The Tomorrow Heist

by Jack Soren

  Finally, he gave in to his nature, put down his headphones, and headed after the men to try and find out what was going on. As he walked the tight passageway, he nodded to a few fellow crewmen as he passed. He reached the short T in the passageway that led to the captain’s quarters. Nashida swallowed thickly and eased up to the door. Then he did what he was good at. He listened.

  “How can it mean nothing?” the captain said.

  “You have your orders, Captain. I suggest you concentrate on them and stop allowing yourself to be distracted,” the shadow said.

  “I still don’t even know where these orders come from!”

  “You do not need to know, Captain. Your job is to follow them. I can trust you to do that, correct?”

  “Of course! In over twenty years, I have never disobeyed an order. But I’ve never had an order like this.”

  “There is still a possibility you won’t have to fire. Your concerns could all be for nothing.”

  “Or I could have to fire on a civilian target.”

  “It’s not a civilian target. It’s a Japanese government target.”

  “Which arm of the government? I don’t even know what agency you work for!”

  “Enough!” The shadow yelled so loud, Nashida jerked his head back from the door for a moment.

  “Fine,” the captain finally said.

  “Just follow your orders and stop asking so many questions. If the sensors don’t detect an algae bloom by 5:15 P.M., fire the torpedo. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly,” the captain said, his voice laced with disgust.

  A chair scraped the floor, and Nashida moved away from the door. A moment later, the shadow came out, mumbling to himself, and headed for his quarters. Nashida made his way back to the bridge.

  “Where were you?” one of the navigators asked when he returned to his station.

  “Nowhere,” Nashida said. He performed his duties, listening intently, but now he couldn’t take his eyes off the readings of the station a few feet away—­the one monitoring the sensors.

  Or off the torpedo’s firing controls.

  4:45 P.M.

  TATSU HAD TO see her one last time.

  She entered the palatial residence to classical music blasting. She moved into the huge drawing room, where the music was coming from, and shut it off. Her breath caught as she turned around. Umi was in the bed against the wall where Nagura’s machines sat. Lights still flickered slowly on the displays.

  Tatsu stepped to the console and saw that the main screen was blinking something.

  Sōsa kanryō. Operation complete.

  She’d done it. She’d actually gone through with it.

  Tatsu moved to the side of the bed. Umi looked so small and frail laying there. She not only looked her age for the first time since Tatsu had known her, but she looked even older. Tatsu reached out and gently touched the side of Umi’s neck with two fingers. No pulse. She was gone. Tatsu leaned forward and gently kissed her wrinkled cheek.

  “Good-­bye, Obasan,” she said through tears. Whatever motivations there had been in life didn’t matter now.

  Tatsu was doing something good, now. She had a long way to go to make up for all the bad, but at least she had started. She left the residence and headed for the hatch to the escape pods. She had to be ready.

  In case anyone got out of this alive.

  Chapter Thirty-­seven

  4:47 P.M.

  JONATHAN STOOD OUTSIDE the base of the tower, machine gun at the ready. He was scanning the trees, trying to spot Mikawa for Lew and Maggie. Lew was fifty meters to the left, leaning on a tree. He’d already been knocked through the air twice, and each time he got up more slowly. Maggie was twenty meters out right in front of Jonathan, watching him for signals. She’d dodged Mikawa’s attacks so far, but he’d jumped away again, and they had no idea where his next attack would come from. Something came running out of the doors beside Jonathan, and he quickly raised the gun toward it. At the last second, he realized it was Per and refrained from firing.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Jonathan said, returning his attention to the field in front of him. He thought he saw metal flash up above one of the trees, but then he realized it was another drone falling. He pointed, and Maggie sidestepped just as the drone slammed to the ground, kicking up dirt.

  “Things have changed,” Per said. “You’ve only got a few minutes.”

  “What? Why?”

  Per told him about Umi’s confession, the torpedo, and the loss of their sub as fast as he could.

