The Phoenix Fallacy_Book II_Norm

by Jon Sourbeer,

  “Come over here,” Marcus called worriedly from the hall. Janus and Celes walked across the hall to where Marcus was standing. Janus swallowed hard, and Celes gasped. “How many soldiers were they training here?”

  Stretching out before them was a firing range, hundreds of meters long, extended deep into the rock many times over.

  “What was Middleton doing here?” Celes asked.

  Sounds of an Infernus bursting into the dining room greeted their ears, “Overlord Alastor!”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Middleton exclaimed angrily.

  “Is there a problem, Middleton?” Alastor asked smugly. “I am sure Pyrus Reynolds has something very important to tell me.”

  Reynolds responded breathlessly, “I did exactly as you ordered, sir. Bretts, Shanks, Cobb, and I searched around. Shanks and Cobb are at the entrance. Bretts and I followed you and Overlord Middleton. When we saw you stop to eat, we – err,” he paused, “searched Middleton’s rooms.”

  “You did what?” Middleton exclaimed.

  The Infernus quickly sped up his tale, his voice becoming heavily accented under the strain, “Anyway, we didn’t find nothin’ and moved on. We were comin’ to report when Bretts heard something movin’ in the kitchen.” The static became a little heavier, and Janus had to strain to hear the next sentence. “He looked in and saw a bunch of S.T.s disappearin’ into a fridge in the back with a couple o’ crates. They didn’t come out again. Bretts is trying to get in right now.”

  Janus rushed headlong back into the hall along with Celes and Marcus. Reaching the storage room door, Janus felt his heart sink, cursing himself for his stupidity. Mint mistake. Peering inside through the window, Janus could barely see that slowly, but surely, the hidden door was opening. Suddenly, a huge hand reached out from the darkness and pulled Janus back. He turned to see Ramirez put a huge armored finger to his helmet and point to one of the barracks. The storage room door opened and the sound of clomping feet could be heard coming down the hall.

  Alastor’s voice crackled in their headset, “Excellent work, Pyrus. You have done well. Care to explain yourself, Middleton?”

  Pressing themselves against the wall of the barracks behind the door, they heard Bretts pause at the open door, and then move on. Middleton’s shaking voice came through as a whisper on the radio, “There is nothing to explain. I have done nothing wrong,”

  “We shall see,” Alastor said, “Would you care to give me the guided tour, or should I see what’s beyond this door on my own?”

  Chapter 15: Unwelcome Guests

  “Interesting,” Alastor commented dryly just outside of the barracks where Janus, Celes, Marcus and Ramirez hid, “but what is the purpose of such a mundane extension? And still such reverence for a dead Corporation.”

  He, Middleton, Reynolds, Alastor’s other two Inferni, and Middleton’s honor guard were passing through the hidden barracks of the base, just within view.

  “Overlord Alastor, sir,” Bretts voice crackled over a radio that Alastor held, “I think you should come see this – wait, what are you doing?” There was scream and the radio cut out.

  Alastor gave Middleton a curious look, “Need I remind you of who sent me or what will happen should I not report back?”

  Middleton shifted nervously.

  Janus wanted to find out what Bretts had discovered and what had happened, but his gut, and Celes hand on his shoulder told him patience was needed. As the two Overlords disappeared down the hall, and their voices faded away, Janus turned to Ramirez, “Get Lyn. I’m sure she’s tired of being crammed in that vent.” Ramirez nodded and swiftly disappeared.

  Janus turned to the Celes and Marcus, “Let’s see what other secrets Middleton’s hiding.”

  They moved silently and slowly, but it wasn’t necessary. It was clear that Middleton had made an effort to clear out the facility as quickly as possible. Non-essential items – beds, foot lockers, tables and chairs, had all been left behind. But judging from the size of these hidden rooms, Middleton must have had several days notice – she must have started moving as soon as SPARTAN started its search.

  But it was not the beds, the sheer size, or Phoenix emblem emblazoned upon every door and surface that truly added to the mystery – it was a small, unassuming room, perhaps a tenth the size of many of the others.

