by Ryan Burnett
You fucking know what I meant, I think back to her, hoping she could somehow perceive the anger and frustration behind my thoughts. This is it. The silence has now stretched into an awkward uncomfortableness. They were going to make their move soon and I would have no other option but to take everyone including myself out in a blaze of ill-conceived glory. I suppose there were worse ways to go... a hell of a lot of better ones...but worse ways too.
"Marcus I have an idea....I need you to casually throw the grenade from one hand to the other."
You need me....to give them a chance to kill me... Great plan....
You came all the way down here because some part of you trusts me...you can't go back now...you don't really have a choice anymore.
With that last mental communication I could feel our connection grow silent. As if she had to withdraw a bit to gather her strength. Trusting in fate and trusting in another person were all things I've had to do before. Even the most resourceful individual falls victim to the whim of dumb luck... but trusting in Angela… or Rhodera... trusting in whatever she was..was an abyss of infinite possibilities. Regardless...she was right, it was a decision I had made and come what may I couldn't back out now.
I started to speak to the men gathered in front of me as I began the motion of tossing the grenade from one hand to the other in a quick and precise fashion, painstakingly maintaining the air of casual control , "Now listen I don't have all..." It happened in mid-flight. As soon as my thumb was off the detonator and the weapon was in the air that coppery static feeling descended over me suppressing my mind and filling my senses with a numb buzzing static. I felt myself sinking to a different layer of perception and could hear the HPM grenade smack into my palm but I no longer possessed the ability to maneuver my hand to activate the trigger. I was helpless now but not defeated, and as I struggled to recalibrate my mind to the new reality in front of me I desperately tried to reach for Angela's mental presence. For any small fragment of hope that could be left to salvage.
I knew Rex would strike the moment your finger was off the trigger, I'm ...I'm pulling everyone in with you. At least this way nobody can attack your physical body while we deal with Rex...
As I heard her words I could feel the intense strain and pressure behind them. I knew she was pushing herself to her limits, but never the less her words brought a small measure of relief to my mind as I tried to sift through the jumble of new images
As the world began to settle around me I did notice something was different immediately. I was not in my usual office within my "Nellix Tower” instead I was seated at a desk located in the central pulpit of a large auditorium. Row after row of dark glossy wooden desks stretched out before me. The central portion of each of these had glowing holo-display screens. To my left and right were giant tinted glass walls showing that we were high up in the tower. The evening sky showing through the tint giving a rose colored gleam to the dim interior. This grand conference room was something I had never manifested before but I could instantly feel and observe the traces of my identity throughout its entirety.
"Don't let your guard down." A voice spoke out to my left. As I turned my head Angela came into full view. The shimmering navy blue cloth of a skirt suit hugging her torso. The skirt itself was appropriately long but its slit did an excellent job of showing off her long legs while still being modest. Subtle silver detailing along the buttons matched the silver earrings she was wearing. It was an image I wished I had the time to admire.
Angela gestured towards the figures in the auditorium before us. Mr. Sitavi appeared in a rich brown suit that bordered on a golden hue, the color of which was set off by a neat green shirt, near the back of the conference room. He looked severely confused and disoriented by his transition to this place. Harrold appeared a few rows down from him seated next to the man I didn't know the name of. The grey and charcoal suit shirt combo somehow registering in my mind as mysterious. The nameless third man appeared in a formal button down shirt and suspenders. Mr. Ostan and the man seated next to him looked a lot more at ease with the change of locale, although their sense of surprise at least equaled Cid's. I was aware of Shange’s presence as well within my mindscape hiding somewhere unseen. The presence of all four of these men were eclipsed by Rex though. Seated in the dead center of the room. The black and white bars of his pinstripe suit so thick and dominant it almost reminded me of piano keys. He spoke only two sentences
"You shouldn't have come here. You shouldn't have threatened my kind."
Before reaching underneath the desk and withdrawing one of the biggest guns I have ever seen. The grim monstrosity appeared to be some kind of half-ogre kin to the military M60 machine guns. Acting on pure instinct I dived to the ground as the unholy thunder exploded across the space my head had occupied mere moments before the stream of bullets swept down carving divots into the podium and beginning to forcibly dismantle the makeshift barricade. Somehow over the noise I was aware that Angela was screaming. Still crouching I remembered how I was able to infiltrate the warehouse in the first place. I reached my hand to where I knew the control switch must be and was rewarded with darkness as I flicked the switch that cut off the lights. A brief feeling of victory that was swiftly mutilated as I felt a round pass through my hand. Pain. Angry, red, and screaming erupting from my mangled limb. I gritted my teeth and seethed behind the remains of the podium. This was more than just a projection. This was something I could feel; and what was worse is that apparently he could fire that thing with the accuracy of a sniper rifle. How the hell was he so accurate with that behemoth of a weapon? The same old tricks wouldn’t keep working forever. This was bad. This was very very bad.
