Outer Bounds: Fortune's Rising (36 page)

Magali nodded.

“So you want me to do it or you?”

She blinked up at him through
tears.  “Do what?”

The old man gestured at the
eggers.  “Kill them.  Which of us is gonna kill them?”

Her mouth fell open and she
couldn’t speak.

“Listen,” the old man said, his
eyes still filled with kindness, “I fought the Coalition on Redrock as a kid. 
I saw the things they did to prisoners.  Back then, it was bad.  Now…”  He
shook his head and his eyes flickered toward the entrance.  “Last forty years,
Nephyrs have got a lot nastier.  A
lot
nastier.  A lot of guys my age
have seen it.  They were cruel sons of bitches when I was a kid.  Now, it’s
like they made torture a culture of their own.  Almost like they stopped being
human.  Started with the Yolk.  They just went…bad.”

“You want me to
kill
them?” Magali whispered.

“One of us should,” the old man
said.  He crouched beside her, his eyes on the eggers.  “You don’t wanna do it,
I will.  We certainly won’t be doing them any favors leaving them alive.  Not
after what we did today.” 

“I did most of it,” Magali said,
squeezing her eyes shut against tears.

“True,” the old man said, “But
the rest of us didn’t stop you.  That’ll be just as damning, in their eyes.”

Magali’s desperation grew as she
looked out over the huddled mass of crying eggers.  Whimpers and broken sobs
were penetrating the constant howl of the wind outside.  “How?” she whispered.

“Drive ‘em off the cliff,” the
old guy said.

Killer,
Wideman giggled.

Oh God.
  Magali imagined
them teetering on the edge, imagined the long, horrible drop to the bottom of
the Snake, imagined them emptying their lungs in a scream again and again
before they hit the jagged rocks below…  Magali squeezed her eyes shut, her terror
of heights becoming a raw and burning ball in her throat.  “I can’t.”  She
listened to the wind howling upon the entrance of the cliff and took a
shuddering breath.  “That’s too horrible.  I can’t.”

The old man lifted his rifle from
the cavern floor and stood.  “I’ll do it, then.”  He turned toward the eggers.

“No,” Magali said, getting to her
feet.  “We’re not killing them.  No.”

The old man’s face darkened in a
frown.  “Believe me, girl, if that starlope-skinning prick was right and your
smuggler buddy isn’t coming back, then the only humane thing for us to do is
going to be give these folk a merciful end before the Nephyrs get to them. 
Really.  We leave them alive and they’re going to suffer.” 

What have I done?
  “I
can’t kill them,” Magali whispered.

He put a gentle, arthritic hand
on her shoulder.  “This ain’t a time to let your heart rule, girl.  I speak
from experience.  These people are better off dead.”

“
Stop talking about them like
they’re cattle!
” Magali screamed, throwing off his grip.  She was shaking
all over, now.  She was finding it hard to think.  Then, taking a deep breath,
she said, “No.  We’ll strike a deal with the Nephyrs.  I’ll give myself up if
they promise they won’t hurt anyone else.”

The old man threw back his head
and laughed.  “I can tell you ain’t never been in a war before, Landborn. 
‘Cause that was one of the stupidest things I ever heard.”  There was an
underlying anger in his expression, now.  “That’s like punching a Shrieker in
the face and asking it not to Shriek.  It’s gonna Shriek whether you want it to
or not—just like Nephyrs are gonna kill these folks whether you want them to or
not.”  When he saw she wasn’t in agreement, he lowered his voice and said, “You
should at least give them a choice, girl.  Let them make their own decision, if
you’re too soft-hearted to do it for them.”

“No,” Magali gritted.  She turned
away from him in disgust.

With a sadness in his words, the
old man said, “Suit yourself, girl.”  She heard him raise his gun.

Magali pivoted and slammed her
heel into the old man’s gut.  His gun, which had been pointed at her chest,
fell away as he tried to catch himself.  As he was falling, she brought the
pistol up, her finger hovering on the trigger.  Every ounce of her wanted to
pull the trigger.

I’m not a killer,
part of
her whimpered.  Yet she had killed fifteen men and women in the last ten
hours.  She had wounded two others, only to have her companions make the
killing blows.  It had been so easy, so natural… 

Anger and humiliation boiled in
the man’s face as he looked up at her gun.  “I was just gonna do you a favor,
love.  You wanna deal with this mess yourself?  Fine.  Then deal with it.  I am
not hanging around for the Nephyrs.”  He brought the barrel of his gun to his
chin.

