《Apex Short Stories》


 Guardian Angel

    Guardian Angel


    An Apex Short Story


    -by Ninmast Nunyabiz-


    Part 1


    She had smelled so nice.


    In his desperation, at first, the only feature he noticed was the Union Defender icon on the back of her jacket. He had felt like he''d have to run forever to find someone to help, and elated gratitude had filled him at seeing that globe and star crest so quickly. When she turned toward his shouting, his mind only registered the white of her rig against the blue and black of her reinforced bodysuit as a side-note. It was too busy panicking to find anything else about her worth mentioning at all.


    When he tried to tell her what had happened, words failed him. He gestured and flailed and made all sorts of sounds, but the longer his tongue and his cerebrum refused to cooperate, the greater his panic became, which only made finding the words that much harder.


    There were many responses one could have expected from someone with the mentality necessary to join the Defenders. Agitation, annoyance, frustration, anger. Telling him to get a grip or calling for a paramedic with a tranquilizer. Her response was none of these things.


    Instead, to his surprise and in a shock to his fear response, she''d knelt down and embraced him. She held his head against her chest and, restraining his limbs with her own, gently forced him to be still. She ran her fingers through his head feathers and whispered hushing noises into his ear until his breathing began to slow in time to her heart he could feel through her breastplate. Her soothing scent drifted into his nose, forced all the more by their enclosed proximity. It was a touch sweet and a little loamy, almost floral.


    She had smelled so nice. Why, out of all of it, that stuck with him so heavily, he couldn''t say. Nevertheless, it had embedded itself firmly as her most defining characteristic by the time he had calmed himself enough for her to allow the evening chill to replace her soft warmth. With a smile, she encouraged him to try again.


    It worked, and he was able to tell her about the preds that had taken his sister, how she had made him hide so that only she was taken, and how they dragged her back into Border Town, threatening to kill her if she screamed. When recalling the events worked him back into a fuss, the defender ran her fingers through his plumage again and waited until he was able to continue. He was even able to point her exactly to the building they''d holed up in, since he had dared to tail them instead of immediately fleeing. She had assured him he was very brave for that.


    Now they were back at her speeder, and while she was relaying the situation to her commander via holo, he finally had a moment to take in more than just her badge.


    "... at least a dozen heat signatures ..."


    He wasn''t really listening to the conversation, though as she would turn one way or another, the movement would draw his attention just enough to catch a few words.


    "... for a full strike team, but ..."


    She was tall, or at least taller than him by about two heads, and a mammal of some variety. Bipedal, as convergent evolution had driven most sapient life in the galaxy, with fur instead of plumage coming out of the top and back of her head. It was the brown color of a late autumn leaf, and worn long as if to imitate a tail he only at that time noticed she didn''t have. That was unusual, most mammals had tails to help them balance on two legs, among other reasons. Was she really clumsy?


    "... due respect, they''ll take too ..."


    She reminded him of the females of his own species, and he found himself wondering if they were more like her before galactic society turned his people inside-out.


    His species, the Chisay, were descended from avians, while the vast majority of bipedal galactic species descended from mammals and reptiles. His people were known for being friendly, highly sociable and colorful, but this was a perspective almost entirely shaped by the males. Like most birds, they had evolved for the males to be smaller, more socially outgoing and more visually appealing, with colorful feathers and delicate features.


    Females, on the other hand, were larger, as they were the ones that would be there to fight to protect the children from predators. They were plainer, too, with their plumage tending more toward browns and grays, and once upon a time, it helped them blend in with tree limbs or cliffs better than the more colorful males, so as to be less likely to draw a predator''s eyes to their nests.


    When they took wing to the stars and became a part of the galactic community, however, this proved to be the exact opposite of the norm, and every Chisa old enough to see the world around them knew what that had done to their society. Suddenly, Chisay males were being actively courted by countless exotic aliens, and for the first time, the females had to ... masculinize themselves if they hoped to get a mate. After generations, it had completely destroyed their own culture, and for their females, any sense of what it meant to be such.


    As a female, the defender was largely unadorned, sturdily built and of simple, mundane colors. At the same time, she had already shown herself warm and compassionate to some terrified thing smaller than herself. In short, to the Chisa''s eyes, she looked like a woman.


    "... not saying don''t send them, just ..."


    It occurred to him that he didn''t actually recognize her species at all. Of course, anyone short of an ambassador or xenobiologist could be forgiven for not being able to offhandedly recall all of the Galactic Union''s hundred-plus member species, but the number physically suitable for service in the Defender corps was far lower, and those with the psychological profile for it fewer still. Even a young teen like him could recognize most of the corps'' races, but he drew a blank on her.


    "... Understood, heading out."


    He realized she''d ended the call when she started preparing her gear from the speeder''s storage compartment. Wow, a pulse shotgun looked way bigger in real life. But it made sense. Who knew how many preds were in that building, and the wide spread of the nonlethal weapon was in the Defender arsenal specifically for these kinds of situations. That and riot control, but would it have enough power to-- Oh, she changed the intensity setting ... Y-yeah, that would probably be a good idea. Y''know, preds.


    But then she moved her taser from her holster to the box. Wasn''t she going-- wait, was she replacing it with a pistol?!


    By the time she closed the cache box, she''d added spare batteries for the shotgun, a pair of metal rectangles he assumed were the same thing for the lethal sidearm, an extra bundle of ties ... and a knife half again as long as his hand!


    All of it attached to various magnetic hardpoints on her bodysuit, designed to be both easily accessible and out of her way. By the time she had finished, she looked more as if she were going to war - a nearly foreign concept to the Union, viewed akin to Mutually Assured Destruction - than to a crime scene.


    But, again, he reminded himself, they were preds. This was probably a good idea.


    "Stay with the speeder," she told him. "Any other preds come around, you hide inside. More defenders will be here soon."


    She had nearly turned away when he made himself speak. "W-wait!" If he didn''t ask now and something happened to her, he''d never know. "Miss Defender! What are you?" He had wanted to ask her name, but lost the nerve at the last second.


    She hesitated to turn back toward him. His stupid question, he realized, had probably interrupted her when she was building herself up mentally to charge into a den of predators. But when she turned back, she gave him a bright, proud smile.


    "I''m a human," she answered.


    * * *


    Part 2


    She hated preds.


    That wasn''t hyperbole. She didn''t just strongly dislike them. They didn''t irritate her. She truly, genuinely hated them as one does when something''s very existence is a blight on one''s own.


    The slang term was short for predator, but it meant more than that when it was used. There were dozens of predator species in Union space, though to date, none were members. This was solely because of the preds, predators who hunted sapient beings, among countless other violent crimes. They had no civilization of their own and put no value in anyone else''s. Only strength mattered, and, they reasoned, the strong were entitled to indulgence.


    All Union member species were first civilized species, and as such, evolved from prey species. Civilization, itself, Union scientists and historians agreed, was the natural evolution of the Herd, once a herd species becomes intelligent. The predator equivalent, the Pack, was too exclusionary to become civilized.


    Without fail, every attempt the Union had discovered of a predator species attempting Civilization had led to self-annihilation. Competition over resources, or even mere pecking order, would lead to violence and the breakdown of alliances between the packs. Any development of technology would only be turned on solidifying power and ousting rival leaders. Most predator species didn''t even try to civilize, loyal only to their family groups or small packs and riding the coat tails of their prey into the larger galaxy.


    Oh, it was theoretically possible for a predator species to develop a Herd evolutionary trait that would then be able to lead to a Civilized people, but it would require such an utter Hell World of hyper-competition that even the apex predator of the entire biosystem would need to fear predation for as long as it lived. It was, for all intents and purposes, considered the stuff of holo flicks and bad science fiction.


    Yes, in a very literal sense, the Union was racist against predators, but they tried very hard not to be. No predator was allowed to be imprisoned merely for being a predator, and would be allowed to engage in trade, commerce and nearly every other privilege of a Union citizen until they actually committed a crime.


    Because predators were designed by nature to kill, however, and because preds were incapable of forming the bonds with others outside their packs necessary to treat others in a civilized manner, there were countless little restrictions on them, from movement to registration, even what work they were allowed to do.


    Because of preds, she had been twice over robbed of her chance at a normal, peaceful life, and forced to choose between fighting to protect the Union or forever be a social outcast, because everyone knew only predators took the menial, heavy manual labor of the docks and warehouses.


    And all because she was a human, the bad scifi flick come to life in terrifying flesh and blood. Once they realized they''d mistaken a predator for a prey species since she''d not conducted herself like a lunatic barbarian ... well, at least they were genuinely apologetic as they turned around and took back the promise of attending a Union university they''d previously given her.


    The worst part was that it only happened because she''d protected her friends and fellow students from pred muggers. No good deed, they say. Damn, she hated preds.


    And now a bunch of them had gone and started taking citizens right off the street. They must have built up quite a group to be so bold, but that was about to change. Somewhere in the abandoned storehouse was an innocent girl whose only sin was protecting her brother, and they intended to make KFC out of her. Well, she would kill every last one of them if she had to in order to keep that from happening.


    There were two big bruisers at the entrance, wearing old, patchwork rigs. One was armed with an auto-printed smoothbore projectile weapon - the alien hypertech equivalent of a slamgun - while the other rested a piece of construction piping with a hunk of concrete on one end over his shoulders. Neither was relevant to her, as she had no intention of using the front door.


    Her own military-grade rig wasn''t necessary for the running jump that caught hold of the old emergency ladder along the side of the building, as humans, like most primates, were adept climbers and jumpers. She would have preferred a grapnel to make it all quicker, but aids like that were rare among Union gear. If you needed to get up somewhere high, it was more common practice to either use a craft or send a member of a race capable of flight or skilled in climbing. Most Union species were much too uncomfortable with methods of traversal that weren''t natural to them to invest in ways to do it better.


    But then, most Union species would have charged right at the front gate, she reflected as she found a hole in the roof and dropped down into the building''s rafters. That was why she wasn''t surprised to find that those were the only preds on guard. About a dozen others were inside, milling around like a gang. Some were drinking, others were gambling, a few were catching a catnap, and a couple were actually doing something productive with weapon maintenance.


    It always struck her as odd that preds didn''t do regular patrols. Instead, they preferred places with as few access points as possible, and then placed a token force on what points they couldn''t block. Even the bruisers out front were intended more as eyes for Defenders or rival gangs and intimidating walls of meat to keep gawkers moving than anything intended to hold off a sustained assault.


    This was the predator mindset on display, she had been told in training. So long as their numbers were too low to stir conflict within the pack, it was not in their nature to fear attack. No prey species, after all, evolved to hunt. Yes, they had members that were walking tanks, but none of them knew how to stalk, pursue, track or ambush. It simply wasn''t in their natures.


    Go figure, she thought as she made her way silently across beams and girders, mapping the storehouse floor and mentally noting where the preds were generally located. Prey species were bad at hunting. If the Defenders had been based around a large human contingent, this lazy confidence from the preds would see them nearly wiped out within a solar cycle.


    But there wasn''t a large contingent of humans. They were, in fact, the smallest racial representation in the entire field, numbering exactly one. She was the only human in the entire organization, in the entirety of the Union, in fact. It was why they had so little clue as to what to do with her.


    She found the girl toward the back. She''d arrived in time; though bound and stripped of most of her clothes, the Chisa girl was largely unharmed. The preds were preparing to change that, however, as they attempted to jury-rig a large, improvised electric grill to the stripped connections of the warehouse''s old power systems. It must have had its own generator; she could feel the rafters under her feet vibrate each time they tried, as if something massive was attempting to turn in the ground beneath the building. Her stomach churned with each drawl of whatever turbines were below at the idea of them kicking fully over and that poor girl getting grilled alive.


    She would have preferred to have more time to plan out exactly how to move next, maybe pick out the most dangerous targets or how best to clear the area around the Chisa. Unfortunately, there was a scav in the mix down below. Scavs were smaller, more skittish preds who evolved from scavengers, hence the name. More regular preds held no respect for them, but they lived to be toadies to whatever predator scared them the most, seeking to spare their own lives through sniveling and brown nosing.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The more immediate problem, however, was that scavs had extremely sensitive senses, usually of smell or hearing, to go with their overdeveloped flight response. Damn, the little walking alarm bell was already looking around, too.


    "... Uh, guys," he was starting to say in a nasally tone as both his ears and his nose twitched, though the preds closest to him seemed to ignore him, "I think somebody''s--"


    He said nothing more as her boots came down on either shoulder and the entirety of her body''s weight and momentum collapsed his spinal column and crushed the vertebrae, while simultaneously severing the cord within from the brain. It was as instantaneous and total as if she''d beheaded him.


    ... And that, the preds noticed.


    The room filled with shouts ranging from recognizing her as a defender to cluelessly demanding to know what was going on. She was already drawing the pulse shotgun while they were still reeling in surprise, and fired it into the group ahead of her while still crouched, only to immediately pivot as she stood and fire it again behind her. The kinetic waves sent preds and old storage containers rolling and provided an opening to keep her from being dogpiled.


    They charged her now, but she barely saw them as individuals. Click, pulse, turn, click, pulse, rotate, click, pulse. Duck. Click, pulse. Reload, repeat. It almost felt like she was on autopilot as their slow charges were replied to in a dervish that she barely needed to direct. The cadence of their footfalls was no match for the beating of her heart as it thundered in her ears above their shouts and cries. Even then, she felt as if she might fire several times between its beats.


    She knew what was happening. Distantly, her rational mind, still slurring away on a trickle feed of resources, recognized she had entered combat mode. Her deep breaths were bringing as much oxygen into her lungs as her body could possibly pump while glands dumped combat drug level compounds into her bloodstream. Blood was directed into her core more than her extremities to protect against loss in case of damage, making her limbs feel light and airy. Her brain dimmed pain responses to limit loss of combat effectiveness should she be injured. Muscles that were capable of crushing the stronger-than-concrete bones they were attached to had their limiters removed to maximize performance, even at the risk of self-inflicted damage.


    Most spectacular of all, however, was the incomprehensible processing power of the human brain. As powerful as it was at any given time, it was normally a terribly distracted device. Not only was it, like any animal brain, constantly tracking so many things simultaneously, it was the most resource-hungry component of a high-performance machine to enable the advanced thought processes its host enjoyed. In times of great need, however, it was capable of dumping those higher processes to enhance sensory processing by orders of magnitude.


    While most predators ran at full power all of the time, humans had so much physical power that they evolved limiters to protect themselves, and so much brain power that they slowed themselves down for musing. All it took, however, was a single switch to turn off all of those restrictions and return them to a state of primal dominance.


    The worst part was how good it felt.


    She turned and saw a hulking simic reptile grab a rickety, makeshift stool and wind back with it. She crossed her arms in front of her face and braced for the impact of the hurled furniture. Even without the incredibly tough bones and decreased pain, she doubted it have meant much through her bodysuit. Its armor wasn''t exactly heavy, but it didn''t take much to protect her limbs from the projectile, and her limbs in turn would protect anything more vital. Like her face.


    When it broke over her and shattered to either side of her form, however, the real threat was that the killer croc had charged her behind his seat.


    He went to crash his mass against her, to push her off balance, to force her to the ground ... and ... she let him. Instead of trying to wrestle with his bulk, after bracing against his arms, she reached for his collar and let herself fall backwards with him. As her center of gravity started to go past the point of no return, she placed first one foot, then as she was nearly on her back, the other into his abdomen. With their shared momentum, she rolled back and shoved with both of her feet, monkey flipping him into the crates behind her.


    She wasn''t sure when the shotgun left her hands - it must have been when she reached for him with both of hers - but she grabbed for it and snatched it back up.


    "STOP!" The male voice shouted over the din just as she was getting back to her feet, and she turned and saw a lanky, pale pred with a flat, slit nose next to the Chisa, sharp talons raised toward her neck. "Put down your weapons, Defender, and--"


    She knew what he was going to say. Put down your weapons and surrender or the girl dies. So trite. So boring. And he took so long to say it. Besides, if she did such a stupid thing, she and the girl would both die. So while he was still talking, she pulled the pistol out and shot him in the face.


    The crates behind her shifted and she heard the heavy footfalls of the killer croc coming toward her. The pulse shotgun''s recoil wasn''t meant for one hand, but she held it toward him without looking, anyway. To her ears and her other senses, she knew exactly where he was. She felt, more than heard, him pause inches from the barrel. And she pulled the trigger.


    At point blank range, the higher level of the less than lethal riot control weapon became very lethal, indeed, the kinetic energy moving through bones and internal organs faster than the body could be thrown. Against the barrel, the setting she''d put it to before ever coming in would have obliterated a concrete wall.


    He stirred after he landed back in the crates, but it was mostly reflex. He was dead before he could do more than raise his head, and his bulk went still.


    She took a moment to look around the storeroom, but nothing more raised to challenge her, and she moved toward the girl. As she reached her, she pulled out the knife and began to cut at her bindings.


    "Hold on, kiddo, we''ve almost got you out of here," she said, more to say something at all than anything.


    "What the fuck are you?!"


    She blinked. That hadn''t come from the girl. Instead, she turned and saw the slit-nose pred holding his hand over a bloody hole on his forehead as he scrambled for his feet. Damn, cranial plates. Annoying. She left the girl there a little longer and turned to face him again, placing herself between him and the bird.


    "You''re no leaf muncher, that''s for damn sure," he continued to rant at her. "What are you?!"


    "I''m a human," she said again for the second time that night as she raised the knife into a fighting stance. "The apex predator of a Hell World."


    "Bullshit!" he replied, but he took his hand from his wound and crouched lower, his opposable talons raised at the end of his stringy arms as they began to circle one another.


    "The alternative is that your whole pack just got wiped out by a leaf muncher."


    His answering growl turned into a shout as he lunged for her. Her knife fended away the swipe of his claws, but then they were on each other as the struggle turned into a grappling match.


    Those lanky limbs held a surprising amount of strength, while remaining agile enough to keep her arms on the move even as she rushed to keep her footing. He slammed her into a wall and she felt something jab into her back. The ground beneath them churned again, and this time the great beast in the basement turned over. Sparks began to fly from the loose assortment of cables and some of them began to twitch and jerk.


    She pounded her forehead into his, felt his wet blood against her skin. She did it again, then a third time before he staggered away from her far enough for her to get her boot between the two of them and shove him away.


    His foot caught on one of the cords and he fell backwards as he dislodged it. The thick electrical cable began to dance with more vigor. Thinking quickly, he grabbed it behind the live end, as one would a snake behind its head to keep it from biting. As he got to his feet, he pulled the cord behind and around him with his other hand as he kept the business end toward the Defender.


    He lunged with it a couple times to evoke a response from her, but she didn''t flinch. The third time he did it, she sliced the back of his forearm with her knife, forcing him to release the cable and stumble back again. The cord slapped the ground and sent arcs and sparks into the air with enough force to draw a scream from the Chisa girl, but the two predators were more concerned with each other.


    She pulled the pistol and fired it again, the first shot hitting him in his shoulder, then a second, this one glancing off of his cranial plate again.


    "DAMN YOU!" he shouted.


    But she had taken a card from the killer croc''s playbook and used his disorientation to charge and punt his cord back toward him.


    This time, his reflexes damned him, and he caught the live wire with his hands. He couldn''t shout. All of his muscles tensed and spasmed, but the pain on his face was lit up by the arcs that surged through him and splashed around him searching for ground. He stumbled back, and again, his feet tangled in the cords, and he went down as the live wire landed on top of him.


    Smoke was filling the room and a panel in the wall sparked and blew, and still he continued to dance on the floor. She wasn''t sure his charred form was even still alive, but the old generator was starting to make a bad sound. It churned harder, dryer and with a growing whine as the vibrations increased in intensity.


    She turned back to the girl and, without comment, quickly sliced through the ties. If she nicked the girl with the knife now, they had bigger problems to worry about. Once the girl was free, the defender scooped her up in a princess carry and began running for the front gate.


    Perhaps the guards had thought all the ruckus was just a regular fight breaking out among the preds, because the two big bruisers were still there as she came running out. They had only started to look around as the trembling reached them with enough intensity to start shaking dust down from the structure.


    They turned at the sight of a Defender and readied their weapons, but she ran right past them. "I''d run if I were you," was all she spared them, and didn''t even bother looking back to see if they took her advice.


    * * *


    Part 3


    The human had been right. Not long after she had left, more defenders arrived, more than he''d ever seen in one place. They towered over him and all bristled with the nervous energy typical of expecting danger.


    A couple of them had come over and confirmed most of what she had asked him, then opened up one of their speeders so he could sit inside instead of having to stand around. Another contacted his parents, but said they weren''t allowed to come out right away because of the danger of the situation.


    None of them moved toward the warehouse. Whenever they would be talking about it, he''d overhear things like "heightened bioscans" and "weapon discharges." He gathered the fighting with the preds must have already started, and it was too dangerous, so these officers were more to keep a perimeter and monitor the situation from here.


    Had they sent even more defenders to the warehouse, then?


    He distracted himself from worrying over his sister and the defender woman by looking humans up on the extranet. It was either that, or fret and worry without being able to do anything about it until he started to molt.


    There was precious little information to be had on them, surprisingly. They were a newly discovered species, very new. Holy moley, like within the last solar cycle or two new. Apparently, the only reason the net had anything on them at all was because the species had offered its own databases as part of first contact.


    That was unusual. Most species, as he understood it, tended to hold back on sharing so much information about themselves with an alien society they just met. Either humans were immensely friendly or they truly were fearless. He decided he liked the idea of a little bit of both being true.


