Vanguard Prime Book 1

by Steven Lochran

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she says.

  ‘So do I,’ Agent Alpha sighs.

  That makes three of us, I think to myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I race up to the flight deck and for a second I’m overcome by the melting orange that is the sunset. Pink clouds are slicked across a ruby sky, the waves that lap against the boat are gentle and calming.

  I look out over the edge of the ship and calculate the multi-storey drop to the water below. It’s more than enough to shatter every bone in my body. I head for a lifeboat suspended over the side of the ship by a harness, ready to go. It must have been left behind when everyone tried to evacuate.

  I hop in, trying to ignore the way it sways beneath me, trying not to remember how high up I am. There’s a control panel that, thankfully, is marked with a very clear green ‘Up’ button and a very clear red ‘Down’ button. I hit the red button and almost fall over. The boat zips down so rapidly that I’m splashing into the water before I’ve even had the chance to sit.

  I’m grateful for every single time Dad dragged me fishing as I hit the ignition button on the motor and pull the ripcord. The boat springs into sputtering life and I’m off, speeding at top gear towards the island.

  It takes me quite a while to reach the shore – more than enough time for panic and dread to really sink their claws in. And even though it’s hard to hear the engine over the pounding of the surf, I can’t help being hyper-aware of it, worried that it will give me away.

  I pull up at the edge of the temple and quickly cut the engine. I hop onto the first step, which has water foaming over its surface. The step is as wide and high as a theatre stage, and as I look at all the other steps spiralling upwards, my head sways with vertigo.

  I lose even more time picking my way up the staircase. For whatever reason, my powers have chosen now to go back to being dormant, leaving me to berate myself for the umpteenth time over being a super-speedster who can’t use his power whenever he wants.

  By the time I reach the top I’m sweaty, winded, and I have the world’s most intense side stitch. In fact, I’m focusing so much on how uncomfortable I’m feeling that I don’t think to approach the temple doors with any kind of stealth. As I get closer to them, I remember suddenly and curse to myself, veering off the path and edging up against the side of the black chamber that sits at the very top.

  So much for being a superhero!

  I sidle along the outside wall, praying I haven’t been spotted, and come up against the giant doors. They’re covered in barnacles and smoothed by the salt water, but they’re still as solid as ever. They’ve also been left wide open. The Overman’s obviously not expecting visitors.

  I peer around the corner. The coast is clear. I slip in through the doorframe as quietly as I can. The hallway is shrouded in darkness and the floor is covered in a slippery green sludge. I feel like I’m being swallowed as I creep down the hall.

  There are strange carvings on the walls surrounding me. One depicts beings too tall and too thin to be human, apparently worshipping at the feet of a giant creature sitting on a throne of bodies. It has a face shaped like a skull, but instead of a mouth it has a squirming nest of tentacles. One fierce eye sits in the middle of its face, and hundreds more prickly little eyes are spotted across its pulpy, bald head. Its body is thin and sharp and mossy, with four arms ending in clawed, webbed hands.

  I shudder as I pass the many, many hieroglyphs of the creature, either depicting it being worshipped or committing horrible acts of violence, or both simultaneously. It’s the kind of stuff that nightmares and horror movies are reserved for, and if this is the way the Dragon chose to decorate, I’m glad I never met him.

  I pass a doorway that opens out onto a massive room full of humming engines and spinning turbines. What does the Overman need so much power for?

  Glancing further up along the hallway, I see a golden light that seeps out into the darkness. Creeping closer, I hear the unmistakable sound of the Overman’s voice. I draw up close to the corner and, being very careful, I peek around the edge of the doorframe, using my visor to zoom in and enhance my vision.

  The Overman is hovering in front of a huge bank of consoles, control boards and monitors. The room is a fusion of Aztec-style architecture and 21st-century war room technology – light is coming from both the computer screens and the flickering torches lining the ancient stone walls. A webcam is set up on the largest of the plasma screens, all of which are reflecting the Overman’s image back at him.

