Chapter 110: The Burning
“It is not our duty to render judgment on their souls, only to send them to he who will.”
—Former High Priest of Byzon and leader of the militant Steel Faith, Eliam Aliferega, before the Desitoom Massacre
The forest trees were a blur—Zaina wasn’t sure she’d ever run so fast in her life. It took all her concentration to dodge and weave her way toward the chaos. Geramad and Bloqeli were similar blurs, fading in and out of sight.
“We should split up,” Geramad called out. “Better chance of finding someone.”
“Okay,” Bloqeli said, then split off at an angle. Geramad kept going straight, but pointed for Zaina to go the opposite way of Bloqeli.
Zaina wasn’t sure if it was the best idea, but decided to follow the order. They had to think about the bigger picture—getting every member of the patrol group who was still alive back to aid the dig-site’s defense was critical. Plus, Geramad had directed her to run in the direction she was pretty sure her ship landed—if she could get her hex-shield and her utility belt, she’d feel much better about her chances of surviving. Plus, she wasn’t sure if Gizmo would survive a forest fire inside a ship—better safe than sorry, she figured.
The thought struck her—would Sivanya really still care that Zaina was a lancer, even now? If they were fighting side-by-side to save the enclave, what did it matter whether Zaina was a lancer or not, or had been lying—and lying for what, exactly? Because she wanted to help save their lives, to put an end to the violence? In a time like this, with so much on the line, would it still matter to Sivanya?
Zaina didn’t know, and part of her didn’t care anymore. The Sivanya Enclave needed a lancer whether their leader liked it or not. Plus, whatever peace Zaina wanted to achieve through infiltration was now null and void—now she had to think about how the hell she was going to survive, too.
In the distance the sound and echoes of constant gunfire and heavy artillery rang into the sky, which was thick with smoke. The fire was spreading fast.
I have to hurry.
Luck was on Zaina’s side for once—she crested a hill and laid eyes on the crash-landed ship she arrived in. There wasn’t much time, though—about two hundred feet away was a sea of flames, a crimson wave devouring the sky and trees alike, and spitting out plumes of smoke with only ash left in its wake. It was a long line, like a blazing horizon.
Zaina sprinted and made it to the ship before the fire, but it had closed half the distance. In a hurry, she opened the door and frantically looked for her armor and equipment.
“Gizmo, wake up!”
Gizmo chirped and floated into the air. “Yes, Miss Zaina?”
She threw her TAC-suit on and started frantically putting on pieces of armor. “Get above the treeline and stay there until the fire’s out, hear me?”
“Yes, Miss—”
“NOW!”
Gizmo beeped affirmatively and did as he was told. Zaina got her mask on, now fully dressed in her lancer gear, and jumped outside the ship. The fire was feet away—she activated her hex-shield and knelt.
The fire passed around her shield, leaving her unburnt. That wasn’t her concern, though—the temperature was still rising fast. She activated the cooling systems on her suit and prayed they worked—a wave of relief rushed over her, then slowly faded as the unceasing heat returned little by little. The last thing she wanted was to get cooked in her armor.
Of course, the thought struck Zaina that she rarely got what she wanted.
It’s too fucking hot.
Sweat was leaking from what felt like every pore in her body. Without the cooling system she’d already have been a charred corpse—she gulped and hoped like hell it held out.
The inferno was still raging around her shield, still gradually cooking her—a readout on her mask indicated backup oxygen levels were depleting. The cooling system wasn’t going to hold out forever, too—it was wasting a lot of coolant fast.
Then, the moment before the heat became absolutely unbearable, the fire swept over her. As quickly as it had come, it was gone. Nothing was left behind but burnt stumps and falling ash. Zaina lowered her hex-shield and raised her mask, letting some semi-fresh air in. She sucked down a deep breath and immediately coughed, choking on the thick smoke that hung in the air.
She collected herself, thinking on her next step. The fire had passed—whichever of her marked allies were alive, they were likely on the other side of it. The forces of Deonago were likely coming right behind the fire. She could stay here and fight them, or she could try to beat the unmarked back to the enclave and help them make their final stand.
