by J. N. Chaney
“That would be level five and the oxygen reclaiming process,” Iris said. She changed the holographic picture in her palm to a room filled with humming machines. “But like everything else, it is carefully guarded and—”
“Carefully guarded doesn’t really apply to trained saboteurs who are invisible,” I said. “Not when they can sneak in with someone who has access to the room.”
“Iris, what’s that?” Stacy nearly yelled as she stabbed a finger at the image in front of us.
I followed her eyes to a large square machine of some kind that let out a billow of smoke. My heart seized in my chest. The smoke looked like it was hitting someone or something hunched down by the ground. The invisible figure was only able to be seen by their outline, thanks to the steam behind them.
“Let’s go!” I said, racing for the door.
“Iris, tell Elon and Arun, and have as many suits as you can lock down the level,” Stacy said, already turning to join me.
“Understood,” Iris said as we ran for the elevator.
It was impossible to tell if we were going to be too late. I had no idea how long the terrorist had been there and how long it would take them to finish whatever it was they were doing.
Stacy and I sprinted for the elevator like the god of Hades was behind us. We pushed past people, receiving shouts of anger in return. If they only knew what we were up to, they would be shouting for us to hurry.
I didn’t want to think what chemical agent the Disciple would be introducing into our air system. I ran faster.
15
I ran harder than I could ever remember going before. Once we reached the elevator on the garden level, Stacy swiped her magic holo card and got us a lift to level five. It felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a minute.
“We’ll probably get there first,” Stacy said, removing her blaster from a holster on the small of her back and checking it. “Stay behind me.”
I wasn’t that familiar with the model of blaster she held, but I was a fan of the old-school ballistic weapon previously used on Earth. They were more of historical items now. What Stacy carried reminded me of a fat 1911 with a few extra buttons by the grip. I assumed that was where the user toggle was between deadly force and a stun bolt.
“I’m not arguing; you’re the one with the blaster,” I said, eyeing it again.
“Iris, talk to me,” Stacy said as she pulled out her holo card with her other hand. “I need directions.”
“I’ve lost sight of the Disciple.” Iris gave us the bad news in her usual crisp tone. “I’m checking alternate cameras now to see if I can pick up his trace. He was last spotted down the right corridor, leading to a room on your right where the oxygen purifiers are held. I’ve also routed all available Civil Authority Officers to the level and informed Elon and Arun.”
“Thank you,” said Stacy, and the elevator doors opened in front of us.
She burst into the hall, running down through an open room and to the right.
I followed behind. My heart was pumping and not just because my legs were racing but because the adrenaline was kicking in. What kind of moron with no skin in the game sticks his neck out to go on a hunt for an invisible terrorist?
Maybe you’re invested in the success of this mission more than you think, a voice said in my head.
There was no time to sit and think if I was getting soft now. We followed Iris’ direction, making a right and then following that with another right into an open room. The Oxygen Recycling level wasn’t like the garden level or the tech department at all. This area had walls off-shooting to rooms and corridors. It was like a maze on the level, and I was starting to feel like a rat.
The room in front of us looked a lot like the hologram Iris showed us. It was alive with puffs of steam and smoke coming from square machines taller than I was. There were hundreds, hell maybe even thousands of pipes running from the machine up to the ceiling and to another room or possibly another level. I couldn’t be sure.
The hissing coming from the machines and the dull humming they made ensured we would neither be able to see nor hear the enemy coming.
“Well, this is something out of a nightmare,” Stacy breathed just above a whisper and motioned to her left.
“We should split up,” I whispered back. “If we go left and he gets out of here on the right, we’re done for. I’ll take the right. You go left.”
The look in Stacy’s eye told me she wanted to disagree but saw the value in the plan. Instead of words, she just nodded. “Be careful.”
“Of course. It’s me you’re talking about.”
“I know. That’s why I’m saying it,” Stacy said, moving down around the left side of the machine.
She was quickly consumed by the smoke and steam shooting from the machines in front of us.
I lifted my fists to a position just below my jaw. I knew right now it wouldn’t do much, but it felt comfortable, and I could be ready to block a blow to my head in a split second.
I crouched low to the ground, trying to use the steam and smoke spitting out of the machines to my own advantage. If I couldn’t see him, then maybe the steam would help in masking me as well.
I was practically shaking as I moved deeper into the room. I wasn’t scared. I was a coiled spring ready to pounce in the blink of an eye. I refused to let this guy get the drop on me for the second time that day. The dull ache in my ribs was a reminder of what had happened only hours before.
I maneuvered around the machines, willing myself to see something, anything in the mist and smoke that billowed forth. I didn’t realize I wasn’t blinking until my eyes started to water and burn.
I stayed low, pressing myself to the machines that I came across one by one. The room was so large, and there were so many of them, I was beginning to think the terrorist might have slid past me. But then I saw him.
A machine to my left coughed a cloud of steam at him, revealing his silhouette for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he had his back toward me and I had the jump on him, or if he was staring at me. What I could tell by his silhouette was that it was either a man or a large woman.
