The Autumn War Vol. 02: Remnants

CHAPTER 1: THAT SINKING FEELING

"New York, New York," Fletcher announced as he crested the hill ahead of them. Gustave lumbered up to his side, Xipa peering out at the vista beyond from atop his shoulder.

They had crossed the residential band, and before them were the city limits, towers of white carbcrete that rose high into the sky. The streets here were flooded, the decorative lakes and rivers overflowing their bounds, making it look like the entire block was slowly sinking into a murky ocean. The formerly pristine facades of the buildings had been stained by the rise and fall of the water level over the decades, clinging aquatic plants that had been temporarily exposed to the air by the tide making them look like they were covered in red fur. Some of the structures were listing, their foundations eroded by water damage, a few of them leaning against their neighbors like they had been pushed over by a giant hand. Few of the windows that she could see were still intact, plants that had taken root inside them breaking through in search of sunlight, entire trees sprouting from the lower floors in places. Their seeds must have been carried there on the wind.

"I think we can make it through," Bluejay said, peering through the scope of his rifle to get a closer look. "I don't think it's deeper than two or three feet, and it gets shallower."

"The city is supposed to be level," Xipa added. "This entire area must be slowly sinking. There are underground sewers and maintenance tunnels that have probably been flooded for all this time, which would have eroded the foundations. It's like the legs have been cut out from under it."

"Think it's safe?" Fletcher asked. "I don't really fancy falling into a sinkhole or having a building collapse on me."

"There's no way to be sure," she replied. "Besides, what choice do we have?"

"Alright, let's just get it over with," Fletcher sighed as he set off down the hill.

There was no choice but to wade into the water here, the Earth'nay sinking up to his chest, pushing through the plants that floated on its surface. They had red, disk-shaped leaves, their white flowers blooming in clusters. Xipa remembered a time when they had cultivated these flowers in the lakes purely for aesthetic purposes, and now those same plants were growing over the submerged roads.

Ruza fared a little better, the water only rising to his waist, while Xipa was glad to be riding Gustave. Bluejay buzzed off into the air, soaring over their heads, heading for the nearest vantage point. He perched atop an old street light that was draped with red vines, his rifle in hand as he surveyed the route ahead of them.

"If we find survivors here, what should we do about him?" Xipa asked as she nodded in the insect's direction.

"That's a big if," Fletcher replied, holding his rifle aloft as he waded through another patch of weeds. "Hopefully, he looks different enough from the native Bugs that they wouldn't just shoot him on sight. That's what I'd do in their position, though."

"At the time of the invasion, my people had no idea that there was other intelligent life in the Galaxy," Xipa continued. "Our scientists and philosophers concluded that it was a certainty, of course, but we had never encountered another spacefaring species before that terrible day. We come to their rescue with a team of five species, only one of which is familiar, and another that they know to be hostile. They would not know what to make of an Earth'nay, a Krell'nay, or a Borealan."

"I guess we'll just let you do the talking," Fletcher replied.

"You will have no choice, as they will not speak English," she chided.

"Hey, Bug boy," Fletcher said into his helmet radio. "The Ensi says any survivors might be a bit trigger-happy, so try to keep a low profile, alright? We don't want to lose our eye in the sky."

They carried on through the water, making their way deeper into the city. Up close, the damage to the buildings seemed even more severe. The ground floors had been flooded, shoals of tiny fish swimming in and out of the broken windows, colonies of mushrooms filling the damp interiors wherever there was a surface to take root on. They passed by a scooter charging station whose glass awning rose only a meter above the water, a pair of abandoned scooters still anchored to it. There was scarcely a surface that the local plant life hadn't strived to reclaim, the walls carpeted in weeds at the waterline, red vines draped over everything that they could reach.

"Looks like someone came through here with a giant can of red silly-string," Fletcher muttered, the reference lost on Xipa.

"Movement, to the left," Ruza growled. He shouldered his rifle, Fletcher doing the same, the Earth'nay stumbling in the deep water. Xipa heard a splash from inside one of the nearby buildings, raising her XMR, digging her claws into Gustave's poncho for purchase as he turned in the direction of the sound.

