by Ted Cross
“For the moment,” Kostya said. “You’re hurt, though. I’d like to get you out of there. I’m just not sure how to do it.”
“I m- may be able to help. Th- the guy who was w- with me…I th- think he was a mobster from…from there. He seemed to th- think I was a colleague.”
Kostya told his car to head for The Pyramid. “I guess it makes sense. The only card that could’ve been used on you was the one these mobsters stole from us. If they still think you’re, you know, one of them, then maybe we have a shot at getting you out of there.”
“Even b- better,” Tyoma said, “th- the guy didn’t seem to ex- expect me to speak. M- maybe this guy was a mmm- mute.”
Kostya smirked at him. “You look like someone who was used for muscle, not brains. Just stay quiet and look scary. We’ll fake our way through this.”
Tyoma nodded. He smiled at the thought of meeting himself. We’ll have so much to discuss! I wonder if I can beat myself at chess?
Moscow
Sunday, June 8, 2138
10:45 p.m. MSK
Everything seemed a blur now to Zoya. And not in the same way as when her heart was pounding and the combat card seemed to slow everything to a crawl. She could focus during the blur caused by the card. While everything else melted away, she was able to concentrate on any one area of her choice and make decisions…thoughtful decisions. Now her heart wasn’t pounding and the blur encompassed everything.
She saw things in flashes. The young American man Marcus, overcome with exhaustion, asleep leaning against the car’s door. Ira constantly glancing back at Zoya from the front seat, her face pale, her attempts to offer a wan smile failing. The glow of the giant pyramid and its curved towers filling the view screens. I’m getting what I thought I wanted and all I want to do now is throw up.
The air car slowed and descended into the dim light of a landing garage halfway up the side of the pyramid. The steady light seemed to make Zoya’s mind clear. She’d never been anywhere close to The Pyramid before. Looking down she noticed that there was no way to access the casino from ground level. They wouldn’t want low-life Muckers dirtying up their paradise.
“Park in your regular spot,” she told the car, hoping the car actually had such a parking space. It began to settle into an open space not far from a neon-lit arched doorway leading into a casino. Two guards in dark suits stood on either side of the arch, while a small group of gaudily-clad patrons sauntered from their long, sleek air car into the noise and bright lights of the casino hall.
When the car settled, Zoya told it to open the doors. She looked over at Ira and tried to smile, but from the look on Ira’s face she wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“Don’t go,” Ira said. “You don’t need to do this. Please, let’s get out of here. Go someplace nice where you can rest.”
Zoya held the gun in front of her face, ejected the clip, and checked the number of remaining rounds. She slammed the clip back in place and patted her pocket to ensure the two spare clips were still there. “Take Marcus to his apartment,” she said. “Ditch this car somewhere and go to your family at the dacha.”
Ira seemed to be all cried out. She stared at Zoya with reddened eyes but said nothing more.
Zoya got out of the car, glanced at the two guards, then ducked back in to look at the sleeping Marcus. She looked longingly at his smooth, dark skin, his expressive lips, his tousled black hair, and wished that life had been allowed to go a different direction. The young man was completely out of place here, and she marveled at the sheer unlikelihood that he had wandered into her life. Why did it have to be the worst day?
She drew herself up and adjusted her solar coat while glancing casually at the guards again. Drawing in a calming breath, she thumbed the safety on the gun and began walking toward the casino’s entrance. Despite her attempts to remain calm, her heart began to pound and the guards took on a red glow. They glanced up at her approach but otherwise showed little interest. When she was within a meter of them, one of the guards grinned at her. Zoya raised the gun and blew the grin off his face. The universe had turned to slow-motion again, and the other guard had no time to react before she put a bullet through his ear.
Screams erupted from the casino and blurry forms began to run or drop to the floor. Zoya brought the hand with the gun down to shield it behind her thigh, ducked low, and skittered through the doorway to shelter near a bank of slot machines. The combat card drew her attention to a man running toward her holding a shotgun. She let the panic show on her face and shouted, “Through there!” while pointing at the arched doorway. The man didn’t hesitate but headed straight for the doorway. As he drew level with Zoya, she whipped the gun up and shot the man in his side. He stumbled against one arch, a shocked look on his face. Zoya erased the look with a carefully-placed second shot.
The screams in the casino became louder than ever. Zoya scanned the room, looking for any new dangers. The card identified several probable guards, but they were all taking cover where they could find it. Zoya realized she was smiling. Ira was right; I’m not myself anymore. I think I’m actually going to enjoy this.
The first shots woke Marcus from a deep sleep. The world was blurry. Somewhere nearby a woman wailed and repeated the word ‘no’ again and again along with a name he recognized—Zoya! He snapped fully awake and sat up from the leather seat. Everything came back to him in a rush. The air car. Irina. But where was Zoya? Irina looked back at him from the front seat with a tear-streaked face. Marcus was about to ask her where Zoya went when he heard two more shots. He scrambled out the open door of the air car, crouched down, and peered around the bumper of the car toward the source of the shots. He saw bodies and pools of blood. The bodies were too large to be Zoya. He breathed a sigh of relief and crept toward the doorway.
