DIRE : TIME (The Dire Saga Book 3)
Page 35
“Will Bryson be okay?”
“I cannot say.” Tesla sighed. “I had hoped he had found a true partner in Mister Lecourt. But now I hope his feelings were not so strong.”
I nodded.
After a solemn moment, Tesla looked to me. “I wish you well. From what I have seen, your inventions are impressive.” A thin smile twitched under his mustache. “And since many of them seemed based on my research and work, I must say this gives me some hope for the future.”
I clenched my teeth. He’d disappeared in the seventies. I could warn him. Tell him to take precautions. The temptation gnawed at me.
A hand tugged on my sleeve. “C’mon, Doc. I know the feeling.” Timetripper.
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Every damn day of my life. But whenever I give in, things just get more messed up. You just gotta bite your lip and walk away. Can’t compromise. Sometimes the only happy medium’s a drunk fortune teller, y’know?”
“And Henri?”
Timetripper looked down. “Already tried, back when things went crazy. Can't save him or too many other things break. Sorry, but... we gotta play this one out.”
I closed my eyes. “Fine. We’ll play it your way.” A sudden suspicion struck me. “Straight back, right?”
“Sort of. Someone’s set up a beacon. It’s like a couple of days past, I can take you there.”
“A beacon?”
“That’s a good sign. Also, honestly, I’m kinda still recovering now. I don’t use the beacon, we could wind up months off. Maybe years.”
I whistled. “Okay. Use the beacon. If it’s only a few days past, that’s fine. We were going to lie low anyway, so there shouldn’t be too many problems.” I glanced at my armor. “Oh, and nuke that, will you?”
It fell to bits and then to dust as he smiled, and took my hand.
BIP.
We materialized in horrific chaos.
Gunfire and explosions echoed through the backup lair, and Vorpal started, stared at me with guilty eyes. I had just enough time to realize that she was holding a stunner in her hand, before she shot me with it.
Pain exploded in my skull, and I thrashed on the ground, my limbs beyond my control. “Hey, what—” Timetripper managed, before she clubbed him down.
One of her hands was missing. What the hell had happened?
“There, it’s done. I’m done. Do it or not, I don’t care.” Vorpal tossed the stunner down, and limped out the fire exit. I heard her feet rattle on the escape, as she started down.
“Nah, I ain’t gonna kill her. Boss won’t let us do wetwork.” Cold hands picked me up, slung me over an armored shoulder.
A WEB trooper? A corpse, by the look of it, but still moving.
“He’s considerate that way.” The zombie said, taking the door that led back into the warehouse and out onto the catwalk. There was a huge hole in the wall downstairs, revealing daylight. The room was charred, most of the crates smoked and burned, and WEB troopers lay strewn about the mess. Most were groaning, a few were twitching. Still alive...
This looked like heroes. I’d bet my life on it.
Shoot, maybe I was.
“After all, it’s part of the unwritten rules. So he’s the one taking the risk of retaliation. Not that it’s going to matter with you.” The corpse clambered down the stairs. “After what you did, shit, the rules don’t apply.”
He pushed my limp form up against a crate. “Y’know, I could save him the trouble. Not sure where he got to anyway.” He pulled a sidearm, cocked it with fumbling fingers. “Stupid zombie hands. Never gets easier. So what d’ya say, Dire? Bullet in the heart, or scythe in the lung?”
“How ‘bout a bullet in the head?”
He twisted to look behind him, and Martin shot him through the faceplate. The zombie twitched, dropped me to the ground, and Martin nodded toward Minna. “Get her, quick. We gotta get out of here.” He was carrying Anya with his free arm, had her thrown over his shoulder.
Minna picked me up, and I coughed, managed to find my voice. “Glad to... see you...”
A familiar voice from behind me. “Hey. Look.” I blinked, as Timetripper came down the catwalk stairs. Wait... no, this one had a full beard, and was wearing different clothes. “I’ve been thinking, and there’s someone you need to see.”
“Shit!” Martin said, and whirled, raising the gun.
“Whoa, nope.” Timetripper waved a hand, and he froze. “Listen, it’ll just take a second, literally. I want you to see this.”
Minna turned and ran, with me bouncing on her shoulder. She got three paces before everything stopped. There was a flicker, darkness, and he was next to me, stretching a hand out to Minna’s back. I tried to yell—
Reality rippled.
The warehouse vanished, and was replaced by a far more bizarre sight.
“HELLO, DIRE,” the figure on the throne intoned, rising to greet me. “SHE’S BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS.”
