Burden of Sisyphus (43 page)

           
Behind Keryn, Sasha moaned softly, as her left leg seized from a well-placed strike.
 
Keryn’s celebration was cut short, though, when she felt tightness in her knife arm.
 
Her suit constricted across her bicep.
 
Rolling pain washed over her elbow and forearm before finally paralyzing her hand.
 
Her arm disabled, the limb was squeezed tightly against her side.

           
“You aren’t good enough to beat me, Savage!”
 
Sasha masked the pain in her stiff leg.

           
Keryn turned toward her, her sore arm quickly going numb from lack of blood.
 
Already, Sasha came at her.
 
Snarling, Keryn turned and fled with Sasha in pursuit.
 
Barrel rolling to one side, Keryn narrowly dodged red laser fire.
 
Unrelenting, Sasha fired volley after volley, each barely missing Keryn, as she used fellow cadets as shields and obstacles.
 
Keryn felt frustration building in her chest, as she fled.

           
Not yet,
the Voice whispered.
 
Give it a second longer.

           
For once, she was glad for at least one reassuring voice amid the sea of cynics.
 
Behind her, she heard a break in the laser attacks, as Sasha adjusted for a better shot.

           
She didn't need the Voice to tell her it was time.
 
Tucking her good arm to her side, she tipped her body and dropped into a steep dive.
 
As she cut fluidly through the air, Keryn opened a sizeable lead on Sasha before the Avalon realized what happened.

           
Tucking her wings to her sides, she dropped from the sky, following Keryn toward the quickly rising net.
 
More adept at flight, the Avalon sliced easily through the air and gained on Keryn.

           
At the last moment, Keryn arched her back and pulled her body upward, barely avoiding the grasping web.
 
Still above her, Sasha had more reaction time, as Keryn shot past her in a steady climb.
 
Extending her wings, Sasha halted her momentum and launched herself skyward to chase the Wyndgaart.

           
“Did you honestly think it would be that easy, Savage?” Sasha shouted, her words stolen by the wind rushing past her face.
 
“Did you think an Avalon would be stupid enough to be caught in the web?
 
Give it up, Savage!
 
You’ll never beat me!”

           
Keryn’s ears popped from the rapid climb.
 
Though seemingly far away, she heard Sasha’s mocking calls.
 
Desire for revenge burned strongly in her chest, threatening to consume.

           
Confident she was high enough, Keryn smiled softly and whispered, “You haven’t seen me be savage yet.”

           
Cutting off her pack in midflight, momentum carried her upward a few more feet before gravity took hold.
 
Arching in the air, she flipped at the pinnacle of her climb before plummeting right toward the unsuspecting Avalon.

           
Still rising, Sasha had no time to react, as Keryn dropped toward her like a stone.
 
They slammed into each other in midair.
 
Keryn drove a knee into Sasha’s shoulder, twisting her wing and dislocating it from her shoulder blade.
 
Screaming in pain, Sasha tried to twist free, but Keryn used her paralyzed arm to lock herself around the Avalon.

           
With Sasha’s wing collapsed, her frail body couldn't support both their weight, even with her jetpack.
 
Together, they tumbled toward the quickly rising lake.

           
Snaking her good arm free from Sasha’s squirming limbs and wings, Keryn planted her pistol barrel firmly against Sasha’s back.
 
Pulling her close, she braced her feet against Sasha’s hip and whispered in her ear, “I’ll take savagery over thinly veiled civility any day.”
 
She squeezed the trigger.

           
Sasha shook violently, as her suit tightened around her.
 
Unhooking her paralyzed arm from Sasha’s chest, Keryn kicked off with both legs, activated her jetpack, and broke free of their embrace.
 
Hovering in midair, she watched with deep satisfaction, as she sent the Avalon spinning end over end into the net.

           
Elated, Keryn flew back to rejoin Iana and revel in her personal victory.

           
Keryn floated on her back in the water, letting the buoyant suit keep her afloat, as she stared up at the bright, early afternoon sky.
 
Clouds danced overhead, caught in the cool breeze blowing down from the mountains.
 
Even the cold water was comforting, as she lay in the lake, each lapping wave carrying a sense of contentment.

           
She and Iana hadn’t finished first.
 
It hadn’t taken much time after Keryn eliminated Sasha for others to realize what the pair did and form their own teams.
 
Keryn and Iana were eliminated from the last twenty cadets, but even elimination couldn’t steal her happiness.

           
In the air, she found two things she thought she lost—purpose and confidence.
 
She knew without any doubt that coming to the Academy was the right decision.
 
