"What would you have me do, Captain? Put my people's lives at risk for a few lousy—"
"You said it yourself—the drones go in first. I just expect you to use them more wisely. Lay suppressing fire, deploy sick bombs and tech suppressors, then drop in and make some arrests. This isn't a war zone, and you're not a soldier attacking foreign enemies. The objective is to make progress, not body counts."
"Understood, Captain." Her expression suggested otherwise, but Ronnie knew she would at least consider alternative strategies the next time.
Ronnie glanced at the dead vigilante. "But, I understand how interference can throw everything off. Who is this guy?"
"Just a kid. Twenty-two-year-old from Manhaven. His online records show a lot of interaction with the Cult of V boards. Looks like he was inspired to try to be one of those Vigilant nutjobs."
"Yeah—now look at him." Ronnie sighed, gesturing for the nearest android to process the body. "What a waste."
Brooks tapped her holoband, projecting a holographic display. "Cult of V posts something nearly every day. Video, propaganda hashtags, blogs, digital meetings. Can't we do anything about them?"
Ronnie glanced at the screen, where a silver helmet rotated under a red, glowing letter V. "They're not breaking any laws, Sergeant. Freedom of speech, civil liberties and all that. No one's been able to connect a direct link between them and the vigilante activity so far."
"But it can't be a coincidence that the activity started only after this Sentry person started posting manifestos."
"I know. But whoever Sentry is, she's careful. If the Cult of V is directing any vigilantes, it's not through the site. We have people working on it."
"If you need any volunteers—"
Ronnie smiled. "You have enough on your plate, Sergeant. Let's get this scene wrapped up and regroup later."
"Right, Captain."
Ronnie glanced up at Isaac when Brooks walked off to confer with her officers. "Being mighty tight-lipped there, Mr. Silent Type."
He shrugged. "Just observing. Bethany has done well for herself."
"Bethany? You're on a first-name basis with the Sergeant? Hmm."
"We were in the same Academy. Used to be friends before…" he trailed off, looking at his reflection on the surface of a broken window nearby.
Ronnie's face softened. "I'm sorry, Isaac."
"Don't be. Things change. Point is, she's a good officer."
"She's a bulldog."
"Yeah. Reminds me of someone."
Ronnie looked up in surprise. "What? I'm not anything like—"
"That's why you give her a hard time. She's too much like you."
Ronnie shook her head with a grin. "If that was true, she's the best officer on the force."
"Yeah, and humblest too, I bet."
"Ooh, nice one. Come on, there's nothing else to see here. Besides, it's too hot."
"Yeah, still no relief in the forecast. Last thing we need. Crime always skyrockets in a heat wave."
"Not to mention amateur attempted crime-stopping."
"Poor kid. He never had a chance. Speaking of, all this Vigilant stuff makes it extremely difficult to narrow down any leads on the guy that started it all."
"Vigil." Ronnie slid back into the driver's seat of her aerodyne, grateful for the blast of cool air. She recalled the last time she saw him, leaping from the darkness to take down a lumbering military mech to save her life. "Nothing confirmed for months, just countless reports of activity. I wonder what in the world he's up to right now."
Ⓥ
Deep in the darkness of the Underbelly, Vigil battled a trio of Beasts.
Faces hidden by bestial masks, dressed in clothing darker than black, they blended with heavy shadows like he did. Their nightvision-assisted eyes glimmered like polished amber; his visor glowed with scarlet light. To his right was a Leopard, to his left a Wolf.
In front of him was a Lion.
Vigil shifted as they flanked him, each seeking his back for a quick opportunity to strike him from a blind spot. The Lion was the largest of the trio, moving slightly slower, golden mane swaying with every movement. His fingertips gleamed with five-inch claws that cut through steel like moldy bread. Vigil's left g-span was proof: shredded and nearly disabled, throwing off occasional sparks from the damage, barely saving Vigil from a severed arm.