“Drop it!” Magali screamed.

Completely oblivious to the
pistol shuddering between them, the man said, “If you know what’s good for you,
Landborn, you will do the right thing for these people.”

She saw his fingers tighten on
his weapon, saw him close his eyes.

Magali shot him.

As the man’s eyes were widening,
the gun fell to the side, his fingers with it.  His wide blue eyes moved from
her face, slowly, to his hand.  The first three fingers on his hand ending in
bloody stumps. 

“You shot my
hand!
” he
screamed at her.

Magali kicked the rifle aside. 
“You can get someone to fix it later, after I make a deal and turn myself in.”

His voice thick with disdain, he
said, “You’re a fool.”  He got up and started walking toward the cliff.

“I can shoot off ankles just as
easily,” Magali warned.  When the old man just turned and stared at her, she
said, “It’ll turn out okay.  You’ll see.”  It was more a plea than a promise.

“It’s my
choice,
” the man
snarled.  “And I choose to die.”

“I’m not a killer,” Magali said. 

“The Hell you ain’t!” the man
snapped.  “You’re as sadistic as your goddamn sister.”

That hit her like a fist to the
gut. 
As sadistic as Anna?
  Then, staring down the barrel of the gun at
the man whose hand she had just maimed, a small voice asked,
…am I?

What if it was genetic?  What if
she really was like Anna, and had been all along?  They were sisters, after
all…

You’re just a killer, Magali,
Wideman cackled at her shoulder. 
Face it.

No!
  Magali pounded his
words from her skull. 
No I’m not.

The old man’s eyes darkened
horribly as he watched her.  “And just as crazy, too.”

Magali lowered her fist from her
forehead and her eyes narrowed.  She pointed at the group of eggers with her
gun.  “Get over there with the others.”

“You’re gonna rot in Hell for
this,” the old man snarled.  He slumped to the ground near the eggers.  He made
no move to bind his wounded hand.

“Magali?” Benny whispered,
sidling up behind her.  “Why did you just shoot Lars in the hand?”

“It’s nothing,” Magali said.  She
lowered her gun, feeling suddenly ancient.  She looked at the young boy and,
seeing the confusion in his blue eyes, found herself saying, “Benny, if you had
the choice between falling and hitting your head really hard or having Nephyrs
kill you, what would you choose?”

Benny got wide-eyed.  He whispered,
“The Nephyrs are going to kill me?”

“No,” Magali said.  “But what
would you choose?”

“I’m scared of Nephyrs,” Benny
said.

From the darkness in the tunnel,
someone laughed.  “As you should be, little one.”

Colonel Steele casually strode
from the darkness, flanked by a dozen of his fellows.  He stopped at the
entrance to the cavern and his Nephyrs spread out in both directions.  They
glittered gold in the dawn light filtering across the Snake. 

Benny screamed.

“Sounds like he’d choose the
cliff,” Colonel Steele said, still smiling.  Then the Nephyr cocked his head at
Magali.  “That
was
the choice you were giving him, wasn’t it?  The cliff
or the Nephyrs?”

Magali swallowed, careful to keep
the gun at her side.  She could kill one, maybe even two, but she couldn’t kill
them all. 

Colonel Steele seemed to read her
mind, because he smiled.

“So,” Colonel Steele said,
stepping forward, “I couldn’t help but overhear you wanted to make us a deal.” 
He cocked his head as he moved around her.  “You’re quite the shot, if the
lifelines piled at the bottom of this cliff are any judge.  Are you the one
that killed my men?”  He spoke almost as if they were old friends chatting over
steaming cups of
fora
juice.

Shaking, Magali nodded.  Her
whole body was cramping with terror, but she fought her instincts and said, “I
did it.  I want to trade myself for their safety.”  She nodded with her chin at
the eggers.

The tall Nephyr continued to walk
around her, forcing her to turn to keep him in sight.  Colonel Steele seemed to
be considering that as he looked at her body.  “Any caveats?”

“You do whatever you want to me,
but you don’t hurt them,” Magali said.  “They didn’t do anything.”

