Closing the window and turning to face Liam, Tyson gave an apologetic nod. “Sorry for setting off the alarm, my friend, but I fear we have a problem.”
“What kind of a problem?” Liam said.
“Peace Forcers.”
One of the Xenolight females shivered.
Liam didn’t realize Tyson’s swarm was able to keep tabs on the enemy from such a distance, but he was suddenly glad they’d brought it along. It truly seemed the Mind thought of everything.
“How long until they get here?”
Tyson looked straight at Liam, leaving no room for doubt. “You’d better start the countdown.”
Liam was struck by an urge to resist, but he shook it off and gave a quick nod.
“Thank you, Liam,” Tyson said. “I think it might be wise if I break the news to the remaining pilgrims?”
Once more Liam hesitated, but only for a moment. “That’s fine.” At this point, the only thing he cared about was escaping before the enemy arrived. There would be time enough for power struggles later on.
“WHY HIM?” ALIXS ASKED, his voice cracking. He looked exhausted. Liam thought he could see new, permanent looking worry lines under his eyes. The exodus was taking a serious toll.
“Because he asked,” Liam said, not wanting to get into it all over again with his closest friend, “and it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Alixs paused. He seemed to be thinking it over. “You know, most of the pilgrims came because of you and me. They believe in us, not just the cause. It’s important that we show strength and leadership, don’t you think?”
Liam sighed. He knew Alixs had a point. But he was tired, too, and hardly up to the task of doing battle with a power-crazed usurper. “Give him this, okay? He wants it, and he’s trying to prove himself. But once we get up there, then it’s a whole different game. Everyone will be on equal footing. And you’re right. They’re coming because they believe in us. That’s not going to change just because someone new comes along.”
Alixs bounced slightly off the ground, then back down again, a rather dizzying habit that Liam had come to realize was the Xenolight equivalent of pacing. He saw other Xenolight in the Tera-Prime group do the same, particularly under stress, which made him realize how little he knew about his own kind now. For some reason, he’d not had the urge to do it himself, though that could have to do with the fact that he was still getting his bearings.
“Once we get up there,” Alixs said in a carefully measured tone, “we do things our way. Agreed?”
“Of course, Alixs.”
Liam never thought otherwise, though he wasn’t surprised that Alixs was getting nervous. The machinations were just on the cusp of starting up full-scale, and they’d not yet even left the ground. And once the exodus was a success, they would lose the common cause that had united them so solidly all this time.
“Just let Tyson have his moment, and we’ll deal with politics later. When we have more time.”
“Okay,” Alixs agreed, forcing a smile.
“We need to start the countdown,” Liam said, turning to face his old friend. “I want you to do it.”
Alixs shook his head. “Liam, no. You’re the leader, you should—”
“This is your moment, Alixs. I’m part of the old regime, you’re the new. The first. I want you to do it.”
Alixs looked as if he’d protest further, but Liam cut him off with a raised hand. He reached out before Alixs stopped him. “Better not. Casual contact can be painful.”
Ignoring the warning, Liam grasped Alixs in a brotherly embrace. The contact was uncomfortable, with searing energy from both lashing forward to connect, only to repel backward moments later, but they were able to tolerate it well enough. The connection was strong, physically and emotionally, and that seemed to calm the energies within, enough so that there was no sudden surge like they were expecting.
Letting go, Liam guided his friend out of the chamber and over to the control center. They would need to confirm their identities in order to start the clock. It only required two of them, and it felt right, being the only witnesses. Once confirmed, the computer demanded a final authorization, which Alixs gave. Then he ordered the countdown to begin. Four hours to launch.
91.
The familiar holo-figures of Alixs and Liam were flanked on either side by a dozen or more Xenolights, including the female who’d been holding court out in the corridor earlier on. There was one more, standing in front of Alixs and Liam, who looked remarkably familiar. This one, Cain knew even more intimately than the other two, which he realized as soon as he mentally cast away the glow and focused on the vestigial features of the former Second Administrator of Tera-Prime.
Made it past Rois’ firing squad, did ya? Cain said this to himself, with only a casual interest. His main targets were the enemy terrorists standing behind, whether or not their leadership had been usurped. Tyson and his bunch could be taken care of later, after he’d cut the two heads off the snake.
“Don’t worry, folks,” Tyson said. “Calm down, please. We have everything under control.”
Almost as if on cue, the ongoing noise of the alarms suddenly cut out, and the lighting returned to normal. This had a calming effect on the new arrivals, as did the sight of Xenolights standing in front of them. Whispers filtered around the room, observations about how amazing it was to see them, how angelic they looked, and so on.
The Xenolight Tyson raised his arms to quiet the chatter, and cleared his throat. “Sorry for the alarm, everyone. Necessary precaution. Figured we needed a little added stress around here.” Nervous laughter accompanied his comment, and he laughed with them, calming them down even more.
Liam’s penetrating gaze was trained on the speaker, and he didn’t look pleased to be playing second fiddle. Trouble in paradise? Ever since this new batch came in, Cain had felt a sense that things were escalating. Such situations rarely favored the established order.