The titan clatter of the machine gun ceased for a brief moment and I could hear Rex's voice call out to me "You can hide in the dark all you want but you can't escape this place. You can't escape yourself."
I could hear Angela's voice whisper next to me in the dark "You have to run Marcus. Now." Grasping my injured hand I ran to where the rows of desks were on the far left side of the room keeping my head low and moving as fast as I possibly could. The clamor of bullets opened up again in response to the sound of my scuffling feet. Sending bullets to splinter the glass wall into a web way of cracks behind me, bringing the promise of death to the spot where I once stood. I could see the look on his face, in the burst of light coming from the muzzle, it was the same look he had when he shot up club Pangea. It was in his eyes...it was a joy in the devotion to his purpose coupled with a total lack of regard for human life or any other moral constraints that bind the heart of most mortal men. It was a look produced by a mind that I could never truly know or understand.
Remembering my experience with Shange I focused on the mental image of a gun. Something that I would still be able to operate with one hand. I settled on an fn57 and was rewarded after a few moments of intense concentration to feel its heft and weight form in my left hand. Without leaving the cover of the row I was now hunkered down behind I fired a few shots toward the center of the room. Silently hoping a stray bullet would put an end to Rex. I emptied my clip and as I reloaded I could hear his laughter "Pathetic. I don't know why but honestly I was expecting a little better though. Although I must admit....as feeble as that attempt was, it was better than most."
I finished reloading. Paused and took one giant calming breath and as I exhaled I moved from behind the corner squeezing off my rounds in one fluid motion at Rex, who was standing still and looking unafraid presenting his profile to me right there in the center of the meeting room. I watched in awe as Rex moved ever so subtly almost as if he was merely shifting his weight to the left and the right and then back again avoiding my salvo by what must have been millimeters. "You can't kill me. You don't even want to kill me. You merely want to survive" He spoke, before firing once from his weapon the force of the projectile ripping my newly acquired pistol out of my grasp. I ducked back behind cover and began an undignified crawl towards the back of the auditorium. That insane
accuracy of his was unreal… maybe if I could get to the elevators I could hide for long enough to come up with a new plan. Scrambling on all fours across the hardwood floors I was quite stunned to come face to face with Shange reclining on the floor in the extremely dim ambient lights, looking relaxed and nonplussed about the whole thing. I reached out to throttle his large neck but he stopped me with the sentence "You still have a chance you know"
"What? What chance" I shot back in a hurried whisper. I could hear a clump behind me as Rex jumped on top of a desk for a better vantage point. "Think about what Rex is saying. You know he is not holding a real gun right, and even if he were he has never shot something that large before on a single day in his life. He does really want to kill you though."
"What are you fucking trying to say?" but before I could answer a line of bullets swept across the narrow area where we were, I threw my body forward under another set of desks. Gritting my teeth again as I banged my wounded hand as well as my knees. Rex's shots had neatly avoided Shange while carving up the flooring directly under where I used to be with surgical precision. I needed to think fast.... but then again perhaps that was my problem. I was thinking too much. There was no time for formulating a tactic or strategy. I couldn't be a sitting duck here I had to act. I curved my progress around towards the middle of the conference room. Not daring to take a peak over the cover of the desks, hoping that Rex had moved out towards the perimeter of the room. I could hear motion out that way...
I just couldn't be sure it was Rex.
"Finish him Rex, so we can leave this place" I heard Ostan’s voice shout in the dim recesses of the conference room. I veered away from it ....and managed to bump right into the dark slacks of the unnamed third man.
"Ostan! Sitavi! He's here he's right here!" He yelled.
"Well dos something about it you ape!" came Sitavi's voice through the blackness. The man tried to tackle me but he did not know how to move his girth in the least bit. I was able to shift myself past him and make a mad dash for the rear door now that my cover was blown. I knew Rex had a bead on me knew I was moments away from being ripped to shreds by an unyielding machine of jet black steel but I would be damned if I didn't at least try to make it to that exit. I had to try.
