by Chris Lofts
Lytkin pressed her hand to her pearls. ‘You’re lying.’
‘Predictable.’ Helix shrugged. ‘Check your messages.’
Lytkin took two steps back, her eyes fixed on him. ‘Archer?’
The big man’s hands darted across a touch screen and virtual keyboard inside the control room.
Turning to the holographic screen projected from the side wall, Lytkin’s hands moved across icons, establishing a secure connection to her messages.
‘Search for a message with the subject line: Oh what a tangled web we weave,’ Helix instructed. ‘When first we practise to deceive,’ he mumbled, completing the quote.
‘Shakespeare? Am I supposed to be impressed, Major? I never had you—’
‘Walter A. Scott. Marmion. There’s a link in the message.’ It was Sofi’s idea; poetry wasn’t his bag.
Lytkin clicked the link, opening a pair of HD video streams: one with Wheeler the other with Lytkin’s teenage daughter, Christina. Lytkin took a step back, her hand clutched to her mouth.
‘Let me explain,’ Helix said. ‘Those are demolition charges. Looking at the current time, you have around 45 minutes. The end of the plank your daughter is sitting on is over the lift shaft. They’re on the fifteenth floor.’ He paused and rubbed his chin. ‘Ex-Chancellor Wheeler is on the other end. It’s a kind of cross between a seesaw and walk-the-plank. All the time they remain still, they keep each other alive. If the plank drops at Wheeler’s end the charges detonate. If he steps off, the charges detonate. If Christina falls down the lift shaft, the charges—’
‘Enough!’ Lytkin screamed. ‘I get it.’
‘You can speak to them if you like. Toggle the microphone icon in the bottom right corner. The link is encrypted. Government grade. Nobody can snoop.’
‘Christina?’ Lytkin said, her voice echoing in the half-light of the image on screen.
‘Mum?’ the daughter replied. ‘Mum. What’s going on?’ she said, thumbing her tear-streaked cheek. ‘Who was that guy? He’s planted—’
‘It’s OK, darling. Stay calm. Keep still. Let me handle—’
‘To borrow from Major Helix’s vernacular, I would say he has us by the short and curlies, Ulyana,’ Wheeler said, his voice heavy with defeat. ‘I was just explaining to—’
‘Shut up, Justin! You’re hardly in a position to negotiate.’
‘Negotiate?’ Wheeler scoffed, stretching one of his legs.
The board lurched. Christina screamed out. ‘Mum!’
‘It’s OK, it’s OK.’ Wheeler held his hands up. ‘Just stretching.’
Lytkin turned to face Helix. ‘Negotiate.’
Helix nodded. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Release my daughter.’
‘Release your daughter, and…’ Helix raised his eyebrows.
‘And we’ll talk.’
‘We can talk now,’ Helix replied, poking his ear.
‘It’s over, Ulyana,’ Wheeler called out. ‘I told you it was lunacy. That you’d never pull it off. But you wouldn’t listen.’
‘Yes, and like so many others, Justin, you underestimated me,’ Lytkin returned. ‘I have everything I need. Here. Now.’
‘But at what cost? How high a price are you prepared to pay?’ Wheeler sighed. ‘You’re too blind to see defeat when it’s staring you in the face, Ulyana. You can kill the Helix brothers, take Gabrielle’s blood, re-engineer the pathogen…’ He brushed dust from the sleeves of his shirt. ‘What then? You and Gaia—’
‘Shut up, you fool.’
‘No. Please continue, Chancellor,’ Helix said.
‘Chancellor? Thank you for restoring me, Major. It was only a matter of time. All part of the plan. You see—’
Lytkin clamped her hands to her head. ‘Justin, I’m warning you.’
‘Be quiet, Ulyana. I’ve already told Christina everything. It was quite cathartic. I thought it important for her to know who her mummy really is.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sure you would have got around to it, but it seems you might not have time now.’
‘Mum? Is it true?’ Christina asked. ‘What were you thinking?’
Helix made a mental note to check the recordings later. But what the hell was Wheeler talking about?
‘Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,’ said Lytkin, staring at her shoes. She turned, one hand on her hip, the other on her head. ‘He’s an idiot.’