With a pop of expelled gas, the Wolf fired a cable from her gauntlet that wrapped around his legs. The Leopard leaped at the same moment, twiring a double-sided laser staff. Vigil tapped his wrist; a laser-edged blade slid out the holding as his threat detector activated an omni-shield from his right g-span. The staff struck in a shower of sparks as the Wolf triggered an electric charge through the cable. His armor barely withstood the deadly current. A downward swing of the energy blade cut through the cable. With his legs freed, his boot thrusters fired, allowing him to ram the Leopard, knocking him head-over-heels.
The Lion charged, claws gleaming in the dull light. Vigil blocked and counterattacked, g-spans glowing blue with every energy-charged blow. He ducked a nearly lethal attack, pivoting to kick the Wolf in her stomach and smash her into the wall in an explosion of dust and crumbling mortar. The Lion struck him in the back, tangling his claws in Vigil's flex-mesh cape. Vigil disengaged the fabric, thrust it into the Lion's masked face, and leaped backward, g-span humming as it charged. Squeezing the trigger in his palm, he discharged a powerful pulse blast into the Lion's chest that shattered his gold-trimmed armor.
Never slowing, Vigil whirled and caught the Leopard's wrist with one hand, the staff's handle with the other. Using his superior strength, he twisted, wresting the weapon away. Twirling it, he struck the Leopard across his head, destroying the mask in a shower of glimmering sparks. He shifted the staff backward in the same flow of movement, catching the Wolf in the chest. She gurgled as her armor cracked along with her sternum. Vigil shifted the staff, caught her legs, and swept them from under her. She slammed against the dusty flagstones and went limp.
Vigil finished off the Leopard with an electric blast from his g-span as he walked past, eyes on the Lion, who clutched his smoldering armor, groaning as he tried to sit up. Vigil slammed a boot into his chest and snatched the glorious Lion helmet off.
The man underneath was just as regal: perfectly chiseled face, golden hair, and hazel eyes that glimmered like finely cut gems. His expression was a mix of pain and mortification, marked by the shame of being taken down by what he considered a lesser being.
Vigil was used to it.
He held his glowing hand only inches away from the Lion's face, painting it in electric blue light. "You three are the last of the Beasts. Surrender, and I'll bring you to justice."
"Justice?" The Lion spat at Vigil's feet. "I've seen your justice in our blood spilled on the streets."
"That was your justice, delivered by your leaders. If you don't like it, you shouldn't have preyed on children."
"I didn't. We were just security."
"You profited. You were a part of the operation."
"You have no idea what you're doing, little man. We all have parts to play in this little simulation. We're just pieces on the board."
Vigil leaned closer, visor pulsing with crimson light. "I'm not playing your game. I'm ending it."
The Lion's laughter was thick with scorn. "You can't end something that you don't understand. Don't you get it? You're able to do these things because Haven Core allows you to. Because you amuse them. You're entertainment, that's all. And the moment you cease to divert their attention, the moment you become an annoyance … you're finished."
"I'll take my chances. Right now, you're finished. I'm taking you in."
The Lion's face twisted with scorn. "You take us in and we're dead. You should know that by now. Kill us now and get it over with."
"How are they doing it?"
"Killing us? Through the Light Switch."
"What's that?"
The Lion tapped a clawed finger against his
head. "Chip in the head. Everyone in the Haven has one. Call it the price of admission. Opens up the mind to all the goodies Haven life offers … and does a nice job of instant execution when the situation calls for it. The public trial last year was just a show for the masses. They're not bothering with it anymore. Not when they can kill us with a flip of a switch. Just like the others you brought to the surface. Every single one died in police custody, didn't they?"
Vigil hesitated. "Yes. Hemorrhaging in their brains."
"That's right. Which is why we chose the tunnels, deep under the city where their signal can't penetrate. Not all of us were in for the perverted sex games. For some of us, it was an escape. A bid for freedom. And you had to go and blow it all up in some misguided attempt at heroism. Even now, you can't do the real dirty work. You'd rather let someone else do the killing than do it yourself. Why—so you can sleep better at night? So you can call yourself a hero? You're no hero; you're just a pretender."
