by Liam Clay
“Is there another way up?” Tikal asks Ryo.
“Not unless you guys can fly.” His eyes light up. “Can you?”
“No.”
“Then what should we do?”
“Someone has to shimmy up the cable and bring the car down.” Francis says.
“Who could possibly climb that?”
Everyone looks at me. And they're right to: I'm the only one who can do this.
“Being genetically enhanced blows.”
The cable is a black snake of twisted steel. Strands of razor wire have escaped the main bundle, making the task dangerous on top of difficult. I grip the metal and start to climb. It takes less than a minute to reach the underside of the car, which consists of four copper panels screwed to crossed support beams. Using my shear like a scalpel, I cut through the screws holding one of the panels in place. Then I slide it aside and peer through the gap.
The car is roofless, revealing a square of sky above. I pull myself up and through. Now it feels like I'm at the bottom of a shallow well. Voices thread through the pumping guns, but they are coming from the tower's edge, a good distance from my position. A hand crank protrudes from one of the walls. I give it a spin. The mechanism makes a ratcheting sound with every revolution, but it is lost in the clamor above.
Turn by cautious turn, I bring the elevator down to the others. They climb aboard, and the process begins in reverse. We're almost to the top when an object arcs down into the car. It strikes one of the bodyguards and spins into a corner. Before I can react, Tikal scoops the thing up and tosses it back. An explosion rocks the rooftop, and then five more grenades drop into our midst.
Now we're jumping up to grab the shaft’s edge. I roll onto the rooftop, and a hatchet-faced stooge swings his rifle down at my face. A quick wrist flick and my shear opens, biting into the meat of his calf as it does so. He overbalances and falls past one of the Mezareen bodyguards, who is struggling to escape the elevator. The stooge grabs her leg on the way down. I meet the woman’s eyes, and then she is pulled back into the pit. The grenades detonate a second later, spewing fire into the sky. Bone and burnt flesh rain down upon me. A bullet pings off my armor, and I scramble sideways across the roof, trying to buy myself some time.
Four cannons grace the parapets. They were designed to protect the tower's entrances, but Morilios is using them for a darker purpose. Raising my rifle, I sweep a bloody pen stroke across the stooge manning the northern gun. Then I duck behind its left blast plate, intending to survey the battle. But a hand reaches over the barrel from the opposite side, and fires a shot. The bullet misses me, but the report nearly breaks my eardrums. I swing my shear upward, trying to hit the stooge's gun - and miss. My heels touch stone again just as he rounds the cannon, already firing. I take two slugs to the abdomen, and then he crashes into me, bringing us both to ground.
Now we're fighting like dogs in the dirt. My armor stopped the bullets, but the stomach muscles beneath feel pulverized, and I struggle to defend myself. Perverse tactics are all that save me. Getting an arm free, I thrust steel-sheathed fingers into the soldier's mouth. Then I push my thumb through the flesh under his chin until the skin breaks. He starts to choke, and now I'm wrenching his jaw from side to side, putting my whole weight behind the effort. There is a tearing sound, and a gaping rent opens in his cheek, just below the ear. Disgusted by what I've done, I let the man go. He curls into himself, cradling his mangled face.
I lie beside him, winded and horrified and unable to move. Thankfully, the squad has everything in hand. Holographic droneguns are distracting the stooges, leaving our real fighters free to do their worst. Ryo has found a weapon, and is attacking his own kind with bitter determination. Within minutes, the enemy has been subdued and the parapets are ours.
I wonder how much longer we can keep this up. Our fortunes have been built on quick violence, superior tech, and a willingness to capitalize on the destruction we find everywhere on this ruined planet. But there may come a day when we meet someone who isn’t fighting from their knees, and it won't end well for us.
And maybe we will deserve it. I came here to help people, but so far all I’ve done is kill them. Came here to restore order, but so far I’ve only stoked the entropic fires. Came here to start fixing the world, when you get right down to it. What a joke. I didn’t fix Opacity; I toppled a regime. Any progress made since then is down to Shion and Kalana. Peace would say I’m wallowing in self-pity again. But that’s not what this is. It’s anger. How am I supposed to be a good person when the world is so fucked up? When will I stop banging my head against this wall? But then I think of Sophie, and the answer comes to me.
Never.
I struggle to my feet and walk over to Ryo. He is staring at the corpse of a beautiful young woman.
“Is that her?” I ask softly.
“Morilios? Yes. I wanted... I don't know. Maybe to ask her why she did it. Killed all those innocent people. But now all we can do is guess.”
“I'm sorry Ryo, but life is messy like that. You did the right thing by helping us, though. That much I'm sure of.”
“I was only trying to save my own skin.”
“I don't think so. Osaka was your grandmother, wasn't she?”
He looks up at me. “How did you know?”
“Intuition. Your names. A family resemblance. It doesn't matter. But if she was your kin, why did you let us kill her?”
“Because it needed to be done. She wouldn't have stopped until all the Afflicted were dead. And even before that, she was a terrible leader. My grandmother was obsessed with power and legacy. She coddled me because I was supposed to carry on the Osaka name, but everyone else was a tool to be used and thrown away.”
