The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1)

by Phillip William Sheppard

  Somehow, even knowing that only an imprint of a human being had raised him, Donovan was immensely relieved. He was able to disconnect the man before him from the man he knew. This person was a stranger. He was insane. It made him sad to think of the wonderful person Tobias had the potential to be.

  There’s no time for sympathy, Donovan told himself. It’s my job to stop him.

  They had already gotten a good deal of information out of him, but Donovan wanted to keep him talking.

  “Your ‘master race’—where is it? You have all this cloning equipment but you haven’t gotten very far, have you?”

  “Oh, I’ve done wonders. Here, alone on this planet, I’ve put all my time into replicating myself. I have hundreds of clones here. Just because you haven’t found them yet doesn’t mean they don’t exist. They helped me build this place. They’ve helped me make a considerable amount of progress with my plans.”

  “Right,” Donovan said. “World domination.”

  Tobias looked truly affronted. “Domination? No, child, this will be a cleansing. The world will be born anew. It will finally become the utopia it should have been two hundred years ago!” Tobias spoke faster, caught up in his passion. “Yes, a utopia… a perfect world filled with perfect people. My descendants will be the best humans to ever walk this earth. They’ll be the strongest, the fastest, the most intelligent!”

  “A bit full of himself, isn’t he?” Jonathan said to Donovan.

  Tobias laughed. “This isn’t mere wishful thinking, boy. I specifically enhanced my clones to have better sight, better hearing, a better sense of smell, more strength, rapid cell regeneration.”

  “Rapid cell regeneration?” Captain Umar asked. “That’s impossible.”

  “Silly boy, of course it isn’t. I created it. I gave them all the features we humans lost when we got our big brains. I’ve given them their animalistic strengths back—all without losing the cognitive ability of the human brain.”

  “But that’s—it’s not…,” Captain Umar stuttered.

  “Everything is possible! If only you push your mind to its limits and discover how it can be done! I am a genius, child. Or did you forget with whom you are speaking?”

  Captain Umar was about to make an angry retort when Tracee spoke. “Wait a minute. If you’ve been here all this time, making clones as you claim, then the man who’s in China is also…”

  “A clone, yes. Smart girl.”

  Everyone spun around. The voice had come not from the hologram but from right behind them. The real life, flesh-and-blood Tobias stood with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a grey suit with a white lab coat on top. He gave them all a friendly smile.

  Tracee raised her gun. Everyone else followed her lead.

  Donovan stepped forward with his arms spread. “No. Wait.” He gestured for them to lower their weapons.

  “Donovan,” Tracee said, keeping her gun aimed. “We can’t let him escape.”

  “Yes, but if you kill him then we may never get a cure.”

  “Now that we’ve found this place we’re sure to find it. It has to be around here somewhere.”

  “We don’t even know that there is a cure. What if he never created one? We need him. Alive.”

  “Why thank you, dear boy. I rather appreciate not having my brains blown out all over the floor by that primitive weapon.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” Donovan snapped. “We still have e-guns with non-lethal settings. I won’t hesitate to use them on you if your answers are not satisfactory.”

  Tobias smiled, as if amused by some private joke.

  “Tell us. Have you made a cure?”

  “Why, as a matter of fact I have,” Tobias said. He turned and took a step to the left. Everyone stepped forward, expecting him to make some sudden move to kill them, but he merely began to leisurely pace the floor.

  “I have a cure, yes. For those deserving of it.”

  “And who are you to decide who lives and dies?” Colonel McGregor demanded.

  Once again, Tobias seemed to be particularly amused by McGregor.

  “My genius,” Tobias replied. “My intellect is superior to any human brain that has ever come before. It has pierced the depths of time and space. Even with clear explanations and instructions, there is only a rare human who can truly understand the things that I’ve discovered. I think that puts me in a position to make the wisest choices.”

  “Enough of this! Where is it?” Jonathan asked. He moved forward and held his e-gun directly in front of Tobias’s face.

