Vampire's Day (Book 2): Zero Model

by Yuri Hamaganov

  “It would be wonderful if I can get home for the weekend, but, just in case, our contract remains in force.”

  “Yes, it’s possible that the contract will come into force,” said Boris, looking at Crocodile. There were no mechanics near, the repair had already been completed and the helicopter was ready to fly. It would be great to fly out of here on that machine, first through the mountains, and then…

  Boris laughed at these ridiculous ideas. To escape on Crocodile, he had to find someone who could fly it. Boris couldn’t, and, most likely, neither could Donahue and Natasha. Where was the pilot? Somewhere here, near him. Why hadn’t they gone? The quarantine must be mandatory for all, and so anyone who made a stop on this base, would be forced to linger here for some time. He wondered what the owner of the toy town was thinking about what was happening. Pleased with it, or not?

  66. The war, which no one knew

  No one has seen this war. No one heard gunfire and engines roar, no one saw fire arrows of ballistic missile warheads, piercing the upper atmosphere and dazzling flashes of nuclear explosions. And yet, it was a war, no less fierce and ruthless than war, to which man is capable.

  On one side of the front were hordes of the great conqueror, whose battle-hardened army terrified the human race back in the days when Pharaohs built the pyramids in honor of themselves. Egyptian kings wanted to keep the memory in this life and to ensure their power in life followed, clearly realizing that this followed life inevitably come, in spite of all their tricks. And often great conqueror’s army provides to Pharaoh his proper place in the pyramid; however, it kills the builders of these cyclopean structures with equal determination.

  Century evolved in the Millennium, great kingdoms were born and died, kings of the Earth continued to build the tombs, and the great conqueror continued his endless campaign. He cruelly mocked naive attempts to exorcise his hordes using prayers and rituals, as previously ruthlessly cracking down his victims. He will not accept surrender - only the complete destruction. It doesn’t matter who was the victim, it doesn’t matter what country, position in society and the possessed - the great conqueror showed striking justice to his enemies, killing beggars and kings.

  Not all surrendered without a fight; they tried to resist the conqueror in ancient times. Initially, when no one knew what enemy, they are dealing with; the resistance was useless and meaningless. But then, when man realized that is killing him, his resistance became stronger and more accurate. On the invading army unleashed first blows a variety of chemical substances, then surgical instruments, and then radiation entered into battle.

  Combination of chemicals has been continuously improved; surgery became more precise, radiation burning soldiers of invisible army. The man studied hard to defend, and now not every invasion of the great conqueror ended with an unconditional victory, as in the old days, and now he often had to retreat from the battlefield, not readily acknowledging defeat. But Cancer, the great conqueror and king of all diseases aren’t going to back down; on the contrary, he only stepped up his offensive, in its own way learning to resist medical progress.

  In this particular battle, one of the many millions that great conqueror leads every day around the world, his opponent was strong, smart and most importantly, well knew the rules of the invisible war. Against cancer used the most modern drugs, insanely expensive and often don’t pass the test series. The best doctors made extremely complex operation; radiation strikes a blow by blow. And yet the great conqueror reaffirmed his greatest glory killer of all time, one after the other breaking all defense lines. Invisible army withstood the blow of drugs, skillfully throwing metastasis overcome surgery and survived even hard radiation - radiotherapy did so often that its further application will kill the patient before cancer will. The victory is here, the enemy fortress is about to fall, a couple more hits and it's all over. Countdown counting the last days.

  And then there was something unprecedented, which has never happened since the great conqueror drove to the grave his first victim - his army met with equal enemy on the battlefield. This unknown enemy extraordinarily reminiscent the army of the great conqueror, and acted in a similar way - quickly penetrated everywhere, causing attacks from all sides. Cancer cells were exposed to total destruction, unknown enemy soldiers found them everywhere, no matter how they camouflaged, and destroyed with a jeweler's precision. And then came the second wave of defenders, like groups of worker ants, who promptly recovery the damaged sectors, erasing all traces of the cancer. And the great conqueror retreated, first time shamefully fled from his positions under the pressure of someone who was stronger.

  Fulfilled combat mission and fully cleanse the metastases, nanomachines continued recovery work - carrier heavily damaged, and in this state unsuitable for further use. Dangerous chemical compounds, in large numbers entered into the body, were dismantled at the atomic level and then used to reconstruct the radiation burned cells. Now carrier’s life isn’t in danger, if nanomachines that provided this life, will always receive the necessary fuel.

  67. Scientific experiment

  She would have to wait for the final results, because there was still a lot of research to do. But Palmer was convinced that the disease had receded. Not only did the first tests suggest it, but there were more obvious signs. The pain was gone.

  She made herself a Zero Model injection yesterday, at ten o'clock, thus becoming the first person to knowingly and voluntarily expose herself to the actions of alien nanomachines. It was easy to make the injection unnoticed by the laboratory personnel – they were all evacuated to the shelter, when it became clear that the infected army was going to assault. Palmer announced that would not go with them, and they weren’t surprised; they knew about her terminal illness, and understood why she saw no reason to worry about the shelling. Chief and his fighters went on the defensive, and Palmer, left alone, prepared for the most important science experiment in her life.