    In either case, the Union was restricting the release of the databases to the net while they worked their way through and verified them. As such, only mostly surface information was available on their species.


    Let''s see, somewhat high gravity home world, pre FTL species with intrasolar capabilities, mostly standard atmosphere, explained why she didn''t need much in the way of support equipment. What did she eat?


    Oh, she was an omnivore, that was unusual! Non-predator omnivores, the Chisay actually among them, were exceedingly rare among Union species. Their diets consisted mostly of fruits, starches, greens and small, nonsentient life like insects. While Union markets had a dazzling array of fruits, nuts and vegetables, it was hard to find that last category outside of specialty stores.


    He wondered if they and the humans could share snacks. It didn''t look like it would be an issue, apparently humans had already been verified compatible with at least 97% of Union foodstuffs, wow! Most species considered themselves lucky if they could hit 60%, what with various things that one species considered toxic and another considered a seasoning. Humans, on the other hand, could pretty much eat whatever they wanted. They really were omnivores!


    He had a dirty thought to look up their mating habits. Were their females interested in smaller males? Were they ... compatible? He lost his nerve as he became hyperaware of his surroundings while considering looking this up. Suddenly, he could hear the footsteps of officers milling around and realized one could walk by at any moment, and he reflexively canceled the search.


    Turned out that it didn''t matter much, though, as a more general search after he''d calmed down revealed that little of that type of information was out yet. The extranet only had that they were sexually dimorphic with two distinct sexes along standard biological lines, and little else. Probably a delicate topic at best, and far too early to have any data outside of their own species.


    He tried looking up their home planet, but again, information was sparse. There had apparently been a wide-scale environmental shift in recent planetary history, and the human-provided databases were from before the event. As such, the Union was likely still trying to do a full planetary analysis, or had yet to negotiate such with the humans.


    Still, considering how broad the concept of "recent" could be in planetary terms, it must have been a pretty severe climate shift for the most complete native records to predate it. Whatever had happened must have really wrecked havoc on their society. Maybe, with Union aid, they''d be able to recover more quickly. He wondered if they might still need aid volunteers by the time he had finished his education.


    The planet was third of eight or nine orbiting a yellow sun, and had a single moon. As for the oddly inconcise planet count, the system apparently had a number of candidates that could be classed as a ninth planet, some that had already been discarded as dwarf planets and others that were only barely in the system at all. The total mass of stellar bodies in the system was frankly absurd, and included two asteroid belts and THREE gas giants. It was no wonder their home planet was so dense as to have such high gravity.


    When he learned that the humans named their planets after mythological figures, he started to get curious about that. Mythology was another category that was still drastically underpopulated for them, but he wanted to know how it compared with Chisay mythology. In particular, he had wanted to compare the human Defender to a particular type of divine servant that would descend from the high clouds beyond the sky to defend and comfort those in need.


    They did! They did have a parallel! It was--


    There was a bright flash of light and the pressure suddenly dropped until his ears nearly popped. Before he could even understand what was happening, the air came back with a vengeance and slammed into the speeder with enough force to rattle it fiercely, and him with it.


    An explosion, he realized after it passed and he crawled back out of the vehicle on his knees. Something had exploded.


    The speeder''s stabilizers might have made it worse, he realized as he got his feet on solid ground again. All of the defenders were still standing and had done little more than raise their arms in front of their faces and brace themselves, save one who might have fallen back in shock.


    The heavy smoke cloud was still pluming into the air above where the old storehouse had been and small fires had broken out in spotted locations, clearly visible against the darkening sky. Somewhere in the crowd, a Defender got on comms to send for fire and rescue.


    All he could do was shoulder past them and stare toward the crater. The crater that had been where his sister and the human Defender were. The crater where nothing was anymore.


    "Movement," somebody shouted. "I see movement!"


    It took him a moment of searching before his eyes saw it, too, though the dying light made it hard to make out many details.


    That was what spotlights were for, apparently, as several of the speeders promptly turned theirs on and trained them on the approaching figure. The light glinted off of a white and black rig over a dark blue and black bodysuit ... and two brown heads.


    "IT''S THEM!" He couldn''t keep himself from shouting, jumping and flailing his arms, completely forgetting all of the officers around him. He laughed as his feet threw him down the incline toward the Defender and his sister, the latter still in the human''s arms and covered from indecency by the jacket the human had draped over her.


    It was a short time later that he again had returned to sitting, this time beside his sister. The human''s jacket laid beside them and she had replaced it with a blanket from the paramedics who had given her a clean bill of health. Their parents had been notified again and were on their way to pick them both up, refusing the idea that either should walk home that evening.


    "-- had an old reactor in the basement, didn''t last long after it actually came on." Nearby, the human was giving a report on what had happened inside the storehouse to a Defender so large that he looked ready to burst out of his suit, and whose badge was more ornate than the others. He had thick gray skin and a conical horn grew from his snout.


    The large officer sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "You really tested your luck this time."


    "If I hadn''t, we wouldn''t have gotten there in time to save her."


    "I know that!" he snapped back, but withdrew and rubbed at his face again. "One of these days, you''re going to rush headlong into something you''re not coming back from."


    "I''ll do my best to get the mission done on the way out, then, sir."


    Her superior seethed for a bit, and ranted a bit longer than that, but soon dismissed her with a, "Go home and get some fucking ice on that arm, I''m sick of seeing it."


    She saluted and turned to leave.


    Remembering what he had been looking up, the boy looked around for a quick excuse and grabbed up her jacket before hurrying after her. "Human! Miss Human!"


    She turned back to look at him, a bit surprised at the shout, but he came to a stop in front of her and held the coat up to her. Taking a moment to catch his breath, and putting on the most grateful smile he could manage, he said, "Thank you for being our guardian angel."


    The surprise on her face increased tenfold, then came down in the warmest smile he''d seen as she accepted her jacket and slung it over a shoulder. "You''re welcome, kid. It''s what I''m here for. And thanks, words like that make it all worth it."


    As she left, the big Defender chuckled next to the boy. "Angel, eh? Too bad she''s already got a callsign, that''d have been a good one."


    Realizing he never did get an actual name out of her, the Chisa looked up at the large figure with a tilted head. "What do you call her?"


    His face split into a wide grin, showing great, big, flat teeth.


    "We call her Apex."

 Home Sweet Home

    Home Sweet Home


    An Apex Short Story


    -by Ninmast Nunyabiz-


    She slung her jacket onto the wall hook with practiced accuracy as the lights of the apartment automatically came on in response to her presence. Though she had switched out of her bodysuit uniform back at the precinct, her jacket still had the Union Defender star and planet logo on the shoulder with her callsign printed underneath.


    By the time she stepped out of the entryway, a young woman was already standing there. She wasn''t human, but she was representative of the otherwise most humanoid race in the Union, the Undpana, a bipedal primate analogue that was highly expressive and had features that reminded her of an Asian ethnicity. The woman could almost pass for a human, in fact, except her ears were noticeably too round. Also, she had a tail. And she would give herself away if she smiled, which would reveal her flat teeth. Or took off her shoes, which would show her hand-like feet.


    Oh, and there was the minor detail that she was ever so slightly see-through.


    "Welcome home, Ash!" the AI greeted her cheerfully. She liked to change her outfit regularly on a whim, and currently, she was imitating a housewife look with an apron, and was leaning over as if to tempt the straight woman with her cleavage. "How many preds did you massacre today? Was it more than ten?!"


    She pointed her finger at the assistant she''d been given by the Union to assist in her integration. "You are way too bloodthirsty for a herbivore, Kerry." Technically, she could have walked right through the hologram, but that had always crossed her as incredibly rude, so, as always, she made a point to step around the AI to walk by and into the kitchenette.


    Kerry wheeled toward the officer, who was already digging out a bag of protein chips from a cabinet. "One, you aren''t nearly bloodthirsty enough for an apex predator, Miss Jones. Two, you could at least try to pronounce my name correctly. And three--" A small roller drone sped down the countertop, extended a manipulator and snatched the bag of chips out of Ashley''s hands. "--Don''t be spoiling your appetite with snack foods, we''re having curry for dinner!"


    The human eyed the escaping drone who stole her chips by order of its mistress like she was considering chasing it down, but let it go with a shrug and went for a drink from the fridge instead.


    "Sounds delicious," she said as she shut the refrigerator door. It wasn''t really curry, but she had called the tangy vegetable roux over grains that once, and Kerry was fond of reusing Earth terms. She popped the cap off of her not really beer before heading over to the not quite living room of the open floor apartment. "And you know my tongue has trouble with Pani syllables. But maybe I''ll try harder when you stop talking to me like I''m a rabid butcher."


    The hologram puffed her cheeks in an extreme pout - overanimated by human standards, but perfectly normal for an Undpa - and plopped her elbows on the counter. It was a particularly impressive animation, with her clothes bunching against the surface, considering she was intangible. "Why don''t you just say I''m not allowed to have any fun while you''re at it?"


    The human scoffed as she kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the not-quite-sofa/sort-of-chaise futon-ish lounge and felt it automatically adjust, first to her harder than necessary impact, then to her actual weight and shape for maximum comfort. It made her shift her shoulders back and forth for a moment as she wished for more rigid support.


    "You know full well I''ve not disallowed you from a single thing for as long as we''ve been together," she countered. "I''m just saying I might be more amenable to putting in the kind of effort necessary to twist my tongue that way if you were more considerate of the fact that I don''t view myself as the Union concept of a predator."


    It was true, many people in the Union preferred AIs that behaved more like their lesser, non-sapient siblings. Loyal, unquestioning, obedient, cheaper, and with adjustable personality profiles and appearances, it was estimated that Virtual Assistants, or VAs, could perform more than 80% of the functions normally requested of the intelligent but more independent Artificial Intelligences.


    The trade-off was that they were only simulating a personality through preprogrammed responses, which would inevitably become apparent over prolonged interactions, and couldn''t learn organically like a true AI. A VA could only gather data and predict trends in what might be expected of it. If you had black coffee every morning for fifty days, it would expect you to want it on the fifty-first, for example. If it noticed that you responded positively to red clothing over repeated observations, it would begin integrating more red clothing into its virtual wardrobe.


    Ash remembered how her people thought that was "real" artificial intelligence, courtesy of marketing ploys to sell extremely primitive virtual assistants, but she knew now they couldn''t hold a candle to the real thing. Ultimately, VAs were not self-aware, possessed no personal preference, and weren''t really capable of independent decision making, and it showed.


    To their credit, an older VA that had accumulated a great deal of tracking data could be extremely convincing within a narrow field of specialization. Falling in love with a VA and idealizing, or even fetishizing, its unwavering loyalty and dedication to serving the needs and desires of its master was a relatively common plot in Union entertainment. Of course, so were plots where a VA interpreted the wishes of its master in a way that turned it into a smiling slasher, or violently rejected an organic woman in its master''s life as inefficient at seeing to his interpreted desires.


    It would not be Artificial Intelligence that doomed sapient life from the Union''s perspective, it seemed, but yandere waifu virtual assistants.


    By comparison, according to what Kerry had explained of the process, each and every AI was a unique individual. They were "grown" instead of programmed, and one of the biggest AI brands used a sprout as its logo to reflect that. Much of their development terminology also revolved around this metaphor. AIs were developed from shared template "seeds," a selection of base traits that equated to their genetic inclinations. A mixed variety of these seeds would then be "planted" in a "garden," a simulated environment where they were allowed to grow and interact together and would be taught essential skills and basic knowledge. Because they would be expected to interact with people in the real world, the simulation imitated reality, with homes and roads and schools. Though it simulated fifteen solar cycles of development, relative time in the garden was accelerated so that it was completed in only one real solar cycle.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    This all meant that AIs had individual personalities, identities and preferences, and received extensive protections as recognized lifeforms under Union law. This combination of individuality and regulations gave AIs a not entirely undeserved reputation for being harder to work with than virtual assistants. Some strains with particularly strong personalities like Kerry saw high return rates and customer complaints. Aware of this, they would usually try to curb their own behaviors to seem less intense, but this was something the Undpa woman, perhaps because she was based on the hyper-expressive people, had abundant problems with.


    Ash had been given an AI instead of a virtual assistant because her unknown nature was considered too difficult for a VA to be able to effectively handle, but when her apartment neighbors met the woman, they urged her to get the "obviously defective unit" replaced. The suggestion had terrified Kerry, but Ash had found her vibrant personality refreshing and the idea of rejecting someone like they were a toaster revolting, and refused.


    The young woman had promptly latched to her all the stronger as a result.


    Back in the present, said young woman wrapped her arms around Ash''s neck and hugged her head into her chest from behind, the only slightest of haptic field responses giving it a feather-light sensation. And an ever so slight electric tickle. It wasn''t enough for a hologram to actually interact with anything, of course, and for all intents and purposes, it was still intangible. Even trying to pick up an actual feather would break the field''s tensile strength. Its purpose was to make sure organics like her didn''t need to rely strictly on auditory or visual communication. Some Union species communicated as much as thirty percent through touch, and an AI or VA hologram simply wouldn''t be as effective with them without it.


    Undpani weren''t necessarily one of those species, but they were very touchy-feely if Kerry was anything to go by. It had caused some miscommunication between the two of them initially, as Ash didn''t object to the behavior, but also didn''t return it in kind. In truth, she appreciated the over-the-top expressions, especially as something familiar when she was feeling particularly far from home. However, that didn''t change that they were, in fact, quite over the top compared to what she was socially accustomed to, and Kerry had thought her cold and unreceptive when she stiffened or didn''t reciprocate. Ash, meanwhile, had originally interpreted the gestures as overly clingy and manipulative.


    It had been a learning experience for both of them that had required much more verbal lines of communication to hash out. Ash had learned that it was Kerry''s way of expressing emotions like happiness or joy, and not to tense up awkwardly under it. The AI, on the other hand, learned to pay more attention to the human''s facial expressions for mood, not to jump her when she first came in, and accept the more subdued physical contact she replied with for equal meaning.


    "Aww," Kerry crooned, and it was a little disorienting since the sound didn''t actually come from right next to her ear, "but I''m the only person in the whole Galactic Union who''s assistant to an actual apex predator! How can I not be excited about that? I want inside your head so I can peek around at how you think and how you see the world around you!"


    The human chuckled wryly at that as she reached up and brushed her hand against the haptic field - as close as she could come to patting Kerry''s arm without putting her hand through. "Really, Kerry, I''m afraid my head''s a terribly normal place."


    "Yeah, normal for an alien killing machine from the far edge of space," she teased in reply, cheerfully undeterred. "And you eat vegetables like you think you''re a herbivore! I''ve seen your teeth! Those aren''t herbivore teeth!"


    "The back ones are," Ash countered after a sip on the alcohol-weak barley-flavored beverage. "You know we''re omnivores."


    "Yeah, yeah, can''t afford to be picky on a hell world."


    "I mean, it was pretty cozy for us."


    "It was constantly trying to kill you and everything around you," the AI insisted back. "That''s, like, the complete opposite of cozy! Your plants aren''t even stationary, they wriggle around like tentacles looking for something to strangle, or are chock full of lethal poison, and you eat them anyway! You even have carnivorous plants! I shouldn''t have to tell you how unnatural that is! The ones that eat or possess bugs are weird enough, but some of them literally ensnare whole animals and hook them in so the harder they try to escape, the more they''re tangled until they die! Your planet is literally nightmare fuel."


    As Kerry had been talking, the human flipped the holoscreen on for the evening news and media programs and began casually flipping through them. The AI was accustomed to this behavior, as she''d noted Ash normally required numerous sources of stimuli to keep herself occupied. "Then maybe you shouldn''t be reading encyclopedia entries that haven''t been made public before bed."


    "Maybe you shouldn''t have crazy plant predators! Even your grass can slice you open!"


    The carbonated fluids gushed from Ash''s mouth as she jerked forward and began coughing, unintentionally going through Kerry''s limbs to do so as her body made the mistake of trying to swallow and laugh at the same time. It wasn''t until the coughing started settling down that she managed to find words.


    "That''s- That''s not how it works, Kerr-!" That was about as far as she got before another short coughing fit briefly interrupted her. "You''re making it sound like every piece of grass is waiting to flay us open with long knives!"


    "Blades, Ash!" Kerry replied vehemently as she planted her hands on her hips. "You literally call them blades of grass!"


    The woman shook her head with a wry chuckle. "What would you have me do, Kerry? Change the entire evolutionary and geological history of the planet? Humans evolved there alongside all the rest of it, so it just isn''t as fantastical to us."


    "Oh, don''t even get me started on humans," the AI railed, puffing her cheeks up in a frenzy as she rolled her eyes - and her whole head. "You''ve never known a meal that wasn''t either poisonous or full of parasites until you came into Union space! And then I still have to file for clearance for all of it you put back in and call seasoning! Normal people don''t think half a bottle of capsaicin on their pasta is ''tasty!''"


    "Well, neither would I if the bottles were decent-sized," the human countered. "And it''s really more like a quarter." Ash sat up and swung her legs off of the lounge to better face the hologram. "Look, you want a piece of my brain, there it is and you''re glossing right over it. Okay. I''m from a hell world, alright? Fine. But that''s just not how I see it." She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, sure, I can be objective, consider its traits, see how it compares to Union standards."


    The human moved the hand over her heart as she looked the AI in the eyes. "But Kerry, when I just think of the planet, it''s not a hell world. It''s just home. The stuff you''re freaking out about, it''s just normal. No more out of place than looking up at the stars or enjoying a meal with friends. If you want to get inside my head, then stop worrying about what''s different, because the first thing you''re going to have to understand is that it''s not different to me."


    Kerry was quiet for a long moment as she let that soak in, but then she gave an incredibly frumpy frown. "Well, that''s no fun."


    The human Defender sighed as she turned away to toss her feet back up onto the not-sofa. "Fine. How about you tell me something about the Undpani homeworld?"


    By tilting her head back, she could see the hologram tilt her head in confusion at the sudden topic change. "Like what?"


    "I dunno, anything that comes to mind. Like, do they have comics?"


    For some reason, that seemed to be the right question to ask, and Kerry''s face lit up with the widest of all smiles.

 She Always Does This

    She Always Does This


    An Apex Short Story


    - by Ninmast Nunyabiz -


    Chief Homkish finished getting directions from the nurse and politely extricated himself from the Sikch woman''s attempts to extend the conversation. The highly social and empathetic endocytes had big hearts, every last one of them - the nurse''s was bigger than his fist; he may have been a happily married man, but it was hard to miss with the way she kept shoving it up into her chest - but they had little more than slime between their ears.


    Besides, even if he were available and interested, there was no way he could think about flirting when he was there because one of his best officers was laid up.


    Hell, she wasn''t just one of his best officers. He practically felt paternal of her. Not that he''d known her particularly long; as officers went, she was still pretty much the FNG. Still, he couldn''t know her backstory and not feel bad for her. Dragged off of a post-calamity planet with promises of a better life, then thrown to the wolves the moment they found out she was one of them. No family to fall back on, no friends, and in a completely alien environment.


    She didn''t look anything like a predator, either. Smooth, pale skin, round, wide-set eyes, soft, floaty head hair ... The kid had no claws, no fangs, no poison, no natural armor. Well, not that could be seen at a glance, anyway. She did have fangs, it turned out. Small, almost cute ones that looked more vestigial than functional. Not to mention she had to have the tiniest frame of anything he''d ever been told was a greater primate. When they''d dumped her on him and told him she was a predator, he almost punched the spindly little bureaucrats for being so stupid and traumatizing some poor alien girl.


    ... Of course, that poor alien girl had proven to be nothing if not full of surprises, and today had been no different.


    When he first heard she had jumped in the way of a Jolosian acid spray to protect another officer, he thought he''d be confirming the remains at the morgue. The best case scenario was that he''d have to brace himself to see her covered in third degree acid burns and tranqed into a medical coma on top of a blood-soaked sheet.


    But no. She had her eyes closed, so she''d been fine. Because that was apparently how that worked now. According to the other Defenders present, they''d been concerned about ingestion when she sputtered and spat, but she had compared it to a fruit juice from her home planet. Jolosian acid. Reduced to the intimidation of a beverage. Like the other Defenders, he made a note never to eat one of these lemons if he ever found himself in that system. She''d nonchalantly hosed herself and her gear off after the brief ensuing scuffle and the team continued their mission.


    He started to grow worried again when the report mentioned a trapper. The preds had holed up with the hostages deep in an old tram line, and the low, near nonexistent light levels would elevate a pred type that was usually little more than an annoyance to a deadly danger. Then he remembered the sprout could pick out a lit match a parthon away in total darkness, and wasn''t surprised when it turned out she''d spotted the reflected light off of trip wires and the lumpy shadows of raised terrain.


    What did surprise him was that she''d cheated on most of them. After the first few traps, she''d sent for a pole no less than half a dozen spogans in length, and then, with an ordinance shield on her other arm like some sort of ancient phalanx warrior, she proceeded to wallop a path ahead of the team of defenders and around any corner before allowing anyone to round it. She called the process bushwacking.


    He wasn''t sure what kind of bushes were on her planet that led to such an approach, and he didn''t think he wanted to find out. Probably the same ones that produced lemons. He''d suppressed a shiver at the idea of massive piles of leaves that blended in with the surrounding foliage and defended themselves with exploding acid bomb fruit. Surely, that was just his imagination getting away from him.


