Armageddon Hyde in The Chosen and the Damned

by Joseph Terra Jr

  The man heard her call and turned towards her. "Hello, Sister! Are you well?"

  Armageddon was still holding some annoyance at the tent owner for boxing her in, and she felt it rising up in her as she approached the tent. But the man sounded so friendly and cheerful she found it hard to stay angry. As she neared the tent, she saw him rise and step out to meet her.

  He was a tall man, a couple of inches taller than Armageddon, with long straight hair and deeply tanned skin. He wore a beard and mustache, like most of the men in camp, but they were exceptionally well-groomed, as were his hair and nails. He had long, graceful hands, which he kept folded in front of him as he spoke. "You've had a long day, haven't you, Sister?" he said.

  "You could say that," Armageddon said. "Listen - I know it's late and all, but would you consider moving your tent? Just enough so I can get my truck out. I've been trapped here all day because of it. I'll help you put it back up - "

  "Oh, I can certainly move the tent," the man said, "If you really want me to. But are you sure you want to leave right now? It is late, and the desert is treacherous at night. Don't you think it would be better to wait until sunrise?"

  "I'd really rather not," Armageddon said. "I have somewhere I need to be..." She trailed off. "Wait. Just how late is it? It doesn't feel that - "

  "It is two hours past midnight," the man said.

  Armageddon stared at him. "Oh, Lord," she murmured. "Where did the time go?"

  The man looked at her with curiosity and a hint of concern. "So where exactly do you need to be? Is there an emergency of some kind?"

  "You might say that," Armageddon said. "I..." she trailed off. "I need to... I need to get somewhere."

  "Where?"

  Armageddon winced. "I'd rather not say the name out loud."

  "Ah..." The man seemed gently amused by this. "I think I know the place. Shall we call it another name, then?" He looked at her thoughtfully. "How about... Party Town?" He smiled. "Just a few miles south of Zaor Valley, yes? Home to a large pharmaceutical company."

  "Yes," Armageddon muttered. "That's the place."

  "So you need to get to Party Town. Why? Do you have a party to go to?" The man smiled. "No, I don't think that's it. You're not the partying type, are you, Sister?"

  Who are you? Armageddon wanted to ask. Instead she said: "I... I have something to do there. I don't know for sure, but... I think people are in danger."

  "Oh, there is most certainly danger, Sister," the man said quietly. "You need have no doubt about that. The outcry against that place has been very great."

  The words were chillingly familiar. "What... what do you mean?"

  "I know what is in your heart, Sister," the man said. "And your heart is good, I know that too. But you do not want to go back to that place. Not now." He spread his hands. "For by this time tomorrow, Party Town will no longer exist."

  "No," Armageddon whispered. "How can you know that? How can that be?"

  The man's voice was gentle. "You know it yourself, Sister - that's why your mind has been wearing at you this past day. Isn't that true? I know you want to do the right thing, but trust me when I say there is nothing you can do to prevent what is about to happen."

  His voice was so gentle, so kind - Armageddon wanted to acquiesce, to accept what it was saying. But deep down inside her, a spark of rebellion flared. "How can you say that?" she demanded. "You want me to sit back and let innocent people die? I have to find a way to help them!"

  "Innocent," the man said sadly. "And just how many innocent people have you met, Sister? In that place?"

  Armageddon frowned. "Some," she said, faltering. "Not many...

  "How many?" The man pressed. "Fifty? Forty? Ten?"

  Two and a half? Armageddon thought hysterically. "I don't know," she wailed. "Why does the number matter?"

  "And how will you judge the guilty from the innocent? Is it really for you to make such judgments, Sister?"

  Armageddon felt ready to cry, but she drew herself to her full height and looked the man in the eye. "My Church sent me on a mission to save an innocent. My cousin, Cherry. She is there, in that town, right now." Cherry, she thought - I should never have left you there.... "She's married," she went on. "She's with another family now. And that makes them my family too. Would you have me just leave my own family to be caught up in this? How can you ask that of me?"

  "I have asked nothing of you, Sister," The man said softly. "I have only come to warn you."

