in the back of his mind, the pit of his belly, seething with indigo, violet and green hues, pulsing synchronously with the throbbing in his cock and the hammer of his heart beat.
"Christ, Blair." Jim groaned against his throat, lapping sweat-salt from his pulse-point to his collarbone. "You taste, you smell, you feel so fucking incredible."
A strong hand replaced the knee between his legs and cupped his aching balls (so heavy) stroked the ridge of his erection (so fucking hard) and teased him closer to the jagged edge of orgasm.
"Dammit, Ellison," he gasped. "I don't wanna come in my fucking pants."
"Too bad." Jim's other hand left his face and swept down his sweaty chest, tangling briefly in hair to mercilessly tweak one taut nipple.
Caught between two devilish, wickedly talented hands -- the bright sharp pain radiating from his chest to his cock, the relentless, driving rhythm between his legs -- his partner's tongue thrusting rhythmically between his lips, Blair moaned uncontrollably. Heat spiraled up his tail bone and fresh sweat beaded his forehead, dripped into the corners of his open mouth.
"You bastard," he mumbled around Jim's tongue. Then came with a shout, weak-kneed, slicking his trousers. And more than a bit thankful that he was tethered to the tree. The ground was too far away to comfortably withstand a passion-induced dive.
When he reopened his eyes, Jim had tethered his pack to an upper branch and was regarding him with open lust and no little amusement.
"We're not done yet, Jungle Boy. Take off that pack and get over here."
"Chill Alpha Boy." Blair chuckled darkly at his lover's imperious tone and removed his pack. He grimaced, plucking at the now-sticky leather of his trousers.
"Don't fuck with me, Sandburg," his lover growled. "I'm hot, horny and I want your mouth on my cock." Jim unbuttoned his trousers revealing his thick, swollen erection. His foreskin had slipped back, exposing the purpled head, slick with pre-ejaculate. "Now, take off your helmet, untie your hair and get your ass over here!"
"Yes, oh my master," Blair snickered sarcastically, slo-owly making haste across the intervening three meters between the main tree trunk and the thick, nearly vertical secondary branch upon which Jim leaned.
Given the passionate darkness in his lover's voice and his undeniably rampant state, Blair was unsurprised to find himself abruptly crouched at Jim's feet in the Y-shaped crotch made by the two main branches, spikes desperately gripping the bark beneath him, mouth stretched, filled with his lover's cock.
"Now *that's* better." Jim groaned, fisting his hands in Blair's hair, thrusting deeply. "I knew you could find a better use for that mouth than making snide comments."
Had his mouth not been fully occupied, Blair might have added a few choice sarcastic comments. But, nose buried in Jim's hot, moist and fragrant bush, licking, sucking along his lover's salty-sweet cock, his own rebellious prick stirring to life in the sticky leather of his trousers, still languid in the aftermath of his own orgasm, he could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a utter one.
His partner's passionate, escalating groans formed a fascinating counter point to the rhythmic thumping of Jim's helmet against the branch, the silken whisper of his long, unbound hair against Jim's thighs and the rush of heat and light through his internal awareness of their Pair-Bond.
A final savage thrust and his mouth was filled with his lover's hot slippery essence. Ruthlessly, he milked Jim's softening cock, chuckling inwardly at his partner's shudders, sighs and finally pleas to "Stop goddammit! That's enough!"
Shifting back on his heels, releasing his disheveled lover, he smiled wickedly up at Jim through wildly tousled hair, wiping the back of a hand across bruised lips.
"You know something, James?"
Jim leaned bonelessly against the secondary branch, eyes closed, chest heaving. "No, what Blair?"
One eyebrow raised, Blair rose languidly to his full height, sheathing his climbing spikes. Snick.
"Payback's a bitch."
Bright blue eyes flashed open. Elegantly muscled, sex-drugged limbs struggled to respond. A protest clearly formed on kiss swollen lips.
But Blair was considerably faster.
"Save it for someone who gives a shit, James," Blair muttered darkly. Quickly and fluidly, he gripped Jim's wrist, retracted the piton and refired at the main trunk of the tree several inches below his own eye level.
"Fuck!" Jim struggled briefly, but Blair was strong and more than a bit determined to exact payment.
"Why, as a matter of fact," Blair continued conversationally, "don't mind if I do." It was a simple matter to fire the piton from Jim's other wrist to the secondary branch, leaving his partner splayed, half crouched between the two limbs.
"Sandburg! You bastard!"
"Bingo! Right again, Alpha Boy!" Blair crowed facetiously, unceremoniously yanking Jim's short leather trousers down his thighs and unbuttoning his own fly. "You win the prize! One rough ride, courtesy of Blair Jacob Sandburg!"
"Goddammit, Blair, if you take me raw, they'll never find your body!"
Balancing carefully, one hand gripping Jim's harness tightly, Blair snagged the gun oil from his pack. "Now, would I be that impolite?"
With one hand, he gently pushed Jim forward. His partner rocked out into space, fifteen meters above ground, foot spikes clinging to bark, muscular arms and shoulders spread wide and quivering, ass cheeks clenched tight.
Undeterred, Blair gripped Jim's hip with one hand and licked a path down Jim's spine to the erogenous zone at its base. There, he lapped repeatedly, enjoying the sharp spike of arousal engendered by Jim's involuntary moans and shudders. Sliding the other slicked hand over Jim's cock and balls, he teased a path up the furred perineum and into his lover's cleft.
"Open up, James!" He sang humorously. "Time to beta for a while!"
"Christ, Sandburg!" Jim snapped, writhing on his fingers. "Shut up and fuck me already!"
"Always happy to oblige a friend!" Blair chuckled, leaned against his lover's broad, sweaty back, grabbed his hips and thrust.
Sinking deeply into tight, slick heat, Blair moaned, rubbed his face between Jim's shoulder blades and abandoned himself to a sensory feast.
--Overwhelming, drugging scent of sex, sweat, leather, evergreen and pine--
--Rasp of evening beard and climbing skins across Jim's fine-grained skin on back, shoulder, belly and quivering thigh--
--Salt taste of sweat spreading upon his tongue--
--Aural caress of night bird calls, distant wolf song, slither of awakening night creatures in the underbrush, his lover's lush, unfettered cries of pleasure--
And, beneath it all, beneath the lust and passion, the good-natured rivalry and teasing, the unwavering, bright crimson flame of their love vibrated, oscillated along their Pair-Bond, making Blair's body sing with its purity, magnitude and depth.
Subtly, Blair varied the frequency and depth of his thrusts, alternately grazing or slamming the sweet spot deep inside his lover's body. Curving a smile along Jim's shoulder blade, he stroked his lover's cock arhythmically, reveling in his jagged cries.
"Come for me, James," he whispered. "Fill my hand."
"Christ, Sandburg!" His lover panted. "I'm trying."
"Not as young as ya used to be, eh Ellison?" Blair taunted. "C'mon! Try harder!"
Blair smiled then bit down hard on Jim's shoulder, drawing blood. Jim could always be enticed to orgasm with the sharp contrast of pain and pleasure. His lover gasped and then his hand was filled with hot, slick fluid. Two thrusts later, scintillating energy rose up implacably from the soles of his feet, coiled around his cock, rippled through his belly, spiraled along their Pair-Bond. And light burst behind his eyes as he surrendered to the sensual lightening, spilling love and passion into his lover's shuddering body.
"Sandburg. Will you get off?" Jim demanded, moments later. "My back is killing me!"