They bolted forward, making the smoke swirl as they crossed the space between us. I lost the silhouette of my enemy in front of me in the second it took for him or her to pounce. I calculated the time it would have taken for the saboteur to cross the distance. As far as I knew, he or she didn’t know I could see them in the smoke.
I sprang upward, trying to guess when the Disciple was going to collide with me. We hit each another with enough force to rattle my teeth. We fell backward on the ground, rolling together. I wasn’t about to let the Disciple out of my grasp this time. If I held on to them, they couldn’t use their cloak device to its fullest potential.
I received an elbow to my face as I surrendered the top position to my enemy. My hands were busy around my assailant’s arms and torso, searching for the device that provided the cloaking shield around them. It didn’t seem as if they were wearing any type of blanket or coat.
I was ninety percent sure I was grappling with a man at this point. A blow landed across my jaw and another on my temple. I was rewarded from the licks I was taking, as my right hand caught his left wrist. What felt like a thick watch touched my fingertips.
I ripped it off with both hands, receiving another elbow to my face for my trouble. I ignored the pain, concentrating all my effort into tearing off the device. Finally, the strap broke in my hands.
The Disciple I had seen that morning came into view. The same black-clad figure, fully equipped with a hood and crimson mask. The mask reached from the bridge of his nose down to his neck.
His eyes were the only thing I could fully see. Somehow, I felt like I knew him—like I had seen those eyes before. Figuring this part out would have to wait. Suddenly, his hands were around my neck.
I grabbed on to them, trying to pry them loose. He was sitting on my chest, constricting my breathing. I clawed at his fingers around my throa
t as my vision blurred and the oxygen to my brain slowed.
“Whoever you are, you will not act as a voice to our oppressors,” the man said in a thick Russian accent. “You who stand with the defilers will all suffer the same fate of ash and blood.”
I doubted that even if my head weren’t swimming, I would have been able to make sense of the biblical-like words coming from his mouth. This guy was two sandwiches short of a picnic.
“Let him go, or I’m going to paint your brains all over this room,” Stacy said, appearing in the mist behind him. She held her blaster to the base of his skull. “Slowly, let him go.”
The Disciple’s eyes were massive, as if he were thinking of holding on to my throat and sacrificing himself right there and then. Something made him think better of it. He released his grip on me and slowly raised his arms on either side of his body.
“Took—” I coughed before finishing my thought. “Took you long enough.”
My throat felt bruised. My lungs were on fire, and the spots in front of my eyes were just barely clearing.
“I want you to stand up and lace your fingers behind your head,” Stacy told her prisoner. She took a step back to create distance from herself and her target. “Do you believe me when I say if you try anything, I will not hesitate to pump your body so full of blaster rounds, no one will be able to identify your corpse?”
“I do,” the Disciple said, following her directions. He stood on his feet, alleviating the pressure on my chest. He interlaced his long fingers behind his head. “But you should also know there will be consequences for you. If not in this life, you shall pay for your crimes in the next.”
“Well, I guess I’ll take my chances with that,” Stacy responded.
I slid out from under him, rising to my feet. In my right hand, I still held the device he had used to cloak himself.
“You’re a real piece of work,” I said, staring into his crazed eyes. “The only thing you have to look forward to is a cell here on this ship and another one once we land. I’ll request you get the one with no windows, just the hole in the ground. You know, for trying to spread rabies to the animals and poison our water.”
“The blood of the innocent is the only thing that can renew the truth of our history,” he said, grinning. “You will see this in time. You’re marked for something much greater than you think. I can see it.”
At that moment, a pair of suits entered my peripheral vision. As soon as I turned to see who was coming around the corner of the machine to my right, I knew it was a mistake. My eyes came off the Disciple for a split second.
The pair of suits were just doing their job, coming to help. Sent by Iris, I was sure they really had no idea what was going on.
The Disciple took advantage of the momentary distraction. He pivoted, snapping out with a left kick behind him.
Stacy’s blaster went off as she was knocked backward. The Disciple’s foot connected with her gut. Her blaster skidded on the floor, lost somewhere in the chaos that followed.
16
This Disciple freak of nature had gone through some hard-core training before coming onto the Orion. As soon as he kicked Stacy, he bolted for the exit.
I had planned on reaching out and grabbing him, but at the same time the shot rang out from Stacy’s blaster, a burning pain jolted through my left shoulder. I looked down, and it took me a moment to realize the rogue round had grazed me.
I was more pissed off than anything else as I directed my attention back at the escaping Disciple. The Disciple pounded one of the suits in the face with a vicious right hook, sending him to the ground. The other wasn’t so lucky as the black-clad Disciple twisted his neck around with a sick pop.
Each act took no more than a second. In two heartbeats, he was off again, running for the elevator. The bodies of the two suits lay slumped on the ground under my feet as I took off, leaping over them.
No, not again! I screamed in my head. Not this time!
Somewhere behind me, I heard Stacy’s footsteps and knew she was close behind. Right now, I was singularly focused on taking down the Disciple in front of me.
