The Book of Eadie, Volume One of the Seventeen Trilogy

by Mark D. Diehl

  The Prophet shrugged and took another drink. “We used rat-specific fungi and rat-mitochondria-specific secretions, of course,” he said. “The human strain can only live in human tissue. The rats got stronger and smarter as they got older. But with humans it was another story. The human test subjects died almost instantly.”

  The Prophet sighed, or laughed, or moaned. He took a long drink with his eyes closed. “In the rats, we took a sample of mitochondria from the animal and used its genetic material in coding the fungus, and the fungus provided genetically identical pieces. Every time we tried the same thing with humans, the mitochondria assembled from the parts were slightly off, and were rejected as foreign. A whopping immune response made entire bodies foam like soap suds and disappear, as soon as the fungus took hold. I reported to Chief Executive Zytem that the strain had the potential to wipe out the human race and begged that it be destroyed.” He held up the the brick, pointing to the black substance within, which Dok reasoned was a collection of fungal spores. “Obviously, that request was ignored.”

  Zytem cleared his throat. “So you decided to sabotage our company. Even though you were the most highly rewarded worker in our history!”

  “No, sir,” the Prophet said. “You were the most rewarded worker. And any sabotage on my part was merely an attempt to protect our species from extinction.”

  The room was silent.

  “Why didn’t you just destroy it yourself?” Dok asked.

  The Prophet touched the side of his own head with two fingertips. “Reconditioned,” he said. “I had a direct order to turn over all products of my research for the president’s review, and successfully reconditioned workers can never disobey a direct order from a superior. Whenever I thought of destroying the spores, my head filled with such terror that I ended up curled into a ball on the floor.”

  He held up the bioplexi brick, gesturing with it toward the hologram. “Who was I to question the great Walt Zytem’s judgment? But now I realize it was supposed to be this way.”

  The Prophet’s eyes flicked to the hologram and then to Eadie.

  “You see, General, when one’s job is to manipulate nature—for that’s what bioengineering is, the manipulation of nature—one must understand nature. As one of the world’s pre-eminent biochemists, I understand nature very well. I know its patterns, its habits.” The Prophet’s gaze turned to Zytem’s hologram as if he was daring Zytem to contradict him, but Zytem stayed silent.

  “I realize now what this strain means,” the Prophet said. “Zytem was supposed to keep it like this. It became clear during my time in the tunnels, where all life was human. Nature is fighting back, because humanity’s relentless conquest of all things natural threatens life itself. By paring down natural diversity toward a single life form—ourselves—we’re forcing nature to keep all its eggs in our basket. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  He smiled at Zytem’s hologram, which shivered visibly. “Perhaps it is time to let nature win, sir?” the Prophet said. “Let the Lord do as the Lord will?”

  “Prophet?” Eadie said. “I don’t like this. Why are you talking this way?”

  Zytem’s hologram turned to Eadie. His eyes were rimmed red. He was breathing through his open mouth. “You can see he’s crazy, miss,” he said. “Please. You and your friend there might be able to stop him, and maybe save us all.”

  Dok couldn’t take his eyes off the plastic brick in the Prophet’s hand. The black spores inside seemed to lunge at the sides of the glass tube. “Eadie,” he said. “Fungal spores are microscopic and super tough. Even boiling doesn’t kill them. If the spores get out of that container, they’ll instantly infect everyone in this building. They can be carried hundreds of miles by a tiny gust of wind, and they never break down or die the way bacteria and viruses do. They can sit on a shelf for thousands of years and be just as virulent as they are right now.”

  Eadie made a noise that seemed to be a stifled sob. Dok moved to put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it away, glaring at the Prophet.

  “Just now you told me I solved the Subjects’ problem by killing them all off,” Eadie said, her voice trembling and tear-choked. “But before, when I asked you about leading them—” She broke off, sniffling. “When I asked you what change I was destined to bring about, what I was supposed to lead them to do, you said not to worry. You told me my job ‘begins when the teaching is done.’ You laughed.”

