by Nat Kozinn
I do my best impression of Victor’s acrobatic dodging moves from when we fought the Regenerator. I’m much faster and more agile than I was when I tried this the first time and quickly become a blur of somersaults, back flips, and jumps. I start moving my dance routine towards William, who fires five shots that whiz by me. Then he holds his fire, keeping his gun trained on me. I crouch and prepare to cover the rest of the ground between us in a single leap.
As I am about to jump, William fires. The bullet tears through my right knee, shattering my kneecap and severing my ACL, PCL, MCL, and causing massive muscle damage. My jump turns into an awkward, off-kilter dive that sends me to the floor. I land and immediately start rolling horizontally. A bullet lands right next to where my head was.
I keep rolling, taking refuge behind a wooden desk, but William doesn’t shoot again. Why is he holding his fire? I remember that the Dragunov sniper rifle has a ten-round clip from when I looked it up on think.Net. I quickly count the shots. There’s the one in my chest, then five more that missed me during my dance, the bullet that tore through my knee, and then the one that just missed my head. He’s got two shots left. No wonder he’s being judicious. I need to get him to use those last two shots.
My chance comes when one of his flash bangs lands a few feet away. My ears are still protected from the fluid in my tympanic cavity, and I close my eyes to withstand the flash. He doesn’t know these things though. I stumble out from behind the desk. The stumble is only half-acted. My right leg is in rough shape. I contort my face so I look confused and make my eyes look unfocused, but I see William clearly. As soon as his finger squeezes the trigger, I hit the deck, and the bullet flies over me. As I get up, I pick up a small piece of concrete off the floor. William squeezes the trigger again. He has a clear shot at my head. I hold up the concrete to stop the bullet. It hits with enough force to smash the concrete chunk into my face, but that just hurts my pride.
William releases the clip from the gun and reaches for another in his belt. I have to end this now. I try to run, but my right leg is too damaged. I drop to all fours, which takes the weight off my leg, and then I charge. I look like a lion closing in on his prey.
William manages to get the clip into the gun, but before he can cock it, I rip the rifle from his hands. I snap the gun in half like a twig and toss the parts aside. William responds by pulling out a six-inch long combat knife from his belt.
“Really?” I ask.
I stand there and let him plunge the knife into my side. I regret my arrogance as soon as the blade goes in. William knows what he’s doing, and the blade cuts deep enough to nick my left kidney. He twists the knife as he pulls it, which wreaks further havoc on my insides.
He tries to stab again, only this time I grab his arm by the wrist. This is the arm I broke in our first fight. I can feel a brace under his shirt. I squeeze, re-breaking his radius and ulna bones, causing him to drop the knife.
“It’s over. I win. Don’t make me hurt you more,” I growl.
William doesn’t listen. He winds up for a roundhouse kick to my injured kidney. I punch down on his leg as it travels through the air, shattering his shin. He drops to the floor, crying out in pain, and then finally starts talking. I have to drain the fluid out of my ears so I can hear what he’s saying.
“You’re winning, but I’ve still got a comeback in me,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I demand. “What were the “X”s on the map?”
“Do you know why Khan wants me dead? It’s because I’m the only one who can link him to what’s about to happen. Call it the opening shot.”
William puts his hand on his belt and pushes a button. I try to leap away, but the massive explosion brings the entire warehouse down on top of us.
33
Log of notable Nita/Ultracorps Activity Week 224
No chance to investigate Ultracorps activity. Busy aiding Gavin Stillman with Governor Khan and Different serial killer. Hoping he will return favor by helping me investigate Nita.
A cacophony turns to stillness as all of Ben’s many think.Net calls come to a rapid end. Hundreds of voices are snuffed silent in an instant. He had been lost in a mental world, using his fake accounts to place calls to his other phony accounts, thereby exceeding the capacity of the Telepaths working the local think.Net node and making it impossible for anyone else in the area to use the system. But now the many voices in his head have turned back to one as he is cut off from think.Net. It is a jarring experience. As soon as his brain processes that it once again inhabits actual reality, Ben takes stock of his surroundings. He sees the warehouse that Gavin entered to deliver some vigilante justice. The building has been redecorated in a somewhat radical fashion, as it is now collapsed and on fire.
Ben is hit by an acute twinge of concern for Gavin’s well being. It’s been a while since he felt something like that. Ben climbs down from his rooftop overlook wondering what he could possibly do to find Gavin in the rubble, and also wondering what he could do to dig the massive boy out if he does locate him. He’s spared from confronting his own impotence when Gavin pulls himself up out of the rubble. The boy is bleeding in several places and one of his legs is mangled, but he’s alive and Ben is relieved.
“I guess you won. Congratulations?” Ben yells quasi-sarcastically to Gavin, covering up his flirtation with human emotion.
“We’ve got to go, now!” Gavin screams in response.
“Go where? Can you even walk on that leg?”
Gavin’s answer is bolting next to Ben in the blink of an eye. Gavin gets down on all fours and throws Ben on his back like a rag doll. Ben has never ridden a horse before, but from what he has seen in movies, all he’s missing is a saddle. The newly gigantic-sized Gavin probably weighs as much as a small equine, though the proportions are a bit off. Gavin breaks into a clumsy gallop; he’s only using three of his limbs as his mutilated leg is all but useless.
