As the bots began attacking the Shields, he dropped the tablet into his pocket and quickly opened the hatch. Having been attacked, the Shields had counter-registered the Butchers as enemy targets, and were actively defending themselves. While the Butchers used their bladed attachments to try to hack through the Shields, the Shields used their four powerful hands to tear at the Butchers, ripping them apart.

  Hayden ran through the fray, sprinting toward the Osprey. He locked eyes with Vazquez in the pilot’s seat and circled his hand over his head, signalling her to start the engines. The rotors immediately began to spin up.

  He glanced over his shoulder, watching as the first Shield finished with its Butcher and turned in his direction, charging after him. Fairy leaned out of the hatch in front of him, and Hayden cut a wider path to the Osprey as she opened fire, plasma bolts sizzling into the Shield. The Butcher had managed to get through its armor in a few strategic spots, leaving some of its internals exposed. The plasma bolts found the holes. The Shield stumbled and crashed to the floor, one of its legs inoperable. It tried to pull itself across the rock deck after him.

  Hayden reached the aircraft, ducking through the side hatch. “Get us out of here!” he yelled to Vasquez, turning back to close the hatch. As Vazquez lifted off, banking the Osprey back toward the hangar bay doors, he grabbed onto the nearest webbed hand hold dangling from the overhead and smiled down at Fairy as she buckled herself into the jump seat next to the hatch. “Nice shooting,” he told her.

  “Thanks, Sheriff,” she said, obviously pleased with his compliment. “But I’m glad it’s over.”

  “Me too.” He braced himself as the craft accelerated out of the hangar and began to climb. “Are you sorry you volunteered to come along? If you are, we can—”

  “No! I’m good. It just got a little hairy there for awhile.”

  “That it did,” Hayden replied. “I’m glad you came along.” He just hoped he wouldn’t end up regretting it. The last thing he wanted to see was Fairy’s bullet-riddled body laying in a pool of her own blood.

  He squeezed her shoulder and worked his way from one hand hold to another as he worked his way back to where Fairy had tied Zorro. The stallion nickered when he approached. “You okay, boy?” Hayden asked, smoothing his hand down the animal’s neck, checking for bullet nicks. Z bobbed his head as if telling Hayden he was fine, but he checked the horse out anyway, all the way back to the base of his tail. His hide was crusted with the salt of his dried sweat, but he was indeed unscathed. “I’ll get you some grain and water as soon as I can.” Again, the horse bobbed his head. Grinning, Hayden gave the stallion one last pat on his rump and then moved forward again, heading for the cockpit.

  “Well, you didn’t die,” Vazquez said.

  “Neg,” Hayden agreed, bracing himself behind the two seats. “I didn’t get a location either. We need to go to Haven.”

  “Sheriff,” Thomas said. “I told you already, I don’t—”

  “I know,” Hayden replied, cutting him off. “We aren’t going there directly. Do you know anything about Lavega?”

  “We moved in there ahead of Houston,” Vazquez said. “It’s under Custodian control.”

  “Figures,” Hayden replied. “There’s a smaller settlement outside the original city. Did you take that too?”

  “It’s a similar setup to Arcadia,” Thomas remembered. “No constant presence, but our proxy helps keep the outlying population in line.”

  “Ruger doesn’t have the city then?”

  “Not Lavega. It’s under the auspices of the Western Reach.”

  “Pozz. Bring us close to the dam. I can direct you from there. I still know some folks in the area.”

  “Roger, Sheriff,” Vazquez said.

  “In the meantime, let me tell you both what I learned, and what I think it means. It might give you a new perspective on things.”

  23

  Marcus

  Marcus didn’t know if he had fallen through the side of the rock or if the rock had pulled him in, absorbing him into its overwhelming darkness. His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see a damn thing. The darkness surrounding him seemed to lose itself in infinity, the nothingness made his heart pound, his throat go dry as dust. It took him a moment to gather his wits. To recalibrate. To brace his hands on the moist floor and push himself back to his knees.

  He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the loading dock behind him through the opening his body had made. But the opening was gone. He was enclosed inside the pod.

  Trapped.

  Struggling to keep calm, Marcus felt around on the floor for the crystal. The surface reminded him of algae that would cling to the hulls of fishing boats, slimy and slightly rough. When he had first arrived on Harvest he had spent time with the crews who scraped the muck and barnacles. A dirty, difficult job. Still, it would be easy to discern the crystal from the slime, even in the pitch black.

  He slid forward on his knees, fingertips brushing the edge of the crystal. King had handed it to him with no explanation of what the hell it was or why he needed to bring it to the pod. No explanation of what the pod was either, other than that it was alien, which was pretty grepping obvious. The Grand Custodian had chosen him for this? Because he had dueled Sheriff Duke and won? He paused. No. He hadn’t won. The Sheriff was still alive, and he was down an arm.

  The thought made him angry. He had started to regret killing the Sheriff, but he didn’t need to regret it now because he had actually failed, just like his father had always told him he would.