CHAPTER 20: DIRE – FUTURE IMPERFECT
“I don't want to talk about it, man.”
--Timetripper, reputed hero
I twitched on Minna’s shoulder, thumped her back until she put me down. Slumping, leaning on Minna to catch my breath, I stared at future me.
The red cowl and cloak were about the same. The armor was mostly gray, with black greaves and pauldrons, more of a medieval style than I’d worn so far. It reminded me a bit of the Schwarze Ritter armor, and that bothered me.
The mask bothered me more.
Ridges cut across the forehead, lines arcing up from the nose breaking off in a rough ’V’ to either side. The end result was to make it look a bit more avian, perhaps an owl or some other bird of prey.
I did not like the look of this future Dire. But she stood, hands on her hips, waiting for me to recover.
“Yeah. So, check out the windows. Take a good look, Doc. This is what you did. This is what you become.” Timetripper put his hand on my shoulder, and I shook it off with an angry snarl. Vorpal had just betrayed me, and he was troubling me with this?
I glanced around the chamber. Circular, with what looked like shafts at either end, glowing lights tracing paths down into the darkness along carved channels. I couldn’t quite figure out what they did, and that bothered me. This sort of machinery would take more than a glance.
I also saw windows, circular glass enclosing the entirety of the room, and only sky visible in them from this angle. We were high up. A tower, perhaps? Seemed likely. It took me a few seconds to get my legs working properly, as I tottered over and recovered from the residual effects of the stunner.
I looked down upon horror.
Banners emblazoned with my mask flew over a crumbling city. Robots with my mask sitting upon their face marched lockstep out of blazing factories, and robots with guns herded shackled people, families and individuals, into squat, ugly-looking buildings. Cameras stood on poles everywhere, keeping a ceaseless watch on the few free humans that slunk along deserted streets. From this angle I had a good view of the city below, and I choked down anger as I saw a pair of robots accost a spray-can wielding child in a back alley. A flare of energy, and the child stretched out flat, dead or unconscious.
My power analyzed the factories, and told me that this was war. This was conquest, at its most raw and pure. Far off, in what appeared to be either an airfield or a starport, dropships lifted every ten seconds, ferrying more of my robots into the stratosphere.
I turned, to regard the figure on the throne. She put her hands behind her back, and studied me with hollow eye sockets.
“Why?” I whispered.
Timetripper leaned on the window next to me, and sighed. “That’s my question. You were there, man. You saw fascism at its ugliest. So why would you break so bad? Hell, you punched out Hitler.”
“Actually Unstoppable did. Dire just shot him.”
“OH, IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED THIS TIME AROUND?” Future me tilted her head. “INTERESTING.”
“Sh
ut up.” I pointed at her. “She’ll get to you in a minute.” I swung the finger around to point at Timetripper, and he flinched. “Why here? Why now?”
“I can’t go past, man. She’s got some quantum shit in the way that jams me. Whenever I try, I end up here and now. I’ve had like two hundred variations on the same conversation with her, and she just does that ‘Muahahah’ thing and rubs her hands together.”
“SO HE’S SHOWING YOU DIRE AT HER WORST, IN THE HOPES THAT YOU WILL TURN FROM THIS COURSE. IN WHICH CASE DIRE AS SHE KNOWS HERSELF WILL CEASE TO EXIST.”
Minna moved up next to me, took my hand, and glared at Future Me. “Leave her alone.”
“HAVEN’T DONE A THING YET.”
“Yet.” I muttered, as I studied the windows again, tracing the streets and alleys of the city. Was this Icon City? Possible. No green space anywhere, and the terrain was mostly flat, but that could be the result of some hardcore urban renewal. With a sick feeling, I saw a youth creep into an alley. He failed to notice the robots following him, as he started to spray paint on the wall, and—
Wait a minute.
Same clothes, same skin color, same sequence of events. I’d seen this happen just a minute ago.
I knew. I knew and I laughed, as I thumped the window, leaning against it as the fatigue of the last few hours caught up to me.
“Whoa. Uh, Doc? Bad trip?” Timetripper squatted down next to me as I slumped down the wall, landed with a bump on my bottom, and held my sides as I giggled. Minna squatted down too, still glaring at Future Me.
“Kayfabe,” I whispered. “It’s all kayfabe.”
“Say what now?”
“BINGO! YOU WIN THE PRIZE!” Future Me hopped back in her throne, kicked her feet up on one side, and leaned on one elbow.