‘Ha. But not too much of an idiot to be at your side when you executed your coup d’état.’ Wheeler gritted his teeth. ‘When you unleash the pathogen in Parliament, safe in the knowledge that legislation you steered onto the statute books would see you anointed. Installed as the dear leader with a small cohort of immune sycophants, imbued with tyrannical power and blessed by Gaia.’
Helix frowned. What was Wheeler’s play? Would Lytkin come quietly? He doubted it. He bounced the possibilities around in his head. Gabrielle was safe. He had to get Ethan and Sofi out of there. Wheeler and the kid? Wheeler – halo-confinement. Lytkin and Archer the same. The kid would have to take her chances with social services.
‘Cat got your tongue, Major?’ Wheeler said. ‘Not like you to be lost for words.’
‘You can’t talk your way out of this one,’ Helix said, addressing Lytkin. ‘It’s time.’ He parted his feet. ‘Release Gabrielle, me and Ethan. Once you and Archer are inside one of the empty cells, I’ll make the arrangements to have you taken into custody. I’ll also have Wheeler taken into custody and your daughter released. It’s over.’
Wheeler cleared his throat. ‘Halo-confinement?’ he said, fidgeting around on the plank. ‘Is that your best offer, Major?’
Grabbing onto the plank with both hands, Christina screamed again, her arms shaking, knuckles white.
‘It’s too good for you, but it’ll have to do,’ Helix said. ‘I’d sit still if I were you.’ He switched his eyes to Lytkin. ‘Open this cell. Now.’
‘No,’ she said. Defiant. Brimming with hate.
‘Open your fucking eyes!’ Helix barked. ‘You’ve less than 40 minutes. ‘Kill Gabrielle, kill me, kill Ethan and your daughter dies. Wheeler dies. The country will know who and what you are.’
‘I’ve made sacrifices before, Major,’ Lytkin replied, stalking towards Sofi. ‘I can do it again.’
‘Mum?’ Christina said, trapping a sob in her throat. ‘What are you doing? Mum, please!’ she screamed.
Wheeler was up on his feet, balanced on the plank, hands aloft, like a Greek performing a Sirtaki. ‘Hi-diddle-dee-dee, it’s halo-confinement for me,’ he sung but without the gaiety and optimism of the original song.
Helix glowered at the screen. What the fuck was he doing? ‘Wheeler—’
‘Are, there you are, Major. I’ve considered your offer.’
‘Sit down, you idiot.’
Wheeler fixed his eyes on the camera. ‘I told you what happens in halo-confinement, didn’t I?’ he said, the banter and bravado of a few moments ago absent. ‘And with nobody to commute my sentence, I’m not so sure it’s for me.’
‘Too bad,’ Helix said. ‘I don’t have anything else to offer.’
‘Oh but you do.’ He edged around on the plank. ‘I’m sorry, Christina. I’ve lost. Everything is gone. My career, my reputation, my liberty.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘My wife. It was—’
‘Justin!’ Lytkin screamed, rushing back to the screen. ‘What are you doing?’ she pleaded, her hands clasping her hair.
‘I’m sorry, Ulyana. It was fun while it lasted,’ he said, closing his eyes.
In the moment before the blinding flash, Wheeler could be seen, arms held out as he fell backwards from the plank. Static filled the screens. A primordial scream filled the air. Helix clamped his hands to his head, his eyes wide.
Lytkin ripped her hair from its fastenings. Dropping to her knees, she hammered the floor with her fists. Narrowing her eyes on Helix, she got slowly to her feet. She turned, her eyes fixed on Sofi. One slow step led to another before she broke into a run, launching he
rself at the AI still immobilised in the operating chair. ‘I’ll kill you first,’ Lytkin spat, leaning across, her hands around Sofi’s throat.
All Helix could do was watch. This was it.
The sinews of Sofi’s prosthetic skin, muscles and endoskeleton strained as she pushed against the restraints. The one on her right leg gave way first. Archer was already on his feet. He hesitated, unsure if he should intervene. He took a step towards the door as the left leg strap succumbed, Sofi’s knee driving into Lytkin’s stomach. Winded, Lytkin lunged at the instruments on the tray. Sofi’s kick knocked her back, scattering the trolley and its contents across the floor. Sofi twisted; the right arm broke free. Reaching across to the left she snapped the last restraint and sprung from the chair to her feet.