  “Jesus, you’re nothing but good news, aren’t you?” Jonathan had his own bad news, though, and brought Per up to speed.

  “You’re trying to get his head?” Per said.

  “That was the plan, but it’s not working out so well.”

  “This is a valiant endeavor, Jonathan, but you simply don’t have time. If we don’t leave immediately, we won’t be able to.”

  “Why not?” Jonathan asked.

  “If the virus launches, there won’t be any escape pods left. We need to leave before 5:15 P.M.”

  “Right. And Mikawa knows that, so . . .” Jonathan stepped out farther from the building and looked up. Sure enough, there was Mikawa, the light reflecting off his metallic body. He was climbing the outside of the tower.

  “He’s on the tower!” Jonathan shouted, pointing up for Maggie and Lew. “He’s trying to get to the escape pods!” He raised his gun, but Per knocked it down. “What are you doing?”

  “Let him climb. We can run up the stairs and beat him. We need to be up near the escape pods anyway. And from what you’ve said, it’s going to be vastly easier to fight him in close quarters than out here where he can keep striking and jumping away.”

  “Shit, you’re right,” Jonathan said. He called Lew and Maggie in. After talking Lew out of trying to climb up after Mikawa, they grabbed Reese, who was still asleep, and headed up the stairs.

  “Hang on!” Lew shouted. He gave Reese to Maggie and ran around the corner.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Maggie asked, putting Reese over her shoulder.

  A minute later, Lew returned with a tied-­up guard over each shoulder. One was still out cold, but one had come around and wouldn’t shut up.

  “You want another club to the head?” Lew asked. The guard shut up. “That’s what I thought. Now, let’s go.” Jonathan shook his head, and they all headed up the stairs as fast as they could.

  They reached the visitor center, and it quickly became obvious they weren’t going to be able to get up the ladder and through the hatch with the exo suits on. With little choice, Maggie and Lew took them off, and they all climbed up, handing up the guards and Reese.

  The area had a low ceiling and much less floor space compared to the other areas since it was close to the top of the sphere. There were no windows and, as was the style of Ashita, all the walls, which curved around the room, were white. Against one wall were twelve escape pods, each looking like a bright orange space capsule, the color making them easily identifiable when they reached the surface. Tatsu had the door to one of them open and was fiddling with the controls.

  Jonathan looked inside and was surprised how roomy they were. They were only going to need about two pods to get out. And with little time left, Jonathan convinced them to launch one pod right away. They put the guards and Reese inside.

  “So how do you launch these things,” Lew asked.

  “I’ve already run the power-­up diagnostics and primed the oxygen tanks. Once the power-­up completes, you just shut the door, secure this latch, and hit the red launch button,” Tatsu said.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” she said. “But with Reese out and them tied up, somebody has to go with them.”

  “Get in,” Jonathan said to Tatsu.


  “Me?” Tatsu said.

  “There’s no time to argue,” Jonathan said. “If this doesn’t work, between you and Reese, you can give the authorities enough data to fight this thing.”

  Tatsu stepped into the pod and turned around.

  “Oh, and here,” Jonathan said, handing Tatsu the removed implants. “This will help them find you.”

  “If you see a guy name Fahd, kick him in the nards for me,” Lew said before she shut the door.

  Tatsu quickly explained how the virus would pump up from the lab on the main floor in large green pipes and fill the remaining escape pods just before launch time if they didn’t stop it.

  They stood back and, after hearing the door latch, a glass enclosure slid down from the ceiling. It quickly filled with water, and, with a whoosh!, the pod shot up and out of Ashita. The opening in the ceiling slid shut, the water drained out, then the glass rose again. It took less than a minute, and there was no sign the pod had ever been there.

  Jonathan, Lew, Maggie, and Per turned and looked at each other. It was silent except for the chunk-­scrape, chunk-­scrape, chunk-­scrape of Mikawa climbing up toward them.

