Raddocks Horizon (Godyssey Legacy Book 1)

by Duran Cross

  Sarah nods. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. We will be found sooner or later, but we have decided that dying with some dignity may not be as bad as it sounds.”

  Sindaris can’t find an answer even with all his years of developing a formidable mind. He cannot believe that his life has come to this. How can he be brought back from death just to wait in a room to die again? There’s something I’m missing.

  Sindaris remembers one of the contaminants feeling an overwhelming feeling of terror upon seeing a soldier called ‘Demon’ but that was, of course, Damon Kowalski the poster boy for Beta HolinMech. Though there was another wisp throughout the contaminant share-mind of someone who killed six in one sitting. A marksman. Someone near the lab.

  Sindaris closes his eyes intently trying to filter through his own mind and enter the surrounding thoughts of the contaminants. Being only one mind he can simply stretch out his feelings and absorb their thoughts turning his own mind into an intelligence junction. Since all contaminants share their very lives and memories any of them would know who killed the contaminants the night of the first real emergence.

  He can see well into the minds of dozens nearby when he really focuses. A disturbing amount of them are eating. There’s a feeling akin to a pinging in his mind when he suddenly gains full knowledge of a coordinated attack on a military group in Centre-city near the stadium. The entire attack isn’t to kill the immune people, it’s to kill one person specifically.

  Sindaris hears himself gasp as he learns that this sniper was infected at some point and the genetic scarring by the virus allows contaminants to weed him out with enough effort. A name: Running Fro appears in his memory. Sindaris is sceptical for a moment but remembers that these others are constantly stupefying. He focuses through their minds looking for one that still has enough mental prowess to remember the real name.

  He is focused for a long time digging through them all, eventually finding a mind with a name and an actual image memory.

  Rennin Farrow.

  Sindaris grins, baring his sharper than normal teeth, as he delves for knowledge of this man.

  He learns that during Rennin’s infection the share-mind absorbed a lot of information about him. At least enough information to learn of many conversations with an infamous doctor who’s apparently called: Coughing.

  The doctor has terribly bright eyes that shine green and Sindaris himself feels a cold dread towards the colour. The standing image of the doctor shifts like liquid into the form of Rennin Farrow then back and forth, one to the next, over and over.

  The doctor has been combating the virus personally with his toxins and the other fought an unknowing android agent of the controller and survived, and is now murdering contaminants by the dozens. Both these men result in a severe rush of adrenaline and murderous intent. Obviously the controller wants them both dead very badly.

  It is then that he realises that Rennin Farrow is just a way to find this doctor. Caufmann. The contaminants are throwing themselves at the stadium to get to him. At that moment the image of Caufmann transforms into a giant eyeless creature that momentarily overwhelms Sindaris with a terrible wave of fear.

  Sindaris’ eyes open to meet Sarah’s multi-mind gaze. “Don’t even think it. They’ll all kill you,” she says.

  Something about having temporary access to all those minds gives Sindaris a vast intellectual boost and with it he senses deception. He flattens the sensation behind a wall of the icy snow he loved as a child. “I’m sorry, but I’m leaving here.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s dangerous.”

  Sindaris does try but he can’t repress a smile for the life of him. “You were truthful in one respect, we are both imperfect.”

  Sarah’s face looks strained. “Yes?”

  “You might not realise it but you’re still under their influence. Rather hopelessly, I’m sorry to say,” Sindaris can feel his muscles tense up and the bones in his knuckles expand pushing against the inside of his skin. “Hunting me failed. So they must have tried setting a few alternate traps around for me. For those like me. I shudder to imagine what happened to those wretched souls.”

  Sarah shakes her head. “We won’t hurt you. We’re going to protect you.”

  Sindaris nods. “I do believe that. I even believe you do also, but I’m afraid it isn’t your thought. Allowed, perhaps, but not yours.”

  Sarah shakes her head. “What? No.”