  ‘This is the Overman, and this is the epitaph I offer the world. Take note of these words, huddled masses, for they’re the last that most of you will ever hear, and, for those chosen few, the first of your new Colossus,’ he says, speaking into the camera with a balled fist that he pounds on his chest. ‘I have taken control of every single television and radio station on the planet using your own communications satellites. I have also taken over the sanctuary of the Dragon.

  ‘Before his capture, the Dragon spent all of the proceeds from his criminal endeavours setting up a state-of-the-art battle station, including a number of missile silos. The warheads in these missiles carry stock of an airborne virus. While the Dragon never launched them, they remain active to this day, needing only the correct sequence number to fire them.

  ‘I have that sequence number. When the missiles are launched, they’ll rocket towards targets across the globe, exploding in the upper atmosphere and drowning the earth in a virus that, by my estimation, should wipe out at least 90 per cent of the world’s population. Only by starting anew will we have any chance of greatness. Only by wiping out those who do not have the strength to survive will humanity once again rise up and claim the destiny it has denied itself for so long – a destiny that will be met only through the leadership that I will offer!

  ‘I do not send out this message as a threat. There will be no negotiation. There will be no mercy. I send this message out so that this moment will be forever remembered. I send this message out into the pages of history, the first act of my New World Order.

  ‘I have been called “mad”, but there is always some reason in madness, and I have seen the future. Mankind’s fate lies in darkness unless a stand is made and the weakness is stripped from its core. And you, my people, are the weak!’

  The Overman’s speech grows louder, more fevered, until he’s shouting down the camera lens and stabbing his finger in the air like it’s a weapon. I can’t help flinching in response.

  ‘I have defeated the world’s armies,’ he continues, all but screaming now. ‘I have defeated Vanguard Prime! I have defeated all the would-be champions of the tired, the weak and the corrupt!

  ‘Dead are all gods. NOW IS THE TIME OF THE OVERMAN!’

  The Overman cuts the signal. In the same motion, he plugs a series of numbers into the console in front of him.

  A hollow voice intones: Entry code authorised. Launch sequence initiated.

  The Bridge

  Major Blackthorne and Agent Alpha listen in horror as the Overman broadcasts his intentions to the world. Though she’d already been struggling with her bonds, the Major now redoubles her efforts. With no super strength or any other powers to call on, however, the twisted steel of her makeshift cage is as inescapable as ever. All the while, Agent Alpha remains silent and unmoving, lost in thought.

  ‘I have an idea,’ he says suddenly.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ the Major grunts as she tries dislocating her shoulder to slip free.

  ‘Remember my trip to Geneva last week?’

  ‘When you went to CERN?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Agent Alpha says. ‘We were conducting energy tests, and I absorbed some anti-matter energy. Every other form of energy I’ve tried using against this force-field hasn’t worked, but anti-matter might prove powerful enough. I can use the telekinetic field against itself as a reaction chamber for the anti-matter energy.’

  ‘So why haven’t you done it yet?’

  ‘Beca
use it’s hard work …’

  ‘I never pegged you for a slacker,’ the Major says.

  Agent Alpha continues without pause. ‘And there’s a hitch. I’ll have to contain the telekinetic field inside a magnetic field, and I’ll have to do it with split-second timing. If I’m off, if I lose control of it, I could blow a hole in the Earth the size of an entire continent. But it’s the only option we have left …’

  The Major doesn’t reply immediately, allowing the information to absorb. Slowly, her expression changes to one of sober resolve. ‘Do it,’ she says simply.

  Agent Alpha nods and closes his eyes. From his palms, a swirling mass of oily black energy begins to form. He raises his hands and places them on the force-field, which sparks like someone touching an electric fence.

  The Agent’s brow creases as he intensifies the power that bubbles from his palms. The anti-matter energy collides against the humming red of the telekinetic prison, provoking roars and flares. Sweat streams down the Agent’s face. His arms shake as the effort of controlling the power that flows from him takes its toll.