"Marcus!!!!!!" Angela's voice screamed out behind me, as I turned to see her behind me shielding me with her small body. Then I watched that body jerk three times and blood beginning to stain the back of her suit jacket indigo.
"No you fool!!!!" screams Harold Ostan's voice. As I see him scramble over desks to get to Angela's side. Both Rex and I look on in stunned silence as Mr. Ostan rushes over to check her pulse.
“There still may be time to save her but it won't be long. We have no time to waste! Kill him NOW!" Ostan says in a rush of words. Words that I took to heart as I turned around and leapt past an astonished Ostan and threw a running haymaker at Alex. Grabbing his stunned body by the lapels and dragging him to the floor with me. I hear Alex's gun clang against the floor as we roll. I needed to hurt Rex. No I needed to kill him and do it quickly; so I fought with every ounce of desperation I had. Somehow going toe to toe with the infamous Rex as my fists became a conduit for all the rage, desperation, and despair that I felt as my lifeline bled out on the auditorium floor. Our clothes tore as we rolled across the floor trying to establish the upper hand and as our rolling bodies got closer to the fractured glass of the left wall I resolved to carry the bastard to hell with me.
Chapter 29
14:27:39
Cid
The spectacle in my audience chamber defied my imagination. It went so far beyond the scope of what I had thought possible that for a brief moment I forgot about everything else. As soon as I came to my senses from my transition to the VRN headspace, I had been left in a state of awe over what I was witnessing. These AI that Ostan had created were exhibiting a technical control of the integration between the human brain and the VRN at a level so unprecedented I hadn't even attempted it in my R&D laboratory. The level of synchronization itself was monumental, awe inspiring, and it left me feeling...a bit insignificant. I hated that feeling. Resented it...and I resented Ostan for creating this situation, resenting him for forcing me to see it in this way, resented him for making my mind wander (even if it was only just a mere millimeter) from the plans I had already set in motion.
Obtaining and controlling my son...or whatever this thing that my son had become was...had become even more crucial than ever. In addition to this I now knew that there were other specimens like him through which I could extract the secrets of this complex and effortless integration of the VRN code with the brain's natural biochemistry. I only had to look past Ostan's words about the metaphysical to see what was truly before me...It was my dream fully realized and manifested...manifested in the form of a rebellious punk who somehow shared my DNA. Whatever happened here Ostan could not be allowed to waste this kind of potential chasing after fairies, aliens, and forces that did not exist. I knew the man, I knew his craftiness, I knew he would try to use his serpent tongue to steer me away from my desires. It could not happen. Not now. Not when I was this close. Simmering with my own thoughts as the others played out their little drama in the halls of my throne room I couldn't help but to indulge in my fascination as I carefully waited and watched.
Alex's scale armor seemed to glow in the flickering torchlight as he exhaled another plume of fire scorching the chamber, carving blackened scars across the floors. This manifestation of power was otherworldly and these fires had already burned several of the decorative sculptures to dust, even now residual embers and tongues of flames licked against the cages of my chimeras, the strange and visceral predators roared in their cages thrashing against their confines each time Alex exhaled another burst of fire. The mental construct of my harem of slave girls cowered in fear as Alex stalked the doomed man around the confines of the chamber. It felt almost as if he were toying with the suicidal fool who had somehow made his way into the heart of Ostan's sanctum. I had to admit that now I was glad of his arrival. The childlike scholar inside of me was infinitely curious on what would happen once Alex had killed this virtual projection. I would have to figure out a way to let Ostan let me study the body as soon as we returned to what was real. I had known that Alex had left bodies in the wake of his escape but it had not even occurred to me to even inspect the bodies, much less order the type of autopsy necessary to properly study this phenomenon. The hunt for Alex had taken a greater priority, but now that I had some idea of what I was dealing with, data gleaned from such a corpse could lead to untold weaponization of VRN tech. My initial guess was that some kind of bio electric feedback triggered a neuroresponse that led to an aneurysm...but that was mere speculation at this point. There was so much to learn now. So much to master. Ostan would bargain, and if he wouldn't well then I would just have to play hardball. Well harderball...I smiled to myself as another jet of flame shot across the room.