  “You’re one of them, whether you know it, like it, or not,” says Sindaris solemnly.

  A tear rolls down Sarah’s cheek but it could be any one of the silent ones crying. “No, we’re different.”

  “In some way that’s true, but you’re obviously trapped here and you feel an overpowering need for me to remain here, don’t you?”

  “Well yes, but…” something in Sarah’s face is struck with realisation and as each of the other minds catches on the expression in her face becomes more certain until finally she speaks again. “No…”

  Sindaris’ expression softens. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that!” she shrieks, taking a step back.

  Sindaris takes a step forwards. “The controlling entity wants Doctor Cough-Caufmann,” he corrects, “dead as well as the sniper, very desperately. Desperation indicates that this seemingly invincible contagion is quite fragile to say the least.” He takes a breath as the image of the powerful blind monster slaughtering infected in the arena enters his mind’s eye. “If I kill the controller, you’ll be free. Whatever fragments you have left will be yours.”

  Sarah doesn’t answer.

  “Free of influence.”

  Sarah’s eyes fix on him and there’s a peculiar focus in them. “Influence? If we’re influenced then we have some control.”

  Sindaris nods. “Yes, but you’re still being driven.”

  Sarah smiles and her misshapen teeth show. “I know how… to help you.”

  Sindaris and Sarah’s eyes are transfixed on each other. For a moment Sindaris is struck with paranoia so profound he isn’t sure whether it’s all his own but suddenly everyone in the room is he, himself. He can feel his own mind in all of them as if they are him. The others in the room that have remained quietly concentrating so Sarah can speak all open their eyes in unison.

  Sarah speaks first a little shakily being on her own mental power. “I am Sindaris Tessol.”

  The pair standing next to the barrel fire in the centre of the room speak next. “I am Sindaris Tessol.”

  A woman in the corner speaks next. “I-I am-m Sindaris T-Tessol.”

  “Oh my god,” says Sindaris, awed as he feels several dozen more versions of his consciousness appear all over the city.

  Sarah looks at him. “If we are you, then you are not in Blackhaven killing the controller.”

  ◆◆◆

  With Carmine on the heavy mounted gun, the Dead Star and Genome gunships have taken down a dozen buildings and succeeded in creating a bottleneck for the contaminants down two main kill zones. The military blockade around the district perimeter has been firing for a straight hour. Any contaminant trying to go around the debris is being killed, and there have been so many. Commander Croft’s voice comes over their gunship radios. “Dead Star?”

  “Still here.”

  “I was going to have you flayed for bringing those buildings down, but your idea sure has worked. Combat is beginning to taper off. Land your gunship and assist Raston Squad, they must be exhausted.”

  “Are there many survivors?” asks Rennin.

  “Only squad to suffer zero fatalities.”

  Jesus. “Any hostiles left in the stadium?”

  “Still a few pushing, but Raston’s holding.”

  “Copy, sir. Taking us in.”

  Rennin is still riding a wave of rapture and can’t stand it any longer. He takes Drej’s knife, holding it above his leg, about to stab himself in the thigh to see if pain will let him think clearly; but the knife vibrates again, distracti
ng him.

  The shimmering pearlescent weapon is more a machete than combat knife, the surface seeming to glow before his eyes, the contours in its pattern appear to move or slide as if it’s made of liquid. Rennin sheaths it and reconcentrates on landing.

  Dead Star and Genome make their final approach. During their aerial descent, Rennin sees hundreds of dead contaminants littering the playing field and about two dozen military left standing. All the immune have been successfully evacuated to the fortified zone in Whitechapel.

  Rennin then sees something that makes his mouth drop. An android is standing near the landing zone with a Photon Beam Rifle resting against its shoulder. It is two heads taller than anyone around it. Del. He’s been the one holding the stadium line. Rennin is so surprised he doesn’t realise he’s still descending. Dead Star touches down hard jolting the former watchman and getting a curse from Carmine as everything tilts crazily.

