Raddocks Horizon (Godyssey Legacy Book 1)

by Duran Cross

He’d killed women before but not a civilian, not a mother in her own home with her child.

  Serro Hopper is switched off and feels no guilt now; it is somewhere else so far away from him. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever feel anything again.

  “Already dead.” he repeats tonelessly.

  ◆◆◆

  When Rennin arrives back at his apartment he can tell Carla is still there as soon as he opens the door. He can smell her perfume and what could only be bleach. If she was cleaning, she must be feeling better. He walks into his puny apartment to sees her wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. She looks up at him with her bright baby blues.

  “Hi,” she rasps slightly.

  “I’ve passed logs of shit that look better than you,” he says blandly but his eyes betray his genuine concern.

  Carla smiles, “You don’t look so good yourself.”

  Rennin still looks terrible and he has the most intense cottonmouth, “Yeah…” he cracks his neck. “It’s my rugged viral nose paste that gives my skin its seemingly glowing sheen.”

  “Or you’re a greasy euro.”

  Rennin sniggers, “I’ve shot people for less than that.”

  “Shot a pearl necklace, maybe,” she says with a fluidic cough.

  Rennin takes a slow breath. He doesn’t want to know, he just wants to tell Caufmann she hasn’t been vaccinated, get the drug, and dose her up. “Have you been vaccinated for that flu that’s been going around?”

  She sniffs, “Yes, and a day later I get sick. Typical.”

  Rennin pulls his lips behind his teeth feeling something inside go dark, like a light turning off.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Rennin purses his lips and shakes his head. “I’m just worried about you.”

  “Flu never killed me before.”

  When Rennin was eating lunch earlier he remembers overhearing something one of the scientists said about the reactivation of the Embryon Protocol to find anyone infected. That means someone might look for her.

  If Rennin knows the military, and he does bitterly, it is only a matter of time before there are hit squads out in the dark, removing the infected as fast as they can. I won’t let them get her. “Can you do me a favour?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t leave the apartment for a few days.”

  “Why?”

  He sits and takes her hand, her cold hand, in his and looks at her earnestly. “Trust me.”

  ◆◆◆

  Caufmann is in the lower labs refining the testing of Del’s internal systems. There seems to be a serious problem once the combat protocols are unlocked. He uses sonar to see his surroundings but has great difficulty distinguishing between viable targets and non-combatants.

  In all simulations, he lasts about half an hour before he starts to become confused, shooting friendlies and targets alike. With a glitch like this, Del will never be allowed in the field. “There must be some way to determine why he suddenly sees friendlies as enemies.”

  Rethrin mutters something before responding to him. “He either kills everyone or no one at all. Why did you think it was such a good idea to make a blind android?”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “Eyes would solve everything.”

  “Not if they’re disabled. Android eyes are their lifelines, they can not do anything without them. Once Del is perfected, he will be the ultimate in future combat. There are none like him.”

  “What about Del’s brother unit Adrenin?” asks Rethrin.

  Caufmann glances at Rethrin for a moment before continuing to read the diagnostics display on the Transfilm in his hand. “Not ready.”

  Rethrin stares hard at him. “William… I’ve worked with you long enough to know when you’re hiding something. It’s frustrating.”

  “You must spend a lot of your time frustrated.”

  “If Adrenin is Del’s twin, why is he taking so long? It’s not just a birthing algorithm instalment, I know that’s garbage.”

  “Adrenin has eyes and he isn’t exactly Del’s twin,” he says pausing for a moment to think. “Maybe more of a half-brother.”

  Rethrin’s expression is almost a wince, “What have you done this time?”

  “Doctor Hillon is already aware of this, but I’ve cloned one of the Suvaco units.”

  Rethrin is stunned. “You did what?”

  “I needed to know their limitations. After everything that’s gone wrong with Del, I now believe their programming is organic and can be copied with the genome.”

  “To accomplish what?”

