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Glass

“You must have suffered greatly," Glass said lowly as his electric wheelchair hummed down the hallway. “I am sorry, nephew. I could not protect your mother."

Abel followed, his legs moving autonomously. He could not think, his mind was scrambled with emotions, none of which seemed to win out over the over save for confusion.

This man was his uncle, a human family member, and Abel had no reason to think he was lying.

But he was also a terrorist. At least, that's what the Guard and the Claw said about him and the folks who associated with Glass directly didn't give Abel a lot of relief regarding their theories of human-alien relations in a post-occupation Earth.

While Glass seemed to be warm to Abel, the guards behind him were not. Abel could feel their cold eyes staring at the back of his head. Able wasn't sure if they mistrusted him or they were just doing their jobs, but it was definitely not a welcome sign.

Glass's wheelchair pivoted to the right and rolled into an open doorway. Abel followed him into an empty cafeteria with faded Cyrillic letters painted on the walls. A magnetic board with no letters on it rested above a counter on the far end of the room, making it look more like a Soviet-era cafeteria than a mess hall.

Two bowls of buckwheat and beef along with steaming cups of tea were on a table. Glass wheeled up to one of them while a guard grabbed a chair for Abel to sit at.

“Could you leave us be?" Glass weakly smiled at the guards.

A hesitant nod and the guards slowly left the room.

“You haven't said anything," Glass said.

Abel opened his mouth but there were no thoughts to put to words.

“I know it must be overwhelming," Glass's withered arm raised, shaking like a tree branch in the wind, and slowly reached for the spoon sticking out of the bowl. “I was paralyzed...joke not intended...when I saw your face for the first time."

“When you saw my face?" Abel finally asked.

Glass nodded and scooped up a mound of buckwheat. Wincing, he lifted the spoon slowly.

Abel reached out, stopping just before the bowl, “Can I help you?"

“Ah, no," Glass hissed, his left hand digging into his chest to dull the pain, “thank you, but the pain reminds me of what I must do."

After an agonizing moment, Glass placed the buckwheat in his mouth and chewed.

Swallowing, Glass let his arm go slack and placed the spoon back in the bowl, “You were asking when I saw your face?"

Abel nodded.

“Stein sent a copy of your datapad to one of my agents."

Abel's back went cold. All communications with Brolath were encrypted and deleted from the cache as soon as transmission ended but there was always the danger of some trace being left behind.

“He saw a recording of you talking with that..." Glass grimaced, “...fox. The agent thought the story the fox was telling sounded familiar and sent it to me. I knew it was you right away, even before the creature described your mother's death. Stein wanted to kill you, I had to intervene."

Yin has a name.

“Yin told me that was my father lying there next to her," Abel swallowed, “but that was you?"

“Yes."

“Yin said you were dead."

“I think..." Glass looked up at the ceiling, “...I think I was."

Once again, Glass slowly lifted his arm, this time to the scarf covering his forehead. His breath went hoarse from pain as he traced a circle around the scarf.

“I was shot here after an alien shot me in the lung. Everything went black," Glass carefully lowered his arm. “I awoke some time later, it was nighttime. It has been nighttime for me ever since."

Clutching at his chest, Glass continued, “By all means, I died. I am a man of science but it was nothing short of a miracle that I awoke, especially without medical treatment. And that was before I had to escape the city."

“How did you do that?" Abel asked.

“The same way I eat," Glass, for the first time since Abel saw him, took his left hand away from his chest and lurched forward, grabbing the teacup with both hands, “through struggle."

The cup shook, creating a storm of tea within it, but not a drop spilled as Glass brought it to his lips and sipped before placing it back down.

“There was no one coming to rescue me, I had to crawl out of the building," Glass looked down at his legs and Abel followed his sight just as Glass twitched his right foot, “I had even less movement in my limbs back then but I had to keep moving. For days I crawled through the city, hiding during the day and moving at night. I feasted on whatever scraps I could find, drank water from the gutters. I heard the screams of people being tormented and raped all day when the Regulians patrolled the city..."

Glass began to clutch at his chest against, shutting his eyes.

“I don't know how long it took. One evening I reached an ecological reserve by the coast...I had no idea where I was going...and two humans came across me. They took me over their shoulders, they were Americans and I did not speak English well. My chest was covered in scales of glass from all the shards I had crawled across and I was in too much pain to give them my name so they called me..."

