Thursday Midnight

by Zachry Wheeler

  Maintain image.

  With the silver seal of NExUS beneath him, he focused on the main camera as the world held its breath.

  “My name is Jonas.”

  The room erupted with gasps and bellows.

  Agent Jemison surged forward with palms outstretched, motioning for restraint. The mob heeded under protest and quelled the uproar. Jemison backed away and lowered her hands, yielding the stage once more. Korovin emerged from the hallway and settled beside the platform.

  Jonas bowed his head and swallowed the hatred of the world in front of him. There would always be hatred, if not for him, then for someone else. In that moment, he realized that conflict is default. Nature is violence. When seeking the peace between wars, you are fighting against yourself. But it’s the only fight that matters.

  “We share a horrid past,” Jonas said, returning his gaze to the crowd. “When I look at the faces before me, I cannot help but feel a sickness inside my stomach. Not for what you represent, but for what I used to. I stand before you not as a former enemy, but as a repentant partner. I have wanted to have this conversation for as long as I can remember, and it pains me to admit that now is not the time. We have more important matters to discuss.”

  Jonas glanced at Jemison, who returned a thin smile. His gaze wandered the sea of faces, many of which had softened to absorb his words. “I know the butcher that you call the Axeman. His name is Tobias. I grew up with him. I trained with him. We both worked as transients. When I defected, he managed to escape the final invasions. His survival was as jarring to me as it was to you. And his actions have been truly shocking.

  “Over the last several years, this man has organized an underground movement. He created a rot in the system, a cancer that threatens the very foundation of the world we know and share. The war we fight is no longer between our former selves. Our battle is between stability and chaos. His twisted ideas have poisoned the minds of our brothers and sisters. This crusade must be stomped out of existence. And we need your help to do so.”

  Jonas lowered his gaze to the podium, building courage for the next words. Much to his surprise, a sullen silence had enveloped the room. The world was listening. With a final breath, he locked his gaze to the main camera.

  “The last several days have been a harrowing ordeal for all of us. Please remember that. We have fought tirelessly to restore the system you depend on, but only recently has the rot revealed its depth. With the aid of an unforeseen traitor, the Axeman has escaped custody.”

  The chamber erupted.

  Arms flailed as a violent roar consumed the space.

  Jonas recoiled from the podium.

  Jemison leapt forward once again. She shouted over the chaos in a futile effort to restore decorum. Guards stiffened at their posts as a riot brewed. As the room reached a fever pitch, Jonas glowered and surged up to the microphone.

  “Shut the fuck up!” he said.

  The shout boomed through the chamber, cutting through the madness like a blade through grass. The mob shuddered. Shouts became whimpers. The world quieted and turned its collective fright to the human.

  Jonas heaved with indignation as he raked a glare over the crowd. “You’re better than this. You’re better than him. And he’s winning. The police won’t help you. NExUS won’t help you. This is something we tackle together.” He locked a resolute gaze to the camera. “We need to find this man, and we need to work as one.”

  For the first time, Jonas glanced around a chamber filled with receptive faces. A lingering chagrin had finally waned, and his anger waned with it. He paused for a needed breath, then regained his composure.

  “He can’t have this world,” he said. “It’s not his to take. It’s ours, and I plan to fight for it.”

  Smiles and nods responded.

  Jonas returned the smile, then yielded the podium back to Jemison.

  She patted his shoulder as they traded places.

  “The primary targets are on your screen,” Jemison said. Monitors to either side of the stage flickered to life, showing images of the fugitives. “Tobias is a mark 26 and has likely altered his appearance. Yulia Razin is a NExUS defector who organized the escape. They hijacked a Raven ship and fled the city during the incursion. If you have any information as to their whereabouts, please contact the number provided. And with that, I open the room to questions.”

  Shouts and hands lifted from the crowd.

  Jemison selected one. “Yes.”

  “Do we have any casualty estimates?”