There was a disturbance in the water, a ripple spreading across its surface as something wound its way through it, vanishing beneath the surface with a flurry of its furry tail.

"What the fuck is that?" Fletcher exclaimed, glancing down at the water as though he expected the thing to go for his legs.

"Relax," Xipa said, lowering her weapon. "It's just a native animal. They usually live by the shores of rivers and prey on fish."

"Thing looked like the ugliest otter I've ever seen," he grumbled, keeping one eye on the water as they continued on their way. "Do they bite?"

"Not unless you make them feel threatened," Xipa replied, enjoying his discomfort.

"Fucking bullshit," he muttered to himself, flinching away as a water weed brushed his thigh.

There was a buzzing sound as Bluejay returned to sit on a window ledge just above them, rustling the leaves of a nearby shrub that had made the opening its home.

"Not seeing anything so far," he announced. "No Bug patrols, no natives, just a few birds nesting in the windows. Doesn't smell like anyone's been here in a long time."

"The signal is emanating from the city center," Xipa said, checking the display on her wrist. "There's some distance to walk yet, but it shouldn't take us more than a day to get there."

"Unless we encounter obstacles," Fletcher warned. "This place is falling apart."

"These cities all have a similar layout," Xipa explained. "If we encounter any blocked roads, I'll be able to lead us around them."

"I did spot a collapsed building up ahead that's blocking the street," Bluejay added, gesturing down the flooded road ahead of them. "There are alleys and side roads, though. Shouldn't be too hard to get through."

***

They continued down the street as far as they could go, the water gradually getting shallower until it was only deep enough to reach Fletcher's knees. The first obstacle that they encountered was a row of abandoned vehicles of the same variety that they had come across on the forest road, maybe thirty deep. It looked like those at the front had been destroyed by plasma fire, and those behind had crashed into them in their bid to escape the carnage. Their chassis were covered in moss and weeds now, the silt that had built up on the asphalt slowly burying them. The blockage had acted as a kind of dam, capturing a great deal of floating debris like fallen twigs and decaying plant matter.

This helped reinforce Xipa's earlier suspicion that this city had been attacked later than her own, and that some measure of evacuation had at least been attempted, despite its obvious lack of success. Just like before, there were no bodies in spite of the obvious battle damage. The insects had probably cleared out every last piece of usable biomatter after the initial attack had concluded.

Fletcher took point, climbing up onto the roof of one of the forward vehicles, his boots slipping on the corroded metal. Ruza followed after him, choosing his footing carefully, the old cars creaking under his weight. For once, Gustave's size was more of a hindrance than a benefit, the reptile sizing up the blockade of vehicles. Xipa hopped off his shoulder, leaping deftly from car to car, turning to watch as he began to clamber over them. He was heavy enough to crush some of the smaller vehicles, his thick hide and his bony scutes protecting him from any jagged metal.

It took them a few minutes to make their way down the line, eventually arriving at the road again, the water here a little shallower than on the other side. They waited for Gustave to stumble his way over, then Xipa returned to her perch, the team setting off again.

After a few more blocks, they came upon the collapsed building that Bluejay had seen from the air. The structure was listing to the left, leaning against the adjacent building on the other side of the street, fallen debris piled up beneath it. The road had collapsed near its foundations, opening up a cavernous sinkhole that exposed the utility tunnels and sewers below street level. The water cascaded over its jagged edges, pouring down to join the quick flow of an underground river below. From the broken windows of the building spilled red vines that made it look like it was bleeding, while clusters of mushrooms grew in its shadow, making the piles of rubble their home.

"God damn," Fletcher muttered, wading through the knee-high water. "That tower block has to be thirty storeys tall. It's been knocked over like a fucking domino."

"I fear for the integrity of the street," Xipa added. "We should watch our footing carefully until we reach a dry area. There are kilometers of tunnels below-ground that could be exposed."

"Like abandoned mine shafts," Fletcher added with a nod. "Gustave, stay at the back. If anyone's gonna fall into a sinkhole, it's probably you."

