Apocalypse's Prelude

by Carl Damen

  "After the explosion, Homeland Security was running names and one came up on a watch list: Shara Chuskus, Enhanced Human Ultimate Defender subject number 12. I requisitioned security footage, made confirmation, and have ascertained that the explosion centered around her."

  The president swallowed, his throat bulging in an almost frog-like way. "How did she explode, exactly?"

  Edarus flicked his hands briefly into the air. "She just... exploded. Through apparently preternatural means."

  "Shit." The president leaned back and ran his hands over his face a few times. He said something, but his voice was lost in the aural slurry generated by his device. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Have you spoken with Mistaren about this?"

  Edarus nodded. "First thing after I found out about this." He rested his hand on the tablet, almost felt the damning pictures held within, begging to be let out.

  "And?" The president stared at him, and it was all Edarus could do to maintain eye contact.

  He stared deeply into the face of the man he had known all his life, the adult-cousin who had for so-many years overshadowed his career. The face had changed in its long decades of public service, had aged especially in the last six years as president. The beard was nearly completely grey, the cheeks had descended into full jowls, the eyes were nearly covered by a drooping brow. In what little of the eyes Edarus could see was fear, a panic-reaction to being told that the monsters he once thought he controlled now seemed to be out of his hands.

  In that moment, Edarus realized that Isaac didn't need to see the pictures: as far as he knew, the Defenders always would be the bloody ghouls hiding in the tablet. They were weapons to be ruled and used, but always feared. He would never—had never—seen them as the people that Allen Saw, that Mistaren saw. They weren't a threat: they were hope.

  Edarus removed his hand from the tablet. "He was just as shocked as you are. We spoke about it at length and looked through some of the medical records, and he believes that Chuskus may have suffered a panic attack. During the attack, she somehow subconsciously accessed her abilities."

  Julia raised a hand fractionally off the table. "You're saying that in a moment of stress she acquiered super-powers? Excuse me for being skeptical, Ed, but this isn't a superhero movie. You don't just 'get' powers."

  "Ecept she already had the powers," Edarus explained, trying to keep his voice neutral. "The General and I spoke at some length about this, and we believe it gels with the more theoretical parts of the program. We may have modified her memories, but for everything to go as planned, her powers and training have to remain at a subconscious level. The hope was that only our triggers would activate a subject, but it looks like other things can, as well."

  "So," the president said, "we kill the program now. If they start manifesting before they're triggered, out of our control, then they're worse than useless. They're a threat. We track down the others, we take them out." There was a strange mixture of blood-lust and relief in his eyes.

  For just a moment Edarus entertained the idea of silently nodding, of letting the sensible solution be implemented, of keeping his job and eliminating this threat all in one easy movement of the head. But something about his earlier conversation, be it the words themselves or the way Mistaren had said them, weighed on him. He had already agreed to betraying his leader's trust in the name of a promotion; what was the harm in continuing the betrayal when the outcome was world peace.

  "I would... recommend a little more caution, sir."

  Isaac raised an eyebrow. He wasn't used to Edarus speaking up to him.

  "First, the Defenders are too large an investment and a potential return to throw away at the first sign of problems." The pictures seemed to hear his words, seemed to recede deeper into the tablet. "Second, there's no reason to believe circumstances will crop up that lead to another incident: Chuskus had a history of instability to begin with. Third, even if situations like this continue to happen, they pose little security risk: the subjects keep taking themselves out."

  There was a brief round of polite chuckles, then the president tapped on the table until the room fell quiet. "Alright, you make sense. For now, we stay the course. Have the General generate a list of anyone else he thinks may pose a risk, and put a little extra surveillance on them. Meanwhile, get Fendelton and... and... damn, I can never remember the other guy's name. Anyway, have them do a bit of experimentation to see if they can get answers on this." He nodded and looked around the table, satisfaction evident on his face. "If there are no other matters to discuss?"

  Heads shook around the table.

  "Okay." Isaac leaned forward and shut off his device. Immediately a faint buzzing seemed to rush in and fill the silence. "Edarus, thank you for keeping us appraised of these developments." The president stood and took a step away from the table. "Unless anything pressing comes up, I'll see you all back here monday morning."

  The meeting broke up and the others stood, conversing quietly and drifting towards the door.

  Edarus hung behind, breathing shallowly, the truth of what he had just done slowly washing over him. Treason. He had just committed treason.

  Outside, in his car, driving in stunned silence. Someone honked at him, and he realized he was on the highway, heading home back to Virginia. He looked at the seat next to him, saw the tablet, the black memory drive slotted into its side.

  Before he could stop himself he had the window down, then watched through the rear-view mirror as a continuous line of Washington-bound vehicles raced over the tablet, spreading it in ever finer pieces over the highway.