“What are you doing? Don’t follow her!” Irina said, leaning out the door of the air car.
Marcus waved at her to get back inside the car. “Go on! Get out of here while you still can.”
“Everyone is crazy!” she cried, before telling the car to shut the doors.
Marcus pressed himself close to the wall as the air car lifted behind him. At least someone will survive this, he thought. When he drew close to the doorway, he forced himself not to look at the bodies. A gun lay on the ground near the outstretched hand of one of the corpses. Marcus considered picking it up, then decided against it. The sick terror he had felt while trying to shoot Tavik had taught him that he wasn’t cut out to use guns. He peered through the arch at an astonishing scene. There was Zoya, crouched and running down the middle of the casino floor. Dozens of people lay prone on the carpeting or hid behind gaming tables and slot machines. Zoya pointed back in Marcus’s direction and cried out, “He’s crazy! He murdered those men. What are you waiting for?”
Someone Marcus couldn’t see replied, “There’s just one?”
Zoya shrieked at him, “Yes! Do your job before someone else gets hurt!”
Three men emerged from their hiding places, guns at the ready, grim looks on their faces. They signaled silently to one another and began to converge on the arch. Crap! Marcus thought. She’s sending them right to me!
He was about to duck away when he saw Zoya turn as if to follow the men. She shuffled after them a few steps, stopped, and lifted her weapon. Three quick shots and the men were down. One flopped about and screamed until Zoya dispatched him with another shot.
Madre de Dios! She’s slaughtering them! Marcus watched in horrid fascination as a tube lift arrived and two men with Uzis emerged. It took a moment for the men to take in the scene, and by then it was too late. Zoya had ducked behind some slots, emerged around the other side of the bank, and blew both of them away before they could even turn in her direction. She looked around the room once, stepped over the bodies, and entered the tube lift.
“Wait!” Marcus shouted and began running toward Zoya. She can’t leave me here alone! Zoya looked back at him and shook her
head. Marcus couldn’t tell whether she was amused or disgusted. He was out of breath as he joined her in the lift.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” she said.
“I’m…” He panted. “…the idiot?”
She ignored his rejoinder and examined the lift. “There are no controls.”
Marcus was finally able to catch his breath. “You just tell it where you want to go. Look…” He pointed at Cyrillic lettering on one wall. “…it tells what each floor is for.”
Zoya smiled. “What do you think? Straight to the top…or start at the bottom and work my way up?”
“You’ve lost it,” Marcus said. “Completely out of your mind.”
“I know,” she replied. “Fun, isn’t it?”
“Murdering people?”
She stared at him, the seconds stretching out for what felt like ages. “They’re the murderers, not me.”
Marcus shook his head and said to the lift, “Nearest restroom, please.”
Zoya scowled at him.
The lift replied, “The nearest restroom is on this level, just to the left.”
Marcus shrugged at Zoya. “What? I need to go really badly.” To the lift he said, “Nearest restroom on a different floor please.”
A dim light flicked on and the lift began to rise.
“Jesus, your face!” Marcus said. The left side of Zoya’s face was swollen and bruises ranging from yellow to deep purple ran down her jaw line and circled her neck.
Zoya turned the left side of her face away and looked down at the floor. “You sure have a lot to learn about women.”
Marcus felt himself flushing. “Sorry…it’s just…I really think we should get you to a hospital.”
“It’s a little late for that,” she whispered.
Moscow
Sunday, June 8, 2138
10:48 p.m. MSK
The proximity alert beeped on the dashboard and Tavik’s air car slowed to a crawl as it entered the parking bay. Panicked-looking people swarmed everywhere, trying to push through the crowd or jumping into cars. More congregated around the tube lifts to the hotel towers.
“What the hell is this?” Tavik said. “Quick, get to my spot before all these cars take off.”
Tavik’s car spun and skimmed toward its normal parking space seconds before dozens of other cars took off and crowded toward the exit.
“Just in time,” Tavik said. He grinned. “They must have met Zoya.” He patted the door and it slid open. Tavik snatched up his stun rifle from the rack. People pressed around him as he climbed from the vehicle. He jabbed a man in the ribs with an elbow and raised the ugly snout of the stun rifle. “Out of my way, assholes!”
The crowd thinned as he approached the entrance arch. The three corpses there looked like toy dolls that had been used as soccer balls. There were skid and slide marks all over from the pools of blood. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the still air. Christ! Zoya did this? Tavik had trouble imagining the little waif having the guts to blow away hardened gangsters. The thought wouldn’t compute. But who else could have done it? The general? And she did just come this way…
He crab-walked by the bodies so as not to slide in the gore. His eyes slid away from the faces; he had no desire to recognize colleagues at the moment. There were three bodies ahead and two more by the lift to the left. Good. That lift doesn’t go all the way up. If she went that way. He headed across the room toward the central lift that went all the way to Viktor’s office at the tip of the pyramid. The only time he’d seen this room deserted was on the rare occasions it was shut down for renovations. It was eerie to see it like this. Chips were left stacked on most tables and scattered on the carpet. He wished he had time to scoop them all up, but what mattered now was getting to Viktor before Zoya managed to figure out how to reach him. He looked back at the carnage and felt a swell of pride in his chest. That’s my girl!
