by E. R. Torre
“It had you?”
“For a moment.”
Nox closed her eyes. Her body felt like it was floating in a sea and buffeted by gentle waves.
“It knows I’m back in the city,” Nox said. “It suspects you’re with me.”
“What is it saying?”
“It…it’s telling me to go to the west side. There’s a building there…”
“What building?”
“I don’t know. I see it in my mind, a rectangular box. Old stone, weathered. I’m not…familiar with it. Strange…”
Nox shook her head.
“It’s at the corner of James and 17th. I’ve passed through that area hundreds of times. I know the street inside and out. Yet I’ve never this building before. How is that possible?”
“Does it have a name?” Sgt. Delmont asked.
“No…yes.”
“Which is it?”
“The building doesn’t have a name, but it has a basement. To get to the basement, you have to go through a rusted vault door. I’ve seen that door before…there’s a word painted on it. You can barely make it out. They want me to see what lies beyond that door.”
Nox felt a shiver.
“You know about the place, don’t you?” Nox asked General Spradlin. “You know what’s written on that door.”
“Yes I do,” General Spradlin said. “Oscuro.”
31
It took another half hour to reach 17th Avenue.
The further they were from the military base, the worse Nox felt. Her body temperature rose and then dropped. She started to sweat before feeling a series of chills. The whispers in her head grew louder, more insistent. Nox rubbed her hands and tried to keep them from overwhelming her.
“We’re nearly there,” General Spradlin said.
They entered the Palace district, a low level of the Big City known for having a few sickly trees along its sidewalks. Like most everything else in the Big City, they were dying. Nox stared out the transport’s window. She recognized a café where at one time not long ago she was approached by representatives of the Diamond Shipping Corp. They hired her to check into a staff member they feared was being blackmailed. A few blocks away from that location she spent a long, rainy night conducting surveillance on an illegal arms dealer. To her north she spotted the Grotto Restaurant. In the alley behind it, one of her most trusted contacts was stabbed to death. Nox never found who committed that crime or if her contact’s death was related to a case she was working on at the time. Now, some three years later, the contact and the case were mostly forgotten. A life gone, its imprint on the world negligible.
More memories flooded in. Nox’s professional career consisted of one dirty job after the other. Success meant there was enough money to pay the bills and little else. Despite the brutal nature of the business and the temptation to earn more, Nox kept her honor. She was a Mechanic while everyone else became an Independent. Unlike her, the Independents’ loyalties were based solely on how much they made on each job. They were, to her eyes, over-glorified mercenaries and it was insulting to her that many viewed them as the next generation Mechanics.
In spite of all that, Nox knew her hands were far from clean. At least she slept easier knowing whatever job she took on and whatever task she was hired to do, she followed through and never, ever betrayed her employers…unless they betrayed her first.
Nox kept her eyes street level, not daring to look up. The voices in her head urged her to do so. For a while she fought them, until curiosity got the best of her.
Her eyes moved from street level to the second floor of the buildings around her, then up some more. Because of ancient, outdated regulations, the buildings in this area could extend no more than five stories. All but one did.
She saw it now, towering over the other buildings. It looked exactly as she imaged: a ruggedly square building as old as the Big City itself. It was dark brown and the years and elements had worn her surface until she was almost black. She sported neither identification nor signs.
Nox was amazed to see this structure. Amazed and more than a little scared.
For she passed this area hundreds of times before and not once –not once– did she notice this phantom building. An air of menace swirled around it, making it as forbidding as a fairy tale sorcerer’s dark castle.
“By the Gods,” she whispered.
The primary military transport vehicle came to a stop before the building’s entrance.
The remaining two vehicles parked at either ends of the block. The soldiers within exited and took up defensive positions. When they were in place, a member of each party waved to the other.
The General acknowledged this with a wave of his own.
“What now, sir?” Sgt. Delmont asked.
General Spradlin noted the vacant look in Nox’s eyes.
“Come with us,” he told Sgt. Delmont. “The rest of you, take up positions. Watch our backs.”
The soldiers grabbed their gear and dismounted. When they were out, General Spradlin addressed Nox and said:
“Ready?”
It took considerable effort for her to answer.
“It’s not whispering anymore,” she said. “It’s yelling.”
General Spradlin put his hand on Nox’s shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he said.
General Spradlin, Sgt. Delmont, and Nox walked to the building’s entrance.
The glass and metal doors were oversized and level with the sidewalk and, like the building, stained with age and wear. It looked as if the building was abandoned a very long time ago. The size of the entrance indicated it was designed to allow large vehicles inside. Other than that, there was nothing to indicate the building’s purpose.
Nox’s breathing grew ragged.
“Are the child soldiers here?” General Spradlin asked.
“No,” Nox replied. “They know we’re near. They…they’ll be here soon.”
“Then we better make this fast,” General Spradlin said. “Ready to go inside?”
“Yes.”