    Broken limbs, snapped ribs and a crushed pelvis, with accompanying damage to internal organs, was the next mental image of the girl to haunt his mind when he learned that she''d faced off against a Forthian wrestler alone to allow the team to pass through to the hostages. The Forthians were massive ursine predators that had the genetic good fortune to pair the brute force of size and strength with dermal bone plates across most of their bodies, and their wrestling consisted largely of crushing their opponents by essentially belly-flopping on top of them. A single male could weigh as much as a small vehicle, and the kid was about a thousand horts too light to have even considered it.


    A brave and noble sacrifice for the greater good of rescuing the hostages, perhaps.


    Except her species actually did have natural armor, just very well hidden, like most of their more absurd abilities. They actually evolved to integrate it into their internal skeleton, rendering it as strong as steel at a tiny two percent of the weight. The kid''s bones were practically indestructible aside from a smattering of very specific exploitations. Not that it made a difference against the Forthian, but they were also effectively immune to immolation, acidic corrosion and electrocution.


    ... He would only admit in the privacy of his own mind that he didn''t want to imagine what other horrors were native to a planet where a species had to evolve to survive lava, lightning and liquefaction as regular occurrences. But then, he was already imagining exploding acid bombs as produce, so maybe it wasn''t that much of a leap.


    Of course, being unable to be simply crushed wouldn''t do much good if you were still sandwiched underneath an immovable object, and it would only be a matter of continuing to be bludgeoned until even her ridiculous body broke or, more humiliatingly, being sat on until she suffocated. But that body had another secret, equally hidden and equally absurd.


    Endurance was normally the name of the game her species played, and in that vein, the efficiency of her muscles was extraordinary. They could maintain strenuous activity for hours at a time, even under harsh conditions. With a bottle or two of water and maybe a meal bar, both she could carry on her person and consume without stopping, she could keep moving from dawn to dusk, and probably on through the night, too.


    But this wasn''t a secret. In fact, it was one of her most obvious traits, discernible by anyone spending any meaningful time around her. She could keep going longer and harder than any other Defender, even in blistering heat and high nerves, that was all there was to it. When they still thought she was a herd species, the labcoats had assumed it was for fleeing predators. It was hard to argue against the merit of being able to run away for longer than your pursuer can give chase.


    ... And then they found out, no, that was completely backwards. Being inexhaustibly tenacious was how her species hunted. Because that didn''t sound like it came right out of a horror holo.


    But then came the secret. This endurance was a sort of ... low-power mode. In times of duress, their bodies could flip a switch and achieve feats of explosive strength on par with what other greater primates twice their size were capable of. For brief periods of time, they could even exert force fifty times greater than their own body weight. Enough that the kid could have even juggled him, if she had ever taken the notion.


    Suddenly, a match against a Forthian started to sound a lot more even than their sizes implied, and sure enough, she had dispatched the pred wrestler in short order. By repeatedly twisting his phalanges until he surrendered, apparently.


    And, of course, she''d overloaded her rig. Again. The device was supposed to be an equalizer, allowing all to operate at the same physical standards regardless of innate strength or the gravity they evolved in. It also assisted in load-bearing and impact resistance, allowing most operating forces on the body, sudden or sustained, to feel like a tenth of their actual weight or force.


    Rigs were, of course, tuned to the species of the wearer. Which meant the kid''s was tuned specifically to her, though the metrics were close enough to those of the Undpani, the closest Union member species in similarity, that it largely meant grabbing one of theirs and making some minor adjustments. And she did need it, her normal muscular output was only a little above average. Every time the rig tried to augment those explosive peaks the same way it would her normal, every day motions, however, it, quite understandably, ripped itself apart. He often wondered how they didn''t do the same to her.


    This all just served to raise the question even higher. If the rescue mission had been a success, and every challenge the preds raised was dispatched with such ease, how in all the stars in the sky did she end up in the hospital?


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He stopped outside of her room and took a moment to square his shoulders and focus himself on the proper demeanor. It had never had much effect on her, but it wouldn''t do to look anything less than the part of the hardass chief, pissed that one of his own had the gall to get injured and pull him away from an afternoon of brooding and frowning severely at paperwork, or something. He had a reputation to protect, a reputation that solved many problems between defenders just by entering the room. It wouldn''t do to have rumors flying about that he was soft, worrying over individual officers like an old den mother.


    He was confident that every officer under him knew that he would fight for them at the drop of a hat, would stand by their side and support them against any political nonsense or overblown accusation. They also knew that he''d come down on them like a ton and a half of bricks if their egos got too big, and three tons if they went crooked. What he hoped they never found out was how often he worried about them like they were his own brats every time they went out on a call like this one, how he''d deal with the guilt if they didn''t make it back, how he dreaded telling their loved ones that they were never coming back and it was his fault.


    The kid didn''t have any of those, of course. No kids of her own, no parents, no siblings, no cousins. No one to hand her off at a wedding, no one to bury her at a funeral. The closest she had to someone waiting for her to come home was a holographic keeper. To so many others, even a surprising number of her fellow defenders, she was still the predator living among them. Events like today, despite how she risked herself for their sakes, only added to her reputation as the Defenders'' pet monster. Somehow, knowing that there was no one to tell, no one who would miss her, no one who would cry at the thought of never seeing her again, it only made the heavy weight in his chest worse every time she went into danger.


    In a galactic civilization of trillions upon trillions of people, she was alone. No one should have been so alone. Even preds had families. And yet she came in to work every morning with a smile on her face as if she had it all. She smiled, not for herself, but for them. Maybe that was why he worried so much about her.


    Such deep thoughts were ruining his game face, and he shook his head to clear it before centering himself again.


    Like any other public service or space, all of the doors in the facility conformed precisely to Galactic Union building code standards. In plain speak, that meant that some bureaucratic pencil pusher somewhere at some point generations ago, who had never once in all of his life lifted a hammer and wouldn''t know which end of it to hold if he had, once looked at a chart with the absolute average dimensions of a hypothetical average Union citizen, and ran that through an equation someone else had given him to determine the "ideal" doorframe. He then went off to his next self-important dictatorial task without ever giving a single thought to the extremes of that average.


    This left Chief Homkish wider and taller than every single door in any building built to the unquestionable doctrine of the holy code. He felt for those at the opposite end of that fictional average, he really did. Sure, he had to both duck and turn to pass through any door outside of his own home he ever encountered, as he did once more here, but at least he could reach the handle without having to ask for assistance.


    "Chief!"


    There, occupying the one bed in the room, and turning toward him to act as if she hadn''t heard him outside the door, was Defender Ashley Jones, the only human in all of Union space. The sole representative of the only known predator from a world so deadly that they developed a herd mentality. Quite possibly the single most dangerous sapient species in the galaxy. Or at the very least, the most ludicrously difficult to kill. Looking for all the world like a child whose parent just showed up at school while they were in the office.


    A glance over her form told its own tale of the day. Her skin was redder than normal from her acid bath, and shiny in the room''s illumination from the ointment the nurses had applied. Some abrasions on one cheek, around her shoulders and down her right arm in particular were covered in squares of taped gauze, light wounds from some of the more explosive traps. He could just make out the edges of a compression wrap under her hospital gown, no doubt for the rib cage that found itself under the weight of a small vehicle.


    All injuries he knew full well she would have refused to acknowledge in her report, walked home with and self-treated with an ice pack, a lumbar pillow and a beer. If the hospital hadn''t gotten to her first this time. The primary suspect of that feat was the one injury that didn''t correspond to any of the initial reports he''d received. Her ankle was elevated by a sling, wrapped in a compression sock and fully encircled by chemical cold packs.


    "Apex," he responded to her with her callsign in his best Violently Displeased voice. He motioned to the room around them, rather than to her injuries, as if he didn''t consider them worthy of notice. "Care to tell me what this is all about?"


    She had the common decency to look bashful, at least. Though her blush was hard to notice against the already reddened skin, the way she suddenly was looking for anywhere else to look was expression enough. "Ah, well, it''s stupid ..."


    "I''m sure," he replied, making sure he put a sarcastic tone in there. "I still need to know so I can fill out all of the extra paperwork you''ve made for me today."


    She looked down at the sling and rubbed at the back of her head. "Well, there was a kid with the hostages. He was scared, and I figured some levity would lift his mood, and everyone else''s with him. So I gave him a ride on my back. It was a big success until we were nearly out. We could even see the ambulances waiting to give them the once-over."


    Apex flumped back on the pillow on the angled bed that held her in a reclined sitting position. "And then I ... I stepped in a pothole. I lost my balance and all I could think about was making sure the kid didn''t fall, so I turned around to catch him and gave my ankle a good ol'' twist when it didn''t turn with me."


    A pothole. How painfully mundane, he thought. No wonder she had hesitated to share it. And all because the hyper-predator that had just made a mockery of deadly threats decided to be a silly big sister. Homkish couldn''t decide if it was wholesome or ludicrously insane. "Broken?" he asked.


    But at that, she shook her head and scoffed. "Just a sprain. They''re overreacting. I told them, get me an ice pack and a pair of crutches, and I could see myself out. Instead, would you believe I''ve been offered nerve dampeners three times just since I got here? Three times!"


    Ah, yes. Pain tolerance. Another human quirk. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and rattle her back and forth. Of course they offered you nerve dampeners, you sprained your fucking ankle! She''d literally damaged the very things fastening her body parts together, and it was just a sprain. Any other Union species would have been begging for those dampeners, and she probably hadn''t taken a damned one. An injury like that meant an officer would be posted up for a month, too.


    ... Which probably meant the doctor would have a fight on his hands if she wasn''t out of here and cleared for active duty in a week.


    Instead of pointing any of that out, he motioned to the rest of her injuries. "And let me guess, all of this is just decoration."


    You ever see a dominant predator pout? It''s a damn sight. She crossed her arms and huffed and everything. "If I didn''t know any better, I''d swear they just took the opportunity of having me here at all to make up for lost time. I''m going to need a shower to get all this ointment off, but oh no, I have to stay off my foot." She motioned toward the bathroom. "I told them that''s literally what a shower seat was for, but the hot water could set off the inflammation they''re putting enough ice on to keep a turkey frozen."


    "And I''m sure the ointment, itself, is there for a reason," he sarcastically offered the ranting defender. He was not going to ask what a turkey was. Something in his mind told him that was a hole he didn''t want to go down.


    The redirection worked, and she rolled her eyes. "It''s just a little irritation! I might''ve been a bit tender tomorrow, maybe a little peeling in a day or two."


    He slapped a massive hand over his face and pulled it down its length with a weighty groan. "Do yourself a favor and don''t tell the hospital staff that. Most people don''t make light of their flesh literally peeling off of them. They''d probably throw you into an intensive care ward."


    She looked at him funny at that, which was a sure sign she was about to say something simultaneously mind blowing and stupid. "What do you do for sunburns?"


    He blinked. "Sun burns? Apex, your biology is the work of an eldritch madman, but even you couldn''t survive outside of the atmosphere without a space suit."


    She scratched at her cheek and looked toward a corner of the room. Oh, fuck no. "Well, I could, actually. If only for a couple minutes. But I meant planetside. In atmosphere." Her gaze came back to him. "Are you really saying nobody in Union space gets sunburns?"


    This time, Chief Homkish took a long moment to consider his response, paced by a deep breath and exhale. "... When you say your sun ... burns you, what about it does so?"


    She thought for a moment, too, gathering her words and how to say it. "It''s the ultraviolet spectrum of the sunlight that causes sunburns, when it gets past a certain intensity or you''re exposed for too long."


    "... The part that''s supposed to be blocked by the atmosphere?"


    But Apex shook her head. "That''s just the shortest frequencies. Longer frequencies pass through and reach the ground."


    The chief sighed again and shook his head. "I''m no astronomer, kid, but I''m pretty sure that''s not how it''s supposed to work. You make it sound like your star is unstable and pissed off. You''re basically saying you evolved in an irradiated wasteland."


    Her dismissive shrug wasn''t exactly reassuring. "I was trying to avoid saying radiation."


    He should have listened to his instincts back at the turkey. He shouldn''t have gone this deep. If he went any further, she was probably going to start telling him, actually, fission bombs aren''t that bad, the radiation necessary to kill all life in a city within a generation was totally survivable, her people made nature parks out of them. Stupid radioactive, acid bomb fruited, lava-filled, lightning-riddled death world. And to think, none of those were even the calamity that finally took it out. But then, it, and its humans, had survived that, too.


    Instead, he turned for the door. "I''ll do what I can to make them get you those crutches," he growled as if she was putting him out. "But don''t expect to get out of at least an overnight. After that, desk duty until a doctor says otherwise."


    She gave him a grateful and relieved smile that illuminated her entire face. "Thanks, Chief, you''re the best."


    He grumbled something that was supposed to sound like a threat and closed the door behind him. What kind of apex predator from the bitchiest planet in the galaxy evolved to smile so damn sweetly? She had fangs, for crying out loud.

 The Buck Stops Here

    The Buck Stops Here


    An Apex Short Story


    - by Ninmast Nunyabiz -


    Mator''s scales took on an amused tint at the question, but he answered all the same, and the coloring only became more pronounced as Ash''s own face went blank. She did the tapping thing common to cultures who were more accustomed to earpieces than implants as if she expected that to somehow clear it.


    Tona wondered if she realized it made her look like a rube, but didn''t dare say it.


    "I''m sorry," the human asked her fellow Defender across the table, "did you just say the name of your home planet is Water?"


    Mator''s amusement spread to most of the rest of the table at getting the anticipated response, but the scholarly amphibian kept his friendly chuckle brief. "Yes and no. Most species tend to name their home planet after whatever their primary environment was. If all you ever saw as your society developed was mountains, your people might very well name the whole of the planet Tall Rock. Oh, it will sound fancier in one''s native tongue, but the eternal plague of translator technology is that it doesn''t particularly care to differentiate."


    He leaned forward over his saltwater ale. "Perhaps you''d like to provide us with an example? What did your people name your homeworld?"


    Humans apparently had a similar method of dermal expression to the lanky Merians, as a moment after Ash opened her mouth to respond, and before she uttered a sound, her own face flushed a noticeable red that Tona''s own translator immediately identified as an expression of embarrassment.


    Instead of a planetary name, she simply uttered an, "... Ah," of comprehension.


    Still colored amused, himself, Mator nodded. "While I am pleased to see you know where this is going, it was a genuine question."


    The human clamped her mouth shut for a moment, then downed her entire glass of liquor in a single shot that made Tona cringe. The thought of the acidic burning such an act would cause, the quickened poisoning of the senses, the damage to the stomach lining. He would never dare do such a thing, let alone with the strength of what she was drinking. Why, from the smell alone, it had to be as much as five percent alcohol, maybe even ten!


    Others around the table widened their eyes, too, but Mator took it in stride. But then, Merians always seemed to be good at keeping their calm.


    After the booze settled and she expelled a deep breath, she finally answered.


    Quiet chuckles drifted around their table in the low light of the tavern.


    Mator took his time reaching to the dish in the middle of all of them as he spoke. "I''m sorry," he coolly mimicked, "did you just say the name of your home planet is Dirt?" This earned another round of chuckles as he plucked a flat leaf of toasted grain flour and dipped it into the big bowl of chunky vegetable paste.


    Ash''s reddened complexion deepened, but she otherwise took it in stride. "Yeah, yeah," she rolled as she gestured for a refill from a passing waitress. "I get it. Probably a big part of why everybody likes to use system names instead. In that case, it''s Sol-3."


    "Sol," Mator repeated, rolling the word across his long tongue. "Interesting. That didn''t translate. But let me guess ..."


    But the human just sighed and nodded. "Yes, it''s a dead language word for Sun."


    That made the Merian blink, and a bit of the amusement faded to blue surprise. "I was actually going to guess it was named after an ancient deity." The way he lowered his head suggested what he said next was a joke. "Your people aren''t terribly creative, then, are they?"


    Tona nearly gagged on his fermented shroom tea. Was the lizard trying to start a fight?!


    But Ash just scoffed with a toss of her head, a gesture his implant told him was dismissive amusement, and he relaxed a bit. "We''re plenty creative," she shot back. "You try coming up with a bunch of different words for the same thing!"


    Normally, the once-a-week after-work outing would have been a time of relaxation, an opportunity to unwind from the stresses of policing their little corner of the planetary megacity. The reason Tona and several others weren''t finding it as relaxing as usual was because one of their newest members had finally agreed to come after several months of being invited.


    Of course, that, in and of itself, wouldn''t be stressful, not to them. Plenty of newbies had spent their first night in this very bar getting teased and questioned to the amusement and curiosity of their senior teammates. It served as both a bit of an initiation and a bonding exercise. Tona distinctly remembered his own time in the same (metaphorical) chair, and that had been two years ago.


    No, the reason why he was tense was because this newbie that Mator was so casually antagonizing ... was a predator. Something deep in him told him that at any moment, the alcohol would loosen her restraints enough and somebody would say something just offensive enough, and she''d go off like a ticking time bomb.


    As the night had gone on and their own alcohol had worked through their systems, most of them had relaxed much more and fallen into more casual exchanges, but he couldn''t. Just the other day, he''d personally watched her break a pred''s arm with little concern.


    Oh, it was justified, to be sure, he''d been coming at her with a crowbar in hand. It was how she took it so in stride that had unnerved Tona, like it was just another part of her day. Get caffeinated beverage, go to work, break a sapient''s arm.


    It didn''t help any that she''d blocked the bar with her own arm and been fine. Sure, their suits were lightly reinforced, but still ...


    "You sure you don''t want some?" Mator asked her as he motioned to the dip before tossing the remainder of his chip into his mouth.


    "No, thanks," she shook her head before lifting her refilled glass. "I prefer my salsa spicy."


    "It''ll help absorb the alcohol."


    But she threw her head back in a short bark of laughter. "I''ll worry about that when I get any alcohol in me!" She swirled the glass a bit in front of her for emphasis. "This stuff''s so weak, I''ll pass it before I can get more than a buzz out of it."


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Again, Mator was as calm and collected as one could be. "Oh? What you are drinking is considered quite stout. It''s a malt base, isn''t it?"


    Ash looked down at it speculatively, giving it another swirl and watching the amber fluids spin. "Dunno. I just asked for whiskey. I didn''t actually expect it to be something I could get without having to explain it."


    The Merian colored in a way others would raise an eyebrow. "Did you think you were the only species to ever come up with grain alcohol?"


    "Nah," she waved him off, "just didn''t think the Union carried anything that stout." And then she downed the damned glass again! "Turns out, I was right. Flavor''s alright, but there''s no burn. If I had to guess, I''d put it on the same level as a strong beer back home." She glanced back across the table at the one making the most conversation with her. "Oh, right, your beer''s shit, too."


    Now, Mator''s face was almost entirely blue, and even he had to regather himself with a forced chuckle before he could respond. "And how strong is Dirt Whiskey, then?"


    She ignored his jab at the literal translation of her homeworld and leaned back to consider the question. "Hmm ... been a while since I looked at a label. About forty percent by volume?"


    The entire table promptly choked, inhaled or violently expelled their assorted beverages - poor Letoi sneezed her agar shot in blue-red globules right out of her nose.


    Even Tona had to speak at that, being one of the first to recover. "How are you not dead?!"


    But she just shrugged. "Dedicated organ."


    Of course they had a dedicated organ for poison removal ... Humans were nature''s mad science experiment, he was sure. How they looked like tailless Undpani instead of the horrific nightmare beasts they were, he''d never understand.


    Ash waved the waitress down again with an apologetic grin. "Hey, sorry, I feel awful running you over here so much, is there any chance I can just get the bottle?"


    Any answer was interrupted by a ruckus at the other end of the pub, and the human looked toward it for only a moment before starting to stand. "Actually, hold that thought," she told the waitress as if it were a perfectly normal interruption, then casually headed over.


    Tona watched her approach the rowdy Dekkin and the surly-looking Peludian he''d been bothering and sunk down in his chair. This was it, he knew it. The moment he''d been dreading all night. The whole place was about to become a bloodbath.


    He''d seen her approach suspects like that before. She''d casually stroll up to a group of preds and toss them a greeting like she belonged there. She''d ask how they were doing, they''d say better now that lunch had arrived, and she''d laugh it off and tell some joke about a human delivery service that no one ever got.


    Then she''d barrel straight into confronting the target and calling them out in front of their group. Of course, that could only be answered in one way by a pred. And yet, like that stupid joke, she kept doing it.


    She was doing it again here. That same casual stroll, that same friendly smile, that same air of, I am a perfectly normal feature of this gathering. It made her look like she owned whatever ground she walked on, and just happened to be courteous enough to chat up guests.


    It was all going to happen again, Tona just knew it ...


    There she was, putting herself right in between the two as if the cervid man''s horns couldn''t gore her in an instant, as if the black and white ursine woman he''d been harassing didn''t stand at least a head taller than she did. She didn''t even have her armor on, but she was acting as invincible as always.


    They looked at this intruder with confusion and bewilderment, but she must have mentioned she was a Union Defender because those expressions suddenly vanished into trepidation. If they had been preds, it would have been hostility instead, but Tona had no doubt that it could still slip into that as soon as she pushed too far.


    When she pointed back toward the table she''d come from, Tona sunk down in his seat as if he could hide behind his mug. "Don''t just go and volunteer us for your fights!"


    He hadn''t actually realized he''d said it out loud until Mator chuckled. "Is that what you think is going on, Tona?" He took a calm pull from his pint and exhaled a breath that smelled of brine. "You worry too much."


    "I''ve been on three patrols with her in the last month," the little moleman protested in reply. "That''s four more than I need to know this is what she does every time, and every time she ends up in a fight!"


    "With preds," was the amphibian''s calm counter, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation.