Behind her, the old man lunged to
his feet and sprinted for the cliff edge, but a Nephyr caught him and dragged
him back before he even made it halfway.  The woman casually threw him into the
huddled group of eggers, then went to stand between them and the exit. 
Magali’s chest clamped in terror at the cyborg’s speed.  Standing as close as
he was, Magali realized she wouldn’t even have a chance to twitch her arm
before Colonel Steele had her by the throat.  Shaking, she looked down at her
gun.

“And we can do
anything
we
want to you?” the Nephyr asked.  “You’re sure?”  Magali didn’t like his smile. 
He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Yes,” Magali whispered.

Colonel Steele stopped circling
and watched her.  For a long moment, Colonel Steele said nothing as he
considered.  Then he said, “Give me your gun.”

“I want you to promise you’re not
going to—”

“We aren’t going to kill any more
eggers,” Colonel Steel snorted.  “Nalle can’t report she lost all her eggers…it
would make the bumbling moron lose face.  We’ll satisfy ourselves with you as
long as you don’t bore us.”  He winked at her.  “So better make it interesting,
eh?”

Magali felt the cold, psychotic
nature of the man’s being all the way down her spine.

Panic almost made her turn and
sprint toward the exit.  Instead, trembling, she handed over the gun.  Huddled
in the group of eggers, Lars began to cry.  When she looked, she saw that one
of the Nephyrs was forcibly bandaging his wounds.

“Now those clothes that obviously
don’t belong to you.”  Colonel Steele was still smiling, but it was wrong,
lifeless.

Magali swallowed, but slowly
started to peel off Martin’s bloodstained pants.

The Nephyr’s eyes were fixed on
the cluster of holes over her stomach.  “That was the man’s heart, wasn’t it.” 
It wasn’t a question.

Magali nodded.

“Interesting.  Where did you
learn to shoot like that?”

“It was close range,” Magali
whispered, carefully setting the pants aside.  The cold air from outside now
hit the exposed flesh of her legs and she felt suddenly a hundred times more
vulnerable than before.  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “Anyone can make that
shot at close range.”

“With this pistol?”  The Nephyr
snorted.  “I don’t think so.”  He gestured at her torso with it.  “Now the top,
please.”  He sounded almost friendly, like a doctor who had just asked her to
flex her knee.  It was his leer of anticipation, however, that spoke the truth.

Just like Anna,
she
realized, in horror.  Magali suddenly found her fingers unable to grab the hem
of Martin’s shirt, her arms unable to pull it over her head. 

“I would be happy to assist you,
if you need the help.”  The Nephyr was still smiling, though he wasn’t looking
at her.  He was inspecting the gun, wiping dirt and Shrieker slime from the
crevices with the cuff-edge of his uniform.

Trembling, Magali pulled the
shirt over her head and dropped it to the ground.

Colonel Steele finished his
inspection of the pistol, then cocked his head at her.  Seeing her cross her
arms over her breasts, he smiled.  Then he bent and retrieved the shirt on the
ground.  Holding it up, he said, “Whose shirt is this?”

“He said his name was Martin,”
Magali whispered.

Colonel Steele’s hairless
eyebrows went up.  “You had a chance to talk to him before you killed him?  My,
aren’t you the happy little murderess.”

Shame ate wormy holes in her
stomach.

Colonel Steele stuck his fingers
through the singed holes of the shirt, examining it as the other Nephyrs stood
back, waiting.  The silence seemed ominous.

“What are you going to do to me?”
Magali whispered.

Colonel Steele flipped Martin’s
shirt inside-out and read the tag.  He whistled.  Then he held it up again.  “Martin
was a big boy.  I don’t believe Nalle has any guards of that size on her
rolls.  He was a smuggler?”

Magali nodded.

Colonel Steele glanced over at
her, curiosity in his sky-blue eyes.  “And where is his ship?”

“Runaway Joel took it,” Magali
said.

Colonel Steele laughed.  “I
see.”  He neatly folded Martin’s shirt and stuffed it under one arm.  Amicably,
he said, “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you, Magali?”

Oh no,
she thought.

Colonel Steele’s gaze flickered
to her face and he examined her expression before he casually went on, “Because
I’ve been monitoring your heart-rate awhile, now, and every time you glance at
the cliff edge, it spikes.  Would it scare you to go over the cliff, Magali?”

A shot of terror hit her core
before Magali was able to suppress it.  “No,” she forced herself to say.

Colonel Steele grinned at her. 
“Your heart-rate just doubled.  Is it a phobia?”