  It was beyond all of the barracks, the firing range, and the mess. Beyond the classrooms, the libraries, several huge rooms of weights, obstacles, and tests. And just before a heavy door marked ‘Cryostorage Transport’.

  It had never been expanded, and was of a solid metal construction through and through. Not one ounce of exposed rock peeked from any wall or surface, just heavy electrical connections.

  And it was totally empty – with one exception.

  Framed in the light of the door, tall, thin plates of a silvery metal were stacked in groups of three for transport. They lay untouched and forgotten in the rush. Marcus lay a gloved hand across the metal, “It’s definitely Immutium.” A short-lived attempt to lift one of the plates confirmed his remark.

  Janus tapped on his visor lights, highlighting a large door in the center of the wall, “It connects directly to the cryostorage and transport room.”

  Celes pointed upward, to a track along the ceiling, “There are rails for moving the plates.”

  “Janus,” Marcus pointed to another heavy door on the far side of the room. Leaving Celes to guard the hall, Janus and Marcus slid inside.

  It was totally black inside, only the light from their suits shining against the darkness. And it was empty but for a small, glowing puddle of blue goo in the middle of the room. Janus crouched and ran an armored finger through it – it tingled.

  “Electrogel,” Janus whispered.

  “This room has maintenance tube or connection access to another,” Marcus said, pointing to a conspicuous hole in the floor. He moved close to the hole, listening intently. “I can hear running water. It’s too deep to see, but I would guess it connects to the water supply.”

  He stood up, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Janus nodded, extremely troubled, “What could have been in these rooms that was more valuable than what was left behind?”

  As they returned to the room with the Immutium, Celes quickly signaled them the alarm. Someone(s) coming. Hall.

  The three quickly grabbed their weapons and pressed themselves against the wall. A moment later, Ramirez and Lyn, back in her armor, swept quickly into the room, carrying the crates between them.

  “Thought we might need these again,” Lyn said, hoisting up one of the boxes.

  Janus nodded to the pair, and in short order the team had loaded the crates up again. Standing before the door marked ‘Cryostorage transport’, Janus calmly opened it with the push of a button.

  Cryostorage was large, and nearly devoid of any exposed rock. Three levels of a heavily braced platform ran the outer ring of the room, with two large cranes or grapplers resting in the center. High in the top of the cavern, a fusion generator glowed, providing the power for the base. Across the room, on the lowest level, a long flat railcar waited silently before a gaping black maw, travelling through the heart of Lightemann’s ridge.

  Dozens of S.T.s and Inferni moved long, coffin-like metal boxes onto the railcar, placing them in perfectly shaped indentations on the car. Electrical connections sat exposed at every indentation, and a recessed plug was visible on each of the boxes as the cranes carefully pulled each coffin from the wall and placed it on the railcar. A second car waited empty on a side track. In one corner, a stack of broken crates, spilled electrical components and Immutium bars seemed out of place until Janus noticed a limp arm poking from the mess. Alastor gazed at the pile with anger in his eyes.

  “I have a feeling I know what happened to Bretts,” Marcus interjected quietly, staring at the arm.

  Janus nodded, “Keep acting naturally.”

  Stepping calmly, but smartly along the raised middle wal
kway, the five approached the lift that ran along one of the support spines. Janus noted that Alastor and Middleton had moved along the outside edge, giving Alastor a chance to examine the strange depressions, and a view of the activities from above. He moved with careful consideration, shooting glances at Middleton repeatedly, who was glistening in a sheen of sweat.

  “This room seems familiar,” Celes said softly.

  “Really?” Asked Lyn, surprised. “How so?”

  “I don’t know,” Celes said.

  “Déjà vu?” Marcus asked.

  She shook her head, “Maybe…”

  Janus tilted his head, “I have the same feeling. Let’s take a closer look.”

  The lift moved agonizingly slowly, and more than a few S.T.s glanced their way. Two Inferni stopped them as they stepped off.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here. Go back to your side of the base, Cerberus.”