  Rennin’s still staring at Del through the cockpit when he notices something about Drej’s pulsating knife. It’s not just random vibration, he realises. His eyes widen. Morse Code! Drej has been giving Rennin their whereabouts via his connection to his knife all along. “Feckless cock-swabbing fuck sock!” Rennin half shrieks in self-reproach.

  He is still busy wondering how he could have missed something so painfully obvious when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up,” the voice of Arca Drej himself announces.

  12.

  What’s Left Behind

  In Horizon Stadium Raston Squad has absorbed the remnants of Rennin’s unit and Clone Unit. They are now one single platoon, though in total it is only four additional crewmembers. Caufmann, Del, Drake, Mia Saker, Arca Drej, and Amber Antares make up the sum of Raston Squad itself.

  Fully clad in armour, Arca Drej and Antares are completely hidden. Antares is wearing a mask rather than a helmet since her cable-hair won’t fit in one. Rennin briefly wonders if being open about what they are would be better for morale, though it would be very hard to explain the presence of a CryoZaiyon.

  Rennin hasn’t had the chance to speak with Caufmann yet. After exiting gunship Dead Star, an emergency broadcast appears over every working terminal citywide. The Raddocks Horizon evening news anchor, Ellie Andress, is presenting it via the Stadium’s big-screen. With 3D technology such as it is she looks like she’s sitting just on the other side of a window, albeit a giant.

  “As the infection spreads to more areas of Raddocks Horizon, the city has effectively been locked down,” she says, “the local military have commandeered Desolator satellites and fired on a zone apparently overrun by hostile Horizonians. The use of the—thought to be decommissioned—technology has brought into doubt the military’s ability to control the rampaging population.

  “Gateway itself has been absolutely flooded with evacuees despite martial law curfew that advises all people to stay indoors, especially at night, and to remain in designated safe zones. As of tomorrow, all areas considered contaminated will be-” she swallows reflexively, “-cleared. Without exception. Anyone infected trying to leave these zones will be… uh…” she stammers, looking sideways at someone out of frame for a moment, “shot.”

  Rennin glances at the sky where the circular, clawed, shape of a Desolator satellite can just be seen poking through the cloud line. “Sounds like someone’s got an itchy trigger finger.”

  “Did they always sit so low? Couldn’t be higher than a couple hundred metres,” asks Drake.

  “Gravitic Repulsor technology. They were built to fire in atmosphere, and being so low it made the enemy think twice before shooting them down. There was no way to know what they’d land on,” says Rennin, staring back at the screen.

  “Earlier today, the Horizon Military fought against the first onrush of crazed infected in the Middle-city District near to Horizon Stadium. The Godyssey lab has identified them as ‘contaminants.’ Though the siege was successful it is estimated that over half the troops deployed were killed.”

  Rennin shakes his head. “Jesus.”

  “A warning has since been issued that no verbal calls for help are to be heeded under any circumstances.”

  “Didn’t they believe our report about the Screamers?” asks Drake.

  “In the studio at the moment we have Lord Mayor Nyder Raddocks, whom has graciously agreed to an interview in this very difficult time for the city,” she turns in her chair to face Nyder Raddocks. “Lord mayor, thankyou for joining us.”

  Raddocks is an officious looking wiry man in his forties wearing a suit worth more than a full working-class education. “Good evening.”

  “Sir, the public demands to know why we have not called for outside aid.”

  Raddocks doesn’t seem to react at all. “This disease is not to be risked escaping the city.”

  “I’m sure most of us can understand that logically but there is a desperate plea from people in the city to call the Alpha HolinMech unit to help us. As an android strike force they’ll be immune.”

  Raddocks’ face remains impassive. “I’m afraid they aren’t available.”

  “Mayor Raddocks, we are facing increasingly bleak odds. I’m compelled to ask why they aren’t coming? This is a Godyssey-built city and the HolinMech Program is financed and owned by Godyssey, is it not?”

