The Arkhe Principle (Book Book 1)

by Maxwell Rudolf

  She tried to get to scramble up using the tree for support, and as she did, blood poured out from Reginald's lips. She tasted the copper blood in her mouth too and spit. His eyes focused down as he drew his autopistol and turned towards the direction of the sound. Time slowed and her combat reflexes engaged.

  The digi-ammo counter on her pistol blinked zeros and ones, and her vision blurred like being underwater. His mouth foamed, and he gurgled, gasping for anything to take in. She couldn't breathe either, and she fell, clutching her throat. His eyes begged at his surroundings. He spit blood foam out, gripped his autopistol, and grabbed Rosie's shoulders.

  Sound returned like the crack of a whip, and she took in a huge rush of oxygen. Her head pounded with fury, and she heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The worming sensation in her belly was gone, but she tasted bile in her mouth. "What was that?"

  "We have to move out of here," he muttered. Behind them, the ground swelled upwards, and as she spun her head, she took note of the trees behind them which enabled them to hide their position from anyone who might approach. No one was advancing towards them.

  She brought the Sinsii to her eyes and fumbled with the controls. "It is malfunctioning." She remembered to peer at the digi ammo counter on her Remi and the weapon was also zeroed out. "Check yours. Mine is blanked."

  "So is mine. You think they still work? I have seen a short out before but never a blank readout."

  "How would I know?" She ejected and reinserted the magazine in frustration, hoping it would fix the readout. "St. George! Damn this! We have to get out of here. This was a bad idea."

  "Once we get home, we dispose of everything and act as though none of this ever happened."

  "Lead on." But as they started to move, he ducked down.

  Above the ridge where Rosie was watching, new figures emerged. All were men and outsized anyone even the finest of the Kingdom blood sports athletes. On their side, their famed Plasstien-12 battle Gladius. They each carried a crimson, P-10 Scutum—a rectangular shield, and on their other arm an E-Band protected their arm up to their shoulders. A Cassis Crista was painted to look like a skull, the purple vertical plume of their helmet waving from side to side, protecting their heads. Their Ocrea leg piece armored them up to their knees. The Roman Free Murmillos, their empire's most elite troops, had somehow infiltrated their way here, and now that they had, she prayed The Savior Prayer for a proper rebirth.

  Dozens of them crept over the ridge towards Site 13. How did they get here? Reginald tapped on her shoulder and pointed to the lead man standing over three-meters tall. His entire being radiated authority and power, and despite never seeing any Roman before, her eyes fixated on them. Her stomach knotted. His Gladius was unsheathed, and they marched towards the sound on the other side. Then the noise pierced the air again like the sound of a god's death knell.

  It splashed over the side of the road, ahead of her and Reginald, but the effect of the blast wasn't felt in the same way this time. In fact, she felt nothing at all, only terror at seeing them. The sound was directed at the Murmillos, and they ducked behind their Scutums and started advancing across the street, dodging behind trees and bolting for cover. All of their Gladii were drawn and some shouted battle commands in Roman. Another blast screeched, this time cracking one of their shields and splitting the Murmillos' torso open, his entrails flying out into the snow from the sonic compression.

  Then they broke into a full sprint, leaping wildly through the white like they'd been training for this event their entire lives, leapfrogging over logs towards the sounds of the guns. Crackling energy burst forth on the other side of the road, and blue lightning arced and crackled in the air. Everything around her smelled of ozone, and the rumbling sonic weapons made her guts vibrate and shake. Hundreds of men, all wearing orange audiophones over their ears and neon orange jumpsuits materialized from behind cover aiming long barreled rifles and spraying out sonic death.

  A man standing at the front held up his arm in the air as if he were going to signal them to fire in unison. He brought a cone-like device to his mouth and bellowed, "I am Pop_msk*dncr+1, the founder and Lord of Pop Music! Hear my call! I claim this site in the name of Pop Music and all that it stands for! Do any of you Romans dare challenge me? For I will do battle this minute and exile you from this reality forever!"

