by Drew Cordell
We tossed our wrist links, smashing them under our feet as we moved into the upper level warehouse. The space was cramped with tall metal shelves squeezed together and haphazardly piled with crates. The shelves took up almost the entire room, somehow managing to make a massive space feel cramped and narrow. I took the chance to replace the drum mag in my shotgun, securing the old one to a slot in my belt. It clicked into place and my ammo counter jumped back up to 30.
“I have eyes on Marwin. He is by himself running through the first room you came through. I think he will make it to the exit,” the Builder reported. “Still no sign of Christopher and Grez.”
“We have to go back for them!” Violet shot.
“No, we don’t,” I said, continuing along the wall with Mary.
“They know to move to the exit. We can’t stay here or we die,” Mary said. “Think about it. If they’re running to the exit, then there is a good chance they slip past us unnoticed while we put ourselves in even greater danger.
Violet reluctantly followed behind us, keeping her SMG raised as we moved through the dark warehouse, scanning the shadows for any signs of enemies. So far, things were looking good for us.
When we reached the maintenance hallway, I pressed my hand on the console and the door slid open. Unlike the last hallway we had run through, this one had another glass door blocking the path to our right which led deeper into the Haven in the direction we had come from. Christopher and Grez were banging on the glass on the other side. Omega, one hundred feet away, was walking toward them.
19 OMEGA
∆∆∆
Grez and Christopher were plastered in sweat, both of their faces straining with the efforts of their yelling. The doors it seemed were soundproof, and nothing made it through.
“Open the door!” Violet yelled.
I started to move my hand to the console, but Mary jumped in front of me, blocking my access while she placed the barrel of her rifle on Violet’s stomach. “Drop your weapon and don’t move. I will shoot!”
“What is this?” Violet screamed. “There is no time. Open the door or you will have to kill me.”
“Mary, this isn’t right; don’t do this.” I started to move toward the console again, but Mary drew her sidearm and pressed it against my chest. Her finger was on the trigger.
“I’m doing this for you. I hope you understand, Jake.”
I was stunned. “What? How the hell can you be doing this for me?”
“We all have to make difficult decisions. You’ve had to make enough already. There’s only so much one person can go through, and I know how much your past haunts you. It’s time I share the burden.”
Violet tensed but didn’t move against the barrel of the rifle. “This is your last chance to open the door or I will kill you. Your bullet won’t get through my Nanotech, and I’ll open your throat.”
Grez and Christopher had caught on to what was happening, turning to face Omega and going full-auto with their weapons. Distant pops, almost too faint to hear rung out, breaking the horrible silence between the three of us on our side of the hall. Christopher didn’t deserve to die. Maybe Grez didn’t either. It didn’t have to be like this.
“Mary, come on, step back so we can open the door. I’ll close it right when they’re through and we’ll escape,” I pleaded, eyeing her sidearm and feeling cold adrenaline spike through my veins when I saw the safety was off. Her eyes, however, were fixed on Violet, waiting to squeeze the trigger with one sudden move.
Violet seemed to recognize the danger she was in and hadn’t attempted to move. Cold fury and panic twisted her face as tears slid down from her eyes. “Please don’t take him away from me,” she begged.
“Mary, please. It doesn’t have to be like this. There is another way here, believe me. You don’t want to live with this.”
“It does have to be like this. I’m giving Violet the chance to live. Are you going to help me, or do I need to shoot you, Jake?” she asked. Her voice was terrifying and cold.
The situation was horrible, but cold detachment washed over me, a cruel, unwavering determination to see this through to the end—to understand this was for the best. “I’m sorry, Violet.”
“Jake, take her weapons,” Mary said, holstering her handgun and placing both hands on her rifle, still fixed on Violet.
“I hate you,” Violet cried at Mary, horror fixed on her face as Omega’s shield held against Christopher and Grez’s sustained fire, wobbling and glimmering as their bullets bounced off harmlessly. The robot continued at its slow walking pace, covering the distance and drawing closer to the two men.