  Turning on the diagnostic machine, the dying woman applied the injection of infected blood into a vein in her left hand. A network of sensors tracked the explosive growth of the nanomachines, rapidly producing copies due to the destruction of blood. But more important were her own feelings, the cold wave that swept over her entire body. Bronson hadn’t mentioned this symptom; but in the midst of battle in the burning warehouse, he probably hadn’t noticed it.

  Palmer wasn’t surprised about that – the other infected received the Zero Model along with heavy, almost fatal wounds, and couldn’t calmly monitor what was happening. In addition, almost all of them were rapidly losing blood at the same time, but she has no bleeding; therefore, the usual lack of fuel for the nanomachines wasn’t a factor. And yet the new structure in her body had already started to work. She could feel unusually fast weight loss. All the other infected had also lost weight, the nanomachines processing adipocytes into something necessary for their survival. Judging by the first analysis, this phenomenon was somehow connected with the exchange of oxygen. It would need to be clarified in the future, if she lived - her emaciated body might not survive this additional weight loss.

  Immediately after the introduction of Z-Model, she injected a powerful nutrient composition used by Air Force pilots. She had used this composition for a long time, and perhaps the energy boost would keep her from exhaustion.

  Surprisingly, despite the weight loss, she felt no pain, just a pleasant feeling of lightness, that Francis called the release. It was possible that it would release her from life entirely, but if so then it would be a pleasant experience, not pain and unconsciousness, which she feared. Her pulse and breathing slowed down, and body temperature dropped. Her heart took a last two beats and stopped.

  Judging by the diagnostic machine, she was unconscious for about three minutes, and cardiac arrest was the last thing she remembered. Now, with the clinical death left behind, her heart was beating very quickly - one hundred and ten beats per minute – and her temperature shot up to forty, her breathing as though she had j
ust finished the marathon. At first, she wanted to bring her temperature down, but then realized that she shouldn’t do that, she shouldn’t do anything.

  All right, this was the normal cycle of change in her body, which had become the new way after the nanomachines transformed it. Body temperature flew to forty-two Celsius but then declined, when she will get fresh blood. And she could handle the heart palpitations and lack of oxygen, using a series of breathing exercises. Now she just had to wait.

  Outside blazing fires, the shots of hundreds of guns and engines roaring merged into a single chorus, and she lay on a medical table with her eyes open, analyzing what was happening. The nanomachines changed her body, transforming it according to some unknown mission. Those who had left the Zero Model on Mars naturally knew why they did it, but she could only make assumptions and would maybe never know why and for what purpose it was done. But, most importantly, she knew right now that with Z-Model she could live forever.

  68. Monopoly

  “Well, what did you decide?”

  Chief didn’t answer immediately. He understood that they had little time and must act, and yet he was afraid to start this fight. The fight would be the most difficult in his life, and he had had fights and battles enough.

  He kept thinking, passing a cigarette to Palmer, who was lying next to him. She happily lit it; such simple pleasures hadn’t been available for a long time. Now she could smoke again, eat normally, and, as she’d recently learned, could reach orgasm with a strong man. The nanomachines took care of that. She was confident that soon she’d be able to get rid of the hated wig; her hair, seemingly killed by radiation, again resumed growth.

  But the cigarette, food, and even sex was inferior to the new infinite bliss, which she experienced with the first blood injection, the same as Chief had told her. Naturally, he couldn’t explain it properly, it needed to be experienced in person - Palmer now understood why the driver attacked his colleagues, understood why the infected were ready to walk into machine gun fire, understood everything that was happening here. Carrier survival wasn’t a priority for the Z-Model, it was much more interested in expansion, for which it hada terrifyingly effective tool - hunger.

  Who was actually the master, dictating the rules: the man with the Z-Model in his blood, or the nanomachines, forcing the carrier to do anything in order to expand the colony?

  Francis, Chief, Pete Anderson – they would all be fine exactly as long as they fed the Zero Model, otherwise all of them would suffer a terrible punishment. Yesterday she had conducted autopsies of several infected, and saw what happened to their brains. The same thing would happen to them, in less than a day without the constant injection. They couldn’t remove this dependence - effective blood substitutes to satisfy the Z-Model don’t exist. Therefore, they were tied to the Zero Model forever – that was the fee for immortality. Greatness couldn’t be obtained for free.

  “I'm waiting for your decision. I fulfilled my part. I have studied the mechanism of Z-Model expansion, and calculated the minimum necessary dose. Only you and I know about it; the key to eternal life is in our hands. The number of our competitors is reduced as the infected rapidly die out. The nanomachines are quickly destroyed in dead bodies, so no one can remove the Z-Model from corpses. We have to get rid of samples in the laboratory and the infected prisoners; I have already destroyed most of my records. A little more and we will become the sole owners of the Z-Model, reliably carried in our veins. In business, it’s called a monopoly. But if we don’t do anything in the near future, our monopoly will suffer an ignominious collapse, and we won’t get anything for our work, except for a bullet in the head. So, have you decided?”

