The Live Soldier Trilogy Box Set

by Liam Clay

  “300th story man?” Delez inquires.

  “It’s a term I invented. Back in the day, a second-story man was a burglar who broke into houses through an upstairs window. Well I do basically the same thing, except a lot higher up. But enough about me. Are you guys going to kill Korezon?”

  “Yes, but we will probably die trying instead.” Lucy replies.

  “Great! Can I come? I’m from the Underworld too.” He elaborates. “I was up here on a job during the invasion, but my sister wasn’t so lucky.”

  The poker player looks unconvinced. “Are you even carrying a weapon?

  The thief looks affronted. “Am I carrying a - what a question!” Reaching over his shoulder, he produces a device that does have certain characteristics in common with a firearm, but could just as easily be mistaken for a hydraulic drill or possibly a baby rhinoceros.

  “I don’t even care what that thing does.” Peace cackles gleefully. “It’ll scare the shit out of Korezon’s guys. You’re hired!”

  “Better to think of it as an internship.” Delez amends hastily. “In that you won’t be compensated in any way.”

  The thief grins, revealing surprisingly nice teeth. “Helping you take out Korezon will be payment enough for me. Name’s Rick, nice to meet you all.”

  And just like that, we gain a trooper. Of course if I’d had my way, it would be just me going. (I tried to sneak away after my conversation with Sophie, but subterfuge is hard to pull off with people who own a lifetime subscription to your thoughts.) To be honest though, I’m glad of the company. Guess I’m getting used to being part of a team.

  A team that is shortly to become a whole lot bigger. Rick’s admittance opens the flood gates, and a small army of looters is soon trailing in our wake. They’re making one hell of a racket, but a stealth attack was never really an option anyway, so we let them do their thing. My biggest worry is that we’re going to get lost. Partly because our new friends might lose faith in us, but also, I must admit, because I don’t want to disappoint my viewers. They have come to expect a certain level of programming from me, and it would be a shame to let them down now.

  We seem to be on the right track, though. A series of echoing hallways and sweeping staircases eventually leads us to a stark black box of a room. I’ve heard of these devices, but - like everyone else who isn’t a quazillionaire - never been inside one. It’s called a void cube. Very few true scientific breakthroughs have been made over the past century, but this is one of them (the fact that it is an essentially useless technology goes a long way to explaining humanity’s current predicament). It is basically a giant rubik’s cube with the center hollowed out. As to how it works, quantum entanglement, hilbert space and qubits are apparently involved. So what I’m saying is I have no idea. But I do know what it is.

  It’s a fucking teleporter.

  The cube’s obvious flaw is that objects can only be moved between its 20 adjoining compartments, severely limiting its practical uses. But if you’re rich enough, it makes one hell of an elevator. 80% of our entourage chickens out when they realize what the cube is. The rest get even more excited (god bless early adopters). Peace fiddles with a control panel, the door slides shut, and the lights go out. I would like to say that something really cool happens, or even creepy and painful, but in point of fact I don’t feel a thing. (That’s real science for you: always a letdown compared to the fictional variety.)

  When the lights come back on, we have transitioned into a white but otherwise identical box. Then, as if to atone for this underwhelming experience, the ceiling vanishes. There is no telescoping, accordioning or sliding open; it just flat out disappears. Then the floor rises until we are level with where the roof used to be. Thus are we delivered into the Korezon family’s famed Aviary.

  A towering bell shaped enclosure of seamless glass, the Aviary is the highest point in all of Opacity. The place draws its name from the dozens of bird species that have been dragged out of extinction and brought to roost here. It would be a more awe-inspiring sight if they weren’t all clawing at the glass trying to escape.

  At ground level where we’re standing, a beautiful (if rather extravagant) garden has been installed. Honey bees flit over flower beds; marsupials amble through ripe tomato plants; willows dip their branches into meandering streams. Not far from us, a broad crystal staircase spirals up into the sky. Bronze statues of legendary actors have been placed at random on the steps, which lead to a platform that sits just under the Aviary’s domed roof. If my instincts are on point, that is where Korezon will be. Time to get a move on. Apart from our footsteps, there is no sound but birdsong. We reach the steps and start to climb.

  We are nearing the first statue when a high-pitched whistle breaks the silence. The reaction from the airborne wildlife is immediate. They start to absolutely lose their shit, screeching and cawing like mad things. One of the largest specimens, a red winged bird with a jet-black body, dives straight for my unprotected face. I bring my shear up instinctively; but the creature just backs air, changes trajectory and comes at me again. I have no choice but to run up the stairs. As I pass the statue, a man emerges from behind it. His royal blue uniform is lined with silver brocade, and he would look like a joke if it weren’t for the gun in his hand. The guy would have me dead to rights if he was looking my way, but thankfully his focus is down the stairs. I consider shooting him, but my winged attacker has been joined by a few friends, so I keep moving.

  Dozens of soldiers are stepping out from behind the statues now. Fortunately, most of them are concentrated near the outer edge of the spiral staircase, whereas I am on the inside track. But the birds seem to have taken a strong disliking to me. I’m keeping them at bay by waving my shear around my head, but there are so many that I can barely see where I’m going. There is a serious possibility that I will fall off the stairs.

