Vanguard Prime Book 1

by Steven Lochran

  The Overman lifts up the turbine once more, then slams it down again. And again. And again. Beneath the barrage, Agent Alpha struggles to his feet, his eyes still sparking. With each blow, however, he stoops more and more, the size of the crater he’s in growing larger and larger, until finally he lies still. Unmoving.

  The Overman flings the turbine to one side. He stands, panting, overcome by his own ferocity. That’s when he turns around and sees me standing there, my fingers poised over the keyboard.

  His breathing slows.

  ‘You?’ he says quietly. ‘You, the last hope? You, the last man? Look at him, boy! Look at your hero and think! Do you really want to stand against me? Do you really want to throw away your life so recklessly?’

  I look from the Overman to the wreckage in which Agent Alpha lies silent, with his eyes closed to the world.

  And I turn. And I run. I run faster than I’ve ever run before …

  I run through the dark hallway and down along the stairs and I do all this in less than a second and my mind is running just as fast because all day long I’ve been trying and failing and trying again to come up with a plan, any plan, I just need a plan! Nothing’s coming to me, nothing at all, what am I going to do, what can I do, I have no idea what to do!

  I keep running and running and before I know it I’m running on water, I’m really running on water, oh my God oh my God oh my God!

  I see the Round Table broken and shining in the last hour of sunlight the world has left and the gleaming metal of it sparks inside my brain, igniting an entire idea, and BAM! That’s it! I know what I need now! I know the key to my new plan!

  I get to the Round Table and I run around and around and around it but I have no idea how to get on-board because there’s no stairs and no way in and I can’t stop or I’ll fall into the ocean. I’ll just fall fall fall. And then I see what I need to do. The waves are crashing on my force-field making it flare orange against blue against white foam. It’s so simple!

  And I run back to the first step of the temple, pausing only for a moment. I hope that I’m right, I hope that I’m not about to die. I let out a breath and feel the water lapping at my feet. I start running on the spot, building up speed, the tide bubbling beneath me.

  And then I’m off. I’m running faster than warp factors and everything is a blur everything is a bolt everything is a beam of light but as I’m going I’m concentrating on my force-field making it strong making sure it won’t give way when I need it most.

  I get to the Round Table and close my eyes and lower my head and I run straight at it jumping at the last moment and smashing into it at top speed. The metal gives with a sick rending noise and I’m through the other side! I did it! Without even a scratch on me I’m standing in the hull of the ship.

  There’s no time to congratulate myself. I look around and get an idea of where I am and I run. I run for everything and everyone in the world because if I’m slow this time then my world is gone gone gone, dead and gone.

  Hangar Bay 2, Level 7

  Clambering aboard the jet that brought her here with Sam, the Major finally finds what she is looking for.

  The cockpit radio springs to life at her touch. She wastes no time on formalities.

  ‘This is Major Blackthorne, Special Military Liaison to Vanguard Prime. I need you to patch me through to the Chairman of the AN Neohuman Operations Committee. Now!’

  I reach the Gallery and flare my force-field again and crash through each and every cell until I’m standing in front of the one I need.

  ‘My boy! You’re still alive! But for how much longer?’ Spring-Heeled Jack hisses at me from his cell.

  ‘Shut up!’ I tell him. ‘I’m so sick of supervillains I could puke!’

  I head straight into Persona’s cell and find what I need sitting in the corner, just where we left it.

  The Overman’s device.

  I grab the metal cylinder, its sleek surface like that of a ruined warship glinting in the sun. I stare at it, cogs and turbines clicking over in my head. I hope this works.

  I hold tight and sprint back the way I came, back through the hull, out onto the surface of the water, back to the temple.

  Back to the Overman.

  ‘Major Blackthorne.’

  The Chairman’s voice fills the other end of the line, sounding remarkably calm for a man who’s just been told that the world is only minutes away from ending.

  ‘Mr Chairman,’ the Major replies. ‘I’m contacting you from the cockpit of Kittyhawk 3. The Overman has compromised the Round Table. It’s no longer online but Agent Alpha and Goldrush have both been deployed with the mission of stopping the Overman’s launch.’