  “Any ideas?” Jonathan said.

  “Cut the pipes that feed the virus up here. It’ll buy us about fifteen minutes,” Maggie said. “Of course, we have no idea if the virus has to be ingested. If it’s also airborne . . .”

  “If anyone wants out, take a pod and go. No judgments,” Jonathan said.

  Nobody spoke.

  “I saw an axe in the fire-­hose case in the visitor center,” Per said.

  “I’ll help,” Lew said.

  Mikawa wasn’t getting off Ashita in one piece.

  And in all likelihood, neither was anybody else.

  4:57 P.M.

  “IF THERE’S ANYTHING in this pipe, it’s a pretty good bet we’re both about to get our telsmears shortened,” Lew said, getting ready to hack at the only green pipe that ran beneath the escape pods.

  “Telomeres,” Per said. “And I know that you know the difference.”

  Lew pretended he didn’t hear Per and released his frustration by hacking into the PVC. It only took a few whacks before the pipe was severed about three feet above the floor.

  “One supervillain plan disabled,” Lew said, bending the pipe sticking out of the floor away from the piece leading to the pods, in case the flow still came and at a good clip.

  “Why do you do that, Lew?” Per asked.

  “Do what?” Lew asked, wedging the pipe behind some others so it would spew anything that came up toward the elevators.

  “Pretend that you are . . . not dumb, but that you get details wrong. When clearly you do not.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lew said, holding the axe head up between them. “But I’ve got a real fucking dislike for robot parts right now, so maybe you want to get away from me.”

  Per stared at him a little longer, tilting his head a little and sucking at his teeth.

  “As you wish.”

  “I wish.”

  5:03 P.M.

  JONATHAN WINCED AS Maggie gently wrapped gauze around the temporary splint she had rigged up for his wrist. They were alone up in the annex where the escape pods were, standing against the far wall. Jonathan, a head taller than Maggie, looked down at her while she worked on his wrist. She pulled the gauze tight, and he sucked air through his teeth.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Maggie said, without looking up from her operation.

  “Don’t be so rough,” Jonathan said. He leaned down and inhaled the scent coming from her hair. Maggie abruptly looked up.

  “Did you just smell my hair?”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous. I just sniffled. Lotta pollen down here,” Jonathan said.

  “Uh-­huh,” Maggie said. She had been about to say something else, but Jonathan would never know what that was. A surprise even to him, he leaned down and kissed Maggie. She responded immediately this time, dropping the gauze and reaching her arms up around Jonathan’s neck.

  Finally, regretfully, he pulled himself away from her mouth. Her head moved with him at first, but eventually she let him break away. Her arms were still around his neck as she leaned back against the wall.

  “This is not a good use of our final moments, Mr. Hall,” Maggie said quietly.

  “I think it’s a fine use, Ms. Reynolds,” Jonathan said. He tried to kiss her again, but she leaned away. Jonathan laughed and puffed a sigh that he, at least logically, agreed with her. He stood up, albeit a little awkwardly, so she could finish wrapping his wrist. The operation was completed in silence though they both seemed unable to get the smiles off their faces.

  “There. Good as new,” Maggie said.

  They heard someone coming up the ladder and parted completely.

  “To be continued,” Jonathan said.

  “Count on it,” Maggie said, as he turned and walked toward the hatch, examining his patched-­up wrist.

  A second later, the entire wall behind Maggie collapsed on her.

  5:06 P.M.

  JONATHAN WAS ON the ground. He shook off the disorientation and turned to see what had hit him. A massive hunk of the wall had collapsed into the room. Then he saw some blond hair and bloodied hands sticking out from under the rubble.

  “Mag—­” Jonathan didn’t get to finish. Mikawa, dented and seeming angry, despite his unmoving facial features, stood in the hole he had just kicked in the wall, the bright light behind him silhouetting his artificial form.

