The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League

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The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League Page 24

by Bassett, Thurston


  “One…two…three…” Brad muttered.

  Then his gun was aiming in the direction of the first light.

  There were three hisses and the bulbs vanished with a crack, one after the other.

  They were in darkness again.

  Brad could hear Brick scuffing on the concrete to the steel door.

  The two women created some covering fire shooting in different directions.

  Random shots whizzed about over their heads and into the side of the van.

  The guards were uneasy with the light gone, and they were wasting ammunition.

  Brad listened to the shots and gauged where the most accurate of the security guards was shooting from.

  Ten o’clock, seventy metres.

  Brad anticipated the guard’s rate and arc of fire and stood, fearlessly aiming his Beretta in the direction he had calculated.

  He peeled off two shots and then took cover again.

  No more shots came from that direction, his aim was perfect. Deadly.

  Just as Brad knelt beside Esther and checked his gun, there was a hiss and a loud pop as the plastic explosive detonated.

  There was a red hot gaping hole where the door’s handle and lock should have been. Light streaked out through the new opening.

  Light from the inside.

  “Go, now!” Brad called. He made a dash to the door while Brick and Esther fired shots into the dark behind them to keep the guards on edge.

  Brad kicked the steel door and it swung inside with a loud clang. As it hit the wall inside, it was followed by resonant bang, a gunshot.

  There was a security guard holding a smoking Colt 45 standing with three others. He was DPHR.

  Brad’s assessment took microseconds, but he’d missed something. It was as if the world was frozen, everything was in slow motion.

  The smoke from the guard’s gun billowed and drifted, the expression on the man’s face relaxed from a contorted squint and the resonating sound of the gunfire echoed and droned on long after the bullet had left the chamber.

  Had the world slowed down, or had he sped up?

  He didn’t know that he was even capable of that kind of speed.

  He wanted to revel in it and see how far he could take this newly discovered talent, when he realized there was a noise emanating from behind him. A word that had been stretched beyond recognition.

  It was a name.

  Sam.

  It was Esther’s voice screaming the word.

  In his frozen moment he dared a half turn of his head to see why the sound of the girl’s name was ringing out in space.

  Sam stood just behind him at his left shoulder. The top of Sam’s head was completely missing and the air around her head was a rosy cloud. She was wide eyed and her mouth was open in a soundless warning.

  Looking back to the slow moving scene in front of him Brad could see all four guards raising their weapons.

  Brick was still covering their backs, and Esther was looking at her friend, watching her crumple to the ground.

  Brad was the only one who was able to change the situation.

  He pulled the trigger of his Beretta and there was a gold flash and tiny red mist in front of the DPHR officer, three more flashes and more little red splashes filled the air around the guards blocking the entrance.

  It was beautiful.

  Scarlet flowers blooming in mid-air.

  Then life sped up again.

  Four uniformed bodies collapsed and Esther finished calling to Sam, who lay broken in a bloody pile.

  Brad became aware of the guards behind them. They were closing in.

  “Get in and close the door!” Brad said as he grabbed Esther by the collar and dragged her though. “If you die at her side, this will be for nothing.”

  She sobbed and crawled inside followed by Brick.

  “Shane?” Brick looked back to the closed door.

  “He hasn’t fired for thirty six seconds, and none of them have fired at him under the truck. He will probably slip out and kill them all as they get to the door.” Brad pressed his comm receiver and whispered. “Wait till they get to the door, then take them out. Wait till their guard is down.”

  “Okay.” Shane responded in a whisper.

  “Cleary, situation?” Brad asked the leader of the other group that was assaulting the front of the facility. “Cleary?”

  “Here. Got ‘em pinned, but they are holding the door. They have a harsh rate of fire. Wilson is cactus and the truck is blocking the enemy vehicles from escape.”

  “Wilson?”

  “He was driving the truck sir. Got him through the window.”

  “Sorry. Hold tight.”

  “Just do what we came here for and I’ll keep these bastards interested in us.”

  “Roger,” Brad finished.

  Four bodies stood between them and a corridor that would take them onto the facility’s main work floor. It wasn’t going to be far, they just had to be careful.

  “Take their guns,” Brad told his remaining team mates. “We will need quantity of ammunition now over stealth and cunning. They know we are here. They will be ready.”

  As Brad searched the body of the DPHR officer he found only a clip of ammunition. He found no papers or wallet, or anything else tying the man to the organization. He caught himself cringing as he searched and wondered if he would finish this mission wishing that he had made the man suffer.

  “Your PHC scum better hope that they have looked after my friends,” he muttered angrily as he wiped the blood on the man’s jacket. “Or they are going to find that their death won’t be nearly as nice and fast as yours.”

  Chapter 26

  THE LITTLE RED light flashed on and then off, on and then off.

  “What is that about?” Dereck Lucas asked as he stood in the atrium at the top of the Lucas and Associates building. “That’s the brewery. Is it an attack?”

