by M. K. Gibson
As I inhaled deeply, the gray cloud allowed me to clear my mind and focus on the now. And of course, ol’ Johnny’s seminal lyrics. I heard his haunting voice. I heard the chains rattle. I heard the message and my focus was clear.
I snapped my eyes open, took one last drag off the smoke, flicked it away and pulled my blasters in a flash.
OK, fuckers. Today, I’m God. And you’re about to learn why Jesus wept.
Chapter Forty-Seven
My Own Personal Skynet
TJ felt ice water in the stomach. Pure fear.
Then the air erupted in so many shots it sounded like the popping corn his dad made for him. Everything around him was loud. So loud. Explosions and screams. He smelled the ozone from energy-discharged weapons. The stink of coppery blood was so overpowering, he tasted it in his mouth.
He saw an angel stagger through the garden brush. The angel had a hole in his head, straight through his eye, so large that TJ could see through to the other side. The creature fell at dead at his feet.
TJ did what any kid would do. He ran. As he ran, everywhere he looked was death.
Strange identical men were everywhere, shooting. Killing. TJ saw angels die and something inside him knew it was the worst thing he ever could imagine. It was like watching a shooting star burn out. Instead of making a wish, he felt something inside him cry.
Ever since he woke in this place he had felt better. Faster. Stronger. TJ’s legs pumped harder than he ever thought they could. He leaped over the dead with the grace of a gazelle. And he could nimbly dodge broken ruins and corpses.
One of the strange men in the dark blue, synth-skin shirt, cargo pants and boots stepped out on the path and aimed a giant rifle at TJ’s head.
“Sorry, kid.”
“NO!” a booming voice yelled out.
Chael leaped through the air, tackling the man with the gun to the ground. Chael was up first. He grabbed the man by his ankles and lifted him in the air, then slammed him back down so hard the man’s neck cracked and his head broke open.
The giant looked at TJ with a satisfied smile. “We have to give him time. Time to end it all.”
Before TJ could say anything, Chael ran off through the garden paths, towards the sound of fighting.
TJ just looked at what was left of the man and threw up there on the path. His guts retched and he heaved up everything there was in his stomach and more. TJ fell to his hands and knees and shook.
He was scared. He missed his dad. He just wanted to go home. But Chael was right—they needed to give Mr. Salem time. He had to get the Tear-things so that he could give them to the demons in order to save his new home. To save his dad.
TJ looked at the dead man’s weapon. It was far too big and bulky for him to use. But he noticed the man had a conventional 9mm side-arm with several mags of ammo. TJ took the dead man’s weapon and holster.
Staying low, TJ reasoned that since almost everyone here was bigger than he, they wouldn’t look down. As he moved, images would flash in his head. Echos. Where men and angels would be. TJ followed his instincts and moved unseen.
The main courtyard was horrible. Everywhere TJ looked he saw chaos. Angels fought against the strange identical men who positioned portable shield generators, creating points of resistance. They lobbed grenades to scatter clusters of angels and then fired their main guns in controlled bursts.
TJ moved behind one of the domed gazebos, behind one of the strange men’s resistance points. He took out the 9mm and aimed. He took a deep breath, held it, released it slowly, and pulled the trigger.
The weapon was little in comparison to the noise of the battle. Barely a “pop.” But TJ’s shot was perfect. He hit one of the strange men in the back of the head, killing him. TJ dropped, waiting for return fire. When none happened, he peered out again.
Selecting his next target, TJ repeated the process. Deep breath, aim, breathe out and squeeze. Pop, dead. On his third attempt, one of the men saw him.
“Oh shit!” TJ said as several of the men turned at once and began blind firing at the white stone gazebo.
Hunks of stone exploded as a barrage of automatic fire rained down upon TJ’s hiding spot. Reflexively TJ dropped his gun and balled up as tiny as he could make himself. He clamped his hands to his ears and screamed in primal fear, a scream no one could hear over the gunfire.
TJ screamed and screamed until his throat was raw. His tears stung from the open cuts on his face caused by exploding stone shrapnel.