  Small explosions erupt around his shoulders and torso. Contained within the field, they do no harm to the rest of the bridge, but they rock Agent Alpha’s body, threatening to throw him off-balance. Holding firm, he increases the strength of the energy flow, manipulating the trajectory of it so that it hits the barrier on one side and rebounds to the other side, then rolls around the entire parameter.

  Major Blackthorne squeezes her eyes shut as the light within the bubble glows so bright that it threatens to burn her retinas. The entire bridge lights up like a sports stadium at night, with a cocoon of flame suspended in the centre. Agent Alpha’s prison has become a blast furnace.

  ‘Michael!’ the Major shouts over the tidal wave of noise, but it’s of no use – Agent Alpha is lost in the heart of a dying star. As the sound and fury reaches its climax, there’s a sudden huge cracking sound. Rays of light, sharp as razor blades, strike out from the centre of the ball of energy. The Major turns her head away. This is it. Agent Alpha has lost control. She braces herself for the explosion.

  It doesn’t come.

  Instead, the energy cascades in on itself. The light implodes, the force snuffed out, and in its shuddering wake stands Agent Alpha, free of his prison. He takes one step forward, trembles, nearly falls. He grabs the wall, righting himself just in time. His face is drawn, his eyes dark.

  ‘Michael?’ the Major asks. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m free,’ he replies, shuffling towards the Major as if every step is like walking underwater. ‘But … it was so much … so much …’

  ‘You should rest,’ the Major says as he takes hold of her cage.

  ‘No time.’ With visible pain, he pulls her free of the remaining bonds. She steps out and takes his wrist.

  ‘Your pulse is going like a jackhammer. I’m amazed you’re still standing. Let me take it from here.’

  ‘Contact the mainland,’ Agent Alpha says. ‘I’m going to help Sam.’

  ‘You can’t face the Overman like this. He’ll kill you!’

  ‘Billions of people will die if I stop now. What would you have me do?’

  The Major looks at the Agent, but says nothing. Instead she moves to the radio, hitting every button. Silence.

  ‘It’s not transmitting!’ She smashes the microphone against the receiver in frustration.

  ‘Find another one,’ Agent Alpha says, launching himself into the air. ‘Let them know we’re not going down without a fight.’

  ‘Don’t get yourself killed.’

  ‘We do what we have to do.’

  The Agent smiles at her one last time and flies up and out of the hole in the roof. The Major watches him disappear. Then she turns and begins to run.

  When the Overman announces what his plan is, I swear I can hear the billions of screams around the world. Then I realise that it’s coming from inside my own head. It feels like there’s a geyser in my brain, spilling sick fear through every last fibre of my being. What do I do now? What do I do?

  Calculating trajectories and warming up launch systems, the Overman’s computer announces, pulling me out of my paralysing dread. Launch sequence 12 per cent complete.

  I still have time!

  I take a tentative step forward. Everyone I’ve seen stand against the Overman has been defeated in seconds. Ignoring that, I take another step, and another, and just as I’m about to turn the corner – my breath seizing in my throat – I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  I nearly cry out at the shock, spinning around to see Agent Alpha staring back at me. He has deep circles under his eyes and rivulets of sweat pouring down his skin. He’s radiating so much heat I can hardly stand near him. He looks terrible, but I’m so incredibly relieved to see him.

  ‘I’ll go in first,’ he whispers. ‘Do you think you can cancel the launch if I keep him distracted?’

  I nod, even though I think my chances of being able to do that are pretty freaking slim. Agent Alpha pulls himself up to his full height, which seems to take a lot of effort, and steps around the corner.

  ‘Khalid! I see you’ve managed to break free,’ comes the Overman’s surprised voice.

  ‘I can’t let you do this, Adam.’

  ‘What makes you think you have any ability to stop me? Your efforts have proved laughably futile so far.’

  ‘I think you want to be stopped,’ Agent Alpha says. I can hear him moving around the room, drawing the Overman’s attention away from the door and the computer bank. ‘We were friends, Adam. The man I knew wouldn’t want this.’

  ‘You never knew me, Khalid. You only thought you did. I told you before – you’ve always underestimated me. That ends today. I perform now the act of mercy you’ve always proven so incapable of.’

