Freedom's End
Page 3
I push my thoughts to the side as I continue pounding him. I decide to work on his body now, inflicting as much internal damage as I can muster while I have the upper hand. He tries to dodge and block my blows, but he is always a step behind. I time them in such a way that each new punch hits before he has time to recover from the previous one. That’s when I start to see the fear in his eyes. He knows he is in trouble.
Good!
Then in the middle of my next combo, his speed increases. He probably overclocked his augments in order to keep up with me. And keep up he does as soon none of my blows manage to hit him anymore. He expertly dodges, blocks, and counters my attacks. I go for a low, sweeping round kick, hoping the sudden change of tactic will throw him off. Big mistake. He jumps out of the way with ease, and I can feel him atop my now defenseless position. I don’t know what I feel first—flying through the air or the intense throbbing pain in my cheek as a result of his powerful kick. I almost lose consciousness.
I realize in midair that I probably fried so many of TAINHA’s systems for her to take over in moments when I make a tactical mistake, just like I did a moment ago. I will probably be on my own for the rest of this fight. Part of me dreads the thought, and part of me enjoys the fact that I have to win this on my own. I also know full well this could be my ego speaking, and that could be fatal if I underestimate my opponent. Speaking of underestimating my opponent, it is clear that Ahmed isn’t doing that with me. I can see him run at me, raising his palm to incinerate me with his repulsor weapons as I crash onto the ground on my already wounded shoulder. The pain is excruciating; more than it should be. I probably damaged the nanites assigned to lower the feedback from my pain receptors.
That’s when I decide it’s time to throw him a curveball before he can try to turn me into charred meat. I hear his weapon humming when I spring into action. Fortunately, my automatic targeting systems are still operational. Without them, pulling what’s coming next could be tricky at best. I throw two of my guided shuriken. Their edges are nanometer thin and made of the same material as my nano-blade. Each of them lodges right in the center of his repulsor weapons that were turning red hot, ready to incinerate me. Instead of firing deadly plasma, I see sparks bursting out of them.
Try incinerating anything now, asshole!
I jump back to my feet, and while Ahmed is looking at the damage and removing my shuriken from his palms, I send him flying with a powerful reverse roundhouse kick. I have no doubt he is equipped with nanites that will mend the damage I have inflicted on his tech. But it will take time, and I fully intend to end his life before that time has come. I grab my last sonic grenade and throw it at him before his body hits the ground from my latest blow. I close my eyes and cover my ears, doubting that my augments will negate the effect of the grenade at such close range after everything I put my enhanced body through minutes earlier.
It detonates just under his body, and he is catapulted into the air, spinning wildly. He is propelled at least thirty-five feet when I activate my dagger-claws implant. Four long and highly sharpened blades spring to life from my right hand.
Time to finish this.
I quickly crouch, divert all power to my super-strength leg implants, and launch myself into the air after him.
Ahmed is still spinning when I reach him. He flings an approximate kick at me, trying to send me back down, but I see it coming a mile away. I grab his extended leg and use it as an athlete would a support beam. I jump upward and somersault over him. When I’m done spinning, I thrust the claws deep in his back, the blades traveling through his flesh, bones, and armor. The pleasure I get from this is intense.
“That’s got to hurt,” I say, grinning ear to ear.
We’re now plunging back toward the roof of the building. My claws are still dug into Ahmed. His time has come. I feel the urge to prolong his suffering, but many of my augments are sending me superimposed visual warnings, so much so that I need to deactivate my neural HUD altogether. It’s too distracting, like an over-decorated, flickering Christmas tree. I crouch on top of his back to prepare for landing and retract my claws just before impact. The blades are coated with his bright crimson blood. I use his body as a skateboard as we skid on the ground for another ten yards, leaving his blood trail in our wake.
That should do it. Now I can finally finish him off.
I step off him as I magnetically unlock my secondary blaster rifle from my back armor plating and check its charge and functions. He rolls on his back, a painful groan escapes him, half of his face disfigured from skidding on the hard and coarse concrete. That makes this fight, this execution, all the more satisfying. Then he starts laughing through gritted teeth as blood bubbles from his mouth.
