Under A Winter Sun by Johan Dahlgren (ink ebook reader txt) 📕

that promise.” There's an edge to Aeryn's voice. She still hasn't come to terms with her current situation.

A jolly chirp from the nav system informs me the computer knows where we are. I pull up the map on the suit's HUD. Hmm, not too shabby. I'm about a click away from the rendezvous point. The suit did an excellent job getting me close to our objective. A small indicator pops up on my visor to show the way.

“Not too bad for Earth tech.” The engineer in Aeryn can't help being impressed. For the first time since she became self-aware, Aeryn sounds almost normal. I bet the idea of being a construct intrigues her. Maybe that's all that's keeping her from screaming.

“Yeah, I'm impressed too.”

I set off over the gravel in pursuit of the HUD indicator.

I hope the others made it. There are so many ways you can die on a suit drop.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I reach the target. The others are already there. I count five suits. Two of the suits are a lot larger than the others, and one of them has a sword on its back. One suit is much smaller. These things have a wide adjustment range, but Soledad had to work to get the Goliaths to fit.

The others look fine. No sign of this Tyrus guy. I hope he burned in the atmosphere. He sounds like a prat.

Five weapons point in my direction as I approach. Their suit sensors will have told them I'm one of the good guys, but I raise my hands just in case. We don't need any blue-on-blue kills. There will be plenty of other ways to die on this mission.

I wave to them and Rivera waves back. We go into a huddle and pull out our communications cords. I plug into the suit next to me, and the others follow suit to form a primitive ring network.

“Right.” Jagr's voice is tense. “So far so good. We're still alive, but we don't know what we're up against, so pay attention, weapons at the ready. Do not fire unless fired upon. For all we know, this could be a fucking Goliath kindergarten.”

“We don't have kindergartens,” Finn says.

“Anyway,” Jagr goes on. “According to our sources, Eirik's ship landed somewhere over there.”

I'm not sure why, but she points off into the mist. “It's a one-hour walk to the landing site. There we will get an idea of what the Goliaths are up to.”

Her helmet turns to Finn and Hildr. “And stop them.”

Hildr raises her hands, palms out. “You have no objections from us there, little woman. Whatever that cunt Eirik is up to, I want to stop him too.”

“I kill him,” Finn states in a flat voice. “No one touch him. He is mine.”

“Can't promise you anything, Goliath,” Soledad says. “I've killed all kinds of people, but never a Goliath. If I get the chance, I'll take him out.”

I wince. “Jagr. Better let Finn have Eirik. It's a cultural thing.”

Soledad's helmet turns to me. I can only guess she glares at me through the smoked face-shield. Jagr thinks it over.

“Soledad, leave Eirik to the Goliath. We don't want a claim of cultural appropriation on our hands. It's a safe bet there are more of them in there, and if this goes sideways, you will get to kill a lot of them.”

“Works for me,” Soledad says.

“Any last words before we move out?”

No one has any last words.

I look around. “Where's Tyrus?”

“Don't worry. He'll be there when we get there.” Her confidence rings slightly off. “OK, people. Move out.”

Jagr waves us on, and we follow her into the thick mist, with the communications cables stretched like thin umbilical cords between us.

* * *

An hour later, my suit's soft female voice informs me we have arrived at our destination. There's nothing there except the rim of an enormous crater. No Tyrus.

“So, where is this Typhus guy?” I ask on the open channel.

“He should be right here.” Jagr taps the console on the arm of her suit. She waits for feedback and points to a cluster of tall, jagged rocks, dimly visible like yellow ghosts in the mist. “Over there.”

She walks over to the rocks, the communication cable stretched to its limit. “That's odd.” She bends down and picks something up.

“What is it?”

She opens her hand. “It's his transponder.”

Crap. “So, he wasn't as good as you thought.”

“Say again?” an unfamiliar voice asks on the closed-circuit.

What the fuck?

I turn around, and there's a new exosuit connected to our little network, between Soledad and Hildr. Camouflage-weave drapes the suit like the shroud of a corpse, rendering it almost invisible in the yellow mist. No wonder I didn't see him in the gloom. “But you should have spotted him, Aeryn.”

“Yes, I should. That is odd.”

So, he's not an amateur. Good to know.

Tyrus' voice is hard and so sure of itself I hate him already.

“Glad you could make it.”

Soledad claps the newcomer's shoulder. “Tyrus. Good to see you.” Tyrus carries a heavy assault rifle and a huge cloth-covered sniper rifle on his back. There's a grinning skull painted over the faceplate of his helmet. The same one he had on Utopia. It still looks stupid.

Tyrus goes on. “You know why we're here. We do this smooth and by the numbers. We do it my way, or not at all.”

“And what way is that?” I ask.

“You're Perez, I take it.”

The skull on his faceplate turns my way. “So, you think you're a tough guy who doesn't take orders from anyone? You can drop that shit right now. This is my mission. If you don't follow my orders, I will kill you. Got that?”

“I'd love to see you try.”

“Boys, cut it out.”

It's Jagr. “I didn't ask for this situation either, but here we are. I plan to survive this shit, so please, Perez, follow Tyrus' lead. Tyrus, don't push his buttons. When we're done here, I couldn't give a rat's ass if you two go blow yourselves up with your inflated