  “Unfortunately no. Given the nature of the attacks, that will take some time to assess. Who else?”

  Another round of shouts and hands.

  Another selection. “Yes.”

  “Is martial law being considered at this point?”

  “It has yet to enter the discussion, but Moscow will make that decision. Who else?”

  Another round of shouts and hands.

  Another selection. “Yes.”

  A suited woman stood from the mass. “This question is for Jonas.”

  Jemison nodded and yielded the podium.

  Jonas switched places and gestured to continue, but the reporter seemed conflicted. She frowned and clenched her lips, as if barring the words from leaving her throat.

  “Sir, um ... are you familiar with the Invaders Forum?”

  A sudden chill gripped his spine as numerous reporters turned to the woman. His jaw slacked as adrenaline flooded his body. With the eyes of the world braced for an answer, he could only offer his cruel and open honesty.

  Maintain image. “Yes.”

  “And you are aware that a particular thread has amassed an unprecedented following over the last week?”

  Maintain image. “Yes.”

  Jemison turned a worried gaze to Korovin offstage.

  “Sir, this thread was posted by an individual who claims to have averted a worldwide plague two years ago.”

  Murmurs snaked through the crowd.

  Korovin locked a widened gaze onto Jonas.

  “This person also claims to be a mortal in hiding, one of many, and the posts have been in direct congruence with the Axeman murders.”

  The murmurs elevated.

  With nowhere to hide and the truth closing in, he closed his eyes and confessed without saying a single word.

  “Sir, are you a—”

  “Stop. Just, stop.”

  Jonas dropped his gaze to the podium as a silent shock encircled the room. The walls closed around him, crushing his clout with every ticking second. He glanced at Jemison through welling eyes, but she could only offer confusion in return. His chin quivered as he lifted his eyes to the rattled crowd. The creep of realization began to turn solemn faces into tangles of disgust.

  A vision of Anna stood among them.

  Her utter horror matched his own.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to her, then hurried off stage.

  CHAPTER 18

  Riled citizens pushed and shoved inside the main lobby of Zenit Tower, filling the space with a noxious uproar. They shook fists and spat vulgarities as security guards struggled to maintain order. Troops in riot gear flooded through the stairwells to shore up defenses. Stun batons crackled inside the chaos, many unleashing jolts of electricity into the guts of frenzied protesters.

  Jonas emerged from the briefing room hallway, flanked by Korovin, Jemison, and several uniformed officers.

  The roar intensified.

  The crowd hurled insults along with whatever random items they could find. Bottles and magazines sailed through the air, striking the shields of riot officers. Some found their target, forcing Jonas to duck for cover. Korovin and Jemison guided him to the safety of a waiting elevator. The clamor dulled behind the closing doors and faded into nothing as the car rose through the tower.

  Jemison closed her eyes for the trip, content to pass the time inside her own world. The current predicament could wait until she rekindled some composure. Korovin stared at the tarnished doors whi
le heaving with animus, careful not to catch the reflection of the human standing behind him. Jonas trembled with dread. His mouth opened several times to voice remorse, only to swallow the words into his gut. All the same, he had to try.

  “I—”

  Korovin whipped around, grabbed Jonas by the lapels, and slammed his back against the wall. The impact cracked the panel and forced the air from his lungs, causing him to gasp and wheeze. Korovin seared his anger into the human while pinning him with shaking fists. Jonas raised his palms into the air, pleading for clemency. The elevator dinged soon after and the agent released his grip. Jonas stumbled into a corner, using his forearm to break the fall. Korovin sneered and vacated the car. Jemison eyed the human and gestured to follow. Jonas heeded the command and stepped into the fifth floor lobby with Jemison in tow.

  All activity came to an abrupt stop as they emerged from the elevator. A tense silence infected the room, broken only by the pings of scan plates. Jonas kept his head lowered as resentful stares followed him through the lobby. An officer spat on his cheek as he passed, prompting Jemison to shove him aside. Jonas flinched at the attack, but forced himself to remain submissive. He waited until they passed through the holding area and into the hallway before wiping the dollop on a sleeve. With his fate in the balance, compliance became his primary survival tool.