As I moved to take Violet’s weapons, she surged forward suddenly, trying to do something to save her father and Christopher. Mary pulled the trigger once. A loud pop reverberated through the cramped tunnel, ringing painfully in my ears long after the sound had faded. Violet crumpled to the ground, clutching her abdomen as crimson blood welled from beneath her fingers, dripping off her gloves in thick droplets. She reached for a weapon, but Mary put the barrel of her rifle on her forehead. Violet pulled her other hand away from the weapon, clutching her bleeding wound with hatred in her eyes.
“She doesn’t have to die,” I said, dread consuming me. “Please, Mary, we need to leave and she is more valuable to us alive. If she doesn’t make it, then we won’t get Leroy back, and we will have a hard time recovering my father’s box.”
Violet was whimpering on the ground, crying in pain, agony, and desperation. “Don’t take him away from me, please. Not like this. He’s the only thing I have left. You can have the ship, please.”
Omega’s void whip wrapped around Christopher and Grez. They screamed in stark silence, their finals words silenced from the other side of the door. The lengths of cord ignited into black flames, and Grez and Christopher were whisked away in void-like mist, gone forever.
Mary’s clenched her jaw, breathing in and preparing to shoot, but I dashed forward and slammed Violet across the forehead with the butt of my shotgun. The blow was harder than I intended, but it did the job and might’ve just saved her life. Her head dipped in unconsciousness, and I reached down and scooped her up, flipping her limp body across my shoulder.
“We’re leaving!” I screamed as the door behind us slid open. I had to focus on carrying Violet. At probably 120 pounds, she was light enough that I could still run, but she was awkward to carry while I wore full armor and hauled the rest of my gear. I wouldn’t be able to shoot while I was carrying her, and she needed immediate medical attention or she was going to bleed out.
Mary dashed in front of me, and we sprinted away from Omega who was still walking, apparently seeing no desire to run. If it locked us in at the other side, we would have no hope of escape. It was a grim thought, but I pushed it to the side, letting both my weapons hang from their slings so I could focus on carrying Violet. Blood was leaking from her bullet wound at an alarming rate, covering my armor, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it until we had put distance between ourselves and Omega.
“Jake, I’m sorry. I had to,” Mary said between breaths as we covered the distance of the hall.
“Shut up!” I snapped, reaching the console and placing my hand across the display. It flashed red.
“Builder, I need you to get this door open. Now!” I yelled. “Mary, patch Violet up while I work on this. She should have Biogel in her pack. Don’t you dare let her die.”
“Working on it,” the Builder reported. “Omega seems to have locked you out. It is also fighting me hard on this one. Try to find another way to open the door through that console.”
Omega was walking toward us in the distance. He was at least one thousand feet away, the cables of its whip dangling by its side as it shambled toward us. Mary set to work on patching Violet’s wound after checking her vitals. She was still alive, but Mary didn’t look certain she would pull through, especially with all the running we had to do. I turned my attention away from them, focusing on the console an
d looking for a way to access the menu. The screen was blank and generic, and no matter how I pressed it, I couldn’t get any text to display.
“Might have a work around. Give me a few minutes,” the Builder called.
“We don’t have a few minutes,” I growled, slamming my fist on the wall next to the console and cursing. I loaded a full magazine into my empty rifle, topping it off. Grez and Christopher both had powerful weapons, and they hadn’t even appeared to slow Omega down. I didn’t like our odds, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight if it came to it.
Omega was much closer now, probably only a minute out if it maintained its slow pace. Then, it did something I didn’t expect. It dropped its weapon and stood still, as if waiting for me.
I set my weapons against the wall. “I’m going to go talk to it. It knows I’m a Paragon Thinker. Maybe it will let you live if I help it.”
Mary shook her head. “No, the Builder is going to open this door any second and we’re going to escape. I can’t let you do that.”