  Armageddon went silent a moment, looking at the man thoughtfully. "Well," she said, "I thank you for the warning, but I really need you to move your tent now."

  The man frowned. "Excuse me?"

  "When you first started talking," she said, "you told me you'd move your tent if I really wanted you to. Well, I really, really want you to move the tent." She looked at him expectantly.

  "Sister, I don't think you understand..."

  "Oh, I think I understand just fine. I mean - you're not a liar, are you? You've been telling me the truth this whole time - right?"

  The man looked offended. "Of course I have! And you know, in your heart, that it is true..."

  "Well then," Armageddon said, "I guess you have to move the tent then, don't you? Since you promised you would and all. I mean, otherwise you'd be a liar, right?"

  The man stared at her; she stared back.

  "Oh holy crap, lady," the man said. "All right, fine," he huffed. "Help me with this brace, then." As Armageddon moved to his side, he muttered, "This thing's gonna take me forever to reassemble in the dark."

  "Sorry," Armageddon mumbled. "I did promise I'd help put it back up. I'm sure I can spare a minute to - "

  "Oh no, I wouldn't dream of keeping you," the man said. "You've got important things to do, right? People to save, plans to mess with and whatever. No, no, that's fine. You go do your thing, and I'll put this tent back up all by myself."

  They worked in silence, except for the man's occasional muttering. When they were done, he waved her back to her truck. "You've got until about 2pm before everything goes down," he said. "Best hurry, if you want to make it in time."

  "Thank you - " Armageddon started to say.

  "Oh, save it," The man said. "You're a piece of work, lady, you know that?"

  In spite of everything, Armageddon felt herself blushing as she climbed into her truck.

  Part Four: Rescued?

  “Okay, fine. Shoot these Assholes!”

  I was told there would be cake

  Temptation: It's not just for dessert.

  The clock on the desk read 6:15 a.m.

  Bob Roberts picked up his walkie-talkie and cleared his throat before pressing the button. "Chand!" he said. "Wake up, pal. This is important." Silence from the other end. In the background, the clock ticked. A machine hummed into life somewhere deep in the complex of the factory. To Roberts, the sound had a soothing quality to it, like waves crashing on a beach. "Chand," he said. "I know you can hear me. Pick up!"

  There was a faint blast of static on the walkie talkie, followed by a very sleepy male voice. "Hey, Boss, it's really not a good time right now. Can you - "

  "Damn it, man!" Roberts managed to sound both jolly and furious at the same time, which is quite the trick if you can manage it. "I don't care if you were partying last night, Chand, it's time to step up. I thought you were my number one guy, Chand. Are you my guy or not? Because I have an opportunity for you."

  There was a faint, almost unnoticed tremor of excitement in his voice. Chand must have heard it, because he suddenly sounded considerably more awake. "You're calling me in?"

  "Soon as you can get here, my boy," Roberts said. "I need your expertise on this."

  There was a moment of silence, and then: "Okay. I'll be there soon. Is this another board project, boss? Because I don't think Werner's gonna - "

  Roberts laughed. "It's not a board project, Chand, don't you worry. It's just you, me, and a bunch of spear carriers who don't have a goddamn clue. You're my
number one guy on this, you understand? You're the man! So get your ass down here!" He set the walkie talkie down with a thump.

  "Stephens!" the voice roared. "You're late again. I told you to be here by seven!!"

  Stephens jumped, startled. "It's..." he glanced at his watch. "It's 7:02, boss. I was just grabbing a quick coffee before I checked in..." He gave Roberts a pleading look. "It's Sunday, Boss, you know?"

  Roberts advanced on him, scowling, and snatched the cup from his hand. He raised it to his mouth and started to drink.

  "Careful boss, it's hot!"

  Roberts gulped a throatful of scalding hot coffee, lowered the mug and looked at Stephens with contempt. "You goddamn wimp, it's barely lukewarm. Now get your ass down to your post. Now!"

  Stephens fled the cafeteria and hurried down the hall to his station. The door to the console room was open, white and green lights blinking above rows of dials and pressure gauges. Stephens went in, muttering, not bothering to shut the door behind him. 7am, he thought bitterly. On a Sunday. What the hell did I even turn up for? So that fat asshole can yell at me and steal my coffee? He sighed and went to the first console, checking the readings. Everything looked okay, which was hardly surprising - at this hour, about 80 per cent of the place was still shut down.