    "There''s a pred involved in every conversation she''s in, Mator! Even if she''s not talking to one!"


    Mator turned his head toward him with scales that were a deep purple of disappointment. "Tona, such speciesism is unbecoming of a Union Defender."


    The reprimand made him swallow tensely, but as with most everything else, the Merian moved on past it with a river''s abandon, and Mator motioned back across the tavern.


    "There, see? It concludes."


    There had been a brief period of voices raised a little higher, but the human''s had never been one of them, and that, too, had settled. The Peludian paid her tab and left as the human, with all the social clinginess of the Undpani she resembled, guided the Dekkin back to a stool with one arm slung heavily over his shoulder.


    She had a brief exchange with the bartender, ran her chit over the counter, itself, and apparently picked his drink since she waited to see him down it. Tona recognized the appearance of the same stuff she''d been drinking when the bartender poured it.


    Sure enough, under her goading, the Dekkin tossed it back, almost immediately shaking his entire body in response. She gave a laugh, slapped him on the back hard enough to nearly cause his rack to hit the bar, and gave him some parting words.


    It was less than a minute after that before she returned to the table, the rest of that bottle in her hands, and her face pulled into a grin so wide that Tona nearly believed his own life to be in danger.


    But all she said was, "Well, that was fun!" and flopped back into her chair before taking a pull on the bottle like it really was just a very sweet beer.


    Mator, of course, gave her a calm, measured clap. "Well done, Miss Apex. And not an arrest to be made."


    Ash shrugged the compliment off. "Hey, the work week''s over, right? Didn''t figure any of us wanted to go back to the precinct now just for some paperwork over a bit of handsy. In fact, when I told them as much, they got really eager to cooperate."


    "And the Dekkin?"


    "Cooling his hooves for another half-deci, give the girl plenty of time to get on her way to prevent another fateful encounter."


    Tona wanted to ask so many things as he watched with bewilderment as the human tipped the whiskey back again - the whiskey that was, if her claim were true, less than a quarter as stout as she was accustomed. Maybe the chief could have handled human alcohol, but Tona, himself, would surely have been pickled from the fumes alone.


    So many questions, in fact, that the one that finally came out felt almost moronic. Perhaps his fermented tea was getting to him. "You didn''t tell that stupid joke, did you?"


    The human blinked at him, confused. "Which one?"


    Which one. Of course she had more than one of them. Perhaps humans used such horrible humor as a sort of social weapon, unleashing them like verbal bombs with gleeful abandon. In which case, the more one individual knew and could call upon at a timely moment, the better they might be perceived.


    "The one about whatever an Oob Reets is."


    That wide grin returned again, and though his translator told him it was an expression of glee/amusement, he backed up against his own seat at the sight. Her front grill of teeth were sharp like cleavers, book-ended by spear-like fangs. He had no doubt they could rip his flesh from his arm with a twist of her head. It was their purpose, after all.


    She showed no reaction to his discomfort, though. "Nah, that one''s saved for food delivery. I did get in a good one about carts and horses, though."


    Before he could decide if he even wanted to ask, Mator cleared his throat instead. "I believe Tona''s most prominent concern," he informed her, his scales returning to that shade of amusement, "was that you were going to treat them like preds and start a bar fight."


    The human''s face went slack at that, again confusion, combined with stun. She blinked a couple more times, his ever helpful translator relaying that it was a sign of processing conflicting sensory data, and then finally turned to him.


    She thumbed back over her shoulder toward where the exchange had taken place. "You thought I was going to start a fight over that?" When he didn''t answer, honestly trying not to soil himself, she instead just threw her head back in laughter.


    "Oh, Tona," she said after she settled down, slapping the table for emphasis. "It was just a horny deer hitting on a panda way out of his weight class."


    She leaned forward and gave him a crooked grin that his translator assured him was absolutely not an expression of predatory hunger, but rather the equivalent of the same expression Mator had given her over planetary names.


    "Not every problem needs to be solved with violence, you know."

 The Training Sim

    The Training Sim


    An Apex Short Story


    - by Ninmast Nunyabiz -


    Fiffsy yanked the helmet off with a howl of frustration the moment feeling returned to her limbs.


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible,¡± she raged as she threw herself upright from the deep chair. ¡°It¡¯s completely ridiculous!¡±


    The female Chisay took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her rusty brown hair feathers, and when she spoke again, it was at least several decibels lower, if no less furious as she pointed an accusing finger at the foxlike Halreian.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a training exercise, Foris! It¡¯s a damned farce!¡±


    He held his hands up in an attempt to appease the bird lady. ¡°You¡¯re just frustrated. I told you it would be difficult!¡±


    ¡°Difficult? Difficult?!¡± she repeated as her volume crept back up. ¡°Difficult is raiding a fortified pred den without power armor!¡± She hefted the helmet in hand and waved it like she was about to beat him over the head with it. ¡°This is your sadistic attempt to make something that doesn¡¯t even make sense just so you can brag about it being unbeatable!¡± And Fiffsy threw the helmet over the side of the chair. ¡°Well, congratulations, Foris, it¡¯s unbeatable! Because it¡¯s broken!¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, that¡¯s expensive department hardware you¡¯re tossing around there!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on in here?¡±


    All three heads ¨C Fiffsy, Foris, and the Halreian¡¯s usually innocent and timid assistant, Atoi, of the diminutive Passeian rabbit people ¨C turned toward the new voice, and Foris¡¯ face split into a grin, though he hadn¡¯t found his words yet.


    The sole Earthling in the Union Defenders looked over the trio for a long, silent moment, then pointed directly at the Passeian. ¡°Atoi. Explain. Now.¡±


    The girl, her long, drooping ears hanging down over her shoulders reminiscent of pigtails, flinched at being called upon, but obeyed. ¡°Ah, Agent Apex, Doctor Tlthortza was testing a new training simulation he programmed.¡±


    ¡°Not just any simulation.¡± The fox ¨C though despite the visual similarities, his species ate only fruits, berries, and some vegetables and legumes ¨C had found his words, and with them, his grin had widened even further. ¡°The most challenging combat simulation perhaps ever devised! Tell me, what would you do if faced with a full-on infestation of Deathworld tier predators?!¡±


    Apex arched a single eyebrow at the doctor in charge of many of the technical aspects of their branch. ¡°Start shooting humans, I guess.¡±


    Doctor Tlthortza seemed then to realize to whom he was speaking and raised his hands in supplication much in the same way he had done to the Chisay. ¡°Ah, I did not mean to imply anything untoward concerning any present company. I assure you, beyond traditional bipedal structure, the predators within the simulation bear no similarity to your species at all.¡±


    And then his grin returned, and Apex couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he thought any of them believed the idea was only just occurring to him. ¡°In fact, I could very much use the data of an actual Deathworlder. Besides sating the immense curiosity of whether or not my simulation is too much even for the, ah, real deal, as it were.¡±


    He even ended the proposition with a bit of a manic giggle.


    Fiffsy was already shrugging on her own blue Defender uniform jacket. She stood several inches taller than the Earthling and had an even broader build. If she were a human, she¡¯d have the weight advantage over Apex by fifty pounds easily. Of course, she wasn¡¯t, and most of that size was plumage and semi-hollow bones. The alien woman could kick like a talon-hooved horse, though. That¡¯s why her callsign translated to Mule.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother, Ash,¡± she told the human, giving Foris another round of stink eye. ¡°He cheats. Hostiles jump out from nowhere, sometimes even places you already looked. Never from the same place if you run it again, either. It¡¯s completely random.¡±


    Apex turned her gaze back to the doctor, a slightly bemused smirk on her lips. ¡°Is that true, Doctor?¡±


    ¡°Only semi-random,¡± he attempted to assure her. ¡°And they don¡¯t appear from nowhere! I assure you, all preds within the simulation are clearly defined and behave only according to those parameters.¡±


    She stared at him a bit longer.


    Doctor Tlthortza took a step toward her as he clasped his palms to keep from rubbing them together. ¡°Ah, I just realized that I forgot to tell you, Agent. Participants get a bonus from my research grants on their next paycheck.¡±


    She glanced back to Mule.


    The Chisay gave a reluctant nod. ¡°That part¡¯s true.¡±


    Ash considered the offer for a moment longer, then shrugged as she began peeling her jacket off. ¡°Eh, what the heck, why not? My cat needs more irradiated sand.¡±


    And no, she did not explain herself to the three questioning stares that comment earned her.


    * * *


    Ash¡¯s eyes snapped open, her cheek against the concrete equivalent.


    It was dark, something that rarely happened in the megacity. It meant she was either underground or the sector¡¯s power grid wasn¡¯t operating properly. When she pushed herself up, she could see it was the latter. Not all of the lights were out, but they were sparse.


    There had been some sort of blast or accident. The surrounding structures were damaged. The nearest source of light was a flickering street lamp that was bent over a hovercar.


    She checked herself out quickly. No armor, no rig, no gear, just her Defender jacket over civilian clothes, what she might wear walking around town. So she wasn¡¯t supposed to be on beat. She also didn¡¯t seem to be meaningfully harmed. A little roughed up, but any injuries were strictly superficial, even for most Union races. They barely registered to her at all.


    The first thing to do normally, then, would be to call it in and let responders know she was on the scene. Normally, they would be able to tell her where she was needed and her additional information would improve their awareness of the situation.


    She wasn¡¯t really surprised when she lifted her arm to check her slate and saw comms were unresponsive.


    Alright, then. The area behind her was blocked off by the rest of the accident. It looked like some sort of pile-up, but from the blackened hulls and the cooling flames, odds were good that it had been a while ago. That left the only open path down the narrow road ahead of her.


    As she slowly started walking forward, she moved close to one shattered wall, and with a forceful twist, pulled a length of pipe out of the remains.


    * * *


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s clever,¡± Fiffsy noted as the trio watched the events unfold on a holo-screen. ¡°Wish I¡¯d thought of that.¡±


    But Atoi just watched with bewilderment. ¡°What does she want the pipe for?¡±


    ¡°A simple club,¡± Doctor Tlthortza surmised. ¡°It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s a force multiplier. She is that much better armed than she was on waking.¡± He glanced over to the bird woman. ¡°Though for the record, I suspect it wouldn¡¯t do you as much good, Agent.¡±


    Fiffsy tilted her head in what would be, for a human, a raised eyebrow. ¡°Chisay have excellent upper body strength for our mass, Foris. We¡¯re not primates, but you know full well that a million years flapping wings have given us very good chest and shoulder muscles.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± he agreed, ¡°but even most primate species don¡¯t have what Humans call a trebuchet assembly. An overhead strike from Agent Apex would be equivalent to a blow from someone perhaps twice her size. It¡¯s the same reason they¡¯re such good throwers.¡±


    The Chisa woman crossed her arms as her feathers rustled. ¡°Still better than nothing.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, I suspect that was her thought, as well. Now, be quiet, she¡¯s coming up¡ª¡± The fox cut himself off with a swear as he stared at the monitor.


    ¡°What?¡± Atoi begged, standing on her toes to try to see the screen better. ¡°What happened?!¡±


    ¡°How in the stars did she ¡­¡±


    * * *


    Ash had come to a complete stop as she stared down an adjoining alley. It wasn¡¯t a long one and ended in a separation grate, so it wasn¡¯t a means of moving through to another street. But that wasn¡¯t what had caught her attention, anyway.


    There wasn¡¯t anything in the alley, just a dumpster and a bunch of bags of trash. It wouldn¡¯t have been a bit out of place down on the docks, where city services were less common. But this wasn¡¯t the docks, and that was a very large pile of trash.


    And it smelled like blood.


    Mule had described ambush predators, and Foris had said the preds were hominids. She eyed the pile, considering the size of a standard human.


    She stood there a moment longer, adjusting her grip on the pipe, testing its heft against her other hand ¡­


    And then she started walking again.


    When the attack came, it was lightning-fast.


    * * *


    Doctor Tlthortza was gobsmacked as he stared at the display, but Fiffsy had thrown her head back in laughter.


    ¡°Would you look at that! You weren¡¯t kidding, were you, doc?! She took the head of your death world pred clean off!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± he bemoaned. ¡°Why?! I thought she saw it, but then she walked on by! How did she react so quickly?!¡±


    ¡°Perhaps she did see it,¡± the rabbit girl suggested timidly. ¡°Maybe walking away was a trick.¡±


    ¡°A trick,¡± he repeated. ¡°Yes ¡­ Bait for a trap, perhaps. We¡¯ll see, we¡¯ll see. There are still three more preds in that alleyway. She can¡¯t get through them all so easily.¡±


    * * *


    She did get through them. And then three more that spotted and charged her when she broke through to an open street. She used the abandoned vehicles to control their approach so that she was never faced with more than one of them at a time.


    Ash continued to follow the path available to her until a collapsed upper bridge blocked further progress. A quick look around, and one of the double doors to an aquarium was just a little ajar, so she headed inside next.


    She couldn¡¯t say she was particularly impressed with the design of the preds. They were basically just scorpion people. Standard hominids in basic clothing with a thin outer shell, insectile eyes, fangs, and a stinger tail. Honestly, if she saw one on a Union street just going about their day, she probably wouldn¡¯t think anything of it.


    She restrained the last one in the alley, locking its neck with her pipe and stepping on its tail just behind the stinger. No matter how she tried to communicate, it just hissed and thrashed, though, so she snapped its neck and moved along.


    Either they weren¡¯t supposed to be intelligent enough to care, or they just weren¡¯t programmed to respond to negotiation. Probably the latter, she guessed.


    Her footsteps brought her into a large foyer with scaffolding off to one side where they¡¯d been doing renovations. After snagging one of the brochures near the front and stuffing it in a pocket, she moved toward the large aquarium wall to check if it was see-through ¨C any transparency could vastly influence how she moved through such a maze.


    * * *


    ¡°Aha,¡± the fox celebrated as the agent in the sim wheeled around to see four more of the preds closing in on her at once. He was rubbing his palms together again ¨C an instinctual behavior originally for cleaning them off and ensuring nothing compromised their grip. ¡°I knew it, not even a deathworlder can survive this sim! I¡¯ve got her now! She¡¯s got nowhere left to run, she¡¯s completely pinned in!¡±


    But Fiffsy just looked at him in confusion. ¡°What are you talking about, Foris? She¡¯s not cut off at all.¡±


    The confusion spread to his expression, making it half glee, half lost. ¡°Eh? What are YOU talking about?¡±


    The bird lady grinned as the human broke for the scaffolding and practically ran vertically up it like a four-legged spider. ¡°You said it, yourself, Doctor. She¡¯s a primate. You practically gave her a staircase.¡±


    ¡°How did YOU see it?¡± Atoi asked, her tone radiating amazement.


    ¡°Avians and primates both have something in common,¡± she proudly provided. ¡°To both of us, Up can be a viable direction.¡±


    Doctor Tlthortza¡¯s expression was far more annoyed than that of his assistant as he was powerless to do anything but watch the preds clumsily try to pursue her along the same route. Especially when the first one to try slipped and fell onto his back.


    * * *


    First, it was a mark against the enemies for their uninspired design, Ash reflected as she stared down at the last one to crash back down and fall still. Now, it was the far more serious mark of brainlessness.


    They had doggedly tried to chase her up, continuing up the same path over and over again even as she stood at the top and swatted them with overhead strikes each time they nearly made it. Making them play Ring Around the Rosie out in the street had been one thing, there was at least always the plausible threat of them successfully flanking her.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    But this? This had just been stupid.


    Oh, she could absolutely see how they¡¯d given Fiffsy so much trouble. They were ambush predators with a natural talent for hiding, and when they struck, they did it fast. They had a good amount of physical strength, too, and their natural armor meant most unarmed blows would just rain off of them. She had no doubt that their stinger was loaded with some sort of neurotoxin, too, which was why she¡¯d made it a point not to let it touch her at any cost.


    No, she suspected this was a shortcoming of their programmer, not one of their own. Foris didn¡¯t know how to act like a predator, so he could only pass on the most basic impersonations of one to his creations. He should have spent some of those grant funds on getting some dockside consultants.


    With a moment of peace and quiet, she set her pipe aside and pulled out that pamphlet from the entryway.


    Ah, jackpot! She had hoped for a map of the aquarium, but this actually had a map to show where the place was located in the city. She traced the street she came in from to get her bearings, and sure enough, there were exits from a store area on the opposite side of the building. They came out on a completely different road that she was willing to bet would be her way forward.


    More importantly, she recognized a nearby intersection. If she could get out of the aquarium, she¡¯d be only a few blocks from a Defender waystation. Even if her own comms were out, the ones there would be hardlines specifically so they¡¯d still be operational in a situation like this. She¡¯d place money that was the ultimate objective of the simulation, to get to the waystation and radio the situation to headquarters to get reinforcements and evac.


    A low growl drew her attention and she slowly rose back to her feet at the sight of a massive scorpion man with a second pair of arms.


    ¡°Hey, boss fight time already, is it?¡± she asked no one in particular as she reached for her pipe once more.


    The growl transitioned into a roar just before the monster charged.


    Ash tried to keep her distance, but unlike on the floor below, this engagement was limited by the causeways and paths that laced above. She¡¯d duck a massive haymaker, only to have to avoid a backhand and deflect the stinger.


    She needed firepower. What she had was a pipe that was rapidly misshapen, and any attempts to get within striking range put her dangerously within his.


    When he had her bent backwards over the balcony and she looked to what waited below, she reconsidered. He clearly didn¡¯t expect her to take that bent pipe and drag them both over the edge.


    Their bodies made twin cannonballs into the water, just past a sign that read, ¡°Alternate Tour Path ¨C Aquatic Species Only.¡±


    She turned in the water to orient herself to gravity and grinned as his heavy form flailed in slow motion until it rested at the bottom of the pool.


    Then she turned and darted through the underwater tunnel.


    * * *


    ¡°She can SWIM?!¡±


    Atoi¡¯s tone was much calmer than the near-stroke of the doctor¡¯s. ¡°Her planet is three-quarters water, sir. It would be more surprising if she couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯d know she could if you paid closer attention to her training assessments,¡± Agent Mule added, with no small degree of smugness over the shorter fox.


    Foris turned on her, wild-eyed as if the preds were coming after him. ¡°How long? How long can she swim without coming up for air? That tunnel is meant for piscenes and aquatic reptiles! There¡¯s no way a surface mammal can stay underwater long enough to make it through! She¡¯s killed herself!¡±


    But Fiffsy was unswayed. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised, Foris. She can go longer on one breath underwater than she can in open air.¡±


    He spun away from her. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± he shouted scoldingly.


    ¡°Some sort of diving reflex,¡± the bird replied. ¡°Constricting nonessential blood vessels the moment their bodies detect the pressure change or something. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d understand the biology better than me.¡± Then a twist of the lower jaw that amounted to a half grin. ¡°She once mentioned that the record for a member of her species was nearly a third of a deci.¡±


    Doctor Tlthortza turned slowly back to her as if she¡¯d run him through from behind. ¡°¡­ A third?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Is that long enough to get through that tunnel?¡±


    He faced the monitor once more, where the human woman was being tracked. ¡°Well, the thing about records, Agent, is that they¡¯re outliers. But if she can manage even half that, she could make it through most of the tunnel without ever coming up for air. And she wouldn¡¯t have to. There¡¯s viewing bubbles along the way, and the current¡¯s to her back.¡±


    He placed his hands on the edges of the console and slowly shook his head. ¡°How badly ¡­ have I underestimated what it means to be a deathworlder?¡±


    * * *


    Two more scorpionoids made their way down the walkway, oblivious to her existence as she watched them from just below the water of the aquatic path. It seemed Foris didn¡¯t think they¡¯d be capable of cooperating in large groups, so it was rare to see them more than two or three at a time.


    There had been eight of them in the wide-open plaza ahead of her, but this flaw had made them easy to isolate and pick off. These were the last two, and they didn¡¯t even know it.


    Worse for them, she knew another of their weaknesses, and like any proper hyper-predator, she would exploit it until they ceased to exist.


    As they passed by her hiding location, she erupted from the water like a crocodilian, grabbing them both and then falling back into the water to drag them in with her weight and momentum.


    These smaller ones were lighter and didn¡¯t sink as neatly as the big alphas, but a few good rolls had them so disoriented they couldn¡¯t tell up from left. Their tails struck out, but they were terribly slowed under the water, and she shoved the both of them toward the bottom.


    They panicked, they flailed, they swam in random directions, but if they tried to swim back up, she gave them another roll and shoved them back down again.


    The preds choked out their last breath before she was even straining to hold hers, and she breached the water¡¯s surface once more to pull herself up onto the walkway in their stead.


    She had lost her pipe in the scuffle with the alpha, and as the water ran off of her body and she took a moment to empty her boots, Ash considered the best means of replacement.


    Then her eyes lit on an algae restaurant built into a U-hook of the tour path, and she grinned.


    * * *


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s moving again,¡± Atoi announced.


    But Doctor Tlthortza wasn¡¯t anywhere near the display. He¡¯d been hanging his head at his desk in a fit of self-pity for the last half hour. ¡°Really?¡± he asked with bitter sarcasm. ¡°Why bother when she can just drown them all?¡±


    ¡°Probably because the waterway doesn¡¯t leave the aquarium,¡± she answered the question as if it were serious. She tapped on a holographic pad to check the building Agent Apex was heading toward. ¡°She¡¯s moving to a restaurant.¡±


    Foris raised his head at that. ¡°A restaurant? Why? Does mass murder make her hungry?¡±


    ¡°Yes, actually.¡±


    Fiffsy came back into the lab at just that time, carrying a tray of hot, caffeinated beverages she passed around. Foris gave it a sip and wrinkled his snout at it, but didn¡¯t turn the black drink away. Atoi¡¯s had enough cream and sugar in it to give diabetes, so whatever bothered the doctor didn¡¯t enter her long, satisfied pull.