Blair chuckled, gently pulled out of his partner and shifted to lean against the main trunk, wiping himself clean with a rag pulled from his pack. "Better?"
"Ye-es." Jim's voice was strained. "Now pull up my goddamn pants so I can release these pitons."
"Pushy bottom." Laughing, Blair yanked his partner's pants up and rebuttoned them.
"Thank god." Jim exhaled loudly, releasing the pitons and shifting to lean on the opposite branch, rotating his shoulders and massaging his quivering thighs. "And quit laughing, Sandburg." His lover glared darkly rubbing his lower back. "My shoulders hurt. My legs hurt. My ass hurts. Jeez!"
"Wuss." Blair chuckled, leaning over the branch to take a piss.
"Watch it, Sandburg."
"I am 'watching' it, Ellison," Blair retorted, living dangerously. "And what I see is looking pretty damn sad." Reckless, though not stupid, Blair carefully gauged the distances between Jim, his back pack and the ground, factoring in the degree of soreness in his own shoulders and thighs.
Following his gaze, Jim narrowed his eyes and grinned ferally. "Go ahead, Sandburg. Make my day."
Blair counted to ten. Then to twenty. At the count of twenty-three, he sprang, reactions slowed by sex and fatigue. He made it from the branch to the ground before Jim caught him, eight meters from the base of the tree. Whereupon he became intimately acquainted with the dry, musty taste of fallen autumn foliage and a sweet ache in his ass.
*
Blair was awakened at dawn by something wet, pungent and shockingly hot splashing against his bare back. A split second later, now wide-awake and completely astonished, he flipped over and glared up at his mate.
"You bastard! I can't believe you did that!"
Above him, Jim grinned wickedly and shook the end of his dick. A few remaining droplets flicked across Blair's cheeks and into his mouth. Blair licked his lips free of the hot, salty liquid.
"Like you said before, Sandburg. Payback's a bitch."
"You pissed on me!"
"Just staking my claim." Jim snickered. "Marking my territory. You know, that alpha male shit you're always going on about."
Blair stared at his mate, feigning shock.
"What?! I give you a few hickeys and you piss on me?"
"A few hickeys my ass!" Jim pointed to his thoroughly marked collar bone, courtesy of another round of love making the previous evening. "And let's not forget about the bite!"
Blair gulped as his partner's eyes narrowed.
"Bite?!" He protested weakly, remembering all too well the intoxicating, copper-tang of Jim's blood on his lips. "It was just a little nibble!"
"Nibble? Just a nibble?" Jim growled. Standing thus, Blair was strongly reminded of Kali, sleek and deadly, poised on a branch above an unsuspecting fawn. He shivered.
"It got you off, didn't it?" Blair protested again, plaintively, crab-walking backwards, watching his lover warily. "Well, didn't it?"
His lover's eyes narrowed abruptly and Blair quickly rolled to his feet and took off towards the river at a dead run.
Jim followed.
The pursuit ended in a solid, meaty thunk as seventy-two kilos of annoyed sentinel struck his shoulder, a muscular arm grabbed him round the waist and carried them both over the river bank to land with a splash.
Shivering, Blair had barely cleared the surface, barely drawn a laughing, gasping breath, when his lips were seized and his mouth was, once again, thoroughly filled by Jim's mobile tongue.
After an hour playing in the water and making love beneath the trees along the bank, they packed up their gear and moved out, following the river in a roughly southwesterly direction along the Forest floor. Kali padded silently beside them.
Less than fifty minutes later, the Forest erupted in laser fire and their brief, loving respite became a desperate, terrified sprint through the trees.
"It is like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone."
-- from "The Hollow Men", Thomas Stearns Eliot
Breath rasped harshly in his throat as he clambered over fallen branches and darted for cover from tree to tree.
Three pissed off Hunters. Half a friggin' Pod. Damn!
"How far back are they?" Blair gasped into his headset, slipping on some damp leaves but righting himself quickly. Kali and Jim's dark shapes flickered in and out of the shadows through the trees not far ahead of him. Above, dark clouds gathered, heralding rain.
"About two, maybe three hundred meters." Jim's strained voice crackled over the headset. "We need to split up!"
At his partner's suggestion, they separated, placing a buffer of twenty-five or so meters between them. Kali swung wide to the south and looped behind him, taking rear-guard.
"Lay down a few of my decoys. I'll go high, you draw them out," Jim called, starting up a tall redwood. The narrow trail they followed was the perfect for a staged ambush.
"So where the fuck are the rest of them?" Blair muttered irritably, drawing his laser pistol and dropping several of Jim's scent decoys as he ran.
He and Jim had worried over that question earlier after the attack by the three pursuing Hunters. But neither of them had been able to locate the expected others as they ran. The thunder of their own heart beats and the scent of their fear had obscured evidence of the Hunters. Blair was frustrated, certain they were being herded towards certain doom. But, could he, Jim and Kali could spring their trap first?
An intense wave of Alien dissonance washed through his mind. Roughly thirty-five meters ahead, the earth shifted and surged as three large, cloaked shapes rose from concealment in leaf-covered pits arranged in a loose semi-circle, roughly thirty-five meters ahead.
Icy fear and despair were fists clenched in his guts.
Three ahead, three behind; destruction, disaster and death were inevitable.
Blair fired once, pivoted and dove for cover as laser fire from Jim and the Asurans ripped through the trees, startling birds and other wildlife into flight. Momentum rolled him into a tree, painfully jarring his already bruised shoulder.
Across their Pair-Bond, strengthened by their recent intimacy, Blair clearly sensed his partner's focus, worry, and fear -- a wide streak of acidic green against the mellow red and gold back drop of their love. Worry and fear that it was too late.
Too late to lay mines for the oncoming Hunters. Too late for stealth, for finesse. Perhaps even too late for them to complete their mission alive.
Huddled behind the tree, Blair shivered as fat, heavy raindrops began to fall, pattering musically on leaves, mixing with the sweat on his skin. He, Jim and Kali had just barely enough of a strategic advantage to take out one or two the Hunters themselves. But then, Jim would be all but pinned down in that goddamn tree! He and Kali, at least, were mobile.
Carefully angling his tiny field mirror around the trunk of the tree, he watched the foliage surge and shift as two of the cloaked Hunters crawled from the pits and started towards him.
Decisively, Blair rolled from cover, paused to blindly release a burst of laser fire in the direction of the Aliens and then fluidly continued his roll. One Asuran went down, his shield destroyed, bright sparks dancing along his armor. The other returned fire before Blair could fully roll behind the next tree and searing pain rippled along his sore left shoulder and biceps. The wound wasn't bad, just painful.
"I'm hit!" Eyes watering from pain and the sickeningly appetizing stench of burning flesh -- his burning flesh -- Blair crouched, panting, briefly cradling his left arm. The characteristic shriek of tortured air sang as Jim and the Asurans exchanged laser fire. "Jim! Gimmie a word, man!"
"Lucky shot, Sandburg. You got 'im. One down and out, two to go." Jim replied. Over the static in the head set, he heard grunts and the rustle of leaves and high-pitched whines as Jim skinned recklessly through the upper branches of the massive oak tree, desperately dodging laser fire. "Now get your ass out here! I'm pinned down!"
Again, the black and gray Alien corruption seared his senses as he broke cover to fire upon the remaining Asurans and protect his treed partner. The forest scene rippled sickeningly as one Hunter decloaked, directly ahead, laser rifle trained on his fleeing partner.
"Jim!" Blair's warning scream strangled in his throat as a huge, armor-clad arm encircled his neck from behind. One had slipped through his guard.
Damn!