  "That wasn't very nice of him," a voice said from behind him. "Yelling at you like that."

  Stephens turned - and caught his breath. A young woman wearing a lab coat was standing there smiling at him. Stephens caught a hasty impression of auburn hair, an hourglass figure, and glasses before she put a mug of coffee in his hand.

  "Oh... thanks," Stephens managed. He checked her ample chest for a name tag but found none. "Uh... I don't think I've seen you around here before..."

  "Yeah, I tend to keep my head down," the young woman said. Her nose wrinkled with displeasure. "You can hardly blame me, right? Especially when guys like that run the place."

  "Who - Roberts?" Stephens shook his head. "Yeah. Guy's an assh- er, a nightmare,"

  The young woman giggled. "You can say asshole in front of me, Stephens. I'm not that easily offended."

  "Oh yeah, right..." Stephens gave her his best smile and then took a sip of coffee. "Oh my god," he managed, staring at her. "This is the best coffee I've ever tasted. Where did you get this?"

  "I made it myself." The girl grinned up at him. "I've made a bit of a study of biotech in my spare time, and I came up with some just amazing beans. Glad you like them!" The grin winked on and off. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll give you some more later..." Stephens tried to stammer out some sort of reply, but the girl quickly went on. "So what does Roberts have against you, anyway?"

  "Hell if I know," Stephens muttered. "He's hated me since the day I got here. I dunno what I did to deserve it other than being a lowly lab tech." He looked guiltily at the girl. She's a lab tech, right? Yeah, I mean, she's got to be. "Er - I didn't mean all lab techs..."

  The young woman laughed prettily. "You're so cute, Stephens," she said. "I already told you I'm not easily offended. But you know what? I think you're right. I think he just likes picking on people who can't do anything about it. I'm sure he'd start in on me - if he ever noticed I exist..." She frowned, also prettily. "I think you're just a really nice guy, and Roberts sees nice guys like you as victims."

  "Yeah," Stephens hesitated, almost changed the subject, then went on. "You know what, though - if I ever got a chance to get back at that guy... well, you might not think I was such a nice guy." Stop talking like that, you idiot! He told himself. She's gonna think you're a psycho! But he went on: the girl was looking at him with such sympathy that he felt powerless to stop. "If I thought I could get away with it... ah, I shouldn't even say..."

  The girl shrugged. "I dunno. Myself, I think it's good to vent sometimes. Just get stuff off my chest, you know?" She took a deep breath and stretched as she spoke, her bust rising hypnotically towards Stephens's eyes. "I mean... it's just a fantasy, right?"

  "Heh," Stephens managed. "Well if it's just fantasies we're talking about..." If it's just fantasies we're talking about, then dear god I would like to get something off your chest. "Put it this way," he said. "A couple of nights ago, I dreamed I set fire to this place with Roberts in it. Tied him to that stupid power chair of his, and..." He winced even as the words left his mouth. Now watch her turn and run, he thought. You're an idiot, Stephens. An idiot!

  But the girl didn't so much as flinch. "Oh, we all have crazy dreams sometimes," she said. "But dreams are just dreams, right? And I know a nice guy like you would never actually hurt someone."

  "I guess not," Stephens muttered. "I just wish there was some way I could get back him, you know? If I could just wipe that smug smile off his face - just once - that would be enough."

  The girl grinned. "That would be great, huh? That'd be really cool."

  "Yeah," Stephens sighed. "It'd be great. It's never gonna happen, though."

  The girl gave Stephens a long, speculative look. "Why not?" she asked. "If it was just a prank - I mean, if no one actually got hurt - don't you think it would be kinda fun?"

  "I don't think Roberts would react well to any pranks," Stephens said. "And I don't even want to think what he'd do to me if I got caught. They run security cameras in here, you know."

  The girl gave him a cute smile. "Oh, I know they do... but not today. Today, the cameras aren't running."

  "Huh? Why not?"