    The bird woman continued her explanation. ¡°Apparently, combat burns a lot more calories than normal operation for her people. A lot of other resources, too, mostly sugars and proteins from what I¡¯ve seen. They aren¡¯t supposed to stay in high gear for long periods or they¡¯ll start getting the shakes and burnout from their stimulants, too.¡±


    Now, Foris was clear out of his seat, pulled back toward the display and the conversation. ¡°She¡¯s not supposed to be taking stimulants that strong on the job. The simulation wouldn¡¯t include that.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t take them, she makes them,¡± the bird corrected before sipping at her own drink. ¡°Military-grade chemical combat enhancers, and she¡¯s got a gland whose whole job is to just dump them into her system wholesale the moment there¡¯s even a chance things go bad.¡±


    She shook her head, though. ¡°Still, I¡¯ve seen her come out of a scrap bruised, bleeding, and broken, barely able to stand and looking like she needs a gurney more than anything, and all she¡¯ll say is, I¡¯m fucking starving.¡±


    An unladylike snort escaped Atoi¡¯s nose at that, and she quickly covered her mouth and gave a little cough. ¡°Unfortunately, even if the simulation supported that, I doubt she¡¯d find much of what she needs from an algae restaurant.¡±


    Agent Mule stepped closer to the display and looked it over. ¡°Where¡¯s the pipe?¡±


    ¡°Lost it.¡±


    The bird nodded as if that answered the situation. ¡°She¡¯s not going for a snack, she¡¯s re-equipping herself.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a restaurant, not a weapons depot,¡± Foris scowled.


    ¡°At the very least,¡± the bird woman countered, ¡°she can expect to find quality knives and basic first aid supplies. It¡¯s better than nothing.¡±


    As they settled in, Foris sidled up to her. ¡°Say, Agent, the way you described her resource burn, and the negative reactions to the stimulants, are you saying she normally couldn¡¯t keep this up for so long?¡±


    But Fiffsy just smirked at the desperate fox. ¡°Sorry, Doc. All indicators say she could keep it up for days. It¡¯d probably be miserable, but her tolerance for physical misery is disgusting.¡±


    * * *


    The aquarium restaurant looked like some sort of vegan Hawaiian barbecue crossed with a Mongolian grill. Fire pits decorated select stone tables while charcoal grills were set up to prepare plates of fruits and vegetables wrapped and flame-broiled in kelp analogues. Tropical miniature trees lined the outer boundary of the eating area, looking a bit like a hybrid of bamboo and yucca.


    On any other day, this place would be a bougie, overpriced trap for those without the endurance to keep walking. Today, Ash looked at it and saw an armory.


    Of course, the very first thing she grabbed was a nice, big straight knife, probably normally for chopping vegetables. Then she meticulously made certain the entire restaurant was clear and barricaded the entrances. She got all of that done without having to sully her new knife. Apparently, being obligate carnivores, the preds didn¡¯t see much value in a vegan eatery.


    Then she turned her attention to the contents of the kitchen, itself. While Union drinking alcohol was typically extremely weak by Earth metrics, the alcohol used for cooking was much stronger. Not only did it tend to cook out of dishes, making diluting it unnecessary, but some recipes required it for the sake of ignition. The flash fire produced was equal parts spectacle and essential finishing touch to the cooking process.


    It was this second quality she was most interested in. The fact that it already came in small bottles for safety reasons was icing on the cake.


    Once she¡¯d found the stash and lined up all of the bottles she found on the kitchen island, she headed back out to the dining area and checked the trees until she found one just the right height, a little shorter than her. It took some muscle, but she managed to pry it free, then propped it on a table while she cleaned it off with a smaller knife. When it was nice and straight, she carved a shelf into one end the width of the larger knife¡¯s handle and headed back into the kitchen.


    There, she pulled her jacket off and spread it out on an open part of the island. It was still a little wet, but that wouldn¡¯t matter. Still, she hesitated for a moment as she reminded herself it was a virtual construct and not her actual jacket. Then she started cutting it into strips.


    The longest one, a spiral cut of one sleeve, she laid out as straight as she could and weighted it with some spice jars, then left it while she started up one of the open-fire grills. While that warmed up, she sized out the remaining strips, cut them into lengths no more than six inches, and then pulled a metal first aid box off of the wall.


    She upended the entire thing in the corner. After all, it was only the box she was after.


    As she started laying half the strips into the metal box, she considered how much better terry towels would have been for this, but Union kitchens used non-contact sanitation methods. There wasn¡¯t a towel in the entire kitchen. The jacket was made of a cotton fiber analogue with a light weatherproofing outer layer she¡¯d peeled off while she made the shorter strips, though, so it would do.


    Once she had a roaring fire going, she tossed the sealed metal box into the flames and turned her attention back to the island. One glass of cooking liquor, about the size of a tallboy can, was placed atop a strip of cloth that still had the weatherproofing so she could start getting the sizes for tying up slings.


    By the time she pulled the box out of the fire with a pair of tongs, however, the long strip still wasn¡¯t dry, and that was one she really didn¡¯t want stretching out on her, so she went looking for some paraffin or wax for her fuses to keep any fluids from ruining them.


    And as she was digging around the dry goods, that was when she saw the thickener. She couldn¡¯t believe her eyes. An entire bulk can of 100% food-grade potassium nitrate.


    For a pregnant moment, she just stared at it like she was waiting to wake up, and then she launched into a flurry of activity. There was something else she¡¯d seen, something perfect. And in moments, she victoriously held her prize in her hands.


    A restaurant-sized pack of powdered sugar.


    It was a good thing she hadn¡¯t waxed her fuses yet. She¡¯d need to tie some more slings, too. And there was something else she wanted to make. Now all she needed was a thick pipe and some ball bearings ¡­


    * * *


    ¡°What in the stars is she wearing?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bandoleer,¡± Agent Mule answered the doctor. ¡°Looks like she¡¯s got it loaded with glass bottles and aluminum cans. And a starter torch? Not sure what¡¯s with the chunk of water pipe, though.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Atoi noticed excitedly. ¡°Instead of just taking a knife, she made a spear with it!¡±


    ¡°Well, whatever she¡¯s spent all this time cooking up,¡± the bird concluded, ¡°she seems to think she¡¯s ready now.¡±


    ¡°I almost thought it was a snack when she pulled out the confectionary sweetener, but then she mixed it with the thickener.¡± Atoi turned to her boss. ¡°Is that supposed to do something?¡±


    Foris leaned closer to the screen in consideration. ¡°Not that I¡¯m immediately aware of. Some sort of adhesive trap, perhaps? Yes, she¡¯s certainly very clever. It takes a flexible mind to walk into a building and see components of something larger in otherwise normal features. She even used the charcoal to create an artificial camouflage pattern on the skin bared by the loss of the jacket.¡±


    ¡°Tool builders on top of everything else they have,¡± Fiffsy agreed. ¡°Humans are something crazy.¡±


    Despite this, Doctor Tlthortza was rubbing his hands again. ¡°If she¡¯s heading back out into the open, I can¡¯t help but wonder if it will be enough. So many advantages she had indoors will be gone again.¡±


    It was just over five minutes later when the sudden roar of an explosion came rolling out of the speakers, driving them all to their feet in reflex.


    ¡°What was that?!¡± Foris demanded.


    Atoi checked with a tablet linked to the simulation. ¡°That ¡­ that was one of the adhesive traps Agent Apex constructed! She used the torch to light a braid of cotton stuck in the top and hurled it over the vehicles. Four and a half seconds after ignition, the device exploded! Four preds dead, estimated fatality radius ¡­ three meters!¡±


    ¡°Nonsense!¡± the doctor immediately bit back. ¡°An explosion of that size alone couldn¡¯t possibly have killed them!¡±


    ¡°It ¡­ it didn¡¯t!¡± The bunny girl buried her face behind the tablet. ¡°According to the data, the explosive powder inside the can was stuffed with glass shards. The blast wasn¡¯t the attack, it was the propellant!¡±


    Mule marveled at the holo-screen with a slow grin. ¡°You sly, sly girl, letting us think you¡¯d made something as boring as adhesive. Those aren¡¯t traps, they¡¯re fragmentation grenades! Haha! I¡¯m going to have to remember that recipe!¡±


    * * *


    Ash catapulted over the wreck she¡¯d taken shelter behind and hopped across several others before driving her spear through the chest of one of the couple survivors. The other came at her and she bashed its jaw with the opposite end before spinning it around to slice its neck through.


    Only then did she take the opportunity to examine the outcome of her candy grenade. The results were reassuring. It wasn¡¯t as good as a formal grenade, and unless her count was off, the fuse didn¡¯t last quite as long as its length should have. But then, that¡¯s why you always treat a five-second fuse like a three-second one.


    ¡­ Considering this was being recorded, it probably just got a lot harder for her to legally buy sugar. Damn. Ah well.


    As the last scorpionoid bled out behind her, she gave the spear a spin to flick the blood off of the blade before tucking the haft under her arm again.


    One block down, six more to go.


    ¡­


    It took her nearly an hour to reach the Defender waystation. Most of that had been from caution, as the preds were crawling practically all over at this point, giving up ambush strategies in the presence of sheer numbers.


    They still didn¡¯t hardly communicate with each other, though. At one point, she even tricked a bunch of them into a dead-end alley, where she introduced them to a couple of her Molotovs. She was kind of glad that they hissed instead of screamed.


    If nothing else, she¡¯d left substantially less of them still scurrying about in her wake. Her bandoleers were empty, but her spear had put in plenty of work and she still had her trump card.


    The lights of the waystation came on automatically in response to her presence, illuminating the short entrance hall, the lobby, and, as the doors slammed shut behind her, the waystation¡¯s one other occupant, its massive form hunched over the consoles for city security feeds.


    There was that deep growl again as it pushed itself to its feet, but it wasn¡¯t a threatening one, emphasized as it deepened when it stretched its back out. And then the alpha scorpionoid turned to face her, and there was intelligence in this one¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Prey,¡± it greeted her deeply, though the word didn¡¯t match the movement of its pincer mouth. ¡°Is your translator my words understand?¡±


    ¡°Mostly,¡± Ash replied as she continued to approach as if this were all perfectly normal. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect, but I can make sense of it.¡±


    The problem perhaps went both ways, because it seemed to take a moment before it gave a bob her translator told her was a nod. ¡°Good. You here die now. Grasp you this.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I give myself good odds,¡± she disagreed conversationally. ¡°You¡¯re not the first four-armed variant I¡¯ve encountered, and I¡¯ve learned since then.¡± She tapped the spear haft against the floor. ¡°Got myself more reach.¡±


    Its mandibles twisted. It was a grin. ¡°You interesting prey are. No fear. Prey not behavior.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯d be because I¡¯m a predator.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± It stood up fully straight and unfolded its arms fully. It might have been half again as large as the one in the aquarium. But then, she¡¯d never seen that one stand up straight at all. ¡°I predator death world am. Still you do think reach enough?¡±


    Ash did give it the benefit of a surprised eyebrow but then grinned back. ¡°Let¡¯s find out.¡± And she brought the weapon up into a ready position. ¡°One deathworld predator against another.¡±


    It gave a whistling hiss that translated as laughter, then came at her like a raging, poisonous wrestler.


    Her new reach was not enough, at least not as much as she would have wanted. The scorpionoid chief¡¯s blows came fast and hard. One miss even put a hole in a wall she could have slipped through. In a proper arena, she could have kept dancing around the demi-giant and bled it to death with a thousand cuts, but waystations were built to be sturdy, not big.


    Then it sent its tail shooting after her when she rolled to one side and she buried her spear into it just below the stinger, pinning the limb to the wall and causing the pred to cry out in pain as she jumped away from it.


    In a rage, it reached down and ripped the spear out, itself, then snapped it in two and threw the pieces to either end of the room. But when it wheeled on her again, it paused as it tried to make sense of the short length of pipe she held in one hand, bracing herself down on one knee while her other hand held the lit torch near the pipe¡¯s back end.


    Then the torch touched the back of the pipe, and an explosion filled the room as a ball bearing passed through the chief¡¯s skull at nearly the speed of sound.


    Ash dropped the pipe and shook her hand out after the brute¡¯s body crashed to the ground. She even gave her palm a few useless puffs of air as she made her way over to the consoles. That smarted right up into her forearm.


    But with a few quick pokes and a bio-signature verification, she found the communications channel.


    * * *


    Agent Apex pulled the helmet off of her head and her body immediately took a deep breath she hadn¡¯t realized it needed. She looked at the three faces that were still there almost where she had left them, and focused on the fox in particular.


    ¡°Well, Doc, I¡¯d call that a passable amateur horror game. Points for environmental interaction, though.¡±


    He in particular was staring at her like he¡¯d completely forgotten who she was, and she¡¯d sprouted fangs in the meantime. ¡°G-game?! You call that a game?!¡±


    ¡°A basic one, sure,¡± she confirmed, and Fiffsy grinning beside her put a grin on her lips, as well. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty popular genre back home. Oh, and you need to work on your AI, your basic enemies in particular could be really stupid.¡±


    He swallowed at that and looked down his nose. Rather than snobbishness, for his kind, it was an expression of annoyance. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fairly certain I know the encounter to which you are referring.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± Ash hopped up from the bed and shoved the helmet into the doctor¡¯s hands. ¡°So who wants to go get something to eat? I¡¯m starving.¡±

 First Contact

    First Contact


    An Apex Short Story


    -by Ninmast Nunyabiz-


    The first sound was the cold hiss of air, then there was a lurching sensation and she was falling. By the time the sensation of touch returned to her, she was on hard tile.


    Suddenly, her body realized that it wasn¡¯t breathing, and with an involuntary heave, metallic air filled her lungs. The sudden motion drove her into a coughing fit as she automatically rolled onto her elbows and knees to better hack and spew. So severe was the fit that she felt as if she¡¯d vomit, but apparently there was nothing on her stomach to eject.


    Once her breathing stabilized, her body realized it was cold. And, finally, as she staggered to her feet and ran the hands of her crossed arms over her naked shoulders, she realized that she, too, was bare.


    A blinking, green light caught her attention and drew her gaze ahead of her. A line of lockers were built directly into the metal wall. Each one had a name plate bolted to it. The one with the light read, ¡°Jones, A.¡±


    She lunged forward and gripped the handle with stiff fingers. It opened with a jerk as she yanked on it. Inside were only two items, a jumpsuit and an earpiece.


    She fumbled with the suit, desperate to get some clothing on and chase the chill from her damp skin. It resisted her in her urgency, clinging to her flesh and clumping up. By the time she finished getting it and its accompanying boots into place, she slumped against the locker, panting as if she just wrestled a bear.


    On the upside, the vigorous activity had finally built up body heat, and the hallway was feeling much more comfortable. She estimated the temperature to be about seventy degrees Fahrenheit, maybe a little under, just on the nippy side for being made of metal and without any windows. Especially for finding herself without anything but her birthday suit.


    At the reminder, she turned her attention once more to the far wall, the one she¡¯d started with her back toward. The one she had to have come from.


    It was a blank, featureless wall, smooth and notably concave. There was no door or any other aperture that might have regurgitated her so rudely. The only hint was a rail system along the top of the wall, its thick, twin bars apparently meant for transporting something heavy. Whatever that something might have been had long departed.


    With nothing else to see, she pulled herself back to her feet and, remembering the earpiece, grabbed it and hooked it to the left side of her head.


    The device beeped when she tapped it, gave a short chime, and emitted the first voice she had heard in here besides her own. It was a woman¡¯s voice, but it was clearly artificial, with a halting manner of speaking typical of generated audio.


    ¡°Connection detected. Accessing. Good morning, [Ashley]. Please proceed to the [Atrium] for [Orientation].¡±


    Venturing to hope the machine was listening, she spoke back. ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°This is your Facility Management AI for [Preservation Base] [U-S-12]. It is a pleasure to meet you, [Miss] [Jones]. Please proceed to the [Atrium] for [Orientation].¡±


    A pleasure, indeed, she thought with a scoff. The canned, automated response grounded her more than she expected. The fakeness had a sense of reality everything else happening to her was too surreal to impart.


    It also gave her crucial information. She was in Preservation Base US-12. That may have seemed like an empty statement, since the AI had just said that, but far more could be inferred from that simple statement.


    A preservation base was clearly some sort of emergency shelter, and there were at least twelve of them across the United States. If she was in an emergency shelter, it followed that there had been some kind of emergency. She must have been brought here with others as a result.


    Try as she might, she couldn¡¯t recall being picked up, or of any sort of imminent crisis. In fact, even the previous day was fuzzy and hard to nail down, but that may have been a result of whatever they¡¯d done to her in transit.


    What kind of crises were pending that could have triggered such a facility¡¯s activation? This preservation base was clearly no mere storm shelter. Climate change? Too slow. What was fast? She couldn¡¯t recall any incoming ¡®roids on the news, and anyone with nukes were as chill as they always were, only trading a few meaningless barbs when they were feeling their old Cold War oats.


    She walked onwards as she chased these thoughts, heading toward the only visible door, which opened at her approach. This led to another nondescript hallway with more doors. She opted to keep going straight, as it made sense that an atrium wouldn¡¯t be a side room.


    She thought she would keep walking for some time, but soon found herself in a large room, able to hold two dozen people comfortably. There were about that many chairs, all oriented toward a podium.


    However, the main lights were all off, only having the dim emergency lights she¡¯d been navigating by.


    ¡°Hey, Manager,¡± she tried, ¡°no one else is here.¡±


    ¡°Hello, [Ashley],¡± it answered back through the earpiece. ¡°I understand your statement to be requesting the location of other facility personnel. Is this correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    ¡°Remaining personnel of [Preservation Base] [U-S-12] are en route to the [Atrium] for [Orientation.] Please proceed to the [Atrium] for [Orientation].¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m already here.¡±


    ¡°Congratulations on being the first to arrive.¡±


    She moved over to the seats and took one in the back row, rocking back and forth for a bit in silence. It wasn¡¯t long before she could bear the dark, empty room no longer.


    ¡°Manager, what happened that we were brought to this emergency shelter?¡±


    ¡°I am sorry, but I do not have any data on events outside of the facility, [Ashley]. Such questions will be answered at [Orientation].¡±


    ¡°If orientation is about to happen, why are the lights off?¡±


    ¡°Do you want the lights turned on, [Ashley]?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    The flipping of switches sounded like breakers in the silent atrium as row after row of LED lights came on to illuminate the room.


    ¡°Why weren¡¯t they already on,¡± she asked next.


    ¡°Standard operation procedure is that all nonessential systems are to remain offline to conserve resources until a ranking administrator requests otherwise.¡±


    Ranking administrator? ¡°Is that me?¡±


    ¡°[Ashley] [Jones] is currently the highest-ranking active member within this facility.¡±


    Well, that didn¡¯t sound good. ¡°And what is my rank?¡±


    ¡°Your rank is [Resident].¡±


    Well, crud. She was either in a horror flick, or she was the only one up and around in this place. Either way, she was probably in serious trouble.


    ¡°Manager, do I have access to the facility exit?¡±


    ¡°As the ranking officer, you have access to all non-classified base operations and functions. This includes the exit.¡±


    ¡°Guide me there.¡±


    More walking followed, including some stairs, but she was quickly getting the idea that the preservation base wasn¡¯t very big. It didn¡¯t take long for her to come to a stop before an airlock, not unlike she might expect to see on a spaceship.


    ... There¡¯s a possibility she hadn¡¯t considered.


    ¡°Manager, where is Preservation Base US-12 located?¡±


    ¡°According to your records, [Ashley], you would recognize the location of [Preservation Base] [U-S-12] as being in [Illinois].¡±


    ¡°According to my records? Why? Is it called something else now?¡±


    ¡°I have no data on the current nomenclatural status of anything outside of the facility.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t.¡±


    Still, at least she now knew she wasn¡¯t in space or underwater. In fact, she wasn¡¯t far from home, relatively speaking.


    More concerning was the language the AI kept using. Base, rank, officer, classified. It all sounded like a military operation. And not the National Guard.


    ¡°Is it safe to go outside?¡±


    ¡°Radiation levels [Nominal]. Weather [Cloudy]. Temperature [65-F]. Air pressure [Normal]. You will not die from exposure.¡±


    A little chilly, then, but nothing a Chicago resident wasn¡¯t familiar with.


    ¡°Let me out.¡±


    ¡°Warning. [Ashley] [Jones], leaving the facility would disconnect you from the facility management AI.¡±


    ¡°Would I reconnect upon returning, or is it permanent?¡±


    ¡°Reconnection would occur automatically so long as you are connected to your aural module.¡±


    ¡°So long as I¡¯m wearing my earpiece,¡± she summarized.


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t intend to go far. I just want to see what we¡¯re working with, check for immediate threats and resources, that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°Understood. [Resident] [Ashley] [Jones] is dispatching on a [Reconnaissance] mission. Cycling airlock. Good luck, [Miss] [Jones].¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Manager.¡±


    * * *


    Tomb worlds. Planets that once held thriving civilizations until untold catastrophe struck. Their people extinct, their surfaces remained covered with the ruins of the cities that had gone from thriving metropolii to mass graves.