Assuming they don’t think I’m with the unmarked.
Zaina shook aside her concerns. The enemy was upon them; there was no time now for petty divisions. She was going to help the enclave however she could.
Her vis-screen rang—Xyrthe was calling. She answered.
It was surprisingly comforting to hear her mentor’s voice. “Motherfucking—hey! Hey! Is that you? Are you still alive?”
“Yeah,” Zaina said. “I’m alive.”
“What, are you their hostage or something?”
“No, I’m—it’s not that.”
“Look, we don’t have time for this. The battle’s about to go down whether we like it or not. I think it’s best if we disappear.”
It took a second for Zaina to process what her mentor was saying. “What—you mean, like, leave?”
“Yeah, skip town, leave, whatever you want to call it. The enclave’s cooked—Dirzo’s breaking out the big guns. He thinks they kidnapped his son and either killed him or turned him into a heretic—either way, he’s not fucking around. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like dying today.”
Zaina looked around at the burnt remnants of a forest. “But—we can’t just leave them. Not after all this, not after getting so close!”
“We weren’t close to shit, Zaina—Dirzo was gonna attack sooner rather than later anyway. Call it grief, call it anger, call it whatever—the point is, he moved up his timetable.”
Zaina sighed and noticed an ankle strap on her armor was only half-attached. She bent over to fix it, and a thunderous crack filled the air. A scrap bead whizzed above her back, where her heart had been seconds ago.
Zaina snapped up and raised her hex-shield. She’d waited too long—the unmarked were here. “I gotta go,” she said.
“Zaina, no—wait!”
Zaina ended the call. Another round of pops rang out, and her shield repulsed three beads. She scanned the horizon, hoping to lay eyes on her attackers—there in the distance were massive, metal tanks. They rolled on two pairs of treads and had an orb-like structure at the top, with incendiary guns affixed to either side and a ten-foot long barrel extending from the center of the orb. Each was jet black in color except for stripes of flame patterns. Walking alongside the tanks were dozens—no, hundreds of black-clad soldiers.
Fuck.
She deactivated her shield and booked it. Beads bounced off her armor every so often, but nothing punched through. They were clearly focus-firing her, but most of their shots missed altogether. In that moment speed was her greatest ally.
Then, a boom broke out that seemed like it cracked the sky itself—a heavy shell, fired from one of the tanks, impacted behind Zaina. She was far enough away to avoid the explosion, but hundreds of tiny metal pings filled her ears as her armor repulsed the shrapnel. Before she could even blink again, another tank fired off a round, this one flying right in front of her.
That was close. Definitely don’t want to get hit by one of those.
She kept sprinting back toward the enclave, winding and weaving and never running in a straight line—if she let her path become predictable she didn’t stand a chance of making it another hundred yards, much less surviving.
She was steadily losing her attackers, putting more ground between herself and their advance. Now their frothing shouts and jeers were in the distance, though the occasional scrap bead still whizzed too close to her head for comfort. It struck her that she was running back toward the fire, and probably gaining ground on it.
One problem at a time, I guess.
Zaina looked toward the mountain, which was now less obscured—she was close. She had to keep going.
Without a second thought she sprinted toward the enclave. The smoke was thicker, so she lowered her mask. When the fire came into view, she ran faster—now she was chasing it. Then, right before running back into the inferno, she jumped, leaping into the sky with reckless abandon—she was bound to cover at least forty feet, but it wasn’t enough. Right when she began to descend, she activated her rocket boots, zooming forward and over the fire. On impacting the ground she tucked and rolled perfectly, allowing her to transition into a breakneck sprint.
The trees streamed past—there was no time to think. Zaina made it through the treeline within minutes. The dig-site was quite different now—all the heavy machinery was arranged in a semi-circle around the temple entrance. A scrap bead bounced off her left pauldron—it had come from the enclave. More rifles were poking through openings in the defensive wall—Zaina gulped. The enclave was seeing her in lancer armor for the first time—they didn’t know it was her.
Would it honestly make a difference at this point?
There was only one way to find out.
She quickly lifted her helmet. “Stop! It’s me, Zaina!”