Burden of Sisyphus (22 page)

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Authors: Jon Messenger

BOOK: Burden of Sisyphus
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Smiling at her victory, Keryn flew toward the other edge of the field, searching for her next target.
 
A laser blast flashing beside her woke her from her stupor.
 

           
Diving down from above, a sleek, black Lithid dropped into place behind her, chasing her, as she streaked across the field one hundred feet above the lake’s glassy surface.
 

           
Sliding left and right, Keryn dodged a barrage of laser fire from the persistent Lithid.
 
Sweat ran down her forehead, as she tried to evade the cadet.
 
Already tired from her flight, she doubted she had much more energy to muster an escape.

           
Her salvation came in the form of a brutish, white-and-black Oterian who slammed into the pursuing Lithid with great force.
 
The explosion of fur and sleek black merged, as both spun out of control toward the gossamer net.

           
Relieved, Keryn scanned the field again.
 
The lake was much bigger than she would have believed.
 
Even with over two-thirds of the cadets still remaining on the field, she was a ridiculous distance away from most.
 
It would take minutes of flying to reach them and engage in combat.

           
A close aerial combat, however, caught her attention.
 
Two Avalons engaged in an epic battle, filled with dives and twists like nothing Keryn ever saw.
 
Their flights were poetic and beautiful.
 
Part of her wished to hover and watch, but a deeper part of her, driven by an animalistic urge for victory, drove her on.
 
That part didn’t see two Avalons caught in sadistic ballet—it saw two distracted targets, ready for easy elimination.

           
Closing the distance, she was almost able to reach the two fighters before the first tumbled away, seething rage cast on his paralyzed body.
 
The victor, hearing Keryn’s engine, turned.

           
Smiling sardonically, her fine hair whipping in the wind, Sasha watched her Wyndgaart rival approach.
 
Laughing she turned and flew off, inviting Keryn to follow.
 
Keryn tightened her grip on her pistol and set off in quick pursuit.
 
After being hunted by the Lithid moments before, she reveled in the chance to become the hunter.

           
Sasha led her through a series of feints and dives, leading her farther and farther from the other cadets.
 
It was as if they owned the airspace alone, as if the rest of the students faded away in excited expectation of the upcoming battle.
 
Firing a few shots, which Sasha easily dodged, Keryn kept weaving, as the Avalon lazily fired back over her head.
 
Though Sasha tried to keep Keryn at bay, she quickly closed the gap between them.

           
Lining up a shot on her much-closer opponent, Keryn was surprised when Sasha pulled into a steep climb.
 
Trying to follow with her eyes, she pulled up, and was temporarily blinded when she looked into the bright morning sun.
 
Sasha tricked her.

           
Suddenly fearful, knowing how easy it was to shift the delicate balance between hunter and hunted, Keryn spun around and fired, expecting Sasha to complete the loop and drop behind her.
 
As the afterimages faded, Keryn saw the air behind her was empty.
 
She had barely a moment to realize her folly when a laser shot struck her square in the chest—a perfect shot fired from above.

           
Her suit constricted, tightening her grip on both pistol and knife, while simultaneously freezing her limbs.
 
The tightness crept into her chest and back, limiting her lung’s ability to expand.
 
Tears of frustration streamed from her eyes, as her jetpack sputtered and died, and she began a mind-numbing freefall one hundred feet to the net.

           
The wind was knocked out of her when she struck the intangible net.
 
Bowing under her weight, it held her tightly.
 
Anger and frustration fueled her humiliation, and she cried unabated while held tightly in the web’s yellow glow.
 
She heard the sound of nearby jetpacks, as instructors came to check her status.
 
They called out to her, but she ignored them.

           
Keryn yearned to wipe her eyes and runny nose, but that was impossible within the paralytic suit.
 
To her surprise, moments later, her suit relaxed.
 
She took a deep breath and stared through blurred vision at the battle continuing above her.
  
Against all her careful planning and warrior training, she embarrassingly finished in the bottom third of her class.

           
“Brace yourself,” an instructor called, moments before the net disappeared beneath her.

           
Tumbling end over end, Keryn fell forty feet to the cold water below.
 
The impact was jarring, leaving her disoriented, as freezing mountain water rushed into her open mouth and filled her lungs.
 
Her suit provided another surprise by being buoyant, pulling her back to the surface.

           
Drenched and cold, she broke the surface and began retching, spilling lake water and bile down the front of her suit, only to be washed away by lapping waves.
 
Weak, tired, and emotionally and physically drained, Keryn struggled to the shore and crawled onto the soft sand.

