Compile:Quest

Chapter 27: Savager of Flesh

The Leider's Audience Chamber, Wildebeest Digger Colony,

African Continent

The heat was insane. Jinx squirmed, tugging inconspicuously at her fatigues. Sweat had soaked into her vest, her pants, her hair. She was sure if she took off her boots and tipped them over sweat would pour out.

"This is ridiculous," Pearce muttered. "We've been here forever."

Jinx lifted her vest away from her chest and blew between her breasts. The brief coolness was glorious, but heat returned in an instant.

Beside Pearce, Quinn rocked on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. He looked for all the world like he was on shore leave.

"Fuck this," Private Scott said.

Jinx twisted her head around, glaring at the soldier as he sank to his haunches.

"On your feet, Private!" Jinx snapped.

The man's eyebrow twitched, but he stayed where he was.

As she took a step toward him, Pearce caught her arm. "Sergeant Jinx gave you an order, Scott."

The man sighed, pushing himself up again. When she turned back, Pearce had an admonitory tilt to his head.

"What? I'm in command—" she began.

"We're in command." Pearce interrupted. His fingers flicked between them.

Jinx decided to suppress her anger. It was adding too much to the heat, anyway. She pressed her thumb and index finger to her eyelids, massaging her eyes. They stung from lack of sleep and the incense permeating the air around them.

Every wall in the massive audience chamber held four incense burners, coiling with thick, pungent smoke. They'd been herded inside the moment they'd arrived at the colony. After a few tense moments at the gate, of course. Luckily a man had come to claim them before anyone was shot. It must have been an hour since they'd been dumped in this room.

"I need sleep," she said. Her jaw cracked open in a yawn.

Pearce glanced at her. "I saw you weren't in your bunk last night."

"Out on rounds," she replied, hopefully not too quickly.

"You weren't supposed to be on duty last night."

"General's orders."

"I still can't believe he let you volunteer," Pearce said, for about the fiftieth time since she'd walked into the briefing room earlier that day.

"And like I've told you, again and again, I wouldn't let you do this alone." She reconsidered adding 'battle buddy' at Pearce's huff.

"Maybe they're just going to let all the air run out and we'll smother to death."

They turned to Quinn. He stared back at them nonplussed and proceeded to roll himself a cigarette, not in the least impaired by having to do it standing up.

"Why would the—" what was his title? "—Leider do that? He's the one that wants an alliance."

"Peace treaty," Pearce corrected.

"Same thing."

Pearce turned to her, his eyebrows lifting. "They let you pass basic training?"

"Shut up," she snapped.

"Makes sense," Quinn said.

He licked the cigarette and stuck it between his lips. One eye pressed closed against the smoke as he lit it.

He took a long drag before shrugging. "We've got superior numbers."

"We shouldn't be discussing this here," Pearce said.

Quinn nodded. "True."

"Well, I can't stand here any longer. I'm leaving," Jinx said, spinning on her heel.

As if her words had triggered some silent alarm, the doors behind them swung open. A tall, skinny man dressed in mousy clothing scurried through. As soon as he caught sight of them he stopped and ducked his head. Jinx stared at him, her lips parting in astonishment.

"Who the hell—" she began.

The man darted up to her, lifting his hands to silence them. She took a hurried step back, her head dashing to the side to glance at Pearce.

"No, no, no, no!" the man whispered. He pressed a finger to his lips. "Quiet. No sound in audience chamber."

"What—" Pearce tried speaking, but the man's agitation heightened.

His fingers tapped a frenzied staccato against his lips.

"No sound, no sound. Kneel. The Leider comes."

Every single hair on Jinx's body rose. She stepped back.

"You want us to do what?" Pearce demanded.

The man cringed and scuttled past them, disappearing into a door on the far side of the room. A hush descended. Jinx faced the only other object in the room.

A golden throne.

"Uh... anyone else think it's a good idea to get out of here?" Jinx murmured.

"... the fuck?" Quinn mumbled.

His cigarette dangled, forgotten, from his lips. Pearce cleared his throat. Then he visibly steeled himself, pushing his shoulders back. He wasn't a small man — his back muscles strained against his tank top. Jinx looked at his bare arms in envy. If only she could strip down to her vest, too. But that never ended well. She always wound up breaking things — noses, arms, legs. A rib, more than once.

"I say we get the hell—" Pearce started.

A door was thrown back with excessive drama. There was no light on the other side, just a dark rectangle. The strange man bounded out, hands held above his head.

"I think he's mental," Quinn said, loud enough that the man had to have heard.

He ignored them, flourishing his hands and sweeping them down. Doubled over, he scooted out of the way.

"Hail Leider Leo! Destroyer of the Corrupt, Savager of Flesh, Reaper of Corn!"

Jinx gaped. Silence stretched out, sifting through the room and enveloping them as tangibly as the incense.

A man walked through the door.

The Rooivalk soldiers behind Jinx drew in sharp breaths. Jinx tensed — both in surprise and in response to the jolt of adrenalin her brain had thought it wise to inject her with.

The Leider of Wildebeest loomed.

He stood head and shoulders taller than her and was broader than Hodges, who was damn broad. Even across the room with more than twelve meters of glistening tiles separating them, Jinx felt like she was too close. It was as if he could take one step, snatch her off her feet, and crush her bones in his hand.

"... the fuck?" Quinn murmured.

"Fuck me," Jinx said, her voice small and wobbly.

"Wow," Pearce added, but he sounded more terrified than awed.

. . .