Gears of War: Ascendance Read online

  Kait heaved against the binding tentacles. No use. No point.

  She turned, looked for anything, had to get out, had to run, had to find—

  Oscar. He sat a dozen feet away, his back to her. He held a fish in his hands, ran a knife along its length and let the innards spill out. There was a laugh.

  She couldn’t call to him. He was already gone. The fish fell to the ground, flopped around, whole again but gasping. Not its place. Not its time.

  A glow. Warmth on her cheek. Salvation. She turned to it, basked, saw two figures running toward her. Fleeing something hidden in the shadows.

  She knew them. Gabe and Reyna.

  Father.

  Mother.

  They ran. Ran to her. Ran at her. Not fleeing. Charging. Taloned hands splayed for—

  From somewhere deep inside herself, Kait heard laughter.

  Booming, awful laughter.

  Kait heard...

  KAIT HEARD.

  “KAIT!”

  2: A DIFFERENT KIND OF HORIZON

  “Kait!”

  She sat bolt upright, breathing hard. “What is it? Snatcher? Juvies?”

  “A Raven,” JD said. “Our ride.” He knelt next to her, holding out a canteen. Kait took it and drank deep, turned, and spat the liquid against the wall.

  “What is this?”

  “Coffee,” he said.

  “I beg to differ.”

  “Didn’t say it was good.”

  She spat the rest of it onto the floor and shoved the canteen back into his hand.

  “You okay?” he asked. “Bad dream?”

  “No,” she said instinctively. “Not… just, never mind. Okay?” She didn’t wait for his response. Pushing to her feet, Kait stood and stretched. Sleeping in armor wasn’t something she’d done up until a few days ago, and it sucked. The others didn’t seem bothered by it, but then they all had a lot more experience.

  Finding her way to the kitchen she grabbed a jug of actual water, first washing away the horrid “coffee” taste, then drinking deeply as if she could drown that ugly dream. It didn’t work, but it quenched her thirst. Kait pinched the bridge of her nose to will her headache away. Lack of sleep, for the second night in a row. It was going to catch up with her.

  Marcus knocked on the door jamb. “You coming?” he asked. He didn’t make it sound rhetorical. He was asking, genuinely, if she would stay with them.

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” she replied. “For now at least.” He studied her, and Kait studied him back. “Are you going to tell Jinn about this house? The COG gear?”

  He grunted a laugh, shook his head. “Hell no. Outsiders are welcome to it, far as I’m concerned.”

  Kait nodded. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  For two hours the Raven flew.

  It seemed as if everyone else thought such transport was normal. They all fell asleep within minutes of lift-off, and for a long time she sat there with her eyes closed and her head pressed back into the wall, pretending to do the same. Pretending this was all normal. Just a little jaunt to the big city for a pow-wow with the First Minister.

  No big deal.

  A nasty bump of turbulence sent Kait’s pulse hammering. Cole and Marcus stirred. The old friends were seated next to each other and began to talk in low voices. Mostly Cole did the talking, and the laughing, but now and then Marcus got a few words in. Once Kait even saw him grin and chuckle at something the other man had said.

  Eventually they both drifted off again.

  All her life Kait had been with the Outsiders. Born and bred, as they said. Being part of a group, a family, was something she’d always known. She only ever felt alone when she’d go off into the forest to hunt, or to explore the caves behind the windmills. It never occurred to her that she could be part of a group, and feel alone at the same time.

  Quietly undoing her harness, she found her footing and walked up to the cockpit, one hand on a strap attached to the ceiling to keep herself steady. It took a few minutes for the pilot to realize she was standing there. The co-pilot picked up on it then, too.

  “Something the matter, ma’am?” the pilot asked.

  “Nope,” Kait said to her. “Can’t sleep. Just enjoying the view.”

  The two women exchanged a glance and the co-pilot shrugged. Kait figured this view was the norm for them. She resisted the urge to ask what the area below was called. A screen on the dash displayed a map, scrolling slowly as the Raven flew, but there were no names on it, just incomprehensible symbols and strings of numbers.