  The hologram light reflected off her tears as they fell to the front of her tattered black suit. “I see how the pieces fit together now. It was your plan to come to the CBD all the time.” She exhaled raggedly.

  The Prophet nodded. “Coming here was your plan also. But it was clear to me that you’d use your power to strike at the system that has always humiliated you and made you feel helpless.”

  “My job begins when the teaching is done.” She nodded to herself. “I wipe the slate.”

  25

  Vacuum

  The pain stopped.

  Brian stood up, looking all around. He was once again surrounded by the mist. He stretched his back, closing his eyes tight and then reopening them. There was something in his hand. He turned his palm over, revealing a coin. A woman’s golden face stared back. Coiner’s fake bitch.

  The mist dissipated, and Brian found himself in a traditional Japanese room, with paper walls and tatami mats on the floor. Seated on the floor before a long, low table was the samurai. His severe expression and the two perfect swords on the little stand next to him left no doubt as to his identity.

  The samurai motioned for him to sit. Brian sat. The samurai nodded at the table and Brian noticed a steaming cup of tea. He picked it up and drank. The samurai drank too, but said nothing.

  “What is this place?”

  “A stop along the way. To say goodbye. My mission is over.”

  “Is this inside my head, too?”

  “No. You will find your own way to the light.”

  The samurai gestured to a sliding paper panel. Brian rose. He slid the door open and stepped through, back into the mist. He turned to close the panel behind him, but the door, the room, and the samurai were gone.

  The mist began to clear as a warm, golden light appeared far ahead.

  Walt Zytem’s office

  Zytem terminated the connection. The hologram disappeared, leaving the room dark.

  The Prophet laughed. “Perfect!” he said. Eadie shivered.

  “Prophet,” Eadie said. “Give me the container.”

  “No.”

  “I outrank you. Give it to me, now.”

  He scoffed. “You outrank me in a hierarchy I created. I was reconditioned only to obey Amelix Integrations superiors. I don’t work here anymore, so there are no such people.”

  “How did you know I’d be the one to take you here? How did you know to call me ‘general’ and that I would end up leading the Subjects?”

  “Oh, that,” the Prophet said. His voice sounded satisfied, almost cheerful. “Every woman has at least some ability to make a man do stupid things, but in you, I saw a rare talent for inciting foolish behavior in many of them all at once. Since the human male is the most destructive force in our world, I realized you had great potential.”

  “I don’t understand,” Eadie said.

  “You still don’t see? Think of poor little Lawrence Williams the Seventh. Gave up his whole life to save you, without a second thought. Another example: Those bullies who started to beat me up at the diner,” the Prophet said. “They sat next to me the day before that, when I first met you. Their whole conversation was about how sexy they thought you were. When they came back the next day, each one stared at you as he came in. Why do you think they picked on those younger students and then came after me? It was all to make an impression on you, to show you how tough and how superior they were. And believe me, those kids weren’t the only ones paying you attention. You were the main attraction in that place.

  “On top of all that, I saw the anger i
n you—such deep-seated pain and resentment. All this gave you power you didn’t yet know you had. I simply needed to steer you in the right direction.”

  He pulled out her notebook. “As it turned out, your little friend here did the hard part for me. The CBD was your first choice of target!” He tried to hand the book to her but she kept her hands at her sides. Dok took it instead, absently sliding it into a pocket in his jacket.

  The Prophet turned to face the window, taking another drink. Outside, the CBD was dark and silent.

  Eadie leaped at him, snatching the plexi brick of spores from his hand. The Prophet lunged for the brick. Eadie punched him in the face and flung him to the floor. He sprung up, grabbing at the brick again with both hands but she held it out of his reach and struck him hard in the chin with her knee. He collapsed onto the carpet, unconscious.

  Eadie ran to the staircase. “Rosa! Old Fart!” she called down. “I need you up here now!”

  “Eadie?” Dok said, coming up behind her. “What are you doing?”

  “Didn’t you get it, Dok? Didn’t you hear his solution to the Subjects’ problem? He’s going to let nature take its course and wipe us all out. Old Fart! Rosa! Where are you?” Eadie leaned impatiently over the stair rail toward the clomping footsteps and heavy breathing that had to be Old Fart climbing up.

