As I moved, Gene talked to me. “SecureCorp has access to a ‘presence’ beacon in your HUD, which indicates whether your bodily functions are currently active. I am attempting to install a hack that will allow you to disable that beacon. Activating the hack will make it appear that you’ve ceased to exist.”
“They’ll think I’m dead,” I said, too busy running for my life to pay much attention.
“The hack should be operational shortly,” Gene said. “A skull-shaped icon will appear with all the others when the process is complete.”
We finally reached an open concourse. Directly ahead was a row of elevators.
I can finally get out of this place, I thought.
I flew to them and hammered on the Down button a couple of dozen times. Sirens, explosions, and gunfire echoed from outside. I took a step toward the window next to me and looked down. Far below, a massive crowd were descending on the building. A line of muzzle flashes from defenders ran the length of the entrance.
Gene spoke. “The crypted phone has once again enabled me to connect to the network. According to the chatter, the Rebels have fought their way into the First Circle through the open gates, and wedged them open with vehicles. On the way they’ve gathered thousands to their cause. They’re headed for this building.”
I wondered if Connor and Bailey were down there fighting. And Laura…
One of the elevators finally thudded to a stop, and the Down arrow flashed on. My first impulse was to jump in, head down and join in the fight. Then I realized that in all the confusion I’d forgotten my original mission.
“I’ve got to find Wickham,” I said to Gene.
“Eliminating Mr. Wickham should not be your primary objective,” Gene said.
I ignored him and instead, pressed Up, and took the elevator back to the tenth floor. Thank God — my HUD started working. Most of the building was still dark, but Gene continued lighting hallways and rooms as I entered and darkening them behind me. I made my way to Wickham’s office. Gene lit it for me, and I stuck my head around the open door. The office was empty. I rushed over to Wickham’s gigantic metal desk, hunting for a weapon.
There was a paper memo on the desktop. I bent down to read it. The title read: ‘Test Results for Psychotropic Nerve Agent XC-5.’ Below was a table full of numbers and a graph. The Y axis of the graph was labeled ‘Death Rate’. The line beside it shot almost vertical.
“Nerve agent?” I said, half to myself.
“It’s extremely effective,” a voice said behind me.
I looked up.
Wickham stood at the office door, holding a small flashlight. Another thug stood beside him, his gun drawn.
“So it’s true — about the Final Solution,” I said.
“Why so surprised?” Wickham said, smiling. “The only reason any citizen has ever been kept alive is to be of use to us. Be thankful you’re one of the few who fall into that category.”
Wickham nodded at the thug, who moved forward, grabbed both my hands in one of his own gigantic ones.
“No more tricks from your little friend,” Wickham said.
The hallway lit up, and a faint glow replaced the blackness outside. The building’s lights were back on.
Wickham glared at me. “Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” I answered him.
The thug started going through my pockets with his free hand. He found the melded card and tossed it to Wickham.
“Where did this come from?” Wickham asked, holding up the card.
I didn’t answer. The thug hauled up on my right arm. I still said nothing. He hauled back his gun to pistol-whip me.
“No,” Wickham said. “I don’t want him injured.”
Wickham turned to me. “I don’t need you to tell me. I have other ways of finding out. Anyway, as you know, we have bigger plans for you.”
There was a commotion somewhere outside, on our floor, followed by shouts and gunfire. The thug accessed his HUD.
“Rebels,” he said. “They’re inside. Coming this way.”
“How did they get past security!” Wickham shouted.
The goon shrugged.
“We’ve got to get him out of here,” Wickham said, nodding at me. “Over there.” He gestured with his head at a private elevator in a far corner of the office. Wickham and his helper dragged me toward it. The gunfire was getting closer. Wickham pressed the Up button. The door slid open. Wickham stepped in and the thug started dragging me inside.
Pounding feet and shouts echoed through the hallway. “There they are!” a voice yelled from outside the office door. A fighter appeared and raised his weapon. The thug let go of me and pulled out his own gun. Both fired. Both were hit and went down. I froze in the confusion. Wickham grabbed me and hauled me inside. Gunfire ricocheted off the bullet-proof door as it slid shut. We traveled up to the very top — the eleventh floor. Wickham dragged me out and down the hall.
“You’ve had it,” I yelled at him. “It’s all over for you.”
“Shut up,” he said, jerking my arm so hard he almost yanked my shoulder out of its socket.
Gene appeared in my HUD. “I believe I have a way to distract him.”
I nodded, not wanting to speak.
“Be ready,” Gene said.
We reached a thick metal door — what looked like the entrance to some kind of bunker. Beside it was a retinal scanner. Wickham clamped one hand on my wrist while he leaned his face into the device to open the door. The thing beeped, but nothing happened.
“Shit,” Wickham said.
He dragged me closer and tried again. Same thing. There was major gunfire happening on the floor below. He tried again several times, each time getting more and more angry.
He turned to me. “It’s you, isn’t it!” he yelled. He pulled the card from his pocket. “You and this abomination.”
He hauled back and pounded on the retinal scanner. For a split second he loosened his grip on my wrist. I twisted away and took off down the hallway. He turned and chased after me. As I ran, I tried the handle of the doors I passed. All were locked. I finally hit one that opened and rushed through it.
