Spiral

by Andy Remic

  Feuchter turned and continued to walk. Carter followed.

  ‘Durell and Gol - the horrors they created!’ Feuchter chuckled, and the sound was cold; chilling; nightmare turned real.

  Moving down busy metal corridors now, Carter felt the hairs crackling on the back of his neck. He kept glimpsing the faces of the Nex. There was something wrong with these people, these assassins who had hunted him for so long, these killers who had nearly wiped out the Spiral DemolSquads... but he could not put his finger on it.

  Feuchter halted.

  A door slid open and he ushered Carter through and onto a massive control deck. Computers lined the walls, their status lights glittering insanely. Display monitors were set up on benches, showing naval and air operations globally. And there, against the far wall, seated beside a small black terminal, was Natasha—

  ‘Nats!’

  ‘Carter!’ She leaped to her feet, sprinted towards him and they fell into one another’s arms. Carter kissed her passionately, then pulled away and stared down into her tear-filled eyes.

  ‘They captured me,’ she sobbed. ‘I didn’t betray you, Carter, I promise ... they said I was their insurance policy, that you would do what they want as long as they could kill me ...’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ snapped Feuchter. He strolled over to the small black terminal and placed the Browning on an alloy bench. He flicked a switch; there was a spiralling of metal plates, which spun out from the top of the terminal to reveal a small black cube. ‘Behold,’ said Feuchter. ‘The QIII. Are you impressed, Mr Carter?’

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘That’s it. But what it lacks in aesthetics, believe me, it makes up for in ability. Thank your saviour, Mr Carter.’

  ‘My ... saviour?’

  ‘Ask yourself this question - why did we take Natasha? Why didn’t I just shoot you up there on the deck? You think I give a fuck about answering your questions? You think I care about sparing your life for a few moments more? No ... But the QIII’s puzzled by you, Mr Carter. It can predict anything, anything - except your actions... and that worries the QIII, and it worries us. It thinks that there’s something strange about you, Mr Carter, something dark inside you that makes you uniquely dangerous. And it’s going to tear that secret from you - even if it fucks with your soul, even if it eventually kills you.’

  Feuchter smiled, and it was not a nice smile. ‘I, however, am sceptical; I want you dead. But Durell has other plans ..

  Feuchter turned and ran a finger across the cold cubic processor.

  It hummed softly.

  ‘What’s it afraid of?’ said Carter softly. ‘That I’ll shoot you in the fucking face again?’

  Feuchter turned; a fluid whirl. He smiled at Carter. ‘Let me warn you, it is Durell who wishes you alive, and the QIII itself: not I. Do not antagonise me or you may push me beyond my boundaries. Now, this QIII is fully functional, as you witnessed when your sorry little group flew in to meet their makers - soon, you will see the full extent of our plans.’

  ‘What, to take over the world?’ sneered Carter.

  Feuchter laughed then. ‘You are so naive, Carter. So very, very simple. In your world everything is in black and white; not so in mine. Spiral had their power, had their fucking time. They abused it. Look at the way things are ... it disgusts me. They have ultimate power and yet evil dominates, evil men walk the world with guns and bombs of HighJ fire. It is fucked up beyond belief, Carter. Spiral: once I thought they were strong - but no, Spiral are weak, Carter - they grew fat and weak on the spoils of war. Now it is time for change ... it is time for the strong to rule with an iron fist, and rule we will. We will turn the tables. We will annihilate evil. We will make the world a better place and make God proud of humanity.’

  He stepped away from the QIII.

  A white globe spun into the air; colours rippled across its surface, painting the simulated Earth with laser light. Around it spun satellites, and as the sphere expanded and rotated Carter could see activity within it: fleets of warships, squadrons of aircraft, battalions of tanks moving across this QIII globe of laser light.

  The door opened. A huge, athletic Nex warrior entered, followed by a shuffling figure in heavy dark robes, its face hidden, its shoulders hunched as if in pain. The Nex nodded to Feuchter, who smiled once again. It was with unease that Carter noted the copper-eyed stare fixed on him.