Fifteen meters away, an Asuran laser-cannon bolt slammed into his partner's exposed shoulder, hurling him backwards, over the limb of the tree, to dangle limply from his harness.
Enraged, vision graying from lack of oxygen, Blair stabbed backwards with his sonic blade. The tortured scream of parting armor rasped in his ears and the stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. But the arm tightened and his feet left the ground, tendons and ligaments in his neck shrieking painfully. God dammit! Grasping his captor's arm with one hand, consciousness fading rapidly, he blindly aimed his right arm backwards and pressed the palm-trigger.
The piton, fired point-blank, serendipitously ripped through the eye-hole of the Hunter's helmet and into the skull, drenching Blair's neck and torso with slimy green blood, bone chips and brain fragments. He slammed into the mud backwards, atop the slain Asuran, struggling to pull the heavy arm from his throat.
Finally rolling free and disconnecting the piton tether, he lay exhausted in the mud and dead leaves, gasping, trying to recover his breath and wiping blood from his face.
// Get up, Sandburg! Kill the bastard! // But his throat and lungs burned and his limbs were uncooperative.
Miraculously, a black shape flashed past. And he listened with dark satisfaction to the frantic rustle in the bushes, a burst of laser-fire, followed by the hoarse, dying screams of Jim's shooter as Kali, yowling in pain and outrage, tore out his throat.
Moments later, there was silence. And the murmur of now steadily falling rain.
Staggering to his feet, Blair limped through the undergrowth and scrambled up the oak from which his partner slowly swung. Cursing, he fired his own piton into the branch and rappelled down, wrapping arms and legs around his unconscious mate. He would much rather treat Jim in the tree than leave him exposed on the ground, but he wasn't strong enough to haul Jim's dead weight back up. And, there was no way of knowing how close the other Hunters had gotten in the uncountable minutes since the fire-fight began. Gasping from the pain in his throat and neck, the soreness in his arm, he cut Jim's line and then carefully lowered them both to the ground. Below, Kali, fur bloodied and torn, paced restlessly.
Jim roused and moaned weakly as Blair gently examined his shoulder wound. It was predictably bad; torn skin, burned and blackened at the edges, surrounded by livid bruising.
"Shit, Jim," Blair murmured, stroking his partner's gray, sweaty face. Beside them, Kali whimpered softly and licked at Jim's shoulder.
"Sandburg." Feverish blue eyes opened and Jim's fist closed upon Blair's harness, drawing him closer. "You know what needs to be done."
"Don't say it, Ellison," Blair growled, opening his pack to prepare a field dressing.
Head pillowed upon Blair's thigh, lips thin and tight against pain, Jim continued implacably. "You can't carry me, the rest of the Pod is behind us, and you must complete this mission."
"Fuck you, Ellison!" Blair whispered fiercely, carefully disinfecting the wound and preparing an organic skin bandage. "I'm not gonna leave you here."
"You swore an oath, Sandburg." His partner shifted restlessly, clearly in great pain. "Greater good. Remember?"
"Greater good, my ass," Blair muttered darkly, injecting his partner with a painkiller and an antibiotic, then applying the bandage. "You're delirious, Ellison." Or going into shock. Blair bit his lip observing his partner's dilated pupils and weak, thready pulse.
"Blair." Jim gripped his wrist fiercely. "You know I'm right."
No.
No, he would not leave Jim here. Blair reflexively shook his head in denial. Surely the wetness itching his scruffy cheeks was merely sweat?
"You will, Sandburg," Jim confirmed softly but firmly, eye lids drooping, body becoming limp in his arms. "You must." Between them, the Pair-Bond pulsed bleakly, its vibrant fabric patchy and torn as Jim struggled to maintain consciousness.
"No." Blair said implacably. "Get up, Ellison." Gritting his teeth, he painfully hauled his partner to his feet. "Dammit! GET UP! I won't leave you here to be taken." Tortured or killed, his rebellious mind supplied.
Sweating heavily, Jim shivered and staggered heavily a few meters before collapsing, dragging Blair down into the leaves and mud with him. Agony, white hot and blinding flared: his, Jim's and Kali's, leaving Blair angry, desperate and desolate.
"Blair. Please." His partner -- his lover's voice was barely a whisper. "Take Kali and the crystals and go."
Nauseatingly vivid images of torture before death flickered through his mind; across their bond and he tasted the bitter spice of Jim's fear and grim resolve before his partner shuttered the link.
"Oh gods, no!" Blair nearly shouted, aborting his partner's move for his laser pistol.
"It's the only way, Blair," Jim said weakly. "I can't run. I can't be taken."
"No, goddammit! There is another way." Tears blurred his eyes as Blair furiously shook his head. Every guide dreaded this moment, blindly hoped it would never come to pass. That he or she would never have to face, to survive a world, Bond incomplete, bleeding and raw, without his partner. "We just have to find it."
"No time, Blair," Jim whispered. "They're almost here." And indeed, he felt the leading edge of Alien presence stir in his mind, heard the crunch and slither of leaves as the Hunters closed in. Kali growled, clearly torn between the desire to stay and her awareness of the approaching Asurans.
"Jim." Blair carefully propped his injured partner up against the tree. Kneeling beside him in the dirt, he finally surrendered to the inevitable, gently kissing Jim's slack lips, tasting blood and tears. "Please promise me you'll wait as long as you can?"
"Jim?" Blair gasped as his partner's head lolled to the side. "Oh shit! James!"
Kali growled more urgently, jaws gripping his wrist. Fearsome images of death flashed from her mind to his. Her message was clear: the Hunters were coming.
Mind numb, Blair stared at Jim's laser pistol. Tears blurring his vision, hands shaking, he placed the muzzle against Jim's breast bone. Through it, he felt the faint vibration of his lover's heart.
"Oh gods." His voice shook. "Forgive me."
He heard the approach of death. Felt its taint in his mind as the Asurans drew closer, almost upon them. Felt its weight, warm with the heat of Jim's body, in his hand.
Tears spilled down his cheeks as he shook his head.
No.
The sky darkened and thunder rolled menacingly through the Forest. His skin hummed with its vibration.
"Forgive me, James," he whispered softly, lowering the pistol and folding Jim's lax fingers around it.
Swiftly, he removed the explosives, incriminating devices and personal effects from Jim's pack. In so doing, his fingers fell upon a smooth, squared surface: a book. Very rare, and clearly stolen by Jim from the Asuran installation. Few books had survived Asuran occupation. Most likely, intended as a gift for him. He thumbed the flaking gold letters on the age-darkened cover, 'The Sentinels of Paraguay'.
His breath caught. "Oh, Jim." He stroked his lover's cheek briefly.
Then, a final tear- and rain-slick kiss and he reluctantly fled westward, Kali at his side.
"Wait for me..."
"Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow.
For Thine is the Kingdom
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow."
-- from "The Hollow Men", Thomas Stearns Eliot
Motionless and concealed, Blair knelt in the rushes at the edge of the river. Rain sheeted down from the stormy sky, fortuitously obscuring his scent. Through narrowed eyes and infrared-enhanced binoculars, he intently watched the movements of the Asurans in their nearby camp. Thirty meters away, Kali crouched in the reeds, a sleek, deadly shadow.
Two Pods, twelve Hunters. Three Asurans in camp, one Pod patrolling the perimeter and the others searching westward for him and Kali. And somewhere, in the midst of their fortified encampment, lay Jim's feverish body. Blair could sense his partner's presence, feel the echo of livid heat-shock and damaged organs through their Pair-Bond. Infection had set in, overcoming the dose of antibiotics. Jim lived, but was unconscious and very weak.