TJ knew he was going to die. And there wasn’t anything he could do.
Then, a miracle happened. TJ opened one eye, and from the angle he was lying, he could just make out a single figure atop the garden pathway that led down the hill from the inner temple to the massive courtyard. He shouldn’t have been able to see him at that distance, but he could see Salem standing there with his guns out.
He was saved.
But . . . why wasn’t Salem moving?
********
I ran down the garden path, reaching the top of the path from the temple’s inner sanctum to the massive courtyard. It was a bloody, horrible battlefield. Angels were dying. As hard as they tried to fight back, the Legion was too good, too well-armed, and moved too perfectly. First, I had to make sure TJ was safe. I scanned the battleground, looking at all the gazebos like the one I saw in the crystal’s image.
There.
TJ was pinned down. And a cadre of Legions were taunting him. Slowly whittling away his cover. They were just wasting ammo to make him scared before they killed him.
I didn’t have enough piss in my body to defile all these bodies. But I would do my best. The courtyard was a nightmare, but I had to go in there. I had to save that damned kid. I would just have to trust in my skills and luck to get me through.
As I took my first step to run into battle, my body locked up. Complete energy shield enclosure.
Collective?
//ONLINE//
What are you doing?
//HOST IS HEADING INTO AN EXTREME LOW CHANCE OF SURVIVAL SITUATION - MORTAL DANGER - COLLECTIVE HAS INITIATED LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL//
Collective, release me. I command you.
//NEGATIVE - UNTIL HOST RESOLVES TO NOT ENTER THE FRAY COLLECTIVE CANNOT FREE HOST//
I didn’t even know how to react. My very worst fear had come to pass. My own personal Skynet. The Matrix. Some . . . other reference where machines go batshit and take over humanity.
//COLLECTIVE IS NOT DEFICIENT - HOST REMAINS IN CONTROL AS COLLECTIVE REMAINS SUPPORTIVE OF HOST - EXCEPTIONS ONLY WHEN HOST AND HOST’S ALLIES ARE PERCIEVED TO BE IN MORTAL DANGER - QUERY: WHY DOES HOST WISH TO DIE//
I don’t wish to die. But TJ is out there. He’s just a kid and he needs help.
//QUERY: IS CHILD’S LIFE WORTH MORE THAN HOST’S OR COLLECTIVE’S EXISTENCE//
It isn’t like that. He’s a kid!
//HOST’S LOGIC IS FLAWED - CHILD IS NOT HOST’S OFFSPRING - BIOLOGICAL IMPERATIVE NEED TO PROTECT THE SPAWN IS NOT PRESENT//
I know he’s not mine. But he is a friend. And he doesn’t deserve to die like that!
//INSUFFICIENT//
Collective, I swear I will rip this shield generator out of me!
//HOST’S IMPROBABLE INTENTIONS NOTED - HOST WILL REMAIN ALIVE TO DO SO DUE TO COLLECTIVE’S LOCKDOWN//
I had nothing. Maybe if I had time to think about a logical argument, then maybe I could persuade The Collective. But under the conditions I was in, all I could think about was saving TJ. If the kid had my level of cybernetic development, then perhaps he had a chance of survival.
Cybernetic development. That was it!
Collective. I know why you need to free me and help save TJ.
//AWAITING RATIONALE//
TJ is your offspring.
//INACCURATE - THE ADOLESCENT CHILD DESIGNATED TJ IS THE BIOLOGICAL SPAWN OF THE ADULT HUMAN DESIGNATED TAYLOR//
True. But his internal nanite cybernetics are derived from you. You are the progenitor to a fl
edgling Collective. Soon, TJ’s nanites will reach sentience. You will then have your own child within him.
The Collective didn’t answer.
You will no longer be alone as an artificial intelligence. The one evolving inside TJ will become like you. It is from your programming. That is your child out there.
The shield around my body dropped and I could move again.