  “Adrenin may hold the key to decoding the Suvaco units. I tried altering certain sequences with Del but the result has left him unstable. Adrenin is a direct copy.”

  “It would explain the extreme amount of ghost code,” says Rethrin.

  “The main aim with Adrenin is to ascertain how the Suvaco units communicate with each other. Once done, I can set Adrenin up to command them, should they ever awaken.”

  Rethrin scoffs, “It could do the exact opposite, they might be able to command him.”

  “Which explains Del’s existence. He is the contingency. He is specifically designed to kill androids.”

  She nods to herself. “William, may I be excused?”

  “Of course, I’ll stay on.”

  Rethrin walks out of the lab door. It flies up into the bulkhead then slams behind her, excluding her from the lab.

  Doctor Roths is waiting on the other side, “What did he say?”

  Rethrin avoids eye contact. “I didn’t ask.”

  “Why not? You believe the infection sweeping the city is his doing. He told me both strains of DNA weren’t made here and I believe him, Mepida. He’s insane, most definitely, but he’s not a liar.”

  “I know he made it. He’s sick.”

  Roths’ sickly complexion is ashen. When she swallows it sounds like two pieces of wet sandpaper rubbing together. “He talks to his test subjects, you know. He knows most of their names. He looks them in the eye when he injects them with his experiments. Do you know why he does that?” asks Roths doing her best to suppress a coughing fit.

  Rethrin shudders and shakes her head.

  “He says he wants to remember what he’s taking from them, because he owes them that much.”

  Rethrin takes a sharp breath and looks like she’s just eaten something that tastes horrendously nasty.

  “Listen to me carefully, Mepida, a man willing to do that does not mince words with his staff. We’re already in the restricted section, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

  Rethrin obviously still doesn’t like it.

  Roths coughs into her sleeve and wipes her eyes. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

  “Such as?”

  Roths eyes are piercing, “If you do, I’ll kill you.”

  Rethrin looks up in surprise.

  Roths is standing perfectly still. “But I do envy you,” and with that, she enters Caufmann’s lab where he is still reading the diagnostics. The door slams down and Caufmann looks up.

  “Hello, Doctor Roths, I’d like your opinion on something.”

  “Of course, William.”

  “Am I going to have to kill Doctor Rethrin?”

  Roths huffs a little, bringing on another hacking cough. “I don’t think so, sir. She still thinks saving the world is supposed to be romantic.”

  Caufmann makes a rumble with his throat. “I don’t think anyone would accept what we do here as saving anything.”

  Roths smirks, “It’s like a gangrenous limb, you have to remove it.”

  “No one ever says thank you while it’s being cut.”

  “Maybe one day,” she hacks again, this time hard enough to nearly double her over. “William, can I have my antigen now?”

  “Oh, yes,” Caufmann says absently, producing a vial from his coat pocket and loading it into a syringe. “I forgot about that, I’m sorry. How are you finding it?” he asks looking up at her.


  Roths tilts her head cracking her neck. “It’s quite crippling, I’d prefer Ebola.”

  Caufmann actually smiles enough to crease his face. “There’s always next week, but I get to test the next one,” he says flicking the syringe before jabbing her arm with the antigen. Most of her veins are black. “How is the pain in the lower spine?”

  “Pretty intense. I started internally haemorrhaging this morning, and felt the parasite move. How far along was I?”

  “Probably another day or two and you would have been too far gone. I have to thank you for enduring it for so long. Initially I found it very disturbing that you were infected.”

  Roths smiles slightly, “I probably don’t want to know the answer, but will the parasite break down with the virus?”

  “It will degrade, don’t worry. It requires an enzyme that the virus produces to sustain itself.”

  She sighs, “For once, knowing that you have no fear of telling the cold hard truth actually comforts me.”

  “You’ll still feel terrible for another day or so.”

  “Do you know why they’ve released this virus?”

  “I have an idea, but I don’t know why this city specifically.”

  Roths’ interest is piqued, “Do tell.”