  Tobias didn’t flinch even a centimeter. His expression didn’t change.

  “I can understand your frustration,” Tobias said. “You care about people, don’t you, boy? You want to save them. You don’t want anyone to die. But trust me, it’s better this way. You’re too young and too privileged to understand.”

  Jonathan pushed the e-gun closer to Tobias’s face.

  “Jonathan…,” Donovan said in a calming tone. “Relax.” A shot at that range, even non-lethal, could have lasting effects. They wanted Tobias’s brain to be perfectly unharmed.

  “I’m relaxed,” Jonathan said. His face didn’t turn away from Tobias. “Where is it?”

  “I’d like to make you an offer,” Tobias said. “All of you. You all seem to be rather good people. You came here, risking you lives on a mission to save the human race from certain death. It’s all very noble. You are exactly the type of people the new earth will need. With time, I think you can be convinced that I’m right about the world.”

  “We’ll never join you.”

  “There are benefits,” Tobias said, ignoring Jonathan. He looked at the rest of them in turn, eyes resting on Donovan the longest. “There is much more to the virus than you know. It is only a primer—a blank slate, if you will.”

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll bite. What are you talking about?”

  “The virus that has infected the planet is merely a primer that is activated to do one thing or another by coming into contact with a formula. The virus that I issued contains a formula that tells it to attack the cells of its host. But the formula has a thick coat—one that only fades away after many years. That’s why the virus seemed to be so slow-acting. That’s why it appears to be harmless at first. The formula is undetectable unless you already know it’s there.

  “The other formula, which I offer to you now, once injected into the bloodstream, will prompt the virus to actively protect the cells of its host. It will give you powerful healing abilities. It sharpens your sight, gives you strength—essentially all of the abilities that my clones have.

  “If you join me, you will have the formula as a reward. Not a bad bonus, eh?”

  “We don’t want your stupid formula, Tobias,” Captain Umar said. “Who knows what else you’ve hidden inside it?”

  “Are you sure?” Tobias asked, as if they had all turned down a cookie or a refreshing glass of water. “I will not offer it again.”

  They all stared at him stonily.

  “Donovan?” Tobias asked. “Will you not join your grandfather on his righteous quest? I wouldn’t be so blind and callous as to exclude your family. They, too, would receive the formula. It would reverse the current effects of the virus. They’d all be healed. Return to your own time. Find me. Join me.”

  Donovan was torn. He hated this man more with each word that he spoke. He was planning to kill off all humans on the planet… and yet, Donovan was very tempted to take him up on his offer. He could save his family. He could return to the future and be his own self… and not disappear.

  He could do it easily. He could eliminate his team right now. They’d never expect it.

  Of course, though he wanted desperately for his family to survive, Donovan couldn’t kill his comrades. He could never work with Tobias. He would have to find another way.

  “Tobias,” Donovan said. “Turn yourself in. Come back with us. Reform yourself. If you can’t do that, at least just leave earth
alone. Start your new race here, on this planet, and leave us be. And if we fall into chaos and murder and treachery, then so be it. Give us the cure and let us figure out the problems on Earth for ourselves. You can have your utopia. Right here.”

  Tobias sighed deeply. “I had really hoped you would come to my side, boy. You had such great potential.”

  Donovan thought of the Tobias who raised him—the Tobias with so much good intent for the world. Surely that person had to be somewhere inside this Tobias—after all, he was the original copy.

  “Somewhere inside you,” Donovan said, “there is a good man. I know because I’ve met him. He raised me. The Tobias I knew never could have conceived of what you have done. That man is more present in you than you realize—why else would you have told us so much? Why else would you have given away so much detail about your virus and your plans? Is it that, secretly, you want someone to stop you?”

  Tobias let out a long, hearty laugh. “I’m not crying out with my soul to be saved, Donovan. You’re so naïve. It’s almost endearing.

