Instead Skyler kept running, straight back the way he’d come, pumping his legs as hard as he could. He stuffed the radio into his pocket and flicked off the flashlight on his gun as he went.
When he passed the tent where he’d spoken to a colonist, the man was emerging from the flap, brandishing a folded umbrella.
“Not yet,” Skyler said as he raced by. The colonist, an older man, ducked back inside as more gunshots rang out. Skyler crouched and altered his angle twice more before finally reaching the sloped bank. He leapt into the tributary at a narrow point, hoisting his weapon above his head, landing in knee-high water with a huge splash.
Out the other side, he turned and knelt. When the first invader’s head appeared above the sloped bank, Skyler fired, killing the person instantly.
He spun and ran up the far bank, diving over the top and rolling in the tall grass beyond as more bullets traced paths through the vegetation around him.
In any other scenario he would have fired wildly in return, hoping to send the enemies diving for cover. But with the colony as a backdrop, the risk was too great. Instead heflipped the holo-sight on and took aim at the closest invader. Skyler squeezed the trigger and sent the person sprawling, clutching their leg.
The others took cover as their second comrade hit the ground.
Satisfied, Skyler began to crawl through the meter-high grass. He went east, or so he hoped, moving to a bent-over run as soon as he thought it safe to do so. Twice he tripped in the darkness. On the second fall his head smacked into a rock buried in the deep grass, cutting his forehead. He bit back a groan and ran on as blood began to trickle from the wound.
The immunes chased him through grass fields and rainforest for an hour before Skyler happened upon a flimsy boathouse.
Double images blurred before his eyes. He swayed on his feet and needed every ounce of concentration to keep his legs under him. Throwing caution to the wind, he kicked his way into the feeble structure and turned his flashlight on again, finding the single room empty. A concrete channel full of black water held a tiny, two-man fiberglass boat, tied down with a single nylon rope.
The water went out through the wide-open fourth wall, ten meters out through a mangrove cathedral to the swift Guamá. Whatever smugglers used this place in the past hid it well from above.
Blood still trickling from his forehead, Skyler lumbered forward and stepped into the boat, his foot splashing in stagnant water that had pooled in the hull. He ignored the foul smell and lay down on his back. After three tries to grab the yellow rope, which swam and blurred in front of him, he finally found it and undid the simple knot. Fighting the searing pain in his skull, he reached over the side of the boat and probed with his hand until he found concrete. Using just his fingertips, he pushed with all the strength he had left. After what felt like an eternity, he cracked his eyes open enough to see the roof of the hidden boathouse pass above him, giving way to tangled mangroves and dark sky beyond. The pain soon became unbearable and he let his eyes close.
Voices nearby. Shouting. The door of the feeble shack being kicked in again. Brittle wood shattering this time. Skyler lay still, aware his pursuers argued at the water’s edge, their words a meaningless jumble. They had not fired at him, not with intent to hit him, since leaving the auras behind. The thought flickered in a corner of his mind, then danced away, intangible.
Adrift, skull throbbing, Skyler felt rather than saw the transition into the swift and churning waters of the wide river. As the light of dawn began to touch the sky above, he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Darwin, Australia
1.MAY.2283
V AUGHN SHIFTED IN his sleep. He rolled away, his moist skin separating from hers in a sound that made her think of peeling a banana.
One sweaty arm still draped across Samantha’s stomach. She lay on her
When he passed the tent where he’d spoken to a colonist, the man was emerging from the flap, brandishing a folded umbrella.
“Not yet,” Skyler said as he raced by. The colonist, an older man, ducked back inside as more gunshots rang out. Skyler crouched and altered his angle twice more before finally reaching the sloped bank. He leapt into the tributary at a narrow point, hoisting his weapon above his head, landing in knee-high water with a huge splash.
Out the other side, he turned and knelt. When the first invader’s head appeared above the sloped bank, Skyler fired, killing the person instantly.
He spun and ran up the far bank, diving over the top and rolling in the tall grass beyond as more bullets traced paths through the vegetation around him.
In any other scenario he would have fired wildly in return, hoping to send the enemies diving for cover. But with the colony as a backdrop, the risk was too great. Instead heflipped the holo-sight on and took aim at the closest invader. Skyler squeezed the trigger and sent the person sprawling, clutching their leg.
The others took cover as their second comrade hit the ground.
Satisfied, Skyler began to crawl through the meter-high grass. He went east, or so he hoped, moving to a bent-over run as soon as he thought it safe to do so. Twice he tripped in the darkness. On the second fall his head smacked into a rock buried in the deep grass, cutting his forehead. He bit back a groan and ran on as blood began to trickle from the wound.
The immunes chased him through grass fields and rainforest for an hour before Skyler happened upon a flimsy boathouse.
Double images blurred before his eyes. He swayed on his feet and needed every ounce of concentration to keep his legs under him. Throwing caution to the wind, he kicked his way into the feeble structure and turned his flashlight on again, finding the single room empty. A concrete channel full of black water held a tiny, two-man fiberglass boat, tied down with a single nylon rope.
The water went out through the wide-open fourth wall, ten meters out through a mangrove cathedral to the swift Guamá. Whatever smugglers used this place in the past hid it well from above.
Blood still trickling from his forehead, Skyler lumbered forward and stepped into the boat, his foot splashing in stagnant water that had pooled in the hull. He ignored the foul smell and lay down on his back. After three tries to grab the yellow rope, which swam and blurred in front of him, he finally found it and undid the simple knot. Fighting the searing pain in his skull, he reached over the side of the boat and probed with his hand until he found concrete. Using just his fingertips, he pushed with all the strength he had left. After what felt like an eternity, he cracked his eyes open enough to see the roof of the hidden boathouse pass above him, giving way to tangled mangroves and dark sky beyond. The pain soon became unbearable and he let his eyes close.
Voices nearby. Shouting. The door of the feeble shack being kicked in again. Brittle wood shattering this time. Skyler lay still, aware his pursuers argued at the water’s edge, their words a meaningless jumble. They had not fired at him, not with intent to hit him, since leaving the auras behind. The thought flickered in a corner of his mind, then danced away, intangible.
Adrift, skull throbbing, Skyler felt rather than saw the transition into the swift and churning waters of the wide river. As the light of dawn began to touch the sky above, he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Darwin, Australia
1.MAY.2283
V AUGHN SHIFTED IN his sleep. He rolled away, his moist skin separating from hers in a sound that made her think of peeling a banana.
One sweaty arm still draped across Samantha’s stomach. She lay on her
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