His screams upon interrogation had been mercifully brief.
*
Hours earlier...
As ordered, Blair and Kali had reluctantly fled south-westward carrying the communications crystals and half of Jim's gear, towards Base Camp, each step an agony of rage and indecision. The nauseating echo of Jim's fear, pain and betrayal had throbbed along their Pair-Bond.
An hour or so later, the threat of pursuit had faded and they'd paused, exhausted, beside a small stream. Crouched in the weeds and mud, splashing chill water upon his face, he'd choked on silent sobs, burning chunks of ice that lodged in his chest and throat, ripped jagged pieces from his bleeding heart with each shallow breath.
Against the small of his back, the Asuran sextet had hummed discordantly, a needless reminder of his Ranger oath, of the bitter equation: the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
Or of the one.
Blair had stared bleakly at his fractured reflection in the water, vaguely surprised that he hadn't shed tears of blood. Beside him, Kali had growled, lashed her tail and stalked in furious, anguished circles.
"How could I have left you alive, to be taken?" he'd hoarsely asked his pale, desolate reflection. "How can what we are together end here?"
He'd been unprepared for the answering storm of rage and grief that darkened his vision, melted the ice in his throat and lent strength to his shaking, exhausted limbs. And then, kneeling in the mud, one hand on his pale, grimy cheek, one hand clenched in Kali's stiff fur, he refused a future without his mate.
Crystals-greater good-be damned.
He'd sworn to Jim that there was a way; had staked his partner's life and pain upon it.
And so it would be.
*
Nightfall brought more rain. A steady, sheltering drizzle perfectly suited to his evening plans. Clad in dark, lightweight rain gear, Blair crouched silently upon a high branch, three hundred meters north of the Hunters' camp, just inside their patrol perimeter. Hands shaking from exhaustion and cold, he fished a final stim-tab from his belt-pouch and swallowed it dry.
From his new position, he had direct line-of-sight to the camp. Three Aurans huddled over their small camp stove while Jim lay tethered to a nearby tree. Jim was poorly dressed for the damp evening, and through his binoculars, he could see the spasmodic shivers as his partner struggled to ward off the cold. They'd stripped Jim of his communication equipment upon capture, and thus Blair had no way to inform Jim of his plans with any certainty. And so, throughout the afternoon hours, as he'd schemed and slithered through the damp vegetation, deftly and desperately avoiding the Asuran patrols, carefully planting remote-controlled Earth-Rapers, he'd also whispered encouragement and coded details to his partner. He had no way to know if Jim were conscious or lucid enough to understand him. He tried not to be discouraged by the weak, muted-red pulse along their Pair-Bond.
Two hours ago, he'd finished his preparations and retreated to the tree to rest and wait while Kali stealthily slipped into position in the marshes southeast of the camp. When the lavender-gray sky yielded to slate and then charcoal, Blair stripped down, packed his gear, tethered himself to the shaggy tree trunk. Rising slowly, he took deep, even breaths to calm nervous jitters. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the tether and spread his arms wide. Rain pattered gently on the dying leaves, splashing rhythmically upon his upturned face. And despite his fear, the throbbing pain in his shoulder, the staggering uncertainty and questionable ethics of his plan, Blair smiled. Never before had he, or anyone he'd heard of made such an attempt, and underlying the grim necessity of his actions was an unsuppressable bubble of excitement, enthusiasm and curiosity.
"Save it, Sandburg," he muttered darkly to himself and then ruthlessly opened his other-senses to the Elements.
The sensation -- a slight tingling, soon to become a dark, bone deep hum -- began at the soles of his feet, ascending rapidly to calf, then thigh, hips, chest and throat. Vibrant heat arose from his perineum, spiraled upward igniting within his solar plexus and beneath his breast-bone. It flashed up his spine, through each whirring energy gate to the crown of his head. Static electricity crackled in his hair and between his spread fingers. And behind his eyes, indigo darkness burst, unfurled into a firmament of stars that wheeled languidly towards dawn around an ever-brightening, pulsing pole star. Fatigue and fear dropped away in the sacred, star-lit silence as he hung suspended in the newly created rift-between-the-worlds: limbs afire, a living conduit between the swiftly massing powers of Heaven and Earth. He drew breath and mentally shouted into the void:
"Mother, hear me!"
Blair felt the distant, subterranean rumble as the Earth inhaled deeply, paused, then exhaled into him: strength and courage flowed into his trembling limbs. It seemed as if a cool, thick liquid slipped between his lips, down his throat spreading awareness, warmth and healing.
"Father, hear me!"
In answer, tremendous sound and light splintered the Heavens and thunder roared through his bones. Rain lashed from the Sky stinging his skin and the rising wind howled desolately, a bereft lover's lament.
"Brothers! Sisters! Hear me!"
From the north and the west an eerie wailing joined the storm's sudden fury. He felt the growing presence of the Pack in his mind, a tumble of growls, graceful, furred limbs, gleaming teeth and narrowed yellow eyes. Head thrown back, icy rain pelting his face, he raised his own voice -- in outrage, grief and resolve -- to meld with theirs in song.
And when his throat was raw and his grief exhausted, as the answering howls of his lupine brothers and sisters drew near, Blair finally opened his eyes upon a riotous vista of wind- and rain-lashed trees starkly strobed by lightning flashes. His other-senses sang with the fierce power of the elements unleashed on his behalf.
Scanning the nearby tree tops and the roiling clouds overhead, he smiled with satisfaction as the scene before him rippled sensuously revealing an previously imperceptible verdant tapestry, writhing with life and passion intimately overlaying the autumn bones of the Forest. The twelve scattered Asuran hunters, shone like tangled, poisonous greasy-black threads, pulsing ribbons of energy connecting the Pairs. Native creatures swarmed the Forest floor, bright glowing shapes to his other-sight. Shuddering trees whispered his name and groaned in the wind. From three hundred meters distant, his beloved mate's beautiful colors-tawny gold and russet, the texture of his spirit-as smooth and adamantine as river-rock, his deep, spicy salt-tang, all filled Blair's open senses.
"Be ready, James."
Though his whisper was lost in the maelstrom, Jim's weak, though unmistakable reply surged back along their Pair-Bond. Exhilarated, buoyed by the storm's fury, Blair laughed: never had his other-senses been so attuned, never had he perceived the world with such clarity.
He watched unconcerned as the scattered Asurans, confused by the storm and alerted by his howls of defiance, broke formation and struggled through the storm-torn Forest, searching in vain for his current location. Blair quickly skinned down the rain-slick branches and dropped the last few meters to the ground. He drew his laser pistol and crouched, waiting.
Minutes later, sleek shapes slipped through the gaps in the Asuran defense perimeter. Breathy pants and growls filled his mind, followed by gray, silken whispers:
*We come.*
Blair paused, abruptly afraid. The darkness seemed sinister, the voices alien, his body and will all too frail to complete the task he contemplated.
Wet slick fur brushed his thighs, cold noses pressed into his empty left palm. Strong jaws closed gently over his wrist, dragging him forward at a run, along the barely visible trail.
*Join us, brother,* the voices insisted.
And emptying his mind of fear, embracing their resolve, Blair carefully pressed six glyphs on his wrist compunit and surrendered...
// Alea iacta est: the die is cast. //
Lush, rich scents teased his suddenly acute nostrils; he sneezed; shook water as if from heavy, shaggy fur.
