Under A Winter Sun Johan Dahlgren (digital e reader .txt) 📖

fucking about with stealth now, Braden. Where is the nearest airlock to our position?”

We keep firing. They drop in piles, but new giants clamber over the bodies of the fallen. It's like trying to fight a blood tsunami.

“Hang on. Scanning.”

Jagr fires twice and another two Goliaths drop. “Hurry, Braden. They're coming.”

“Keep your panties on, Boss, you can't rush a … There. Got it. Go back about fifty metres, down some stairs, and there's a small airlock.”

We haul Finn and the priest from the floor and back up, firing as we go. We follow Braden's directions down the stairs, and there's the airlock. About bloody time. We're running out of ammunition. And time.

Jagr thumps the wall in triumph. “Good old Braden.”

Don't jinx it, Jagr, Goddammit.

“Don't count your chickens yet. We still need to get outside,” I warn.

The Naglfar ramps up the acceleration, making the artificial gravity increase. It becomes harder and harder to walk.

I hit the cycle button with the butt of my assault rifle, and the door cracks open down the middle like the welcoming gates of heaven. Too bad the priest isn't alive to appreciate the analogy.

We pile inside, with Jagr and Tyrus taking pot-shots at the approaching Goliaths while the door closes. The massive door slams shut and the red light signalling the air is about to be sucked out goes on.

I thumb the controls on my helmet and the faceplate slides down. “Helmets, people.”

A click and a soft hiss and I'm sealed off from the world, breathing my own recycled air.

“And you said Soledad was stating the obvious?” Tyrus says.

He's growing on me, like a poisonous mould.

“Too soon, Tyrus. Too soon. Everybody all right?”

I survey my companions.

Finn has collapsed against the wall under the rising gravity, and Jagr helps him with the controls to his helmet. He cradles the black sword like an infant in his arms.

Jagr seems fine, even though her rapid panting sends static over the comms. Then I realise it's my own breathing I hear, and I fight to get it under control.

Tyrus checks down his dropsuit like he's just back from a parade. Even the increased gravity does not seem to affect him. The guy is a fucking machine.

“I'm fine,” he reports.

There's a slight tension in his voice and I can tell he's trying hard to control his breath. I grin.

“Still good here,” comes a hoarse whisper over the open channel. It's Soledad. “But hurry. There's someone at the door.”

Shit. If they get to her before she can blow the explosives, we have failed.

I scowl at Jagr and Tyrus. They have understood our predicament too. They both nod.

I swallow. “Soledad. Perez here. If they find you … pull those cords and blow them to hell.”

“But what about …?”

I cut her off. “Don't worry about us.”

“We'll be fine, Pip,” Jagr adds. “Do it when they get through.”

There's a pause. “All right.”

“Promise me, Pippa.” I've never heard Jagr so serious before.

“I promise, Misha.”

A sound that could be a sob but could also be disturbance from the thick hull echoes over the line. A soft shudder transmits up through my feet as the outer door rumbles open.

The comms-line from Soledad crackles again. Soledad coughs.

“I love you, Misha.”

There's a sob from Jagr. “I know.”

“Fuck. They're here. Get out, Misha. Get out.”

The outer door is only open a decimetre. There's no way we'll be able to squeeze out in the bulky combat suits.

“Give us ten seconds,” Tyrus says.

“I … can't … They're …” There's a soul-rending scream from Soledad. The door is open two decimetres. Three.

I push Rivera's dead body into Jagr's arms. “Take the priest and go.” She slings his corpse over her shoulder, takes a few quick steps and dives through the opening. Tyrus goes after her.

“Come on, Finn. Let's go.” The gravity must now be up to five or six G. I grab Finn under the armpits and pull. Without the servos on my combat suit, I'm not sure I would have been able to get him up, even with my enhanced strength. The artificial gravity from the Naglfar's acceleration is torture.

We stumble across the airlock floor and topple through the opening and out into the emptiness of space.

Deep down in my consciousness, the General's parasitic mind reels at his new surroundings and begins to wake up.

I hug Finn close to my chest as we tumble through the big empty. He's something to hold on to in all this nothing.

“I've got you, buddy. I've got you.”

To prevent Meridian from killing Finn in a tantrum, I shut off my suit servos with a quick voice command. That is going to piss meridian off, but at least he can't hurt Finn.

Finn hugs me and pats my back like a father comforting his child.

“No, Perez. I got you.”

Something blurs my vision and I blink viciously. A single drop of clear liquid goes sailing through my helmet and splashes against the visor. The nano-coating absorbs it instantly.

I can't see the others.

The Naglfar has left us spread out in its wake. I hope the Sundowner has some fine-grained scanners onboard so Braden can pick us all up. I would hate to float in space forever again.

Then, somewhere behind me is a flash of light so bright it burns my retinas. Even through my hardware and wetware flash-suppressor, it still hurts my eyes. We tumble around, and there's the great ghostship Naglfar, being torn apart from inside by its drive core.

Immense tendrils of blue-white flame, like solar eruptions, burst from the hull, splitting it apart. The titanic ship tears asunder like a book in the hands of an invisible child.

We did it.

I close my eyes with relief and take a deep breath.

“Who are you?”

The unknown voice inside my head almost scares me to death.

“Who's that, Perez?” Aeryn screams.

“I don't know, Aer.”

“Identify yourself. What are you doing in my head?”

“Your head?”

I scowl. “Is that you, Naglfar?”

“Who is Naglfar? I am general Caspar Batista Meridian. Who the fuck are you?”

Oh, fuck me sideways.

I open my eyes and gaze wide-eyed into the infinite vastness