  He reached into his jacket, found his mobile, and dialed Mistaren's number.

  One ring, then, "What can I do for you, Mr. Secretary?"

  "Six months."

  The General didn't reply, but Edarus could easily imagine the smile spreading over the old man's face.

  10

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 3

  It was too late to be driving. The entire world was reduced to twin yellow lines stretching into infinity beyond a cone of light. For a moment the world disappeared, the car swerved, and Jack Dolad was awake again, blinking and shaking his head, trying desperately to stay focused until he got home. The road curved ahead, and his stomach sloshed as he took the corner. How many drinks had he had? It was just a business meeting, he should have paced himself better... He reached up under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Get home, get to sleep... Tomorrow would be better. Had to be better: he had the contract now.

  All he had to do was stay awake. Had to stay awake, had to—

  Blinking, awake again. He slapped at his face, took several deep breaths, cranked up the air conditioning until it was uncomfortably cold. Couldn't be more than ten miles.

  Lights appeared in the darkness directly ahead, bright and blue. It took Jack precious seconds to realize something was wrong: only red lights should be ahead of him. And then there was another car, a dark void behind two blinding blue points, screaming at him from the gloom.

  And then Jack was floating, surrounded by a sparkling galaxy of glass, cut loose from the grip of earth.

  And then he was down, the seats above pressing down at him, the metal of his car shrieking and twisting as it skidded along the asphalt—

  "Uncle Jack?"

  Jack snorted and sat up, the side of his face numb from pressing against the train window. "Whazza?"

  "You okay there?"

  It took Jack a moment to place the voice, a moment longer to adjust his glasses and recognize the face of his niece, Amanda Dolad. When he saw her, he felt a moment of painful disconnect. The chubby little girl he had half expected was instead a stringy, disheveled looking young woman.

  "You were kind of twitching in your sleep."

  "Mmm, yeah." Jack sat up and slid back on the bench. He ran a hand over the bristly stubble that was beginning to grow; he missed his old hair. "Where we at?"

  Amanda sat down on the bench across from him. "About twenty minutes
outside of Philly."

  "Where's your dad?"

  Amanda looked over her shoulder at the other passengers, her artificially bright red hair swinging freely. "Dunno. Said he was going to get drinks."

  "Oh." Jack stretched and yawned. "Yeah. I remember that." He tapped the side of his head. "At least memory-loss doesn't seem to be one of symptoms of this thing. After-effects. Symptoms. Don't know the right word here."

  "Dad will."

  "Yeah..."

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jack staring out at the passing country-side, Amanda engrossed in her mobile. "So," she said, "that explosion we felt back in Washington?"

  "Yeah?"

  "News on that. Apparently its a government cover-up for something."

  Jack grunted and shifted to look at his niece; despite months of physical therapy, he wasn't fully used to moving. "And how's that?"

  "Well, they're saying it was caused by a gas main explosion."

  Jack shrugged. That seemed like a good explanation to him. "How exactly does gas main equal cover-up? I mean, the system's pretty old, right?"

  Amanda nodded through Jack's response, the speed increasing as she became more excited. "Exactly. An old gas main explodes and kills a bunch of people, what do you think city officials will do? They'll hem and haw for a few weeks, saying they have absoltely no idea what could have caused this, wait for it to all blow over, then issue a little report months later that basically says, 'Yeah, it was totally a gas explosion, but it wasn't our fault.' Now its only been like six or seven hours, and they've already got a handy explanation and a plan to fix it. Nothing moves the government quite so much as a desire to cover its ass." She twisted her mouth into a sarcastic grin.

  Jack snorted. "Well, aren't you the little conspiracy nut. Counterpoint: what about 9-11? They had that figured out pretty fast."

  "Who says that wasn't a cover-up?"

  Jack folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.

  Amanda shrugged and glanced out the window. "Okay, well that was different: they saw the fucking planes go in."

  At that moment Amanda's father returned, carrying two coffees. "Hey. Let's try to keep it PG-13 here, okay?"

  "You can say 'fuck' in a PG-13."

  "You know what I mean." He looked down at Jack. "You're awake. Good, didn't want to have to get you up when we stop." He sat down next to Amanda and passed Jack a cup.

  Jack took it, then looked at his brother. Grant Dolad had always been older, but the last memory Jack had of him was as an energetic man in his early thirties. Now he was middle aged, tired looking, his face beginning to hold on to the lines and creases of everyday use. For the first time, Jack was almost thankful for the car accident, for the long sleep that followed: he looked remarkably young for thirty-seven.

  "So..." Grant glanced back and forth between brother and daughter. "How's it going? Getting to know one another a little?"

  Jack nodded. "Amanda was just telling me about the government's big metro cover-up."