Inside was a set of stairs going up. I glanced at the door behind me for some way to jam it shut, but there was nothing. I flew up the stairs. After a couple of flights I reached another door. I pushed through it and cringed at the rush of cooler air. I was on the roof. There was nowhere else to go. Sirens, gunfire and circling choppers echoed in the darkness below as I rushed to the edge and stared down at the panorama of the glittering city.
The melded card was still in Wickham’s pocket. Gene’s image was already fading, but still visible.
“Any ideas?” I asked him.
CHAPTER 39
Two Battles
Seconds later, Wickham burst through the door and onto the roof. He was talking on his HUD. He didn’t approach me, he just stood there smiling. I soon realized why, when the whirring drone of a chopper approached in the distance. A few seconds later, the machine appeared, hovering over us, its blinding searchlight scanning the rooftop, a machine gun mounted on its undercarriage.
The searchlight found Wickham and he waved and pointed in my direction. There was a helipad in the northwest corner. In seconds the chopper would land and a new set of goons would climb out of it and grab me. Once that happened, I was screwed.
My only avenue of escape was the door back down, and Wickham was blocking that. Somehow I had to get him away from it. I had an idea. I stepped up to the very edge of the roof, and stood there, like I was getting ready to jump.
“No!” Wickham screamed.
“Why not?” I yelled back. “So I can spend the next three hundred and eighty years being hacked apart by Vita Aeterna?”
His face fell, as he realized I was right. I glanced down. The Rebel force had filled the square surrounding the building, and was driving toward it. Hundreds of SecureCorp defenders formed a wall protecting it, while a ring of choppers dove at the Rebels, machine-
guns blazing.
As I’d hoped, Wickham rushed toward me. The chopper overhead hovered, its searchlight bathing the roof below my feet in giant pool of white light. Now that the door was clear, I could circle around Wickham and run back through it. But just as I was about to move, the searchlight caught my eyes and I was blinded. Then Wickham was beside me. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. We were both standing on the very edge.
“Make him let go,” Gene’s voice came through my HUD. “Step away from him.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I yelled.
I knew the melded card was still in Wickham’s inside jacket pocket. When he looked away for a second, gesturing orders to the chopper, I reached in with my free hand, fished around, and brought out the card. Wickham grabbed for it with his own free hand, but I had a firm grip; there’s no way he could pry it loose.
He punched me hard in the stomach. My hand opened as I doubled over in pain. The card flipped into the air. It hovered there for a fraction of a second, just beyond the edge of the roof.
Wickham let go of my other wrist and reached out to save the card. He actually managed to grab it out of the air, but he was off balance. Following Gene’s instructions, I jumped back as far as I could away from him. I took a step toward the door.
Gene’s avatar appeared in my HUD. “Take the southeast elevator to the third floor. From there you can climb down the back way.”
Wickham was still dancing on the roof edge, off balance. He flapped his arms at his sides. It looked like he’d finally gotten his footing, when the chopper’s searchlight swung away from me and blasted directly into his eyes, cranked to maximum intensity. The chopper pilot’s expression was a blend of bewilderment and panic as he frantically hauled on the unresponsive controls. The CEO of SecureCorp and head of Vita Aeterna stumbled backwards, blinded by the light.
His left foot slipped and he staggered off the edge, the melded card still in his hand. I peered down at his falling shape. His screams stopped about half way down.
My distraction was broken as the chopper’s searchlight beam began swinging erratically back and forth. I looked up. The machine was pitching from side to side, its main rotor almost touching the ground.
I skirted around the careening chopper and dove for the exit door. Once inside, I stopped and peered around the jam. The machine was rocking violently, the roar of its engines interspersed with the screams of the occupants. The main rotor finally clipped the roof. The whole machine flipped over and the still-turning rotor drove it toward me. I flew down the stairs to the first landing. There was a massive explosion above, and fire licked past the open doorway. Then the only sound was the crackling of flames, and the gunfire and shouting from the square below.
It occurred to me that I still needed a gun. I snuck back up the stairs and poked my head out. The blackened hulk of the chopper lay smoking about ten meters away. The burnt, mangled bodies of a couple of the goons were lying close by. I could see the bulge of a weapon on the belt of one of them. Fighting my nausea, I crept up to the body and touched the weapon. It was still so hot it burnt my fingers.
I circled around the smouldering chopper, ventured to the edge of the roof, and stared down at the ground far below. The dark was still lit up with hundreds of flashes from gunfire. A circle had opened up around Wickham’s sprawling body.
The battle slowed, then stopped altogether, as I guess both sets of fighters were trying to digest what had happened. As I watched, a huge knot of SecureCorp soldiers worked their way to that location, and the crowd around Wickham’s body expanded. A searchlight from one of the choppers swung in my direction. One of the SecureCorp soldiers looked up, spotted me, and pointed. Guns started firing again, this time at me. I jumped back from the roof’s edge. It was time to get out of here.
