Fall of Icarus

other Wyndgaart who were willing participants in the merger, Keryn surmised, the eradication of their previous personality was probably the case. But Keryn still existed. No matter how suppressed, she could now bide her time until the Voice gave her an opening.

Dodging easily out of the way of even the computer controlled plasma rockets, the Cair Ilmun descended further toward the Destroyer. The mathematical projections of rates of fire remained etched across her vision, but deep in the recesses of her mind, another memory began to surface. Overlaid on the massive Terran warship, a secondary image coalesced. In all respects, the ghost image looked very much like the Destroyer it mimicked, though subtle differences could be found. The nose of the ship was less defined, leaving the appearance of an unfinished vessel. Many of the gun ports that existed on the true Destroyer were missing in the overlapping picture. Even the length of the ship was smaller in the reflective image. Realization of what she was seeing came unbidden to Keryn’s mind, as though images and pictures that she had never seen were now readily accessed. It wasn’t just a ghost image Keryn saw. It was a memory.

Somewhere in the confines of the Voice, there existed a Wyndgaart who had fought in the Great War, the first time the Alliance and the Terrans had faced one another in combat. The Terrans had made some impressive improvements to the Destroyers since that time, but the adage remained the same: the more things change, the more they stay the same. Delving into that memory, Keryn replayed the other’s experiences of approaching a Destroyer nearly a hundred and fifty years before. That long lost Wyndgaart had boarded the Destroyer and found her way through the ship, fighting toward the weapons bay that was housed in the front of the Terran vessel. In her memory, Keryn saw the piles of metal slugs being lifted by the heavy mechanical forklifts. To each side, she also saw rows upon rows of the powerful plasma rockets queued in preparation for launch. And as the ghost image began to evaporate, dispersed like a fine vapor as the modern day Destroyer launched another volley of plasma rockets, Keryn realized why that memory had been pulled to the forefront by the Voice. Sinking deeper within her own mind, Keryn smiled at the plan that was formulating.

The seconds ticked by in her mind like a pounding metronome as the Cair Ilmun wove through the suppressive fire.

Twenty.

They slid past the next series of metal slugs.

Thirty-five.

They had less time to maneuver out of the way of the slugs the closer they got to the Destroyer.

Fifty.

Were it not for the lightning quick reflexes of the Voice, Keryn was sure they would have been destroyed long ago. However, she knew there would only be one more volley.

Sixty-five.

The Destroyer consumed most of the view from the cockpit as the Cair Ilmun flew straight for the front of the warship. The rail gun launches were dangerously close, though the Voice kept the ship skimming past their attacks. Keryn felt the excitement and bliss building inside of her again and it sickened her. Still, she knew the math as well as the Voice. It would be fifteen seconds until the next rail gun launch, but this would all be over in less than six.

Keryn felt the Cair Ilmun jerk as it fired one of the few plasma rockets in its reserve. The shot was perfect, as she knew it would be. When it came to combat, everything the Voice did was perfect. The small plasma rocket sailed toward the front of the Destroyer as the Cair Ilmun banked and began accelerating away. Behind her, the missile sped forward, taking nearly five seconds to cover the remaining distance between the two ships. Just as the sixth second ticked by, seventy-one seconds since the last missile launch from the Destroyer, the Cair Ilmun’s perfectly fired rocket entered the rightmost missile port on the Terran warship, just as the Terrans fired their own rocket volley. The two missiles struck one another inside the tube connecting open space to the weapons bay. The resulting explosion ripped open the side of the Destroyer as superheated plasma roared back down the missile port, filling the weapons bay with a deadly inferno. Consuming the rows of awaiting plasma rockets, the Cair Ilmun’s shot set off a chain reaction of explosions. One concussive blast after another ripped the front of the Destroyer apart, peeling back the metal plating on the nose of the ship, splitting the hull and exposing over half the ship to the vacuum of space.

The Voice quite vocally cheered their success as the Cair Ilmun shook from the shockwave as the Terran Destroyer was annihilated, filling the cockpit with the laughter Keryn had already come to despise. Her hands were now free from the controls as the Voice reclined in the pilot’s chair, reveling in her victory. Unassuming, the Voice didn’t notice the faint smile that was cast upon Keryn’s lips. Moments too late, she felt the adrenaline pumping through her body and her heart rate increasing.

Pulled from underneath Keryn’s head, her hands closed around her throat. Choking in surprise, the Voice lost control of her mouth as Keryn’s words poured through it. “I want my body back, you bitch!”

Growling, the Voice quickly reasserted itself, though it still struggled to pull free the suffocating hands. “You made your choice. It’s not your body any longer.”

As the hands constricted around Keryn’s throat, the cockpit started to grow dark. Her vision narrowed until it was little more than a tunnel as the darkness closed in around her. Slowly, the darkness slipped further inward until her vision was little more than a pinprick before darkness consumed it all.

The blackness melted quickly away, replaced with a desolate brown world of cracked clay ground and an undistinguishable horizon. Keryn was standing before a mirror, the reflection of which sneered angrily at her.

“What do you think you are doing?” the Voice yelled from the mirror. “You could have killed us! Right now we’re floating unconscious in the middle of a warzone! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I can’t live like this,” Keryn said calmly, in a tone that seemed to surprise the Voice. “I thought merging was the right decision at the time, but I’ve quickly learned that it was a mistake. You don’t deserve my body.”

The reflection smiled maliciously. “That is a great speech, Keryn. I respect the sentiment. But I’m a much bigger part of you than ever before. Exactly how do you intend to get rid of me?”

“I want you out of my body,” Keryn whispered, her voice carrying over the empty terrain.

“Excuse me?” the Voice asked, arching an eyebrow.

Keryn looked up, locking her gaze with that of her reflection. More sternly, she repeated herself. “I want you out of my body.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” the Voice said, though her tone had lost some of its luster. “I’m inside of you now. You can’t just…”

“I want you out of my body,” Keryn interrupted. She could feel the strength welling inside of her.

“Stop saying that,” the Voice demanded.

“I want you out of my body.”

“Shut up!” the Voice yelled. It looked nervously left and right. Reaching out, it tested the confines of the mirror, but found it to be a prison.

Keryn took a step forward. The Voice fell silent, watching her every move. For seemingly an eternity, the pair just stared at one another until finally Keryn broke the silence.

“I want you out of my body.”

Though the words were whispered softly, the effect was dramatic. Keryn’s body was wracked with pain as her arms flew out wide. Internally, it felt as though she were being ripped in half. She struggled against the pain, biting down on her bottom lip until she felt blood spill into her mouth and a coppery taste coated the back of her throat. Before her, the mirror cracked down the middle. Spider webs extended from the image of the Voice, who howled in anguish. Focusing her attention inward, Keryn clutched the two halves of herself, the parts that had begun to separate and tear apart, torn in opposite directions. The mirror before her shattered, spraying shards of glass into the air. As though in response to the breaking of the mirror, Keryn’s body swelled as hands and faces pressed against her skin from inside her body. Tilting her head back, Keryn screamed in pain as she felt the hands break free from her body, exploding outward. From her, a hundred Wyndgaart were flung from her body in all directions, filling the air with limp forms that flew vast distances away.

Keryn’s eyes flew open and she let out a blood-curdling scream that filled the cramped cockpit. Back in reality, she groaned from the ache in her chest and the pain throbbing in her lower lip. Reaching up, her fingers came away bloody where she had bitten nearly clean through the flesh. Pausing momentarily, she waited for the