Boarding Party

Consciousness returned like a shard of glass twisting in my skull.

I was on my knees. The metal decking of the bridge bit into my shins. My hands were zip-tied behind my back, the plastic cutting off my circulation.

I blinked, clearing the static from my vision.

The bridge of our submarine was a slaughterhouse. Vesper’s crew were on the floor, disarmed, bleeding, held at gunpoint by Lucius’s cyborgs. Vesper herself was slumped against the navigation console, clutching a shoulder that was dark with blood.

"Wakey, wakey," a metallic voice rasped.

I looked up.

Lucius sat in his mechanized wheelchair, dominating the center of the room. His new legs—chrome skeletons encasing withered flesh—gleamed under the emergency lights. He wasn't looking at me.

He was looking at Elena.

My sister stood in the grip of one of the massive soldiers. She wasn't fighting anymore. She was staring at Lucius with a mixture of horror and dawning recognition.

"Let her go," I croaked. My throat tasted like copper.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Lucius said, turning his masked face toward me. "She is the only thing that matters. The rest of you... you are debris."

"You have the network," I said, struggling against my bonds. "You have the power. What more do you want?"

"The network is a tool," Lucius said dismissively. "It controls the money. It controls the governments. But it doesn't control *time*."

He rolled closer to Elena. He reached out a metal finger and traced the line of her jaw. She flinched, turning her face away.

"You didn't understand the serum, Aria," he said softly. "You thought it was about making soldiers. About making monsters."

"I saw what it did to her," I spat.

"Side effects," Lucius waved a hand. "The aggression, the strength... those were just byproducts of the rewriting process. The serum wasn't designed to make her strong. It was designed to make her... specific."

"Specific to what?"

"To the Vault," he said.

He pulled a small device from his pocket. A holographic projector. He flicked it on.

An image floated in the air between us. It looked like a temple, but built of metal and ice. Ancient. Alien.

"The Antarctic site," Lucius said. "The Founders discovered it in the forties. They couldn't open it. They spent fifty years trying to crack the lock. My sister... Seraphina... she thought she could code her way in."

He laughed, a harsh, grating sound.

"But the lock isn't digital. It's biological. It requires a specific genetic sequence to disengage the seal. A sequence that didn't exist in nature."

I stared at him, the cold realization seeping into my bones.

"You didn't just modify her," I whispered. "You encoded her."

"I turned her DNA into a key," Lucius said proudly. "A living, breathing skeleton key. Once she is fully integrated with the site... the doors will open. And true power—the power of the Founders—will be mine."

"She's a person," Dante said from the floor. He was alive, but barely. His face was a mask of bruises. "Not a key."

"She is my daughter," Lucius snapped. "And she will fulfill her purpose."

He signaled to the cyborg holding Elena.

"Bring her to the Leviathan."

"No!" Elena screamed, thrashing against the guard's grip.

"If you fight," Lucius said calmly, "I will sink this ship."

He gestured to the viewscreen. Outside, the massive black shape of his submarine loomed, its torpedo tubes open and waiting.

"My vessel is locked onto your heat signature," he said. "One command, and this tin can becomes a coffin. For your sister. For your lover. For all these brave, foolish people."

Elena went still.

She looked at me. Then at Dante. Then at Vesper, bleeding out against the console.

"Elena, don't," I said. "We can fight."

"No," she whispered. "We can't."

She looked at Lucius.

"If I come with you," she said, her voice shaking but clear. "If I do what you want... you let them go."

"A fair trade," Lucius said. "One life for... how many is it? Twelve?"

"I swear it," she said. "Let them live. And I'm yours."

"Elena!" I screamed, lunging forward.

The guard nearest me slammed the butt of his rifle into my stomach. I collapsed, retching.

"Don't hurt her," Elena commanded, her voice suddenly hard. The blackness flickered in her eyes for a second—the monster peeking through.

Lucius chuckled. "See? It's in there. The potential."

He spun his chair around.

"Deal," he said. "Bring her."

The guards dragged Elena toward the airlock. She didn't look back. She kept her eyes fixed on Lucius, her chin high.

I watched them go, helplessness crushing me like the ocean pressure.

The airlock cycled shut.

Lucius’s voice crackled over the ship’s intercom one last time.

"A word of advice, Aria. Don't follow me. The cold is unforgiving to flesh and blood."

Then, a heavy metallic *clank* vibrated through the floor. The docking clamps released.

On the sonar screen, the massive blip began to move away.

But as the Leviathan pulled back, a new sound filled the bridge.

A rhythmic, beeping noise.

Coming from the hull.

Vesper pulled herself up, her eyes widening.

"That bastard," she hissed.

"What?" I gasped, trying to breathe.

"He lied," Vesper said.

She pointed to the hull integrity readout.

A red light was flashing on the outer shell.

"He planted a limpet mine," she said. "He's not letting us go. He's scuttling the evidence."

The timer on the screen hit three seconds.

Two.

One.