//HOST MUST SAVE COLLECTIVE’S OFFSPRING - RECOMMENDATION: UTILIZE OVERCLOCK//
Heh, you got it.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Innocence of a Child
In the last two hundred years, The Collective had been my best friend. My only companion when I was in some really dark places. It was the voice inside me that let me know I wasn’t alone.
When you grow up a freak, you take your friends where you can get them. Even when that friend is just a voice inside your head.
When I was a child, and The Collective first spoke inside my head, I thought I was going crazy. And even crazier still, I talked back to it. Like I said: freak.
Our relationship, mine and The Collective’s, had always been one of dependence. I gave it a home and it gave me—well, everything that I was. As it grew and evolved, it enhanced me. And, I’d like to think, I enhanced it. Which was why the concept of procreation spurred the Collective to drop the shields and let me fight.
But first, I needed to get their attention on me and not TJ. Legion was a bully, and I HATED bullies. These days I just shot them in the face.
I mean, if you have the right permit, it’s legal. I didn’t have one at the moment to kill this asshole, but since we were in some kind of alternate dimension, I guessed the rules didn’t apply.
I fired my blasters at the nearest of the Legion, and was rewarded with a sudden incoming hail of gunfire. I dodged to the side and rolled behind some of the stone ruins for cover. Guess I had their attention.
It was time to use The Collective’s advice. Peeking my head out to get a view of the battlefield, I activated the overclock, and immediately the world slowed down to a fraction of the normal speed as I, and more importantly The Collective, was able to see everything coming in.
We saw 347 Legions within sight, each armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Two hundred twenty-one angels fought back, while 314 fled. I could see 1,437 various plasma blasts and conventional rounds in the air.
I powered down the overclock and brought the world back to regular speed as the plasma rounds and bullets whizzed past me. I took three deep breaths and took off down the path. The Collective and I moved in unison as our pre-programmed route allowed me to dodge the danger. I sprinted through the path from the temple’s inner garden into the open courtyard and fired up the overclock again.
Everywhere I could see there was a Legion firing at me or an angel running for cover. I took it all in and allowed The Collective to map my future movements. So on it went. Time sped up, time slowed down. I weaved, bobbed and dodged. Most of the time I made him miss, which just made him madder.
But sometimes my skill, and luck, wasn’t enough. Once I came out of the overclock and took two slugs to the chest.
Ouch.
Another time, in order to continue my path, I had to take a plasma round to the face. I jerked aside just enough so that the blast hit just above my right cheekbone and through my eyebrow. Another inch and it would have melted my eye. As it was, I would have a nasty scar for some time, even with The Collective’s advanced healing.
Whatever. Girls dig scars. I think. Even at my age, I knew diddly-squat about women.
I ran straight at the gazebo where TJ was hiding. A trio of Legion was set up behind a portable energy-shield generator. The quarter-dome of translucent energy gave them superior cover to fire from.
Another overclock activated and I saw all three of them and their firing lines. If I continued, I was going to die. Their positions were too perfect. So when the rules of the battlefield are against you, you change the battlespace.
Here goes nothing. Returning to normal time, I ignited my pulse-boots and jumped high into the air. I fired a nano-filament line from my left tech bracer into the stone dome of the gazebo, and it reeled me in fast. The three Legion couldn’t draw a bead on me as I zipped past them. Looking over my right shoulder, I fired three shots with my right blaster.
Three shots, three kills. Damn, I’m awesome. Well, it could help that I had a colony of cybernetic sentient nanomachines inside me that turned my brain into an automated tracking system.
“Heya, kid. What’s new?” I asked, plopping down next to TJ, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Holy shit!” TJ yelled as he barreled into me, knocking me down with his hug. “I thought I was dead,” he whispered.
“Not today, kid. Not today.” I hugged him back. I had to remember that while he was a tough little guy, he was still just a kid. And any kid who’s ever felt love, just like any adult, can feel the fear of abandonment. I mentally kicked myself because when I went into the shrine, TJ must have awoken alone and scared.
“What happened?” TJ asked, his hand going towards my face.
“Caught a round in the face. No worries.”