By now the weapon on the dead goon had cooled off. I grabbed it, ran for the exit door, and flew down the stairs. I located the southeast elevator, and punched the Down button. An eternity seemed to pass as I waited for the doors to open. I got to the third floor and rushed out into the open concourse, hunting for the escape route Gene had described.
I finally spotted it, through the windows on the western wall. A fire escape outside led down into a small grove of trees. There was a window with a latch on it. I pulled on the latch — it was stuck. There was a coffee table and a set of metal chairs across the room. I ran and grabbed the closest chair, turned my face away, and smashed it against the glass. The window shattered. I cleared the shards off the bottom of the frame and climbed onto the fire-escape, praying that there was nobody nearby to hear the racket I’d made. There was still lots of gunfire echoing around, but it was coming from the other side of the building.
I flew down the steps and jumped to the ground, gasping for air. The question now was: where could I go? I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to think. I was effectively behind enemy lines. The SecureCorp defenders stood between me and the Rebels. I no longer had Gene to help me, and I didn’t dare try to get the melded card back, since it would now be surrounded by SecureCorp soldiers. My only option was to search for the gate, and pray that somehow I could get through.
I’d taken a single step when an arm wrapped around my chest from behind, forcing my own arms behind me.
“You thought you could fool me,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “but I saw his body. I saw you on the roof. You lied. You don’t work for the CCE. You work for the government. It was you. You killed Mr. Wickham.”
I recognized the voice.
It was Benny.
I tried to reach for the gun in my belt, but a single giant hand pinned both of mine behind my back. Benny’s free arm wrapped around my neck.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked, barely able to speak.
“Maybe Mr. Wickham’s gone,” Benny said. “but I’m gonna finish what he started. We’re gonna put an end to you all.”
He squeezed. I could hardly breathe.
I figured it was time for honesty. “It’s true,” I said, gasping. “I don’t work for the CCE. But things aren’t the way you think—”
“You government bastards have tried to confuse me before,” he said. “Never again.”
“Believe me,” I said. “I don’t work for the government.”
“You’re lying.” His grip around my neck tightened.
“It was self-defense,” I said. “He was trying to kill me.”
“Yeah?” Benny said. “Too bad he didn’t — time to finish the job.”
He squeezed harder. I was about to black out. He could have killed me instantly. He was hesitating.
I made one last desperate plea. “Benny, I thought you were my friend.”
For a split second his grip loosened. He made a sound like he was choking down a sob. I twisted my right hand free and grabbed my gun.
The grip of his left arm tightened again and he reached his right hand forward trying to grab the gun. I turned it to point behind me. I couldn’t tell where I was firing — I might even hit myself, but I only had one chance. I pulled the trigger.
The blast was deafening. Benny grunted as his body jerked backwards and he let go of me. I jumped away and turned to face him, my gun still drawn. He staggered back a couple of steps, a red blotch soaking across his stomach. Benny looked down, confused. His crude stitches had completely come apart, and a festering wound covered most of his left side. He looked up again, his face twisted in rage, and rushed toward me.
“Benny, no!” I yelled. He kept coming.
I fired again. Once again he wrapped his fingers around my neck. I fired twice more, point blank. He finally collapsed, dragging me to the ground with him, and fell on top of me. Soaked with Benny’s blood, I struggled out from under his motionless body.
☼
I knelt for a second beside my friend. He was still breathing.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sobbing.
His eyes opened and he looked up at me. His breath was coming in gasps.
&nbs
p; “I don’t work for the government,” I pleaded, tears running down my cheeks, praying he could hear me. “I’m going to change things — I promise.”
He blinked, and his body shuddered as the life force left him. He lay still. The shadows and red flashes bleeding through from the battle washed over him. The guy who’d saved my life more than once — who’d protected me and been my friend. How many people had to die for my sake? The worst thing was that I’d never be able explain to him, make him understand.
I couldn’t hang around. I shoved the gun in my belt and took off, trying to figure out how to get back to the gate.
I slunk from shadow to shadow among the glittering, pristine glass towers, feeling like I was floating through some dream world, past block after block of mind-bending wealth and luxury. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of security inside the First Circle. I guess nobody ever expected lowlifes like me to actually make it in. Or maybe they were all off fighting the Rebels.
There was hardly anybody around. Once or twice I saw a silhouette running by a few blocks ahead, or diving into a doorway. I think everybody was cowering indoors. Maybe there’d been some kind of announcement on their HUDs about the Rebels. This was probably the first time the outside world had ever invaded their little cocoon.
After countless wrong turns and backtracks, I breathed easier as the top of the wall became visible in the gaps between the palace-like structures. Minutes later I was within sight of the gate. I hid behind the corner of a nearby building. When I peeked out, my throat tightened. The gate was closed, and the guards were back in their towers, scanning the area, hands on their turreted machine guns. I wished I hadn’t lost the melded card and Gene.
The gunfire in the distance got closer. It seemed to surround me. I wasn’t sure where to run. Anyway, what was the point in running? As far as I knew, the gate was the only way out. I heard a gunshot very close. I took off, running in the direction away from it, glancing behind me as I ran. I was so distracted I almost ran into a group moving up the alley toward the gate.
Vita Aeterna Page 22