  His scientific assistant, Cam, adjusted his glasses and checked the computer. “Umm… That’s the brewery sir. Security there has been breached.” His tone was calm, he didn’t want his boss flying off the handle right now, not when his field team was about to enable the wave receivers and channel all that raw power toward the building.

  A mistake could be disastrous.

  “Boothe is handling it, I hope,” Dereck hissed as he looked about at the thirty monitors on the wall of the atrium.

  Each of the screens would become part of a massive videoconference where the thirty heads of the investment groups would watch the birth of a new era.

  Dereck needed to take his mind off the wait, he needed a distraction.

  He wandered about the atrium inspecting the equipment. There were huge scaffolds and receiving grids connected to big computers and generators.

  It was marvelous, and it was all his grandfather’s design. His father had spent his whole life accumulating the materials and the resources for Dereck to be able to build this technological marvel. All his life Dereck had been part of this amazing plan and he felt honoured that he was the one to hit the switch.

  “Sir. Mr Sundry is online now. He wants to speak to you personally.” The assistant bowed his head respectfully.

  “Fine. Tell the team I’m hitting the switch in six minutes.”

  The assistant nodded and retreated, leaving Dereck alone beside the machine.

  Dereck slipped his dark grey jacket on over his white collared black shirt.

  Dereck liked his dark, sleek look.

  He slicked back his shoulder length hair and checked that he was clean-shaven enough.

  Ready.

  He stepped up onto the adjacent conference floor; it was a raised, flat white square floor, like a boxing ring. The square podium stood in front of the wall of monitors.

  Only one was lit, showing a man sitting at a desk looking intently at the activities in the atrium via a camera feed.

  “Mr Lucas!” the older man said. He was a bitter looking man with a European accent. “I have not ha
d the chance to meet the man who claims he will change the world. My absence was not of my making, I hope my representative was adequate.”

  “Of course, Mr Sundry. I was informed of your family tragedy and was happy to communicate through the other channels. I hope things are looking up,” Dereck said with sympathy.

  “My mother was a great woman, she will be missed.” Mr Sundry nodded toward the machinery in the background. “I want to hear about this grand plan. I have the details, but it scarcely sounds believable to me. I would benefit from hearing about it from you personally.

  Dereck took a breath and composed himself.

  He did not care how much these pathetic money hungry gluttons knew about the plan. He just needed them to play their part. “I would be happy to explain the process, Sir.”

  “Good, because my people aren’t committing to this unless I am convinced.” The old man smiled, creasing his leathery face.

  He was enjoying this.

  He knew that he was the last one left to agree to the terms of the deal. Sundry knew that he was the final piece that needed to fall into place. If he refused to play his part in this, he would disrupt a worldwide initiative. He loved the power.

  Dereck’s representative had warned him that Sundry was more concerned with power than money, but he had thought the old man had committed.

  Cheeky old bastard, Dereck thought, you just lost everything.

  “Where shall I start?” Dereck asked in a patronizing tone, which was utterly lost on the man. “With this new technology we plan on changing the frequency that’s emitted by all technological devices. It will turn the globe into a microwave of suggestion. We will be in control of the public’s wants and needs.”

  “Suggestion, Mr Lucas?” Sundry raised a fuzzy grey eyebrow.

  “More than that. These radio waves affect the human brain and make them susceptible to suggestion. So, for example, if you want your product, say, your particular brand of banking or insurance, to be the choice of a particular cross-section of society, then you advertise following the guidelines we recommend. And the radio waves do the rest. People will believe they are making the better choice. This will be the same for food, drink, cars and tobacco. The competition will shrivel and die because we will own all the products on the planet that the people will choose.” Dereck smiled, “Because they will have no real choice.”

  “Hmm… I think I may follow. What are your recommended guidelines? And are there guarantees you can give me, that this science fiction will actually achieve what you claim?” the old man queried.

  Dereck looked at the floor to hide his anger.

  “Your father, Mr Lucas.” Sundry continued. “He was a very clever man, but he was ambitious. He spent years trying to convince some of us help fund his hair-brained schemes. He convinced some, but I have always had my doubts about this technology. Why would your father of all people be the one to dream up this maniacal plan?” He leaned forward in his chair so elbows rested on the desk in front of him. “I always thought it was just horse shit.”

  Dereck put his hands in his pockets and glanced at Cam, his project manager.

  The man nodded in response.

  There was a back up plan in case one of their investors or participants decided to be difficult, and unfortunately, Mr Sundry had just handed his life’s work to his own second in charge.

  “Well you see, Mr Sundry, we use specific volumes and tones in combination with a selection of colours at a certain brightness. Humans will do as they are asked if the stimulants are correct, even when they are not being weakened by advanced radio waves.”

  “What guarantees are there that my business is going to succeed because of your influence?” the man asked smiling. Sundry was so pleased. He relished having the power to stop these companies from achieving their goal at the exact, agreed upon, moment. Mr Sundry was always too arrogant for his own good. At least that was what Dereck’s informant had told him, and his father hadn’t trusted him either.

  “Good bye, Mr Sundry. I’m sorry we couldn’t work together in this,” Dereck smiled back at the old man.