  It would be too conspicuous if she went herself; too many would follow. But Old Fart and Rosa might be taken for CBD refugees. It was the best chance they had.

  Looking through what used to be the CBD fence

  “This plaaace is gonna get a lot hotter reeeal fast, Patrol Leeader,” Lux said. “More Feds will come. Saamurai’s Front is lost.”

  Coiner nodded. “You’re a wise maaan, Lux. I’ll have to aanswer to Top Dog for chasing Samurai all the way heere, but I think he’ll agree that this colleeection of weapons is worth what we’ve lost … especially these new ones. Besides, I’m out of coooins. Let’s head home.”

  Zytem’s office

  The Prophet moaned and crawled up to sit on the windowsill.

  “I sent the spores away,” Eadie said. “Old Fart and Rosa are taking that brick to the news trucks. They’re probably already to the vans outside the CBD.”

  The Prophet was silhouetted against the feeble rain-filtered moonlight coming in through the window. The room might have seemed pitch black to anyone unaccustomed to living underground, though the glowing shapes on their foreheads were plainly visible. He covered his face with his hands.

  He laughed sadly to himself. “I’ve been outsmarted,” he said.

  Eadie’s face flushed hot. “You’re damned right you’ve been outsmarted. Did you think I’d let you wreck the whole world?”

  He rolled his head from side to side against the window. “Not by you, you stupid waitress cunt,” the Prophet said. “By nature. By what your samurai friend called the Life Force. By God. You’re just a cog in the divine mechanism, though I failed to give your part sufficient consideration. I should’ve seen this coming.”

  Eadie stared at his silhouette. “God outsmarted you by getting the spores out of your hands before you killed everyone?”

  “God outsmarted me by getting them out of this building. I wanted to see the spores destroyed. As long as they exist, our species is teetering on the edge of extinction, and our extinction is what God wants.”

  “Know what?” Dok said, pointing at the Prophet. “This guy’s full of shit. No single disease in history ever wiped out a hundred percent of any population, let alone the whole world.”

  The Prophet’s voice was flat. “That’s because every disease in history evolved within a population, so a natural resistance developed as it was spreading. This fungus was designed to be symbiotic with human tissue. Factor in modern transportation systems and the degree to which people are interconnected these days, and there’s not a single barrier that will even slow it down.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Eadie said. “The spores are going to the news stations.”

  The Prophet laughed again. “Did you forget about Walt Zytem, the president of this corporation? He happens to be one of the most powerful people in the world. What do you suppose he will do now? If he hasn’t already, that is.”

  Eadie’s heart sank. She hadn’t considered how Zytem might act. She tried to think quickly. “Call the Feds, I’d guess.”

  “That’s right. Feds. High up Feds. And when he tells them what we terrorists have found here, what do you suppose those Feds will do?”

  “Try to … I don’t know. Try to stop us from releasing the spores, probably.”

  “Right again,” said the Prophet. “Snipers will take out anyone trying to leave the area, because anybody might be carrying the vial—they’ll aim for heads to minimize the risk of breaking it. But they won’t come too close. There’s a risk in bringing the fight inside the CBD. We might release the spores in retaliation, or the container could be damaged by a stray shot. So the Feds will incinerate this building, probably with a tactical nuclear weapon. It’s the only way to be sure our species is safe from this threat. It’s what I was counting on.” The Prophet chuckled quietly. “Only now, the spores will no longer be here.”

  “Neither will we,” she said. “Dok, let’s get out of here while we still have a chance.” She headed for the door.

  The Prophet laughed sadly again. “Do whatever you want,” he said. “You’ll never make it. I’m staying here.” He reached over to the desk and grabbed another liquor bottle. Leaning against the wall, he took a long drink.

  Eadie hurried down the long staircase with Dok close behind her. In spite of the transparent ceiling, it was difficult to see more than a few steps ahead; there was no telling what was happening elsewhere in the dark lobby. Shots sounded somewhere close by—Unnamed, she could tell from the guns. Fiends below fired back. Eadie’s midsection felt hot. Her legs gave way and she collapsed on the stairs.

