The Nullands are an endless stretch of tech-dead wilderness, teeming with exotic creatures and cut off from the rest of the planet by the glowing barrier of the Divide.Tarn is part of the Death Squad, a criminal given a second chance by agreeing to risk his life over and over again in the Nullands. His latest mission is the kind he usually babysit an inexperienced lab tech while they hunt down the dangerous creature that escaped a research lab.
Calvin is the lab tech given the unenviable task of hunting down the creature that escaped his lab, after it killed his friend and five others. An assignment he mostly landed for refusing to sleep with his boss, he knows damn good and well he's being sent to die. What he doesn't expect is Tarn, or how far he's willing to go to survive.
Calvin knew he was going to die, they were sending him over the Divide and into the Nullands. He was not going to bother with groveling and calling her by her official title. If somehow he ever did survive, he was going to come back and -- he didn't even know what he wanted to do to the lot of them.
He'd fantasized about blowing up the whole camp, especially when he was on his knees mopping up urine spills.
"What do we have?" he asked Baron.
"You mean, what did we have," Baron said dryly. "We did lose five guards and some poor sod. We're still counting the body parts to make sure but the DNA from some of the remains have returned some the expected matches." She looked at her watch impatiently. She was either waiting for someone or just didn't want to be in Calvin's presence for long.
"Ah," said Calvin quietly. "Are you sure Oliver --"
"We have his blood." Baron gestured vaguely in the direction of a wall. "And we have his arm ... his entire right arm separated from below the shoulder ... and once we do all the regular DNA crosscheck, we might find which body parts belong to him and which belonged to the guards." She looked extremely pleased with the idea of having body parts to test. "His head is missing, maybe it ate it. But we do have the heads of the guards."
Calvin decided not to think too deeply about that in case he lost his breakfast. Instead, he concentrated on what he knew of the guards, though he didn't know any of them personally.
The entire base was divided into three divisions, the most important group being the scientists, which included the technicians, the botanists, the zoologists and ... all sorts of –ists and people like Calvin who were trained in mechanical space engineering, not that it had done him any good.
Then there were the camp guards, also called Home Guards, people who were assigned to look after the non-fighting camp members. Even though most of the science staff carried weapons, Calvin himself carried a gun, he knew he wasn't trained the way the guards were. They were trained soldiers who could handle themselves in a fight, who guarded the camp and the surroundings. Almost all military personnel had enhancements, additional hardware surgically inserted into their bodies to make them faster, stronger and aim better. This meant they weren't able to go to the Nullands, but they did what they could inside the camp perimeter fence.
And this thing which had escaped from the labs had killed five armed soldiers with ease.
"How many specimens were there?" the question was Calvin's but the voice that asked wasn't.
Calvin spun around and froze as the newcomer strolled along the corridor, looking at the blood splatter closely. The dark brown uniform, knee high black boots and the modified cross shoulder strap gave away which division he belonged to. Calvin gulped down the feeling of irrational fear that came with the sight. He knew the hardened criminals of Death Squad were technically on their side but still, there were stories about them he'd rather have not known.
He'd never seen a Death Squad member up close since he'd never gone on a Nullands mission. Calvin felt his heart beat a little faster as he realized something; apparently this person was here to see the situation firsthand because he was -- probably whom Calvin was paired up with. For the first time Calvin realized he needed to be accompanied by a Field Fighter if he were to stray outside the perimeter. He'd need an escort.
The newcomer looked rather ordinary; he had black hair, cut close to his head, black eyes, and sun burnt skin of someone who'd spent a lot of time outdoors. All this was coupled with the boyish face and a slim, well-muscled body of someone used to physical labor. Calvin momentarily hoped that his person was perhaps someone as low ranking as Calvin was in the camp. He did look rather young.
The newcomer looked to Dr. Baron, who in turn looked about as uncomfortable as Calvin felt.
"O ... one," Dr. Baron stammered quickly and Calvin looked away to hide a smile. No matter what the circumstances, it was fun to see his senior fumbling like a newly landed recruit.
"Really dangerous then," the newcomer said walking up to Calvin. "So, you must be Calvin Farnelle?"
"M ... me?" It was Calvin's turn to stammer.
"Is that a question?" he moved with the easy grace of a trained fighter until he reached Calvin. and the sneer in his voice was obvious as was the disdain in his face.
"I mean, why do you need me?" Calvin said a little too hastily, his tongue tripping over the words in his hurry.
"Are you the person to accompany Calvin, Field Commander Tarn?" Dr. Baron asked with something close to respect in her voice, and Calvin did a double take.
