“The hive we saw in Mattis’s lab?” Hunter asked.
Fuller nodded. “Over a century ago, they brought it here to study. Mattis’s idea. It escaped, and most of the people in the Phoenix Complex were infected when the spores entered the ventilation system.”
“When Major Murphy told us about the Riy,” Sif said, “he mentioned they figured out a way to slow the spread of the Riy, but by the time they did, it was already too late. They found a way to slow its effects, didn’t they?”
“They could slow it but not stop it. The only way to keep the spread at bay is through regular transfusions of noninfected blood. One side effect, though, is that their life is extended. The spores are throughout their bodies, Commander, but they never progress to the final stage of infection. The Old Ones—like the president and Dr. Mattis—are the original people who came to the Phoenix Complex almost two centuries ago.”
“Your President Carlisle,” Sif said. “I saw him in some old pictures while we were in the Dak—the cave—with Litsa and the others. He was the CEO of a company called Phoenix BioLabs. And Mattis, he was the man whom many blamed for the entire catastrophe. It was Phoenix, and Mattis, who were running some sort of experiment at Chernobyl when it was destroyed.”
“Now I remember,” Hunter said. “And they disappeared. Now we know where they went.”
“They told you Phoenix was where all the greatest minds of the world were brought as the rest of the planet fell apart,” Fuller said, “but it isn’t true. Only the Phoenix employees themselves were brought here. Everyone else was left to die.”
“How many of the Old Ones are there?” Sif asked.
“Almost all the people in the complex are Old Ones, except for those like me, who were brought here.” He paused, pointing to another row of coffins, another level down. “Or born here.”
Even from this distance, Sif could see the people within the coffins were women. And they were pregnant. “Oh my God. They’re breeding them?”
“The Old Ones need new blood, not only to sustain their lives, but to add to the complex’s workforce.” Fuller placed his hand on the nearest coffin, took a deep breath. “I was one of those children,” he said. “Born here, in this room, to a mother who was nothing but a female host, kept alive by machines and discarded like trash when her usefulness was over.”
“And the secret got out,” Hunter said.
“We learned the truth, yes. The Resistance are all outsiders, brought here as children or bred here. The Old Ones dispose of us when we become known to them, but they have many replacements ready to take our place.”
A mechanical noise startled Sif. One of the coffins on an upper level one row over was moving, sliding toward the edge of the catwalk.
Fuller saw it, too. “And when the bodies are drained of all their usefulness,” he explained, “this happens.”
The glass cover slid back, and the coffin rotated. Greenish liquid spilled over the side, just a few drops at first, then splashed to the floor below as the coffin tipped completely over. The body inside—thin, emaciated—hung suspended from the tubes for a moment, then broke free as the tubes slid from its mouth and tore free from its arms and legs.
The body careened through the air, and Sif jumped back as it flew right past her. She leaned over the side of the catwalk railing and watched it hit the floor below.
It was a sight she would carry with her for the rest of her days.
Sif lost all the strength in her legs and held tightly to the railing to steady herself.
The floor was littered with hundreds of dead corpses, dumped like so much trash from the coffins above, after the Old Ones drained them of their lives.
Fuller continued. “What you see down there is nothing more than a source of biomass.”
Sif struggled to keep her stomach contents down as he continued speaking.
“Material for clothing, other textiles. And food.”
“Dear God in Heaven,” Hunter sighed. He turned away, hung his head.
“This is how the Old Ones stay alive, Commander. This is how we all stay alive. What you’ve eaten, processed to appear as meat . . . There are no more bison,” Fuller said.
Sif ripped her mask from her face and vomited.
“Come,” Fuller said. “You need to see something else. Quickly.”
Sif wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and followed Fuller toward the far end of the catwalk, where a row of coffins sat empty. Their lids were open, waiting.
“There is a room, near here, where the new captures are kept. Two of the people you were in the cave with are still there.”
“Two of them?” Hunter asked.
“Conrad and Geller, I believe their names are.”
Oh God. “Where is Talia?” Sif asked.
Fuller pointed to the coffin beside her.
Sif didn’t want to look, but she did.
It was Talia, her body suspended in the green liquid, tubes forced into her body, down her throat. Her eyes were open, as if she were still alive, and her body pulsed, throbbed, as it was being drained.
“Oh, Talia.” Sif began to sob and placed her hands against the glass. “She was just a kid.”
Something inside Sif snapped.
She would do whatever she could to bring this evil place to its knees, even if it meant killing every single one of them with her bare hands.
Fuller stepped forward and put his hand on Sif’s shoulder. “The Resistance needs your help, Commander.”
She stood. “You’ve got it.”
Fuller nodded, looked at both of them. “We’re going to need Resolute.”
Lucas was silent for a time.
“You said they need the ship,” he finally said.
“They do,” Sif said softly. “As soon as we launch the flyer, a clock starts for the Resistance. They’re going to get Hunter, Litsa, and whoever else they can save out of the complex. But our timing has to be spot-on.”
“Timing for what?” Lucas asked.