  “Ownership and rights of call are not the issue, there have been some serious irregularities with the Alpha HolinMech team.”

  “How so?”

  “We have sent an emergency call to Iyatoya Base on the moon but it has been denied.”

  “I wasn’t aware that distress calls could be denied on this kind of scale.”

  Raddocks smiles a bland, mechanical smile. “Miss Andress, Alpha HolinMech units are worth billions of taxpayer dollars and each of them are capable of going head to head with any legion in the world. With that kind of power, you must be very cautious about how to disperse it and be doubly sure that it works.”

  “Why the sudden caution now, though? They’ve been on dozens of missions, I assume.”

  “They have but their last mission was riddled with problems from the beginning. I can’t go into specific details, you understand, but the third in command experienced a seizure and one of the newest models disappeared.”

  “Would this be the one that is rumoured to be AWOL?”

  “Missing In Action might be a better description,” corrects Raddocks.

  “Lord mayor, would the reason behind the denial of aid from the Alpha HolinMechs be that your brother is among them? Second in charge, isn’t he?”

  Raddocks’ composure cracks for barely an instant, if you blinked you would have missed it. His brother being a HolinMech android isn’t common knowledge; at least it wasn’t until now. Not that it really matters, especially if the death toll continues climbing at its current rate. Raddocks manages a mild smirk. “My brother is not in question.”

  “Can’t Iyatoya spare even one of them?”

  “The HolinMech lieutenant had a seizure and he is one of the most effective and reliable units ever built. If he can malfunction then all units must go through diagnostics. I’m sure I don’t need to spell out the dangers of a haywire android loose in the city.”

  “Surely not as destructive as a Desolator satellite?”

  Raddocks’ face reveals nothing. “Can we simply establish that help from them will not be forthcoming?”

  Andress looks down briefly, subtly upset. Rennin looks at her closely and can almost smell her fear. If she thinks she’s going to die here then things are really bad. “Moving on. The people who are immune have been moved here to Whitechapel, are they to be moved outside the city?”

  “If it’s necessary.”

  “I’m just questioning the logic of keeping the immunized in the city and letting out the people who are uninfected by chance,” says Andress.

  “The old township in the Alpine Shire south of here is at full capacity, currently. We were a little overconfident
in our assessment of holding off the contaminant attacks, I admit, but Raddocks Horizon is the best place in the country to develop real treatment in the fastest possible time. This infection needs to be dealt with not hidden from.”

  “Are they test subjects for global immunization?”

  Even Rennin’s face drops at that. He glances to Caufmann, who is staring at the screen deadpan. Something horrible occurs to him. The immune people would make valuable medical assets and using their immune tissue they could create viable working antigens. In a way, it would be like harvesting. A hundred to save a million. He shakes his head. It’s not done like that. Is it? Carla fits into that category, and he handed her over at Gateway.

  On screen, Raddocks shakes his head. “Of course not.”

  “Is there anything we can tell the people who aren’t infected that are trapped in areas designated as contaminated zones?”

  Raddocks breaks eye contact for the first time since the interview began. “Stay calm.”

  For a moment Andress looks at him with a mildly incredulous expression but it’s clear he’s not going to speak again. “Lord mayor, thank you.”

  She turns to face the camera. “Keep this channel tuned because it will be issuing future emergency broadcasts throughout this crisis. I’m Ellie Andress.”

  The screen fades to a blue emergency display with the Godyssey logo in the background and scrolling text along the bottom giving statistics of the danger zones along with current citizen casualties. The casualty list climbs almost by the moment.

  Rennin wipes his mouth with the back of his glove and walks towards the edge of the playing field where the toilets are located. He’s about fifty metres away when he sees the survivor of Clone Unit enter. Rennin sighs as he remembers seeing the sole survivor walking in a daze when gunship Genome touched down outside the stadium, moments before Rennin attempted desertion. He’s still thinking of that image when he enters the toilet just in time for a gunshot to give him the fright of his life.