Intended Extinction

by Hanks, Greg

  Geno Security maintained Manhattan’s waivering safety and order, often referred to as ‘GenoSEC.’ They monitored surveillance, authorized ID cards, rooted out disturbances, found those tampering with the monthly distribution system, and did anything else pertaining to Manhattan’s uncertain security. Even though there were no “official” enforcement officers, people knew that there were consequences for taking advantage of the system. The men and women were innocent, hardworking people, intent on helping the world get back on its feet.

  There was only one person in the entire building who knew anything about things like armored soldiers. That’s why Erin was there.

  “We didn’t exactly get a chance to clear out your space yet,” said Harvey, showing Erin her new cubicle. It was chock-full of miscellaneous personal items, as if the previous owner had just left yesterday—which wasn’t far from the truth.

  “That’s fine, I’d just like to get to work,” she said, sitting gingerly upon the chair.

  After Harvey finished explaining what needed to be done for today’s work, he leaned up against Erin’s cubicle partition and said, “Thanks for coming in so quickly. To be honest, we’re losing a lot of potential Volunteers. Ever since Vax released, people have suddenly lost interest in Volunteer work. It’s like they think we’re done fighting Edge. I dunno . . . anyways, I don’t mean to keep you. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Harvey.”

  Once he disappeared, she swiveled around and took a deep breath. She glanced at one of the pictures on the desk. It depicted a small family, two parents and a child. They looked extremely happy. Erin picked up the frame and stared at the couple for a few minutes.

  “You know, that’s nice and all, but we’ve got work to do,” said a crystal clear voice inside of her ear. Her eyes shifted and she set the picture down.

  She touched a tiny button on the side of her glasses, issuing a command to the microprocessor inside. In her vision, a window popped up, detailing schematics to the current floor. Satisfied, she clicked the button again, revealing another window, displaying an eight-digit code. 45887890. She ran the code through her head multiple times. Finally, she clicked the button a third time, sending an electronic message to the kiosk up front. That was the cue. It was about to start.

  “All that memorizing and you’re still reviewing,” said the voice inside her ear. “I guess that’s why you’re there and I’m not.”

  Erin ignored him and tried to stay focused.

  Harvey came hustling back to her cubicle with a slim tablet in hand.

  “I know you just got here, but the head of security has requested to see you. He wanted you to bring some charts, too.” He handed her the glass tablet.

  “I don’t understand,” Erin lied, “why would he want to see me?”

  “I’ve heard he’s trying this new thing where he wants to meet all the new Volunteers. It’s just part of the process, no worries. His name’s Elias Ames. He’s a good guy.” He smiled at Erin and the two walked to the front of the room together.

  They made a left turn at the end of the cubicles and came to another door.

  “Just head through here, it’s the door at the end.”

  “Thanks,” said Erin, disappearing into the next corridor.

  The unimpressive hallway passed by as she tapped all the way to the end, finding the last door. “Elias Ames” was spelled out upon the entry. The door rose up automatically as Erin approached.

  “Can I help you?” asked Ames, lifting his head from his work.

  He sat at a large table, filled with papers, posterboards, and glowing screens. A massive window behind him allowed a superb view of the city. It was a fancy room, furnished with plush seating, packed bookcases, and expensive looking interface units.

  “Oh,” said Erin, stepping closer, undeterred, “I was sent to give you these data charts.”

  “What?” he said, getting up from his desk. He was a tall man, in his mid-fifties, with graying hair. He wore a buttondown shirt and slacks, with a black tie hanging loosely from his neck.

  As soon as the two were close enough, Erin kicked her foot at his right leg, spreading him apart. She grabbed his neck and brought his head down upon the edge of the table, knocking him unconscious. As his body slumped to the ground, Erin made no hesitation and moved behind his desk. Below the widow, inserted in the wall, was a small safe.

  She replayed the combination in her mind and punched in the numbers on the small keypad. There was a tiny beep as the safe unlocked.