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Tyson. I arrived just a short while ago with the rest of the Tera-Prime Xenolight.” Cain noticed the voice was also echoing in from the exterior hallways. This announcement was site-wide, not just for the benefit of those in the orientation hall.
“As you know, our escape is far from assured, and I regret to inform you that the enemy is now closing on our location.”
Voices rose up. The Xenolight put up a hand again. “I know this is disturbing news. But according to our calculations, we still have time to get out before they arrive, if we accelerate the process. Unfortunately that means that most of you will have to be processed more quickly than we’d hoped. Rest assured, we’ll all get out safely if you follow instructions, and move in a calm, orderly fashion.”
Shouts were peppered at the speaker from around the room; How soon will they get here? What if we can’t get done in time? Is it dangerous to rush the process? There were others, hard to distinguish over the din. Outside the orientation hall, people were yelling and shouting questions as well. Tyson, suddenly annoyed, gave a dismissive wave, and the transmission was cut. After about two seconds of near-silence, the stampede for the exits began.
“DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE them up in the air like that? Christ!” Liam spat his accusation at Tyson, agitated and no longer attempting to conceal it. “You scared them half to death!”
“Maybe they should be scared,” Tyson shot back. “It’s time we all started taking this situation a little more seriously.” He gazed at Liam and Alixs in turn, with a steely-eyed conviction that indicated the niceties had been formally dropped. “You two included.”
“Hang on just a minute—” Alixs started, but Tyson dismissed him as casually as he’d dismissed the pilgrims, motioning for his group to gather. “We’re going to upload now. You two keep the rest of them away from us, no interruptions, and no outsiders. You can have the facility in thirty minutes, not a second before.” He turned his back on the freevos. “Let’s go!”
IN THE CHAOS THAT FO
LLOWED, Cain held back and let the others push past, making sure he was well behind the crowds as they shoved their way up the main stairwell. He intended to be among the last to enter the processing room. Given the frantic nature of the situation, he would have no trouble with that.
The only problem with this strategy was the fact that he was now surrounded by straggler-types — more likely than not, they were nervous about what was about to happen, and wanted friends to lean on. The chatter ramped up until Cain was forced to jump in, or come off as strange. He said as little as possible, brushing it off as nerves on his part. He claimed to be feeling sick to his stomach, which set the others on edge so they stayed away. He wanted them to pay as little attention to him—and what he was up to—as possible. The less they looked in his direction the better.
But the wait was growing intolerable. It had been at least two hours since the big announcement, and the longer they waited around, the more nervous the stragglers were becoming. One of them even joked about backing out, though they all laughed this off, comforting him with talk about how wonderful the evolution would feel. How incredible it would be to cast off his physical form and be free. Such talk made Cain begin to feel genuinely ill. The unnatural excitement of these aberrations for what was being done here. The thought that he would undergo it same as them. It was enough to make him reject what food was left in his stomach. Fortunately for him, there wasn’t much there.
92.
Alixs and Liam gave the Tera-Prime contingent all the time they needed. Counting down the seconds until they could re-enter, Alixs turned to his best friend.
“You wondering why they were so adamant about going it alone?”
“Not really,” answered Liam. “They’ve been through a lot. I believe Tyson when he says they’re like a family. Don’t read too much into it.”
Alixs found the words a comfort, as always, and he relaxed. Liam was probably right. Every time they talked, Alixs realized how his mentor was so far ahead of him in terms of leadership skills. It didn’t matter that the Mind had chosen Alixs, or that he’d been the first Xenolight — all that was down to circumstance. As far as real-world abilities, Liam was the one to emulate.
They allowed the time to run out, then hurried back into the processing chamber. The countdown was audible here, even more than in the corridors, and Alixs was shocked to note they were approaching the three-hour mark. Now that they were pressed, time was flying. Though he’d had his own odd experiences with time distortion thanks to the Mind, his current incarnation was perceiving it in the usual, precise xeno fashion — making him acutely aware that they had no time to spare.
The Tera-Prime Xenolight had left the facility much as they’d found it. He didn’t notice any perceptible difference in his calibrations, though there were a couple of odd changes.
The first was a circle of items, personal belongings perhaps, that the group seemed to have left behind intentionally. It was off in the corner of the room where it wasn’t doing any harm, but it still annoyed Alixs to see it all lying there. He went to have a look, but Liam held him back with a shake. “That’s not for us,” he said. Alixs buried his sense of curiosity, along with any annoyance, and returned to his workstation.
There, the second oddity presented itself. While his instruments were set exactly where he’d left them, he noticed that there were now significantly fewer preservation units left for the rest of them. In fact, there seemed to be just enough. No extras at all.
“Why’d they do that?” Alixs asked, pointing to the inventory count on the screen. “It looks like they onboarded a bunch of empty units.”
“You were going to do that anyway, weren’t you?” Liam asked. “We weren’t planning to leave them behind, right?”
