The World Forgot (23 page)

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Authors: Martin Leicht

BOOK: The World Forgot
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I spent all that time rescuing my baby girl, and now I've lost her all over again. And my mom has her? Where? Are they safe?

No. No time for this.
You're in a cave underneath the surface of Mars, Elvie Nara. You have an evil alien doctor holding you at gunpoint. The lives of your father, your friends, and yes, even the clone of your daughter, are at stake. Push it down. Push it deep down and save that worry for later. Right now you have to save the world.

“Marsden,” I say. “You're a putz.”

“Not your best insult, Miss Nara, but given the circumstances I'll let it slide.”

“Taking Chloe won't help you one bit.”

“It is my fifth attempt at splicing your offspring's hybrid DNA with the superior Jin'Kai code, and the only one to survive this long,” Marsden says. “My best shot at creating a sustainable breeding population lies in her cells.”

“Marsden, haven't you listened to a single thing that I've been saying?” I snap. “Your DNA
cannot overwrite the hybrid gene
. This was all by design. You lie with Enosi, and Enosi is all you're going to get.”

“Lies!”
Marsden booms. “I will unlock the secret! Make it viable. We will never need to depend on an inferior race again. We will be eternal!”

“I should point out,”
Merv butts in,
“that the intruders have engaged the final line of turrets. Shields at twenty-nine percent. If this room is breached, I will be forced to terminate life support.”

“Do you plan on being a complete racist idiot the rest of your soon-to-be-very-short life?” I rage at the doc. “There's still a way for everyone to walk away from this!”

“You know, Elvie, now that I think about it, I don't find you all that charming anymore. Perhaps your particular brand of snark has grown old.” He tightens his grip on his gun. “Maybe it's time that we shut you up once and for all.”

“Stop!” Chloe shouts. She looks at me for a brief second, then turns to Marsden, her mind made up. “I'll go with you.”

The surprise is written all over Marsden's face, as I'm sure it is on mine.

“I'll come without a fight, all right?” Chloe tells him. “Just don't hurt anyone.”

“I'm not in the mood for tricks,” Marsden warns.

“No tricks. You leave them be, and I come with you. You don't, and you'll have to extract the DNA you need from your ass, 'cause that's where my foot will be.”

“Chloe,” I say, suddenly choked up. “You don't have to do this. There must be some other—”

“If there's one thing you taught me, it's that I have the right to choose my own path,” she says. “So. This is my choice. Besides, I'm not even really your daughter.”

“I might not have given birth to you,” I say. “But either way, you're my daughter. That foot-up-the-ass remark seems to prove it.”

I get a slight smile out of her with that. “I hope you find your real daughter,” she tells me. Then she turns back to Marsden. “We have a deal?”

“We have a deal,” he says.

Chloe walks slowly over to him, her hands raised. As soon as she gets close to him, Marsden shoves Ducky away and grabs hold of her, pulling her against him into the same headlock.

“Of course, you realize I can't just leave them here to continue what they're doing,” Marsden says, raising the gun toward me again, his finger on the trigger.

“And of course you realize that you should have checked me for a weapon,” Chloe says. Her hand flies into her tunic and she squeezes. The blaster shot sizzles through the loose fabric on her back and catches Marsden in the ribs. “How's that free will taste, scumbag?”

Marsden cries out, stumbling back a few steps. Chloe tries to pull the gun free to get off another shot, but Marsden kicks her squarely in the face, knocking her out cold.

“Chloe!” I scream, rushing to her on the ground.

That's when Cole and Byron make their move on Marsden. The doctor gets off a shot that hits Byron in the shoulder, sending him sprawling. Cole collides with Marsden, whose gun falls to the ground, and Ducky makes a beeline for it, nearly over­running the weapon, fumbling it, and kicking it ahead of him as he stumbles, bent over. Even Dad tries to get in on the fisticuffs, grappling with Cole and Marsden, but one well-placed kick into his bad knee, and he crumples to the floor in agony. Marsden turns over and rolls Cole into a choke hold. Cole's face turns purple, the veins throbbing in his throat and forehead.