Reaching the lift, he stepped in and said, “All the way up.”
“Oi, look at that!” Kostya said, pointing at the looming pyramid.
“What’s happening?” Tyoma said. Air cars were suddenly zooming out from the middle of The Pyramid like tracer fire he’d seen in war vids.
“They just keep coming,” Kostya said.
“Down there.” Tyoma pointed at the black maw of a lower parking entrance. “No one’s using that one.”
Kostya adjusted the car’s flight. They watched in fascination as the cars continued to boil out of the casino. “I hope Tyoma’s not a part of whatever spooked them. Oh, sorry! It’s hard to figure out how to speak about you when there are two of you.”
Tyoma smiled. “I can imagine. We need to come up with a nickname for me.”
Kostya studied him for a few moments. “How about meathead?”
Tyoma laughed. “You’re a shit, you know that?” He said it with affection. “Maybe you should call me Bunny. It’s what the gangster kept calling me.”
Now it was Kostya’s turn to chuckle. “Bunny? That’s a good one. You look anything but fuzzy and lovable.”
“Anyhow, you suggested I act like whomever this guy was, so if they called him Bunny, might as well stick with it. For now at least.”
The air car zipped through the garage entrance and slowed to a crawl. Most parking spaces were full, but there were some free ones farther from the door that led into the building. Kostya settled the car into one and the pair got out.
“Okay,” Tyoma said, “I’m going to play the mute once we’re around anyone in there. What reason are you going to give for hanging around with me?”
“We can say we’re going to pick up a wounded prisoner. Tyoma said they’re holding him hostage for General Andreykin.”
“The general is involved in this?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything once we get the real you and get the hell out of here.”
The door opened onto a corridor that ran left and right. Tyoma wrinkled his nose at the smell. To the right came the sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses, and lots of talking people. The corridor to the left had a small tube lift in one wall.
“This way,” Kostya said, pointing at the lift. “Tyoma’s in a basement somewhere.”
“Give him a call. Let him know you’re here.”
“Already on it.”
They entered the lift, though Tyoma’s bulky frame made it cramped and stuffy. Kostya tilted his head to one side.
“What’s he saying?” Tyoma said.
“He’s not sure what level he’s on. He’s consulting the AI.”
“The what?”
“I told you, I’ll explain later. Anyhow, he’s got it now.” To the lift speaker he said, “Subbasement six.” They began to descend.
“Ah, you’ve deigned to join us at last!” Viktor said, his death’s head mask grinning as always but his normally blue eyes flashing red.
The steel door slid down behind Tavik as he strolled into the penthouse suite. “You know where I’ve been.” He propped the stun rifle against one side of an armchair and, holding his ribs, lowered himself into it with a sigh.
“Yes,” Viktor said, “off letting a little girl get the best of you and your men. All day long! Look at your face.”
“Those combat cards are more effective than any of us imagined,” Tavik grumbled. “Plus she’s one lucky bitch.” He glanced around at the room’s other occupants, recognizing five of the seven armed guards. “You planning for an invasion?”
“You saw what she did downstairs. I watched you come in on the monitors. She shouldn’t be able to get past my door, but there’s no need to take chances. Who knows what surprises lurk in that card’s programming?”
The steel door slid up again and three more guards entered and took up positions around the room.
“You’re leaving all the other floors defenseless,” Tavik said.
“I don’t give a damn about any other floors right now. This one is all tha
t matters.”
“She took the north lift. If she tries going all the way up, she’ll come out on the floor below us.”
Viktor’s eyes turned blue again. “Perhaps I should send you down to give her a warm reception? Why is your wireless off? I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”
“Didn’t Boris tell you?”
“He told me you ordered him to turn his off. Something about…it didn’t make any sense.”
“Zoya has some strange allies,” Tavik said. “A fat American fucker and his father. I have no idea how they’re involved in this except that they want to find the scientists. The father is able to get into your head through the wireless, break right in somehow. Says he can kill you.”
“Kill?”
“I didn’t believe him either. Then he very nearly turned my brain to mush. You wouldn’t believe the pain…” He looked at Viktor’s mask again. “…well, maybe you can, but—”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing being possible,” Viktor said. “We need that kind of technology. The things we could do with it…”
“Yeah, well…”
“This American has been in touch with us. He told us where to find Zoya and led Boris to them. His method for communicating with us was surprising, but at the time he wasn’t in the mood for explaining how he managed it. Just wanted to cut a deal. Next time he calls I’ll insist on a meeting.”
“Good luck with that,” Tavik murmured. “So you want me downstairs?”
“No, stay here,” Viktor said. “I’ll send the war bot.”
Tavik jumped up. “No, boss! We don’t need to kill her. She’s just a girl with a card. Give me a couple guys with stun rifles and—”
“What’s with you?” Viktor said. “Since when have you ever cared how we treated our guests?”
Tavik felt his face flush. “I…it’s just…well, I like Zoya. We stun her, get the card, there’s no need to off her.”