  Looking out the windows she had a 180-degree view from here, and really it didn’t look that much more impressive than what she’d see after hiking up a mountain with Reyna and Oscar. Endless rolling hills, mountains in the distance, a lake over that way and a forest over there. Somewhere beyond would be deserts, oceans, and more.

  The Raven shifted, the tone of the engines rising. The pilot began to murmur into her headset—codified language that was beyond Kait’s understanding, save for the most salient fact. They were about to reach the Jacinto Plateau.

  “Might want to buckle in,” the woman said to her. “We’ll be landing soon.”

  Kait frowned. “Can I stay? I want to see.”

  “Never been to New Ephyra?”

  “Never been to a city.”

  At that they both turned, looked her up and down, then turned back to their instruments, no further judgment required.

  “Suit yourself,” the pilot finally said. “But keep a hand on the—”

  “I will,” Kait replied, cutting her off, already tired of being treated like the ignorant newcomer. She promised herself then and there that she’d take this all in her stride, play it cool, be just like any other soldier—

  “Holy shit,” she said.

  The pilot smirked.

  “Holy…” Kait repeated, and then words failed her entirely.

  Any of the things they were approaching might have struck her speechless on their own, but all viewed together—all at once—it was overwhelming. She gripped the strap above her tighter and leaned in, willing her brain to focus on one thing at a time.

  In the far distance, massive sheer walls of rock rose up to angular mountains, their peaks lost in golden clouds, their valleys lost in deep shadow. Specks of white swirled and spiraled in the air like dust motes in a beam of sunlight. Birds, she realized. Thousands of them, scattering or settling in equal number.

  Closest to her vantage point were the ruins. The old city of Ephyra. It stretched across the entire plateau, as thick as the densest forest. All crumbling stone and burned wooden structures, paved roads cratered and strewn with debris. In places the damage from past wars was abundantly obvious. Huge rents in the ground, jagged shards of granite the size of large homes jutting up through buildings, roads, or whatever else happened to be above them when the Locust Horde came up through the ground and savaged this place.

  Matching these eruptions of rock were the craters left by dropped bombs or, perhaps, the horrific damage caused by the Hammer of Dawn weapon. Great scorched paths meandered across the landscape, nothing standing in their wake. She glimpsed teams of robots slaving away at the demolition of old ruined structures.

  Yet all of this—the majestic granite cliffs and the seemingly endless ruins—paled compared to the new city that had risen up from the ashes. The walls registered first, for she’d seen something like them at Settlement 5. The massive barriers gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight, practically daring enemies to test their strength. They were cliffs in their own right, made by human hand. Or rather, by construction robots built by Damon Baird’s DB Industries.

  As the aircraft rose to pass over this barricade, she noticed inner walls like spokes of a great wheel, dividing the city into pie-slice sections. They passed over the outer wall, and Kait leaned over to look down. The contrast with the ruins just outside was remarkable. New Ephyra was, in some ways, simply a gigantic version of the settlements she’d been to, which made sense given the automated construction techniques. Still, the scale of it boggled her mind. Buildings by the hundreds, citizens by the thousands. The people moved about like ants, strolling on pristine streets or plazas, gathering in squares. Many—rather shockingly many—pushed baby strollers.

  There was a terraced garden where elegantly dressed people sat in neat rows watching an entertainment of some kind, quietly admiring the performers. Seconds later a massive arena passed below, where thousands undulated in triumph as bots played Thrashball before them. Banners streamed for one team color or the other, and the crowd seemed to react to the game as if they comprised a single organism.

  “What do you think?” JD asked.

  She jumped a little, and wondered how long he’d been standing next to her. Kait tried for an air of indifference.

  “Pretty big.”

  JD chuckled. “You’re such a bad liar.”

  Kait punched his shoulder. “It is pretty big, you moron.”

  “Huge, you mean.”

  “If you insist.”