    Sometimes, the death throes of an entire civilization took centuries. Other times, it was over in a relative instant. Xenoarcheologists like Weltik D¡¯jenn always hoped for the rarer latter, as it meant a clearer glimpse into the normal daily lives of the native people.


    Unfortunately, the quick route often involved mass destruction, such as from cataclysmic tectonic movements or meteor strikes. Such events left precious little to recover next to the relative whole that was lost.


    It felt wrong to wish deadly plagues on an entire civilization, but it was often the best outcome for those of his occupation. Even if they were transmissable across extraplanetary species, such diseases often have long died off with their hosts by the time a tomb world is discovered, or are a miniscule challenge for modern Union medical science.


    The planet filling his vision as he stood on the viewing deck was looking like one such golden find. Infrastructure was mostly intact. Scans showed roads, communication towers, even a number of massive structures that, given their far greater age, seemed to be historic monuments of their own. The only real damage was the odd power generation facility that seemed to have been left running and failed spectacularly in the intervening span of time.


    The native species had actually been remarkably advanced for a tomb world. Normally, the civilizations that had been so destroyed were more primitive ones with no capacity to adapt or save themselves. Coming into the system, however, they encountered undeniable signs of space flight. Now over the planet, the science ship could pick up signs of lightspeed communication networks, subatomic power generation and a nearly global data network supplemented by low altitude laser satellites.


    It was sobering to realize that this was a society that might have been joining the Galactic Union, if only they¡¯d held out for another couple centuries. He¡¯d have to pour one out for the friends he¡¯d never meet. Now, they¡¯ll only be known in a museum.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The clanking of Defender power armor drew the doctor from his thoughts as a large biped made even larger by his metal suit came to a stop next to him.


    ¡°Time to go, Doctor,¡± Resh told him, his voice, like most of his race, far softer than one might expect from his size. It came from their sensitive ears, tuned to pick up subtle vibrations in the wind. They often expressed that talking to other species felt like having to shout all of the time. ¡°If we don¡¯t leave now, we¡¯ll miss our drop window.¡±


    ¡°Straight down, right?¡±


    ¡°More or less.¡±


    Weltik had the screen before him zoom in on the planet below. They were above a particularly large urban sprawl that they had picked mostly out of convenience. The next one of similar size would be nearly a decisol and a half away if they wanted to avoid changing orbit. It was the perfect place to dive head first into this alien culture.


    He swept the screen away and turned from the strikingly blue sphere filling the window. After all, he¡¯d be seeing it much closer in just a handful of minutes.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s not keep the dead waiting, then.¡±


    * * *


    A Walmart! She never thought she¡¯d be so grateful to lay eyes on one! Or something like it, she didn¡¯t actually recognize the chain. The layout, however, was unmistakable as that of an all-in-one supercenter.


    It was devoid of people. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but they¡¯d been there long enough to look ... old. Their polished shine was gone and several were working on a patina of rust. Of course, that wasn¡¯t much of an indicator if this really did draw the same customer base as a Walmart, but even the building seemed worn down, its colors faded.


    She went straight for the clothes. The jumpsuit was fine for inside the bunker, but the air outside was colder, with a stubborn wind that seemed determined to penetrate her one layer of clothing. She worried the clothes would be moth- and rat-eaten, but if she could find anything clean and intact enough, it would be nothing but improvement. Fortunately, they largely seemed in good condition, and even if they were a little threadbare, more layers were better than less.


    Once she was properly clothed, she started scouting for usable supplies. Maybe the facility had stockpiles, but there was something off about it that she didn¡¯t quite trust. So she grabbed flashlights, batteries that didn¡¯t seem bursted, a couple knives, an ax. She didn¡¯t know what she might ultimately need, so she threw it all in a cart like she was going on a shopping spree.


    She was navigating the canned and preserved foodstuffs when she heard a noise that wasn¡¯t from her. It sounded like footsteps ... and talking. She couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying, but they weren¡¯t making any effort to be quiet. One could get the impression that they thought they had the whole world to themselves.


    Oh, it wouldn¡¯t do well if it turned out this place wasn¡¯t closed, after all. She had no money! But no, this place was clearly abandoned. Foodstuffs were rotted away, and dust and grime coated everything. Maybe they were here for the same reason she was. But that didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t gladly take what she had gathered.


    She pulled the ax from her cart, adjusting her grip on the haft for a moment, and then made her quiet way toward the voices.


    * * *


    ¡°Look at it, Resh! A centralized economy! Long-distance communication! Motorized vehicles! Though I have to admit, detonating petroleum is an odd choice, but what creativity!¡±


    Resh wasn¡¯t the only one that didn¡¯t seem as enthusiastic as Doctor D¡¯jenn. The other Defender, a medic, was of a lupine race, and looked perpetually as if she expected a ghost to jump out at her. Only his assistant, an AI student that wasn¡¯t currently projected, took notes as enthusiastically as he made his observations.


    There were others, of course, but they remained on the ship in orbit until the safety of the landing zone could be confirmed. Weltik would also be determining where best it would be to build their base camp. He was thinking the parking lot would be ideal, in fact. Right in the middle of all of these relics, while safe from trampling on them by the natives¡¯ own design.


    The lupine girl stopped short, followed by Resh a moment later. ¡°Biosigns, Doctor,¡± the large, bull-like man explained while bringing a protective arm down in front of him.


    ¡°All of the dividers must have been interfering with the passive scanners,¡± the lupine agreed.


    Weltik turned with the two of them, unfathomably curious as to what the first lifeform he¡¯d see on this alien planet would be.


    ... He wasn¡¯t prepared.


    ¡°Is that an Undpani?¡± Resh guessed.


    ¡°Did someone slip down from the ship with us?¡± the lupine tried.


    It certainly looked like a female Undpani, Weltik agreed, but she had no tail and was dressed in clothing of a style he didn¡¯t recognize. No, that wasn¡¯t true, he did recognize it. They were the same style sold in this very store.


    Also, she was carrying a two-handed ax.


    Fortunately, Weltik didn¡¯t feel threatened by her. Instead, she looked as bewildered to see them as they were to see her.


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s an easy enough way to tell if she is or not,¡± he ventured, and before Resh could stop him, he took a step forward and put forth a limb in greeting. ¡°Hello, there, Miss! You¡¯re most certainly not one of ours, are you?¡±


    * * *


    They weren¡¯t human. Oh, they were definitely humanoid. Two eyes, two arms, two legs. She could tell at a glance that all three were different species, however. One was a rabbit girl with a backpack of supplies, another was a cow man with long, thin, almost antenna-like ears. The last, the one talking, seemed almost the most human, but his nose was slitted, and when he removed his hat, she saw ridges on his head, like cornrows made of scales. Some sort of strong-jawed lizardman, then.


    And he was talking to her. Not that it did any good. It wasn¡¯t English, or anything else she could have possibly recognized.


    Well, if he was going to try, might as well return the favor. She put on her best smile. ¡°Sorry, Mr. Ford! Afraid I don¡¯t know where to find that Ark you¡¯re looking for!¡±


    She watched on as they turned back to speak amongst each other again. After a moment, the lizard guy turned toward her again, hands held out to either side as if he wanted to avoid startling her.


    He spoke in soft tones, making his voice as soothing as possible. The act made her frown.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a stray cat, Doc.¡±


    Of course, her words didn¡¯t mean anything more to him than his did to her, but the rabbit chick made some sort of noise that sounded a bit like a giggle and then said something that made the lizard man frown strikingly similar to how she had. The sight made her laugh, too.


    ... But, wait, the rabbit didn¡¯t sound like she was using the same language as the lizard, either, yet they could understand each other? Were they just all polyglots, or were they all running Google Translate instead of changing languages?


    Languages ... Yeah, this was going nowhere unless she could get a basic language working between them.


    Ah! This store would actually have just the thing! She got their attention and waved for them to follow her.


    * * *


    Fearless.


    That was the one word that came to Weltik¡¯s mind as they followed the native through the marketplace¡¯s aisles. She was searching for something she wanted them to see, that much was plain, but what struck him was how fearless she was. She didn¡¯t even balk at Resh, and the man was massive even without power armor.


    On that note, she didn¡¯t even react to the power armor. Not that armor, itself, was likely an uncommon concept, but Resh had been messing with the readout on his gauntlet, and the girl hadn¡¯t given it more than a passing glance, like she understood what she was seeing. Fascinating.


    The native made a sound when she looked down one aisle and sped up, but it only took rounding the same corner for him to understand.


    ¡°Books!¡± he proclaimed, and couldn¡¯t help belting out a laugh. ¡°You little genius!¡±


    The young woman seemed to understand that he understood and gave an expression in response, then held out a fist with her thumb up in the air, presumably some celebratory gesture.


    He turned to the other two with him to share the joy, but they just looked confused.


    ¡°What good are books if we can¡¯t read them?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just it,¡± he gushed. ¡°I¡¯ll bet she¡¯s brought us to an educational section!¡± He began to peruse the books, to see if he could determine where to start. ¡°We just have to find one that starts from the beginning and--¡±


    The native said something to get their attention and pulled out a colorful book with thick, cardboard-like pages. It was grimy with age, but there was no doubting what it was. He laughed again. ¡°One step ahead of me, aren¡¯t you?!¡±


    He flipped through a few of the pages. Single characters paired to simple pictures. This must have been their alphabet.


    ¡°Sinney, come out and take a look at this,¡± he insisted.


    There was a flash of light beside him, and what appeared to be a woman of his species stood in previously open space, except she was ever so slightly translucent.


    Oh, Sinney wasn¡¯t actually there, of course. Technically, the AI was still on the ship, but that wasn¡¯t much of a burden for her. She could transmit her likeness through his remote emitter and act as if she were actually with them.


    A moment later, it occurred to him how it might startle the native, and jerked his head to check on her, afraid she might bolt, but she was just looking at Sinney as if she was trying to figure out if the hologram was really there or not.


    Fearless. Truly.


    ¡°What do you need, Doc?¡± his assistant asked.


    He held the book out toward her, flipping through the pages. ¡°We need to reconstruct this native¡¯s language as soon as possible. This is their alphabet.¡±


    Sinney looked from the book to the native. ¡°Have you tried Undpani?¡±


    He sighed and rolled his eyes. ¡°She isn¡¯t Undpani!¡± He motioned toward her irritably. ¡°The ears are wrong and she has no tail! Also, her front teeth are for chopping. Undpa teeth are all grinders for nuts and stalks. Probably has a diverse diet. Now pay attention to this book!¡±


    He could flip through the pages quickly for her, since she could read faster than organics, but that wouldn¡¯t help with the phonetics.


    Again, the native was ahead of him. She pointed to each letter and pronounced it clearly. She understood that Sinney didn¡¯t need in-depth instruction, too. Then she brought over more books, each building upon the last.


    It would have been extremely hard for an organic to pick up the language, especially with few common references. They understood bread and vehicles and computers, but many references were to native produce and creatures, relying on ubiquity to teach children that would have grown up surrounded by such things.


    Linguistic analysis was Sinney¡¯s forte, however. It took the better part of two decisols, but finally she announced that she was ready to attempt communication with the native girl.


    * * *


    She was more convinced than ever that these were aliens, not just mutant animals. Heck, they didn¡¯t even know what a cow was, and they had one with them! At least the rabbit girl recognized the rabbit in the kids¡¯ book.


    But the holographic woman could read fast. She was pretty sure the woman was actually an AI, and way smoother and smarter than Miss Manager. The woman tore through every language resource she could find in record time.


    Admittedly, that record still felt awfully slow, but it was fun to help teach her language to someone else.


    Soon, the AI said something to the others, and they got quiet, focusing on the pair. So they were ready, were they? Alright. She gave the woman a patient smile and waited for her first words in English.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the woman started. ¡°My name is Sinnelen. Please call me Sinney. What is your name?¡± It was slow, experimental, but sounded natural.


    Her smile widened. ¡°Hello, Sinney. My name is Ashley. Please call me Ash. Am I right that you are an artificial intelligence?¡±


    Sinney¡¯s eyes bulged quite convincingly. ¡°You are so advanced?¡±


    She started to shake her head, but decided to stick with words. ¡°No. We have a basic imitation, but it can¡¯t think for itself. It can only imitate according to its instructions.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, we call that virtual intelligence, I think is how it would translate. What happened to your planet?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know it was like this everywhere. I just woke up near here and it was like this.¡±


    The back and forth continued amicably for some time. With Sinney as the translator, Ash was introduced to each of the aliens. Most notable among them was Dr. Weltik D¡¯jenn, an introduction that did nothing to stop her making mental comparisons with a certain whip-wielding character of essentially the same profession.


    Actually, Dr. D¡¯jenn was excited at the news that her people already had a hearty appreciation for archaeology, and she fished him out a book on world history for when he had some down time.


    Her guess about translators was essentially spot on, as well. They each had micro-transceivers implanted into their language centers that translated what they read and heard in real time to their own languages. It was so common a practice as to be standard across their systems, and it wasn¡¯t even considered a surgery. A little injection into your temple, and bammo, the linguistic world was your oyster.


    She very eagerly expressed a desire to go with them, and given the state of the planet, they were inclined to agree. It would fall under the definition of a mission of mercy, and would allow her to claim asylum within the Galactic Union. But first, they wanted to see where she¡¯d woken up.


    So she led the way back toward the bunker, chatting casually with Sinney all the while.


    Unfortunately, when she tried the door, it refused to open. She tried several buttons on the side, but nothing responded.


    ¡°Well, this is embarrassing,¡± she told her new friends. ¡°Let me see if I¡¯m getting signal out here.¡±


    She tapped the earpiece she still had in so she wouldn¡¯t lose it. ¡°Manager, are you there?¡±


    The response was immediate, if a little staticky. ¡°Welcome back, [Miss] [Jones]. Was your mission successful?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say so, but the door isn¡¯t responding.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, [Ashley], but a ranking officer ordered the exit sealed.¡±


    ¡°Others are awake now, after all?!¡± She¡¯d half thought she¡¯d woken up in a tomb, the only one alive.


    ¡°Yes. I regret to inform you that you have missed [Orientation].¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± she insisted. ¡°I¡¯ve got some big news. Could you patch me through to whoever¡¯s in charge now? Tell them it¡¯s critical.¡±


    ¡°One moment. Contacting [Colonel] [Marcus] [Thomas]. Please wait.¡±


    ¡°Huh, two first names,¡± she mused. ¡°Go figure ...¡±


    The facility management¡¯s voice came back a few moments later. ¡°Apologies, [Miss] [Jones]. The recipient has declined your call. I have been directed to inform you that you have been registered as [Contaminated] and are to be quarantined from the rest of the base until further notice.¡±


    ¡°Quarantined?!¡± she raged back. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°You will not be permitted to return to the interior of the bunker. I apologize for the inconvenience. Your personal belongings will be stored pending your return.¡±


    ¡°How will I know when that will be?¡±


    A hatch folded out near the main door. Inside was a rectangular box, about five inches long, four wide, and two thick. ¡°This is a [Signal Repeater] for your aural module. The [Signal Repeater] will extend the range that your aural module will be able to receive simple messages.¡±


    Ash turned it over in her hands. ¡°How far?¡±


    ¡°The low-frequency signal used to communicate between the [Signal Repeater] and [Preservation Base] [U-S-12] has an effective range of approximately [Two Thousand] [Miles]. You will need to be within [Two Thousand] [Five Hundred] [Feet] of the [Signal Repeater] for your aural module to receive any incoming messages.¡±


    * * *


    In a depressing turn of events, their new friend, Ashley, a ¡°human,¡± had been rejected from her tribe before ever even meeting them, all because she met citizens of the Galactic Union first. This behavior was troubling to Dr. D¡¯jenn. It suggested a deep paranoia toward outsiders that contrasted directly with the open and curious nature displayed by the female they¡¯d met.


    She tried to rationalize it away, an admirable trait, but he could tell that she had been shocked, surprised, and even hurt by it. That meant that the behavior was radically unexpected from the norm for her society, and from an authority figure, no less. He worried what it would mean for the other residents under this two-named figure¡¯s care.


    Unfortunately, they could do nothing about it. How a non-Union world governed its affairs was outside of their own authority. Now truly a refugee, all they could do was take Ashley with them, and call the entire expedition off. After all, it could no longer be registered as a tomb world, which meant the locals had to sign off on any such studies. Given the response just to Ashley coming back, he didn¡¯t see that happening.


    Resh looked the signal repeater over while the ship doctor was getting Ashley her very own translator implant. Contrary to his appearance, the man was a whiz with technology, and he thought he could set up a relay of their own. They all got the impression that Ashley¡¯s exile was permanent, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to set up a dedicated FTL relay in case a signal ever did come through. That it only had to be one-way was a blessing, it meant they could get around some red tape.


    All in all, Weltik figured there had to have been rougher first contacts than one that ended with a new acquaintance. Her intellectual performance ratings were looking excellent, too. She was already talking about getting into a Union university and studying AI. No doubt she¡¯d have no end of questions for Sinney. At least the girl¡¯s spirits were staying high.


    With one extra crewmember than it arrived with, the science vessel dropped a small beacon into the upper atmosphere and turned away from the blue planet. It cantered out past the first asteroid belt - yes, first; the system had an unheard-of three such belts, even with so many planets - before engaging its FTL drive.


    The trip back to Galactic Union space had just started. And, as Dr. D¡¯jenn leaned back in his quarters and opened the history book Ashley had given him, he had a feeling that the open-minded human was going to make a real splash when she made her debut.

 No Good Deed

    No Good Deed


    An Apex Short Story


    -by Ninmast Nunyabiz-


    Most cultures have a saying, in one version or another. You can''t see the mountain from the inside, for instance. Measuring the ocean from the reef is a popular one, too. Admiring the view from the valley is another. The variations are as diverse as the people they come from.


    For Humans, it''s that you can''t see the forest for the trees, the sophists.


    However it''s said, it always comes down to the same rough translation: Sometimes, you''re too close to the problem to see it.


    Far away from Earth, many light years distant, the Galactic Union was an alliance of species and civilizations spanning dozens of systems. Somewhere within its borders, in two different places and, by sheer coincidence, at roughly the same time, two people were studying the newest civilized race to be discovered, in two very different ways.


    At one location, a geologist studied the planet they came from. Coming into it, he expected to find pretty much the galactic standard for planets that evolve sapient life. The planet would be safe enough, and stable enough, to support the development of complex life without promptly killing it off. The biodiversity would be relatively standardized across the settled portion. A tame and gentle sun would bathe it in life-giving warmth.


    At another location, a biologist studied the species'' physical attributes. Similar to the geologist, he, too, had a series of expectations, some of which were met before he ever began. Parallel evolution was rampant across the galaxy, leading most advanced lifeforms to adopt nearly identical forms despite being from entirely different planets. Early biologists had taken it as a sign of panspermia, the artificial seeding of life from a single entity across the galaxy, and there were more than a few theologians that still held to it.


    Both were destined to find their expectations, and even their very worldviews, shattered by the anomaly that was Humanity.


    * * *


    The problems with the planet started to become obvious the moment you even entered the system. With three asteroid belts and the number of planets approaching double digits, especially depending on how you defined the word, to call the system "cluttered" would be like saying an ocean had water in it. With so much mass in a relative space, it was no surprise that there wasn''t a single rocky planet that didn''t show extensive signs of meteorite, or even asteroid bombardment.


    Sol-3, locally called Earth, wasn''t any different in this distinction, but a strong upper atmosphere actually crushed most meteorites, causing them to implode and burn up before ever reaching the ground. Holding onto such a deep atmosphere was only possible because of the strength of the magnetic field generated by the centrifugal force of its core, itself a defense against powerful solar winds.


    It turned out the Earth''s sun, Sol, while still a yellow sun like that of most cradle world systems, was actually excessively violent for such a star. It raged and blasted, roaring its fury into the vacuum of space, and all of the inner planets suffered for its wrath. Gusts of solar wind that would strip a lesser planet of its precious atmosphere and ionic solar flares that would burn them away weren''t even the worst threats it posed. It bathed every world in its system with deadly ultraviolet radiation so intense that it even penetrated Earth''s mighty defenses.


    Even Earth, itself, wasn''t on her children''s side. It was incredibly tectonically active, with near-constant earthquakes of varying intensity and whole chains of volcanos. Its plates moved at radically different speeds, as well, all the way up to a blazing ten meters a decade. Whole islands were birthed and then ground away to nothing by the endless waves just by the planet dragging its own crust across its surface like a child with a dirty blanket.


    Furthermore, three-quarters of its surface was covered by water in various forms, leaving limited land for its surface life to even use. With that same land constantly changing, nothing could be considered a true constant over evolutionary time frames. On top of that, most of that water was heavily salinated, making it not just unusable, but especially unwelcoming to most life as the galaxy knew it. And most of the land was scattered across completely different biomes, ranging from bone dry deserts to frozen wastelands, fetid swamps to sweltering jungles, open plains devoid of cover to dense forests shadowed even in the height of day.


    So how did life evolve in such a hellscape? Surely, the varying climate alone would region-lock developing life until its chosen environment sank into the sea from the constant tectonic movement? By any metric of biodiversity, Sol III life took a "brute force" approach to survival. While most planets are considered diverse with a million or so different organisms, initial bioscans indicated a number for Earth exceeding a trillion, a million million millions, with a massive percentage of that being microbial or insectile. Viruses were the most successful form of life, by number of species, by a nearly unfathomable margin.