  The Murmillos all roared out their battle call, a throaty war cry to Mars and Jupiter. Their giant leader raised his hand back and pointed, and all of his men stopped, taking cover in the woods. He held his sword to the sky and shouted, "Pop_msk*dncr+1! I am the mighty champion Spartacus of the Murmillos! You will bow to me and kiss my feet. Then all of you will get on your knees and service us with your mouths, one by one until we are satisfied. Then I will kill all of your men, except for you, which I will take as a sex slave and when I'm done pumping your asshole, I will feed you to my neo-rats, shit on your corpse, and piss on your remains."

  "You dare say these words to me, Murmillo?!" Pop_msk*dncr+1 spit on the ground. "Then war you shall have!"

  From behind the orange-clad men, an explosion broke the trees meters from the site of the impact. Everyone was thrown back, and several men were hit with flying shrapnel, cutting off limbs and puncturing bodies.

  It was 07:56, Day 110 in District 8, Labor's Park.

  The truth of Site 13 never seemed so far away.

  47 Unregistered Autocrafts in Pursuit

  John Edwards Rex, you are receiving a call from Nancy Hutchin at Pilly's Peak. Would you like to take it?

  "No."

  Her image appeared on the H-Color telecaster, and her voice came through as clear as if she were in the autocraft with him. "You can't escape us. Return so we can sort this out. You've killed quite a number of guards here. We can call the coppers. You will be zeroed on that alone."

  "Fuck off." And he nulled the connection.

  What could he tell Neil? That he was contacted by something known as Arkhe and he was 'adapting?' The entire line of questioning would lead nowhere because the word itself was meaningless. Adapting to what? The tiny mole on his thumb had disappeared, and his face looked... better, more symmetrical. Stronger. And his physical strength was incredible. He moved quicker than anything he'd thought possible. But it didn't feel like he was moving faster but that time itself was slowing.

  His Lionheart jettisoned through the air towards the bio-maze at the Kingdom Estates. After he arrived, parked, and walked over to the seating bench outside, he found Neil and his woman sitting beneath an umbrella heater. Both had a few bags, and he had two extra suitcases next to him.

  "I packed everything here, but you need to explain yourself." Neil said, folding his arms.

  "Pilly's killed everyone else but you and me, and I barely managed to escape by stealing that Lionheart over there," he pointed. "I've got to go home to Elizabeth and gather my things. I've got to do something..."

  "Well if that's yours, our stuff is here. I knew Pilly's was bad, damn it, and you were not paying any attention to me when I tried signaling to you. I called it in to the station, but I don't think anything is going to happen. I was told by the detectives they would look into it, and they basically hung up on me. By the way, this is my wife, Emma. Emma, this is my friend John I told you about."

  They exchanged platitudes while he picked up the two suitcases from Neil and made off towards his autocraft. They tossed the luggage in the trunk, and flew off to Elizabeth. The autocraft's heaters whined overtime as the heat blasted his face. His face tingled and he rubbed his nose. But although it was warmer than outside, the wind streamed cold air inside because the window had been shot out during the exchange in the garage.

  He brought the vehicle higher and turned towards his friend. "Did you bring any weapons? They might already be there."

  "Of course. Plenty of ammo too."

  "How much fifty caliber did you bring? Because we might not be able to buy more even with my veteran license or your copper credentials. I have a strong
feeling Pilly's has a lot of reach."

  Emma went inside one of the bags and started pulling out full Remi magazines and put them next to her in the back seat. Neil sat beside him on the left, and he turned around, palm open. She handed him a 12mm pistol and gave over enough ammo to kill a slotch of ovr bulls. Then she handed over the .50 magazines.

  "How did you know to bring those?" John asked.

  "I emptied out my vault."

  He gave his Remi to Neil who ejected the empty mag and reloaded it for him.

  "Damn!" He blurted out. He picked up the telecaster and dialed Elizabeth.

  She answered in her erotic tone. "My dear! You are telecasting from a new Lionheart. How splendid! And according to its internal mapping system, you will be home soon. Our vid is ready for us to watch when you arrive home. Would you like some refreshing stim tea when you arrive?"