“I expected a little better after our first sparring match,” Marsden tells him.

“Stop it!” I cry. I'm cradling Chloe's head in my lap on the ground, tears streaming down my face. “You're killing him!”

“That is the general idea,” Marsden says.

“Let him go. Now.”

Marsden turns to see Ducky training his own gun on him. Ducky's sweating and trembling. I want to tell Duck to step back, that he's too close to Marsden, but before I can open my mouth, the doctor reaches out and snatches the gun right from Ducky's hands. He flings Cole to the floor, where he gasps desperately for air, unable to move.

Marsden grins at me as he trains the gun on Ducky. “Perhaps I'll let you watch me kill everyone you love before I get to you,” he says. “How would you like that, Elvie?”

“Please,” I whimper. “No.”

Dad has crawled over to me and is wrapping me and Chloe in a protective embrace. Ducky looks at me wistfully and smiles.

“Elvie . . . ,” Dad whispers. “Listen.”

That's when I hear the humming sound. Marsden hears it too—a split second too late. Ducky drops and covers his face just as the blaster explodes in the doctor's hand, flinging him across the room, where he crashes into a bloody heap on the floor. The blast knocks Ducky in the opposite direction and throws me and Dad back on the floor as well. The ceiling is spinning above me, until I focus in on the red hologram staring down at me.

“Are you badly injured?”
Merv asks, blinking.

“I don't think so,” I say.

“Good. I just wanted to inform you that shielding will fail in approximately ninety seconds. It's been nice getting to know you.”

“Don't write me off just yet, Merv,” I say, rising unsteadily from the ground. “Show me that manual interface again.”

“Did you see that?” Ducky asks a little too loudly. His ears are probably ringing even more than mine are. “Elvie, did you see what I did? I did it! I totally did it.” He tries to stand up too quickly, and winces, holding his shoulder.

“I saw, Ducky,” I say without looking away from the display. “Great job.”

“I overloaded the pistol, just like Chloe did before.” He's still beaming with excitement. “I tricked him into grabbing the gun, and then it blew up right in his hand!”

“Like I said, I saw. Cole, make sure Chloe is okay.”

“I hope that guy stays dead this time,” Cole mutters. His voice is hoarse, and he rubs his throat as he makes his way over to Chloe. As if in answer, a moan emanates from Marsden's slumped mass, and the doctor shifts slightly on the ground.

“Oh, come
on
!” Cole says. “Are you kidding me?”

Merv considers Marsden.
“This one is badly damaged. Disintegrated limb. Ruptured internal organs. Heavy blood loss. He will be deceased in moments.”

“Good,” Ducky says, but then he stops himself. “I mean, not ‘good,' but . . . I never killed anyone before.” He looks at me. “I don't think I like it, Elvie.”

“How . . . do you think . . . I feel?” Marsden manages to flip himself over, and the sight of him is enough to make me sick. The left side of his face looks
melted
, and his left arm has been blown off past the elbow. His stomach is a mass of leaking organs, and his shirt is so slick with blood that I can't even remember what color it was originally. Upon looking at the doctor, Ducky immediately barfs on the ground.

“Done in . . . by a human,” Marsden croaks.

“Just die already,” I say. “I'm so done with you.”

“He really does seem like quite the anal orifice,”
Merv remarks.

So I guess there's a little tweaking needed in the AI's colorful metaphor subroutine.

“Elvie.” Dad puts his hands on mine, halting my typing. “Stop, dearheart. It's over.”

“I really wish I had time to debate this with you guys, but I don't. You're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing.” I put the last touches on the info packet. “Merv, prepare to upload the packet.”

“While I am impressed that you have managed to override the considerable safeguards in my programming in such a short amount of time, I still must protest this course of action.”

“Listen to the ancient artificial intelligence, dearheart.”

“I just need a few more seconds,” I say through gritted teeth.

There is a sudden blast from outside. The lights momentarily flutter, and red dust falls from the ceiling. The unmistakable sound of blaster fire can be heard, each shot sending another shudder through the room.