  It is Rick of all people who saves me - albeit accidentally. There is a cracking boom, and a section of the staircase falls out of the sky behind me. Glancing back, I see the barrel of the thief’s gun glowing a bright cherry red. The birds squawk and take to the air; I see my chance and make a run for it. Straight up the gut I go, keeping to the inside edge of the stairs. And then, before I know it, I’ve reached the top.

  The platform is crystal-hewn like the stairs, and just opaque enough to avoid causing vertigo. A reflective silver dome occupies its center, but otherwise there’s nothing to see. Even the birds have screwed off somewhere. I make my approach. The dome has no visible doors, but when I press my hand to its surface the structure grows somehow, only stopping when I am contained within it. I’ve grown so accustomed to the impossible by this point that I don’t even blink.

  CHAPTER 35

  There are a bunch of people hanging out inside the dome, including my old pal Porter. But the man I’m looking for is conspicuously absent.

  “Where’s Korezon?” I say flatly.

  “He doesn’t exist.” Porter replies in kind.

  This response is unexpected enough to give me pause. But I recover quickly.

  “The hell he doesn’t.”

  “Hand to god, it’s the truth.” He says with conviction. “The real Carlel Korezon died eighteen years ago. The current version is a false face, a media construct, a CGI fabrication.”

  To cover my sudden uncertainty, I take a moment to assess the dome’s other occupants. They are dressed in identical and rather pretentious robes, but that doesn’t tell me a whole lot.

  “And I’m really supposed to believe that?” I say to Porter. “Why wouldn’t he have passed the torch to one of his umpteen heirs?”

  “Because they were all idiots. And aside from that, humans in general are simply too unpredictable to make good leaders. We are prone to indecision, scandal and poor health, right down to delivering poor speeches after a bad night’s sleep. But our Carlel suffers none of these failings.” Porter beams with a sort of twisted parental pride. “He is what we want him to be, when we want him to be it, and noth
ing more. Always.”

  It feels like someone has just pushed me off a rather large cliff. The world is flickering around me, offering perspectives only available to those about to die a horrible death.

  “But most people hate Korezon!” I sputter. “If you’ve been making him up, why not turn the ugly bastard into, well, less of an ugly bastard?”

  “Because it wouldn’t have worked.” He replies smugly. “If we had transformed Carlel into an incorruptible politician - even gradually over a long period of time - people would have cried fake. The truth is, you have been trained to expect less from your betters. So we created a leader you would be willing to believe in. But it goes deeper than that. Korezon, in all his corrupt, backstabbing glory, was designed to make you feel safe. If you hate him, surely the city’s enemies must despise him even more? A paragon of virtue might sacrifice your needs in order to uphold some moral ideal. Not Korezon. He will lie, cheat and steal until he gets what he wants. Which is the same thing you want. And that is why you need him.”

  Porter is telling the truth - I’m sure of it.

  Motherfuck.

  I mean seriously, is anything I believe about the world actually true? I think I like the taste of cheese, for example. But how do I know for sure? Maybe my taste buds have been hijacked by Big Cheese as part of some grand conspiracy to con me out of my hard-earned credits. But the robed pricks are all watching me, so I should at least try to play it cool.

  “Well isn’t that a bitch. You do realize this puts me in a bit of a quandary, right? As you will know from watching my feed, I have been hypnotically conditioned to kill the guy.”

  “We are confident our surgeons can remedy that. But that is not why we brought you here.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you just say that you brought me to this place?”

  “Of course. Do you think it is just a coincidence that you, and only you, made it here to confront us? I’m afraid not. Everything you just experienced was orchestrated to yield this moment, this conversation.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit it: you’ve got me interested. Why would you do that?”

  “For the drama of it all! And the corresponding ratings, naturally. Viewership for your advance up the stairs just now was unparalleled in the entire history of Opacity. This dome has a dampening field much like the one you employed, but even after two minutes of dead air, viewer drop-off is sitting at less than 1%. It really is quite remarkable.”

  “So the baron...”

  “Mourns his jesters as he told you, and blames us for their deaths as well. But he values his own life even more, and so we were able to reach an arrangement.”

  “But why do you even care about my ratings? Kore Pictures doesn’t own my feed. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know who does.”

  “You do, Anex. You are a very rich man now.”

  “Isn’t that nice. Something tells me I won’t be joining the Topside elite anytime soon, though.”

  “Sadly, that may be the case. In fact, we would like you to leave Opacity entirely.” He raises a hand to quell the snarky comment he knows is coming. “Please, just hear me out.”

  “Fine, but make it quick.”

  “I’m afraid that, like fine wine, a proper explanation cannot be rushed. Now, you are probably wondering why we would purposefully add fuel to your celebrity, and then ask you to leave the city. Well the answer will please you.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Who wouldn’t want to hear that they had won?”

  “Huh?”

  “I am saying that you, Anex, have single-handedly beaten Carlel Korezon.”

  “But he doesn’t exist.”