  "Really?" Grant looked at his brother and raised an eyebrow.

  "Yup." Amanda dragged the mobile onto the table top and put it in the middle of their little triangle. She gestured at it, and a decidedly emotionless reporter's voice began to list off statistics as the crater suddenly came to life, swarming with rescue workers. "—have rescued twenty-three people, who have been rushed to area hospitals. There have been sixty-eight confirmed deaths, though fire and rescue officials believe an estimated hundred people still remain buried in the rubble. The mayor has released a statement apologizing to the victims of this tragedy, and stating his intention for a comprehensive reconstruction of the metro system, to be completed in the next five years. For AmeriNews, this is Melana Ruiz—"

  Amanda gestured and the playback stopped, the image frozen on a bulky grey figure with a skeletal face.

  "What's that?" Jack asked, pointing at the screen.

  "Hmm? Oh, that's an E.H.U.D."

  Grant laughed. "You should hear her conspiracies about them."

  "But what are they?"

  Amanda grabbed the mobile and began to poke and gesture at it. "Powered armor. Really cool; after your time, I guess."

  Jack grunted.

  "They're army, but Latterndale farmed them out for other uses."

  The name was familiar, but it took Jack a moment to place it. "Latterndale the president?"

  Amanda shook her head. "Latterndale the Defense Secretary." She passed the mobile to Jack. "Watch this; it'll explain."

  On the screen was a digital rendering of the E.H.U.D., rotating slowly in front of a black background. A soothing woman's voice began to speak. "The Enhanced Human Ultimate Defense, or E.H.U.D. Armor system, is the future of soldier safety in the field. This armor system allows its wearer to become a one person army, able to withstand nearly any attack and easily pacify enemy combatants with minimal loss of life."

  The rendering faded and was replaced by a single black garment, similar to a wetsuit. Then, a tangle of braces, wires and thick bladders appeared over it, followed shortly by another black suit, reinforced by large mounds of what Jack could only assume was armor. Finally, a carapace of lumpy grey slabs covered the entire apparatus. The finished E.H.U.D. stayed that way for a moment, slowly spinning all the while, before being stripped down to the first layer and repeating.

  The unseen woman continued. "The first layer of the E.H.U.D. is composed of a Gortex weave outer layer and a fiber-mesh quilting inner layer. Between these two is a special gel, which turns tremendously solid when force is applied to it. This gel allows for the absorption of impact-forces, protecting the soldier within.

  "The next layer of the suit is the pneumatic sinus system. The P.S.S. works with a soldier's natural movement to pump fluid and build up pressure, which can be stored and released during movement. This serves to strengthen body movements, as well as significantly increasing the overall strength of a soldier within the armor.

  "The next layer is composed of additional armor, containing ballistic gel like the inner suit, but also reinforcing joints and protecting the P.S.S..

  "Finally, the last layer consists of armored plates and further reinforcements to the overall system, completely encapsulating the soldier within and protecting America's bravest and boldest on the battlefield. With the Enhance Human Ultimate Defense Armor System, a soldier need never worry about chasing combatants, getting out of firing zones, or dealing with battle-field rubble ever again."

  The image of the E.H.U.D. faded and was replaced by the logo for the Department of Defense. "This video has been provided on behalf of the DoD and DHS. An informed Citizen is an active Citizen."

  Jack passed the mobile back to Amanda. "The government's gotten a lot more open since my time."

  Amanda shrugged. "Its all a smoke screen."

  Grant sighed and shook his head. "Please, don't get her started."

  "I'm kind of interested—" Jack began, but a loud tone echoing through the car interrupted him.

  "We will be arriving in Philadelphia in ten minutes. Please gather your belongings and prepare for disembarkation. As always, thank you for choosing AmeriTrak for your travel needs."

  Jack stared pointedly at Amanda. "Don't worry, we'll continue this another time."

  As a teenager, Jack had attended the grand opening of the Philadelphia Metropolitan Mall. He stood with his high-school sweetheart and about a thousand complete strangers, waiting for the mile long shopping center to fling wide its doors and let in the masses. As he waited, bored and frustrated, his attention was slowly drawn to other strcture that was opening that day. Rising from the side of the mall was a residential tower, stretching like a great needle to pierce the sky. The structure looked so fragile, the blue of the sky wrapping around the tower's mirrored surface, distorting its outline and causing it to fade from sight.

  When the mall opened minutes later, Jack let the crowd flow in around him. Despite his girlfreind's urging, he made his way into Sky Crest Tower, foun
d the office, found brochures, floor plans, pored over them, inexorably fell in love. From there it was back to school, changing career plans, going to the College of Architecture, getting his first job in the industry, then speeding don the highway, trying to get home before he fell asleep, floating through the galaxy of glass.