“I miss something?” Timetripper stood up, and looked between us like we’d gone mad.
“They’re not windows. They’re screens. And those aren’t real images on the screens, it’s all computer generated images. You’ve been watching a movie, not seeing the world as it truly is.”
His jaw dropped open, as his fingers clenched and unclenched. “What the fuck?”
“FINALLY, HE GETS IT!”
“All this time... all this bragging you did over enslaving America... and the purges, and all that shit?”
“MADE IT ALL UP. SHE’S AS FASCIST AS THE AVERAGE GOLDFISH.” She mimed flapping gills at the side of her neck with her gauntlets, and I tucked my head between my knees and howled more laughter.
“Why? Just... why?” He looked so lost.
I managed to seize control of myself, finally, and grinned. “To get Dire here, obviously.”
“AND MINNA TOO. NECESSARY, THAT.”
“Me? Why?”
“ALL IN GOOD TIME. SO YES, TIMETRIPPER, THIS HAS BEEN A LONG-TERM PLAN FINALLY COME TO FRUITION.”
“Fuck that!” Timetripper yelled, and grabbed my arm.
I glared at him. He closed his eyes, and scrunched his face up. After a second, it unscrunched. “What the fuck, man?”
“SHE’S BLOCKING YOUR POWERS. YOU’RE GOING NOWHERE TRIPPER. SO COMMANDS DIRE!”
“Actually, she’s a little upset about this too.” I yanked my arm free and got to my feet. “Technically, by means of this cunning ruse, you’re the one who set Timetripper on Dire.”
“NECESSARY, SORRY. NEEDED HIM INTERFERING WITH THE TIMELINE EARLIER THAN HE DID IN MINE.”
“That’s been no end of trouble.”
“BUT NOTHING YOU COULDN'T HANDLE! YOU’RE DIRE!” She spread her arms, and walked down the dais toward me. “SHE WOULD NOT HAVE SET SUCH A POWERFUL FOE ON SOMEONE WHO COULDN’T HANDLE IT.”
I bared my teeth. “Gee, thanks.” Future Me was an asshole. Minna put her hand on my shoulder, and I appreciated the support.
“IF THERE’D BEEN ANY OTHER WAY...” Future Me stopped ten feet away. “WE SCREWED UP. MADE SOME PRETTY BAD MISTAKES. THIS IS A SECOND CHANCE TO FIX THINGS.”
“Oh?” I gestured at the screens. “Are they actually real?”
“OF COURSE NOT. BUT THE SITUATION’S PRETTY BAD. THE WORLD’S IN TROUBLE, AND SHE MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO WIN THIS ONE AT THIS POINT. THERE ARE A FEW LAST THINGS YOU NEED TO DO, TO GIVE US A FIGHTING CHANCE.”
“Like what?”
She turned her mask to Timetripper. “YOU, OUT.”
“What?”
“SHE’S SHUT DOWN THE TEMPORAL JAMMER. YOU’VE SERVED YOUR PURPOSE, AND DIRE WILL SEND THESE TWO HOME LATER. NOW GO, BECAUSE YOU DON’T NEED TO HEAR THIS.”
He folded his arms. “Well what if I want to stay?”
BLAM!
Before I could flinch, she blew him into a screen with an explosion of golden light. He hit the shatterproof glass, bounced off, and yelled in alarm.
“THAT WASN’T A REQUEST. OUT.”
“Jesus!” he yelled, and held up a hand. “What the fuck, man! You trick me, and use me, and now you’re kicking me out? I’m like some kind of fucking pawn in your sick little head games?”
“HMHMHMHM. HAHAHAHHHAHA!”
Damn, that laugh sounded awesome. Did I really sound like that? I hoped so.
Future Me pointed a hand at her metal-shod chest. “VILLAIN, REMEMBER?”
Timetripper groaned, and faded, raising his middle fingers in a feeble act of defiance, flipping her off as he went.
“STILL AN IDIOT. HE GETS A BIT BETTER AS HE AGES. NOT BY MUCH, MIND YOU.”
I folded my arms. “All right. How did we fuck up?”
“WELL, SIMPLY PUT... YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t you just plead innocence on that whole fascism thing?”
“NO, IT’S COOL. YOU CAN BE A DICTATOR WITHOUT BEING A FASCIST. AIN’T EASY, BUT IT’S DOABLE. ESPECIALLY SINCE WE WON'T NEED TO DO IT FOREVER.” She rubbed the back of her cowl. “MIND YOU, A LOT OF PEOPLE AREN’T GOING TO SEE IT THAT WAY.”