Archer charged from the door towards the mêlée. Sofi darted towards him. Pivoting on her left foot she delivered a side kick to his stomach. Following up with a spinning roundhouse kick to the side of his head, she stepped back as he crumpled to the floor.
Helix punched the air. ‘Yes, Sofi.’
Turning her attention to Lytkin, Sofi parried away the metal tray her assailant had thrown. Lytkin hopped, one shoe on, the other lost. She lashed out with her foot, launching the remaining shoe at Sofi.
Helix wrung his hands. Sofi wasn’t close enough. She needed to close the gap. ‘Watch your back,’ he called as Archer lumbered to his feet.
Shaking his head, the giant stumbled forward towards the two women. Lytkin slashed with an orthopaedic bone saw, driving Sofi back towards the looming Archer. Sofi spun. The first kick failed to connect. Archer gripped Sofi’s ankle, nostrils flaring, a question on his face as he struggled with the weight of the small woman’s leg. Sofi exploited the hesitation, spinning over the top and catching the side of his bearded jaw with her other foot. Stunned again, he staggered and crashed against the chair.
Lytkin screamed, launching an attack with the bone saw. Sofi darted aside putting her attacker between her and Archer. With the saw above her head, Lytkin lunged again. Sofi froze in the path of the serrated blade. It shredded her blouse and the synthetic skin of her shoulder, coming to rest against her carbon fibre clavicle. Lytkin stuttered to a halt, studying the instrument, stunned by the lack of response from Sofi. Archer froze too.
Helix caught Sofi’s eye as she looked past Lytkin. ‘Carpe diem,’ he mouthed. Seize the day.
Lytkin swung again. It was too slow. Clamping her hands over her wrists, the AI guided Lytkin and the saw towards her stomach, penetrating just below her sternum. Sofi’s eyes widened as she tugged it deeper.
Helix counted down. ‘Fifteen seconds and fourteen…’
Sofi’s mouthed gaped as she drew breath. Flashing her right hand around the back of Lytkin’s head, she clenched a handful of hair. Deaf to Lytkin’s scream, she clamped her left around her back, grasping the belt on her trousers. Lytkin’s pearls snapped, the white spheres cascaded and danced across the floor amongst the scattered surgical instruments. Sofi channelled her strength and pulled the embedded the blade deeper, narrowing the gap between them.
Helix bit his lip. ‘Eleven and ten…’
Gasping for air, Lytkin’s attempts to pull away were futile. Sofi tightened her death grip and closed her eyes as Archer crushed her hands in an attempted to lever them away from Lytkin’s hair and waist. He heaved back and pivoted on his right foot. Sofi’s eyes sprang open as he threw them both to the floor. Lytkin broke free. She rolled to the side coughing, her hands grabbing to gain traction on the floor.
‘Six and five and four…’ Helix pressed his hands to his head. ‘No, no, no. Sofi!’
Archer threw himself at Sofi, his huge body crushing the breath from her. Lytkin clutched a hand to her own throat. Slipping and sliding on the fallen pearls, she distanced herself, seeking refuge beside the chair.
Helix grimaced. ‘Three and two and one… Shit!’ He braced himself as close to the fizzing front wall of his cell as he dared get.
Sofi’s silent EMP detonation destroyed or disabled every piece of electrical and electronic equipment, evidenced by the extinguishing of the lights, the release of the locks, and evaporation of the fences at the front of the cells. The second grenade secreted in Sofi’s abdomen exploded. The detonation ripped both her and Archer apart. A macabre confusion of flailing limbs, bone, endoskeleton and gore smeared the walls, ceiling and floor.
An emergency lamp pulsed and flickered into life, casting a weak intermittent pool of pale light. Lytkin stumbled to her feet, wiping blood shakily from her face, staring at her hands and what remained of her assistant and Sofi.
Helix bolted from his cell as fast as his stubborn right leg would allow. There was still time. He could get to her. Driving himself forward, he tripped over the fallen instrument trolley. Exploiting Lytkin’s confusion, he bent, scooped up a pair of scissors from the floor and hurled himself at her. She evaded the thrust, stumbling into the double doors as he dropped to his knees. The feeble light caught the frame of the shelves as they fell. Helix thrust his left arm over his head, equipment cascading down on him. His arm was no defence, the shelves heavier than they appeared. Rolling to the side, he pushed up and over to his left, elbow and knee pivoting under the rack, propelling it away. On his knees, he scanned around in the flickering light. With the main electricity supply out, the walls had returned to their opaque state. ‘Shit!’
