Six Strings to Save the World

by Michael McSherry

  Expecting the worst of it to pass as Lydia’s Rez washes away, I curl up with the Gibson held tightly against my chest. There’s a new rumbling and the ground below me lurches violently sideways. A crack leaps through the concrete immediately below me, snaking its way from one end of the garage to the other. With a low roar, the side of the garage I first slammed through begins to collapse. Rubber squeals as the ground slopes under my feet, cars throughout the garage shifting and sliding.

  The whole garage is coming down.

  I spin and propel myself toward the other end of the garage. This level opens outside with only a bit of chain link blocking me. With a pitch-bending power chord, I fly parallel with the ground, bursting through the chain links as the remainder of the garage goes down behind me. I turn to glance back as I emerge out over the street outside and catch a glimpse of Sola, silhouetted against a cloud of dust as she flares with a burst of red Rez.

  She doesn’t make it out and I’m left looking at… rubble.

  People are screaming in the streets below, fleeing the destruction.

  People.

  People!

  Were there people in the garage?

  In the sky overhead, I can see Lydia and Tori trading blows with Mifa and Tidah, the sky flaring with brilliant auroras every time their Rez collides. A column of fire erupts up into the sky from somewhere nearby as Dorian lances a bolt of his Rez at Dore, who darts from side to side while raining red Rez down from the sky toward the ground. It feels like my feet are nailed to the ground. All I can hear are people screaming.

  Take a step.

  Do something, you idiot!

  My right foot comes up from the ground and I’m moving back into the rubble. There’s a car near the edge of the rubble, stuck beneath the automatic arm of a gate guard with a massive slab of concrete crushing the rear end of the vehicle. The roof is halfway caved in, but through the spiderweb cracks of the windshield, I can see movement inside.

  “Hold on!” I yell. “Just hold on!”

  There’s a man’s voice coming from within, but I can’t understand what he’s saying. I slide beside the car with the Gibson strapped to my back, hunkering down so I can fit underneath the concrete slab. I brace my shoulders against the concrete and take a deep breath. There’s electricity crawling along my fingertips, sparking between them. All I can do is focus on the buzz of Rez passing through me. I push as hard as I can.

  Concrete slides against concrete, metal groans as support beams flex. The slab on my shoulders moves slightly. My legs burn like they’re on fire. I exhale with explosive force, and a wave of electric Rez ripples outward from my feet, tendrils of electricity sending bits of debris skittering away across the ground. I lift harder, taking another breath.

  The concrete comes up slowly. Terribly slowly. But it goes up, all the same. The roof of the car comes free as I straighten my legs. I can hear a thumping from inside of the car, and a moment later the crushed windshield pops free, propelled onto the hood of the ruined car.

  A terrified looking businessman scrambles out onto the hood of the car a moment later. He looks back at me with wide eyes. A gash on his head bleeding freely, but he looks unharmed otherwise. He stumbles out into the street as my legs begin to tremble. I lurch sideways, letting the concrete slab drop back to the ground in a shower of dust.

  He can’t be the only one. And I’m right. I find two more occupied cars trapped in the rubble near the exits. I get a family of three to safety by dragging their car out from underneath a collapsed support beam. I get a young couple out of the second car by ripping crumpled car doors away from the frame. After that, I find a security guard with a broken arm trapped in his overturned booth, but I’m able to work him free in a matter of seconds. Lastly, there’s a group of five teenagers cowering in a halfway collapsed stairwell. I kick through the rubble, carving a way out for them.

  It’s the best I can do. It’s all I can do. I’m about to launch back up into the sky to rejoin the fight when I see a small pile of rubble moving near the edge of the wreckage. I rush over to investigate, whipping away hundred-pound chunks of concrete like they’re wet tissues. A hand snakes out of the concrete, seizing upon my wrist and squeezing. Painfully.

  Instinctively, I leap backward. The hand comes with me for a few inches before relinquishing its grip. I’m left looking down at Sola, clutching her turntable against her chest, her other hand still stretching out toward me. Her eyes aren’t glowing. They aren’t even tracking me. Her breath is coming in shallow, fast puffs.