“No, not that,” TJ said. “That’s kinda cool. I mean your nose and ears.”
I touched my nose. Blood. And again in my ears. They were also bleeding. Shit. The overclock. It was an awesome tool. But too much pushed my brain functions beyond the limits of even what The Collective could manage. Cybernetic I was, but I still had flesh, blood, and gray squishy brain that reacted to things like hyperactivity, and showed it with lesions.
“Nothing, kid. I’ll be fine,” I lied.
“How about when we get out of here, we tell dad there was far less shooting and explosions and shit like that,” I offered.
“Ya think?” TJ said with a weak smile. “You got The Tears, right? Isn’t that what the demons wanted? You get them and they don’t kill the town?”
“TJ, I . . .” Shit. How do you tell a kid you failed and that there was a no chance of getting home in time to save him?
“You didn’t get them, did you?”
“I tried, TJ. I really did. But . . . I wasn’t worthy. I was too . . . too stained.”
“I don’t understand,” TJ said as his eyes watered. “You said my dad would be all right. This whole fucking trip, you said he would be all right!”
Goddammit, he tried like hell to hold it back, but his lip quavered and his eyelids trembled. I could read it plain as day on his face: My dad is going to die and it’s YOUR FAULT.
I didn’t know how to explain to him that I wasn’t worthy. That a lifetime of sins and self-doubt kept me from touching the one thing that would save Löngutangar and his dad. I didn’t know how to tell him it had been a long time since I had the innocence of a child. That I . . .
Innocence of a child. Sariel, you sneaky bastard, I thought as everything dawned on me.
A fragment of my vision came back. Taylor . . . Raphael. Remiel’s comment about the Son of Hope would never get The Tears. Hell, even Ehawe’s letter—she’d said it wasn’t about me.
Oh . . . shit, TJ was a nephilim. A demi-god. Remiel let me into the damn shrine to keep me busy while she used her power to bring Legion here. To kill TJ.
I looked at TJ and quirked a smile. “TJ, do you trust me?”
“No, not really,” he sniffed.
Oh hell. “OK, fair enough. But I am asking you trust me now. I can’t touch The Tears. But you can.”
“Me?” he asked.
“Yeah, you. Why do you want The Tears?”
“To save my dad.”
“More than anything?”
“Yes.”
“More than anything else in the world? No matter what, all you want to do is save your dad?”
“Yes,” he said again.
“Louder, TJ. I need to believe it.”
“Yes!”
“Good. You need to run back that way.”
I described the spot where I touch
ed the stone wall as best as I could. I told him that when he heard a voice, all he needed to do was be honest and say that he only wants to save his father. And if he could ignore everything else he saw, then we still had a chance to save him.
“Now, can you do all that?”
“I guess. But all the shooting.”
“You let me take care of that. When the shooting turns my way, you scramble out of here and get to that Shrine. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome.” I put my fist out for a bump and TJ just stared at it.
Ugh. Kids these days. “You hit it with your fist.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s cool. A thing, you know, to . . . oh hell. Never mind. When you see an opening, you take it and don’t look back.”
“Salem?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s happening to me? Inside me?”
Ahh, damn it. I wasn’t expecting that big a change that quickly. But since my Collective is vastly more advanced now than they were when I was injected, it stood to reason that TJ’s changes would come at a much faster rate.
It also meant that they were changing his host into something.
Me. Sorta.
“You’re changing. Like I did when I was your age. Back in First Heaven, you were dying. I let Riggs injected some of my cybernetic nanites in you to save you. They’re . . . altering you. Making you faster and stronger. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess,” TJ said considering my words. “I was dying? I—I remember getting shot. And it hurting. Then waking up here.”
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry all this happened. But you have to keep your mind on the task. What are you going out there to do?”
TJ looked over his shoulder at the battle and the path. “I’m going to save my fucking dad.”
“Goddamn right,” I said as I stood and drew my weapons.
“Where are you going?”
“To buy you the time you need. Make it fast, kid. Otherwise, I may get, you know . . . dead.”