  “What you haven’t realized is that it doesn’t matter what I tell you—I’ve already won. No matter how much information you gain, no matter how much effort you put into destroying me—my plan is full proof. The world is at stake here—this is chess, not checkers, boy. I already have you at checkmate.

  “And now that I see that you will not join me, no matter how great the benefits, there is but one choice left—I must destroy you all!”

  Tobias sprang forward, a knife withdrawn in a flash from the inside of his lab coat.

  Donovan raised an arm instinctively to block him, but before Tobias could even touch Donovan, he fell to the ground, convulsing.

  Tracee had shot him. She quickly clicked a pair of electric cuffs around his wrists. The convulsing slowed but didn’t stop.

  Before Donovan could thank her for the save, the sounds of rapid footsteps echoed from the hallway. They had no time to prepare—the clones were upon them.

  The room filled with them in an instant. Dozens upon dozens of Tobiases everywhere. They had no choice now. Donovan gave the command to shoot to kill.

  “Fire at will!” he shouted.

  There was an echoing laugh that rolled through the room like an ocean wave. The Tobiases were chortling joyfully.

  “You can’t kill me,” they said. “I’m everywhere.”

  The words reverberated through the room. I’m everywhere. I’m everywhere. I’m everywhere.

  Donovan was barely aware of the fight that ensued. The only thought that reared its ugly head inside his mind was that they had yet to find a cure. If they didn’t find it now, they might never find it. But they had no time. No way to look for it.

  They could barely manage to survive the onslaught of strengthened clones and escape that place, let alone conduct a search for the cure. It was impossible. Donovan felt devastation begin to overwhelm him, but he continued to fight. He had to survive. He couldn’t give up.

  The clones were immensely more powerful than his team. At first they used their guns, knowing that e-guns would have little to no effect. They managed to take out several dozen clones. They scattered the floor in piles, blood flowing freely over the white tiles.

  Tables were upended, equipment destroyed by stray bullets. The bodies piled up, but there seemed to be no end to them.

  Then, to Donovan’s horror, the clones that had received seemingly fatal shots to the heart or major arteries rose from the floor like zombies, skin flowing back together as if God’s hand had lain across the wounds, melting the clay back smooth.

  For the first time in his life, Donovan didn’t know what to do but run.

  “Aim for the head!” he shouted. “Run whenever you can. Head for the ship. We have to get out of here now!”

  He wasn’t positive that they’d all heard him. He didn’t even have time to look around and see if they were all still alive. He saw Tracee still fighting out of the corner of his eye.

  Donovan pulled the trigger on his gun as fast as he could, shooting foreheads left and right with perfect accuracy. A path began to clear in front of him. He kept shooting.

  Tracee came up behind him and added her bullets. They started falling quickly, clearing a way.

  “Over here!” Tracee said.

  Donovan heard the others run up behind him. He chanced a glance. Everyone was still there. A cut above Jonathan’s eyebrow was bleeding into his face. His limped a little—his leg sporting a mass of blood from some wound.

  Captain Umar’s arm was limp at his side. His face was white as milk, but he bravely used the other arm to continue shooting. Colonel McGregor seemed to be okay.

  “Umar, McGregor, take the left. Tracee, Jonathan, take the right. I’ll lead. Whatever you do, don’t let them touch you!”

  Donovan made every effort not to let the clones touch him. He knew that if they got hold of him it might all be over. They could fatally injure him with a punch to the right place. At the thought of this, an image of Eric swam in his head—eyes bulging, spit flying from his mouth as the clone in the lab punched him in the stomach.

  Donovan couldn’t let them land a single blow. He kept shooting. Soon, he needed to reload.

  “I’m out!”

  “Switch with me,” Tracee said. She stepped in front of him and kept firing.

  Donovan took her place beside Jonathan. Jonathan covered him while he reloaded his gun. When he was finished, he switched with Tracee again.