  Caufmann takes a deep breath. “I need more time before I make an educated guess.”

  6.

  Blackout

  Rennin is pacing outside Caufmann’s office.

  He talks absolute garbage all day, he should be able to tell a slight fib to get the vaccine.

  I don’t care if he says it’s too late for her. I have to try.

  Rennin had been wearing his armour-weave coat to work everyday since his return, but the upper echelons of staff have forced him to revert to wearing his standard black Godyssey tunic. So he wears it over the top of his leather coat, looking absolutely ridiculous, tearing at the seams. But aggravating the staff isn’t bringing its usual solace. And he’s barely even ribbed Wanker for most of the day.

  Carla’s skin is now almost translucent, her veins almost all black. Her back hurts enough to keep her seated most of the time.

  Rennin scratches at his head roughly, then presses the opening plate to Caufmann’s office door and walks in. The doctor looks up, “Your appointment was fifteen minutes ago. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to stop meandering out there.”

  “Sorry, sir, I just get nervous around handsome, gangly, weird men.”

  Caufmann doesn’t react, he just stares at the watchman. “I see. Was she inoculated?”

  “No, sir,” Rennin says stepping forwards.

  Caufmann’s eyes drop back to his desk reading something. “Carla Spencer, is that her name?”

  Rennin’s heart sinks. Well that’s it. “She’s registered on the Embryon Protocol?”

  “It clearly shows that her central nervous system is under considerable duress. The antigen won’t work if it’s administered now, you know.”

  “Yes I know.”

  “I can’t give it to you.”

  The last time Rennin felt like this was crawling from a burned house through the ashes of those closest to him.

  “I haven’t wanted to save a life in twenty years. I’ve killed people for the military, for Godyssey, and for you. The military said I fought for freedom, Godyssey said for the greater good and by the time you asked me I didn’t know or care because all I can remember is people dying. I’ve never saved anyone I cared about and I’m also unsure if I’ve ever tried since,” his face is pallid. “Please… I want to save her,” he almost chokes out.

  Caufmann’s face is unreadable. He’s completely still, which usually means he’s thinking carefully. Rennin makes a shrugging motion and starts finding anywhere else to look but at the doctor.

  Caufmann takes a breath, stands up, puts his hand in his pocket and places a vial on the table. “I’m sorry, Ren. I’ll give you this vial but I urge you not to use it. You’ll be taking a life by wasting this.”

  It is insane and Rennin knows it, but as he walks home he feels slightly better having the antigen with him even if Carla is incurable now. The vial is more of a security blanket anyway.

  He still isn’t sure what he’s going to do with her but he has Killjoy already armed and at the ready. He doesn’t dare to think of shooting her as yet, he’s only choosing to take the gun home. That’s nice and simple. Just taking the gun home and blowing your girlfriend’s head off, he suddenly thinks. He stops in the middle of the street.

  “Fuck!” he spits out, halfway to hyperventilating, drawing a bonus few glances from passers by.

  ◆◆◆

  Arriving back at his apartment, he cautiously opens the door. All the lights are off. Not a single sound comes from the darkened doorway. He forces his lungs to pull in a full breath so he can listen for any sounds.

  Nothing.

  Rennin steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

  His artificial eye can see in the dark far better than his human eye but it’s still not clear enough for his liking. He’s unsure whether or not to turn the light on or draw Killjoy, or both. Apparently the infected all turn hostile sooner or later.

  He flips the light on and finds his living area perfectly tidy. In the bedroom he finds the bed made, the bathroom spotless, and no Carla. The only thing out of the ordinary is the bathroom bin. It seems to be full of rubbish that look a like receipts.

  Red receipts, not the usual colour for a doctor’s office.

  Rennin stoops and picks it up, his face quirking with amused curiosity.

  His face drops when he reads it, “Herbal Flu Remedy,” he says as his bowels freeze over.