// One miss'ippi... //
Slim, graceful limbs stretched and flexed. He joined his grinning, laughing, and yet fiercely resolved siblings as they streamed silently through the Forest towards the Asuran camp. And Jim.
// ...Two miss'ippi... //
And as he ran -- exhilarated by the enticing new sensations from his borrowed senses, by the joyful, welcoming and predatory voices in his mind -- Blair counted grimly. The soft tones of the timer's count-down went unheard over the wails of the storm.
// ...Twelve miss'ippi... //
Up ahead, the Forest shuddered with a dual Asuran presence. Before he could react, blinding lightning forked from the sky, tearing through the trees, cauterizing the wound inflicted by the two Hunters' existence.
// ...Twenty-six miss'ippi... //
Pain hammered behind his breast-bone and eyes as he stretched his borrowed
senses, seeking with growing desperation. Behind him, from the north and
west, he could feel other Hunters converging upon his position. Ahead,
he tasted dark menace from those guarding Jim in camp. Around and through
him, the bodies and minds of the Pack pressed with intimate urgency. To
the south, he felt Kali slip through the marshes towards camp. Although
deep in the shamanic trance, he
nonetheless worriedly compared his awareness of his siblings' locations
and those of the Asurans with his mental map: the margin for error was
frightfully slim.
// ...Twenty-nine miss'i -- //
Behind them, the Forest erupted in fire.
He stumbled, staggered by the titanic concussion of the three simultaneous explosions and the dying screams of Aliens, plants and animals. The torrential sheets of rain hissed against the far-flung burning brands peppering the ground at his feet. But the leading edge of the wave of his four-footed siblings swept him inexorably forward, into the circle of half-drowned firelight of the Asuran camp.
Neither Blair nor his companions spared breath for words or cries of warning or comfort, both of which would have been lost to the fury of the storm. Instead, they struck with ruthless, preternatural speed and efficiency.
His first two laser bolts glanced off the glistening shoulder armor of the Asuran who had Jim pinned to the ground, knee in the small of his back and a knife at his throat. The third bolt caught the Hunter under the chin as he turned, in the small, pale patch of scaly throat between breast plate and helmet. Blair ducked low under the returning fire of the other Asurans, momentum carrying him halfway across the small clearing. He rolled through the mud and knelt defensively over Jim's sprawled form, pistol and sonic knife drawn.
"Christ, Sandburg," his lover rasped weakly. "What the hell are you doing here?" Jim stared up at him, utterly astonished. "I thought I was imagining things this afternoon..."
// Did you really think I'd leave you to die, James? //
Blair had no time to savor his mate's awareness. "Stay down, Ellison."
His concern was unnecessary: the black and gray shapes of Kali and his lupine brethren, teeth and claws bared, flickered in the dying firelight and the frequent blue-white streaks of lightning. Agonized screams, the stench of singed fur, of blood and death, assaulted his senses above the storm borne chaos. The nearby Hunters were dead. Those outside the ring of fire were delayed. Instinctively, Blair shifted towards his wounded, embattled companions.
*Go.*
The insistent voices made him pause.
"Sandburg. What--?"
Blair paused, torn between his mate and his wounded kin.
*Take your mate, brother. Go.*
He stared down into his lover's fever-bright eyes. There was no time for a much-desired tender reunion. Swiftly, he cut Jim's bonds.
"Lie still, James."
Seeking the still heart of his Center, Blair inhaled deeply and brushed blood, mud and rain from Jim's face. Leaning down, he gently pressed his lips to Jim's icy ones and exhaled. A cool stream of strength borrowed from Earth and Sky flowed into his mate. The cold skin rapidly heated beneath Blair's trembling hands. His own strength, and that of the storm diminished perceptibly. Worriedly, Blair sat back on his heels and briefly examined the patches of sky visible overhead. The rain had slackened considerably and the lightning and thunder was becoming more distant.
"Blair." Thankfully, Jim's voice was stronger and the feverish glint gone from his eyes. Regardless, the hum of their Pair-Bond was laced with pain and stiffness, liberally overlaid with amazed gratitude. "What happened?" Blair helped him to sit and dug the rain gear from the pack.
"Quick! Put this on!"
Blair helped his partner struggle into the warmer garment and stagger to his feet. Quickly scanning Jim with his other-senses, he gauged his partner's physical condition. Beneath the strength provided by Earth and Sky, he sensed sickness and exhaustion, barely held at bay: they had little time.
"Can you make it to the river?"
But Blair didn't wait for an answer, merely grabbed a convenient wrist
and dragged his mate towards the marshes. The Asuran's left alive would
not be delayed indefinitely. The flames might briefly confuse the satellite
trackers, but unless the three of them moved quickly, the dire possibility
remained that their escape could be tracked from the air. Two exhausted
human and one battle-torn cat, even aided by twenty or thirty wolves, would
be no match against a well-armed
platoon of Hunters and a concentrated air strike.
"What's the plan?" Jim rasped.
Plan? Blair scoffed mentally. The desperate scheme he'd concocted hardly deserved the lofty designation of 'plan'.
"Get to the river." He panted. "Float downstream two klicks. Come ashore just before the rapids. Head west to the outer boundary marker." Five hundred meters downstream, the river turned sharply westward for another fifteen hundred, before becoming, once again, churning rapids leading to a steep water fall. Although the river would significantly cut their travel time, it posed other, more serious obstacles including the frigid, storm-tossed waters and the looming rapids and waterfall.
Blair snorted to himself at Jim's skeptical look and lack of comment. Shrugging, he forced a path through the mud and reeds to the river.
*
After dragging themselves from the icy river, they limped painfully through the Forest for nearly three and a half hours. The foreign Earth strength was welcome, though not sufficient to erase weeks of pain, fear and exhaustion.
The storm had blown itself out and patches of moonlight shone through the trees, glittering brightly on muddy pools and slick leaves. Relentlessly, Blair pushed them westward towards the outer boundary and the possibility of Ranger reinforcements, eighteen klicks away. Each time Jim faltered, Blair ruthlessly pulled him along, fearing that at any moment, their borrowed strength would fail.
"Can you sense them, Jim?" Blair gasped, straining his own senses to seek the Hunters. Seven were confirmed dead: he'd felt and heard their agonized cries and the Forest's rejoicing. That left five. And any reinforcements they might have gathered.
"Senses off-line, Sandburg." His partner panted with a painful-sounding wheeze. "I can barely see the fucking ground."
"Shit."
They desperately staggered on, trusting his own and Kali's senses far beyond Blair's level of comfort. No help for it, though: it was a minor miracle that they lived at all. His mind shied away from the thought of the price he might ultimately pay for the wanton use of his abilities and the numerous deaths he'd caused. His only comfort was his lover's cherished presence and the distant, triumphant howls of his siblings.
// Thank you, my friends. //
He didn't dare hope that they might follow, or continue to guard him.
Four hours later, vision blurred with exhaustion, Blair called a halt. The moon had shifted and the spicy tang of oncoming dawn teased his nose. Consulting the map and proximity markers on his wrist unit, he realized they'd come farther than he'd thought: only seven klicks left to the boundary.
"Just a little further, Jim," he whispered to his partner. Eyes closed, panting raggedly, Jim leaned against a nearby tree.
"You shouldn't have come back."
Blair ignored his mate's comment, instead focussing upon the sounds of the waking Forest, the faint hint of Asuran corruption that teased at the edge of his awareness. And the problem of getting them all safely back to Base Camp, with the crystals.
"Did you hear me, Sandburg?" Jim demanded softly. "You shouldn't have come back."