  "Because Mr Roberts is in here today working on a personal project," the young woman said. "One he's hiding from his colleagues on the board. And so today - conveniently - someone forgot to turn the cameras on."

  Stephens gave her a worried look. "Shit," he said. "What am I getting myself into, here? Is he doing something dangerous? Is that why I'm on vat duty today?"

  The girl put a reassuring hand on his arm. "No, no, nothing like that. I don't know exactly what his plan is, but he's cooking up an extra batch of yeast - that precursor they've been harping on about the past few weeks. I'm not sure why - they've got plenty of the stuff already. But here's what I do know: this is Roberts' pet project, and he's doing it at his own expense. He doesn't want his colleagues to know about it. And so if something were to go wrong..."

  Jenkins frowned, worried all over again. "What kind of something?"

  The girl gave him a wicked smile. "A spoiled vat, a gigantic cleaning bill - and a whole lot of explaining to do come Monday," she said. "How does that sound?"

  "Oh my god," Stephens said. "That would be so great. How do we do it?"

  "Oh, it's quite simple," the girl said. "We're running a skeleton staff, right? Barely a half a dozen people in the whole place. No one's actually gonna be in the manufacturing area once the production run starts. And like I said, the cameras are all shut down. All that would need to happen would be for someone..." - she gave him a meaningful look - "to sneak down there and put something in the vats."

  He gave her a skeptical look. "Something? What kind of something? I don't have the faintest idea what you'd need to mess up their damn precursor. Do you?"

  The girl grinned at him. "You're adorable, Stephens. Didn't I tell you I'm good with this kind of stuff? There's something down in the biotech department - something I've been working on. Call it a personal project of my own."

  She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Wait fifteen minutes, then head down to Biotech. I've left something for you."

  "But how will I - "

  The girl put a finger to his lips. "Shhh," she said. "You'll know it when you see it."

  She tipped him a wink and then headed for the door.

  The clock in the boardroom read 7:35 a.m.

  "So let me get this straight," Chand said. "You brought me in here - to make more precursor? Why all the secrecy? We've got vats of the stuff already."

  "I want to try something," Roberts said. "I've been talking to people, doing some digging through old journals." He looked rather pleased with himself. "I think I might have hit on a way of making a
new, improved version of the precursor."

  Chand had been yawning and rubbing his eyes all morning, but now he sat up straight and stared at Roberts. "And you're not telling the rest of the team, are you?"

  Roberts, looking smugger by the moment, shook his head. "I told you, Chand, you're my guy on this one. It's Sunday morning, and you and I are the only guys in this place with two goddamn brain cells to rub together. I deliberately chose the most clueless schmucks I could find to man this operation. No one - and I mean no one - understands what we're doing here. Just you and me."

  Chand looked around the big conference table, empty except for him and Roberts. The room seemed huge with just the two of them, huge and somehow eerie. Weird scene, he thought. Weird vibes. But Roberts, much and all as he was never going to win any Nobel Prizes for science, was no idiot. He was very, very good at picking other people's brains; and if he thought he'd hit on something, then Chand had to at least consider the possibility that it might be workable. "So - a new and improved version, huh? Let me guess. This version doesn't inconveniently kill 99% of people who're exposed to it without the inhibitor. Am I on track so far?" Roberts' smile was answer enough. "So," Chand said, "how certain are you about this?"

  "I'm not certain," Roberts said. "Not yet. That's why we're testing it. But I'm confident we're close. If not today, I think we can hit it the next time we g trial. I did a little preliminary testing offsite - with a small population of testers - and the results were positive."

  Chand looked at him, trying to mask his distaste. "So not all of them died, is that what you're saying?" Roberts shrugged, not meeting his eye. Chand clicked his tongue. "Just most of 'em, huh?'

  Roberts gave him an irritated look. "You're a bright boy, aren't you. These things happen in this business, Chand, you know that. It was early-phase: there were lots of details we hadn't worked through yet." He gave a rough, forced laugh and banged a hand on the table. "They went out happy though, I can tell you that much!"

  Chand nodded. "Right. I'm sure they did. So you've brought me in to oversee this, huh? Why me?"