“Hi ho, Silver away!” Ben yells. “I’ve wanted to say that ever since I was a kid. We couldn’t afford any think.Net time growing up, but one of the radio stations played the old recordings. So mighty steed, where are we going?”
“I saw a map covered in “X”s in William’s compound. At first I thought they might be his next assassination targets, but now I think they are bombs that are about to go off. One of the spots wasn’t far from here,” Gavin says, struggling to engage in conversation while doing his best speeding herd animal impression.
“Running towards a bomb that’s about to go off does seem like a good idea. I can see why you’re in such a hurry. Maybe you can leave me at the next stop?”
“I have to know if I’m right. I memorized the map; if they really are bombs we need to evacuate those locations. I’m trying to call Maria or Linda, but it keeps telling me my account is invalid. I guess the cops got me suspended. Can you get through?”
“Nope. All my fake accounts are getting the same message as you. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have some theories and none of them are good for us.”
Gavin comes to a screeching halt which causes Ben to tumble off his back, hitting the side of a building with a thud. The building is a hangar-sized, grey B-Crete construction that’s about as plain as a building can be.
“We’re here. It’s a Walters Storage facility,” Gavin says while lifting himself back into limping bipedalism.
“Who would want to bomb Walters?” Ben asks as he picks himself up off the ground. “I’m fine by the way. Thanks for asking.”
“Khan is a religious nut. Maybe he sees the Walters as demon imps or something like that. It doesn’t matter, we have to figure out if Billy the Kid really planted a bomb here,” Gavin says. He grabs the handle of the front door, rips the door off the hinges, and tosses it aside. Gavin limps inside and Ben follows, muttering about lower back pain.
There’s an older security guard sitting with his feet up on the desk. He’s startled out of his think.Net stare and greeted by the sight of a giant, hairless, bleed
ing man. He doesn’t even notice Ben.
“How can I help you?” the guard asks in a trembling voice, the terror forcing his brain into the instinctual act of posing that exact question to whoever walks into the building.
Ben steps in front of Gavin, indicating that as the less terror-inducing member of the partnership, he will handle the speaking role.
“Hello, sir. I need to ask you if there has been an unusual activity in this facility. Any unexpected maintenance or repairs?” Ben asks in a friendly voice.
“There was a guy here yesterday, said somebody called about a busted latrine. I didn’t have a work order, but I figured nobody would go in there on a volunteer basis. There isn’t any reason to keep it clean. The Walters don’t care how disgusting it is as long as it works, and I’ve got my own bathroom up here.”
“Sir, we’re going to need you to exit the premises and get as far away as you can,” Gavin commands. “Where is the latrine?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” the guard says as he stands up from his desk. “Latrine is in the corner of the storage floor behind me. You can’t miss it.” He hustles out of the building as fast as his legs can carry him.
“Did you notice he was on think.Net when we came in?” Gavin asks. “That means the problem is with our accounts, not the whole system. If we can use the Walters to get Nita’s attention, I can tell her to evacuate the buildings.”
“Are you completely insane?” Ben asks while doing the swirly index finger signal for crazy. “If you do that she’ll know where we are.”
“Most of the “X”s were Ultracorps properties. She’s the only one who could possibly contact all of the buildings quickly enough to order the evacuations and the only one with the authority to get it done. This is not a debate,” Gavin says and puts his foot down literally and figuratively.
“Fine,” Ben says with a frown when he sees the look of determination on Gavin’s face, “but after you talk to her we need to skedaddle on the hop.”
The pair hustles onto the storage floor. They’re hit by a wave of body odor that out-stinks any high school locker room. The entire space is chock-full of what must be hundreds of beds, many of them occupied by Walters silently slumbering away. They come here to sleep and eat between shifts. They have no reaction to the motley duo running through their dormitory.
Ben spots a doorway marked “Latrine” and points. They head inside and are greeted by a wall of odor that must rank in the top ten worst all time smells. It puts the previous body odor concoction to shame. Ben swallows down his natural reaction to the funk.
“You’d think it would be clean considering they’re basically all janitors,” Gavin says, waving his hands in a futile effort to ward off the odor molecules.
“Don’t complain to me. You’re the one who can turn off his sense of smell,” Ben replies holding his nostrils closed.
The two begin their search of the house of horrors. Gavin rips open a closest, revealing a complicated-looking device about the size of a briefcase. There are all sorts of wires and a blinking red light.
“Ben, I found it. Please tell me you know how to disarm bombs,” Gavin says waving his partner over.
“I read a field manual once,” Ben says as he takes stock of the device.
“That means you know more than me. You handle this, I’m going to go get Nita’s attention.” Gavin heads back to the clone storage area.
He grabs the closest Walter, rousing the poor creature from a well-deserved rest. He rips off the Walter’s pants and puts them on his head, the same tactic that garnered Nita’s attention before. It has no effect this time. Gavin lifts the Walter up and throws it high in the air, over and over again. The Walter’s eyes go wide, but it takes no action to keep itself from receiving the same treatment a toddler might endure. Despondent, Gavin grabs another Walter and adds it to the mix, essentially juggling the two hapless creatures. Then he waits, confident that if this doesn’t get Nita’s attention then nothing will. After a few more moments without a response, he comes to the conclusion Nita isn’t going to call. He heads back into the latrine.