"Get this through your head, Ellison." Stepping close, Blair gripped his mate's biceps hard, punctuating each word with a shake. "We finish this mission together! Or not at all."
A fierce kiss silenced Jim's protests. Then Blair dragged him away from the tree, back along the trail, Kali a darker shadow beside them.
Thirty minutes later, vile black contagion rippled through the Forest, reaching greedy corrupt fingers towards him and his companions: at least two Hunters, perhaps three.
"Jim!" He whispered fiercely. "Two -- maybe three -- Hunters ahead!"
Turning back to Jim, he froze with horror. His lover had slipped to his knees in the mud, shivering violently.
"Sandburg. I can't go any further."
"Shit, James!" Blair hurried to Jim's side, ducking under his arm and helping him to the base of a nearby tree. Jim collapsed heavily, breath shallow and labored. His skin was clammy and his eyes widely dilated in the dying moonlight. Pressing gentle fingers along Jim's throat, placing an ear against his chest, Blair groaned softly. The Earth-strength had fled, leaving no defense between Jim and the ravages of infection, pain and exhaustion. Kali crowded close, growling in distress, licking mournfully at Jim's pale cheek.
Blair pulled his thermal blanket from his pack and wrapped it around his partner's shoulders. After he'd made Jim as comfortable as possible, injecting him again with a combination of antibiotics and pain killers, he quickly took inventory of his remaining weapons. He had no choice but to make a stand here. Take out as many Asurans as possible and hope Jim recovered enough by morning to continue on.
After checking the charge on his laser pistol and arming his concussion grenades, he leaned over and kissed Jim lightly. He smiled when his partner's eyes opened.
"You know that you're insane, Sandburg." Jim chuckled, far too weakly. "Like a fucking pit bull. Short, furry and you don't give up. Even when you probably should."
"Fuck you, Ellison," Blair said affectionately and stole another kiss, struggling to ignore his mate's icy skin and nearly convulsive shivers. "You know you love it."
"Yep." Jim smiled and closed his eyes. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Blair brushed his knuckles across Jim's cheek and rose slowly, joints stiff and muscles aching. "I won't leave you again."
His lover's pained laugh was nearly voiceless. "Big surprise."
As dawn neared tingling the sky and the trees ash gray, the Asuran presence grew in intensity even as Blair's strength and enhanced other-senses waned. Nearly twenty-four hours without sleep, little food, countless kilometers, skirmishes, blood loss and pain left him drained and exhausted. Ruthlessly, he drew upon the Earth for additional assistance, ignoring the searing burn in his chest and head. Though he could hear the distant song of the pack, he had no way now to call them, even had they been close enough to arrive in time.
"It's you and me, Kali," he said softly, gripping his companion's damp, stiff fur. He was rewarded with a deep growl and flash of bared teeth. Stark hatred and resolve flowed from her in waves.
Suddenly, Kali stiffened. Shaking with exhaustion, Blair frantically scanned the neighboring trees. He nearly gasped aloud as one of the nearby trees shimmered with an Asuran cloaking device and then Forest erupted with laser fire.
Adrenaline loosened his limbs and he rolled away quickly and returned fire. A shower of sparks and crackling blue-white energy outlining the Asuran's breast plate signaled a direct hit on the cloaking device's power supply. Kali bounded forward, darting agilely under the energy beams, to engage the Hunter. Blair immediately had his hands full as the other two Asurans converged upon his and Jim's position, firing indiscriminately.
"Fuck!"
He scuttled backwards towards Jim's tree, guts tightened with fear. Kali might be able to take out one Hunter, but he was at a serious disadvantage battling the other two. Especially given his need to remain stationary to protect Jim. Darting behind the huge trunk of a neighboring tree, he paused to launch a sonic grenade to buy himself more time, hoping that Kali was out of range.
A sharp whistle, then a rain of leaves and sticks, followed by an outraged Asuran howl of pain heralded his gambit's success. A short distance away through the trees, Kali roared triumphantly and the sense of disease and corruption from the northwest dropped from his mind. The laser fire was now concentrated in one direction, with only occasional bursts from the southwest, where he assumed that the wounded Asuran was positioned. He tracked Kali's stealthy progress towards that Hunter through his weakening other-senses.
Abruptly, the presence intensified behind his tree. Blair brought his pistol up swiftly, but fatigue slowed his reflexes. Stars flashed behind his eyes when the Hunter's huge fist lashed out and struck his head. Ears ringing, clinging desperately to consciousness and his gun, he rolled with the blow, fighting nausea and pain. A booted foot struck his side.
The crunch of ribs was sickening.
Breathing shallowly, fearful of a punctured lung, he rolled again, absurdly grateful that the Asuran had chosen to toy with its prey, rather than killing him outright. Weakly, he sought to raise his pistol, only to discover that he'd lost it. Pain fogging his vision, he glared up at the Asuran. The dark apparition loomed over him, helmet removed and rifle leveled. He needed no translation for the guttural words that accompanied the ugly sneer.
// I'm sorry, Jim. //
An ear-splitting roar shattered the silence.
Kali!
Surprised, the Asuran half-turned to meet the new threat.
Summoning the last of his strength, Blair rose to his knees and pressed both palm-triggers, firing twin titanium-tipped climbing pitons point blank into the Asuran's torso. The Alien screamed and stumbled sideways to one knee, pulling at the spikes deeply embedded in its armor. Rounding the tree, screaming in fury, Kali pounced, slamming the Asuran to the ground, sending the rifle skidding away. Struggling to his feet, Blair grabbed his pistol and limped over to the supine body just as Kali prepared to rip its out its exposed throat.
"Wait!" Blair commanded weakly.
Kali paused, gleaming jaws inches away from the wild-eyed Hunter's throat.
And staring numbly at the form of the fallen Hunter, its helmet gone, armor splattered with blood and gore, Blair coughed and smiled suddenly, as inspiration struck.
"The Desolator desolate!
The Victor overthrown!
The Arbiter of other's fate
A Suppliant for his own!"
-- Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte, George Gordon, Lord Byron
Grimly, mouth set and pistol in hand, Blair watched dispassionately as the Asuran regained consciousness. Dawn painted the sky with purple and pink streaks.
"Do you speak my language?"
"Yes, little Human." The Alien's sneer transformed his bloody face into a hideous mask and his words into a curse.
"Get up," Blair ordered.
"I cannot."
Blair narrowed one eye and carefully sighted along the barrel of his laser pistol, finger on the trigger. "Get. Up." He had no time for gentle persuasion: Jim's condition had worsened.
The Asuran stared back and then lurched to his feet, swaying. Even weak from blood loss, stripped of his armor and weapons, the Alien was still physically imposing. Blair backed up a few steps to gain more room to maneuver, teeth clenched against the nausea engendered by the Asuran's presence and his broken ribs.
With his left hand, he gestured at Jim's still form lying beside the tree. "Pick him up."
The being narrowed one slit-pupiled green eye.
"No." Testing.
Kali growled menacingly, hackles raised.
Coldly, Blair took aim and fired. The glowing red laser bolt sped past the Asuran's tufted, spiky ear and ripped into the tree behind him, throwing sawdust and jagged splinters.
"I said pick him up." Blair gestured threateningly. "And come with me."
"And if I do not?"
Blair gritted clenched teeth against a fresh wave of pain and the equally nauseating violation of his ethics. "Then you will die." Fuck it. He could deal with the outraged voice of his conscience later, when they were all safe.
The Hunter considered silently, gauging Blair's resolve.
"I will die in any case."