“It might be your only chance,” the Builder said in a thin voice. “I do not think I will be able to open the door.”
“Remember when I said I would do anything so you would have a better life. I meant it. I will pay any cost if it means I can save you,” I said. “I have to do this; it might be the only way. And if we shoot at it, this will never work. Don’t let Violet die.”
Tears were streaming down her face. “It won't let you live. There is no way this will work. Please, don’t do this.”
I pulled her close to me, pulling off her helmet and placing both hands on her head and putting my forehead on hers. “No matter what happens, I love you.”
I kissed her then, feeling the softness of her lips for what may have been the last time. I felt my lips tremble as I turned away. I didn’t dare look back. Instead, I looked forward and walked toward Omega. The robot stood motionless, not even seeming to notice I was walking toward it.
When I was within 20 feet of it, I screamed out. “I will help you. Spare their lives and I will help you here!”
“You will not die here,” it said.
“Please. Tell me what I can do.”
“In a few minutes, you may leave. You and your friends may take the ODIN II. This lab, however, will be mine.”
“I don’t understand. Why were you waiting for the Champions?”
“There are things even you cannot understand. You will go on with your life not understanding what happened here for a long time. I am not what you think.”
“Why did the others have to die if you aren’t going to hurt us?” I asked, almost choking on my words.
“Because they would try to stop you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Why are you forcing us out of the facility?”
“Because you can’t stay here. The Builder can’t stay here. There are things you aren’t meant to understand yet. I just need you to know I did this so you didn’t have to. I hope the girl will live. She wasn’t supposed to die. I had to deactivate her armor so she would not kill you or your friend. I’m just sorry the bullet had to do so much damage.”
“Who are you?” I demanded, feeling a sinking familiarity set in.
“Omega.”
“I don’t know who you are,” I said, tears welling in my eyes as an inexplicable sadness crashed over me from deep within. “Is this all a setup? Did the Builder create this place and send us here?”
“No. I have been here since the beginning. You and I exist through a cyclical paradox, through a chain of events trapped in temporal chains. It is as cruel as it is beautiful, but it must continue.”
“Please, help me understand.”
“In time, you will understand. For now, live. They must think I am dangerous. Put your faith in me once more so I can guide you toward a better life.”
“Please, I don’t understand.”
“Go. The door is open. Leave this place. Finish this.”
The faceless robot stood, reaching down and coiling its whip and placing it on its belt before turning and walking the other way.
I turned around, sprinting to Mary, a torrent of emotion swirling from within. I wrapped her in my arms, holding her. I didn’t understand what had happened or how, but I knew we couldn’t stay here.
“What did it want?” she asked, obviously surprised we weren’t dead.
“I don’t know. I don’t understand, but we have to leave.”
It wasn’t possible, and I was terrified of what was coming. I had to believe, had to put my faith in something I didn’t understand again, and trust it would lead me through this like everything else.
“How is she doing?” I looked at Violet who was still unconscious on the floor. She was pale and plastered in blood, but it didn’t look like she was bleeding anymore. Biogel coated her wound and patched the damage from within.
“Holding up okay for now. Look, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt her, but she tried to kill me,” Mary started.
I raised a hand to cut her off. “Builder, can you hear us?”
“I am here. I lost you all for the past few minutes on visual and comms, though. What happened?”
“Long story, I’ll tell you later. We got the door open. We’re on our way back up to you.”
“Good, we do not have long. Marwin is on his way up an elevator. He is fine. I saw what happened with Christopher and Grez. I am sorry there was not another way to convince him to help us. Once we leave the facility, I will tend to Violet’s wound immediately.”
“Thank you,” I said, exchanging a glance with Mary. I carefully lifted Violet, setting her over my shoulder again before proceeding down out of the maintenance hallway and back toward the exit of this wing of the lab.