“So you risked your own future to give others a chance at one. If that's what you call saving your own skin, you're bad at it.”
He doesn’t reply, but hopefully the seed of self-worth has been planted. Leaving him to sort through his feelings, I check in with the squad. Tikal's hip plate has been shredded by shotgun fire, and the skin beneath is smeared red, but the damage is superficial. Everyone else is unhurt, except for the Mezareen bodyguard that I watched die. Her partner is standing at the parapets, eyes closed against the wind. I don’t have the energy to console him. Together, we return to the grand hall. The Mezareens are waiting for us at the western entrance, silhouetted against the lowering sun. Tikal leads us out to meet them.
CHAPTER 10
Our reunion should be a happy one. We have retaken the Hub with minimal casualties, opening up the possibility of rebuilding. But tension hovers over the two groups like a heat haze. Rook stands at his aunt's side, thumbs wrapped in makeshift bandages, which I take as a bad sign as well.
“Where are the councilors?” Tesla calls out.
“One contracted the link virus weeks ago, and was pushed out by the others.” Tikal replies. “We killed Osaka and Morilios ourselves.”
“And the last?”
“Ptolemy had nothing to do with what happened here. You should find ver inside somewhere.”
The headwoman sends runners into the Spoke, and then returns her attention to us.
“I must admit, it never occurred to me that you might succeed.”
“And now that we have, what do you intend to do?”
“The same thing you would, if our positions were reversed.”
“Let us go?” Francis says hopefully.
“I think not. You have proven yourselves a threat, and I will not put my family in danger out of some misguided sense of honor.”
“And what about the Afflicted?” Den says, stepping forward out of the crowd. “If you kill the Opacians, there will be no one to find the people who created the pooled link. We would be leaving our own people to die.”
The headwoman scoffs. “Our own people? The other families were no friends to us. How many Mezareens died when they razed our fields beyond the wall? My husband wasn't the only one to burn. So why should we help them now?”
“Save your naive slogans for the other children. They have no place in adult conversation.”
“We should let the Opacians go.”
I nearly drop my gun when I realize that it's Rook who has spoken.
“Use your heads!” He continues, turning to face his extended family. “The Thresh is too big for us to hold alone. And when word gets out that we're vulnerable, raiders will come here and take everything. Assuming Opacity doesn't return to avenge their dead first.”
Tesla can hardly believe what she's hearing.
“You would side with them, even after they broke your fucking thumbs?”
Rook shrugs. “We need to heal the Afflicted, end of story. And if anyone can save them, it's that little psychopath and her soldier friends. Plus, if they're out in the world trying to find a cure, they won't be here interfering in our business.”
The headwoman is clearly livid now, but she holds her tongue, knowing she's lost.
“Very well. They can leave, and the salesman too.” She rounds on us. “But if you come back here without a cure, I will kill you myself.”
.
We are outside the Hub, waiting to board a train that will take us to Terminus 8. Peace, Amy and Jinx have rejoined the squad, and everyone is in a decent mood. Even the salesman, who has been roughed up by Tesla's bodyguards, is whistling as he preps his pack. But the train is still powering up when we receive some unexpected visitors.
Den and Ryo arrive side by side, both sucking wind after their run through the station. Despite being similar in age, I can't imagine how they would know each other, and so it's odd to see them together.
“What do you want?” Tikal asks.
“To come with you.” Den replies promptly.
“Not a chance. We aren't babysitters and this isn't a field trip.”
“I know that. But Tesla just excommunicated both of us, and we have nowhere else to go.”
“Excommunicated you?” I say. “Who does that woman think she is - the pope?”
“What's a pope?”
“Some kind of flightless bird?” Ryo guesses.
“Never mind.” I turn to the squad. “These two helped us when no one else would. So I think we have to bring them.”
Tikal looks unconvinced, but then Lucy surprises everyone by wrapping both teenagers in a tight hug.
“I'm so sorry.” She tells them. “I can't imagine what it must feel like, being driven out of your homes like this.”
Francis looks dumbstruck. “Lucy, are you feeling alright?”
She turns. “Yes, why?”
“I don’t know. It's just that I've never seen you act so... emotional before.”
“She's trying to repair her public image for the camera.” Amy says bluntly.
The poker player stiffens. “Fuck off, you little brat. If Anex can turn over a new leaf, why shouldn't I?”
“Because it won't do you any good. Acting like a better person isn't going to bring Fort back.”
Francis looks scandalized. “Amy, how many times have we talked about this? Just because you're an asskicking child genius doesn't mean you get to be an asshole.”
I expect the girl to shrug off my friend’s reprimand, but she bows her head instead.
“I'm sorry, Lucy. What I meant to say is, winning the public's approval won't take the pain away. Only time can do that.”
“And you know this based on your extensive life experience, yes?”
Ignoring her dripping sarcasm, Amy nods. “My predecessor had to watch as the civilization he built fell apart around him. So I know something about grief.”