We made two lefts, retracing our steps back to the elevator. The Disciple made it to the closed doors of the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly for it to come. Unlucky for him, he didn’t have the holo card Stacy did to expedite its arrival.
He turned as he heard me coming, assuming a defensive stance with his knees bent and his hands near his face.
Finally, a fight I would be used to. I slowed my progress, rolling my shoulders. I stretched my neck from side to side preparing to engage in the exact event I was best at in this world. We began to circle one another. Our fighting styles were different but just as effective.
I turned to my training and we went at it. Now that I could actually see my opponent, the fight wouldn’t go so well for him. I think he was surprised as I dodged his first two attacks and laid into his face, making it my personal punching bag. I broke his nose with my next left.
“You will burn with the rest of the non-believers,” he said with a sneer. “You will—”
I’m not sure what he was going to say next. Stacy arrived on the scene and barreled into him with her right shoulder. She slammed him against the still closed elevator doors, taking the air out of him and forcing him to his knees.
Without mercy, she hammered him across the face with a closed right fist. As a testament to how tough this guy was, he struck out with his own right fist to the side of Stacy’s left hip.
She yelled with what sounded more like a growl and limped backward. The Disciple sprang to his feet. I was on him again. I slammed my fist into his stomach. He doubled over, exposing his head. Stacy took the opportunity to grab the back of his skull with both of her hands, driving it down into her right knee.
A loud, satisfying crack echoed through the hall. The world went black for our Disciple friend. I spat a wad of blood on the ground, remembering how hurt and beat up I really was. I looked over to Stacy, and she didn’t look much better. Her hair was a wild mess with blood coming from her nose. Her left eye was beginning to swell, and she favored her left hip.
“You sure you don’t want to become a Civil Authority Officer?” she asked with a grin. “You’d make a good suit. Fair warning, you’d probably have to shave and cut your hair. On the upside, the benefits are great and the pay is decent.”
The elevator doors opened, and a squad of heavily armed suits exited, equipped with riot shields, stun batons, and blaster rifles.
“Easy, easy.” Stacy showed her open hands in a sign of surrender. “We got him. I’m Special Agent Stacy Wilson. I’m just going to reach into my pocket to show you my credentials.”
“Where were you guys ten minutes ago?” I asked, shaking my head. “Hell, I would have settled for five minutes.”
They ignored my question, still training their weapons on me. Their eyes widened as they saw the Disciple at our feet.
They lowered their weapons, reassured at the message on Stacy’s holo card that she was who she said she was. They secured the unconscious Disciple by both his wrists and ankles. He was propped up in a sitting position against the wall.
One thing still bothered me. I knew I’d heard that Russian accent before. I leaned down, grabbing the crimson mask that covered most of his face and pulled. It was the same guy that had tried to choke me out and pulled me off the Warlord the day before, back in the shuttle.
Sure, it could have been a coincidence that he had been right next to me when that all went down, but I didn’t believe in coincidence. Were the Warlords working with the Disciples, or was I just acting like a crazed conspiracy nut?
These questions and more crossed my mind as I looked down on him. Stacy spoke to the suit in charge. She was informing them of the two men he had wounded earlier.
The elevator doors opened again, Elon and Arun stepped out. It was strange not to see the easy smile on Elon’s face. Much like his sister, he was stoic.
�
�You two did well,” Arun said, looking to Stacy and me. “Though I believe another trip to Doctor Allbright will be in order.”
I dug into my pocket, where I had jammed the cloaking device.
“Here,” I said, handing it to Arun. “This is what he was using to sneak around.”
“Thank you,” Arun said, accepting the piece of tech. “You saved us from another catastrophe. Although some of the damage will be difficult to resolve.”
“The water supply?” Stacy asked.
“The reserve is intact and free of the virus,” Elon said. “We’re going to have to break the news to the ship soon. Questions will arise as to why water is being rationed and now only for drinking. This isn’t the beginning to our journey that I had envisioned.”
“The relationship between Eternal and Transient hasn’t exactly been the best,” Arun added. “Those on board are grateful for the opportunity to start over, but I’m not sure if their loyalty will crack under the pressure of this new information.”
“Are you going to tell them everything?” I asked. “I mean, about the Disciple?”
“I know Elon wants to disclose everything.” Arun looked over at her brother, who was slowly nodding his head in agreement. “I’m not convinced. We need to tell them what’s going on without starting a panic. If they think there are other Disciples on board, this could turn into a scenario where fear and distrust tear this colony apart before we even reach Kronos Five.”
I didn’t envy the situation Arun and Elon were finding themselves in. On the one hand, I understood the necessity of keeping secrets. On the other, maybe just coming clean with this whole thing would result in people understanding and keeping their cool.
“Hey, is this yours?” Stacy asked, leaning down to pick up my medallion. It dangled from the broken chain. “It must have been torn off you in the fight.”
I massaged my neck, realizing that the chain was gone. A surge of panic washed over me as I realized I had almost lost it altogether.
