The cannon roared like a beast, creating a brilliant beam of particulate matter. It was like a perfectly straight line of lightning. The heat came up in a rush into my face—I wasn’t wearing goggles or asbestos—nothing.

  The beam flashed into the Techborn lines and ignited the first walker it touched. Man and machine were melted together and blasted apart all at once.

  After letting up on the trigger for a few seconds and letting the heat warning drop from red to orange, I slid the beam to the left. This time, I purposefully struck a boulder.

  The beam hit dead center, exploding in a hail of sand and shrapnel. Walkers all around it went down, their legs blown out from under them. Techborn soldiers were thrown like ragdolls. Their armor was no match for the cannon’s fury.

  Sweeping the beam over the front line, I broke up the charging wave of mounted men. No sane man could charge into that kind of destruction.

  A ragged cheer went up from the walls. The kid gaped at me, his mouth hanging open. I allowed myself a tight smile.

  “That’s how it’s done, kid. Now reload!”

  He squatted and worked the breach, careful to pour only a partial charge into the magazine.

  Soon, the sand cannon roared to life again. It spit a stream of hyper-accelerated particles at the advancing Techborn line—the cavalry had dismounted, and the infantry had advanced to join them.

  They fared no better. The grains of sand became lethal projectiles, slashing through armor like it was paper. I held the trigger down, sweeping the beam back and forth. Techborn soldiers fell, cut to ribbons by the invisible scythe of death.

  I gritted my teeth, ignoring the numbness in my hands from the cannon’s vibration. This was what I was born for. The thrill of battle sang in my veins, drowning out everything else. I was a weapon, honed to a razor’s edge.

  The Techborn attack faltered, then broke. They scrambled for cover, leaving their dead and dying behind. I allowed myself a grim smile. We’d bought ourselves some breathing room, but the reprieve was short-lived.

  A high-pitched whine filled the air, growing louder by the second. I looked up, squinting against the sun. Drones—dozens of them—buzzing towards us like angry hornets. Behind them was, a swarm of missiles, their contrails stitching the sky.

  I swore, diving out of the turret and crawling away—but too slowly. A missile streaked past, slamming into the wall a few feet from me. The explosion knocked me off my feet, showering me with debris. My ears rang, and my vision blurred.

  Then I shook my head, trying to clear it. My eyes worked again. The sand cannon turret was a wreck. It lay on its side, belching smoke.

  One of the drones swooped low, its guns chattering. I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets.

  There wasn’t any time to think—or even to look for the kid. I leapt to my feet, sprinting away from the ruined cannon. There was no sense in dying for a smoking wreck.

  Another missile struck. This time, the shockwave slammed into my back like a giant fist. I stumbled, nearly falling. Behind me, the sand cannon had now vanished in a fireball.

  The glare of the fireball lit up the rocky slopes. That’s when I saw the kid lying nearby. He wasn’t moving, and he had a few pieces missing. It didn’t look good.

  I kept running, zigzagging to throw off the drones’ aim. My lungs coughed up smoke and grit.

  When I got down off the rocks and out of the line of fire, I thought of Megan. It bugged me that I’d yet to see her during this battle—could she be a burnt body on the rocks somewhere? It was possible, but I didn’t want to think about that.

  Instead, I considered the good news. The Techborn had thought they’d beaten us, but they’d just eaten a big bag of crap. As long as I still drew breath, I would fight.

  Why? I tried not to ask that question too strongly. This wasn’t my war—not entirely, anyway—but this happened sometimes. When you had a job like this on a new world, a man like me was supposed to stay aloof, to think about the mission XCU had assigned me and nothing else.

  But that wasn’t always possible. I’d gotten caught up and chosen sides. Now, I was fighting for Cinder Hollow, for the Dusters, for every innocent life snuffed out by the Techborn’s cruelty.

  Then, just as I was feeling like we had broken the Techborn, they let their true strength be known. There were shapes, up high on the canyon walls all around the town—not Techborn, but Tuskers.