  ‘Goldrush?’ the Chairman repeats. ‘The boy? Where are the others? Gaia? Knight of Wands?’

  ‘MIA, sir. Whatever you could offer in way of air or naval support would –’

  ‘Major, I’m going to stop you there. You should know … we’ve already taken steps to contain the situation.’

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ the Major says. ‘What’s the ETA, sir?’

  ‘You misunderstand, Major. We’re not sending support. We’re launching a counter-offensive. We’ve signalled Minipax-1.’

  ‘But … sir! There’s still personnel on the ground!’

  ‘We realise that, Major. However, we’re talking about more than six billion civilian causalities should your people fail – which, given what you’ve told me thus far, is a reasonable prospect. Understandably, we’ve taken measures to ensure the Overman does not prove successful.’

  ‘Sir, if you just give us a little more time, I’m sure we could –’

  ‘Major, you have less than three minutes until Minipax-1 is in orbit over your location. Then I’m giving the order to fire.’

  I’m up the stairs and down the hall in the blink of an eye, at the speed of a single thought, the device held firmly in my right hand. As I get to the control room I hear the computer voice.

  Launch sequence 75 per cent complete.

  Agent Alpha is still motionless. The Overman has his back to me. He’s hovering in front of the handful of computer monitors he didn’t destroy with his attack on Agent Alpha. They’re showing the areas that his missiles will detonate over, launching his apocalyptic virus. I can see the names from here. New York, Edinburgh, Shanghai. Rome, Beijing and Mumbai. Auckland, Moscow, Johannesburg and Canberra. All of them will be gone, all of them will be dead if I fail now.

  I run for the Overman but the sound of my feet on stone gives me away. He swings around just in time to face me, his force-field exploding around him in a burst of bloody crimson. He raises his hand as I leap at him, my own force-field glowing golden and pure. I hang in the air above him, the power of our two auras clashing against each other, rippling with force and fury.

  ‘You brat! You think you can stand against me? You think you can undo the greatness of my unfolding history?’

  Launch sequence 82 per cent complete.

  ‘You’re no hero!’ the Overman hisses. ‘You’re just some kid!’

  A chaotic storm of scarlet gold roars around us as, inch by painful inch, I get closer to the Overman. He’s almost within reach now, scowling at me with every drop of hatred that runs through his crooked veins. But there’s a small flicker of something in there. What is it? Doubt? Shock? And then I get it. His telekinesis – it’s not working on me!

  The realisation destroys the last shred of doubt I had.

  ‘I’m not just some kid,’ I say, hitting the red button. The device beeps in my clenched fist as it powers up. ‘I’m a superhero!’

  I stab out with the disposer, piercing the last centimetre of the Overman’s force-field. I aim straight for his temple and hit it dead on. The Overman screams as the device pulses through his brain, looping it over on itself. I’m flung hard and fast against the wall, the wind smacked out of me before I land painfully on my knees.

  I look up with blurred vision at the Overman as he writhes and screams. I feel a s
tab of guilt, but as my eyesight clears I catch a glimpse of all the targets across the world.

  Launch sequence 90 per cent complete.

  The Overman’s cloak spills around him as he keels over, his force-field sparking out. He crumples to the floor, his glassy eyes the windows to his new prison, his mind stuck in the feedback loop that Machina warned us about. I pause to make sure he’s not getting back up before I speed over to the keyboard.

  I hammer in every combination of numbers I can think of, my fingers moving so fast over the buttons that the plastic is being worn down to nubs.

  Launch sequence 95 per cent complete.

  Come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon!

  I notice that one of the lights on the keyboard is switched off. I would smack myself in the head if I had the time. I hit the number lock button, switching the buttons over from grammatical characters to numerals, and then I start again, typing in combination after combination and getting an error message every time.

  Launch sequence 98 per cent complete.

  I should have forced the Overman to tell me what the combination was, or tried ripping out the circuitry. I should have told my parents I love them more. I should have played with Booster more often and taken him for more walks. I should have asked out Amanda Welsh when I had the chance. I should have done a lot of things. But it’s pointless now. It’s all pointless!