"We can go around it," Xipa said, pointing down a nearby alleyway. In this moist environment, colonies of mushrooms abounded wherever there was shadow. There was a veritable forest of tall, spire-like fungi that were growing in the shade, taking root in the mud and dead leaves that had built up there. Sagging vines and foliage crisscrossed between the two buildings to either side of it, creating a kind of jungle canopy above. There was a whole ecosystem thriving here in the absence of the city's builders.

They veered off the main street, the water giving way to wet mud as they trudged through the alley. Gustave merely shouldered through the tall mushrooms, sending clouds of spores swirling through the air. Strangely, his wide feet and his splayed toes made him more suited to walking in the mud than his far smaller companions, who were struggling in the knee-deep muck. It must be an evolutionary adaptation, spreading out his weight over a large area.

When they emerged on the far side, they were met by another street covered in about a meter of water, the asphalt long buried by the buildup of mud and silt. There was more of a current here, the water flowing noticeably faster, the fronds of the grass-like weeds that covered the bottom waving gently. More flowers drifted on its surface, silvery fish darting about beneath them. Right in the center of the road was a fallen street lamp, the metal covered in a fuzzy, red carpet of clinging algae of the kind one might find on rocks at the edge of a stream.

"This is surreal," Fletcher muttered, pausing to take in the view. "I've seen war, I've seen battle damage, but I've never seen anything that was just left to decay like this before. It's apocalyptic."

"It was an apocalypse," Xipa replied solemnly. "You can't imagine what it feels like - to have seen streets like this teeming with life, only for them to be deserted. I barely recognize it anymore."

As they made their way down the shallow river, they soon came across another obstacle. One of the elevated maglev lines that had once carried passengers throughout the city had collapsed, its supports eroded, the rail drooping down to block off the street. It was covered in the same slimy, red algae, partially submerged in the water.

"I don't fancy trying to climb over that with all the slippery shit that's growing on it," Fletcher muttered.

"This city is becoming a maze," Ruza grumbled, walking ahead of the group to inspect the blockage more closely. "There is no telling how many of these paths have been closed off. Should we not make better use of our scout, regardless of the danger?"

He leaned down, running his claws through the crimson gunk, the algae clinging to his fur in dangling strands.

"Maybe Bluejay can scout a little further ahead," Fletcher conceded. "I don't want him getting shot down by one of those Bug snipers or a pissed-off Valbaran hillbilly, though. I don't think they can ship us a new one out here. Do Jarilans have an extended warranty?" he joked, Bluejay scowling at him from his perch on a nearby street light.

"Come see this," Ruza added, leaning down to inspect the massive rail. Fletcher walked over to his side, the two examining the collapsed structure. "Do you think that we could duck under this low-"

The street beneath them collapsed, the two figures dropping out of sight, the river pouring into the jagged hole in the asphalt. Xipa's heart stopped in her chest, Bluejay rising into the air on his gossamer wings, flitting over to hover above the sinkhole. Gustave was already moving, but a sputtering voice warned him back.

"Don't come any closer, Gustave!" Fletcher warned over their helmet radios. She could hear rushing water making the mic crackle. "You're too heavy!"

Xipa wanted to leap off the Krell'nay's shoulder, to rush to their aid, but the water was already flowing in the direction of the hole. She was too small, too light. It would sweep her away, down into the dark, forgotten depths of the undercity. She frantically closed her visor, switching her view to the feed from Bluejay's helmet cam. He was looking directly down into the hole, an opening maybe three meters wide, its edges made up of cracked asphalt. The ground beneath must have been eroded by the water, leaving only a thin crust that had given way under their combined weight. Below was a sewer tunnel, now exposed to the air, the water that was rushing in from all sides creating a surging river that coursed away beneath the city.

Fletcher was hanging there, one of his prosthetic arms gripping the jagged end of a broken water pipe that was jutting from the wall of the hole, maybe a meter down. In his other hand, he held Ruza by one of the straps of his rucksack, the feline dangling there helplessly. The walls of the sinkhole were too steep for him to find any purchase. The Earth'nay was grimacing through his open visor as the water poured over him, taking ragged breaths, trying not to drown. He didn't have a hand free to close it. His face was red, his limbs straining against the Borealan's weight.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, spitting out a mouthful of murky water. "I can't hold him much longer! He's gonna tear my fucking arms right out of their sockets!"