  “We cannot stand alone, Francis, the forces acting against us are too powerful. We need allies. We need our people. My soldiers, your doctors and engineers - perfectly trained personnel, with great experience. Here is my answer - they must come to our side, and immediately. Only with this team do we have a chance.”

  At this point Palmer took a short break for reflection.

  “It will be difficult to convince them to adopt the Z-Model. At least, to convince everyone. I don’t think they will all agree.”

  “I can handle that. To begin with, I will let my men, especially the seriously wounded, talk with Pete. I will demonstrate to them how it works. In the meantime, you do this…”

  69. Elimination of damage

  This latest attack had no chance – the drone spotted a group of infected long before they came to the security zone. They made sure that the small group had no powerful weapons, then the officer ordered that the Bumblebee not be used, giving the pilots a rest.

  Machine guns and mortars opened fire, methodically destroying the infected. There was no firing in response; it seemed they had completely forgotten about using guns. The marines weren’t surprised. They were convinced that, after the fierce night battle, the enemies had lost all capacity for meaningful action and just ran forward, allowing themselves to be shot without any problems. The last mines exploded, the machine guns stopped, and the funeral team started to work again.

  The giant pyre burned incessantly for many hours, as Colonel ordered for more gasoline to be used, eliminating the thousands of corpses in the most effective way - cremation. Here he fully agreed with Palmer - the bodies needed to burn as quickly as possible. Even without the danger of the infection spreading, they didn’t need a lot of corpses lying in the heat near the base.

  Sweating in heavy protective suits, the marines dumped the bodies of men, women and children in the fiery crater. Single shots could periodically be heard, when they found seriously wounded enemies among the dead. A separate team collected captured weapons, which would be destroyed. Bulldozers dumped broken cars in a giant pile. It gradually became a small pyramid, and was then set ablaze with flamethrowers.

  In the meantime, on the base they dealt with the consequences of a night battle. The mobilized civilians, having completed the emergency burials, were directed to dismantle the burnt hangars and recover barbed wire. At the same time, engineers worked at the airport - several rockets had fallen on the runway, leaving small, but deep craters, threatening disaster for any aircraft that tried to land there. Now these craters must be filled with rapidly hardening concrete and closed with steel sheets - the runway should be ready to take aircraft again in the near future.

  On the road to the burnt city there were several black SUVs and a pair of armored cars; a helicopter and reconnaissance drones covered them. The column was moving at low speed, stopping periodically. Richardson ordered the jamming station to be temporarily turned off, enabling the drug lord to use the radio and try to connect with one of his colleagues in the burnt city. There had been recent shooting, as infected clashed with each other in a few large buildings on the outskirts.

  Apparently, that was where a kind of headquarters was located. Finding this place, Colonel wanted to destroy it with an air strike, but changed his mind and gave another order. The drug lord must achieve his own salvation and go to negotiate with the infected. Richardson needed to learn about what was happening, and for this he needed to find someone who had stayed sane.

  The drug lord didn’t argue with this dangerous order, he just demanded a couple of armored vehicles and a helicopter for his guards. He didn’t mind going into the city to find out what was going on. He had no desire to talk with the infected personally; the negotiations would take place on the radio - if Senor Richardson wanted to talk with them, then he could do it himself.

  Sooner or later, this infection would die, and then the drug lord had to re-establish control in the valley. Competitors and former business partners had been destroyed, but the land and part of the harvest survived, so he needed to hurry up, until there were no more other contenders for the throne. In the upcoming fight for the valley Colonel’s assistance would be crucial, and if so, he needed to let Richardson get what he wanted.

  Next to the mobile research complex a tent hospital was installed, and
more than a hundred wounded soldiers and civilians stayed there, helped by Palmer’s men. Observers continued to keep watch on the hangar roof, but the marine platoon, ready to storm the research complex at Colonel’s orders, had been recalled yesterday to the night fight.

  70. Allies

  Chief Bronson knew his men well. There were eighty-four privates and officers, plus twelve technicians, totaling ninety-six, and Bronson had personally selected each of them. When he’d received the offer eight years ago to create and lead the Special Combat Group, that was his main request – that he could personally recruit staff. Knowing his reputation, the customers decided that this was reasonable.

  So Bronson hired his colleagues, most of whom he’d known for more than twenty-five years. Since the SCG tasks would be unusual, he needed more than just trained and experienced professionals. Bronson was looking for people with a particular mindset and personal qualities, which he called the Filibuster. A modern version of pirates, who took to sea robbery under the skull and crossbones, like his distant ancestors, terrifying the Spanish ships and colonies. They shouldn’t just earn a rich life with their weapons, they should enjoy the process.

  Creating the SCG, Chief was determined to turn it into a thriving military company - he hadn’t lost the dream of a private army. The need for military power in large businesses would continue to grow and he must be prepared to offer his services to wealthy customers. Ideal commercial military mechanism,not burdened by ideology and politics, free from overwhelming army bureaucracy, and responsible only for the results - that's what he wanted.