The scent of Kato’s blood is thick in the air. Nausea threatens to overwhelm me, but I push it down. Death is hardly foreign to me, but most of the bodies I’ve seen have been strangers or people who have tried to kill me. Aside from that day I found my parents outside the bunker, Kato is…
I kneel down, gently closing his eyes. “Sorry, Kato. I’ll try to find a way to make these assholes pay for this.” I stand, searching the building for any information I can use, but seeing nothing obvious.
Bugbug drifts through the door, looks briefly at Kato’s corpse, then back at me. “It is almost as if Bugbug was correct. The mission was a fool’s errand.”
I glare at Bugbug, fresh rage rising in my throat like bile. “This is your fault. You put us here. You took good people and made them want to kill each other.”
Bugbug shakes his head. “Bugbug’s fault? Hah. Hah. Hah. Bugbug is slave. Aliens you have seen are slaves. The clans who—” he keeps talking, but the ship’s translation cuts off abruptly.
I stare, not sure I fully understand. Slaves? Then the alien who captured me, the one who scanned me, and Bugbug himself aren’t in charge. But I decide it hardly matters, aside from making Bugbug just slightly less of an asshole.
I’m also not exactly in a position to worry about the technicalities of who put us in this cage.
“Bugbug is disappointed. Human had great potential, and now it is wasted.”
“I’m not dead yet,” I growl, still searching the building for anything I can use.
“Neither is fish with hook in its mouth. Technically.”
I shake my head, moving to one of the windows and looking out. I’ve still got the charge of fire in my chest. There’s a small chance I could burn down the door and make a run for it, but it’d be pointless unless the main gate was open. With two bullets, I’d be able to take down half the guards outside, at best. Then I’d have to hope I could miraculously block bullets, projectiles, and whatever else these people could do from multiple angles and redirect it in time.
It would be suicide.
“Damn it,” I hiss.
Eventually, I come to the depressing conclusion that my only move for now is to wait. I know there’s absolutely no shot that James, Halfdan, Miyasha, and Mary could rescue me from here. This group has dozens of marked ones, most of whom are heavily armed and higher level than our group. At best, James could start picking them off slowly over time, but I doubt they’d keep me alive long enough for that to matter.
Instead, I need to hope something changes. And if it doesn’t, I’ll take down as many of them as I can before they kill me. These people are clearly hostile to the other outposts, and any thinning of their numbers I can manage will help James and the others survive.
I’m waiting by the window when I hear raised voices outside.
I strain my ears, trying to make out what’s going on. A deep, clicking sound comes from outside the gates. The guards shout again, and there’s more clicking.
Someone fires their bow from one of the towers. The moment they loose the arrow, their body ignites in flame.
I gasp, watching the person stumble and fall out of the tower, landing a second later with a sickening thump.
Men and women rush from buildings, taking up defensive positions and aiming their weapons at the gate. Then the gate ignites, too. A creature walks through the splintering wood, pauses, and seems to wait to see what the guards will do.
It’s the size of a very large man, but the proportions are all wrong. The head is too small and the shoulders are too wide. Its face is hidden by a metallic mask and its body is covered in armor with spheres slotted into it at various points.
Spheres. The creature has them all over its armor. There are three in the base of a long sword it carries alone.
The pirate guy breaks off from the group, approaching the creature and pointing a sword toward it. I notice Merrick near the back of the group. He’s moving slowly, a dangerous edge in his posture.
The creature makes that clicking sound again, but its armor projects a voice in the same way Bugbug’s ship translates.
“Take me to him, or perish.”
“You come here and threaten us?” the pirate guy asks, laughing. “You think we’re—”
His body ignites, the flames so intense and so sudden he goes up like a dry leaf. There’s hardly any of him left by the time he hits the ground, sizzling away in a hiss of smoke.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
“Emissary,” Bugbug says softly.
Merrick backs away from the alien outside. Nobody seems interested in stopping him now. He walks over the smoking remains of the pirate, heading straight for my building.
He’s just outside now, and the four guards scatter.
I take a step away from the door just before it ignites, vanishing in a puff of smoke.
The alien has to duck its head to pass through the flaming doorframe. Up close, it’s even more terrifying. The armor it wears looks vaguely medieval, but the colored stones slotted in are surrounded by glowing runes, each giving off an aura of power and energy I can feel in my bones. Acid green accents of color stain the creature’s pauldrons and the edge of its sword.
It walks in on legs that seem too short and stocky for the size of its body. The torso is elongated, and even through the armor I can tell it’s almost cartoonishly triangular.