  Janus was taken aback by the vehemence in the Infernus’s voice, but didn’t show it. He did a quick check of the Inferni armor for an officer’s insignia, and was surprised to see a fiery Phoenix emblazoned upon the shoulder. Janus studied the Infernus for another fraction of a second and said, “That may be, but we follow orders from our Overlord. Miss Middleton has ordered us to assist you. Overlord Alastor is posing a larger problem than expected.”

  The Infernus studied Janus for what seemed an eternity, and Ramirez stepped forward. It took the Infernus a moment to realize that Ramirez met him at eye level, and Ramirez chuckled, “Some of us are quite good at moving dead weight.”

  The Infernus didn’t flinch and the pair stared each other down, until finally the Infernus made a motion with his head, “Fine. Help the cranes load up those Cryochambers over there onto the train. They need to be on the final shipment out.”

  They headed over to a wall of the metal coffins, depositing their crate of weapons on the rail car as they passed. Janus could only assume this is what the Infernus had meant. Ramirez took command of a treaded pallet, moving it towards the chambers and pulling one from the wall. Some of the other STs around them paused and glanced at each other.

  “Cryochambers?” Lyn said, low. Janus signed Unknown, and the others gave no signs of comprehension beyond his own.

  She moved to pull another chamber from the wall and jerked to a stop. She pulled again and nearly slammed into the strange device. “Heavy,” she said ruefully. Ramirez moved next to her and pulled two from the wall at once, sliding them smoothly onto the pallet.

  “Show off…,” she muttered. Ramirez just shrugged.

  Indicator, this side, Marcus signed.

  He bent swiftly over, feigning a quick adjustment, and popped back up. He spoke in the barest of whispers, “I think… I think it’s a person.”

  Even without seeing their faces, Janus knew the others were as alarmed as he was. On the next crate, Janus did a quick check: Subject: Gamma 3147-8, Sex: Male, Height: 185 cm, Weight: 75.4 kg. Status: Green.

  Janus made the sign for Yes, keeping his hand low and confirming Marcus’ assertion.

  What (is) this(?) Celes asked.

  Look. Ramirez signed as he moved his hand across the pallet controls, moving it down the line.

  The group turned to watch Overlord Alastor staring grimly out from walkway as he descended on the lift. A very worried Middleton stood behind him, the sweat on her large face making her look even more piggish. The three remaining Inferni surrounded him like a bubble.

  As he waited upon the lift, Alastor glanced in the direction of Brett’s arm. Middleton visibly twitched. Janus and the team quickly resumed their efforts to move the metal coffins, the other S.T.s had not stopped.

  The Infernus guard at the base of the lift stepped in front of Alastor, “I am sorry, sir, but this area is closed. I’m afraid it’s too dangerous right now,”

  “Oh get off of it, Sergeant,” Middleton waved him away.

  “But Miss, the Executor…” he protested.

  “I said move!” she commanded. The Infernus backed off.

  “Executor, Middleton?” Alastor asked. His face was troubled, as if confronted with an unexpected variable, “I’m not aware of any Executor order. What exactly are you are doing here?”

  “Research,” she said, keeping her face calm.

  Alastor rolled his eyes, “But what exactly are you researching?” He strolled over to the cryochambers that had already been loaded onto the rail. Janus struggled to control his impulse to turn and get a better look at the man. Celes signal caught his eye: S.T.s above. Janus glanced upwards, where S.T.s were quickly filling up the catwalks, weapons raised.

  Alastor, however, was too engrossed in the Cryochambers. His eyes narrowed, “What on earth…?”

  “Is there a problem?” An eerily familiar voice asked; Janus stopped in his tracks. Alastor whipped around, “Who said that?”

  He froze for a moment, staring up at the weapons surrounding him and then, summing up his courage he stepped back boldly into the center of the room. His Inferni followed him doggedly, but Middleton was a bit more hesitant. She and a couple S.T.s stood a few steps away.

  “I said – who said that?” Alastor exclaimed loudly. Janus couldn’t help but watch, the cryochambers forgotten. He had to give the man credit, he didn’t lack courage.