  The hulking brutes were swarming over the hills behind Cinder Hollow. They moved with a speed and agility that belied their size, leaping from rock to rock like oversized grasshoppers. Their knobby, sweaty skins glistened in the sun.

  I swore under my breath. As if we didn’t have enough problems. The Tuskers were the Techborn’s shock troops, engineered for one purpose: to kill—and they were damn good at it.

  One of the beasts leapt from a cliff, sailing through the air with its arms outstretched. It landed in the midst of a group of Dusters, crushing them beneath its bulk. I heard screams, saw blood spray. The Tusker rose, its maw dripping crimson.

  I brought up my rifle, sighting down the barrel. The Tusker was too close to the Dusters. I couldn’t risk the shot. The Dusters killed the monster, but they lost two men in the process.

  Another Tusker landed on the roof of a shack, caving it in. We couldn’t take an attack from two sides at once. We were doomed.

  Scanning the cliffs, I looked for their leader. Tuskers didn’t do anything without being told to by a Techborn.

  A lone figure stood tall atop the hills. It was too far away to make out details, but I figured it had to be a high-level officer of some kind. Yeah… I knew who that had to be.

  There he was, displaying huge balls. He was laughing, I bet. Standing tall and probably cutting a live feed video of himself as his Tuskers wrecked the town and won the day.

  Cold anger washed over me, drowning out everything else. I took a thunderbolt rifle off a dead man and lined up a shot. The world narrowed to a single point, the crosshairs centering on the man’s chest.

  I squeezed the trigger. The rifle bucked against my shoulder, the report echoing off the hills. But the instead of a spray of blood, I saw a flash of blue-white light.

  I couldn’t have missed. There was only one answer. I’d hit a man wearing a personal shield.

  It was Janson up there. It had to be.

  He didn’t like my sniper-shot. It was one thing to be shielded—it was another to take railgun hits and trust your life to your tech gizmo. He was moving fast, darting back behind the rocks. My next shot went wide, kicking up a spray of dirt.

  Janson. Of course, it would be him. Only he would have the balls and the arrogance to stand up there. The Techborn overlord himself, come to oversee the slaughter.

  I swore again, lowering the thunderbolt. I’d missed my chance. Janson was long gone, vanished into the maze of boulders and gullies.

  A roar snapped me back to the present. The Tuskers were still jumping down from the cliff walls into town. Their ranks were swelling with every passing second.

  One fell near the town well, which was close to me. It broke its leg, but got up, grunting and dragging one foot. I shot it in the head and kept walking.

  Looking around, it seemed to me we were going to lose this fight in the end. But there might yet be a way to turn the tide.

  I ran, my boots pounding on the packed earth. The sounds of battle faded behind me when I reached the edge of town. Megan’s walker was tethered there, right where she’d left it. I leapt onto its back, my hands finding the controls. The mechanical beast snorted, sensing my urgency.

  Megan’s shout rang out behind me. That was good—she was still alive. Apparently, she’d seen me steal her walker. I couldn’t make out the words. Didn’t matter.

  I waved over my shoulder at her and turned away, wheeling the walker around at its top speed. I’d set it for performance mode, and I figured I’d leave it there until one of us was destroyed.

  I dug my heels into the walker’s flanks, urging it forward. As I did this, I half-wondered if Megan would put a bolt into my spine—but she didn’t. Last night’s good time had counted for something, I guess.

  Something had busted up the front gates—probably a missile. I crashed into the shattered timbers and let the walker have its head. The claws dug in and scrabbled. Soon, the machine bounded over the wreckage, and I was thumping and racing out into the desert.

  As I left Cinder Hollow behind, I heard jeers followed me. Angry voices called me a coward, a deserter.

  Fuck them. I wasn’t running out. I gritted my teeth and bent low.

  The walker’s strides ate up the distance, carrying me away from the chaos and death. I guided it towards the cliffs, a plan having formed in my mind.

  Janson thought he had us beat. He thought he could crush us like bugs beneath his boot, but I figured I could serve him one more surprise.

  Circling around the town, I raced uphill to get up on the cliffs—the same way Janson must have done with his Tuskers.