"No." Blair shook his head. "If you help me, I'll let you go."
"You lie." The hair on the back of Blair's neck rose as the Asuran laughed. "I see my death in your eyes, Human."
Blair shrugged off the sensation and repeated his demand. "Help me now. Or die now. Choose."
Slowly, sullenly, the huge alien knelt and hoisted Jim in his arms, staggering somewhat under the awkward weight.
"I am injured, Human." A grimace crossed the horrifyingly ugly face.
Blair shrugged. "So am I. Now move."
The long trek through the Forest was tense, with only the occasional rasp, cough or grunt of pain breaking the early morning silence. Neither Blair nor the wounded Asuran were inclined to speak. Beside them, Kali paced restlessly, constantly circling, growling, scrutinizing the Alien. Blair walked several meters to the right and back of the Asuran, noting the way the being favored its right arm and leg.
As they walked through morning to mid-morning and finally to noon, Blair monitored Jim's flickering life signs through their Pair-Bond and clung tightly to the waning dregs of the Earth-strength. The haze of pain, hunger and fatigue had become familiar. Almost comforting. A reminder that he still lived, that there was still hope. And even though terrified, exhausted and more desperate than he'd ever felt before, a strangely unaffected part of his brain carefully analyzed his interactions with the Alien. Had his ribs hurt less, he might have laughed aloud. Always the academic, as Jim would say.
If they could reach the outer perimeter, five klicks from their current position, if he could stay alert long enough to prevent the Asuran from killing them all, if the Asuran didn't die of his wounds, then Blair could safely activate his transponder and the wards and signal for help.
If. Again, far too many 'ifs' for comfort.
Three klicks from the beacon, the Asuran staggered and dropped to his knees, sickly green blood streaming from the wounds in his belly and chest. Jim's unconscious form toppled limply from his arms as he fell.
"Get up, damn you!" Blair shouted hoarsely.
"No further," the being gasped, chest heaving. He pressed a single gloved hand to his bleeding stomach and groaned deeply. "I cannot continue."
Blair circled the Asuran slowly, pistol drawn, wary of a trick. Beside him, Kali snarled and snapped at the fallen Alien. Mentally bracing himself, Blair reached with over-taxed senses and tasted the bitter energies surrounding the creature. His vital signs were low, he was clearly near death. Even had Blair known how, had his earth-gifted healing skills been compatible with Asuran physiology, he still would have had no idea how to heal this being.
"You will, dammit!" His voice broke. Unwanted, tears blurred his vision and streamed down his face.
"Do it, Human." the Asuran coughed, gesturing at Blair's pistol. "What's one more death to your kind?"
"One more death to me?" Blair spat. "Fuck you! You've defiled my planet, enslaved and slain my people, destroyed my world!"
"The strong conquer the weak, Human." The harshly accented voice taunted.
Without the Asuran's strength, he and Jim were lost.
"And your race is weak. Pitiful."
His strength was rapidly draining away, like water from a broken pot.
"You deserve your slavery."
The night-dark rage and despair that had simmered in his belly for what sometimes seemed to be his entire life abruptly boiled over.
Blair snarled. "And you deserve death."
A single burst of laser fire obliterated the Asuran's twisted smile. Shocked and sickened, Blair turned away from the foul stench of burning flesh and vomited green bile.
And blood.
"Shit!"
After wiping his mouth with shaking fingers, he limped to Jim's side. Weeping in pain and frustration, he managed to wrap an arm around Jim's torso, lever him up and doggedly drag his mate a few feet away from the Asuran. He wavered for a moment, struggling to remain upright. Then he crumpled, collapsing under his partner's heavy, limp body, pistol falling from nerveless fingers. There, he lay panting and sobbing. Kali whined piteously, alternately licking his face and dragging him bit by bit, teeth clenched around his harness.
// Damn you, Sandburg! Get up! //
But his strength had fled.
"Kali! Base Camp! Go!" he insisted instead, trying to shrug off his pack to get to the crystals. If Kali could be persuaded to carry them back to camp, their mission could be completed.
She growled and snapped, refusing.
"Kali, please!"
He'd thought his capacity for fear had been exhausted, that he was too numb to care what might come next. Kali crouched suddenly, hackles raised, snarling towards the northwest, and he learned otherwise. Listening intently, he heard foreign sounds, the distant snapping of twigs, the unnatural silence of bird song. His overtaxed senses failed to yield anything but blankness.
The Hunters had found them again.
"Oh gods!"
One hand thrashing helplessly, with the last of his strength, he sought but failed to reach his pistol. He barely managed to activate his transponder -- a hopeless, useless gesture -- before the world spun away into a darkness mercifully free of pain.
"They only can feel freedom truly who
Have long worn chains."
-- Thoughts on Freedom, George Gordon, Lord Byron
He awoke abruptly and lay still.
Something wet slipped down the side of his face and into his ear. Soothing hands wiped a damp cloth across his brow, jaw and then retreated.
"Sandburg!" A gruff, familiar voice called imperiously. Other indistinct voices clamored in the background.
"--Is he awake? Let me see him--"
A slight breeze brushed his cheek, then soft-soled shoes squeaked on the floor, moving away from the bed.
"--Sirs, you can't come in here now--"
Two insistent male voices spoke over one another.
One commanding and brash. "--I don't care about your damned policy--"
The other soft yet insistent. "--He's been out of surgery for over twelve hours now--"
Silently and motionlessly, out of long, cautious habit, Blair carefully took inventory. He lay naked on his back, on a soft surface, unrestrained. He felt a slight pinch of an IV in the back of his hand and the cool rush of oxygen into his nostrils piped through a tube. Sharp, medicinal scents teased his nose and the hum and beep of nearby machinery competed with the rising voices.
"Sir! You can't--" A female voice approaching the bed protested.
Hospital. He was in a hospital.
"Don't tell me what I can't--"
Heavy footsteps advanced and his bed was jostled.
"Dammit, Sandburg! Will you wake up already?"
"Sir! If you insist upon staying, you'll have to keep your voice down!"
Pain lanced through his aching body and head. He struggled to open his eyes and focus. A grim-faced shape loomed over him.
"Simon?" What that his voice, so weak, cracked and hoarse? Confused, he blinked rapidly trying to clear grit from his eyes.
"Thank god!" The dark, grinning face above him resolved into that of his Captain. Simon's face wore a rare smile. "Jesus, Sandburg! You and Ellison scared the shit out of us!"
"Jim?" Where was he? Blair felt only a burning ache where his awareness of their Pair-Bond should be. Panicked, he tried to rise. A strong hand pressed him back to the pillow. Why was he so weak? The interior hollowness, the stark absence of connection frightened him.
"Jim's just fine, Blair." A second voice said quietly, sounding pleased. "Came through surgery without a hitch."
"Surgery?" Blair echoed blankly. His mind was blanketed by heavy fog and his throat was parched. The void within was unnerving. "Joel?" The other man smiling down at him seemed familiar.
"Yeah, Blair. It's me." Joel gently placed his hand upon Blair's shoulder. "Jim had surgery to repair that hole in his shoulder and the broken bones. And antibiotics to kick those bugs in his system. He's sleeping off the anesthetics now."
"Where--?"
"Right next to you." Joel stepped to the side and pointed. It took tremendous effort to turn his head. In the next bed, his partner lay, a pale, haggard shape against the threadbare, over-washed white cotton of the sheets.