“Glass," Abel said.

“Yes..." Glass sighed, shoulders relaxing, “...I would have died without them."

Abel leaned forward, “Who were they?"

“Glass."

A woman's voice called out with a German accent of some kind. Abel turned towards the entrance of the cafeteria to find a woman standing there. She couldn't have been older than thirty but there were deep lines running out from her eyelids and her brown hair, all tied up in a bun, was showing signs of graying.

With some difficulty, Glass slowly spun his wheelchair around and motioned towards the woman in the labcoat with a limp hand, “Abel, this is Doctor Meyer, our head bio-engineer."

“Pleased to meet you," she stepped forward, heels clicking on the tiles, and extended her hand towards Abel. “Glass has spoken much about you."

Abel shook her hand as Glass softly chuckled. Her grip was firm.

“I may have gotten a little..." Glass coughed, “...overly excited to hear my nephew was alive."

“I have never seen him smile until he found out about you," Meyer released her grip and folded her hands behind her back.

Abel opened his mouth but said nothing as Meyer suddenly snapped the hand she had shook Abel's with to her nose and inhaled sharply.

“Doctor," Glass winced, “can you refrain from doing that disgusting alien crap around me? It's not good for my digestion."

Meyer hummed, “For our protection...he's clean."

She's not a Lupiad, what the hell is she doing?

“Glass, I hate to bother you, but there's an urgent communication from the Council, they're requesting you," Meyer said.

“Puta madre..." Glass craned his neck over to Abel, “...I'm sorry, I must take this. Please, make yourself at home, Abel."

Glass hit the stick on his wheelchair and whirred out of the room. Meyer remained behind, staring at Abel with steely eyes in silence.

“Can I he-"

“Ssh," Meyer cupped her ear.

The whirring noise of Glass's wheelchair grew quieter until it vanished entirely.

“You've touched two Lacertans and even copulated with them," Meyer suddenly said.

Abel dropped his spoon, “What the hell are you-"

“I won't tell. My boyfriend happens to be a Lupiad, you know, but don't tell anyone here, not that they would believe you."

These people want to kill your boyfriend…

“You're staring in disbelief, only natural," she shook her head. “We get all sorts of test subjects here and there is no point in wasting them when they expire. One afternoon I extracted the olfactory glands of a Sirian and reverse-engineered the cells to be compatible with my nose and had them transplanted."

“Bull-"

“Shit? Ask Glass, he disapproves of my body modifications, prefers a human future rather than a post-human future. We disagree on that but we both agree on Earth liberation and I happen to be the best damn bio-engineer on the planet, so he lets it slide."

Meyer grabbed a chair and sat down across from Abel, “Once the Regulians are gone we will have to withstand a potential Lacertan invasion. It is hard enough getting samples of their subjects but the lizards themselves...the Regulians don't enslave them, you see. No prisoners."

“I don't care if you sucked their cocks. Glass sure as hell would care, but he doesn't have to know that so long as we get our guinea pigs."

“So I'll ask you, Abel, where are the Lacertans?"

The blade against Brolath's neck was warm, almost hot enough to burn, even through his thick mane. Brolath had never seen action against the Lacertans but had seen enough wartime footage and propaganda to know that one flick of Asha's thumb and the blade would glow blue with plasma and slice through Brolath's neck like butter.

The Lacertans knew how to encourage one to be compliant, even if it made piloting a lift-copter awkward. Brolath could feel the green Lacertan tense up whenever he moved his paw, ready to kill the Regulian should he reach for an unknown button or lever.

“I need to hit that," Brolath slowly pointed towards a metal switch.

“What's it do?" Lashar called out. He was sitting in the co-pilot seat with his tail lazily drooping onto the floor. A marked difference from his green companion standing behind Brolath.

Brolath nodded towards the trail of muddy tire-tracks beneath them, “Stealth mode. Lowers emissions and noise."

“And you just brought this up now!?" Lashar hissed. “Yeah, sure thing kitty, just flip the magic stealth mode button you could have turned on hours ago."

Brolath reached for the switch but stopped immediately when the metal against his neck tensed.

“That was sarcasm, holy shit!" Lashar sighed. “And you people call us robots."

“Hivemind drones," Brolath corrected.