"I can't lift them!" Bluejay added, glancing over at Xipa. "They're too heavy!"

The pipe that Fletcher was holding onto shifted, bending under their combined weight. If it didn't break, then it would be the water that was cascading over Fletcher's head that would tear him loose, sending both of them tumbling into the flooded tunnels.

Xipa tried to think, but she was paralyzed. There was no plan for this, and her people weren't good at thinking on their feet. She cursed herself, looking around for something that might help them. Gustave fared no better, frozen in place not by indecision but by Fletcher's order. He weighed as much as the rest of the team combined, and he would surely cause more of the road to collapse if he ventured closer.

"You must let me fall, Fletcher!" Ruza growled. "There is no need for us both to be lost!"

"I don't know how the Rask do things," the Earth'nay replied, gritting his teeth as his prosthetic limbs strained. They might be far stronger than their organic counterparts, but they were still anchored to fallible flesh. "But we don't leave people behind!"

It came back to Xipa like a lightning bolt, a memory of her time in the City Guard, as clear as day. One of the duties of the organization had been responding to disasters and accidents, including fires. They had used fire-retardant fluid that turned into an expanding foam when heated, starving the blaze of oxygen. It was deployed via a long, flexible hose that was connected to a storage tank below street level, housed in conspicuous booths painted purple - the color of distress. There should be one on each block. She searched for a moment, then found one a dozen meters to their rear, the top just peeking above the water. It was partially obscured by red algae, but there was no mistaking that woeful hue. It didn't matter if the foam had long been rendered inert - it was the hose that she needed.

"Gustave!" she yelled, tapping the left side of his scaly skull with her fist. "That purple thing over there!"

He didn't need convincing, powering through the water so fast that she had to grip the collar of his poncho to save from being thrown off. He didn't know what to do with the device when he got to it, Xipa leaping from his shoulders, plunging into the water. It was frigid, her suit doing little to insulate her from it. She felt the current tug at her, but Gustave curled his tail around her, creating a wall of scales to stop her from being washed away. She fumbled with the latches, trying to yank open the access panel, but it was rusted shut. Gustave realized what she was trying to do, hooking his claws into the groove and tearing it off its hinges. The coil of thick, insulated hosing spilled out, Xipa catching it in her arms.

"Bluejay!" she called, the insect swooping down to land on Gustave's shoulder. Without needing an explanation, he gripped the nozzle on the end of the hose in his hands, soaring off into the air with it in tow. As he skimmed across the surface of the water, Xipa watched the coils slowly unspool, silently praying that there would be enough.

With only a few meters to spare, Bluejay hovered as low as he dared, tossing the hose into the sinkhole. Xipa couldn't see what was happening, but something tugged on the other end.

"Pull them up, Gustave!" she shouted. The Krell'nay dug his wide feet into the silt, gripping the hose in both hands. His muscles bulging beneath his dark scales, he began to pull, placing one hand over the other as he heaved. He wasn't only fighting against the weight of his companions, but against the flow of the river, the hose pulled so taut that Xipa feared it might snap.

After a few tense moments, Ruza rose up above the water, the other end of the hose wrapped tightly around his wrist. Fletcher followed behind him, still clinging to the strap of his pack. Gustave kept pulling until they were clear of the sinkhole, the pair able to walk on their own now, still clutching their lifeline. The group moved out of the flowing water, taking refuge in another alley, where an island of mud offered some respite from the current.

Fletcher and Ruza flopped down into the muck, breathing hard, Gustave and Xipa watching as they caught their breath. Bluejay hovered overhead, not knowing what else to do.

"Argh, fuck!" Fletcher yelled to nobody in particular, rolling onto his back. Xipa didn't know enough about Earth'nay to tell if it was an expression of relief or of pain. "You weigh as much as a sack of fucking bricks, you mangy bastard."

"You...saved me," Ruza sputtered, coughing up a lungful of water.

"Let me fall," Fletcher replied in a mocking tone. He sat up, pulling off his helmet with shaking hands, more water pouring out of it. "Of course I did, you idiot. Save your noble sacrifices for when I don't need you to do a bloody job."