  In this way they shifted as needed and forged a bloody walkway through the sea of clones. Donovan wasn’t aware of when it happened, but finally they broke through.

  Suddenly, there were hundreds of clones behind them and none in front of them.

  They ran.

  Jonathan quickly fell behind. Looking back, Donovan could tell that he was in severe pain trying to keep up the pace. But if they slowed down even a little, the clones would catch them. They were fast.

  At frequent intervals, Donovan slowed down until he was in the back of the group, leaving Tracee to lead. Then he ran backwards and shot the closest clones, covering Jonathan so that he could catch up.

  They turned corners and burst through doors, trying to get to the exit.

  At some point Donovan realized that Jonathan wasn’t going to make it. He gave Jonathan his gun as they ran and, without stopping, swung the boy over his shoulder.

  “Shoot them!” he shouted.

  Donovan heard the fire of the weapons resounding in his ears. He heard satisfying thuds as clones fell to the ground.

  When they approached the main door, a heart-sinking thought occurred to Donovan—what if they had destroyed the ship?

  They burst through the doors.

  To Donovan’s relief, the ship was still there. They ran to it. Some of them stumbling over rocks. The clones still pursued them. Donovan wondered if they would follow the team to earth.

  Tracee opened the ship doors as they approached and they all ran safely inside. Tracee hurriedly hit the button to close the door. The clones were almost to the ship.

  The door crept closed.

  Too slowly.

  Before it could swing shut, the first clone reached it and wrenched it back open. Tracee kicked it hard in the stomach. Donovan doubt that it was hurt, but it lost its balance and fell to the ground below.

  “Tracee! Fly the ship. We’ll take care of the clones.”

  Tracee did as Donovan said while the rest of them kept firing outside the door, trying not to let another one get that close. Donovan pulled a second gun from his holster.

  The engines flared. The ship began to rise slowly from the ground. Donovan ran out of ammo. A few seconds later, so did Jonathan. Captain Umar was sitting down, clutching his arm, unable to hold off the pain and fight.

  Colonel McGregor kept up his fire. But it was hardly enough to keep all of them back.

  The ship was three feet off the ground when a wall of clones reached the half-open door. Donovan pushed McGre
gor back and tried to close it, but the nearest clone pushed its arm in and pulled it open.

  Donovan mimicked what Tracee had done earlier and kicked it full in the stomach. But the force of bodies behind the clone steadied it. It was able to maintain its grip. The ship rose another five feet from the ground, leaving the rest of the clones to glare up at them, frustration and hate in their eyes.

  The one Tobias who had made it onto the ship leapt at Donovan, fist raised. Donovan ducked underneath its arms to the open door.

  General McGregor aimed his gun and fired, but his gun clicked impotently—he had run out of bullets.

  The clone pushed McGregor roughly to the side. He banged his head on the metal wall of the cabin and lay on the floor, unconscious.

  The clone charged Donovan again, the light of victory shining on its face.

  At the last second, Donovan dodged to the left.

  The clone tried to pull up short, to grab onto something, but its momentum carried it away. It flew through the door and landed on the ground twenty feet below. Donovan looked down at its crumpled body and did not feel triumph.

  He was exhausted and half his team was injured. They had made it out alive. The natural extinct of his body was to feel relief.

  But his heart and mind knew the truth—they had survived this fight—but Tobias would win.

  They hadn’t found a cure.

  Tracee opened up a teleportation field and flew through it. They traveled through the wormhole toward home, toward Earth.

  They had survived, but they were already dead.

  Chapter 11

  “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”

  —Sun Tzu

  May 16, 2176

  Fort Belvoir, VA

  Donovan Knight

  Donovan and the others arrived at Fort Belvoir in silence.

  Donovan instructed the others to get medical assistance while he and Tracee reported to General Umar. He commanded them to search Tobias’s lab in Atlanta one more time, just in case they missed something. Maybe there was another hidden door they hadn’t found.