  Inside the office building

  “Yeeah, like thaat,” Spiral said, caressing the gun he was teaching one of the tunnel soldiers to use. “We knoow the sniper’s in that building but not on the roof. The next shot wee seee flare up over there, wee’re both gonna dump a lotta fire on it, okaaay? I’ll shaare this kiill with you—like I shared the Juice. Feelin’ goood, right now, huh?”

  The tunnel soldier’s voice was a low hiss. “Yeeees.” He sighted down the rifle. “Goood. You have more Juice? Mooore?”

  “Don’t need more.” Spiral sighted his own gun, waiting. “It’s the same, a little or too much. It all works the same—won’t get more intense. Only killing does that.”

  A tiny white light flashed from the building, one floor below the roof. Spiral and the other soldier fired simultaneously, shattering glass and shredding the contents of the office there.

  “Oh!” the other soldier said. “Oh!” He set the gun down.

  “Yeeah!” Spiral said. “We got ’im! Feel that? The rapture? Means we got ’im!”

  Waves of pleasure flooded into Spiral’s body from all directions. “We got ’im!” he said again, wringing out more sensation with every repetition. “We got ’im we got ’im we got ’im!”

  “Gottim,” the other soldier hissed.

  Spiral and the other soldier stood, turning toward the stairs. “Whosat?” Spiral asked, watching the two figures working their way slowly down the criss-crossing staircase. One was helping the other, who was injured and seemed barely able to stand.

  “Everyone follow me!” a young female voice called. “This is General Eadie. We have to leave, as fast as we can. Follow me out right now!”

  “Our general,” the other soldier said breathily. “Wee fooollow.”

  Spiral took a spontaneous step toward her. “Saaamurai said to follow her, huh? I seee whyy.”

  “Yeess. Follow,” the other said. Together they joined the crowd that was quickly assembling around her, making their way down the stairs.

  Too far from the CBD to be part of the action

  Daiss tug
ged at the wraps around both his arms. “I’ve got to—”

  “Synthesizer’s not done, Agent Daiss,” the Agent Medic said. “You can’t go yet.”

  “But the girl—”

  Their attention was abruptly diverted as they simultaneously received an emergency signal via EI. Both listened intently to the urgent message that followed.

  “ALL AGENTS EVACUATE THE CENTRAL BUSINESS DISTRICT. ALL AGENTS EVACUATE THE CENTRAL BUSINESS DISTRICT IMMEDIATELY BY ANY MEANS POSSIBLE. HEAVENLY MANDATE. REPEAT: HEAVENLY MANDATE. EVACUATE THE CBD.”

  “There, see?” The Agent Medic said. “Heavenly mandate. That’s bombs. Can’t do anything now, anyway, Agent Daiss. Just rest.”

  Heading out of the CBD

  Old Fart half-walked, half-ran through the sheeting rain, with Rosa and a group of six Subjects, through the dark, wet, empty CBD walkways, clutching the bioplexi brick so tightly his fingers were numb. He avoided the emergency lighting that had come on underneath the beetle buildings, though of course Feds and UE would have night vision equipment anyway.

  “We’re almost out of the CBD, Rosa,” he said. “See? There’s the gate. But the news trucks are all gone. What should we do?”

  Rosa said nothing. Old Fart slowed his pace as he surveyed the area once more. “I was sure we’d have trouble from the Feds,” he said. “You know. Barricades at the exits, someone on a megaphone, that kind of thing. But there’s been nothing. They can’t just have given up.”

  The little group started through the gate. The concrete in front of them suddenly crumbled, leaving a knee-deep hole. Another hole appeared next to it, and then another. Some of the Subjects turned back.

  “We have to keep going!” Old Fart said.

  There was a sound—like the sound of someone being punched in the stomach but amplified a thousand times—and the Subject nearest him went down. Part of the Subject’s head was gone. Another Subject was hit and her head vanished. Then Rosa’s head exploded.