“What is so funny, asshole?”
“You are . . . you think you’ve won.”
“Need a mirror to see what you look like? I have stopped your plan, and I have beaten you. Laugh all you want, but these are your last moments on this Earth, so please, be my guest and enjoy them, all twenty seconds of it,” I say as I aim my blaster rifle nozzle at the middle of his head.
I charge the weapon to max settings. It takes a few seconds of humming, and it’s a little slower than usual, probably because of the power overload.
“Any last words?”
Ahmed tries to speak, but instead, he coughs up a large amount of blood. Eventually, he manages to mutter, “You think you are doing good but you couldn’t be . . . more wrong.”
I shake my head from side to side as he continues.
“The mega corporations are using . . .” he coughs more blood. “You . . . They probably told you that you are preventing my attacks by . . . ugh . . . traveling back in time. But you aren’t. Somewhere . . . sometime . . . I have blown that building and that city into a hellish inferno, and you weren’t there to stop it.”
He attempts to smile. From the amount of blood he has lost, I figure finishing him off by blowing his head to bits is probably only for my own satisfaction than out of real necessity. I decide I’m going to enjoy that moment, nonetheless. It’s been years since this asshole had first escaped me. Sure, I always managed my primary target to prevent his plans for mass destruction on our planet. But could he be right? Could I travel to another timeline when I jump back after preventing his actions? Not only am I not versed in time travel physics, but the whole thing gives me a headache, even when TAINHA tries to explain it in the simplest of terms. All I know is, I get a mission objective, and I always deliver. That’s my job and, since my wife passed away, it’s actually been my whole life. Today is no different, except this time he won’t escape, and I won’t have to stop his next attack. Another zealot with a thirst for martyrdom and fame will take his place, of that I have no doubt. But the life of Ahmed Al’Hasi ends here and now.
I spit on him. “You will say anything to plant doubts in my head. You’re an expert at brainwashing others, but I’m not your usual weak-willed suggestible mind.”
“One day . . . you’ll understand.”
“However, that day is not today. Time to say goodbye, I’m afraid.”
The blaster is at full charge; at this distance and its supercharged level, the blaster will incinerate his head and probably most of his upper torso. I relish the thought of depressing the trigger.
“Cole?” he says while coughing more blood.
“We’re done talking.”
“Goodbye. Till next time, that is,” he replies.
I hear a buzz of static inside my head. Could it be TAINHA?
“There won’t be a next time ass—”
Before I can finish my sentence, something hits my throat at extreme velocity. I can sense it traveling through my neck from side to side, and I can’t speak anymore. I try, but I feel a viscous liquid in my throat and a taste of metal.
Was I just hit?
Ahmed smiles broadly, and I re-aim the gun and depress the trigger, but I’m too late. He kicks it out of my hand the moment the blaster shoots. It creates a c
rater in the concrete a couple of feet away from his face.
I put my hands on my neck and feel both the entry and exit wound. I turn in the direction of where the shot came from. I use my vision augment to zoom for a mile, then two then five. That’s when I see him. A sniper is lying down on concrete atop another skyscraper, the sun reflecting off his visor. I try to activate emergency healing nanites, but they don’t respond. I get an error message instead. I deep-fried them, no doubt. TAINHA was right. I’m insane, and it looks like I’m also about to die. The thought sends my brain into a weird mixture of terror and satisfaction. On the one hand, I can’t fathom how pissed I am at failing to kill Ahmed, even though I have managed to stop him incinerating New Geneva. I was a few seconds away from removing this scourge from the world. And then another sensation superimposes itself in my mind: that the fight is over, that it is the end, and that I will rejoin my wife in the afterlife if there is such a thing.