  Launch sequence 99 per cent complete.

  Keep going, keep going, keep –

  There’s a flash of green on the monitor, a confirmation order, and then the computer voice intones:

  Key code confirmed. Launch sequence aborted.

  I stand still, shocked, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

  Can that be it?

  Have I … have I just saved the world?

  The dotted lines showing the missiles’ flight paths on the map disappear.

  ‘Wow,’ I whisper to myself. ‘I … I did it.’

  I practically fall over from relief. I hear a groan from behind me and spin around. It’s Agent Alpha. I run over to him, clearing away the splintered rock that blankets him.

  ‘Overman …?’ he murmurs to me.

  ‘Defeated,’ I say as I struggle to help him up.

  ‘Launch …?’

  ‘Aborted.’

  ‘Good job, soldier.’

  He swings an arm around my neck to keep his balance. I help him to walk, moving past the twitching form of the Overman as we make our way out.

  There’s a crackle in my ear as we draw close to the temple’s doors. At first I think a fly is buzzing my ear.

  ‘–gent Alph– ome in – oldrush–anyone! –an you read m–?’

  ‘Major Blackthorne?’ I ask sub-vocally.

  We step out of the temple.

  ‘–oming! I repeat, we have incoming! The NOC has activated the Minipax-1!’

  ‘What?’ Agent Alpha asks. ‘But Sam stopped the launch! He’s defeated the Overman!’

  ‘The Chairman won’t cancel the order! This whole area is going to be under laser fire in just a few seconds!’ the Major replies, and my head starts to spin. This cannot be happening.

  ‘Laser fire?!’ I repeat in shock.

  ‘The Minipax-1 is an orbiting weapons platform,’ the Major says. ‘It’s got a laser cannon on it that can take out a small country in a single hit!’

  I look up at the early evening sky. The first stars are coming out, brilliant silver in a sea of purple. But one burns brighter than the rest, and it’s burning red.

  ‘I can see it!’ I cry out, horrified.

  Agent Alpha launches himself into the air without hesitation, flying towards the red star.

  ‘Sam, get back to the temple – there’s got to be some kind of fallout shelter there.’

  I turn to run, to follow his order, but then I stop. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here to help,’ I say.

  ‘Sam, there’s no time to argue …!’

  He’s right. One second the air is still, calm. The next it’s burning white-hot as the laser stabs down at us, an immense fiery column of supercharged light.

  BRRRRMMMMM! it rumbles, its power inescapable.

  Between the laser and its target, however, flies Agent Alpha. Hunched beneath the blast, sparks spit over his shoulders and flames dance all around him. All by himself, he’s holding off the fire from heaven.

  ‘Michael!’ the Major shouts down the line.

  ‘Can’t … hold it …!’ Agent Alpha grunts, the blast pushing him down with its unrelenting fury. Though he’s using all his strength to keep the beam from hitting, it’s like watching a bug trying to hold off the swat.

  The blast has pushed him so far down now that he’s only a few metres from my head. I can feel the heat of the beam as it crackles against Agent Alpha, the sound of it roaring in my ears.

  ‘I think I can …’ I start to say, unsure of how to finish.

  I run.

  My force-field bursts into life as I sprint in a circle, looping around and around and around on myself. All I can see is the golden light of my force-field as I add my power to Agent Alpha’s, pushing the beam further back, keeping it from impacting and blowing us all away.

  I remember being at the playground when I was very young. I spent all day on the merry-go-round, spinning it faster and faster until I fell down sick and dizzy. That was nothing compared to this. Reality blurs. Nausea hits and hits hard. I keep running.

  For all this effort, though, the beam remains just as strong and just as unyielding. I can’t stop to talk, can’t stop to think, so there’s no way for me to ask what we can do if the NOC doesn’t switch the cannon off. My legs ache, my body is screaming at me. I’ve never run so fast in my life. Nobody’s ever run so fast in all of history. But I’m tired, so tired, and it’s only a matter of time until I can’t run anymore, until the beam wins …

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ someone says, and at first I think it’s Agent Alpha.