Lytkin was gone.
35
The stench of death filled Helix’s nose. He was more familiar with it than anyone should be. You never got used to it. Angling his head away, he told himself that it wasn’t Gabrielle’s lifeless eyes staring up at him from the floor. He kicked away one of Archer’s boots, part of a bloodied tibia protruding from it. Bone. Ethan.
Adrenalin propelled him towards the control room. Apart from a discarded office chair, a glass bench and wire rack, there was nothing. The absence of power had killed off the array of holographic monitors, and keyboards that Archer had sat behind earlier.
Turning his attention to the rack, he found his rucksack, jacket and weapons. He stopped, one hand on the rack. Lytkin had no intention of allowing them to leave. What had she said? They were not so different. Maybe she was right. No loose ends. It worked both ways.
He slung his holsters over his shoulders and fastened them. Snatching up his jacket, he knocked his PCM and the plastic unicorn Gabrielle had given him to the floor. The EMP would likely have fried the PCM. But it was worth a try. He hung the unicorn around his neck. Pulling up his trouser leg, he thumbed the device into the back of his calf beneath the flap of loose skin. He waited for the boot sequence to stream through his vision. The darkness persisted. Two seconds more. Nothing. His arm and leg weren’t impossible to manoeuvre without his enhancements. The body was quick to adapt. He chambered a round in each P226. The dead PCM meant that the smart-ammo was no longer smart but he could live with that too. Close quarters, left handed, what’s not to like? He donned his jacket, slung the rucksack over his left shoulder and headed for the door.
Crouching beside the fallen rack, he scooped up Ethan’s stubbies and shoved them into the rucksack. A smear of blood down the edge of the door marked the direction of Lytkin’s exit. Helix tightened the straps on the rucksack. He needed to find Ethan first, then he would deal with her.
He pulled one of his guns and eased himself through the double doors. Guiding the door shut, he scanned the cavernous open space. Encased in concrete and steel, the organs and innards of the building groaned, ticked and wheezed like a slumbering monster. The air was heavy with the smell of dust, hot equipment, paint, rubber, grease and metal. He bobbed and weaved, his weapon in a double handed grip, checking the recesses and the gaps between pipes, chains, cable trays and ladders.
Human access was delineated by a green-painted footway edged in yellow and black. To the right of the path, the bare concrete wall was punctuated every ten feet with anonymous grey doors. Helix rested his hand on the handle of the first. Tilting his h
ead against the door he listened, pressed down and shoved it open. He swept the room in an arc with this gun. Clear. The weak emergency lighting seeped across the threshold, falling across racks filled with hubs, routers, switches and other equipment. Yellow, blue and green lights danced in panels suggesting that whatever it was, it hadn’t been affected by the EMP.
Moving to the second door, Helix repeated the entry procedure, making the same discovery. Door three was different. The faecal smell of drains seeped from within, like a camp latrine with a dose of dysentery in town. He flung the door inwards, recoiling from the stench that rolled out. ‘Jesus!’ He clamped his arm around his nose and mouth. Standing at the threshold, he forgot the smell. He’d seen some things in his life, but what confronted him was a first.
Two Perspex cells. Ethan pinned to the floor on the left, Dmitri, snarling and caked in his own excrement in the second. ‘Ethan,’ he called rushing through the door. Something shifted under his feet. ‘Fuck!’
Dmitri’s eyes widened as the partition separating him from his next meal was jettisoned courtesy of the plate that Helix had stepped on. He grunted breathlessly and lunged towards Ethan. The first bite at Ethan’s left arm failed to connect.
‘Fucking hell, Nate,’ Ethan said, managing to shift an inch within the restraints.
Dmitri wheezed. Rolled closer and launched himself again.
‘Argh! Shit,’ Ethan yelled as Dmitri connected.
A deep canine growl came from deep within Dmitri as he clamped his teeth into Ethan’s shoulder and started writhe and twist.
‘Get him off me. He’s going to rip my fucking arm off.’