  He realizes that if she takes herbal medicine then she never took Caufmann’s vaccine. Rennin’s mobile is in his hand instantly and he dials Carla’s number. After a few rings, “Hello?” she says.

  “Where are you?” he demands a little more aggressively than he meant to.

  “I just wanted to be home, I feel awful.”

  “Are you there now?”

  “Yes, what’s your problem?”

  “Listen to me. I’m coming over, just do not open the door to anyone but me.”

  “Rennin, I-” she stops for a moment, “You’re starting to scare me.”

  “Look, this is not an obsessive thing, you’re infected with a disease and they know where you live.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re killing anyone infected to delay the outbreak.”

  “That’s insane,” she says with a wet cough.

  “I work for them! Just stay there, I have the antidote.”

  Silence on the other end.

  “I know it sounds like a bad action movie written by a concussed neckbeard, but trust me on this, I work for Doctor Caufmann.”

  More silence.

  “Please!”

  A pause. “Okay.”

  “Don’t open the door.”

  “I speak English, Rennin.”

  He is in his car zooming through the rain and city streets before he’s even had a conscious thought. The odds of the military coming for her are quite high if she’s already on the Embryon registry. Since she lives near the lab itself, it is exponentially more likely that there is an assassination team on the way. They will start the executions in the Centre-city District, following a spiral pattern outwards, moving through the Middle-city and finishing with the Outer-city districts.

  Part of Rennin cannot believe how passively the city’s populace are letting this go on. Are they not even the least bit curious as to why the military presence has increased tenfold? Are they really so compliant that they just trust anything Godyssey do? Or are they just glad it’s happening to other people? Sheeple.

  He weaves between cars and traffic, speeding through traffic signals that flash-fine him as he passes but his only thoughts are for Carla. God help anyone audacious enough to step in his path.

  Rennin slows down a little as he approaches
her apartment block. A black armoured car is parked outside, a matte black plate-less vehicle that looks fairly inconspicuous in the dark and rainy night. Someone is already here, possibly for her.

  Rennin parks in a disabled zone, raises his hood and steps out of his car, eyes focussed on the military vehicle. His left eye gleams in the darkness.

  The streets are crawling with cars and people despite the weather and the virus situation; Rennin appreciates the ability to blend with the masses as he crosses the street, sidling into the entrance of the building.

  He takes the stairs two at a time, up to the tenth floor, all leg muscles screaming. Peering down the hallway, Rennin is surprised to see no soldiers at all. He walks towards her door, trying to keep quiet but his left leg makes a distinct thump as he moves. When he arrives at her door, his adrenaline has waned enough for the paranoia to start seeping back in.

  If she sees me like this, she’ll think I’m nuts. The last thing he wants is for her to be scared, especially of him, but in this situation she should be terrified. She can be afraid of me, just so long as she’s alright.

  Rennin waits a moment and rotates his shoulders, cracks his neck and takes a deep breath. He knows she thinks he's mad but they’ll be coming for her. He's poised to knock when he hears a whimper from inside, and Carla’s muffled voice. “Please, don’t.”

  “I'm sorry, miss, it’ll be painless,” says a voice Rennin already despises. He draws Killjoy and kicks the door. It shatters, dangling loosely from its lock, swinging open. He is in the room before the door has had time to settle back towards its damaged frame.

  Inside the room, Rennin sees a Beta HolinMech soldier, his sidearm aimed at Carla’s head.

  Rennin's gun hand trembles as he tries to suppress the blinding fit of burning rage devouring everything within him. "Who the fuck are you?" he spits at the soldier.

  The Beta HolinMech keeps his gun trained on Carla. He doesn’t even seem surprised at Rennin's sudden entrance. "Sir, drop your weapon and put your hands on your head."

  Rennin disconnects from the situation as much as he can. He is going to kill this soldier but realises he can't use Killjoy. The ammunition is too easily traceable. He glances at the soldier's gun. That will do for this meat-sack, all I have to do is grab it.