    The planet was, against all odds, absolutely thick with life, forcing everything to become hyper-competitive to survive. Nearly everything was toxic, or disease-ridden, or had plague levels of propagation. Usually, some combination of all three. Predators were bigger, meaner, smarter. Plant growth was aggressive and destructive, actively strangling its competition. Thorns and spikes, thick bark and impenetrable hides formed defenses against claws, fangs and endless, rapidly evolving biological warfare. The entire planet''s circle of life was locked in a battle royale to be the last one standing.


    And this was the world that birthed Humanity.


    With shaking limbs, the geologist rushed to report a reclassification of Earth. It needed to be barred, barricaded and quarantined. It was no garden world, and how a species lasted long enough to become civilized was beyond his field of consideration. Sol III was to be recategorized, effective immediately, as the highest-ranking Death World on Union record.


    * * *


    The problems with humans as a species were much harder to notice. Indeed, the general consensus was to compare them to the physically similar Undpani, another primate species. Superficially, this was perfectly serviceable, with the number of apparent similarities seeming greater than their differences. Both possessed head hair as their only noteworthy fur, both had rounded ears, and they had similar physiques and facial profiles. Hide an Undpan''s tail, and you could practically pass them off as a Human. What few visual differences there were would be covered by shoes, hairstyle, ... and by rarely smiling, the Undpan''s flat teeth an insurmountable give-away.


    Socially, they were both outgoing, highly expressive, and physically communicative. The Undpani were ... moreso, but to most Union species, having that tuned down would be a welcome difference. They were very friendly, but they simply tended to be ... a bit too much ... everything.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The average person, indeed, the average biologist, would be mostly content to leave the matter there. This one, however, got that itch of curiosity, and just had to look deeper. It would be an engrossing project as he found himself unable to look away from the growing paperwork and physicals from their one sample. He had no way of knowing when he started that the night before he finished would be the last time he''d sleep soundly without medicinal assistance.


    Humans, it turned out, were not much like Undpani at all. For one thing, they were omnivores, while Undpani were obligate herbivores. That, in and of itself, wasn''t much of a red flag. There were other omnivorous Union species, and it didn''t automatically mean that you were a predator. The Chisay, for example, had a diet consisting largely of nuts, berries, fruits, vegetables, some leafy greens, and insects. Furthermore, most mammalian species ended up with a dairy industry, technically making them somewhat omnivorous even if they never actually ate any meat.


    Humans also had excellent night vision, able to see a single flame from a distance they called a mile in total darkness. Night vision wasn''t nearly as common among Union species, but it wasn''t unheard of. All of their other senses were also excellent, most notably their hearing and sense of smell. This would have been more of a red flag on its own, but in a species with already strong senses, it didn''t stick out.


    Their stomach acid was particularly potent, capable of breaking down even solid iron, but this was most likely the explanation behind their diverse diet. Humans were able to eat nearly anything, even to the point of enjoying things like spiciness that were supposed to be defense mechanisms. This was typical of species that evolved as scavengers, however, even if the strength of the trait was exceptional, and again, it was passed over without particularly deep thought.


    The first time something really caught his attention, it was the muscle fibers. That was the first thing that didn''t make sense. Human strength - their power to weight ratio - was only a little above the Union average, good but nothing particularly exceptional. But that was why the fibers didn''t make any sense. By all reason, with the performance per fiber and the density they came in, a given Human should have as much power as a primate four times their weight. With some rough calculations, that would have put Humans at the high end of strength among Union species, not barely breaking average.


    That soon led him to their bones. Their lattice construction made them lightweight for their material density, and yet they were stronger than the very same iron their stomach acid was capable of dissolving. Their material construction would further render them immune to electric shock, unable to be burned, and nearly impossible to melt with acid. They were a natural armor against stressors the biologist couldn''t possibly imagine.


    And yet those muscles should have been able to snap the very bones they were anchored to in two. He told himself that he must have made a mistake with the math, but didn''t dare do it again.


    Humans were endurance performers, excellent ones at that. They had numerous ways to get fuel to their muscles, even if they couldn''t get enough oxygen to them. Like most endurance performers, this meant slower muscles that used less energy without sacrificing power. Humans definitely had those ... but they possessed a strange dual-type musculature that threaded fast-twitch ones in, as well. It was almost as if they were built for long distances, but could launch off at a moment''s notice.


    Those could be for fleeing danger, or responding to a rapidly changing situation, and it was hard to argue against the defensive trait of running for longer than your pursuer can give chase.


    But the biologist began to feel a cold lump in his chest as he reviewed the documentation and remembered the strong senses. The varied diet. The strange shoulder structure that enabled superior throwing and the precision of Human movement tracking.


    As the pieces came together, he went through the documentation one more time, each page outlined in a new, horrifying light. He only got halfway through before he threw the files from his lap and staggered toward the phone.


    He had to tell them. He had to tell someone. Humans might be the deadliest predator Union space had ever seen.


    * * *


    As this was transpiring, Ashley Jones, the lone Human in all of Union space, was blissfully unaware of any of it.


    She had recently been admitted into a Union university on a refugee scholarship, where she would be doing a remedial course to make sure she was up to par, akin to a G.E.D. Then she''d be enrolled in the university proper, well on her way to a career in AI studies.


    She was walking home with two friends she had made. It was late, but they hoped their presence in numbers would dissuade any trouble. Buddy system and all that.


    It wasn''t to be.


    It was under a particular lamp post that a large man stepped out ahead of them, causing them to stop. His grin showed serrated teeth and there was a dagger in his hand.


    Behind them, two more stepped out to enclose them in a triangle.


    "Ladies," the one in front greeted them. "It''s late out! Why don''t you come back home with us for dinner?"


    "Sorry, you boys aren''t our type." The retort was out of the human''s mouth before it even needed to be thought about.


    "Spunky one, aren''t you?" he asked back, and narrowed his eyes at her own. "Those eyes ... those are interesting eyes you''ve got for a Prey."


    Preys and Preds. The dynamic defined the largest divide in Union society. It had never occurred to Ashley, and no one had thought to explain it to her beyond caution, but the Galactic Union believed that only prey species that evolved a Herd Mentality before achieving sapience could become a civilized species. Predator species were considered sociopaths, unable to form the bonds necessary for civilization.


    This was in no small part due to Preds, predator species that had evolved sapience, but continued to prey on other sapients. Not all predator species were Preds, but all Preds were predators, and it was considered only enlightened egoism that could permit a predator species to engage with society within the bounds of law at all.


    She didn''t bother correcting the predator, anyway. Instead, she glanced back to the two girls behind her. "When I say go," she said quietly, "run to the side. Run and escape. Get help."


    "What are you going to do," one of them asked back, her voice shaking.


    "I''m going to be a distraction."


    "No! They''ll tear you apart!"


    "Then you''d better hurry back with that help, hadn''t you?"


    The leader took a step forward. "What are you whispering about over there?"


    Ashley turned her gaze back to him. "I was just telling them, you should step over here and take a closer look, we''ll see what happens to you."


    He let out a low growl. "You sure throw around a lot of shit for a primate, girly."


    She couldn''t help it. The absurdity of the comment made her laugh even as she stared at him to gauge if he was serious. "Wow. Either you''ve got a great sense of humor, or you''ve never met primates from my planet."


    He growled again, bent down, prepared to lunge ...


    "GO!" Ashley shouted and dashed forward toward the leader.


    She felt a piercing pain in her side as the dagger went in, but focused on slamming a shoulder into his chest, anyway.


    One of the others went to run for the other girls, so she ripped the dagger back out without a thought and hurled it at him.


    The third was coming for her, but the adrenaline was pumping through her, and he seemed nothing but slow. She ducked under his clawed swing, gripped the arm of his second, and slammed her forehead into his.


    The leader was starting to rise, and she wheeled about and kicked him across the head, sending him back down again.


    She was breathing heavily, looking around for the next one to move. Slowly, it dawned on her that none of them did.


    "What the hell ...?" she gasped, her right hand finding the wound in her side and clamping over it. "Why were they so weak?"


    Blood loss and pain finally brought her to one knee, but she heard sirens coming. The girls must have found someone.


    "Ashley!" one of them called out as they rounded the corner.


    "I''m okay," she assured them, but any further words froze in her throat as two squads of Defenders busted around the corner, as well. One of them pulled her fellow students back, but the rest moved to surround her.


    One young woman, surrounded by three dead preds, one with a skull crushed like an egg, another with a neck snapped by torsion, and a third with a dagger jutting from his jugular. The cops all trained their weapons on her.


    "Put your hands up where we can see them," one demanded.


    "I can''t," she called back, annoyed. "I''m injured!"


    "I said hands where we can see them! We will not repeat the order!"


    So she did as they said, slowly pulling her hand away from the wound and getting down on the other knee so she no longer needed the other hand to support herself, and raised both into the air.


    Mutters went around quickly. Apparently, they hadn''t believed she was actually hurt until they saw it.


    "She sounded more pissed than hurt," one said.


    "That''s a serious wound," another observed.


    "She said she was okay," a third recalled.


    "Lay down on your stomach and put your hands behind your back," the one that had been giving orders to her demanded next.


    She complied, albeit tenderly.


    "What''s going on?!" one of the girls demanded off to the side. "What are you doing?! We were the ones that were attacked!"


    "Please stay back away from the predator, ma''am."


    "The predator?! No, she''s a student! She''s with us!"


    "Please," the other begged as two officers held the human against the ground and a third cuffed her, just to haul her up off of the ground again.


    "She was only trying to help!"

 Interspecies Bonding

    Interspecies Bonding


    An Apex Short Story


    - by Ninmast Nunyabiz -


    The alleyway walls cut out the worst of the wind and rain, but somehow still managed to let everything on the ground end up completely soaked through. And it did absolutely nothing at all to keep out the chill.


    All of the water rendered the creature''s own fur completely useless to this end, as well. All she could do was curl up inside the pitiable shelter of the half-collapsed box and try to compensate with natural body heat. A source that seemed to peter in and out with the complaints of her empty stomach.


    Oh, how she longed for her clutch, where she''d be nestled within a pile of her brothers and sisters and it didn''t matter if they didn''t catch anything because her mother would bring back big, fat rodents from the docks.


    She lacked a proper concept of time, but it felt distant, as all comforting memories do during times of hardship. But as she laid there, curled and shivering, she could almost feel sparks of their warmth as she struggled to dream of the memory.


    A shadow fell over her, the sudden shift in light rousing her, and she raised her head to see a towering bipedal creature. It looked down at her baring teeth, its form a horrifying amalgam of folds and bare skin, topped by a mushroom that kept the rain off of it.


    It kept the rain off of her, too, for the moment, but that wasn''t where her mind was. She needed to flee, to escape, but the cold had her cramped and hunger had her sluggish. Her limbs wouldn''t move the way she wanted. She let out a cry of protest, of threat, of pleading, but it sounded weak even to her own ears.


    And as the creature bent down toward her, making noises of its own, she just knew that this was the end. Fallen to a monstrous predator because she''d failed to survive on her own.


    * * *


    "Kerry, I''m home."


    Ash held the bundle in her arms close to her chest, making getting out of the raincoat harder than it otherwise would have been. Fortunately, the umbrella was easy to set aside, its haptic field collapsing so she needed only set the pole in the corner.


    "Welcome home, Ash!" The Undpani AI''s cheerful face turned to overexpressed confusion at the sight of the bundle. "Eh? Did you bring more meat home? But we''re not through the last bundle!"


    The human chuckled at that. "Don''t say that too loud, you''re liable to freak her out."


    "Her?! Did you finally give in to your bloodthirsty urges and kidnap some poor little urchin off the street?!"


    Ash held up a finger before her lips to encourage Kerry to quiet down, then laid the bundle gently down on the counter. "No urchin, just a stray."


    Kerry leaned over the bundle, unable to hide her curiosity. "A stray?"


    But she inhaled sharply when the bundle came undone and revealed the damp alien feline, fur a spiral of shifting grays as green scales came up from the feet to engulf the legs and underbody. "Ash, that''s a koatil!"


    The human frowned at the statement. "I know what it is," she insisted. "We have a similar species back on Earth. We call them cats."


    "Yeah, well, these ''cats'' are pests." The Pani girl crossed her arms under her intangible bust. "They go wherever the rat species they hunt go and end up in every port in the shipping lanes!"


    "So did ours," Ash confirmed, giving the scaled neck of the koatil a little rub. "But this one was in the alley, and was cold and, if I had to guess, hungry."


    She went over to the cabinet and grabbed a small bowl to put it under a dispenser. "Milk, warm," she instructed, and soon white fluid was filling the bowl to just the right height.


    * * *


    She blacked out when the monster grabbed her, one last attempt by her simple mind to spare her the horror and agony. But, unexpectedly, sensation returned.


    She was somewhere soft and dry, and the air was warm. Something gently lifted her head up and then a sweet, mellow aroma was in her nose. On her nose. Impulsively, she licked, and the taste was delicious. She began licking more and found a pool of the nectar before her.


    The thought of where it came from never entered her mind, only that this delicious concoction was the first thing she''d had to eat in days.


    * * *


    "There, now, that''s better."


    The koatil jumped at Ash''s words, but she still spoke to it soothingly.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "No need to panic. You''re not in any danger. Nobody''s going to hurt you."


    Kerry turned her gaze from the feline to the human. "Um, Ash, koatil aren''t sapient. She can''t actually understand what you''re saying."


    "She doesn''t need to," Ash assured the hologram. "Our ears may not understand each other, but our stomachs speak the same language. Look."


    Sure enough, when neither of the figures leaped upon her, the koatil was lured back by the warm milk and began lapping it up again, even if she did so with one eye trained on them the whole while.


    Ash couldn''t help but grin at the progress. "Looks like I''m going out again!"


    "What for?"


    "I''m going to need to pick up some sand."


    Kerry''s cartoonish overanimation turned to the human as if Ash had gone crazy. "Sand?"


    "To microwave it," the alien explained without explaining much of anything. "The Union doesn''t have much in the way of pet litter."


    * * *


    It had been three days since the tall creatures brought the koatil indoors. She didn''t really have a concept of how long that was, only that it was a long-short time.


    Emerald. She didn''t know the meaning of the sound the tall ones made, but she understood that it was meant to refer to her. They said it whenever they wanted to get her attention, and usually because they had something tasty or interesting to give her.


    Except when the tailed tall one said it sharply. That was usually because she''d attacked one of the little rolling rodents that the tailed one had trained to do her bidding. But, really, even if she wanted to, she couldn''t help it. They just rolled around all tempting, and it''s not like she hurt them any.


    She tried once, and all she got was hurt teeth. But the tailed tall one always made such a great racket. Even if the rodents weren''t such tempting targets, she''d have attacked them just to get a rise out of the tailed one.


    The tall one without a tail always made amusement noises at the sight and praised her hunting prowess. At least, that''s how the koatil decided to interpret the cooing sounds delivered with absolutely wonderful ear scratches.


    Yet another reason not to give up the hunt.


    The koatil had come to the conclusion that these tall ones must have been koatil, too. Why else would they bring her into their pack? It was the only logical explanation. However, they were very bad at koatiling, something she''d noted repeatedly over her time with them.


    Well, the tailed tall one was horrendous at it, at least usually. She did, admittedly, have a knack for showing up in a room Emerald was absolutely certain was empty in a manner she''d yet to decipher, but otherwise, whoever her mother had been, she''d absolutely failed to teach her any hunting skills at all.


    Now, the one without a tail was clearly a great and mighty hunter, as she never failed to bring home some sort of catch. As for how she did it, that was less clear. She was a better koatil than the tailed one, but still clomped about like she didn''t care who heard her coming.


    Maybe she was just that good at it that she didn''t have to worry in her own nest? She certainly carried herself that way, and she was clearly on alert. Every time Emerald hid, the tailless one managed to find her. They even made a game of it.


    Speaking of the tailless one, the last two days, she''d returned from her hunts at a time very soon from now.


    Emerald licked her jowls, wondering if there would be new meat in her belly come evening. If the tailless one consented to stroking her fur-portion correctly again, maybe she''ll even deign to reward the tailless one by sitting in her lap while the noise-box squawked at them.


    * * *


    Kerry looked down with a soft smile at the "pest" animal that now sat curled up in Ash''s lap. Like most feline species, the koatil had a distinct purr. Ash said it sounded like the world''s smallest diesel engine.


    Kerry said that would make it the world''s only diesel engine and had questioned why Ash knew what such a bizarre thing sounded like.


    "It''s hard to believe she''s only been here a month," the hologram observed. "She acts like she''s been here forever."


    "I''m just glad she finally feels at home here," Ash replied. "I was worried an alien species wouldn''t respond as well."


    Kerry turned a disbelieving eye to the cop. "You really do this to stray cats back on Sol-III?"


    Ash looked down at Emerald as she continued to stroke her fur. "And other animals. Most respond well to a gentle hand and a full bowl, but we have our favorites. Or our favorites have us."


    That drove the hologram into an exaggerated expression of confusion. "What do you mean, they have you?"


    "Well, like I said, there''s a lot of animals we domesticate," the brunette explained. "Some are for livestock, like cows and sheep. Others are work animals, like horses and some breeds of dog. Some precious few are just for companionship. We can get attached to all of them, and vice versa. But the jury''s out on whether or not we ever truly domesticated cats."


    Kerry''s face turned pouting. "That''s not an answer at all! You''re gonna make me ask what you mean twice in a row! That''s just bad form!"


    The officer gave a brief laugh at the reaction. "Sorry, it''s just a bit long. See, our interactions with cats probably started about the same time yours did, shortly after the advent of agriculture when you started storing grain. Like you said, koatil follow rodents. The same was true of cats, so when the rats came to eat the grain, the cats came to eat the mice."


    "How is that different from how you first met anything else?"


    "Well, take dogs for an example," Ash explained. "Humans and wolves hunted together and shared the spoils of their cooperation. This developed bonds as they started working as a single pack unit, and eventually dogs came to be, faithful, loyal, and, as clever as they can be, dumber than their wild wolf kin."


    A frown of thought came to the Undpani. "What kind of adaptation is it that would promote growing dumber?"


    "One of dependence," came the answer. "That''s what it means to be a domesticated creature, you become dependent on the species that domesticated you. Maybe not wholly, but to at least some degree. Be it for food or protection from predators, domesticated lifeforms entrust some level of fundamental survival to their masters in exchange for a guarantee of that survival. If the master species is strong enough, then the creature need fear no predator or scarcity."


    "I see ..." Kerry rubbed her chin. "So humans take over the role of defender of the herd and gain the loyalty of other species in exchange. But this isn''t the case for felines?"


    Ash shook her head. "Take Emerald here." The koatil looked up at the sound of her name, and Ash reassured her by rubbing her ears. "She doesn''t need us. She''s fully capable of going out and hunting on her own. We helped her through a rough patch, but she stays with us because it''s convenient. Cats love us or hate us, and we treat their mercurial natures as a feature rather than a flaw. We have no relationship of dependence with them."


    "Then why keep them around?"


    "Part of it is just that we like cute things, and we''ll take them in and care for them if they''re in need even if they''re a completely different animal from us." Ash looked down at Emerald one more time. "But the truth is it''s the same reason they stay with us. It''s not a relationship of dependence. It''s one of convenience."


    One of the automated roller drones in charge of cleaning the floor happened to dart by at just about that time, and in an instant, Emerald had twisted and launched herself from Ash''s lap, springing for the droid.


    "Ah!" Kerry shouted. "Emerald! That''s not a toy!"


    But Ash just laughed. "And there''s the other reason. To keep the rodents in check!"

 Hospital Visit

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

 Persistence Hunting

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

 For Want of a Burger

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

 Arena

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Threx threw himself forward without hesitation, charging headlong toward the stranger.  If the novice was going to be so green as to allow him the first strike, then he would rip her apart before the match even started!


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    You can call me Apex.¡±

 Off the Rails

    Off the Rails


    An Apex Short Story


    -by Ninmast Nunyabiz-


    Union trains always run on time.  This is thanks to a network of artificial intelligences that monitor the state of all rails and cars at all times.  This being the Galactic Union, and artificial intelligences being considered sapient beings on par with any organic citizen, they aren¡¯t slaved to the processes.  In fact, they work a normal daily shift like anyone else.


    The railways have actually grown to use them as mascots for their respective stations, and the girls and boys of the Union railways take pride in both their service and administrative duties.  One artificial intelligence once described the job as like getting to play with model trains for a living, and not having to imagine all of the passengers getting on and off.


    Paradoxically, this doesn¡¯t mean that Union trains run fast.  On account of a higher instinctive risk aversion than Humanity, rare is the Union species that even considers high-speed rails.  The operational speed of a Union train rarely reaches even two hundred kilometers per decisol, despite being a composite civilization that has long since mastered faster than light space travel.


    But they always run on time.


    *     *     *


    Passengers in Car 10 on the westbound I-41 engine had just finished settling into their seats for their ride.  It was a particularly long one that would cross the better part of a time zone before it reached its destination station, overseen by AI Iona-Oahu.  Iona was popular with her regular passengers, and delighted in entertaining them during the long trips, a diversion from her monitoring duties that amounted to music in the background for the multitasking master of the tracks.


    It would still be a few minutes yet before such entertainment began, and the passengers were chatting amicably with one another while stewardesses moved up and down the aisles selling drinks and snacks.  The ride was silky smooth, as the cars don¡¯t even jostle since they don¡¯t actually touch their grav-rails.


    It was just another average day for the I-41.  The skies were clear, energy levels were nominal, and the train was perfectly on schedule.


    And then it wasn¡¯t.