I could see the man now in the drab leather of a traveler’s vest and breeches coated with the dirt and dust of his desperate scramble across the floors of my chambers. One severely burnt arm hanging loosely at his side. For some odd reason my VRN had given the man the affectation of animal ears similar to a fox or coyote. An undignified look in my opinion...but it did match the less than graceful leaps and dives he was performing to delay his inevitable fiery death.
Alex released another thunderous roar of fire and once again I see the man barely escape the blaze by darting behind a pillar. Then much to my surprise the man actually launched a counter attack. Poking his arm out from behind cover the man began to unload from what appeared to be a repeating crossbow. Errant bolts flew around the chamber aimlessly before burying themselves in the walls and tapestries. No real damage had been done but I was intrigued... could a weapon summoned in the virtual world be used to hurt or control these beings? It was an interesting concept that I would have to explore further, one that could be invaluable in making Alex into the docile specimen
I needed. I looked on with a scholarly intent as the man came out fully from behind the cover sending several silver tipped bolts directly at Alex who stood there without a trace of fear. Seconds later, I found myself exhaling through gritted teeth in a mixture of frustration and relief as the shining darts clanged harmlessly against the scales of Alex's armor. The thing my son had become then spoke and said, "Pathetic. I don't know why but honestly I was expecting a little better though. Although I must admit....as feeble as that attempt was, it was better than most" before opening his mouth once more and letting those inner flames scream forth from inside of him.
The weapon was an interesting concept but it seems it was far from effective. Frustrating but at the same time I could not be disappointed in the opportunity to learn more about what Alex was truly capable of. If that method of control couldn't work then another would. Control was always possible for those willing to go far enough.
When Alex's attack subsided the molten slag of a pillar was in ruins but the body of the man was nowhere to be found. Alex called out to the now empty room but my attention was drawn to the impish figure reclining in the arms of one of the few remaining statues slightly further down the hall. A statue that was soon incinerated by Alex whose fires seemed to dance all around the creature, destroying the statue but leaving the grinning demon completely unharmed. My eye lingered on the imp with his triple row of gleaming teeth until my attention was drawn away by the sound of scuffling feet as the man took off from his hiding spot, looking for some form of sanctuary. It was not long before I could hear Frait's voice call out with the excitement of a toddler, "Ostan! Sitavi! He's here! He's right here" to which I responded "Well do something about it you ape!" I yelled despite myself. Frait. That fool was better off in Ostan's employ. I would find someone else and the costs be damned. At least in here Frait's attire concealed his appearance and lent him an air of dignity that was vastly different from his actual persona. The ankle length overcoat of a plague doctor seemed oddly appropriate draped around his shoulders and the long beak of the birds mask effectively concealed his impudent smirks. I watched the fool fumble around with the fox-eared man, until the stranger broke free of Frait's clumsy grasp and made a break for the exit doors. I could see Alex smile as he cast his gaze on the fleeing man’s back and unleash a devastating rush of burning agony. An inferno that the mysterious young woman flung herself in front of while screaming "Marcus!!!" like a forlorn banshee. Alex ended the stream of fire immediately but the woman had received the full force of the blast. My fleeting glimpses of her white dress and flowing hair were put to shame by the curled up twitching burnt thing that now lay curled and sobbing on the ground. A hush fell on the room by all, a hush which was only broken by Ostan's insufferable wailing. Ostan and his elaborately geometrically patterned robes of interlocking triangles moved in a rush to the woman's side. This woman was obviously important to Ostan. I would have to be very careful to remember that for the future. “There still may be time to save her but it won't be long. We have no time to waste! Kill him NOW!" words that were punctuated by the swift blur of the stranger tackling Alex to the ground. The stranger's black gloved hands had sprouted long claws which he used to dig at Alex's armor again and again at vicious angles even as Alex's own taloned gauntlets tore gashes into the man's back. It was obvious that one hand was still injured, the man named Marcus seemed to be primarily using his right side to try and pin down part of Alex's body but at this moment in time the free hand seemed more than capable of doing the bloody work of two limbs. That is until Alex managed to get his legs in position to kick free of Marcus's hold. Briefly the two disengaged with only a handful of feet between them. Marcus was panting, winded by the kick and bleeding from a slew of new wounds crisscrossing his back. Alex on the other hand seemed more surprised than anything as he ran one hand across his own abdomen, feeling the bloody divots where the claws had sunk in, and the flowing red patches where scales had been torn completely off.