"I'll be a pretender if it means stopping your operation. You'd better hope we'll be able to figure out how to deal with the Light Switch when we get topside."
The Lion's perfect teeth clamped together. "Hope? Save it for the weaklings that buy into it. I'm a Denizen of Haven Core. We chose how we wanted to live, and we'll choose how we die. Too bad you won't be able to say the same."
He slapped a hand on the bulky case attached to his belt. Ominous red dots blinked on the display. Vigil turned and ran toward the chamber exit, boot thrusters firing to propel him faster. The explosion followed, ramming into him in a wave of flame and searing heat. He didn't know if his armor held up or not because the sheer force sent him spinning into unconsciousness.
***
The light flickered in colors that shouldn't have existed, transforming the entire skyline into something unreal, like the hallucinogenic moments between dreams and awakening. Glimmering flecks glinted, leaving streaks of vapor in their wake: fighter jets, zealously guarding the surrounding airspace, ever alert for incoming threats. Jett stood on the rooftop of the Imperial Alliance building next to Marcus, gazing at the Skygate. His brother stared at it too, face impassive but eyes distant, lost in thought. Jett couldn't imagine what feelings Marcus experienced. His brother was never one to discuss his emotions, or much else for that matter. He was a lot like their father in that way.
Jett thrust his hands in his pockets. "It had to be you."
Marcus glanced at him, a smile touching his lips. His eyes were haggard, his shoulders bowed from the weight of the world on his back. Everyone considered him a legend, a natural leader of men. Jett knew better. He knew the struggles that Marcus hid from nearly everyone else.
"Not just me. The team. The movement. We all have a part to play."
"You know what I'm talking about."
Marcus looked back up at the Skygate. The spherical device hung in the sky like a second moon, hazy in the blue-violet sky. "If not me, who?"
"Anyone else. You're not the only one with the ability."
"I'm the strongest. And we can't count on anyone else. This is our only shot at eradicating aberrant energy from the atmosphere. If it doesn't work…"
"Cataclysm."
"Exactly. There's too many variables, too many things that can and probably will go wrong. I'll probably have to improvise up there. Especially with the Imperial Liberation Force vowing to stop us. The war is turning in their favor, and we're out of time. It's this, or the planet dies."
Jett shook his head. "How do you always know?"
"Know what?"
"What to do. It's been that way since we were kids. You were always the first to volunteer, the first one out the gate, the first to take control of a situation. And you've always been right."
Sadness touched Marcus' eyes. "Not always."
"More often than not. I've tried. Tried my best to lead the ACU after you were promoted, but it feels like I never lived up to your rep. I'm always second-guessing things, trying to figure out what you'd do in my place."
"Yeah, you might want to stop doing that to yourself."
"What choice do I have? You're a living legend. I'm just the kid brother that gets in his own way half the time."
Marcus placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Jett. It's hard to be a leader and stay that way. Trust your instincts. It's like catching yourself when you fall. You ever think about the options on the way down?"
"Of course not."
"Because it's reflex. Same with knowing what to do. Roll with your gut, and trust your instincts."
The light flickered…
***
Under his helmet, Vigil opened his eyes. The tunnel ceiling moved, lurching in clumsy motions. It took a few seconds to feel the tug on his back plate and realize the passageway wasn't moving—he was. Craning his neck, he saw the rusted, cylindrical robot that dragged him through the muddy slop of a narrow sluice into a larger tunnel, where the rusted remnants of subway rails lined the ground like dinosaur bones. Suffocating darkness surrounded them, illuminated only by the robot's headlamp, which roved across the vine-threaded, dirt-plastered walls.
"Zip?"
The robot's head turned. "Zip follow Jett. Save Jett from fire. Zip happy to help."
Vigil held up a hand. "Hold on, Zip."
Sitting up, he suppressed a groan as pain lanced through his entire body. His armor was scorched, his g-spans fried. He tested his limbs, relieved to find nothing broken. "First, it's Vigil. When I wear the helmet, it's Vigil. Helmet off, it's Jett. Okay?"
Zip's head swiveled in a full circle as it processed the new data. "Zip understand."