Five minutes later we were back in the elevator and climbing toward the hangar where the ODIN II was waiting. My mind kept replaying the events of the past hour, trying to piece together the impossible and comprehend exactly what had happened and how.
The elevator came to a grinding halt. As it stopped the doors opened, and Marwin rushed to help me lift Violet onto a stretcher that two Spinners brought to take her to the ship’s Medbay. Marwin still clutched his rifle, prepared to use it on the Spinners if they turned on us, but I had a strong feeling that wasn’t going to happen.
20 SNOW
∆∆∆
“Prepare for takeoff. You might experience some discomfort during the procedure,” the Builder said over the ODIN II’s PA system. Mary was sitting with next to me in the bridge of the ODIN II. Violet had survived her gunshot wound so far, and Jasper suspected she would make it through surgery which the Builder would perform mid-flight once the takeoff from the lab was complete. After that, the ship could fly itself, and Marwin would be on standby to take over if needed.
The engines roared again, deep vibrations shaking through the entire frame as it lifted itself off the ground, only feet above the surface below.
The force was staggering, and vents along the walls of the massive hangar helped disperse the pressure and forces of the engines as they lifted the massive ship out of its holding supports. The door on the outermost wall of the hangar opened, revealing a smooth tunnel of darkness with a strange frame on the outside which was fixated to some kind of track system.
“All lights green,” the Builder said. “Here we go.”
The ship inched forward, moving toward the frame on the edge of the tunnel. I watched the displays as the Builder lined up the frame of the ODIN II with hardpoints secured on the frame fixed to the track in several spots. Now that we were farther in, we could see the frame was more of a sleeve on massive wheels attached to steel rails the size of buildings. Heavy clicks rung out from the outside, and a display to my right indicated the docking procedure was successful. The Builder initiated the escape sequence, holding his hand near the primary controls in case he needed to take over.
“7Gs for five seconds, 5Gs for ten, then 3Gs until escape then I will level it off and cut accel
eration. Here we go.”
The ODIN II thundered to life, the rear engines blasting at full strength. My head was forced back into the chair and blackness swam in my vision. I clenched my jaw, struggling to remain conscious as five seconds were drawn out to what felt like much longer. Some of the force dropped off, but I was still reeling from the first interval and felt myself drifting away into the blackness. My head was too heavy, and this was just as bad as Marwin’s suicidal flying tendencies.
There was silence over the radio as the ODIN II rolled along the massive track, and I doubted I was the only one struggling to remain conscious. When the second interval dropped off, the effects were still numbing but I managed to look over at Mary. Her head was fixed in place, but her fearful eyes were open and met mine. I tried to manage a smile but felt a wave of vertigo wash over me and fought back a terrible rumbling in my gut. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make it through so the horrible sensation would pass.
There was a sickly drop as we cleared the tunnel and all acceleration halted. The vertical thrusters kicked in and leveled the ship, lifting it back up then keeping a steady altitude, several thousand feet above the ground.
“We are clear. On our way to New York now,” the Builder announced to everyone on board. He toggled off the PA system so we could talk privately. “You should start sending out the message signals on the full Artemis spectrum. As soon as we get a response from the Champions, we will set the ODIN II down and put her in stealth mode, hopefully far outside the city until we can plan an extraction.”
“Copy,” Marwin agreed. “Getting that ready now. Nice flying, Builder.”
“Good. Everything is working better than expected. The ODIN II is war-ready. Just wait until you see what this technology can do,” the Builder said, turning to one of the side consoles to type in a command on the keyboard.
I took a deep breath, collecting myself before checking the displays and exterior cameras. This had somehow been a more horrible experience than Marwin’s crash landing in the Mids, and I found I was starting to hate and fear flying. I assured myself that everything was fine, and I took the opportunity to look at the white landscape of Vermont. Blankets of what must have been snow covered the entire expanse of land, draping it in a calm peacefulness. There were trees everywhere, dotting the hilly terrain with specks of dark color against the expanse of white.