  Through the golden haze I see a black jet approaching, and suddenly I know.

  ‘Hang in there, gentlemen,’ the Knight of Wands says from the cockpit of the Chariot. ‘I’m almost with you.’

  I keep running, too exhausted to say anything. The Chariot buzzes past us and veers upward, flying parallel to the unending lightning strike. Agent Alpha looks up.

  ‘Ethan! What are you …?’

  ‘It doesn’t look like they’ll be turning the tap off anytime soon,’ the Knight says, the Chariot flying higher and higher until it’s just a black dot overhead. ‘Lucky for us I’ve got just the right tool to switch it off myself.’

  ‘The Chariot’s not built to fly at that altitude, Ethan!’ Major Blackthorne shouts down the line. ‘If you’re trying to blow up the Minipax, it’s not going to …!’

  ‘Thanks for the advice, Daedalus, but this is the only chance we’ve got. Michael, Sam … hold on just a second longer!’

  ‘Good luck, Ethan,’ Agent Alpha replies, his face twisted in pain. He’s hovering just above me now, his V-suit shredded.

  ‘Hurry!’ I chime in, the glow that surrounds me growing brighter, growing into a blinding whiteness that threatens to take me and everything with it. And just as it reaches the point that all I can see is white, perfect white, there’s the sound of a distant explosion and the beam shuts off as quickly and simply as a light switch.

  I collapse to the ground, my entire body writhing with pain, my head spinning. Agent Alpha falls beside me, barely conscious. I watch the sky, feeling like I may never be able to stand again, as the red star blows apart into a thousand fiery pieces.

  I stare up, mesmerised by the sight. The day is over. The world really has been saved.

  ‘Knight of Wands?’ I hear the Major’s voice. ‘Do you copy? Knight of Wands, I repeat, do you copy?’

  …

  ‘Do you copy?’

  The Major comes to join us on the temple steps, her lifeboat bobbing at the water’s edge. We stand beneath a darkening sky, staring upward
with muted hope.

  ‘Ethan?’ Agent Alpha asks. ‘Ethan, can you hear me?’

  All we hear is the waves rolling in and the cry of the seagulls that are looking to nest for the night.

  ‘I thought there was a rule against using our civilian names in radio communications,’ comes the reply, followed only moments later by the rumbling of jet engines and the glare of landing lights. We can’t help but cheer as the Chariot makes a vertical landing on top of the temple and the cloaked form of the Knight drops from his aircraft. As he walks down the steps towards us, a late sun shower sprinkles down, like the earth is washing itself clean.

  ‘The Chariot’s missiles made it through the upper atmosphere and hit the satellite,’ he explains as he strides up to us. ‘Though I imagine that’s probably the least impressive thing to have happened today.’

  The Major and Agent Alpha recount the day’s events to him, and only once does it occur to me how amazing this moment is. I settle down to watch the last moments of the sunset, the horizon painted in a brilliant fading radiance. It’s because of this that I’m the first to notice the woman walking out of the surf.

  ‘Gaia!’ I cry as she marches up, her sword in one hand, Cronus’s helmet in the other.

  ‘What did I miss?’ she grins as she throws the helmet, dripping with seawater, onto the step in front of us.

  Briefing Room of the Neohuman Operations Committee, Allied Nations Headquarters, New York

  Along a polished oak desk, fifteen serious figures sit in gathering for their weekly meeting. Today, a sixteenth figure joins them. She sits at the far end of the table, her platinum hair pulled back, the medals on her military uniform proudly polished.

  The Chairman, sitting at the other end, eyes her warily. ‘Where was it that Gaia said Cronus disappeared, Major?’ he asks.

  ‘Given that she was at the bottom of the ocean without any kind of navigational equipment at the time, Mr Chairman, she’s unsure of exact coordinates. Their conflict brought them to the edge of an underwater volcanic vent. They struggled there for a while but eventually Cronus lost his footing and fell in. The helmet is all that remains.’