Joel squeezed his hand. "Don't worry. He's gonna be okay--"
"Which was almost more than we could say about you, Sandburg." Simon interrupted sternly. "You had broken ribs, a punctured lung, a concussion, and you're now minus a spleen. Not to mention--"
Blair ignored the recitation of his injuries. Feeling a bit stronger, the world more in focus, he carefully wet his lips. "The crystals..."
"The crystals were sent over to engineering, Blair." Joel patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Came through without a scratch."
"And Kali?"
"She's still over with the vet, getting patched up."
"But she'll be fine?"
Joel nodded. "She's gonna be fine."
Blair sighed with relief, tension and fear, too long held, finally eased. As he relaxed, sharp-edged images crowded his mind. He remembered blood, green and red mixed, and pain; he recalled the crisp scent of pine and the rotting carrion stench of death. He remembered the hideous awareness of impending death. He and Jim were in a hospital now. How had they come to be here?
"But the Asurans...how...?"
"Asurans? What Asurans?" Simon snorted. "There *weren't* any, Blair. You'd killed them all, for chrissakes!"
Blair frowned at Simon, completely confused. He struggled to sit upright again, and Joel finally raised the head of the bed for him. The old motor creaked shrilly. "But I heard more Hunters. Approaching from the northwest--"
"Not Aliens, Blair. Rangers." His Captain chuckled darkly. "You have Joel to thank for that. If he and the other three musketeers hadn't disobeyed direct orders--" Simon glared at Joel "--and been ten klicks outside the authorized patrol zone, and been using illegal, potentially monitorable technology to detect your transponder signal, we'd have never known you and Jim were out there. You weren't overdue for another nine hours." A lot could have happened in nine hours.
Joel shared a conspiratorial grin and squeezed his hand again. "Henri, Rafe and Megan send their regards."
Blair grinned back, wincing slightly at the pain in his jaw.
"Of course, I suppose I should have known that something was up," Simon continued in a slightly more moderate tone, "when half the goddamn forest went up in flames last night. As your commanding officer, Sandburg, I feel compelled to ask exactly what the hell you and Jim thought you were doing?"
"Simon," Joel interrupted softly. "Blair's not up to this right now, let's just--"
"You took an Asuran hostage, for godsake!"
How had Simon guessed that?
"Um--"
"You disobeyed orders."
Blair grimaced. Ordinarily, he felt more than equal to the task of fencing with Simon. But now, head still muzzy with drugs, unutterable fatigue weighting his limbs, he wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers. "I know, Simon, but--"
"Captain." Simon corrected absently. "And for some reason, I'm betting that you had something to do with the violent thunder storm last night and the unprecedented wolf activity as well. Am I right?"
Blair blinked at Simon, well and truly stunned.
Fists on his hips, Simon glared at him. "You and Jim took an absolutely unconscionable, inexcusable risk to the mission. What the hell am I going to do with you, Sandburg?"
"Uh--"
Wide-eyed and mentally off balance, Blair stared at Simon's stern expression.
"If either of you ever -- I mean ever -- pull such an insane, ridiculous, demented, brave, heroic idiotic stunt like that, I'll --"
The corner of Simon's mouth twitched as he tried to hide a smile.
"You'll what, Simon?" Blair asked blandly, awake now, and more at ease.
Simon sputtered. "I'll...I'll be forced to give you both promotions!"
Blair groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes. "The dreaded promotion."
"Yeah, Blair," Joel added wryly. "Think of it. Then you'd have *Simon's* job. Managing other wayward sentinels and guides."
He shuddered delicately and Simon chuckled, placing his hand atop Blair's. "Ya done good, kid," he said softly. "I know what the killing cost you."
"Thanks, Simon." Blair ruthlessly suppressed the threatening tears, knowing too well that his actions would relentlessly haunt him.
"I'll deny it if anyone asks," Simon warned.
Blair smiled and drew breath to respond when a noise from the other bed caught his attention. He turned to meet the drowsy gaze of his lover. His breath caught in his throat.
After a lengthy silence, Joel laughed quietly. "Simon, I think that's our cue."
He barely heard their parting words; his full attention was focussed upon the pale figure in the next bed. Jim. Safe and whole. The tears finally spilled down his cheeks when he realized that he hadn't felt his lover's returning awareness.
The Earth giveth and the Earth taketh away.
"Jim." He whispered brokenly. The bed railing was too difficult to lower, so he simply reached, painfully stretching sutures and torn muscle.
Jim's trembling finger tips brushed lightly against his.
"Blair." His lover's voice was barely audible over the whir and hiss of the machinery. "I love you."
A tiny flame flickered beneath his breast bone when their fingers met, flaring into a sudden comforting warmth and he scarcely dared to hope. Jim lived. Kali lived. They were safe, their mission complete. That was enough.
"I love you too, James."
Clearly exhausted, Jim slipped back against his sheets, breaking contact and closing his eyes. But Blair continued to reach, arm outstretched and growing numb, as if he could bridge the distance between their bodies as easily as their words had forever joined their hearts.
Far beneath the surface of the earth they gathered: safely hidden from kiss of dawn or caress of twilight. Six groups on six continents gathered clandestinely in long forgotten subway tubes, damp caves bristling with stalactites, in deep, abandoned government bomb shelters. Nearly one hundred folk in all.
And at 08:00 -- at what would once have been considered Greenwich Mean Time -- as one, they knelt and offered thanks. In many languages and to many deities, they offered thanks to the men and women, sentinels and guides, sixteen of whom had given their lives, to provide Humanity with concrete hope and the possibility of a future free of subjugation.
Five minutes passed, whereupon the one hundred odd technicians, scientists, military leaders and support personnel concluded their prayers and swiftly went to work.
...In six specially constructed, electronically shielded rooms at equidistant points throughout the world, six Asuran communications sextets lay quiescent and yet paradoxically writhing, seething within their nutritive medium. Flagrantly warping space, they spanned the gaps between the delicate quantum biochips and the spidery tendrils of the associated neural communications networks.
...Miles above the earth, three geosynchronous 'black' satellites (launched surreptitiously by NATO in 2011 to monitor the escalating situation in Central Asia and the Middle East and long presumed dormant) abruptly switched from stand-by-mode, unfurled their antennae and rotated lazily into position.
...At three long thought abandoned and no longer Asuran-policed sites: Madrid, Canberra, Goldstone -- legacy of NASA's Deep Space Network -- the parabolic dishes of three radio telescopes slowly and gracefully arced through the final one degree and thirty-six minutes of their rotation begun twenty-four days earlier.
...08:43 and silently, tensely, the assembled personnel waited as the complicated, distributed satellite uplink and downlink process commenced.
Within seconds, arcane symbols flashed across the monitors at each of the six hidden locations. Computer and biologic equipment hummed as the Asuran decoders were activated and incoming telemetry streamed through the priceless sextets. With ease, the Asuran decryption algorithms swiftly and accurately decoded the data stream. Numbers -- declination, right ascension, latitude and longitude -- flashed by, followed by text and images: coordinates, armament capabilities, schematics, military positions, civilian installations and slave camps.
Fifteen minutes later, the thunderous multilingual cheering finally segued into the hum of intense activity. Maps were unrolled across tables cluttered with coffee cups. Schematics were clicked open on wall-sized monitors. Analysts bent to the task of studying Asuran military and civilian installations and devising strategies for rebel troop deployment, terrorist activity and territory reclamation.
And miles above them in the gray, enslaved cities, Humanity struggled miserably through another bleak day and night of Asuran occupation, as yet unaware of the miraculous gift that had been bestowed upon them. Unaware that their desperate daydreams of freedom were, for the first time in nearly fifty years, within their grasp.
Finis.