  There’s a large block of concrete resting on her abdomen. A thick length of rebar runs through it, and I grimace as I trace the bar down. It’s speared through her stomach, jutting out her back, down into the rubble underneath her. Gelcircuitry pops, fizzling and oozing in the wound, and I can see what looks like metallic-looking bone. But there’s blood, too. A lot of it.

  I clutch my Gibson a little bit tighter and see Sola’s eyes widen slightly, her pupils dilating as she focuses on the Resonator in my hand. She tries to lift her turntable from her side to point but her arm just trembles. Then she turns her eyes to me.

  “Go ahead,” she says.

  “I’m not going to execute you,” I say, disgustedly.

  “Are you working for the Composers or not? They are killers by nature.” Sola’s lips peel back in unmistakable disdain. “That’s why the Controller General needs the Key.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  A flash of light overhead lights up the street like it’s noon. The light is followed by a wave of heat that feels like somebody opened an oven overhead and a bass-heavy roar of an explosion that sends my teeth chattering. I glance up in time to see Dorian in the sky, outlined momentarily against a massive fireball half a mile farther up in the sky. We’re illuminated by the light of a hellish red moon for a moment. As the fireball fades, I can see something falling down, still smoldering and trailing smoke.

  “Dore,” I hear Sola breathe, and when I look at her, she’s got tears running down her cheek.

  I step forward and Sola tenses again. “Do it!” she screams at me.

  With two hands on the cinder block and a foot braced on a piece of concrete beside Sola, I wrench the block backward. The rebar spear slides backward out of Sola’s abdomen, relinquishing with a wet sucking noise. She screams, loudly, that same strained scream that lingers somewhere between human and machine. I’m left looking down at a mess of blood and gelcircuitry. Sola’s breath comes a bit easier.

  “I’m not an executioner,” I repeat to her.

  Another explosion lights up the sky overhead as Dorian joins the fight with Lydia, Tori, Mifa, and Tidah. In a blur of yellow, I see the Carnegie pass by, barrel-rolling as three Synthesizer aircraft hurtle after the ship, launching dark red Rez missiles after the Composer ship. I take a deep breath and strum a chord, launching off the ground and upward.

  As I ascend, I hear a quick succession of sharp pops, like three fast rimshots. I feel something like ant-bites on my side and turn around to find two French policemen looking up at me, handguns trained right at me.

  “Don’t shoot me!” I yell at them, so they shoot me ten more times. I shield my face and grit my teeth through the bullet-pinches across my chest. “Don’t shoot me!” I say again. “Get everybody out of here!” I wave my hand and point to try and get the point across. There are sirens, and I can see lights coming down the street. Somewhere nearby I can hear the distant thumping of helicopter blades. I continue up to Tori and the others.

  Mifa launches herself bodily at Tori. The two collide and rocket east, grappling as they move. I give chase, laying on as much speed as I can. Tori and Mifa’s Rez mixes in a stream of red and white that I draft on as I go, gaining on them. But not fast enough. With a violent curve, Tori and Mifa lurch down toward the ground into a park, hitting dirt hard. They plow a furrow into the ground twenty yards long as panicked Parisians run away. I glance up and see that we’re near the base of the Eiffel Tower. />
  The novelty of that is lost on me.

  I slide to a halt, the Gibson held tightly in my hands. Through the cloud of settling dirt, I see one figure emerging. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s Tori climbing from the crater, her violin and bow held at her side. Mifa is left in the crater behind her, motionless. Tori gives me a grim nod and wipes some blood from her face.

  Then Tori’s eyes widen in surprise.

  Something hits me in the back of the head, sending me to the ground. A moment later, I feel my guitar being ripped from my side.

  * * * * *

  “Where is the Key?” Alpha’s voice is followed by the sharp pain of a foot pressing down on my throat. It’s hard to breathe, and everything hurts. Alpha hurls my Gibson ten feet to the side, well out of my reach. I can see Tori farther down the field, eyes wide, violin trained at the ready.