Alixs nodded. That was true. They had no intention of providing their enemies with technology to reverse-engineer. But still, he’d not shared this plan with Tyson or the others. What could their motivation have been?
“Anyway,” Liam said, “we’ve got enough to work with. They followed the count precisely enough.”
“I suppose so.” But it still bothered him. It didn’t seem to be any business of theirs. But he had no more time for personal concerns. There was a long line of xenos waiting to escape, and they had little enough time as it was.
“Send the first in, could you Liam? We’re ready to begin.”
INCHING HIS WAY UP the long staircase to the upper level, Cain noticed the fading sounds of activity, as group after group reached the top and disappeared. Knowing what was happening, it was easy to imagine walking to a gallows, complete with the optimistic notion of an afterlife to cling to. He had no interest in becoming a ghost, unlike these zealots lined up in front of him — but if that’s what it took to bring these terrorists down...
He wasn’t afraid, so much. Merely disgusted. Their entire notion of evolution was distasteful to him, a xeno of stature and one who liked the world just the way it was. Not that there was any love lost between himself and the humans, far from it. He hated them, too. But he loved himself, and he loved what he’d built up with his own limbs and his muscles and his inner strength. Giving that up was sickening. And to become a freak of nature, something loathsome and unnatural? Disgusting.
He would hate himself every time he looked in a mirror, assuming he could even stomach looking at all. But it would be worth it to see his enemies perish. And becoming a ghost did have its advantages. Immortality suited him, at least in the sense that he had always felt invincible anyway. Being even moreso wasn’t a terrible trade-off.
He reached the second to last landing, and the noise abated further. Below him, there was only silence. The entire facility was emptying out, and after the din of the past hours it was a welcome relief. Still high above, he detected one new sound, something that set his nerves on end, a stark reminder of how quickly he needed to act. Up there in the control room, the disembodied, mechanical sound of a countdown filled him with urgency. It was coming up on the final hour.
BEING THE LONE HUMAN involved in the great exodus, J.Z. had a singular view of the event, but he was destined to be an outsider to the last. He’d accepted that when he insisted on coming along, but even so, the sudden calm had left him feeling out of sorts, and a bit depressed. After the busy ramp-up, and the even busier orientation sessions, he was suddenly left with nothing to do.
The launch itself was a fully automated process. He had only to get himself away from the blast zone, then enjoy the show. And the Xenolight transformation was far too private for him to witness. He felt no resentment. He knew his role, and was happy to have helped in whatever small way he could. He’d assumed he’d be relieved for the chance to relax, but he found himself wandering the empty corridors, wishing he had something to occupy himself.
He finally resorted to taking care of a completely unnecessary chore, that of locking the place up. Might as well not make it easy when they show up, he reasoned. Going around the facility, he made sure all the exits were sealed. When he got to the main entryway, he spend some time admiring the fleet of abandoned vehicles. Campers, buses, vans, hoverplanes, a few classic gassers, and a chopper to boot. At least I’ll have my pick of rides on the way out, he kidded to himself, although in reality he would probably depart the facility in the same vehicle he’d arrived in. He already had sufficient paperwork and false credentials onboard to slip past the cops, if he timed it right.
With that in mind, he realized he had one more chore to carry out — an unpleasant one, but vitally necessary to the one friend he still had left to help. Returning to the equipment shed where he’d left Shooter, he gently picked up his battered drone and carried him to the car. Without the necessary time and tools to repair him properly, he decided the best thing to do would be to shut him down. Bring him back home for a proper refurbishment. A quick once-over indicated the self-diagnostic and repair routines were in fact running, but he was too far gone for anything more. J.Z. would have his work cut out for him, even in the proper sett
ing. He sighed, placed his old partner snuggly on the floor of the car, then turned to go back inside.
He was on his way to the big orientation hall, a place that had become familiar over the past few days. Walking past a room he’d passed without notice every time a new group entered, a curious set of scuff-marks caught his eye. J.Z. was almost sure they’d not been there before. He’d admired the military spit and polish of the floors the first time he set eyes on them, from practically that very same spot. A lot of traffic had flowed through since then, but still it struck him as out of place.
He entered the room, following the trail of scuff marks that continued across the floor and ended abruptly at the foot of a supply closet. Pulling it open, he screamed and jumped back, narrowly avoiding the body that slid out of it’s makeshift morgue and onto the floor. J.Z. gave another mortified scream. Even in his horror, though, he took note of the scuff marks, which now lined up perfectly with the shoes on the feet of the corpse. This body had been dragged in from the outside. Killed by someone who was already here.
93.
Cain stood behind the remaining handful of xenos, having finally reached sight of his goal. He half-wished he had time to poke around, see what else they were up to, but his first objective was to get himself processed. That way he could stop them, evenly matched. That fact laid to rest his last vestiges of unwillingness — the realization that as ghosts, they were immune to attack from ordinary xenos such as himself, wielding ordinary weapons. Only a ghost can fight them on their own terms. He had to become what he loathed.
“You can go ahead if you like.” The elderly xeno spoke to him in a quavering voice, shaking Cain out of his thought process.
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