Lucy spits on the ground. “Not as much as Anex's fans do, apparently. You don't know what it's been like, having millions of strangers judge how much I miss Fort. I keep telling myself that I don't care what they think, but that's a lie. So yes, maybe I was trying to seem caring for the camera. You happy now?”
“Don't you know the first rule of being an artist?” Den asks. “Never read the reviews.”
“But I don't want to be a god damned artist! I never asked for fame, and so I don't deserve to suffer its consequences. If what we're doing out here wasn't so important, I never would have come at all. And there are times when I still think it's not worth it.”
Now Peace steps into my eyeline and advances, until our faces are just centimeters apart.
“Did you hear that, you mindless trashsuckers? You're screwing with our group dynamic, so knock it off before you get us all killed!”
“Now that's some good programming!” Den says appreciatively. “Involve the viewer on a personal level, and you've made a fan for life.”
Tikal weighs up the Mezareen. “This one might be useful after all. No one else seems to have a handle on Anex's TV situation. Alright, you can come with us.”
“What about me?” Ryo asks.
She sighs. “You showed some promise during the rooftop battle, so maybe I can teach you how to avoid killing yourself on the way to Worldpool.”
While Den and Ryo congratulate each other, Delez walks over and places a hand on the poker player's shoulder.
“Lucy, you are a key part of this weird team we've put together. So if you're ever thinking of leaving, please let us know so that we can talk you out of it. And I know we don't say it enough, but we really are sorry about Fort.”
Lucy's face crumples. “Don't bullshit me, Delez. I know none of you liked him. But the really terrible part is, neither did I. He had good genes and he was in love with me and I wanted a baby, so I used him. And when he couldn't give me what I wanted, I cut him loose. But even afterward, he still did whatever I told him. If it wasn't for me, Fort wouldn't have stormed Opacity's upper levels with you, and so he would still be alive today.” She turns toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “And there you have it, people: all the dirt you need to keep hating me forever. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”
This is too much to take.
“Hold it!” I shout. “To all my viewers out there. If you keep ragging on Lucy in the media, I will shut my feed down permanently. And just to prove that I'm serious, I am locking you out for the next 24 hours. Goodbye.”
And with three simple blinks, I cut 45 million people out of my life.
“Holy balls.” Delez breathes. “Where did that come from?”
I shift uncomfortably, aware of Lucy's gaze. “Like you said, we're a team. So we might as well start acting like one.”
No one says anything to this, and we all get back to work shortly afterward. But when we board the train, Lucy sits beside me, and I get that warm, addictive feeling that comes from having done something right.
.
The trip to Terminus 8 takes a few hours. No one derails us this time, and we make it to the station unharmed. Although the bodies are gone, I linger at the spot where I killed the Splitter woman. But the pain associated with that act has already been crushed by the weight of more recent events. As I knew it would be.
The border town remains deserted. We walk the main street, pass through the gate, and leave the Thresh behind. Hopefully the next time we see this place, it will be with a cure for the link virus in our possession. The apocalypse winnebago is waiting for us on the glassy plain. Drifts of sand have accumulated on the stormward side of its wheels, and the windshield is in need of a wipe down, but otherwise it looks ready to travel. Delez activates the dropdown door and we climb aboard.
The squad has gained three members since the last time we used the GTV, so our first order of business is to conduct a bed reshuffle. Francis and Amy seem to be developing a sort of sibling relationship, and they offer to share a room. Jinx replaces Francis in the bunk above Lucy, and the teens each claim a gunchair alcove. Delez takes the first shift at the wheel with the salesman as copilot, which leaves me and Tikal free to enjoy some downtime.
After cleaning and stowing our armor, we head back to our room. Sitting down on my bunk, I watch as Tika
l shrugs out of the skinsuit she was wearing underneath. Her body is incredible: tall and powerfully built, with legs to forever, a tightly muscled stomach and leanly cut shoulders and arms. The scars and fresh bruises only make her feel more real to me. The smell of her fills the small space, and I start to strip off my own suit at top speed.
“Anex, I think we need to talk.”
“What, like right now? But I thought nearly dying always made you horny.”
“It does.” She says, letting her eyes rove over my bare chest and down to my cock. “But we might not get another chance to speak with your feed down.”
“And having that privacy is important to you?”
“Of course it is.”
“Right, I get that. It's just that a lot of the time, you seem pretty into the whole voyeurism thing.”
“I am, for sex. But this is personal.”
“More personal than sex?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”
Mentally wrangling my hard-on into submission, I force myself into the right mindset. And then immediately ruin things by blurting out the first fear that enters my head.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
She smiles. “No, I'm not breaking up with you. But I am concerned that we're not in the same place emotionally.”
I knew it. I've let myself get a bad case of the feels, and she wants us to take a long step backward.
“Is it because you heard me call you my girlfriend? Because if you did, it was an accident and I can stop doing it.”
She looks at me strangely. “You think that's my problem? That you've been coming on too strong?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, you're this incredibly badass, independant woman, and I don’t want to cramp your style, you know?”
I'm leaning against a sidewall on the top bunk. Now she climbs up too, putting her back to the opposite surface so that our hips and feet are touching.