Ahmed rises to his feet slowly, pain etched on his face, his nanites already mending his wounds, but I can’t say the same about my own body. I shouldn’t have used bullet-time earlier. That’s what I get for not listening to my instincts. It should have been kept in reserve for this as I planned it. I would have heard the smart bullet that hit me if I had. I only realize I have fallen to my knees when I look back at Ahmed who is now looking down on me.
“As always, it’s been a pleasure, my friend.”
I want to scream back at him, to tell him I’m not his friend and that I’m gonna rip his heart out and shove it down his throat, but instead I feel bubbles of blood expanding and bursting from the holes in my neck.
“I’m afraid your last words will have to be silent ones. Farewell, Agent Cole Seeker.”
He lowers his face and puts two fingers to his temple, then waves them away as if to say goodbye.
He turns and limps toward his ship, the loading ramp of his craft lowering automatically upon his approach.
The amount of rage boiling inside me is beyond anything I have experienced. Our fight has been so quick I could have taken him with my twenty percent or so reserve with fully functioning augments. I would be healing from this wound right now if I had. But it’s too late. I can’t change the past, not if I die on this roof, anyway. The irony is not lost on me though. I’m a time traveler agent whose sole purpose is to try to change the past to make a better future. I try to engage the emergency recall. I never had to use it, and I never wanted to . . . It would mean acknowledging I have failed in my mission. But I can’t seem to access this augment. Not that it would do me any good; the evac response team in charge of bringing me back in time would probably not make it before I draw my last breath, which is now very near; I can feel it.
My rage intensifies and a natural release of adrenaline happens. I decide that if I die, so does he. I get back to my feet and start running. My blaster is aimed at Ahmed. I can still use my super speed. I roll to the ground to grab the blaster and set it to overload as I lock it magnetically on my chest. I’m going to need all my strength and both my hands to grab onto Ahmed.
I hear another shot, and a split second later I feel a bullet travel through my right thigh. Sparks fly as the bullet hits the mechanically enhanced augment inside that particular area of my leg. I lose balance and stumble forward, but I manage by a miracle not to fall to the ground.
Ahmed turns to face me. I’m still a good ten yards from him, and I’m now limping.
“Agent Seeker, what are we going to do with you?”
He opens his right palm and a blaster pistol flies from his ship and magnetically locks into his hand. He aims and fires at me.
It hits my blaster, still overloading, but it doesn’t explode right away. Instead, it flies up, spinning in the air, making a high-pitched screeching noise as I am catapulted backward from the blaster impact. Before I hit the ground, my blaster explodes and flames spring around it. Ahmed erects a personal shield that protects him from the inferno. I am not so lucky, and I can feel the intense heat and flames burn my flesh as I close my eyes.
I can’t see him anymore, but I can hear his footsteps traveling away from my position. The sound changes as he steps onto the metal ramp of his ship.
I have failed. I’m about to die. My brain can’t process the enormity of it all.
How could I fail? How could I have been so stupid?
Instead of just enjoying the moment, I could have finished him off, ten times over.
I try to pry my eyes open but only my left eye opens, and only partially. It’s enough to see the dark-gray sky above. The sun is now behind a vast, dark cloud.
I hear the engines of Ahmed’s ship hum to life, and I feel the ground shaking when it lifts off.
“Agent Seeker,” I hear his voice booming through his ship’s speakers. “It’s been fun as always, but now it’s time to say goodbye for good.”
I muster what’s left of my strength and bring my head up. The pain from my neck wound makes it near impossible, but I fight through it and manage to see a blurred image of the ship now hovering atop the roof of the building that is sure to become my grave.
I hear his plasma guns powering up.
“Allahu Akbar,” says Ahmed through his speakers.
The last thing I see is two bright-green plasma shots coming my way.
Three
I scream from the bottom of my lungs, and I’m surprised to hear my own voice. I’m standing on my bed in my apartment, soaking in sweat.
“Condition red! Emergency shield activating,” says TAINHA in a panicked voice.
I see the flashing red cubic-shaped shield come to life around my bed as the emergency lights in my apartment come on. They give every piece of furniture and every wall a reddish hue.