  “Is it there?” asked the voice from her ear.

  Erin again ignored the annoyance and ruffled through papers, envelopes, and electronic storage devices.

  Nothing. It’s not here . . .

  Erin sighed and twisted her head. She was going to have to wake him up.

  The voice inside her ear cursed.

  Erin sighed and rushed over to Ames, dragging him to one of the white armchairs. She went back to his desk and rummaged through the drawers until she came across a sleek pistol, fully loaded and ready to go. She stepped back to Ames’ crumpled body and slapped his face a few times. He eventually woke up, groaning. Erin placed the barrel of the pistol into his mouth and prepared herself for an interrogation.

  “Where are the security files for Jersey City?” she demanded, wasting no time. “Point to it!”

  He mumbled and moaned, regaining coherence. Erin pressed the gun harder into his mouth. She repeated herself angrily.

  Ames started to chortle with a scratchy undulation. Anger flushed her system, and she brought her foot upon his groin, pressing hard. His eyes shot open and he squirmed in his chair.

  “Where are they?” she demanded. She knew the interrogation was extremely risky, but there was no other option. There was no way she could have smuggled anything else in with her. She only had one shot at this before he made a move and ruined the whole operation.

  In a fearful bout, she smashed his groin, causing him to writhe in pain. He struggled and whimpered, but managed to lift a hand. Erin recoiled a little, but then realized his hand was pointing at the bookcase. She slammed his skull with the butt of the pistol and resumed her search.

  “I felt that all the way from here,” retorted the voice inside her ear.

  Erin didn’t respond, ruffling through books and small statues. After completely emptying one shelf, she noticed a small crease in the wood. She fondled it and pressed the small square. It clicked and opened back up, revealing a compartment. Inside, a rectangular data drive was sitting quietly, ready to be retrieved.

  In five seconds, Erin discarded the weapon, left the room, and went down the hallway to the stairs. It was a good thing all of the cameras had been tampered with, or GenoTec would have seen the whole mess.

  “I can’t believe it,” said the voice in her ear. “I guess you two can be ready in that short amount of time.”

  Finally, Erin replied sarcastically, “Lucky us.”

  She exited the building and waltzed across the street, blending into the crowd and letting her dark hair down.

  “You did fantastic, Tara.”

  29

  42 DAYS AGO

  The massive elevator door opened with an ambient chime, followed by an encompassing female voice.

  “Welcome to the Underbed.” Something about her pronunciation seemed pleasurable. I wanted to hear more.

  Tara was beside me, tense and delicate. Justin jostled near Bollis, more spastic than ever. Bollis was standing tall, no doubt excited to be back in the comfort of his posse—whoever they were.

  “Guys,” Bollis said above the loud machinery, “it’s time for you to meet my family.”

  The door finally made some progress, opening to an expansive room. The ground, floors, and walls were all a dark, solid concrete. In the center of the gigantic room was a raised platform, supporting a cornucopia of computers, interface units, servers, and giant screens. Before I could take in any more of the detail, I focused on the three men stand
ing a few feet away from the entrance.

  The man in the middle stepped forward. “Welcome to the Underbed, indeed!” His voice was low and raspy. His muscles bulged under his suit, biceps as big as footballs. He must have been somewhere in his forties, with lightning white hair that formed a high widow’s peak. A small goatee burst from under his lower lip and a single, misshapen scar covered his lower left cheek. His eyes were completely black, with deep sockets underneath a heavy brow. He seemed pale and ghostly. The accents on his stealth suit were gold, instead of crimson.

  We said nothing. What could we say? We were complete strangers in an absurd underground base. I started to understand how Alice felt when she fell through the rabbit’s hole.

  “Mark, Tara, Justin,” said Bollis, stepping inside the dank facility, “this is Genesis.”

  The man with the white hair stepped closer and offered his hand, “Please, come in. You’re safe here.” His spiky voice deterred my focus. It was both electrifying and soothing at the same time. “My name is Vane, the leader here. I’m the one who invited you to join us.”