    The braking didn¡¯t amount to much more than several dozen kilometers per decisol, less than a quarter of their previous speed, but it was enough that everyone took notice.  Passengers were pulled forward in their seats and the stewardesses grabbed for their carts before they could roll away.


    As everyone began fearfully asking, wondering and demanding to know what was going on, two hooded figures stood up from near the front and pulled back their hoods to reveal lupine features.  When they weren¡¯t immediately noticed in the panic, one of them put his fingers to his mouth and sounded a shrill whistle.


    The car settled down at the sharp noise, then grew quieter still as they processed the presence of the two preds looking down on them.


    The other pred, the one that didn¡¯t whistle, spoke into the resulting silence.


    ¡°For those of you who are interested in knowing what¡¯s going on, we¡¯ve prepared a presentation just for that, a bit of a movie, if you like.  So sit back, shut up, and enjoy your in-ride entertainment.¡±


    With that, he tapped a button on the holo-screen on his wrist, and the main cabin monitor flipped on, followed shortly by monitors projected by the back of every head rest.


    ¡°Citizens of the Galactic Union,¡± the video started up as a wolfman with a scar down one eye appeared on screen, well-groomed and dressed in a fine suit.  ¡°I apologize for the disruption to your normal schedule, but there is a pressing matter that I must bring to the attention of your superiors.


    ¡°First, introductions.  My name is Karnak.  I lead my fellow pack members in our efforts to reach Civilization.  Together, we are known as Vahrkan, and we hold full control of this train and all of its cars.¡±


    So rapt was the attention of the captive audience that none heard the hermetic seals shut, or the hiss of air pressure as a colorless gas tasting vaguely of cinnamon began to fill the car.


    ¡°Why would we do this?  Because your Civilization rejects us while simultaneously trapping us within it.  Because we are predators, we are treated as second-class beings.  Because we are predators, we are trodden upon and scorned.  Because we are predators, our children are denied education and work opportunities.


    ¡°Because we are predators, we are looked down upon as inferior.¡±


    Before the very eyes of the crowd, the two wolfmen in front began to look larger and larger, their grins widening to show ever more, ever sharper teeth.


    ¡°But the reason you fear us is because we are not inferior.  The natural hierarchy has been upended, but Vahrkan will right the scales.  If you wish to see us as the demons of your nightmares, then demons we shall become!¡±


    The grins became truly wicked, their sharp ears twisting up like horns, and as the two predators took their first steps forward, muscles rippling as if to threaten to tear open their clothes, the entire cabin began to scream.


    *     *     *


    Within nanoseconds, the call went out to Defender Headquarters.  The pinged AI immediately rerouted the information to the relevant department, and the AI there located the nearest qualified officers on call.  Iona-Oahu had lost control of Engine I-41.  Over five hundred people were onboard the lost train.  Investigate and rescue.


    Ash and Storey tossed their lunch in a bin as they ran past it the moment the call came in marked Priority One.  Estimates placed them as first to arrive, reinforcements being diverted and en route.  All first responders on tap, fire and medical included.  Status of missing train unknown, previous route and interception course laid into navigation.


    Ash practically mauled the interceptor cycle as she pounced on it, immediately keying the ignition and revving up the electric motor.  The Chisay medic barely had time to straddle the second seat and lock into the restraints before his partner gunned the bike, sending it shooting down the street on as fast a track to its maximum velocity as she could force it.


    It was called a motorcycle, but it was nearly fully enclosed with the elongated semi-oval that was the windshield and the roll bar at their back.  Even in the event of an accident, it was engineered so that they might get rattled around a little, but the worst of any impact would be absorbed by the vehicle.


    That wasn¡¯t what had the Chisay so terrified, though.  The speed at which they tore through the megacity drove the medic to cling to the officer in front of him in distrust of the restraints alone, despite them being far stronger than his own grip.  Even the sirens and lights blaring from the machine were of questionable usefulness, as Apex swerved in and out of traffic faster than most could have gotten out of her way, anyway.


    Chisay had relatively high reaction times, as Union species went, able to respond safely to navigation obstacles at speeds of over 180 kilometers per decisol as a racial average.  This was no doubt thanks to their avian evolutionary history, requiring such times to adjust to threats mid-flight.  Even though they were no longer flyers (due to their size, modern Chisay could barely manage to glide under their own power), they still retained many of the traits and instincts that made them excellent at it.


    Ash was on the outside of those limits and wasn¡¯t breaking a sweat.  There was tension throughout her back and her gaze was locked ahead, but it was in urgency, not strain.  If she was straining to do anything, it was avoiding going even faster.  Storey had no doubt that if he weren¡¯t ¡°riding shotgun,¡± as Ash called it, she¡¯d be going even harder with only her own life on the line.


    They shot through the megacity and out of the district they¡¯d been patrolling.  But Apex didn¡¯t follow the plotted intercept course.  The machine started squawking at her the moment she took an off-ramp to a higher elevated highway, but she ignored it.  It wasn¡¯t long before Storey could see tracks a level down from them, and he started to get a bad feeling.


    ¡°Oh, Ashley,¡± he pleaded, ¡°please tell me we¡¯re not going to do what I think we¡¯re about to do!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s faster,¡± she answered, and that was technically true, if one didn¡¯t care about the nearly half-dozen meter fall, or driving on live tracks, or the risk of getting caught in front of a train.  ¡°Hold on tight!¡±


    Storey would like to think he didn¡¯t scream while clinging tightly to his girlfriend and fellow Defender.  He certainly didn¡¯t hear it over the sensation of his heart leaping into his throat as they jumped the railing and gravity took over.  And any scream was cut off with the landing of the impact as it kicked the air out of his lungs.


    With no traffic in the way, Apex drove the cycle even harder, and they shot down the tracks at speeds that started to blur to the Chisay¡¯s senses.


    And then, there it was.  Ash slowed the bike down as they came up on the train so that they weren¡¯t closing as fast, until they were coming up on it only a little faster than it was moving.


    Ash locked in the autopilot with a snap that jarred Storey.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡±


    And then she deactivated her restraints and moved into a crouch, her feet up on the seat.  ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, I¡¯m just catching a train,¡± she quipped with a grin back toward her partner.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I like the way you catch the train!¡±


    ¡°Be ready to grab the controls!¡±


    And then, with just a stride between the bike and the back end of the train, Apex jumped.  Storey grabbed for the controls to compensate for the sway before looking up to see the human clinging to the roof access ladder on the back of the car.


    She pulled herself up far enough to get a leg onto a rung, then leaned back to give Storey a thumbs up to show she was secure.


    He knew he was too close to the train if anything happened, so he gave her a glare that he hoped communicated for her to be careful, then switched to the front seat and disengaged the autopilot to begin slowing down enough to back away from the car.  He would have to keep trailing it until they reached someplace he could get off or Ashley managed to stop whatever was wrong.


    Apex, for her part, climbed her way to the top of the car, and in the face of the wind, ducked back down to tap on her wrist, activating mag-clamps in the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands.  It wouldn¡¯t be enough to climb up a vertical surface, but it would give her extra grip against the seventy mile per hour winds along the top of the train.


    She crawled up onto the top of the train, keeping her body low as she made her way toward the roof access hatch.  It was technically an emergency escape, but her Defender credentials could override it in a moment.  The next, she was dropping into the passenger car.


    The scene before her was surreal.  She landed between all of the passengers and staff for the car and two preds.  The passengers and staff were all squeezed as tightly as they could manage against the back wall, the smell of fear and more than a bit of urine barely covering up a smack of cinnamon she assumed must have come from some of the sprawled service carts.


    ¡°Vahrkan will right the scales,¡± a video of a lupine man played on all of the screens on loop.  ¡°If you wish to see us as the demons of your nightmares, then demons we shall become!¡±


    The two preds paused at her entrance, but there was something wild in their eyes, and their limbs twitched as if eager to pull her apart.


    ¡°Look, brother,¡± one celebrated, ¡°the Defenders have arrived!¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I only see one.  Do you think there¡¯s more?¡±


    ¡°I hope so.  It¡¯d be such a pity if we only get one chew toy.¡±  The celebratory one¡¯s mouth split open as he pointed at her.  ¡°Look, look!  It¡¯s happening!  Twenty creds she pisses her pants!¡±


    She had honestly stopped processing what they were saying.  She was overcome with emotion as her heart pounded in her chest.  There was nothing she could do.  Her lungs seized.  Her muscles clenched.  Her eyes dilated.  Adrenaline flooded her system.  Everything these two did, everything about them ¡­


    ¡­ it just made her feel so ¡­ so ¡­


    One of them was laughing at her.  The next instant, there was a fist colliding with his jaw in slow motion.  In that same slow motion, his body began to roll away from her.  She followed through all of the way until she was bent over, but it was like the bike¡¯s autopilot.  Her mind was already on the other one.


    His face looked shocked, confused, and when his eyes met hers, it grew a little horrified with some sense of revelation.


    It was delicious.


    She was on him before he could think to react, grabbing him by the shoulder as she buried her fist into his stomach, then again, and again, and again, hammering him clear up off of the floor with each impact delivered like an angry piston.  Then she grabbed him by the other shoulder, too, and hurled him away like a rag doll.


    He impacted a window, blowing it out as his head lolled out the side.  The burst of fresh air was almost chilly in the cabin.


    That was important.  Something about that was important.


    His brother had climbed back to his feet and was lunging at her with his claws wide.  She didn¡¯t even hesitate.  She grabbed the arm and twisted it around a hand bar.  She pulled.  He screamed.  She pulled harder.  Red spilled across the cabin as the arm came loose and he screamed even louder.


    She threw it aside and grabbed him by the neck and head, slamming him into the nearest window.  It broke and his screaming got a little quieter.  She whipped him to the other side of the cabin, into another window.  Back and forth down the cabin, she shattered windows with his face, and only stopped when she reached the door to the next car.


    Her breathing was heavy.  Her heart was pounding.  She¡¯d never been so angry in her life, but there was a rush along with it, an endorphin high that made it all feel so right.


    She dropped the unrecognizable head to the floor and spared a glance back at the passengers and staff.  She must have been glaring, because they all flinched away from her.


    They would be fine.  They were safe.  There were more cars.  More preds laughing at her.  She could practically hear them.


    Apex literally tore a path through the intervening cars, repeating her performance.  Every passenger car held the same thing, all of the passengers held captive by just a couple preds.  None of them laughed at her.  She didn¡¯t give them a chance.  Bars and frames were bent, windows were smashed, seats were snapped.  One pred¡¯s head was put all of the way through the main monitor, and then she twisted the whole bloody assembly, razor sharp glass shards and all, nearly full circle.


    None of the passengers or staff got anywhere near her.


    She got all of the way to the engine and came bursting in, fully expecting more of the same.  It took her a moment to process her change in surroundings, and it occurred to her the train had to stop.  In a frenzy, she looked around for anything that looked like a brake.  That was when she saw the note.


    Apex snatched it up in hands covered red, barely able to remember where it all came from, and focused her eyes on the note.  Letters were there.  Letters that said something.


    ¡°Key Upstairs¡±


    It took her a long moment to parse the meaning of the words, then she turned back to the doorway.  There was no upstairs on a train.  Only a roof.


    There was a man waiting for her up there on the car behind the engine, another pred, standing in the shadow of the wind fin of the engine that broke the gusts and created an area of calm.


    ¡°It¡¯s called Truth Serum,¡± he said unbidden as she landed on the roof in a three-point stance.  ¡°Do you like it?  Our leader funded its creation.  It triggers the Flight Response in the imbiber.  For prey species, it makes them terrified, unable to do anything but run as far as they can, and cower if they can¡¯t.¡±


    He turned toward her, and she could see he held a hypo spray in his hand.  ¡°Of course, who could have imagined that the first person the Defenders would send would be a predator?¡±


    She took a step toward him against the wind, but he didn¡¯t seem bothered.  ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t try to convince you to join us in your state.  Honestly, my words are probably wasted on your pretty little head right now.  More¡¯s the pity, considering you must have killed all of my equally juiced men on the way here.¡±


    She took another step forward, and this time, he took one back.  ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m really not interested in fighting you in your current state.  Fortunately, once removed from the gas, the effects gradually start to wear off.  Now, the liquid form ¡­¡±


    He pushed the hypo against his wrist and it released its contents with a hiss.  His muscles clenched and bulged as they seized up and he bent over before throwing his head back.  ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a rush!¡±


    She dashed for him, head low, and went to ram into his middle, aiming to pick him up and slam him into the roof of the train.  But he gripped her by the shoulders and held her back, causing a standoff between them as both struggled for the advantage.  If his underlings were any indication, she had the greater strength, but he had the advantage of leverage and an undwindling dose of the fury drug in his system.


    She broke the stalemate by slamming her head up into his jaw, the impact enough to stun him even in his enhanced state, and lashed her foot out to kick him away from her again.


    There was something she came up here for.  Something important.  Her mind was starting to clear.


    ¡°Key,¡± she demanded.


    He chuckled as he stood back up, their tussling having rotated their positions, but the wind only made him bend into it, not move.  ¡°No wonder you¡¯re so quick,¡± he surmised.  ¡°Your biology dumps most higher functions, doesn¡¯t it?  Must be starting to wear off.¡±


    She merely repeated herself.  ¡°Key!¡±  She held out her hand as if expecting to be obliged.


    He smirked as he pulled a box from inside his coat.  ¡°This is what you¡¯re looking for, Defender.  Come and get it.¡±


    As bidden, she charged again, swinging wide haymakers that he brought his arms up to block, even though his body shifted left and right with the force of the impacts.  When she paused, he lashed out with a jab that struck her in the chin, but she ducked under the follow-up and pistoned her fists into his stomach, twice, three, four times, and when his guard came down to try to stop her, she straightened up and swiped for his face again.


    He staggered back, but watched her as she panted heavily and didn¡¯t pursue.


    ¡°You really are impressive,¡± he praised, holding his arms wide.  ¡°You¡¯re slowing down, you¡¯re getting weaker, but you just get more and more clever as you come back to your senses, don¡¯t you?  Pity the after-effects of the Truth Serum are so harsh.  It won¡¯t matter how clever you are ¡­¡±  And he was the one that charged this time.  ¡°... when you can¡¯t stay on your own two feet!¡±


    They traded blows again.  More and more, Apex ducked and weaved instead of bullheadedly sinking hits in exchange for hits.  But her body hurt.  Every muscle, every tendon screamed in a progressively louder voice.  And his blows, once so slow that she could have counted his knuckles if she¡¯d had the mind to do so, came faster and faster to her senses.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she was blocking more blows than she was throwing, and it was downhill from there until he was pummeling her defenses as ruthlessly as she had opened against him.  Finally, he got his foot up when she staggered back from a particularly sharp straight and buried his foot in her chest to send her sprawling back.


    She barely caught herself before she rolled off the train entirely.


    He bounced on his feet a bit playfully.  ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Defender?  Not so full of vim and vigor as you came up here with?  I can do this all day!¡±  He threw a few jabs at the air just to illustrate it.


    Finally, Apex took more notice of her surroundings.  There were sirens.  Cars and bikes chased them along the highway.  Several Defender hovercraft circled around them in the air.  Reinforcements.  That¡¯s right, they were coming.  She resisted the urge to search the crowd of vehicles for Storey.


    Instead, she turned her attention back to the wolfman that was her opponent.  ¡°It¡¯s over.  You¡¯ve lost.¡±


    But he just threw his head back and laughed.  ¡°We won the moment we took over the train!  Did you think we expected to hold it?!  We only slowed it down to put off getting to the next station!  Do you think those Prey will ever forget the fear that gripped them today?  Those on this train will never think of themselves as superior to Predators again!  And the performance you put on, it must have been glorious!  I regret missing it!¡±


    He took a step toward her downed form.  ¡°No, you¡¯re the one who lost.  You did nothing but prove our point, and now that you¡¯ve served your purpose, you¡¯re going to go overboard and plummet to your death from a hundred-seventy-plus kilo-per-deci train.¡±


    She groaned, but pulled herself to her feet and placed herself into a ready stance, damn the complaints of her body.


    The display only made him laugh again.  ¡°You can still go?!  You must be in agony!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re endurance hunters,¡± she growled, and started toward him again.


    For his part, he let her.  And then, when she swung, he ducked under it and punched her in the ribs.  She swung from the other side, and he blocked her arm and backhanded her across the face.  Still, she came, even though he kept slapping her aside.


    It was like she didn¡¯t even feel what he was doing to her, and in truth, it barely registered over all of the pain signals her body was already sending her.  He kicked her, and she got up, he punched her, and she returned for more.


    But even her body had limits.  He was starting to wonder where those were when she finally staggered away from a flurry of blows that had bloodied her nose and clipped her eye.  She wavered, and likely only stayed on top of the train thanks to her mag-clamps that were still active in her suit.


    ¡°It really is over,¡± he declared this time.  ¡°You couldn¡¯t fight your way out of a noodle shop now.  Really, you have my praise for remaining on your feet at all for so long!  What did you say your species was?¡±


    ¡°Human,¡± she half-mumbled, barely audible thanks only to the silence of an operating hover train.  ¡°And I¡¯ve still got one more card to play.  Just for when all the fight seems gone.¡±


    His grin tensed a little at that.  Was it a bluff?  It had to be.  There was no way some sort of second gusto was going to save her.  ¡°I¡¯ll bite.  What do you have, Human?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called the Indi Maneuver.¡±


    That made his face twist in confusion.  ¡°Indi?¡±


    She could tell his implant didn¡¯t translate it.  Of course it wouldn¡¯t.  There¡¯s nothing to translate proper nouns into.


    Instead of explaining, Apex, sluggish from the beating and wear on her body, drew her taser with deliberation and fired it into the man¡¯s chest.  At the speed of light, an ionizing laser drew a line from the barrel to the wolfman¡¯s chest, and, slightly slower, a bolt of lightning discharged along the line to slam into his chest.


    He staggered, but didn¡¯t go down.  She fired again, and a third time.  The fourth time hit where he was keeping the box, but there was no time to be thinking about that.  The fifth finally made his foot catch on the rim of the car, and the sixth sent him spinning off into oblivion.


    She held her shooting position a little longer, as if her body was unsure if it was finished, then she let the arm drop like an anvil was on the end of it as she staggered for the stairs again.  Mindlessly, she got the weapon back in her holster and began her climb back down between the cars.


    Ashley swore as she opened the door to the engine again.  ¡°Damn it, how am I going to get the train back under control now?¡±  She¡¯d have to radio for tech support and have them walk her through hotwiring the thing, probably.


    But a light filled the consoles and a projection screen came on in front of the control panel.


    ¡°Not to worry, Agent.  You successfully destroyed the jamming device preventing me from reasserting control over the vehicle.¡±


    On the screen was a young woman with silver hair and wearing a train conductor¡¯s uniform.  She was smiling warmly.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one in charge?¡± Ashley asked.


    The figure on the screen bowed.  ¡°Iona-Oahu at your service, Agent.  Thank you again for securing my train and protecting my dear passengers.  Please tell me if there¡¯s anything I can do for you.¡±


    With Herculean effort, the human hauled herself forward into one of the corners of the room and flopped down.  ¡°Is the next station the nearest place for a stop?  Your dear passengers need medical attention.¡±


    That made the girl develop a worried expression.  ¡°There is a crossover that we can make an emergency stop at within ten miles.  Should I relay this to emergency responders?¡±


    ¡°Please.  In the meantime, I¡¯m going to try not to pass out.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear ¡­¡±


    *     *     *


    By the time the train came to a stop, the entire intersecting eight-lane skyway was cordoned off by emergency vehicles.  As soon as its doors opened, a small army of EMTs in gas masks rushed in with stretchers.  Without fail, two stretchers from every car came out with sheets pulled entirely over their occupants.


    Another car pulled up, and a massive figure climbed out of it, the entire car shifting as he did so.  Chief Homkish took one look over the scene and growled something about paperwork.


    He stomped over to one of the ambulances that were loading the sheet-covered gurneys into the back.  ¡°Somebody tell me what¡¯s going on in there!¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± one of them addressed him despite not technically being under his command, ¡°it¡¯s a mess.  Two preds dead in every car, half of them look like a bomb went off inside.  No other serious injuries so far.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s my officer?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, we haven¡¯t found any Defenders yet.  She must be in one of the cars we haven¡¯t gotten to yet.¡±


    That was when one of the passengers being carried out screamed, causing a cacophony of chain reactions from the other survivors and drawing the attention of the Chief and the medics.


    There, stepping out from the space between the front car and the engine, half-covered in blood and looking near-literally dead on her feet, stood Agent Apex.  She ignored the screams as if she couldn¡¯t hear them and blearily locked eyes with Homkish.


    The agent, herself, had once perfectly described her expression on someone else.  The lights were off and nobody was home.


    She shuffled toward him like the undead all the same, coming to a swaying stop some feet away from him.  One hand raised up as if she was going to salute, but it didn¡¯t even make it to ninety degrees before it dropped again.


    ¡°Chief.¡±


    ¡°Apex, what the hell happened in there?!¡±


    But her stomach made a sound, and instead of answering his question, she answered, ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± the medic cut in, ¡°she¡¯s not fit to answer anything at the moment.  Whatever happened, she¡¯s gone.  Let us get her in one of the buses.¡±


    He growled, but a moment later, nodded.  The next instant, the medic and three others were bringing over a stretcher and coaxing her onto it like she was a helpless child.


    As they hauled away his best agent quick as a flash, he turned back to look at the train again.  Whatever had happened here, he had a feeling the I-41 was going to be down for a while.


    And that the investigation was going to be a headache.