WISPS OF ASH

1563 4D

The guards heard the end of the wail, felt the shock in their spines, and grabbed weapons. Whatever had happened, they had to protect the aliens; the bug soldiers had gone inside too.

The squad leader at the main doors listened. Silence. He tapped gently on the door’s huge ornamental handle, and waited. No response. He pulled gently, the great door eased back, and he peered inside.

It was pitch dark. He swung the door wide; a swath of light fell across several rows of seats near him.

Pale, naked andro bodies lay everywhere, their torsos ripped open, organs hanging out, blood dripping to the floor. The young, once-beautiful faces were fixed in nightmarishly grotesque smiles and grins. He choked on the charnel smell; as he drew a gasping breath, the taste of ashes fouled his mouth. He spat, then vomited, those behind him were already throwing up. What a time to be without a helm.

“Come on in, if you can, we’ve got to report,” he said. This was going to be awful. Approaching the nearest body, he batted at some wisps of ash still floating in the air near the entrance.

“They’re gone,” a voice whispered. He looked down. The smooth and lovely face of a young andro woman stared up at him, her lips working. The rent in her abdomen gaped, bloody and slimed with phosphorescence.

“You’re alive!” He wheeled, calling, “You two, here! Get her out to the medshop!”

“No,” she murmured, as two guards gathered her up. “Let me go now. My friends are dead.”

He detailed the rest of his squad to bring in the other guards, called the meddies for any other survivors, and raced after the two with the girl.

She died at the liftway entrance.