  Blurs of red and blue flash down from overhead, cutting the sky in half. Dorian and Lydia hit the ground in front of Tori so hard I can feel it in my bones fifty yards away. Rez erupts from the impact crater, charring the ground around Dorian five feet in every direction. Lydia turns back and goes to Tori, placing a hand on her shoulder and saying something I can’t hear.

  But Dorian’s eyes remain on Alpha. He starts to walk toward us, flames dancing over his entire body. With every step he takes, the grass around his feet erupts into flame, leaving each footstep behind him ablaze. He’s got his bass in one hand, and he’s carrying something in his other hand. It takes a few more steps before I realize what it is: Tidah’s gore-smeared turntable, still dripping with gelcircuitry.

  “Remain perfectly still, Mr. Young.” Alpha is looking down at me now, her rainbow fringe of hair glittering in the dim park lights. She’s got her own turntable Resonator pointed right at my face. I’m not certain, but she almost sounds afraid. She turns to meet Dorian. “Stop right now or I will kill him.”

  Defiant, Dorian takes two more steps forward. The foot on my throat pushes down farther and I let out a gurgling sound as the air stops coming. Begrudgingly, Dorian stops, and Alpha’s foot lets up just enough for me to draw a breath. But I do have to fight for it.

  “Do you enjoy killing kids?” Dorian growls.

  “Who are you to speak, with your past?” Alpha demands. “Give me the Key. Now.”

  Dorian stares quietly at Alpha before spitting on the ground. “We don’t negotiate with Synthesizers.”

  “History is written in the blood of the Composers’ failed negotiations.” The foot presses down again, the pain forcing a wheezing scream from me.

  “I swear, I will cut you apart layer by layer,” Tori growls, tensing angrily.

  The pressure on my neck increases and I convulse as I try to take a breath but I can’t. Alpha holds her foot there for several more painful seconds, her Resonator warming to a dull red glow. “You have a choice, Captain,” Alpha says to Dorian, ignoring Tori. “You know I will do it, if need be. It gives me no pause.”

  “He doesn’t have it!” a familiar voice calls from outside my field of vision. Alpha’s heel lets up a bit, enough for me to turn my head slightly, and I see Dex standing there, a golden vial held in his hand.

  “Dex!” Lydia hisses at him. “Get out of here right now.”

  “Let him go,” Dex commands Alpha.

  “Do you know the importance of what you hold?” Alpha asks Dex.

  “A way into a Prima Maestri vault, right?” Dex raises a questioning eyebrow. “I’m sure there’s some sort of superweapon inside. Significant, world-ending destructive potential and all that.”

  “Your ignorance is obvious.” Alpha’s hand twitches over her Resonator. “Give me the Key, or I will kill Mr. Young.”

  “Don’t do it, Dex,” Tori says. Her voice is pained, and when I look back to her, she refuses to meet my eyes. “You can’t give her that.”

  “Your father’s training speaks through you,” Alpha hisses at Tori. “Your mother would be proud.”

  “Shut up!”

  There’s a thundering roar overhead, and I can see sleek shapes cutting their way through the sky, visible only by the way they blot out the stars behind them. The roar of jet engines is unmistakable though. It must be some sort of military response, planes doing a first pass overhead. Then I catch a glimpse of another figure slicing through the air, much faster and closer to the ground, bright yellow and trailing a wave of Rez behind it: the Carnegie. The ship comes barreling in, fully visible with weapons aglow. It settles onto the grass behind Tori and the others, turrets trained on Alpha.

  “Give it up,” Dorian says. “You’re outgunned.”

  “You’re arrogant,” Alpha retorts. A low rumbling on the other side of the field announces the hastened arrival of three Autotuner aircraft and two carriers hurtling toward us. They decelerate a few feet short of Alpha and me, dropping speed so fast that I’m hit with a wave of wind as their Rez cannons warm to a deep red glow. The carriers reassemble themselves into two hulking goliaths, training their cannons on Dorian and Lydia.

  Alpha turns to Dex. “Whether you understand or not, what you hold will help us end this war. All wars. For all time.”

  “Well that doesn’t sound menacing at all,” Dex huffs, turning the vial over in his hand.

  “Don’t do it,” Tori repeats.

  Dex turns on her angrily. “It’s Caleb! Are you listening to yourself?”

