James Somers - Warrior Rising

“What now?” she asked.

“Go back down this shaft and it will lead you to the outside. Take this kemstick,” he said, handing Mirah the retracted weapon. “Run for the fence. This will allow you to cut through and get off the grounds. Just be quiet and stick to the unlit areas. You should be all right. I didn’t see any guards on the way in.”

“Then what?”

“If you can get to a home, maybe they’ll hide you until you can get back to your families.”

“Where are you going?”

“I still have some business to attend to. Now get going.”

The children began their slithering back along the air duct with Mirah behind them. Tiet crawled on over the hole he had made and continued through the duct ahead.

In a moment, a guard appeared in front of the cell. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Where are the prisoners? He grabbed his throat-something unseen choked him. His eyes bugged as he tried to breathe. Orin’s fist tightened in the shadows, watching while the guard struggled and then collapsed-his trachea crushed by an invisible grip.

Orin looked up at the charred hole in the ceiling of the detention cell. Careless, just plain careless and inexperienced, he thought. He sighed and moved on, using the shadows to his advantage. Those children are going to need help to get out of here safely. He would have to deal with his protege soon enough.

Tiet passed more cells as he continued his crawl through the ventilation system of the cloning facility. Every other room appeared to be empty. When he finally reached the end of the shaft, Tiet found it capped by a wire grill.

Beyond the vent screen, he saw a massive room full of all manner of technologies. Clusters of cloning pods hung from great robotic arms mounted to the ceiling. This must be where they grow the Horva.

Only one detail was missing from the chamber. There were no clones, none at all. In fact the entire chamber was completely devoid of activity. A series of large tanks with various chemical names printed on their sides stood in the distant portion of the great room. The fluid tanks were transparent and empty.

A control chamber sat near the tanks. Maybe I can get some useful information from their computers. Tiet pressed his body against the screen and then gave it a good solid push. It gave way and almost fell onto the floor before he could grab it.

Nothing moved in the room. Tiet climbed out of the ventilation tube and replaced the screen in case someone happened by. He crossed the floor of the huge chamber cautiously, looking for camera mounts. There were a few, but he waited and used the large equipment to stay hidden from their field of view.

Tiet made it about halfway to the control chamber when doors at the four corners of the room opened up. Vorn soldiers rushed in with clones. The fiendish, crazed looking men were purposely mutated in size and strength during the cloning process. Their fingers had sharp claws and their teeth were predatory. There was no fear in their eyes. They charged at Tiet, howling savagely.

The lights in the chamber flickered and went out. Emergency lighting immediately kicked in. The soldiers looked around wondering what had happened, but the Horva had no such concerns. They continued to charge.

Tiet pulled his Barudii blade from the electromagnetically shielded scabbard strapped to his back. The adomen blade hummed like a whisper, desiring to shatter the molecular bonds of anything the metal touched. Shots rang out from the soldiers further away, but they weren’t firing at Tiet. He saw another blade catch the light, becoming a blur as the dark figure wielding it swooped in from the ceiling and began taking down the guards. Tiet recognized his mentor immediately.

As the Horva lunged for him, Tiet struck the first in front of him then somersaulted over another attacking from the rear. Two strikes cut the clone down.

The other soldiers, not engaged with Orin, began to fire at everyone: the two Barudii, the Horva and even each other from across the room. It was hard to tell who was fighting who in the half light. More clones rushed Tiet and were cut down by their own panicked handlers-shooting anything that moved. Tiet threw three spicor discs each killing another clone. The discs exploded into three-foot-diameter blue spheres, vaporizing anything caught in the fields. Orin eliminated the soldiers on the other side of the chamber then came to Tiet’s aid.

One of the brutes lost an arm to Tiet’s sword, but continued his attack with the other arm. The bloodthirsty clone landed a fist to his head knocking him to the ground. Orin appeared behind the brute, striking him down immediately.

Orin helped the boy to his feet. Tiet knew by Orin’s expression that he was in big trouble with his mentor. Bodies lay strewn on the floor all around them in the chamber. An alarm began to wail throughout the building.

“You see? This is why I told you never to come here!” Orin shouted.

The middle-aged Barudii warrior stood a head taller than Tiet with a muscular build. His hair held the gray of experience and his face the scars of war.

“I know, but I couldn’t just stand around doing nothing. Our people are dying!” Tiet pleaded.

“Yes, you can. What do you think you’ve accomplished here? You’ve set off alarms. You’re probably being monitored right now. And you might have gotten those children killed, if I hadn’t intercepted them and helped them get off of the premises safely. You’re reckless Tiet. Just plain reckless!”

“It’s still better than doing nothing! Father wouldn’t want me to do nothing!”

“Your father would want you to stay alive…now get out of here, while I buy you some time.”

“Wait, Orin-haven’t you noticed there aren’t any Horva in production here? This chamber didn’t have anything happening.”

“So?”

“So, those tanks over there-they shouldn’t be bone dry, not if they’re still in use.”

Orin looked around to see what he was referring to.

“Maybe they can’t make them right now,” Tiet reasoned. “This might be our chance to rally the people and drive the Vorn out while they’re weak.”

Tiet was right about the clones at least. It appeared as though there had not been any clone production for some time. Orin considered the boy as the alarm continued to blare overhead.

“Please, Orin. We have to at least try.”

“Come on,” Orin grumbled. “I know someone who might be able to help us.”

Ranul awoke to the annoying voice of his computer attempting to alert him to an incoming priority message. He sat up groggily in his bed as the display flashed in his eyes. He noticed the time was now three hours after nightfall.

“Ranul, K’ore,” he said to the computer.

“Identified.”

The visual message flashed onto the screen instantly. Governor Kisch K’ta’s handsome, dark face appeared on the screen-a man from among the Vorn clan who ruled Castai during its occupation. The difference in skin tone among the human clans had long been a source of conflict and had played a big part in the outbreak of war. Still, Kisch K’ta had remained formally pleasant with Ranul as long as he obeyed.

“Ranul, I want the prototype Sentinel to report to the cloning facility at once,” said the governor.

“Has something happened that-”

“It’s none of your concern,” he interrupted. “Have the android report to my office immediately.”

The transmission link snapped off before Ranul could inquire any further. He knew something big must have happened for Kisch K’ta to put the android into action now. Still, there was no choice but to comply. He knew all too well the consequences of disobedience to the Vorn.

Ranul threw on his clothes without formality and made his way down the corridor. He identified himself with the robot guard in order to gain access into the main lab. As the lights flicked on, he walked over to the Sentinel’s power dock and addressed the prototype robot by the code name imprinted on its memory.