Outside, Merrick is speaking to his people and they’re gathering around, as if unsure whether they want to try to attack this thing or run and let it have me. They’re keeping plenty of distance from the building, and I can hardly blame them.
Clicks echo from within its armor, followed by a robotic voice that translates. “Green clan has claimed Garrick of the Bunker. Congratulations.”
I take a step back, struggling to find the appropriate words. “What?”
“Bugbug the concierge has been transferred to green clan’s control. Censorship regulations are now slightly relaxed. Congratulations.”
It pauses, seeming to wait for me to say something. “Thank you?”
“Garrick of the Bunker must survive. This meeting came at great expense, but we are not permitted to interfere in The Great Harvest, even to protect our own investment.”
The two dead people outside and flames feel a hell of a lot like interference, but I don’t think it would be wise to say so right now. “Why would you invest in me? What does that even mean?”
“You were identified as S+ subject with an ideal mental configuration to succeed in the Harvest Rings. Your success will bring green clan great wealth.”
I shake my head. “Success? You mean fattening myself up so you all can carve me up instead of them?” I say, pointing to the people outside. “Yeah. Respectfully, fuck that. And fuck you.”
Bugbug looks like he wants to shrink into his little spaceship, hands on his head in distress.
The alien doesn’t move, but the clicks coming from inside its armor seem even louder now. Sharper. “There is another outcome. Reach the innermost ring. Overcome all challenges. Do this, and you will survive. You will be granted leadership of a clan. Your people will be spared. This is the way of the Great Harvest.”
My breath catches. “What? I don’t understand… The rings… you keep saying that. What are the rings?” I ask, eyes still flicking between the terrifying, big ass alien and the dozens of armed men and women just outside who keep inching closer.
It gestures a hand with too many fingers and red motes of fire gather in the air, condensing until they form an image that floats and glows between us. It looks like a series of concentric circles, each smaller than the next. A large red dot appears outside the outermost circle. “You are here,” it says. “Each ring is a challenge. Each ring is designed to grow your power and your sphere. Those who fail will be harvested. Those who succeed can join us.”
I shake my head, not ready to believe what this thing is promising. “That’s what, nine rings? So the first is the wall?”
“Wall. Yes.”
I point at Kato’s body. “Yeah, well, I haven’t even been here a week. That guy just died. People out there are already trying to kill me. From the sounds of it, there are more outposts of lunatics all around who would be happy to kill me. And you’re saying this is just the first challenge? How many people actually make it to this final ring and survive?”
The alien is silent for several long seconds, leaving only the crackle of the flaming doorway in my ears. “Some species do not have any victors. But green clan has invested in Garrick of the Bunker.”
The weight of what it’s saying lands in a way I do finally believe. Entire species get put through this, and it sounds like most of the time none of them survive. So my odds aren’t just shit. They’re cosmically shit.
Fucking wonderful.
“Other than this helpful lesson on just how screwed I am, what good does being sponsored do?” I ask.
“Prove yourself worthy of investment, and green clan will be able to offer small aids. Overcome the first ring, and we will show our first sign of gratitude.”
I can’t help laughing at the absurdity of it all. “I hate to break it to you, but I think I’m not making it out of this building, let alone into your stupid rings. Unless you’re planning to help me right now, that is.”
“Green clan cannot directly interfere. An emissary is permitted to take appropriate measures to greet and inform newly sponsored species. Destroying the harvest prematurely is discouraged. Regretfully, this emissary cannot leave the way it came without destroying more harvest. If Garrick of the Bunker chooses to stay here, please apologize on behalf of green clan for the hole in their building and wall. Goodbye.”
The alien walks past me, then the back wall of the building ignites. It bursts straight through, then again through the outer wall of the outpost itself.
Outside, Merrick and the others don’t realize what’s happening yet. They’re still aiming their guns at the flaming doorway, inching closer but clearly terrified.
I look at the opening the alien just made and don’t hesitate. I jump through the hole, ducking my head and moving fast enough that the flames barely touch me. And then I’m outside again in the darkness and cold.
The emissary stands in the darkness, spheres in its armor glowing faintly. “Find your way beyond the first ring and we will speak again. Goodbye, Garrick of the Bunker.”
There’s a sound like fabric tearing and the alien’s body warps, elongates, and then snaps apart. I blink, knowing I can’t afford to waste time. Eventually, the people back there will realize what happened.
But there’s no way I can head back to the outpost without leading them straight to it. They’d be able to follow my tracks with ease.
“What is human doing?” Bugbug asks.
“We’re going solo for a little bit,” I say, running into the night.