someone who posed no threat.
He was surprised by the result as yet another explosion, this one even louder, sounded from within the armor. He jumped back, alert to whatever danger might be posed by the discharge, but he needn’t have concerned himself. The armor contained the detonation. It bent outward slightly, bulges appearing all over it. Other than that, aside from the muffled noise, no one would have known that anything untoward was transpiring. Indeed M’k’n’zy, standing a short distance away and looking on in confusion, wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened. He couldn’t tell whether the second explosion had been some biological follow-up—perhaps a cataclysmic release of internal gasses—or if it had been some sort of fail-safe within the armor itself, determining that the warrior within was no longer capable of functioning and self-detonating to prevent enemy capture. Either way, it was the final movement that the downed combatant made.
M’k’n’zy allowed himself only the briefest moment of relief, a quick exhalation in a situation where others might have needed to take a few minutes to compose themselves. It wasn’t as if near-death experiences were uncommon for those who walked the same path that M’k’n’zy did. But it was a somber fact that M’k’n’zy seemed to have far more close scrapes with death than the average individual.
He briefly considered the idea of trying to drag his fallen opponent with him. Perhaps someone else might have some thoughts as to how to crack open the armor. He then dismissed the idea in short order, for two reasons: First, the surface of the armor was still hot to the touch, and waiting around for it to cool down—presuming it ever did—simply was not an option. And second, the armored figure was just too damned heavy. If he had an antigravity sled or maybe about a dozen extra hands, it might have been feasible. But he possessed none of those things, and so dismissed the idea.
Leaving the body behind, he continued to the backup rendezvous point. It was a network of caves at the base of the Tower Rim, a mountain range that had often served him in the past as a refuge where he could elude pursuit.
As he ran, doing his best to stick to concealment, he was already developing new strategies to use against the enemy, new ambushes that might be planned, and new ways to marshal his forces as effectively as possible. There was never a moment where M’k’n’zy considered the notion that his people might be defeated and that he himself would fall before the weaponry of the enemy. He was prepared for setbacks. Everyone had them. But there was no question in his mind that he would eventually triumph.
He encountered none of the enemy as he made his way to the Tower Rim. He wondered if this was simple happenstance or if it was indicative of something bigger. Was there a possibility that they had withdrawn from Xenex entirely? If that was the case, then how had he happened to encounter and kill one of them? Perhaps he was the last one remaining on the planet’s surface, separated from the rest of his squadron, and they’d had the poor luck to run into each other. At least the other guy’s luck wound up being poorer than mine, M’k’n’zy thought grimly.
It seemed to M’k’n’zy that the sun had not moved in its path across the sky, as if time itself had come to a halt.
He made it to the base of the Tower Rim, so named for the unusually tall peaks that dotted the area. It was one of his favorite hiding places, since the height of the rocky spires that surrounded them made aerial attack problematic. The spires provided some degree of protection. Even if enemies got it in their heads to carpet bomb the entire area, the network of caves that threaded through the Rim afforded considerable protection.
He arrived at the mouth of the cave entrance where he was expecting to see his people. The stench of death wafted through the air.
“No,” he whispered, as he froze there in a rare instance of uncertainty as to what to do next. He wanted to believe that his senses were wrong. Or it could have been that he was detecting the remains of some random animal rather than what he was afraid that he perceived.
It only took moments for his olfactory senses to confirm for him, however, that his first impressions were exactly correct. The contents of the