  “A lot bigger than Fort Umson, huh?” Her village, he meant. Its historical name. Kait shot him a side eye.

  “Somehow I doubt that’s a good thing.”

  The sound of the engine changed, evidence of their imminent arrival. Behind them the others began to stir, and gather their things.

  Kait nodded forward. “What’s the building in the center?”

  JD glanced that way, squinting against the setting sun. “That’s Jinn’s place.” At the swift rise of her eyebrows he went on. “Government offices, I mean. COG central headquarters, among other things. Her home is… actually, I don’t know where she lives. Wouldn’t surprise me if it was under her desk.”

  The building dwarfed everything else, domed roofs o
f blue and gold catching the late-day sunlight, surrounded by white balconies and garden terraces. All roads seemed to lead there, which Kait assumed was some kind of metaphor for power and wealth.

  The Raven banked suddenly and turned, skirting the central palace and continuing past it. This side of the city had a grand view of the mountains, and the homes were built higher to take full advantage. With each passing second the mansions grew in size and elegance. It seemed to her that each one strove to outdo the last, and many appeared to be big enough to contain the entirety of the village that had been her home.

  The contrast hit her then. The simplicity of her Outsider village, with its functional buildings and meandering dirt paths, everything just close enough together to make it all defensible, but not so close that you couldn’t get some privacy. It had grown throughout her life, but always with a mind toward the growth of both the community and the individual. Here it seemed the opposite, as if citizens only hoped to add their own distinctive mark to the place. Perhaps with buildings being so close together, it was a natural reaction to want to find other ways to make them stand apart. It was like a giant, gilded prison.

  And there, ahead and below, was the grandest mansion of them all.

  “Baird’s place,” JD said. “We’ll be safe there.”

  Kait thought of the devastation just outside the big wall, and almost called JD out on the truth of his remark, but then she realized he wasn’t talking about the Swarm. He was talking about Jinn. They’d spent the last week fighting her as much as the Swarm. Kait herself was an Outsider. An outlaw in the COG’s eyes, though the First Minister had turned something of a blind eye to such things—until people started disappearing. The moment that started happening, Jinn assumed only the Outsiders could be responsible, and reacted with a show of force that nearly destroyed Kait’s village. The attack had been fought off, but the damage was immense, leaving the place vulnerable to the Swarm.

  Despite her “criminal” status, JD and Del had even more to worry about, having abandoned the Coalition in the aftermath of what happened at Settlement 2. By the laws of this government, Jinn had the right to throw all of them in jail for a long, long time. Probably even Marcus. So it definitely wouldn’t hurt to be the guests of Damon Baird.

  “Not bad, huh?” Baird asked. He’d come up behind them, leaning in between Kait and JD. “A little cramped, but me and Sam somehow manage to get by.”

  Across the cabin Sam snorted. “So many empty rooms, it’s almost like we should fill them.”

  Baird grinned, shaking his head slightly at the same time. He chose—wisely, Kait thought—not to respond.

  “These DeeBees of yours,” Kait started.

  “They’re Jinn’s, not mine,” he corrected.

  “We’re not even across the city yet and I think I’ve seen more of them than actual people.”

  He nodded, a mixture of both pride and concern on his face. “Jinn’s a little obsessed. It started with the dangerous stuff. Policing, defense, that sort of thing. Lately, though, any task with even a small risk of injury seems to be on her list. Construction, maintenance, hell, even Thrashball, though that doesn’t take much skill.”

  “You wanna go, little man?” Cole asked, not asleep after all.

  Below, squads of DeeBees patrolled the streets and stood guard at nearly every corner, their Watcher-class brethren floating just above, seeing all.

  Baird, ignoring Cole, went on. “The government relies on the bots for just about everything these days. Leaves us human citizens to enjoy our lives, safe from harm or the hardship of any physical effort.”

  Kait understood the scale of Baird’s leverage then. For Jinn to cross him, the supplier of all this labor, would put her plans in jeopardy.