  Korovin guided them towards his rear office, picking up a pair of trusted guards along the way. He stationed them outside and locked the door behind them, blinding the bitter stares of several officers lining the hallway.

  Jonas shuffled to the windows, placing a fair amount of distance between him and the agents. Jemison crossed her arms and paced the room in silence. Korovin hooked Jonas’s backpack from a side chair and tossed it onto his desk. He unzipped the main compartment and dumped the contents onto the surface. Frantic hands sifted through clothing and toiletries. Another shake of the pack uncovered a soft rattle. The agent retrieved a tin of breath mints from a side pocket. He popped the lid, gave it a quick stir, then plucked a blue mint and held it up to Jonas. His anger asked the question without saying a word.

  Jonas frowned and nodded.

  Korovin gnashed his teeth and threw the tin against the wall, showering the mints onto the floor.

  Jonas and Jemison flinched in unison.

  Korovin dropped into his battered chair and rubbed his forehead before slamming a fist onto the desk. A pageant for Mae more than anything, as secrets require maintenance.

  Jonas lowered his gaze to the streets where rioters had surrounded the building. The flashes of stun batons ripped through the night. Several officers had resorted to physical violence, doing whatever it took to restore order. The crowd parted to reveal a small patch of black asphalt. Jonas eyed the break as a chill swept across his skin. His mind conjured Mara within it, her eyes pleading for mercy as blood poured from her nose and mouth. He pressed a palm to the window as the mob closed around her, silencing her voice forever.

  Korovin stared into the dark abyss as his mind weighed the impending fallout. A blood-soaked history had returned to the fold, burdening his conscience. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he said with a raspy tone.

  Jonas paused to choose his words. “I wasn’t going to lie to them.”

  “To them?” Jemison said. “You lied to us.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing,” Korovin said. “We put you in front of the goddamn world, only to learn about your forum commotion when they did.”

  “You undercut us,” Jemison said, shaking her head.

  “That wasn’t my intent.”

  “And now NExUS appears incompetent. You murdered our public trust with a single fucking blink.”

  Jonas stammered in response.

  “So let’s hear it. All of it, right now. What the fuck have you been doing in the dark web?”

  Jonas locked eyes with Mae as years of calculated effort unraveled inside his chest. After a heavy pause, he released it all with a fluttering exhale. “When I defected and left the city, I wasn’t the only one. I had organized a transient coup with my family and other like-minded members.” He turned to Korovin. “The coordinates I gave you were real, but I had evacuated a third of the remnant population. They escaped in secret while you slaughtered the rest. We had to sell the story that I betrayed humanity, converted, and exposed the remnants to end the war. Otherwise, we would have never been able to execute the next phase.”

  “Next phase?” Jemison said.

  “PR,” Jonas said with a flat tone. “We wanted to change your minds about us. Even now, we want to move forward, together, with choice and peace. This world is our home too. We want to contribute to the society you built, and it doesn’t take a genius to understand what we bring to the table.”

  Jemison sighed. “Procreation.”

  Jonas pointed in affirmation. “Cloning, gene editing, the entire lot. Even natural.”

  “Everything we can’t.”

  “Overpopulation,” Korovin said, drawing their gazes. “That’s your gift to the world.” He rose from the chair and approached Jonas with a menacing stride. “Humanity was an unchecked plague on this planet, a plague that we cured at great expense.” The agent halted face-to-face. “A plague that we will never allow to return.”

  “Look around, agent. The ones you are losing right now are the ones who will never return.”

  Korovin exhaled a measured breath while retaining eye contact. “Do you remember the agreement we made before you left the city?”

  “Yes.”

  “We had a stipulation.”

  “Yes.”

  The agent hardened his tone. “You are going to give me the coordinates of all the remaining colonies.”