General Spradlin drew a small flashlight from his belt. He motioned to Sgt. Delmont and the soldier walked to the doors. Delmont drew his automatic and was about to use it on the rusty chains that locked the entry door. He put the automatic away and pulled them. The chains fell to the ground. The locks were sliced.
“Looks like they’ve already been here,” Delmont said. He swung the door open.
“After you,” General Spradlin told Nox.
Nox walked into the building.
General Spradlin remained a few steps behind. When Nox was far enough away, he extended his right hand. Sgt. Delmont shook it.
“I’ll see to everything,” Sgt. Delmont said.
“Thank you.”
Sgt. Delmont squeezed General Spradlin’s hand and didn’t want to let go. After a few seconds, he reluctantly did. Without saying another word, Sgt. Delmont returned to the transport vehicle.
General Spradlin’s attention was back on Nox. He walked into the building. A musty smell permeated the area. He aimed his flashlight around the lobby. The light revealed a vast empty rectangular space. A sign indicated there were stairs beyond a door on the east side of the lobby entrance. A pair of oversized elevator doors lay to that door’s right. Otherwise, the lobby was completely empty.
Nox stood in the far corner of the lobby and in front of a door leading to the building’s stairs. Her back was to the General.
“No need to waste any more time,” she said as he approached. “Let’s go.”
General Spradlin nodded. He stepped past Nox. The Mechanic’s face was bone white and her eyes a deep red. They gleamed in the darkness. General Spradlin opened the door before her, revealing the very wide staircase. Nox took to the stairs, her walk as light as air and her movements guided by invisible currents.
“Down,” Nox said.
“Yes,” General Spradlin replied.
Nox moved quickly.
“Wait,” Ge
neral Spradlin said. Unlike her, he moved cautiously, examining the steps and making sure his way was clear.
Nox disappeared into the darkness.
General Spradlin waved his flashlight and tried to keep his eye on her. He couldn’t. He took a moment to look back at the entrance of the building and the street beyond. His soldiers were converging around the transport. They quickly entered the vehicle until all but Sgt. Delmont remained outside. He took one last look at the building before joining his fellow soldiers. The vehicle’s engine came alive. The transport moved away.
“Good luck,” General Spradlin muttered.
The General pulled his revolver out with his free hand and walked down the stairs after Nox.
The stairs spiraled down five flights before hitting bottom. General Spradlin found Nox there. She stood before a large metal vault door. It was exactly as she described it to the General. It was exactly as she dreamed it back in the hospital.
Nox’s hands ran over the door’s massive frame, tracing the barely visible white letters written on it, spelling out a single word.
OSCURO.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been here,” Nox said.
“Yes,” General Spradlin replied.
General Spradlin kept the flashlight on the door and the revolver aimed in Nox’s general direction. The two noted the door’s massive lock was melted.
“They’ve been down here,” Nox said.
“Yes they have,” General Spradlin said. “Go on.”
Despite the door’s massive size, it took Nox little effort to swing it open.
The room beyond the metal door was enormous and stretched out for hundreds of feet. Faint lights from reflective paint offered hints to its full size. General Spradlin shone the flashlight on a dusty desk close to the room’s entrance. Long unused computer monitors lined the counter and the walls before them.
The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust that was marred by a series of footprints. General Spradlin and Nox followed them, penetrating deeper and deeper into the darkness.
At the end of the room was an open door. Nox hurriedly stepped past it and General Spradlin followed. Beyond the door was a smaller, though still impressively large, room. A thick glass panel divided the room in half. Beyond the glass panel was a natal ward. Tiny beds that once held newborns were lined in rows. The mattresses and sheets, those that remained, were dark with age and mold.
“Nox?” General Spradlin said. She was swallowed within the room’s shadows. His flashlight flickered around, trying to find her. “Nox?”
General Spradlin walked closer to the glass. He peered at the natal ward and the disheveled beds. His flashlight shone through the glass, illuminating a pair of tiny pink socks. They too were dusty and yellow with age. General Spradlin clenched his jaw. He looked up, and caught the reflection of movement on the glass wall.
General Spradlin spun around and raised his arms. His flashlight was battered from his hand. The revolver in his other hand was simultaneously pulled free. In less than a second, he felt its barrel pressed hard against his chin.
“Don’t move,” Nox said.
She held the weapon and, for several seconds, said nothing more. General Spradlin, likewise, didn’t talk. Nox’s face was a ghostly white. When she next spoke, it was a whisper.
“This is where it started.”
General Spradlin did not reply. He kept still, lest any movement should provoke the Mechanic.
“This is where it started!” Nox yelled.
“Yes.”
Nox released the General. She kept the revolver pointed at him as she picked up his flashlight from the floor.
“Let’s see what else there is,” she said.
They walked back to the opposite end of the room and found another door. Nox opened it and pushed the General inside. Her breathing was heavy, her fury building. General Spradlin let her take him wherever she wanted to go.