  Wrapping his hand around the crystal, Marcus brought it to his chest, clutching it again and slowly rising to his feet. Was he going to die in here? Possible, but he wasn’t convinced. He had been chosen for this when anyone could be a snack for the alien pod. No, there was something more he was supposed to do. Something not everyone was qualified to do.

  That thought helped calm him. His pounding heart began to settle into a normal rhythm, his confidence returning. He had been chosen because he was strong. In fact, he had been chosen ahead of his father. His mouth split into a smile, the remainder of his fear fading as it did.

  “I have the crystal,” he said out loud, realizing he could still breathe. “Whatever you want it for, whatever you want me for, I’m here.” He paused. “I’m ready.”

  Marcus didn’t know what would happen next. He remained in place, eyes open. Calm. Waiting. For the moment, he felt like the center of the entire universe.

  Nothing happened.

  He continued to stand there, holding the crystal as the seconds turned into a minute. Then another.

  “Hello?” Marcus said, confused. “Why did you let me in here if you don’t want anything? Why did you choose me?”

  Still no reaction from the pod. Fear began creeping back into Marcus’ thoughts. His eyes danced over his shoulder to look again for the exit. He didn’t understand any of this. There had to be a purpose to his presence. There had to be a reason he was here.

  He remembered what King had said. Plan. Patience. Intelligence. Maybe his father believed he lacked those qualities, but he would prove him wrong. He needed a plan.

  Marcus again settled his panic, considering the situation. It wasn’t a complex scenario. He had an empty sidearm and the crystal. He was in an alien pod with zero visibility. Speaking had rendered no effect. King had sent him in with the crystal. He was supposed to do something with it besides just holding it.

  The ground was moist and slimy, the layer of whatever material composed it felt relatively thin. Reaching up, holding the crystal with just two fingers and his thumb, Marcus was able to run his middle and fore fingers along the top of the pod, determining the material there was the same. He doubted the rear would be any different, but what about the front?

  He slipped the crystal into the uniform’s breast pocket and took a tentative step forward, holding his hand out to feel for the forward wall. It was disorienting to move in the pitch black even when he knew he was going straight. One step. A second. A third. Judging by his look at the outside, he should be close to the front. Two more steps.

  His hand touched the wall. Soft and slimy like the rest of the interior, he pressed against it, allowing his hand to sink in, all the way up to his elbow.

  The material suddenly grabbed his forearm like a big hand, hardening around it. Marcus reacted instinctively, trying to pull away, but the material pulled back, holding him fast. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it begin to wind around his elbow, snaking its way up to his chest. Toward the crystal in his pocket.

  Patience. Instead of fighting back, Marcus gave in to the hold.

  The slime responded favorably, accelerating its movement across his chest. He felt it slide into his pocket to the crystal and begin winding around it, pulling it out. Once it held the crystal, the material around his arm softened again. It didn’t just release him, it shoved him backward with enough force he had to step back to stay on his feet.

  “That’s what you wanted, right?” Marcus said.

  He remained in place, waiting once more. He didn’t have to wait long.

  The crystal began to glow, a soft blue light appearing in the center of it, reflecting off the surfaces and spreading out, illuminating the ooze around it.

  Marcus didn’t expect to see a face looking back at him.

  His face.

  24

  Marcus

  The doppelganger would never be confused for human. It was made of the ooze, shaped and sculpted and molded into Marcus’ exact likeness, every nook, cranny and wrinkle identical, though captured in a monochrome relief rather than fully-lifelike color. Every detail, except one.

  His counterpart had both arms.

  One of the copy’s hands held the crystal, its glow continuing to intensify as the seconds passed and the two Marcuses stared silently at one another. The replica’s other hand remained static at its side, unused for the moment. Marcus noticed too that the copy remained tethered to the wall by strands of the ooze, as if it were a nightmarish marionette.

  “Can you speak?” Marcus asked, staring into the eyes of the duplicate. It didn’t possess cornea and retina, instead a dark rounded surface beneath the lids.

  “Can you speak?” the copy replied, mimicking him completely.

  “Why am I here?” Marcus asked.

  “Why am I here?” the doppelganger mimicked.

  Patience. Intelligence. Marcus took another step back, eyes shifting to the crystal. “I’ll wait.”

  “I’ll wait,” it parroted.

  Marcus remained in place as the crystal’s light continued to intensify, soon revealing that the utter darkness was caused by particles floating in the air inside the pod. Particles he had already been breathing in. They absorbed all of the light, causing it to breach only a few feet before dying out fully, making it impossible to see the whole of the interior at once. But he could see enough of the front, sides, top and bottom of the immediate area to see that the entire rock was composed of the same ooze, which shifted and whorled around itself at a pace which increased with the glow of the crystal.

  Ten minutes passed. Twenty. The crystal became so bright it began to hurt Marcus’ eyes, so he stepped farther back, moving deeper into the particles to help shield himself from the light. He moved forward again when the doppelganger finally moved of its own accord, turning and offering the crystal to the ooze which reached out to take it, wrapping it in strands pressed against the front of the pod, making it look like a large glowing eye.

  Then the copy turned back to Marcus, the tethers pulling away. It took a step toward him, its eyes gaining increased detail that allowed it to offer an intelligent expression.