  Finally, at least one answer. This was the man who had saved our lives via Bollis. What would a man like him want with a drug addict like me?

  “I know you have many questions,” he said, hands behind his back, “and they will be answered.” He smiled, knowing our thirst. And I believed him. There was something about the way he spoke. Everything he said seemed to hypnotize me.

  “Sick pad!” blurted Justin. He stepped out of the elevator first, the only one excited to be there.

  Vane smiled at the boy. “Why don’t we all step inside? There’s a lot you need to know.” He shot me a piercing glance that lingered until Tara moved.

  I followed her and the elevator shut behind us, echoing throughout the chamber.

  “It’s good to finally meet you three,” the leader continued, extending his hand out to Justin, who returned the gesture by pressing a pointer finger into the open palm. Vane seemed at a loss.

  There was a lot more where that came from.

  Vane turned to the man on his left. “This is Dodge. Our marksman.”

  The new soldier was lean and pole-like, yet fit and cut. He had a long face, with an equally slender nose, reminding me of a parrot. His cheesecake blonde hair was ruffled in every direction, thick on top, buzzed on the sides. His aquamarine eyes sent a friendly and inviting gaze as he smiled at our group. He was as goofy-looking as the grin he brandished.

  “Nice hat, dude!” Dodge exclaimed, admiring Justin’s knit cap. They knocked fists.

  Uh oh. That guy was already on Justin’s side.

  “And this is our trusty siegeman, Vexin.” Vane presented his hand toward the surly, crew cut man standing at his right.

  Vexin was unreadable, reserved, and expressionless. Folded arms. Chiseled, angular face. Short hair producing a rich, honey color. His eyes reminded me of those of a vampire: cold, piercing, and surprisingly white. When I looked in them, a snapping chill rang throughout my bones. From the sour look he gave us, I marked him as the one to avoid.

  “There’s one more you need to meet,” continued Vane, walking toward the middle platform. “Come, we’ve got food for you as well.”

  That’s all it took for my interest to soar through the roof. I started to lower my shields.

  As we approached the platform, a woman came into view, sitting on one of four chairs next to a desk loaded with technology. She had long, dark hair, beaded and braided on the sides. She wore brown-rimmed, plastic glasses, making her look a hundred times smarter. Pale skin was accentuated by a cute beauty mark below her left eye. Her bottom lip was pierced with a simple ring, and her entire right forearm was a complex tattoo—black pine trees, extending from her wrist, inlayed with fluttering birds. She was the only one of the group without a stealth suit. She wore blue jeans, brown flats, and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

  “Here is our most prized possession,” said Vane. “Our analyst, Celia.”

  “Hello,” she said, staying seated. Her voice was as fragile as porcelain, and she seemed annoyed. From the looks of it, she was in the middle of working on a big project. Schematics were posted on holographic displays, unrecognizable data were moving like ants across a large Fuse overhead, and stacks of other devices were strewn throughout her workspace.

  I couldn’t think straight because of the smell coming from the opposite side of the platform. Deep bowls filled with steaming beef stew had been placed at each seat, accompanied by large glasses of milk. A tantalizing, homemade loaf of bread sat patiently next to a container of soft butter. It was simple, but it looked better than anything I had ever seen.

  “Please,” said Vane, “we want you to have your strength. Eat.”

  Justin didn’t hesitate for one second. He was the first to rush to his seat and begin slurping his stew. Tara looked at me with tired eyes and we sat together.

  “While you eat,” he continued, “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

  We tried to angle ourselves toward the mysterious leader.

  “We are a resistance group,” he said, flatly. “An unnoticed, covert team. Eight years ago, I formed this organization in hopes of showing the world what was really going on inside GenoTec. I had enough evidence—I thought I could do it within a year. Things were in place. I had Slate pinned. However, Edge happened, among other things. To make a long story short, GenoTec is not who you think they are. No matter how wonderful it would be for them to develop a cure—that cannot happen. Once they’ve got one, everything’s going to change. They’ll turn this world into their empire. Freedom will be just a memory. I formed Genesis to expose the truth. Today, despite our setbacks, we still stand for that idea. But we’re running out of time. We are on the eve of a disaster. And GenoTec’s switched their play at the last second. That’s why you’re here.”