“Ah, excuse me! That's so much better!" Lashar groaned. “You still believe that shit?"

“I believe we are still enemies even if the Empire exaggerates," Brolath's stomach churned as he recalled how helpless and enslaved he was under the spell of Asha's venom. “You disgraced me in a most dishonorable way."

“Someone dear to us might be in trouble, no thanks to you."

The vehicle was silent except for the hum of the jets for a good minute before Lashar spoke again.

“You know what? I am sorry we did that to you. Really, neither of us likes to do it, it's not fun. At the same time though, we needed to find out what happened to Abel and it was either that or breaking out the plasma knife."

Asha did not so much as adjust the knife pressed up against Brolath's neck but the Regulian felt it grow hotter. Not only was it sharp enough to saw through a neck like paper but it instantly cauterized any wound it caused, making it a very effective tool for torture.

“I'm not defending it but we only had two tools and we went with the lesser evil."

“I was not lying about the stealth mode," Brolath spoke, trying to change the subject. “I didn't activate it earlier because it dramatically lowers our acceleration and speed. I felt that we needed to play catch up and now that we've been out here for hours, we're probably getting closer. It doesn't make us invisible but it'll help."

“Not a chance," Asha broke his silence.

“My mission is to stop the terrorists and unfortunately that means keeping this vehicle unseen. What do you think I'm trying to do?"

“Call for help, swerve us into the ground...who knows."

“Crashing would fail my mission. Calling for help and signaling that I'm being held hostage by Lacertans would get us shot down by a trigger happy officer for the good of the Empire. That would also fail my mission."

Lashar snorted, “I'm not b-"

A sharp explosion rang out on the left wing of the lift-copter followed by the craft rumbling and the engines quieting.

“We're hit!" Brolath shouted and tapped the status screen, ignoring the threat of decapitation. “Left jet is down, looks to be an anti-material rifle round."

“Where did it come from!?" Asha growled.

“Sensors broken and..." Brolath grunted as he gripped the controls, “...no smoke trail like from a rocket. Cannot determine. I have to go down sharp now, we're vulnerable!"

Without waiting for Asha or Lashar's approval, Brolath hit the controls hard, sending the vehicle into an angled dive. Asha tightened his grip on Brolath's neck while clamping his other hand on a raid, standing remarkable solid considering Brolath, despite being buckled in, felt like he was going to get launched out of his seat.

A robotic voice began barking repetitive orders in Lupus on the control panels. Brolath assumed it was telling him to pull up or some other nonsense. They never built these things to take proper context of the situation and of course, if they did, it would likely violate AI Laws.

“Steady..." Brolath slowly eased up on the dive as the ground swelled towards them, “...steady..."

The lift-copter steadied its descent just in time to make impact. Asha took his dagger away from Brolath's neck just before they hit the ground and grabbed the Regulian on the shoulder for balance.

As soon as the vehicle started to rumble, Brolath reversed the jets and activated the emergency brake system. Metal crunched beneath them and a spray of rocks and dirty splashed against the windshield. It felt like they were going to fall apart…

But they were slowing down.

Once they had stopped, no one dared move an inch. For Brolath, it felt unreal that he was still alive and could not believe it. Surely he must be dead.

He could not speak for the Lacertans but could see them in rear-view mirrors. They were just as frozen as he was and had their eyes shut tight. Lashar was even muttering something under his breath, perhaps a prayer to his machine god?

Asha made a hoarse clicking noise in his throat before finally opening his mouth, “We-"

Metal crunched open and the ruins of the lift-copter shook. Brolath broke out of his trace and spun his head around, looking past the large Lacertan behind him. There was a fist-sized hole in the left hull that had smoke trailing around it. A matching exit wound was in the floor on the right side.

“We're under fire!" Asha shouted, releasing his grip on Brolath and grabbing a rifle. “Anti-material round, at least one enemy, probably more with an escort! Abandon ship and take cover!"

Lashar slipped on a plastic cloak and activated the stealth component, turning nearly invisible as he had been before when Brolath first met them, “I'll find the bastard."

Asha grabbed Brolath by the shoulder and dragged him out of his seat while Lashar loudly jumped out of the vehicle and vanished into the wildnerness.

“Give me a gun, I'll help!" Brolath barked.