  ‘This is Krael,’ said Feuchter softly. He turned and looked hard at Carter. ‘You met his mate in Africa; I believe you destroyed her face with your bullets. Krael has asked me for a personal favour: he wishes to dance with you, Carter, he wishes to show you what pain is. The QIII wants you alive - I merely want you to suffer.’

  Carter’s gaze moved from the huge Nex to the shuffling figure; it had moved to the globe, and a cracked blackened hand came out, reached towards the digital hologram and was bathed, sparkling, by the ghostly witch-light.

  The figure chuckled, a deep melodious sound.

  ‘So we meet, Mr Carter.’

  ‘You would be Durell.’

  ‘I would.’

  ‘You’re the one in charge of this fucking yapping puppy called Feuchter.’

  ‘Yes. Let me show you what we can do here,’ came the voice of Durell from within the robes.

  Suddenly, the globe spun with incredible speed. It showed the cruiser and the battle raging in the skies above it.

  ‘You are privileged indeed, Mr Carter, to witness this moment...’

  Durell’s blackened twisted hand gestured, a complicated pattern of movements. Script flowed up and over the globe and the humming from the QIII increased in volume—

  Natasha gasped. ‘It’s... doing it...’

  Carter watched coldly as—

  SP1Q,%KEY_OPTIONAL%sysSATmeter,Installed,,’0’

  HKLM,%KEY_OPTIONAL%,’netwatch’,,‘netwatch’

  tracking ... located Russian SAT 576 #####

  tracking ... locked.

  script engaged script locking engaged

  launch sequence initiated= threat= demolsquad

  co-ords 234.456.557.212 - eq%345.331

  config= armed and targeted

  satellite lasers= granted

  The fight was going badly. The DemolSquads were dying. And just when it seemed that things couldn’t get worse, The Priest watched the darkened skies erupt with a burst of laser light... a column of white fire exploded from the heavens and blasted an Apache into glowing splinters of steel that rained sizzling down across the raging ocean.

  The Priest swallowed hard. He blinked, and looked upwards.

  And his faith was shaken.

  The QIII showed it all.

  It showed the destructive laser light smash down from the commandeered Russian PredatorSAT.

  It showed, close up, the Apache with its struggling occupants.

  There was a glow, incredibly bright.

  Blood was vaporised.

  Flesh torn from faces and hands and throats.

  Screams - for an infinitesimal slice of time.

  Death.

  And an explosion of raining steel...

  Carter’s jaw tightened; he stepped smoothly away from Natasha, gaze scanning the room: the Nex, Krael, Feuchter and Durell.

  ‘You are fucking insane,’ he growled.

  ‘On the contrary, Mr Carter,’ said Durell, his hidden face turning towards Carter. ‘We are quite sane. Only we seek to do what is right - by our own definitions of the term. You see the QIII now? The globe is spinning, a pretty light show ... but thirty seconds ago it unlocked the World Banks - every single one. It now controls them. It has taken over every single satellite that circles the Earth. It controls the world’s armies: their aircraft, their tanks, their infantry - their nuclear weapons. Shortly I will issue statements to all the governments of the World Powers - they will relinquish their countries to me in exchange for their lives. And then... then we will play this Spiral game my way.’

  Durell’s voice had risen in anger and, to Carter’s ear
s, in madness.

  That black crippled hand emerged and took hold of the QIII processor. Suddenly, the light was gone and Carter blinked...

  Feuchter walked towards the door, following Durell. He was almost nonchalant in his movements. His arrogance was total. His position of strength was clear. He halted and turned to Carter as Durell disappeared with the QIII...

  ‘You asked me about the Nex, about what they are. I feel that it is my duty to give you answers. Show him, Krael. Explain your prowess. Oh, fuck it, Mr Carter, this little puppy thinks it is time for you to learn.’

  The huge Nex took a step forward; he reached up, grasped his tight-fitting uniform, and ripped it up above his head revealing a heavily muscled torso. But at his sternum, trailing down, there was a light pattern of—

  ‘Scales?’ whispered Carter, frowning.