  "Are there any other people in the area? I need you to ask the houses down the block if anything is suspicious. If you detect anyone coming close to the house, you let me know immediately!"

  Moments elapsed. "Of course," she said. "Nothing unusual is taking place. I will eagerly await your arrival."

  He nulled out the telecaster, and Neil looked over at him as if he wanted to say something. "You think my house is compromised? I only have a few hundred Edwards left in my wallet. The only things I own are Elizabeth, that Remi you are holding in your hand, and this autocraft. Two of those are stolen. I am screwed."

  "Do you think they can compromise your house?" Neil's statement didn't come across so much a question as it was a way of saying they probably already had. After all, his friend was a copper, and if anyone would know besides his mother, it would be him. Perhaps, that's who I should call. No, I can't get her involved in this. I'm in so much trouble.

  "After seeing what is going on in Pilly's, I have no doubt. Look, my house... it knows me. She has been asking questions, and if I had a brain, I should have thought more about why my mom lives where she does. Her house does not ask questions like mine does." He threaded through the air traffic like a crochet needle.

  A storm came in and pouring freezing rain fell down from the sky, slamming into the Plasstien windshield and whipped through the inside of his Lionheart.

  "So what are you going to do?" Neil reached back into a bag and pulled out a thermal blanket and a can of Plank fluid. "Put this thing on autopilot for a sec so I can spray the window back."

  "Hand it to me, and I will do it." He took the can and started spraying from the bottom of the shattered window and back over the missing and damaged Plasstien parts. The Planks spider-webbed around and followed the coding in the Lionheart commanding the Planks where to go and what to do. It reformed and solidified. It took a few seconds to complete, and he had emptied the can.

  "Looks like I owe you one. Thanks." John said.

  "Do not mention it," Emma said. "I have got a few more back there. I am not going to go about in this thing freezing half to death." So was she a picker then?

  Unregistered autocrafts are in pursuit. Would you like me to engage the auto-pilot function or notify the police?

  "No!" He glimpsed in the mirror. "Get down! Can you see them?"

  Neil looked back through the passenger mirror and saw what the Lionheart was talking about. Two 440S' with overcharged R-H turbines were close. Built similarly to John's stolen 450T, the 440S's were slicker and faster but could only carry two. They were weaving through traffic and gaining speed. He couldn't possibly outrun them.

  "Yes, but I will use your pistol. As soon as I start firing, everyone is going to call the coppers on their telecasters. Veer out and isolate them." Neil chambered a round and looked back through his mirror.

  He pulled the stick hard back and to the right, almost swiping several vehicles. The sky was full of autocrafts, and below them on the massive 8-lane freeways of Londun, ground traffic swelled. One grav vehicle whizzed by as he pulled out, and it crashed head first into another autocraft. An amber fireball mushroomed in the air and pieces of Plasstien rained down on unsuspecting autocrafts.

  John shook his head and blinked a few times. His vision was clear, and he was beginning to feel like himself again. Certainly Pilly's had something in the air. Off in the distance, the many towering buildings of downtown Londun offered him the best possible chance of taking the 440's on, and one at a time, but he was too far away. Without time to fly to the skyscrapers, he would have to make do with where he was. Just like being in the 2nd.

  He piloted the autocraft down into the red district where the Kingdom had let the city fend for itself, and he eyed several places where he could maneuver through the decrepit, abandoned buildings below. He pushed the stick down, the rain splattering harmlessly against the windshield. Emma lunged forward, hitting her head on the soft seat cushion in front of her. He straightened out and zipped down Bellinghamshire Lane.

  "Take the shot!" John thundered. He yanked the control back just before crashing nose first into the ground.

  They split with one going behind a building and another tailing close behind him. Their plan was working. Neil lowered the window, and the wind, rain, and cold stabbed inside. He leaned out and fired six times in rapid succession, and the blood red 440S careened off into an abandoned clothing store and exploded into a ball of orange and red fire. People came pouring out from nearby buildings and sprinted off in different directions.