“Shielding has failed,”
Merv states.
“The door will hold a few seconds only. You have my sympathies, truly.”

“Elvie, enough!” Byron grabs me and pulls me away from the keyboard. “Look at what we've learned here today. My species believed that they were a benevolent, enlightened people who bestowed their goodness on mankind. Our forefathers buried the truth about how we really came to live as we do, and that arrogance has lead to our undoing. Let the cycle of madness end here. Do not sentence another people to our fate.”

“You're forgetting that the martians pushed the Almiri off onto Earth in the first place. They didn't have a problem making their problems our problems. So it's not just you who's getting boned here.” I struggle against his grip, but he's too strong.

“They did so in an effort to change us for the better. They were motivated by something greater than mere self-­preservation. They had a plan. You can't do something as reckless as this without thinking it through! You don't have a plan.”

I stop struggling and look Byron dead in the eye.

“I'm Elvie Nara. I
always
have a plan.” I turn to Merv, who is watching our struggle with detached curiosity. “Merv, send the info packet.”

“Don't do it!” Byron shouts.

“I am sorry,”
Merv says,
“but she has overwritten my programming.”

Merv's eyes spin in his head.

“The packet has been delivered.”

Suddenly an enormous blast shakes the entire room, and the door crumbles away in shards of red ore. An entire squadron of decked-out Devastators bursts through, weapons at the ready. They train their weapons on us and bark indecipherable commands at us in their own language. They seem slightly confused by the pile of Brittas lying, unconscious, on the ground, not to mention the pile of Marsden.

“We surrender!” Ducky cries, hands in the air.

I simply grasp my father's hand and squeeze. “We were so close,” I say.

“I love you, dearheart,” Dad replies.

I feel someone take my other hand. I look down. It's Chloe. She smiles at me and shrugs, and I can't help but laugh. It seems to confuse the lead Devastator. He charges toward me and picks me straight up off the ground with one monster claw, despite the protests from my friends. The Devastator barks something at me, its long dagger right in my face.

“Excuse me?”
Merv says. The Devastator turns and glares at him.
“I have an incoming message from the alien fleet.”

Suddenly Merv's image disappears, and in its place stands a tall, imposing Devastator wearing some sort of cape. The death squad immediately stands at attention. The image barks at them for a few seconds, and the lead Devastator responds, his tone confused-sounding (well, as confused-sounding as mangled spoons in the garbage disposal can get). The answer he receives sounds incredibly angry, even by Devastator standards. Then the image blurs once more and Merv reappears.

“The transmission has ended.”

The Devastator with the kung fu grip on my throat looks at me and narrows his yellow eyes. His jointed teeth ripple in a cascade from one side of his mouth to the other, a sort of disdainful Jin'Kai sneer, I suppose. I feel his putrid breath on my face and prepare myself for the worst. Then, without warning, the gnarly creep drops me roughly to the ground. He barks a command to the others, and to my great shock, they all turn and head out of the room.

“What are they doing?” Dad asks. “Is that it?”

“The package was received and acknowledged. The intruders have received orders to fall back immediately.”

“Then it's done,” Byron says glumly.

“That's it? The invasion is over?” Ducky asks. “We won?”

“No . . . you . . . can't . . .
leave
me,” Marsden gurgles from the floor. “It's a trick. . . . Don't . . . a trick . . .”

Most of the Devastators head out of the room without acknowledging Marsden in any way, but as their leader pulls up the rear, he turns and spits a nasty alien loogie right on the expiring villain. With that, the last of the baddies disappear through the hole in the door. All that's left of our would-be executioners is the sound of their footsteps plodding toward the surface.

Merv's eyes spin in his head.
“It appears that the encroaching fleet has broken off their attack on Earth and is falling back. The ‘Devastators,' as you call them, are preparing for immediate departure to the coordinates contained within the data packet.”

“I don't even know what to say,” Ducky says, shaking his head. “But didn't that feel . . .
extremely
too easy?”

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