  I peer around the corner and see that the Agent is across the room now and the Overman’s back is turned. I steel myself one last time before I step out from hiding and tiptoe towards the control panel.

  ‘What you call mercy, I call cold-blooded,’ Agent Alpha says. ‘But you know what I think? What I really think? If you ever really wanted to do any of the things you’ve set out to do over the years we’ve been fighting, you would have done it by now. You would have wiped out Washington, you would have obliterated Australia. If you really wanted to be Emperor of Earth, if you really had your mind set on it, I don’t think there’s a lot we could have done to stop you. None of it happened because you didn’t want it to happen.’

  The Overman’s retort is sharp and angry.

  ‘I tell you now, Khalid, my focus is clear and my motivation pure. The world is rife with weakness. I will give it strength by cleansing it with fire.’

  I reach the control panel. It’s set up like a pretty straightforward keyboard. I toggle the mouse and find the Cancel option onscreen. A box pops up asking for my key code.

  ‘Is that so?’ Agent Alpha asks in the background. He must have a great poker face because I’m only a few feet away from the Overman and he hasn’t noticed. ‘But if you were really trying all those years … what does that say? With the power you’re meant to possess – and more importantly, with the genius intellect you lay claim to – shouldn’t all this have been done years ago? If we were able to stop you each and every time, what does that say about you?’

  ‘There were extenuating circumstances!’ the Overman shoots back. ‘There were aspects of my plans that –’

  ‘That you overlooked? That you didn’t see coming? Doesn’t sound like the handiwork of a living God to me. That sounds more like the failings of a narcissistic blowhard.’

  I frantically race through my memory, trying to recall what numbers I saw the Overman type in when he initiated the launch. I’m pretty sure I remember the four numbers, but not their sequence. I take a deep silent breath and use my powers to tap in variations of the digits as fast as I can. I’m told over and over again that the key code is incorrect but I keep trying.

  ‘How dare
you!’ the Overman says, his voice rising.

  ‘You know where your downfall was, Adam?’ Agent Alpha says, pressing forward. ‘It was the day you mistook your ignorance for insight. You read a dog-eared copy of an annotated Nietzsche book and suddenly you’re walking around with delusions of grandeur. Somehow, you got it in your head that memorising slabs of text and sprinkling it into your speech made you a genius.’

  ‘Shut up!’ the Overman spits.

  ‘Survival of the fittest doesn’t consist of blowing everyone else off the face of the Earth. And only the worst of bigots think they can justify genocide from what they read and misinterpret. The truth of the matter is that you’re an idiot, Adam. You’re damaged goods. You were a stupid kid who joined the military because he thought he’d be living out an action movie, and you grew up to be an even more stupid adult who thought because he got superpowers that made him a god. But you’re not Bruce Willis and you’re not Jesus Christ. You’re not even the Overman. Not really. You’re just some guy called Adam Drexler, a would-be supervillain who’s so stupid that, instead of simply taking a compass and flying straight to the Dragon’s Lair, he airlifted the world’s largest warship all the way with him, because he didn’t know how to work out coordinates any other way.’

  ‘Shut up shut up SHUT UP!!!’

  The Overman screams and light fixtures start to burst, spraying electricity. The entire room rumbles and drops of water rain over our heads. The computer monitors flash off and on.

  The Overman waves his arm wildly and the wall directly facing us quakes. The stonework quivers before a massive turbine comes smashing through from the engine room.

  The Overman points it straight at Agent Alpha and sends it hurtling like a cannonball. Agent Alpha tries to brace himself for the impact but the weight of several hundred tonnes proves too much, smashing him into the ground like an express train barrelling down the line. The concrete floor cracks, fractures spilling out beneath the enormous turbine like spiderwebs.

  The Overman flicks his hand and the turbine rises into the air. Agent Alpha looks up groggily. He shoots me a look that tells me to keep going, even as the Overman brings the turbine smashing down on him again. My fingers freeze over the keyboard.