  “The human being no longer exists, true. But you have defeated our construct of him - which is a much greater feat. As a result of your actions, our version of Carlel is no longer a viable option to lead this city. Therefore, a replacement is required. And we would like that replacement to be you.”

  “But a second ago you said I had to leave.”

  “Forgive me. I meant that we want Korezon’s successor to be a CGI construct of you. Which would, for obvious reasons, make your continued presence here problematic.”

  “So you build me up into a hero, then steal my persona and use it to defeat Shion in the next election. Neat. The question is, why should I go along with it?”

  “Because you have no choice. As we speak, what remains of your precious squad is bottled up under heavy fire outside. We didn’t anticipate you bringing quite so many people along, but it won’t matter in the end. And as for you... this might be a good time to introduce my colleagues.” He indicates the robed pricks arrayed around him. “Half of these men and women are executives from the city’s major film studios. The other half are trained killers with orders to take action if you misbehave. You see, we don’t actually need you alive in order to carry out our plan. We can always falsify video messages to your friends back in the Hive, telling them you have been installed as mayor and asking them to start shipping food ASAP.”

  “They’d never buy it.”

  “Oh, but they would. Remember, we have access to all of your interactions since the moment you met. There is no pet name, no shared experience or inside joke, that we don’t know about.”

  “And if they asked me to come for a visit?”

  “We would delay. They might eventually start asking questions, of course, which is why we would rather send you back to the Hive along with your squad. You could live out your days there in peace, on the condition that you never let yourselves be caught on camera.”

  “I see. And what about the fact that as soon as I walk out of here, my retcom is going to start transmitting again?”

  “Don’t worry, we have thought of that too.”

  At his curt gesture, two of the robed figures (killers for sure, since Porter would never order a superior around like that) stand aside to reveal a steel chair decked out with a gruesome array of surgical instruments. I shoot Porter a dark look; he raises an eyebrow.

  “I never said you would like it. I just said that we had thought of it. If your retcom never leaves this dome, your feed will stay dead until we can create an alternate version of our own.”

  “Looks like you’ve got everything sorted out then.” I say, trying to keep my tone mild. “What about our kids?”

  “They will stay here with us under improved conditions - for as long as you continue to cooperate.”

  “How kind of you. I do have one more question, though.”

  “Ask away.”

  “If Korezon doesn’t exist, who gave the order to decimate the Underworld?”

  “We did. It wasn’t a step we took lightly though, I can assure you.” He sighs, and then makes a show of composing himself. “Opacity is dying, Anex. All large-scale attempts to grow our own crops have failed, including Helix’s much vaunted hydroponics program.” He glances at a robed woman as he says this, and I mentally categorize her as a Helix exec. “To fill the gap, we have been buying food from the Thresh. But they cut off contact a few weeks ago, and have yet to re-establish it.”

  “We know all of that. But even if the Thresh stays offline, there are other farming enclaves to buy from.”

  “The Thresh produces more crops than all the other enclaves combined; but you’re right, alternatives do exist. There is something else you don’t know, however. Over the past decade, Opacity’s global film revenues have dwindled to almost nothing. In short, we’re broke.”

  “What! How is that possible?”

  Porter shrugs, but he can’t quite keep the despair off his face. “It’s simple: we don’t have any more customers. One by one, all of our foreign media buyers have gone dark. No one knows why. The world’s remaining societies are staunchly isolationist, so they were secretive even before we lost contact. But I think it is safe to assume the worst. It could be plague, or another world war, or the biblical apocalypse for all we know. But the outcome for Opacity is the same regardless. We still make mo
vies to entertain ourselves, and because our economy would fall apart otherwise. But no one else is watching.”

  “Have you ever considered the possibility that you’ve lost your touch? Maybe people just don’t like your stuff anymore.”

  Half of the robed pricks shift angrily - a fact that does not escape me.

  “I won’t dignify that with a response.” Porter replies stiffly. “My point, though, is that we had to do something. And as distasteful as it undoubtedly was, clearing out the Underworld was deemed a necessary step. But then you changed everything by conquering the Hive. For the first time in years, the future looks bright. We simply need your cooperation to help secure it.”

  I should probably give in and go along with their plan. Aside from getting my eye gouged out yet again, it doesn’t actually sound all that bad. The only problem is, I don’t fucking feel like it.

  “Porter, there is a temptation to keep what’s about to happen just between us. But it’s time I stopped trying to hide what I am, you know?”

  The Helixer blinks. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Could you -”

  His words are cut off by the sound of my shear telescoping open. What happens after that, I will remember in clips.

  The robed pricks, scrambling either toward or away from me.

  My blade as it cracks the dome. A hundred thousand glass sparks floating downward like spent fireworks.

  Rick, standing at the platform’s edge, caving a soldier’s chest in with the butt of his gun. Delez and company not far behind.

  A dagger blade, snapped off in my armored flesh. A blossom of ecstatic pain, return blow about to part a head from its body. The head aware of this fact.

  A studio executive on his knees, begging for mercy. Piss painting a Virgin Mary stain down otherwise immaculate robes.

  Me, taking a bullet to the hip. My hip is pretty fucked now. Fuck.