  Climbing higher and higher, I soon saw the top of the ridgeline that surrounded the town, protecting it. The cliffs loomed ahead, their jagged peaks jutting into the sky.

  Chapter 34

  The walker’s powerful legs carried me across the rugged terrain, its clawed feet finding purchase on the loose dirt. I scanned the cliffs ahead, searching for any sign of Janson. The bastard couldn’t have gotten far.

  There, a flicker of movement, a flash of black among the rocks. I yanked on the reins, steering the walker towards it. My thunderbolt was in my hands, ready to finish what I’d started.

  Janson came into view, scrambling up a narrow path cut into the cliff face. He was fast, I’d give him that—just not fast enough.

  I urged the walker forward, closing the distance between us. Janson glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he saw me bearing down on him. He redoubled his efforts, practically throwing himself up the path.

  He’d come up here with Tuskers, but he’d arrogantly sent them jumping down into Cinder Hollow. Now, he was alone.

  I could see the Techborn human army in the distance, a sea of black and silver glinting in the sun. Janson was heading right for them, the coward. He thought he could slip away and hide behind his main body of troops.

  Not today.

  Bringing the walker to a halt, I leapt from its back. The thunderbolt was a comforting weight in my hands as I started up the path after Janson.

  He was fast, but I was faster. Anger fueled me, driving me forward. I wanted to end this right now. No more running.

  I caught up to him just as he reached an opening in the ridgeline. He spun to face me, his face transformed into a snarl. His hand darted for his holster. He drew a pistol and fired—but I was ducking. I returned the favor with a bolt from my thunderbolt rifle.

  The air cracked and his shielding flashed. Another hit—stopped again, but the shield wasn’t impervious. It was flickering and orange. If I could overwhelm it, giving it more than it could deflect—damn, I was wishing these rifles had a higher rate of fire.

  Janson slipped behind a boulder himself. He was breathing hard, I could hear it, and I was waiting impatiently for my weapon to cycle up to full power again for another shot.

  “You,” he shouted. “You’re that slave from the ship, aren’t you? Callista’s property?”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” I growled. “I’m my own man—same as you.”

  “Tanner.” He spat my name like a curse. “That’s the name, isn’t it? A poor name for a slave. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

  My thunderbolt’s indicator was finally back into the green. I sighted over the rocks, looking for a shot—but he wasn’t giving me one.

  “Funny,” I said, my finger tightening on the trigger. “I’ve been thinking the same thing about you.”

  Janson laughed. “You think you can take me, Tanner? You’re nothing. Duster’s are inferior. That’s why we kicked you out of the Arabella decades ago. The past—and the future—belongs to the Techborn.”

  “You’re outnumbered and your tech is breaking down,” I told him. “You might be too dumb to predict the future, but I’m not. Soon, you’ll be unable to keep the Dusters down. Right now, you’re wrecking what resources this crappy colony has left. The only thing you’re building is an empire of ashes and bone.”

  Janson was quiet for a second. He stepped out into the open then. That surprised me. His shield—it was back up to full. It looked glassy and complete. Damn.

  He stalked forward with confidence. I knew his game. He could take one shot from my thunderbolt—after that, I couldn’t touch him until it charged up again. In the meantime, he could wade in close with his pistol and nail me. He had a confident smile back on his face. He thought he had me.

  I prepared myself to fire, then charge—but I stopped myself.

  There were silver helmets coming upslope—lots of them. Kade’s men were marching up to back him up—a full company of them. Had he summoned them? Maybe with a radio signal?

  Dammit. I’d fooled around for too long.

  It was my turn to take a chance. I emerged and stepped forward, my rifle lowered. “I’ll make you a deal, Janson,” I roared. “You and me. Single combat. Knives only—and you can keep your shielding up.”

  Janson’s eyes registered surprise. He glanced over his shoulder as his troops advanced. He hesitated. They were all watching and listening closely.