“After you and I bug out, Liv is going to take the ship and fly her right down their goddamn throat, Lucas. She’s going to crash Resolute into the Phoenix Complex.”
Chapter 60
Hunter was back in the radio room, awaiting the call from Resolute stating that the flyer was launched. Around him were numerous security personnel, at least one of them, he assumed, a member of the Resistance.
Fuller had told them the plan would go into motion as soon as the flyer was launched, based on a rough timeline Sif calculated. It was a guess on her part, timing the interval between the flyer launch and when Resolute dropped from the sky. If Sif was wrong, then they all might get to see it up close and personal.
“Phoenix, this is Resolute. Over.”
Not Sif, Hunter noted. It was Lucas.
“Resolute, this is Phoenix,” the operator replied. “Go ahead.”
“Cargo landers are away, south-southeast transit arc until touchdown. Flyer launch in fifteen minutes. Will advise. Resolute out.”
President Carlisle approached the radio operator. “I want to talk to Shattuck. Get them back.”
“Resolute, this is Phoenix. Over.”
Nothing.
“Resolute, this is Phoenix, come in, please. Over.”
Hunter smiled. “They’re a little busy right now, Mr. President.”
“Let’s hope that’s all it is.”
Hunter would have been pleased to know that Shattuck’s body burned up thirty minutes ago, leaving a dim stream of light high in the night sky over what used to be called the Dead Sea.
“Good job, Lucas,” Sif said. Hunter now knew the lander’s new touchdown locations—south-southeast. “But what’s a ‘transit arc’?”
“Who knows? I thought it sounded pretty good, myself.”
“Liv, time until flyer release?”
“Flyer release in ten minutes, Commander.”
“I notice she’s calling me by rank again. Back to normal, huh?”
“It�
��s been a struggle. Believe me.”
Sif and Lucas suited up, made their way to Beagle’s cockpit, and quickly completed the prelaunch checks. As soon as the flyer was away, and they made a radio call stating such, they would depart Resolute for the last time, leaving the ship under Liv’s control. A short time later, their huge, beautiful ship would be transformed into a screaming, flaming hulk, a hypersonic mass that would hit the Phoenix Complex with the force of an atomic bomb.
If everything worked.
Inside the comm center, everyone kept their eyes on the clock, counting down the time until the flyer’s expected release.
The call came right on time, but it was full of static, hard to hear.
It was Lucas again.
“Phoenix, this is Resolute. Flyer release. I say again, flyer release with good results. She’s in the green and operating normally. Mr. Shattuck wishes to—”
The transmission ended abruptly with a burst of static.
“Get them back,” the president ordered.
The radio operator tried numerous times, but the static remained.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter noticed one of the security personnel slip away. The clock was running. “They might be out of radio range, Mr. President,” Hunter said, “or maybe a radio problem. Hard to tell.”
“I need to speak to Shattuck,” Carlisle said.
“The flyer is away and operating normally. I would think Shattuck’s job is complete,” Hunter said.
“As is yours, Colonel.” Carlisle turned toward the security personnel. “Take Webb and the female to the holding pen.”
Hunter stood, but two guards grabbed his arms. “You promised we’d be allowed to live.”
“I don’t need three astronauts on my hands, Colonel. The other two will be sufficient.”
“You’ll answer for what you’ve done here, Carlisle.”
“Maybe, Colonel. But not today.”
Chapter 61
“Three minutes until release, Lucas. Are you ready for this?” Sif asked.
“I hope it goes more smoothly than the last time you went down in this thing.”
“Beagle isn’t a thing, Lucas. She’s a she.”
“I’ll call it she after it gets me down on the ground safe and sound.”
Sif checked the timers on her wrist—one was counting down to Beagle’s release, and the other was counting down to Liv’s first maneuver. Liv would turn the ship, orienting her tailfirst, then fire the mains, starting her descent. After that, she would bring the nose of the ship to bear, and at the right time, fire the mains again until the fuel was depleted, or impact, whichever came first.
“Liv, Resolute system status for descent maneuver?”
“All systems operational, Commander. Liv is ready to execute.”
“Thank you, Liv,” Lucas said. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
“Liv has enjoyed working with you, as well, my liege.”
Lucas shook his head. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way—it’s only a computer—but I’m going to miss that crazy thing.”
“Liv, give us a count for release,” Sif ordered.
“Release in two minutes, Commander.”
Through her earphones, Sif heard Lucas take a deep breath. “Nothing worse than a roller coaster, Lucas. I promise.”
“Release in one minute, fifty—”
Silence.
Sif quickly checked the comm circuits. All green. “Liv?”
“Liv has detected a fault in the navigation system, Commander. Running diagnostics.”
“Shit,” Sif said. Their patchwork fixes to the navigation system were failing at the worst possible moment. She waited a few more seconds. “Liv, status?”
“Nav system is off-line, Commander. Main control board showing fault. Orbital descent not possible.”
Sif unstrapped.
“Wait a minute, where are you going?” Lucas asked.
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
“We’ve got less than a minute and a half until we’re supposed to launch!”