What the feck? A nightmare?
It takes my augmented brain a couple of seconds to compute and realize that I am still alive, safe and sound in my room. I can feel my heart beat so fast that it feels like it wants to break free from my chest, break through and get the feck off this planet. I know TAINHA is talking to me; I hear her voice intonation, but right now I can’t make out what she’s saying.
I have had nightmares before, but this one felt more real than any other lucid dream I ever had in my wretched life. It’s like I died and was resurrected, and my brain has trouble dealing with it all. I feel dizzy, disoriented, and terrified all at the same time. Small rivers of sweat are traveling down my face.
“Cole . . .” I barely register what TAINHA says. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
TAINHA is genuinely worried about me. Heck, I’m worried.
“I’m okay . . . I think. What’s the date?”
“Earth year 2175, the seventh of March. It’s six twenty-three in the morning, Cole.”
The date matches the mission. I wonder if that wasn’t a dream but something else . . . Perhaps I’ll be put into active duty later today?
What the hell does it all mean?
“Should I call a medical emergency, Cole? Your vitals are worrying me; your heart rate is off the charts.”
Of that, I have no doubt. I feel like my flesh is still burning and I’m being consumed by plasma fire.
“Negative,” I say, trying to calm myself down.
“What the hell happened, Cole?”
“The only explanation that makes sense right now is the mother of all nightmares.”
“That must have been one hell of a nightmare to send most of your body’s vitals into overdrive like this.”
“That it was . . .” I correct myself. “It was something else.”
“I’ve released a tranquilizer into your bloodstream via your nanites to help you regulate your heartbeat and counteract the adrenaline overload you have received from this—experience.”
TAINHA turns off the force field around my bed.
I bury my face in my hands. I can already feel the soothing effect of the tranquilizers acting on my system. I’m starting to breathe more deeply. It also calms my internal cha
tter. I am a little more focused now, less overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the lingering memories. I still struggle with the concept of this being a dream; even when I try to convince myself of it, I feel it in my heart and deep down in my bones that I could be wrong.
I need a shower.
Before I have time to ask TAINHA, I can already hear the water splashing in my bathroom. I sit on the edge of my bed, looking at my feet. The feeling of the soft carpet under my toes is soothing me. I look at my naked body, I see no new scars, no damage from the fight with Ahmed. All evidence suggests this was a nightmare.
“I can sense your internal turmoil, Cole; perhaps we could talk about it? Would you like that?”
“Later, TAINHA, but thank you.”
“At your service, as always, Cole. You know you can tell me anything.”
I know, indeed. Truth be told, I would probably go insane if it weren’t for her. And I don’t think of her as a thing either. Her AI matrix is so advanced, and she demonstrates so many emotions that I sometimes think she is more human than I ever will be. Perhaps she is.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cole, but I appreciate the compliment.”
I must be broadcasting my thoughts all over the place.
“Engage privacy mode, TAINHA.”
“Have I said something wrong?”
“No, TAINHA, but I need to be alone with my thoughts, even if just for a little while.”
I hear a beep inside my head, and I can feel TAINHA’s subtle assistance on my body turn off. I don’t really need her help outside of deployment, but I’ve become accustomed to leaving her on most of the time. I feel sorry for deactivating her during my sleep, but nighttime is the only moment when I can escape it all. The last thing I want is for my AI augment to see my most intimate fantasies. But now I wished she had been online to record this. At least if she replayed the dream to me, I could be sure it was one.
When I arrive under the shower, the water splashes against my skin at a perfect one hundred and seven degrees Fahrenheit. It doesn’t take long for me to relax. Water has always soothed me. Nowadays, it’s a privilege to have a water showers with all the restrictions and the quotas that are put in place to conserve what little fresh water reserves are left on Earth. Being one of very few Time Agents for the Rewind project, I can have whatever I want. All the luxuries that only the ultra-rich can afford are given to me, no questions asked. I can eat anything I want, meat, honey, wine . . . I sometimes feel self-conscious about all of that.