  As John pulled the stick up to get a higher vantage point, the other 440S had already gained a positional advantage in the sky. The passenger, wearing P-6 full battle armor, aimed her FR-6 fusion rifle at him. He pushed the stick down, plummeting his stolen autocraft down towards the road. He jerked hard right, and the Lionheart's grav plates swung the autocraft, slamming into one of the fleeing crowd, killing him instantly.

  "Give me the gun!" He reached over without looking and took his firearm back. "Close your eyes!" John shouted over the roar of the engine, rain, and fire. He lowered the window and emptied the rest of his magazine, hitting the front engine of the 440S square on. The autocraft barreled left, blood splattering from the inside. It lurched over. When it dropped, the bottom grav plate hit a pole sticking up through the ground, and the entire plate tore off, sending metal and Plasstien everywhere like fragments from a grenade. It flipped end over end, landing on its side, taking out dozens of fleeing St. Georgians until it crashed into an abandoned tourist stand and exploded.

  "I expect more. Keep looking behind us." John pulled up and sped off towards his house. A blinking light on the telecaster indicated an incoming call, and the display read, "Elizabeth." He answered.

  Her image appeared on the screen, her lips black, the rest of her face golden with cubes of neon green data dripping off her face. A diamond collar gave him the impression she was off to some Underworld party.

  "Go ahead. Oh, and remove that collar. What is it?" John said through the wind. His nose was turning numb and started to hurt from the inside.

  She disappeared and her disembodied voice continued to speak on the telecaster." Oscar Vilde has been trying to contact you. He registers as one of the most wanted criminals in the Kingdom. Would you like me to transfer the call? He gave his name but his bio reads him as Mr. Roger Peters."

  He gripped the stick, feeling the cold Plasstien in his hand. He dreamed of killing that bastard of an infamous criminal who was sowing discord and strife in the Kingdom. Why would that son of a bitch be calling? "Did he leave a message?"

  "He said he has a book for you that will help explain everything. Mr. Peters said he knows your mother and they are working together. He said it was level ten important."

  "Patch me through."

  The connection nulled out, and Roger's image came through, a box face with a strong jaw, a two-day old beard growth with flakes of white coming in around his chin, and bloodshot, jaga smoke eyes. The cross of St. George hung around his neck.

  "Captain Johann Edward..." Roger began.

  "John will be fine. What do you want
? You said you have some special book for me? I have got a lot going on right now, and how did you find my number?"

  "You are in the greatest danger of your life, and I feel an obligation to try and help you out. Your mother and I are business partners, and if she found out I knew something which could help to save your life but did not act on it, she would no doubt send that Frank guy after me."

  "Who is Frank?" John inquired.

  "Her bodyguard." Roger went on to describe Reginald down to his rather distinct nose. Smart move, mom, by not giving away free information to this maniac.

  "How soon can you be at my house?"

  "I am but few blocks away."

  "Meet me in five minutes."

  48 The Note

  05:26

  D.K.E.

  Day 110

  District 8 Labor's Park

  Gungnir and Victoria hadn't slept for 30 hours but after hitting a St. George supply grav truck and gorging on chocolate fried banana stims, both of them felt much better. The autocraft contained hundreds of liters of potable water and thousands of packets of cherry, strawberry, grape, and orange mix. But he had to tell her to stop drinking all the cherry.

  "I'm going to search the supply vehicle for whatever else I can find," she said.

  "Go ahead. Make yourself useful. About time you did something other than eat, tell me about yourself, and stare at me." He couldn't keep his eyes off her either, and when she turned away, he would gaze longingly at her body wanting to kiss all of her. More than anything, he wanted to make sure she remained safe. So he crept up in the back, Asger in hand, and stood watch. She dug out a box with a bio lock under a long crate of ammo.

  "The container is bio locked. Keep looking."

  Her eyes narrowed down, and she placed her hands over the lock. White circles formed around the lock, and tiny, nano-planks fell from under her flesh, forming a small cloud. The readout zeroed out, reread her signature, and opened. She reached inside and pulled out a stack of quantum paper and assorted military hardware, none of which would be useful.