Her fears and concerns were gone.
 
She convinced even her naysayers and heard words of encouragement from the Voice for the first time since refusing Initiation.
 
In the end, she realized the Voice truly wanted her to succeed at whatever she did.

           
More important to her was the confidence she felt.
 
It took nearly twelve cadets working together to eliminate her and Iana.
 
Once, she would’ve felt pity, as if the larger group picked on them for being different.
 
She knew now that so many cadets attacked, because they respected her and her abilities.

           
Keryn changed her fate.
 
Tomorrow, she would improve upon her performance, until eventually, she took her rightful place at the top of her class.

           
Rolling over to swim toward shore, she was unable to shake her broad smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

           
The escape from the planet held none of the joy one would expect from the survivors.
 
Within the
Cair Ilmun,
the four remaining members of the Alliance strike force sat in sullen silence, the quiet a divisive mockery of the deep silence of space beyond the hull.

           
Vance sat a few seats down from Decker and across from a young Uligart whose name he didn’t know.
 
Civility required that he learn the soldier’s name after sharing so many hardships together, but Vance didn’t have the heart to strike up a conversation, nor the inclination to act civil with so much weighing on his heart.
 
The mantle of leadership was a heavy burden, and it grew heavier knowing so many died under his leadership.
 
Military law dictated that be held responsible in an inquiry to determine how much fault was his.

           
In a lot of ways, he welcomed the inquiry.
 
The other survivors refused to voice what Vance wanted to hear.
 
He longed for someone else to validate his misery and tell him it was his fault.

           
“Buren.”
 
Decker’s voice broke the silence in the crew compartment.

           
The Uligart looked up with eyes that refused to focus.
 
His haunted look stared far beyond Decker’s face.

           
“How are you holding up?”

           
Buren shook his head softly before his flaccid expression returned, and his gaze returned to his feet.

           
Adam climbed from his chair, unlacing his protective webbing, and slid closer to Vance.
 
“What about you, Sir?
 
How are you doing?”

           
“Miserable.”
 
Vance sighed.
 
“I can’t believe we’re all that’s left.”

           
“At least we survived.
 
We stand a chance to warn others about what happened on the planet.
 
We can get revenge for this.”

           
Vance shook his head.
 
“Maybe you can, but not me.
 
Even if we make it out of here, I’m done.”
 
Tears stung his eyes.
 
“I’m not fighting anymore.
 
I don’t have the energy.”

           
They sat in silence.
 
Decker seemed uncomfortable, as if he couldn’t find the right words of consolation.
 
Vance guessed he’d never been comfortable with emotion.
 
A crying woman probably startled the young Pilgrim.
 
He could only imagine his inner turmoil in trying to console an emotional man.
 
Vance needed to control himself.

           
Yen emerged from the cockpit.
 
“I hate to interrupt, but I need you in the front of the ship.”

           
Vance roughly wiped away tears with the back of his hand, angry at himself for showing weakness to the troops.
 
“What’s the problem?”

           
“We’re being hailed,” Yen said nervously.

           
“By whom?”
 
Vance unlatched his harness.

           
Following Yen to the cockpit, Vance felt Decker squeeze his bulk into the cockpit with them.
 
The transmission ended, as they entered, only to blare again a few moments later.

           
“Unidentified ship, this is the
Goliath.
 
Please identify yourself.”

           
Yen and Decker blanched at the stern voice.
 
Both turned to Vance, seeking advice.

           
“Turn on the radar,” Vance ordered.

           
As the screen flickered, the bulky form of
Goliath
loomed, drifting in orbit around one of the distant planets.

           
“They waited for us,” Yen said angrily.
 
“They couldn’t just have left the galaxy, could they?
 
No!
 
They had to stay behind, just in case.
 
Those bastards!”

           
“Calm yourself, Yen.”
 
Vance’s formerly stoic exterior hid his tumultuous emotions.

           
“Unidentified ship, this is the
Goliath.
 
Identify yourself, or you’ll be destroyed.”

           
“What should we do, Sir?” Decker asked.

           
“We don’t have much choice.
 
Yen, open a channel.”
 
Grabbing a mike, Vance said, “
Goliath,
this is Magistrate Vance of the
Cair Ilmun.
 
Please hold your fire.”

           
Silence stretched for a few seconds, then a sickly sweet voice spoke.
 
“Michael, it’s good to hear you’re still alive.
 
I’d be lying if I said this was anything other than a huge surprise.”
 
Behind the sweet voice, Vance detected frustrated undertones.