  “You’ve got every advantage,” I said. “Your shield and an army at your back. But… you might be too chicken even then. Sad, to think the Techborn have a coward for a leader. Embarrassing, even—”

  “Shut up, slave! I could have you chopped into pieces now. You’re in my power!”

  I dropped my rifle and spread my hands wide. “That’s right. But I’m calling you out. Will you take the challenge?”

  This was something I’d listened to when I’d been briefed by Dr. Renn. He’d explained Haven-7 still had an honor system of sorts. They were into things like arena combat and duels. That’s why Callista had wanted me to fight in single combat against various opponents in the UnderDeck—to prove my worth to her.

  Janson was the Techborn overlord, but he had his difficulties. Every leader did. It was one thing to have authority on paper, and another to have the respect of your followers. Haven-7 was a rough place. Callista had told me Janson had usurped the leadership role. That meant someone else might do the same if he was proven to be a coward in front of so many troops.

  There were ten at first, but as we talked, a circle was forming. There had to be fifty of them by now—maybe more. No one said a word, but they were listening and listening closely.

  Janson had no choice but to turn and face me.

  “All right, Tanner,” he growled. “You have requested an honorable death. You don’t deserve that—no Duster does. But I will grant it to you. I will show you generosity beyond your worth by killing you with my own hand.”

  He drew a wicked-looking knife from his belt. I hefted my buzzblade in turn. The weight of my weapon was familiar in my hand—Earth steel, forged in the heart of a dying world. Nothing on Haven-7 could match it.

  The Techborn troops, who had been silent and watchful before, began to hoot and bet. They were thrilled. I’m sure they all believed they were about to watch their leader prove himself by slaughtering me—and they might be right about that.

  Stepping to an open area, we squared off. We circled each other, two predators sizing up their prey. Janson lunged first, his knife flashing in the harsh sunlight. I caught his blade with mine, hoping to destroy it with my vibrating, superior edge. The blades sparked as they clashed.

  His weapon didn’t break—disappointing. Worse, Janson was fast. Faster than I’d expected.

  After we dodged and thrust, engaging then stepping apart, I took his measure. He was fast—but I was faster.

  Pretending to slip, my left boot slid in dust—he immediately lunged. I caught his blade with mine and gripped his wrist with my off-hand, pulling him off balance.

  My buzzblade hummed as it sliced through the air. Janson’s shield took the hit, the tip of the blade scoring a white line on the shielding.

  A few of his men laughed when he stumbled. He slashed viciously, but I ducked under it.

  Now, we were in close. I took a swing with my fist, catching him in the ear. A splatter of red leaked from his split skin.

  We pushed apart and circled again. I hooted and laughed, waving my knuckles and pointing at Janson’s ear.

  “First blood to me!” I said, grinning.

  Janson snarled, his face contorting with rage. “You killed my son,” he spat. “Kade was the only good thing I ever made, and you took him from me.”

  I shrugged. “Kade made his choices. He chose poorly.”

  “There are no choices!” Janson roared. “Only existence. There are the strong and the weak. The Techborn are the strong. We are the future! But you, Tanner…? I think I know what you are. A spy, sent from Earth.”

  That surprised me. He’d figured it out. My face must have given away my shift of mood. Kade roared and flecks of spit flew from the corners of his mouth.

  “Ah-ha! I’m right! That blade—those unnatural muscles and foreign fighting techniques. You’re not even from our world. You don’t belong here. I will send you to hell, where all Earthers should feel at home.”

  That line set up an angry buzz among the Techborn watching us. On most colony worlds, especially independent-minded ones like Haven-7, Earth’s interference wasn’t appreciated. I could understand that attitude. After all, what could Earth do to help? Nothing but send a single man at a time. It was too expensive to trade with the colonies, or even to send out vital supplies from the home world.

  No, to these people, Earth was just their distant origin point. A nearly mythical planet they could never visit. A place their grandparents had come from, but which meant nothing to them now.

  Janson came at me again, his knife a blur of silver. I met him head-on, my buzzblade singing as it clashed against his blade. We traded blows, the sound of metal on metal and metal on shielding ringing out across the cliffs.