"Secondly, how did you find me?"
His earpiece buzzed. "I took the liberty, Vigil."
"Incognito?"
"Yes, it's me. I lost your signal when you went deeper into the tunnels. So, I activated a backup plan."
"My old sewer-repairing robot is the backup plan?"
"One has to work with the tools at hand. I couldn't get in touch with Viper, so I hacked into your little friend. Good thing, too, because it looked like you needed a hand. That was a close one, Vigil."
"Tell me about it."
"What happened?"
"Tactic disagreement. I wanted to bring them in; they preferred an explosive exit."
"Not sure I blame them after what happened to their partners. But you should have had backup in there. That deep in the Underbelly, you could have run into anything. You could have been critically injured or worse."
"I know the risks. Viper says she's out the game, so I didn't ask."
"You might have to find your own Viper. The original Vigil needed help too, you know."
Vigil winced as he stood, leaning on Zip for support. "You were his help. Isn't that what put you in the chair?"
He realized his mistake by the silence on the other end. "Hey, Incog—I'm sorry. Didn't mean to—"
"It's no problem, Vigil. We'll discuss that later. For now, let's get you back to base. I'll have a floater waiting at the nearest tunnel exit."
"Roger that." Vigil signed off and patted Zip on his rusty head. "Nice job, partner."
The robot buzzed in response. "Zip happy to help."
"I know you are, Zip. Let's get out of here." Limping, he followed Zip through the tunnels, followed by echoes and dripping water. Zip's head-lantern cast just enough illumination to make their way out. Darkness in front of them, darkness behind them, but light surrounded them, holding the shadows at bay as they left the cavernous depths and ascended to city lights that greeted them like a night sky full of stars.
Chapter 2: Limbo
The Grim Reaper Posse crew lounged in a group outside a dope house in Brickland: talking trash, playing games on holovisors, servicing the fiends that came by like clockwork. Only a few were tatted with skull-and-bone art representing their syndicate. The rest were low-level soldiers that hadn't earned their ink yet. Sweat dripped down bare skin even with the fans mounted on the outer wall of the house. The heat made them
lazier than normal. Careless out of habit because the badges hadn't made a bust on their turf in months. The op was too small, not worth the cost of sending drones or uniforms. The beat cops were paid to turn a blind eye unless things got out of hand.
Things were about to get out of hand.
Two bangers had guns: one with his rifle carelessly slung over his shoulder, the other with a bio attached to his holoband, not even activated. She took them out first with k-darts to the neck when she jumped from the rusty fire escape. The other bangers didn't notice anything was wrong until their buddies slumped to the broken concrete, unconscious.
By then, it was too late.
She landed in a crouch and quickly straightened, facing the startled bangers, who scrambled for their other weapons: knives, bats, pipes. The harsh sunlight glinted off her sleek gunmetal and yellow flex-armor. The interior of the visor that covered most of her face flashed with threat detectors that analyzed her enemies, mathematically indicating the best attack patterns.
"Heads up, bozos: give up Cerberus and walk. Don't, and wigs get split."
One of the GRPs laughed, pointing his aluminum bat in her direction. "The hell you 'posed to be? You no Vigil. Just scrawny jade in cosplay."
She flexed her fingers. The stun baton at her side popped from its holder and slapped into her hand, humming with charged electricity. "Last time: Cerberus. Spill."
He sneered. "Better idea: drop drawers and gimme goodies. Then the crew gets leftovers."
She smiled. "Your choice, jankhead. Bad one."
Ⓥ
Abraham Clarke haunted the streets like a restless spirit.
His strolls took him further each week until he realized he was walking a beat like he did as a rookie in the force, from the safety of his gated Brickland suburb to the gritty streets where old men like him were assaulted or killed for kicks. He wondered if a part of him wished some mugger or banger would try. He didn't carry the pistol in his pocket for nothing, after all. His reflexes were still pretty good, and he figured he could draw, aim, and shoot if his life was in danger.
Vigil: Inferno Season (The Cyber Knight Chronicles Book 2) Page 2