  “Dex, look at me.” Dorian’s voice cuts in flat and calm. “This is it. This is war.” He jabs a finger in Alpha’s direction. “If the Controller General gets into that vault, it could cost the lives of millions—billions—on many more planets than just Earth.”

  Alpha hits a button on her Resonator and a weak pulse of red Rez hits me square in the chest. It still feels like a lead hammer dropping on me, and Alpha lets her foot off of my throat enough for me to cry out in pain. Even then, all I can focus on is drawing enough breath in to yell at Dex, to tell him: Don’t do it! But then Alpha’s foot is back on my throat, cutting off my breath.

  “Stop!” Dex screams, his voice strangled in agony. I can see tears running down his face, and he’s gripping the gold vial in one trembling hand. He takes a step toward Alpha, who in turn faces him with an understanding nod.

  “Not one more step, Dex,” Dorian warns, his voice iron.

  “I’m sorry,” Dex says through his tears. “I can’t just—I can’t just watch him—” He’s wiping at his face with his free sleeve.

  “Stop!” Lydia yells.

  Dex takes one more step.

  I think I know what Dorian is going to do before he does. Because I’m reaching out for Dex as best I can, trying to warn him, trying to stop it from happening. But I can’t. I’m not strong enough. I can’t find the air to fill my lungs, to form the words, to tell Dex to do something, anything, to run away before…

  Dorian hammers down over all four strings of his bass, eyes ablaze as his Rez blossoms outward toward Dex. The fire is so bright it’s like looking into the sun. Vaguely, I’m aware of Alpha’s foot leaving my throat, of her figure flashing backward to a safe distance, abandoning me to the oncoming blast that’s going to kill Dex and me.

  It’s too fast.

  Too close to do anything.

  Dex’s eyes find mine.

  I hope he doesn’t feel it.

  Help comes from an unexpected source as one of the Synthesizer carriers crashes forward into the ground, plowing a deep furrow as it intercepts the brunt of Dorian’s attack. Dorian’s Rez burst hits the broad side of the carrier and my entire world turns white. Dex is thrown backwards but the wall of fire comes at me, clawing its way toward me too fast to escape. I close my eyes. My world rips itself apart as the shockwave of the explosion hits. I can’t hear anything. Even with closed eyes, all I can see is white.

  Something interrupts the sun-fire intensity coming to swallow me. I crack an eye open, and I can see a shadow against the white, something close by. It’s between me and the wall of flame. The shadow is surrounded
by a brilliant aurora of shimmering, light-green Rez. The flames hit the green wall and the shadowed outline. The Rez flashes and pops, flowing and snaking around the shadow, all while white flames continue in roaring intensity in every other direction. My eyes focus just enough to see her then, green hair beginning to singe from the heat, eyes burning bright red, her turntable Resonator sparking with frantic intensity.

  Sola looks down at me as the maelstrom batters the shield at her back as her Rez wall begins to fail. She sputters, blood and gelcircuitry dripping down her lips. Her stomach is still gored. Then the flames are gone, disappearing, leaving only the night sky behind Sola as she gives one violent shudder and collapses down onto the ground beside me.

  Every inch of me is screaming, burning and blistered. But I’m alive.

  Dex.

  Where’s Dex?

  There. He’s alive. Between the carrier nose-diving into the ground in front of Dex and the explosion that ripped the carrier in half, Dex was thrown a good distance away. He’s fumbling his way to his knees now, his face covered in his own blood. His eyes are glazed as he looks about, shaking slightly in the silence following the explosion. With the same dazed expression, one hand reaches down, sweeping over the ground before coming up with his pencil.

  He blinks once.

  Twice.

  Then he brings his other hand up to study it. He’s holding the shards of a broken vial, glass protruding from deep gashes in his hand as golden liquid drips down his skin, mingling with his dripping blood.

  He opens his mouth and begins to scream.

  Gold lines begin to snake their way across Dex’s arms, tracing veins as they go and quickly passing his elbow. His eyes widen in disbelief as his arm begins to convulse. A moment later his back arches violently, and he throws his head back, his scream gone silent.