Asha grabbed Brolath's yellow coat, which still held his service pistol, and tossed it to Brolath.

“Turn it on me and I'll kill you," Asha leaned into Brolath's face and hissed, nostrils flaring.

“A truce, for now," Brolath snarled back.

“Quiet," Asha hissed as he stepped out of the vehicle and motioned for Brolath to sneak behind him.

Brolath crept out of the vehicle, peering both ways. They were surrounded by short hills with no obvious sign of movement on them, no trails or disturbed grass fields.

Of course, the danger was on the other side of the copter.

Asha lowered himself to a crawl and Brolath followed suit, weaving under the nose of the cockpit. Asha pressed a button on his rifle and the top rail slid open and a scope popped out.

“Hrm," Asha peered into the scope, looking at a rocky hill a good kilometer away. He tapped the side of his earhole and spoke, “likely on the hill over there, no confirmation yet."

The waiting was excruciating. A long period of nothing to focus on except the tension while the smoke from the burning left engine filled the air. Any moment another round could be fired and while it was meant to take down vehicles it would certainly put down a Regulian just as well.

They can't really be doing all this just for Abel…

Brolath's ear twitched. There was a distant rumbling, a light petroleum engine, two of them…

Asha tapped his earhole, “Lashar's spotted two humans on motorcycles heading our way. He can't take them out without revealing himself."

“Wait for them to get into range and take them out?" Brolath whispered.

“Copy."

Brolath pointed to the lower barrel of his pistol, “I have a less-lethal dart here. We should get one alive for questioning."

“Do they actually work?"

Brolath recalled the human who caught one of the electrified darts in the chest at the trailer park and fell to the ground dead.

“They're less lethal, yes."

Asha grunted, “Take them out one way or another but try to get one alive."

“Roger."

Asha darted his tongue out, running it along his scaled lips.

“Here they come, quiet."

The rumbling and two humans on motorcycles wearing kevlar helmets rode into view from the left. Brolath didn't have time to blink before an explosion burst out from the lead soldier's chest. His motorcycle slid onto its side as he collapsed and his companion just barely swerved out of the way.

The smell of smoke entering Brolath's right nostril was the only sign that Asha had fired his laser rifle. As far as anyone witnessing would be concerned, it could have been a spontaneous combustion.

Unfortunately the remaining soldier didn't believe in such urban legends, clearly. Leaping off of his motorcycle, he drew a rusty sub-machine gun with a drum magazine and ran to the left and out of sight while he sprayed bullets at Brolath and Asha.

Whether he had gotten a lucky peek of the two or was operating on pure instinct, Brolath did not know. What was certain was that a ton of antiquated, but no less deadly, bullets were hitting the ground far too close for comfort.

Brolath kept his head low as the barrage continued, hugging the side of the craft for cover. Asha's gun was an effective weapon, similar to laser guns that the Empire had, but in terms of providing suppressing fire it did not have the same loud impact that drove people to hit the dirt like the human's weapon.

It was a very logical gun, not very emotional.

Rolling back behind the debris, Brolath got to his feet run along the lift-copter, hugging the hull. He stopped just before reaching the tail and leaned as close as he could to the open space without revealing himself and sniffed the air.

Cordite, grease, sweat, fear…

The human was afraid.

Click.

Brolath emerged from cover and quickly aimed, firing off a dart. He didn't even see the human, not before he hit the ground, throwing his magazine and gun off into the dirt.

A sharp whine rang through the air as the dart sent an electrical current through the human. Brolath padded up to the tree that the human was using for cover, finding him writhing on the ground in pain but very much alive.

A twig snagged behind Brolath, forcing his ear to twitch. Asha stepped in front of Brolath and knelt down before the human with plastic bindings.

“It okay to touch him?" Asha asked as the noise began to fade.

The Lacertan kept his back to Brolath. It would have been so easy for Brolath to aim and rid the world of one more Lacertan. It would be his duty to the Empire and to Earth, for the entire galaxy.

If you let him live, you'll be a traitor.

Brolath gripped his pistol tight but he did not raise it.

They said Abel cares for them...

“Yeah, the charge is gone," Brolath finally said.

Asha grabbed the limp human's wrists and bound them behind his back.

“Lashar took care of the sniper," Asha said.

“Good."

“Now..." Asha sat on the dirt by the human, “...we wait."