  Jonathan turned to yell for help and saw Per halfway out of the hatch.

  “Lew! It’s Mikawa! He’s broken through the wall!” Per yelled down into the hole before he climbed up and ran to Jonathan’s side. He helped him up as Mikawa stepped into the room. They were between him and what he wanted—­escape.

  “Lew, get up here!” Jonathan shouted, taking up a position beside Per. They had to keep him from getting to the pods.

  Maggie started groaning and moving. She coughed blood onto the ground as she tried to raise her head and get up, but there was too much rubble on her. Then Mikawa put his foot on the rubble lying on Maggie’s back, and she screamed.

  “Out of my way,” Mikawa said, the gears and pulleys in his leg tightening, and he leaned forward, obviously putting more weight on his foot to send his point home. Maggie screamed again.

  “I’ll fucking tear you apart, tin man,” Jonathan said, but he knew he was helpless.

  “Jonathan. He’ll kill her,” Per said. Jonathan flexed his good hand in frustration, desperate for any other solution besides letting this thing get what it wanted. But there wasn’t any. And Mikawa knew it.

  “Get off her, and I’ll move,” Jonathan said. “Back up and let me help her, and you can have whatever you want.”

  Mikawa stared at him with his optics, tiny motors in various parts of him whirring and adjusting. Then, to Jonathan’s surprise, he complied. The easing of pressure caused Maggie just as much pain, as she screamed again when he removed his weight.

  “I knew love, once. It’s a weakness. A disease. Even now, it’s killing you. You’ll pull her aside, and I’ll leave this tomb. And you? You’ll have one more moment—­if she survives—­before a torpedo pulls you apart, like dust in a high wind. Here, save her. You’re all dying anyways.”

  As Mikawa rambled on, Jonathan and Per carefully moved rubble off Maggie and, being as gentle as they could, dragged her to the side, a streak of blood painting the floor behind her.

  Then Maggie closed her eyes and was silent.

  “Maggie. Maggie!”

  “You see?” Mikawa said, moving into the room again. “Wasted. You could have run. The logical thing would have been to run for an escape pod. Your emotions betrayed you.”

  Jonathan stared at Maggie’s unmoving body as he clawed a
t the rubble-­strewn ground with both hands, ignoring the pain from his damaged wrist. Using it, really. He panted, taking deep breaths as his exhales blew dust clouds up from the floor. He wasn’t sure if he was fighting for control or bracing himself for the loss of it, not that it mattered. He grabbed a hunk of stone in his good hand and raised himself, but before he could launch himself onto Mikawa, he was frozen where he stood by what he saw. Behind the monster, dressed in his exo-­suit, was Lew, a look in his eye Jonathan had only ever seen once before.

  “Betray this, fucker!” Lew grabbed Mikawa from behind and heaved them both out through the hole he’d come in.

  “LEW!”

  5:11 P.M.

  LEW AND MIKAWA slammed into the walkway halfway down the tower like a sock filled with nickels hitting a prison rat, pieces of Mikawa spraying into the air. Lew, riding Mikawa down, had taken the brunt in his exo suit, but it could only do so much.

  He rolled off the robot and fought to get to his feet. He could taste blood, and his leg was in agony, but the exo suit had kept him together. Upright, he shook off the ringing in his ears and turned around. Mikawa was on his feet too, but he’d seen better days. His left hand was still on the ground, an eight-­inch equivalent of an ulna bone sticking out of its wrist. His right foot was twisted outward, and his head seemed to be lolling to one side.

  Part of Lew wanted to turn and run. He knew time was ticking down, and they only had minutes before the torpedo took Ashita off the map, but his mission wasn’t complete. Lew rolled his neck and raised his fists. If robots could look surprised, Mikawa was flabbergasted.

  “Let’s go, Pinocchio,” Lew said.

  “I wish is wasn’t you, Lew. I genuinely liked you. Of all the humans I’ve met, you’re the most—­”