  As I looked at the members of Genesis, I became aware of the seriousness of their goal. Tara and I had fallen into an uprising in progress. These weren’t just some insurgents fighting on a whim. These were dedicated, goal-oriented patriots.

  “I thought Bollis said he didn’t know why we were being hunted?” Tara said.

  Vane nodded. “Right. We don’t. I’m sorry to involve you in our mission, but in order to keep you safe and figure out why Repik wanted you dead, we needed to bring you in.”

  “So Repik’s behind this?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. Slate before him. Most of the founders have been building this dream from the very start.”

  “Wait a second,” Tara interjected, “how did you know we were being targeted?”

  Celia piped up. “We monitor chatter. We got wind of your names, but had no idea of what was going to happen at the Turnmont.”

  Tara seemed dissatisfied.

  “So, what,” I started, “you just plan to hold us here until you figure out why Repik wants us dead?”

  He paced a few more times. “Well, not exactly,” he said, smiling. “We want you to join us.”

  The three of us just sat there, not necessarily in awe, but in puzzlement.

  “What?” I half laughed.

  “We want you to fight with us.”

  Tara tried to come up with words, but could only muster a scoff.

  “Listen,” I said, “I can’t tell you enough how much we appreciate your help. You saved our lives. But . . . I don’t want to be a part of your war. You guys have your little outfits and weapons, and that’s great, but we’re just trying to survive.”

  Vane smiled and said, “Ah, but that’s the point. You have survived. You underestimate your own abilities. You have guts. In two months, you could be on the same level as the rest of us. In two months, we could be ready to end this corruption.”

  “I’m in!” shouted Justin.

  Dodge stifled a laugh.

  I was shaking my head. “No. This is—I didn’t follow Bollis into your cave just to be drafted into your resistance. I came for answers.”

  “You act as if yo
u know us,” said Tara. “But we’re not who you think we are. We’re not soldiers.”

  “And you think we wanted this life?” asked Vane, looking at each of his teammates. “We’re people, just like you, who want to go back to living normal lives. But if GenoTec succeeds and assumes total control, there will be nothing normal about life. What, you think someone else is going to do this? The degenerates in the Dustslum? Volunteers?”

  “Well, maybe if more people knew about GenoTec’s true side, you wouldn’t have to do it alone,” I proposed.

  Vane smiled. “I wish it were that simple, Mark. GenoTec controls everything. They monitor every detail of information. Anyone who dares to make a statement would be silenced. It may not seem like that on the outside, but it’s the truth.”

  The room fell silent.

  “If you leave,” he continued, “those soldiers will keep coming until you’re dead. But here, you can make a difference. You can be a part of stopping one of the biggest tragedies in history.”

  Bollis stepped forward and said, “We need your help. I don’t want to live in a world where freedom doesn’t exist. That’s exactly what’s going to happen if Repik leads us into the next decade.”

  Dodge chimed in, too. “How long do you think you’ll last on your own?” He folded his arms. “We can’t protect you if you leave. Bollis won’t be there the next time Tara’s got a gun to her head. I know it sucks, but GenoTec’s kind of forced you into this position. You don’t have many options.”

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt betrayed. No, this wasn’t real. Maybe I did die in that car crash.

  Vane sighed. “We cannot force you into anything.” He approached me with conviction. “But you must think about what’s happening. It is unfortunate that GenoTec is trying to kill you, but we’re offering you a way out, and a way to fight back.”

  I looked over to Tara, who shared my fear and frustration. All I wanted to do was take my chances without them. I wanted to run away, not toward the problem. I didn’t want to become a mercenary, a renegade. I wanted to implode or crawl under a rock.