  The aircraft cleared the wall of the Baird estate, the ground below giving way to a vast garden. Meandering footpaths flowed around copses of perfectly arranged trees and plants. Kait saw several ponds where fish swam lazily in circles. At the far end of that serene place all the paths converged into a wide, flat lawn, and just beyond that the mansion rose up. Four stories of sand-colored walls lined with white-framed windows and at least a dozen balconies.

  “That’s weird,” Baird said.

  “What is?” JD asked.

  “Didn’t ask for a welcoming party.” Baird nodded toward the lawn.

  The space that would soon be their landing pad was lined on three sides by mechanical Shepherds, each facing inward, holding Shock Enforcers across their chests. Kait had seen the robots many times in the last few days, and destroyed a good percentage of them. The Shepherd variety were built as peacekeepers, not warriors, and as such didn’t have the programming required to deal with an opponent that would fight back.

  Still, she couldn’t help but feel a knot forming in her gut at the sight of so many of them, and the tone in Baird’s voice didn’t help, either. Something was wrong.

  The Raven settled onto the grass, the whine of its engines immediately receding. Marcus yanked the side door open and frowned at the line of security. There were dozens, all facing them, all in a neat row, all identical save the one in the middle.

  Kait had seen this kind of DeeBee before, too.

  The robot stepped forward, and the head-sized screen where its face should be lit up with a live image of First Minister Mina Jinn.

  “Welcome back, Damon,” the woman said through her metallic blue Command Bot.

  Baird spread his hands. “What’s with the armed greeting? I thought you said ‘safe passage.’”

  “Precisely,” she replied. “They’re here to escort you all to my offices.” Then she added, “Safely.”

  “I think we can manage our way there without help.” Marcus Fenix folded his arms across his chest.

  To Kait’s surprise, Jinn nodded, and even bowed slightly, acknowledging the truth of Marcus’s words. The machine straightened up and its head turned to take them all in.

  “The truth is, I feel it’s important that we talk before you have contact with others here in the city,” Jinn said. “A lot has happened in the last few days, but news of it has not yet reached New Ephyra. It is my desire to—”

  “—to bury it,” Marcus finished for her. “Cover it up. Is that it?”

  “No,” Jinn said patiently. The screen showed her shaking her head. “To make sure we understand what we’re facing before the news is released. Whether true or not, tales of a Locust burial site becoming active again after twenty-five years might have a way of spreading and becoming more than tales. Rumors can’t be controlled. But rumors can cause panic, and panic in an enclosed city like this is not a healthy thing.”

  Marcus looked to Baird.

  Baird looked to Marcus.

  JD sighed. “Are we under arrest or not?” he asked.

  “Oh, most definitely not,” she said, maybe a bit too emphatically. “I merely ask that you refrain from interacting with the general populace before we’ve had a chance to discuss what happened.”

  “What’s still happening,” Marcus corrected.

  “Either way, the public should not be informed until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. Please, at least give me a few hours. I’m waiting for you here at my office. The Shepherds will, well, shepherd you here.”

  “We can’t even grab a shower first?” Cole asked.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Will there be refreshments at least?”

  Kait saw the briefest flash of anger cross Jinn’s face, but the politician reined it in with practiced speed.

  “Of course.”

  3: BAD MEMORIES

  The Shepherds took them through an underground service entrance at the back of the government building. Four elevators waited at the heart of the basement, doors open, DeeBees both inside and out. Kait stood silently as her lift rose up through the palatial structure. In the car with her were Baird and Samantha, who talked in low voices about the mundane issue of which suite of rooms each of their guests would receive once they all returned to the Baird estate.

  “Something on the ground floor for me, please,” Kait said.

  They both glanced at her. Sam nodded.

  “Sure thing. Problem with heights?”

  Kait almost laughed at that, but managed to hold it in. She, JD, and Del had experienced enough battles and narrow escapes—on ledges, ladders, ropes, and even a giant metal gear—to last a lifetime. She shook her head for Sam’s benefit.