  Jonas mirrored the resolve. “No. No I’m not.”

  A pounding at the door broke the standoff.

  “Agent Korovin,” said a voice from the other side.

  “It’s Fletcher.” Jemison hurried to the door. She opened it and gestured to the guards, allowing him to enter.

  “What is it?” Korovin said.

  “Confirmed sighting,” Fletcher said while trying to catch his breath. “A climber caught sight north of Mount Rainier. Satellite confirms a cloak at mid-slope.”

  Jemison ruffled her brow. “Why the hell would they—” The realization stole her breath. She whipped a wide-eyed gaze to Korovin.

  “Get on the horn,” he said and launched into immediate action. “Scramble another Raven. Get it here, now. Drop cons and me on the roof.”

  Jemison nodded and rushed out of the room.

  “Fletcher, lock down seven and prep for evac. Essential personnel only. Not a damn word to anyone under faction clearance, understood?”

  “Yes sir,” he said, then darted away.

  “Wha—what’s going on?” Jonas said.

  “You’re coming with me,” Korovin said, then grabbed his arm and yanked him into a run. The agent motioned to the guards, who leapt into a sprint and followed them down the hallway.

  * * *

  A swift breeze swept across the landing pad atop Zenit Tower. The evening air was brisk and fragrant, as if standing at the edge of a mountain lake. Bands of red light encircled the platform, infecting the roof with a sinister glow. Beacon lights flashed at the spires of surrounding towers, punching through a hanging mist. A muted roar rose from the streets as riots continued to plague the city.

  The two guards stood watch at the access gate, a small structure that housed a stairwell and enough standing room to escape the rain. Korovin and Jonas stood at the edge of the platform, waiting for the Raven under a veil of silence. The agent grabbed his phone to check the time.

  2:42 a.m.

  He tapped his inbox and scrolled through a plethora of unanswered messages, mostly from Cheryl. One caught his attention, a notification from the Juneau airfield. A reluctant tap opened several snapshots from the surveyor drone. He swiped through the kitchen, the living room, the sub-level, then came to
a stop on Doren’s remains. A peculiar sense of loss floated through his mind, but the moment was fleeting. He eyed Jonas with a brief flicker of remorse, then returned the device to his pocket.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jonas said.

  Korovin glared at the human before responding. “We’re going to the Rainier Vault.”

  “The seed facility? Why there?”

  “Because seeds aren’t the only thing we store there.”

  Jonas narrowed his eyes.

  “Do you know what an SFB is?”

  “SFB ...” Jonas paused for thought. “Solar Fusion Bomb. The device that ended the Rogue Revolts back in the early days of the Eternal Age.”

  “You know your history. Very good.”

  “But it was never used. Got retired and destroyed.”

  Korovin shook his head. “That’s what we told the public. NExUS decided to expand the program after the Coalition surrendered. Top secret, mass production, covert stock, the whole shebang. They continued to improve the device, even developed breach tech that could penetrate dime mines. The bombs went from army killers to city killers. Only the upper tiers knew of their existence.”

  “Like Razin.”

  Korovin sighed and nodded. “If it’s not obvious by now, your friend’s intentions are far more nefarious than concerts and beach parties.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “The public would beg to differ.”

  Jonas sneered in response. “So why the show? Why not just steal them outright?”

  Korovin huffed into a grumble. “Steal weapons of mass destruction from one of the most fortified places on Earth? You try it. Let me know how that goes.”

  Jonas frowned and bowed his head.

  “You don’t just reach in and get the honey. You smoke out the hive first.”

  The hum of an approaching Raven ship broke through the wailing breeze. Agent Jemison burst through the access door, yanking the guards to attention. They followed her as she bounded up to the platform. She trotted to a stop beside Korovin and paused to catch her breath.

  “En route,” she said before tuning in to the background hum. “Obviously.” She eyed Jonas, then turned to Korovin, voicing her concern without saying a word.