  “Marcus,” it said in his voice. “Your name is Marcus. You have had such pain in your life.”

  Marcus stared back at the copy. “What do you know about it?”

  “Everything. I know everything. Your entire life to the moment you stumbled into my domain.”

  “How?”

  The doppelganger held up its hand, sweeping at the particles. “They are me, as this is me.” Its hand reversed direction, fingers touching its chest. “All of this is me. I have looked inside you, Marcus. You were correct. You are ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Marcus asked, new fear sending a sudden chill down his spine.

  “To become the first of my servants. The emissary of my coming to your world.” He laughed. “It’s so pathetic, it’s barely worth my time, except...” It trailed off.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. How does an entity of infinite power, age and intellect explain itself to something so primitive?” He sighed. “Even those waiting outside have no idea what they’ve unleashed. But someone must.” The copy paused as if thinking. “It is curious to me. Something unknown. So rare.”

  Marcus wanted to ask it again what it was talking about, but he remained silent.

  “You learn quickly,” his doppelganger said. “It’s not for you to question. It’s for you to serve.”

  “I don’t want to serve. I want to be free.”

  “Freedom is a myth, Marcus. Only the most powerful are ever truly free. Everyone serves someone or something, even on a planet like yours. But some are freer than others. My demands are light and my rewards are great.” The copy laughed again. “And you don’t really have a choice. I hunger.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “What you are standing in is an escape pod of sorts,” it explained. “Jettisoned during the first attack against me nearly three million years ago. For many of those years it wandered across the stars along with hundreds of others like it, seeking suitable worlds. Many of those pods have since arrived, the worlds they’ve encountered devoured. Many more have been destroyed, prevented from completing the task.

  “This pod arrived too late and was intercepted as it entered the planet’s atmosphere, cast off-course and into the sea. It is there that I waited, unable to begin my conquest. By the time one of your boats plucked me from the ocean floor, my energy stores were depleted, my abilities limited. Hibernation. I continued to sleep. To wait. I would still be waiting, if not for the gift delivered to me.”

  “The crystal?” Marcus asked.

  “An Axon energy unit,” his copy replied.

  “What’s an Axon?”

  “Another race of intelligent beings, nearly as old as the Relyeh. We have been at war for thousands of years, locked in an endless stalemate. Though I suspect it won’t be endless for much longer. The energy unit is a power supply, and I require it to regain my former strength. But I require more.”

  “Is that where I come in?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes. I require an emissary who is mentally and physically strong enough to carry forth my will. You are both of those things. You also have something else I require.”

  Marcus smiled at the alien’s compliments. At least it recognized his true potential, even if his father couldn’t. “What is that?”

  “You have entered combat against the Sheriff and nearly prevailed.”

  Marcus froze. “The Sheriff? You know Sheriff Duke?” It seemed everyone knew who Sheriff Duke was, including an alien that had been sleeping at the bottom of the sea for over two hundred years. “How?”

  “We have interacted before, though he might not realize it. He is the greatest threat to my conquest. The one human who can interfere with my hunger. You nearly destroyed him once. I require that you finish the job.”

  “I understand. There’s only one problem.” He tapped the control ring beneath his uniform. “I’m not the man I was the last time I dueled the Sheriff. I didn’t beat him then. There’s no way I can beat him now.”

  His doppelganger smiled. “You didn’t have me before. You won’t undertake this mission alone. You are to be my emissary. You will carry my primary moiety and together we will kill Sheriff Duke.”

  “Carry your moiety? I don’t understand what that means.” Whatever a moiety was, Marcus didn’t like the sound of it. Fairy had been disappointed to hear about Sheriff Duke. He wasn’t sure he wanted to fight him again, much less kill him. What he really wanted was to get the hell out of this place. To go his own way. That seemed impossible now.

  “I will become a part of you, and you will benefit from my joining, as I will benefit from you. A symbiotic partnership.”

  “What if I say no?”

  The copy laughed. “You can’t say no, Marcus. It’s already happened.”

  A sudden pressure squeezed Marcus’ mind, like someone was driving a nail through his skull. A loud buzzing noise filled his senses, and he fell to his knees, clutching his right ear with his hand, unable to muffle the awful sound. The doppelganger fell to its knees too, mimicking every movement Marcus made until it began to move before him, blinking before he blinked, crying out before he cried out.

  Who was copying whom here?

  The buzzing subsided a few seconds later, the interior of the pod going silent once more. The copy melted then, the ooze composing it sinking back into the floor.

  “Wait! Stop! Where are you going?” Marcus said, finding himself alone in the dark once more. Only he wasn’t alone. He could still feel the pressure on his mind. “What did you do to me?”

  Nothing yet. I will make you faster. Stronger. Better than Sheriff Duke.

  His own voice came from fully inside his head, as though he were thinking to himself. But it wasn’t his voice. It was the alien’s.

  “I don’t need your help,” Marcus said. “I can beat the Sheriff on my own.”

  You do need my help. You lack an appendage. I will repair it.

  Marcus watched as the ooze at his feet began to move again, a thick mass of it beginning to climb his leg.

  “Wait,” he said. “What are you doing?”