  ‘Armour,’ said Feuchter, his eyes bright. ‘In the 1950s, when the Americans and Russians discovered the joys of nuclear weaponry, it was also discovered that many insects had, shall we say, natural in-built properties of which we, as humans, were envious. Spiral set up research centres to look at why insects were so tough, so hardy, so downright fucking lethal. Pull a leg from a spider, it doesn’t die. It might hurt, but it’s solid insular genetic structure makes it a force to be reckoned with. Take cockroaches: they are very resistant to radiation. Why? Why the fuck would that be? It was researched for years, answers were found — genetic coding is such a wonderful process - and then Durell and Gol took it one step further ... developed the ultimate coding able to operate on today’s nuclear, biological and chemical battlefields!’

  ‘I thought they were all destroyed,’ said Natasha. ‘Back then, in Germany? Gol said they were wiped out.’

  Feuchter glanced at her. ‘Oh no, my sweetness. Durell and myself and your daddy were very busy. We call it Skein Blending: you take a human and an insect, or a series of insects and - you’re going to fucking love this - you spiral genetic strands together. The host -insect genetics are quite parasitical in their nature - the host receives a whole new set of attributes: resistance to chemical, biological and radioactive weapons; an incredibly enhanced immune system; a massively increased pain threshold, quicker reactions, reflexes, thought processes. Their skin hardens, some grow external and internal armour to protect organs and bones - they become incredibly lethal killing machines without remorse. They become the perfect soldier. Their ability to repair themselves increases greatly, Mr Carter; and that is why I am not dead. That is why your bullets, and the explosion and the fire did not kill me ... I am a Nex, Carter. It is well known within the scientific world that every true scientist should be willing to test his experiments on himself ... I was the first Nex. I was the first true Nex.’

  Carter stood with his mouth agape. He glanced at Natasha; she was pale.

  ‘Tell him the rest,’ she said.

  Feuchter shrugged. ‘What more is there to tell? The Nex are a blend of insect and human - nothing more. What Nature has denied us, Man has found a way to complement; to cure.’

  ‘Tell them why Spiral cancelled the project and destroyed the specimens,’ she hissed.

  Feuchter merely shrugged again.

  ‘It changes your mind state,’ said Natasha softly. ‘You lose all emotions; you lose all ability to care, to love, to nurture. Your mind becomes like that of an insect; you become the sort of man willing to betray everything he has ever known, ever loved.’

  Carter dropped his gaze. Kade was screaming in his head and a wave of pain flooded over him. Distantly, there was a concussive boom. ‘Kill him, and kill him now and we’ll fucking go home…’ Kade was spitting in his mind ...

  Another figure stepped into the room; Feuchter spoke quietly, then smiled. ‘It would seem that I am needed for a few moments - to take over the world,’ he whispered. ‘Krael, show him how far the Nex have advanced ... he wants his answers, give them to him ... ‘

  Feuchter stepped through the door and was gone.

  The three Nex with guns moved forward and grabbed at Natasha; she hissed a curse and everything happened at once. The huge muscled and armoured figure of Krael stepped forward with a narrow smile and a hiss, tossing his gun aside where it clattered against the wall, the dark armour on his abdomen glinting in the weak light, his asexual face under short dark hair - bristling black insect hair - serene and relaxed and ready to kill...

  Yelling, Carter charged—

  And Krael leaped to meet him ...

  They clashed in mid-air with a rapid exchange of blows so fast that the human eye could barely follow it. They parted, both landing and whirling on the dull black metal floor of the op centre...

  Krael smiled. ‘I will make you suffer like you have never suffered before.’

  Carter glanced at where the three Nex had dragged Natasha to the door - but he was stuck, stuck with his own fucking problems ...

  ‘I will fuck your mind,’ snapped Carter.