“I know, Lucas. Just stay put.” Sif pushed herself from the chair and quickly opened the docking port door. “Liv, can you recalculate descent parameters by bypassing the main controller?”
“Negative, Commander. Nav system is off-line. Orbital descent not possible.”
“Goddammit.” Sif made a quick decision. She closed Beagle’s door, then opened the door to Resolute’s launch bay. She closed the door behind her and headed for the command module.
“Beagle release in one minute,” Liv announced.
Sif floated into the command center and slid open the nav controller panel. She could smell the tang of burnt electronics and saw the circuit board was fried. Her stomach sank. “Liv, is manual control possible?”
“Manual control is possible, Commander. Beagle release in forty seconds.”
She would have to fly Resolute down manually. By herself. “Liv, switch Beagle flight profile to fully automatic.”
“Liv has complied.”
“Lucas, this is Sif. I’m not coming with you.”
“You’re what?”
“The nav system is fried. I’ll—” She hated lying to him. “I’ll do what I can to fix it, but I may have to get her lined up manually.”
“Sif, no.”
“I still have the escape capsule. Beagle is on automatic, you’ll be fine. Just don’t touch anything. I’ll see you on the ground.” With that, she closed the comm channel.
She heard the locking clamps release a few seconds later. Beagle and Lucas were on their way down to Earth.
She slid into Resolute’s pilot seat. “All right, Liv, it’s you and me. Bring up projected path and firing events, my screen. Control to manual. Provide an audible countdown for each event.”
“Liv has complied, Commander.”
Sif strapped in and placed her hands on the controls. She took a deep breath and waited for Liv’s count to begin. She had done this with Beagle before and could do it again. She had to.
“Commander, ship orientation maneuver in five, four, three, two, one . . . mark.”
Chapter 62
Hunter and Litsa, hands tied behind their backs, were in an elevator heading down to Level Five, along with three guards, each armed. Hunter tried to fight back, but received a baton in the gut that sent him sprawling to the floor. He resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out of this alive.
The elevator stopped, and the guards pulled them out. Hunter could see the holding cell, a large cage packed full of people dressed like Litsa was when they first saw her.
This was his fate, then.
He remembered Fuller tapping the back of his skull, explaining how the brain was destroyed before the body was placed in a coffin. Like an animal to slaughter.
He only hoped the rest of the Resistance’s plan would work and that he would live long enough to feel Resolute’s impact and watch the facility—and all its evil—collapse around him. It wasn’t how he wanted his life to end, but he would die smiling, knowing he did his part.
Hunter saw a man press himself against the bars.
“Litsa?” a voice cried out. “Litsa, it is you.”
Litsa was gagged, and Hunter could hear her struggling to speak. “Back away from the gate,” a guard ordered, poking his baton at the bars, its tip sparking bright blue.
The man backed up, apparently well acquainted with the baton.
The guard opened the lock while the two others held Hunter and Litsa by the arms.
Hunter felt his guard release his grip. Saw him move.
The gate opened, and the guard turned to face them.
“Bring them—”
His words were cut short by a bullet slamming into his forehead.
Hunter dropped to his knees and watched as his guard pointed his pistol at the man holding Litsa—and put a bullet into his face.
The guard with the gun removed his mask. “Colonel Hunter
, we don’t have much time,” he said. “My name is Stephens.” He pulled a key from his uniform blouse and unlocked the cuffs around Hunter’s wrists. “The Resistance is on the move. You need to get these people to the ladder, quickly.” He tossed Hunter the handcuff keys. “For her. Now, go. There will be others topside to help you.”
With that, the man was gone, disappearing into the shadows.
Hunter quickly unlocked Litsa’s cuffs and pulled the gag from her mouth.
“Jarrod!” Litsa screamed.
The man who called Litsa’s name tentatively stepped forward, keeping his eyes locked on Hunter.
“It’s okay,” Litsa said. “He’s a friend.”
“We need to get these people moving,” Hunter said. “There isn’t much time.”
A loud boom resounded through the complex, and everyone flinched.
“This way,” Hunter said, urging them to follow.
Jarrod ran to Litsa, gripped her arms with his strong hands. “I thought you were lost.”
“And I, you,” she said. “We must follow him. Now.”
“Do you trust him?”
Litsa nodded. “With my life.”
Hunter was breathing heavily when he reached the third level. Strung out below him were thirty or so other people, all those awaiting their time in the coffins, now given a second chance at life.
He hoped most of them would survive, but if the gunfire and explosions he was hearing from the upper levels were any indication, not all would.
There was one hell of a firefight going on. And they were climbing right into it.
Jacques burst into President Carlisle’s office. “Sir, we have a situation.”
“What is it?” he replied, pulling the IV line from his arm. Blood dripped to the floor.
“What we’ve always feared, sir. The Resistance has started an armed revolt.”
Carlisle stood. “Implement the extermination protocol. Every last one of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Old Ones would kill every single person in the complex who was not one of their own. It was time for a cleansing.
The Phoenix Descent Page 27