  “I did.” Delacroix, his long white hair forming a hood around his head, stepped from the shadows around the cryochambers. He was dressed in an elegant black and silver suit with a deep, blood red cape. His back was to Janus, so that only his long mane of hair was visible. He, Wouris and Celes had seen Delacroix in the Phoenix ruins, but they had never gotten a look at his face. Delacroix bowed to Overlord Alastor. A mocking bow.

  “I am Executor Delacroix. And you must be Alastor. I’ve heard so much about you,” Delacroix motioned with the back of his hand. “I must say I have gotten tired of it.”

  Janus shifted carefully for a better view, with only the tiniest of movements. The room was still – even Middleton’s labored breathing seemed dampened by Delacroix’s presence.

  “Executor? There is no Executor named Delacroix at Cerberus! And what has happened to my man Bretts’?” He pointed angrily at the limp arm. He gave Middleton a furious glance. She was sweating profusely.

  Delacroix shook a finger at him with a smile, “You certainly know your Executors – there is no Executor at Cerberus named Delacroix. But you are probably not familiar with me; I am an Executor of Titan,” he paused, “or more specifically, the Executor of Titan. In regards to your man, he had an unfortunate accident.” Delacroix waved his hand towards the jumbled pile of crates. “He apparently managed to knock over several tons of Immutium alloy on top of himself. Most tragic.”

  Something in Delacroix’s demeanor made the back of Janus’ neck prickle. And he could tell Alastor felt it, too. Panic had flashed ever so briefly across his face. But just as quickly, Alastor forced it back and stood up taller, responding nonchalantly, “A minor detail. I never really cared for him, anyway. But of course, that still doesn’t change the fact that Middleton dare not allow anyone to touch me. I’m sure this is just a simple operation that can be easily explained – even ignored – for the right price. But if I don’t report back to the Cerberus Executors, they will know something is wrong and respond ten-fold.”

  Delacroix voice took on a light tone, “I certainly hope so.” In an instant, a pistol appeared in his hand and shot Alastor dead between the eyes.

  Chapter 16: Magnus

  Alastor’s body had barely hit the floor before his Inferni were cut down in a hail of Zeus fire. One of Middleton’s S.T.s was caught in the crossfire, his Zeus sliding across the floor as he died in a final spasm.

  Delacroix raised a hand, and the firing ceased.

  Middleton, uncurled herself slowly from a ball on the floor, her knees shaking. She stared in shock at the scene. An Infernus wearing the Phoenix insignia landed next to her to help her up.

  “Magnus, what have you done? The Cerberus Executors
will pursue me to the ends of the earth for this!”

  Delacroix smiled, “They’ll pursue someone, but not you. This will only fuel the fire. Our friend Alastor stepped out a little too far this time. He hired SPARTAN to find you, but I’m guessing that little expense was never going to be brought to the attention of the Cerberus Executors. At least, not until after he had some evidence of your duplicity. And that gives us an opening.”

  “How?” Middleton implored.

  “SPARTAN did its job – they found this place for him. But, like all Mercs, they wanted more employment, so now I’ve paid them to eliminate all Cerberus Dryads in the area. Alastor’s little air fleet is in for a surprise. I told SPARTAN to leave one Dryad alive to report back to Cerberus.”

  “But what about Alastor? What about my troops?” Middleton asked, although she sounded far less concerned now.

  “Cerberus can suck up the troop losses. My men and operation need not be at risk. You can report that you believe Titan hired SPARTAN to find and infiltrate this base. Alastor was an unfortunate casualty.”

  “And how do I explain this?” Middleton waved her arm across the room at the cryochambers.

  “Give them the Electrogel, Immutium, the art, anything. Say you’ve been trying to pull relics from Phoenix for years – which is true. Research. Art Preservation. You’ll think of something. The SPARTAN attack will cover the rest. Mercs are Mercs – at least to most Executors. Why would they concern themselves with minor details? And perhaps we’ll even have a body to give them.

  “How so?” Middleton asked.

  “I suspect that our friends from ODIN have been poking around. A dead Merc from ODIN will be the same as a dead Merc from SPARTAN to the Executors.”

  Middleton sidled up to Delacroix, “But surely you don’t think that ODIN actually slipped into Phoenix, do you?”

  “Perhaps,” Delacroix said.