“Nothing from Nita, and I went a lot further this time. Any luck with the bomb?” Gavin asks.
Ben pulls a wire out of the device, then puts his hands over his head and cowers. His instinct to shield himself was unnecessary, as the blinking red light on the device ceases its terrifying illumination.
“Was there ever any doubt? It was a simple design; Billy boy wasn’t worried about his bombs being found. But Gavin, if you want to evacuate those buildings you better figure out a way to do so right now. That thing was going to go off in the next hour.”
Before Gavin can ask any follow-up questions, they are interrupted by a booming voice that echoes off the buildings like a siren. It belongs to Nicholas Werden, Gavin’s old roommate and Los Angeles’ Town Crier. He’s responsible for waking up the entire Metro Area.
“The time is 7AM. The time is 7AM. Get your morning off to a jumpstart with an Oasis Burger Manna and Egg sandwich. The egg came before the chicken when it comes to breakfast at Oasis Burger,” Nick yells so the whole Metro Area can hear.
Shortly after Nick finishes speaking, there’s a loud boom in the distance. Then another and another. Ben counts sixteen booms before they come to a terrifying stop.
“I guess I was wrong about that hour,” Ben says to Gavin, whose face is frozen in horror.
34
Whereas Ultracorps and its subsidiaries have been largely responsible for the construction of the Metro Areas. Whereas Ultracorps and its subsidiaries are providing food and other essential services to the citizens of the United States of America. Whereas Ultracorps provided many services free of charge in the years following its founding. We hereby Commemorate May 3, 1995, as The Unified Logistics Technology and Research Applications Corporation Appreciation Day.
The Unified Logistics Technology and Research Applications Corporation Appreciation Day Act of 1995.
“Hold still, I’ve almost got it,” Linda says as she digs into me with a pair of pliers.
It’s not exactly the proper implement to remove the bullet from my rib, but beggars can’t be choosers. I’m pretty sure it’s not sterile either. Nothing is in this place. Ben’s secret hideout looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in months. It’s absolutely covered in Oasis Burger wrappers. It’s a basement for some reason, even though there are countless abandoned buildings above ground that we could be inside. He’s really personifying the filthy nerd stereotype.
“There,” Linda says and drops the bullet on the floor.
I could have pushed the bullet out as I healed my muscle tissue, but Linda was so insistent. She wanted to do something to feel useful. I can’t blame her. We’re all feeling pretty useless right now.
A hatch opens and a ladder is lowered in the corner of the room. Ben climbs down.
“I finally got a good signal on the radio. It is chaos out there. At least sixteen bombs went off all over the Metro Area. The police are estimating that a minimum of six hundred people were killed and about four hundred of those were Differents. Most of the Differents were killed by bombs at the Ultracorps employee housing complex. The bombs were well placed,” Ben continues. “William planted them so that they made the earth underneath the buildings give way and topple like dominos. The walls might be made of Maceo Steel, but that didn’t do anything to protect the people inside. The force of the impact killed a lot of people. The other bombs went off in a few Ultracorps-owned warehouses and laboratories and the Construct furniture factory. He also hit a couple of think.Net nodes, killing the Big Brains and Telepaths inside. Think.Net is down all over the Metro Area. That last one’s a little surprising though; it seems to be down in places that weren’t hit. Maybe Ultracorps is redeploying their personnel or something.”
“We should go try to help any survivors,” I say.
“You? The cops will show their appreciation for your help by arresting you. Linda and I can’t go help be
cause for some reason the Slug is down, even though I didn’t hear anything about bombs hitting near the tracks or fuel depots.”
“How are they explaining the bombs?”
“They’re just calling them explosions, and this time I don’t think it’s a conspiracy. Without think.Net or the Slug, communication is almost impossible. The radio station I was listening to was literally sending runners out to gather information. It was pretty funny hearing the out-of-breath reporters try to deliver the news. One of them sounded like he was puking in the background.”
“Yeah, sounds hilarious,” Linda says, deadpan.
“I guess you had to be there. The radio wasn’t my sole source of information. The L.A.P.D. is using walkie-talkies that I can hear through my scanner. I get the impression the Governor’s office implied you might be involved in these bombings. The police have other priorities at the moment, but once all the bodies are collected and the fires die down, they’re going to be coming for you. It’s safe to say your days as a celebrity are over.”
“I liked being a vigilante better anyway. So what’s our next…”
I trail off because I’m getting a call on think.Net, from Nita.
“Nita is calling me,” I say to Ben and Linda.
“How? Think.Net is down. You should take it, and ask her how she’s calling. Oh, and ask her about the Slug too and ask…,” Ben says.
I hold my hand up to silence Ben and accept the call.
>>>Gavin, are you well? Were you able to stop William?
<<
>>>Ultracorps is in the process of reallocating resources. We had to cease normal access to the network.