“Not buying it.” I paced away from her, spun back on my heel, and returned. “It’s an inefficient and foolish form of government, that guarantees atrocities, unrest, waste, and corruption. Not that you don’t get a good amount of that with democracy or the various other types, but it’s still not a good path.”
“IT’S BETTER THAN THE ONE SHE TOOK.” She tapped her chest.
“Which is what, now?”
“NO. THERE ARE THINGS SHE CAN’T TELL YOU. LONG STORY SHORT, THINGS WENT DOWNHILL FAST. THE WORLD’S IN A RIGHT PROPER MESS. IF YOU’D GONE FOR CONQUEST AT THE START, MORE PEOPLE WOULD HAVE SURVIVED—” She broke off, straightening up. “—IT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE LESSER EVIL.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Survived what? You don’t drop a conversational bomb like that and not expect some fallout! What happened?”
“WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAILS, YOU KNOW ALL THOSE BILLIONS OF PEOPLE WE USED TO HAVE ON THIS PLANET?”
“How many are we down to? How many did we lose?”
“LET’S JUST SAY WE’RE DOWN A FEW ZEROES.”
Icy cold down my spine. “Please tell her you’re kidding.”
“NO.”
I turned my back, paced over to one of the screens, and ran my hand down it. “Did we do it? Is it our fault?” My voice wavered, and I cursed its weakness.
“NO. BUT IF WE HAD GONE FOR CONQUEST, TAKEN THINGS A BIT MORE SERIOUSLY FROM THE BEGINNING...” She sighed, the metallic rattle echoing around the chamber. “STILL TOO MANY VARIABLES TO SAY. BUT WE WOULD BE IN A BETTER POSITION. MORE WOULD BE ALIVE. AND WE MIGHT JUST HAVE A SHOT AT WINNING.”
“It’s an extinction event, then.”
She shifted.
I closed my eyes. “Goddamn it.”
“IT’S AVERTABLE. JUST REMEMBER WHAT SHE SAID.”
“Tell her.”
“NO.”
“Then what use are you!” I whirled on her, roaring, feeling the blood rush to my face. “What sort of shitty plan is this, taunting her with information, withholding the secrets she needs to save the goddamn world!” I stalked forward
, glaring up at her mask, thrusting my finger in her face. “No better than the goddamn heroes!”
Her eyes flared blue. Not red like my own preferences, but blue.
“SHE CAN’T TELL YOU. BUT SHE WILL TELL MINNA.”
“What?” Minna’s usual stoic facade cracked, puzzlement showing on her face. “Why?”
“AFTER YOUR DIRE RETURNS TO FIX ONE LAST PIECE OF BUSINESS, AND EVENTS TAKE THEIR MOST COPACETIC COURSE, DIRE—” she rapped her knuckles on her chest, “—WILL BRIEF YOU ON THE FULL FACTS OF THE SITUATION. YOU HAVE A ROLE TO PLAY IN THIS TOO, AND IT’S A HARD ONE.”
“Like hell! Manipulate Timetripper, fine, he’s a fool. Withhold information from your past self, okay, that just means you’re an asshole. But you do not manipulate or browbeat her friends. You should know better than that. Have you truly fallen so far?”
Future Me tapped her chest. “SHE WAS DIRE'S FRIEND TOO.”
I caught myself before I could spew out the next angry rant. Something in the way she said that, even through the voice modulation, indicated sorrow. I shot a glance over to Minna, but she hadn’t caught it.
“Ah,” I said, as the realization crashed down.
She wasn’t doing this whole plan for my benefit.
She was trying to save everyone else.
Almost a year ago, she’d sent a time machine back with older, somewhat-wiser Timetripper, and it had enabled me to save Minna from literally certain death.
She wouldn’t have done that, if only to manipulate or use her now.
“She’s sorry,” I muttered. “Shouldn’t have said that.”
Future Me nodded. “ACCEPTED. IN RETURN, HAVE SOME GIFTS. YOU’LL NEED THEM.” She gestured, and a pillar rose from the center of the floor. On it, metal glistened.
I moved over, and smiled to see the items on the pedestal. A pocket-sized forcefield generator, much like the one I’d started my career with. And an old, beaten-up, well-worn 1911 Colt Army Pistol. A fully-loaded magazine rested next to it, oiled and ready to use.
And between the generator and the gun, my mask. Well, one of them, anyway. I ran my fingers down it, feeling the familiar curves and smoothness.