           
She wasn’t sure how long she lay in the sand before a shadow covered her.
 
Looking, she tried to block the harsh light that fell over her and saw a black uniform and white Avalon wings—Victoria.
           

           
“Get up,” she said calmly but firmly.

           
Keryn awkwardly climbed to her feet and stood before the instructor.

           
“You’re a damn fine student and great soldier, but you still can’t get past the idea that every possible angle is a threat.
 
Sasha didn’t beat you because she’s a better flier.
 
She didn't beat you because she’s a better shot, either.
 
The truth is, she didn’t beat you.
 
You beat yourself.

           
“Take tonight off and do some soul-searching.
 
Find out what drives you to stay at the Academy.
 
If you can’t find a good reason to be here, feel free to stop by my office tomorrow and turn in your letter of resignation.”

           
Keryn stared at the ground, unable to make eye contact with the disappointed instructor.
 
Seeing no reply would be forthcoming, Victoria motioned toward the bus.
 
“Get on the bus and get some sleep tonight.
 
You’re dismissed, Cadet.”

           
Keryn walked to the bus in shame, ready for a ride back to the Academy.
 
More than anything, she wanted a warm shower and a night to herself, to soul-search, as Victoria called it.
 
Keryn wondered if there was something driving her to stay at the Academy.
 
When she left her home world, she assumed it was destiny when she was accepted into the prestigious school.
 
She wondered if it wasn’t just disdain for the Wyndgaart way of life.
 
Though she hated to admit it, maybe Sasha was right.
 
Maybe Keryn didn’t belong at the Academy.

           
I could’ve helped you back there,
the Voice offered.

           
“Go to hell.”
 
Dripping wet, Keryn climbed into the bus.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

           
“Did I hear gunfire?” Vance asked over the force-wide channel.
 
“Who fired?”

           
“I heard it, too,” Dallis replied, “but no one reported firing shots.”

           
“Find out who fired….”

           
“Michael,” Halo interrupted, “two of your soldiers’ vital signs just bottomed out.”

           
“Who?”
 
He felt the situation slipping out of control.

           
“Roberts and Gythrun.
 
They flat-lined within seconds of each other.”

           
Vance hastily motioned Decker and Dallis to join him.
 
“Who has eyes on our point men?”

           
“I did,” Decker admitted, “but we were receiving interference from the buildings in the business district.
 
I can’t pinpoint their exact location.”

           
Dallis shook his head.

           
“Halo,” Vance said, switching channels, “do you have eyes on either of them?”

           
“I’m sorry, Michael, but I lost them once they went inside the building.
 
I’m working off satellite imagery, so I can track you only when you’re visible from space.
 
Once you’re inside, you’re on your own.”

           
Vance pulled his mike away from his ear and stormed away from the others.
 
“Damn it!
 
Damn it!
 
Damn it!”

           
Regaining his composure, he returned to the group and readjusted his microphone.
 
“Platoons Two and Three, hold your position.
 
We have a situation.”

           
“Anything we can help with?” Onclav asked, his gravelly Lithid voice carrying clearly over the radio.

           
“No.
 
Just hold tight right now.”
 
Vance’s voice calmed, and a hard look came to his eyes.
 
“We’re going in to the area directly ahead, then rendezvous at the outpost on the far side of the city.”

           
“Roger that,” both warrants replied.

           
Vance scanned the collection of soldiers and team members holding their positions on both sides of the street.
 
Rubbing his black beard absently, he looked at the behemoth buildings looming nearby.

           
“What are you thinking, Sir?” Decker asked.

           
“I’m thinking that an intelligent man doesn’t march forty healthy soldiers into an area where two have mysteriously died.
 
An intelligent man turns around, gets back on the ship, and blows the whole city straight to hell.”

           
“But we aren’t going to do that, are we?”

           
“I wish we could, but we have our orders.”
 
He felt slightly dejected.
 
“Whatever information is in the military outpost, we need it.
 
If we hadn’t been ordered to scan the city, I would’ve just landed near the outpost, taken what we need, and left.”

           
“No one ever accused the infantry of being smart, Sir,” Decker joked.

           
Vance caught himself smiling.
 
“Get the men ready to move.
 
Something’s in the business district, and we’re going to find it.
 
Then we’re going to kill it.”

           
The infantry and Vance’s team broke from concealment and moved carefully down the road, scanning for any signs of movement from the buildings.
 
As the long shadows of the skyscrapers began to fall over them, the group slowed, taking time to search every potential ambush location thoroughly.

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