  “I beg your…” A hiss sounded in the background and Mr Sundry’s head fell forward onto the table.

  Another figure stepped into the video frame, Mr Sundry’s second in charge and business manager, Stellan Linski. The younger man smiled in greeting to the camera.

  “Good evening, Mr Lucas,” Mr Linski said with a nod. “We will have everything ready on schedule.”

  “Glad to hear it. Congratulations on the promotion, Mr Linski.”

  “Thank you, Sir. The transmitters are being positioned as we speak.” The man placed the silenced pistol on his new desk.

  The time had come, the equipment was ready and so was the lab team.

  One by one the videoconference monitors came to life with different suited men and women from countries all over the world.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the unveiling of the dawn of a new era.” Dereck Lucas stood in the front of the videoconference monitors, smiling proudly to all the pompous business people who were watching him expectantly.

  “You are about to witness the culmination of three generation’s worth of work and research, and the enslavement of the human race.” Dereck smiled confidently at the surprised and suspicious looks he was now receiving from his business partners.

  “Slavery?” One of the women asked, looking unsettled.

  “Let’s call it the ‘susceptibility of the human race’ then. We are about to make them the consumers of everything we want. They will work like compliant slaves in any industry that will have them, just so they have enough money to pay for the things that we tell them they need.” Dereck chuckled to himself. “I guess you could say we are about to make the world our captive audience, literally.” Several of the business people smiled nervously, but others sweated and looked uncomfortable.

  “Forty seconds ladies and gentlemen. Your transmitters are to be activated now. Please signal when this is complete.”

  The different people on the monitors turned to secretaries, typed emails or made phone calls. One at a time they began to nod and hold up a yellow square of paper to tell Dereck that the task had been completed on their end. In only moments every member of the videoconference was holding a yellow square.

  “Cam, initiate the signal receiver and commence operation of the machine,” he said to his project manager. “Ladies and gentleman, I’d now like to inform you that what you have initiated is irreversible. You have just aided me in fulfilling a deal made with an outside party.”

  “I beg your pardon Mr Lucas?” A young American software developer said shaking his head. “This was not part of the agreement! We have not had contact with this party.”

  “Well Sir,” Dereck began. “This was a deal made on a different plane of reality, so I decided you wouldn’t understand.” The business types began to look panicked.

  Some began to cover their microphones so they could confirm details with their employees, the faces of others darkened with anger.

  “Mr Lucas, I don’t understand! Other planes of reality, what is happening?”

  “Well my good sir, of course you don’t. Soon you will have all the money you want, as long as you do as you are asked.” Dereck smiled, “You see, I have made a deal with the devil, and he’s bringing the party to us.” There was more unrest as business people were trying to call their people to turn off the transmitters, but it was futile. “The radio waves are a means to an end. I just need them to activate my little doorway here. This is where the party starts. It will be the merging with The Blind, that will sedate the population of our world. The insatiable appetite of The Blind, a race that feeds off human emotion, will enslave the people. Humans will become mindless drones that won’t even know their own whims unless we tell them.”

  “You are insane! What the hell are you talking about?” One of the people demanded.

  “I recommend that you shut the hell up. If you even think
about changing the commands that you have just given your employees, you will receive a nasty surprise.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Lucas? You are crazy!” A businessman pointed accusingly.

  Dereck glared at the man on one of the dozens of screens. “Your surprise is standing in your office with a silenced pistol.” The business people looked around frantically at the people that were in their offices. “You won’t know who it is, and they wont tell you who they are, but the moment you back out on our deal they will put a bullet into your head and complete the project on your behalf.” He noticed some of the men and women on the screens didn’t look convinced. “Bring in Mr Crown!” Dereck called to his assistant, Shepherd.

  Shepherd was a big Post-Human that acted as Dereck’s personal bodyguard. The big man stepped onto the platform holding an older man by the forearm.

  This was Mr Crown, an Australian businessman who was one of the contributors to Dereck’s cause.

  “Say hello, Mr Crown.” Dereck demanded as Mr Crown was tossed onto the platform and knelt on the floor staring up at the wall of monitors.

  Dereck smiled at the shocked faces on the screens. “You all know Mr Crown, of course. He’s always an active partner in many of your international projects. Well here he is today, joining us for the biggest one yet.”

  “P-please…” Mr Crown begged.

  “This is a warning,” Dereck said looking up at the staring faces, “for anyone who thinks that I might be joking.”

  Dereck held out his hand and Shepherd handed him a gun.

  “This is what happens to you, if you dare try to back out on me.

  Dereck didn’t even flinch when he leveled the gun at the back of Mr Crown’s head and pulled the trigger.

  A loud crack echoed around the cavernous atrium.

  The nice clean platform was now spoiled with a dark red arc of spilled blood and the crumpled body of the businessman.

  “Is everyone clear?” Dereck asked calmly and quietly.

  All the faces on the screens were either pale or angry. Some were vocal and were trying to plead with Dereck, or called him a monster, others stared in cold silence and shame.

 

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