  Krael charged, smashing a series of punches at Carter who blocked, dodged, blocked again and then hammered a right hook to Krael’s jaw. Then he kicked out, boot lifting high to smash Krael in the chest, knocking him back with a grunt. Krael leaped again, high into the air, both elbows ramming down at Carter who twisted, whirling with incredible speed as Krael met nothing. Krael landed; his boot smashed out, kicking Carter in the chest and sending him sprawling backwards, a look of pain flashing across his face. Carter hit the metal grilles of the floor with a dang, then rolled as Krael’s boots landed where his face had been an instant earlier. They circled each other, snarling like caged tigers.

  ‘You have slowed in your old age,’ said Krael.

  Carter laughed. ‘I don’t feel dead just yet.’

  ‘You will,’ said Krael, his eyes gleaming. ‘Don’t you understand? I am toying with you; I am fucking with you. You are slow compared to me, Carter; you are weak. I am going to make you suffer as you made Sharae suffer; I will send you to her and she will enslave your soul...’

  ‘Stop talking and show me,’ snapped Carter.

  They closed—

  Warily.

  Carter threw a complicated series of punches, jabs, hooks and uppercuts - Krael blocked them all, then came back with a front kick. Carter sidestepped, catching Krael’s leg and driving his elbow down at the joint - but Krael twisted, throwing himself up, the heel of his boot connecting suddenly with Carter’s face, his nose, hammering Carter back sprawling onto the hard metal floor—

  Carter screamed, blood pouring, hands moving to protect his face.

  ‘No!’ cried Natasha.

  Krael landed in a crouch, then unfolded and stood. He walked forwards. He looked down. He dropped suddenly, one elbow hitting Carter in the chest with all his weight. There was a crack of breaking sternum. Carter screamed again - as his hands suddenly shot out, grasped Krael’s head and dragged him forward onto the smash of a head-butt - once, twice, three times until Krael’s fingers prised Carter’s hands free and he scrambled, coughing and blinded, backwards, spinning and dazed, away across the booming metal floor—

  Carter, feeling sick, rolled to his knees, then to his feet, groaning. Pain lanced through his chest; he gasped, struggling to breathe, his fingers coming up to probe at his broken sternum. He glared across the op centre at Krael, who was shaking his head, a thin trickle of blood dripping from his broken nose.

  The ship around them rocked and shuddered. Distant screams could be heard as scorched stressed metal ranted in fury. A low groaning rose as some distant explosion rumbled.

  Krael smiled nastily.

  And charged—

  Carter braced himself; they punched, blocked, circled; Krael charged again, launching himself into a flying kick that Carter barely dodged. Again Krael came on and Carter backed away before blocking a flurry of blows and returning a combination of punches and kicks that forced Krael back for a moment—

  They circled again, Carter panting, sweat dripping from his brow. Krael seemed untouched.

  ‘I t
hought you would be faster,’ said Carter.

  ‘I am faster than you.’

  ‘Show me, then, you fucking pussy.’

  Krael howled and charged. The blows came thick and fast and Carter found himself retreating, panic-filled, under the insane barrage of punches and kicks. He barely managed to dodge and block - a blow caught him in the throat and he staggered backwards, suddenly trapped against a bank of computers.

  Krael stood, panting, smiling grimly, watching the man in front of him as he scrabbled at his neck—

  ‘Carter!’ cried Natasha. She struggled with the three armed Nex, aware that even if - by some miracle - Carter managed to kill this warrior Nex, then he would have three more opponents with guns to deal with.

  Carter clawed—

  at his throat—

  Clawed for air—

  Carter clasped his neck, pain spearing him. Tears streamed from his eyes and he wiped them away with bloodstained hands. He looked up then, looked up into Krael’s dark moody eyes and he knew: knew he was outclassed; knew he was beaten; knew he was dead ...

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’ he wheezed through his damaged throat. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a fucking warrior - your dead fucking mate put up a better fight...’

  Krael’s eyes widened and his smile disappeared. He screamed, charging again; Carter ducked a series of blows and launched himself across the metal grilles, a full-length dive, stretching for the wall and the bench and the stranded—