This new room held a series of tables filled with large empty glass tubes. Each tube was identical, measuring three feet by four. They were displayed in horizontal rows, as if meant to show off plants. Black, red, and gray wires dangled within these tubes. At each of their bases was an ancient computer system and monitor.
“Looks familiar,” Nox said.
These tubes were smaller versions of the glass casket Nox found herself in when she was transported by the General from the Hospital to the military base.
Nox pushed General Spradlin to the tube closest to them. She pressed her hand flat against its surface.
“This is where we were given our first lessons,” Nox said. “This is where they started teaching me how to be a soldier.”
“Why are we here?” General Spradlin asked.
“Landon and the others found this place. They planned to…to use it with the children. But there was…there was too much missing. Too much of the equipment was incomplete…broken. They wanted to burn this place to the ground. Instead they left it, so that we may witness its destruction.”
“Why?”
“Because death and destruction is their language. It’s what they –we– were taught.”
Nox eyed the computer equipment and monitors below the glass tubes.
“Why do they want to kill you so badly, General?” she asked. “You were the voice of control. You were involved in the child soldier program. Wouldn’t they want you at their side? Why do they hate you so?”
Nox pressed the revolver hard against General Spradlin’s chin.
“They’ve destroyed civilization in a matter of days,” she said. “They scare the shit out of everyone, including me. They fear no one. No one but you.”
Nox lowered her revolver.
The monitor under the glass tube they stood beside flickered on. A low white light filled its screen. The other monitors, every one of them in the room, also came on. Their lights stretched for what seemed like miles, disappearing into the far distance. One monitor for each child soldier, several thousand in all.
Nox stared at the monitor before her. On it appeared security camera footage. A single man with an ashen face sat in a chair at the head of a large table in a conference room. He appeared to be waiting for others to arrive.
“What…?”
Nox immediately recognized the man on the monitor. It was David Lemner. The Demon. The man who created the passkey she used to infiltrate the Global Computer Network a lifetime before. The man who created the program that unleashed this hell on Earth.
“Looks like the show’s about to begin.”
The frozen image on the monitor moved. David Lemner adjusted his wire frame glasses. He looked shaken. A voice came from the other side of the room, just below the security camera.
“I know you’re scared,” someone said.
The voice was muffled and cracked as the man spoke. He sounded like he was in quite a bit of pain. Despite this, Nox recognized who was speaking to David Lemner.
It was General Spradlin.
32
David Lemner remained at his seat at the head of a table. Opposite him now sat General Spradlin. Half his face and his right arm were covered with fresh dressings. Blood seeped from below the gauze.
The door leading into the conference room opened and a group of four people, three men and one woman, entered the room. They took their seats around the table.
“Why are we here?” asked the only female in the group of. She was in her mid-fifties and retained an energetic, youthful glow. She was dressed in an expensive white suit that was all the rage two decades before. At that time, her political career was hot and her name was on everyone’s mouth. Nox knew her, if only through historical accounts.
“Jennifer Alberts,” Nox said.
The woman on the screen leaned forward.
“If this is about what happened at McArthur…” Jennifer Alberts said.
Another of the people seated at the table, a middle aged and graying man, interrupted her. His voice was saturated with sarcasm.
“Of course it isn’t,” he said. “Why bring such a distinguished panel like this together if not to talk about the Arabian War? Somehow, I don’t believe General Spradlin would bring us here to show off his most recent act of valor.”
“You talk very lightly about the deaths of sixty nine people,” General Spradlin said. His tone was blunt, charged. He dared the others to talk. The words had their intended effect.
“Had Joshua Landon escaped, there’s no telling how many more would have died.”
General Spradlin stiffly moved in his chair. The pain from his injuries was evident even in the grainy footage.
“What happened at the Airport is bound to happen again,” he said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“I can manage the child soldiers,” David Lemner countered. “What happened was a tragedy…but it wasn’t my fault. It was a glitch, a programming error. I can find it and fix it and—”
“It wasn’t an error,” General Spradlin said. “It was a warning. A sign of things to come.”
“I think we can all agree what happened in the airport was nothing short of a disaster,” Jennifer Alberts said. “However, you can’t deny the child soldier program is working well beyond our expectations.”
The other heads around the table nodded in agreement.
“We have the Arabian nationalists on the run and they haven’t even guessed what’s hitting them,” she continued. “If we didn’t need the child soldiers so damn badly, I’d be the first to suggest we pause the program and allow David the time to fix whatever fuck up he’s surely responsible for.”
“You provided the bodies,” David Lemner shot back. “Maybe you and the monster you’re hiding in that basement of yours should have screened them a little better before sending them to me.”
Jennifer Alberts offered the scrawny man a cold smile.
“It’s not worth arguing, dear,” Jennifer Alberts said. “The program works, for the most part. You’ll just have to fix whatever is wrong on the fly.”
“No,” General Spradlin said. “We’re not fixing anything. As of right now, it’s finished.”
