Robinson Crusoe 2246: (Book 3)

by E. J. Robinson

  Was. Pastor looked at the mute sister and saw she was crying.

  “Dear child. I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” Robinson said. “Where’s Friday? Lysa said she gave birth.”

  At this, Pastor smiled faintly. “I delivered her myself. You forget after a time what it’s like to hold them. She’s a wisp of a thing but pretty as a flower. She has Friday’s nose and your eyes.” And then Pastor’s face turned grim. “Lysa took the baby.”

  “What?” Robinson said. “Why?”

  “She and the others have been preparing something for a while. It has to do with genetics. She thinks the child is special. Conceived naturally, but cleansed and perfected with nanotechnology before birth. I believe she plans to study her.”

  Robinson couldn’t contain his anger. He roared as he rushed the invisible field, slamming it with his fists over and over until Pastor finally pulled him off.

  “Why didn’t you stop her?” Robinson sobbed.

  “I tried,” Pastor said. “I wish I could explain everything…” He grimaced in pain. “Do you retrieve the virus? Does Lysa have it?”

  “Yes. And you know what she plans to do with it, don’t you?”

  Pastor nodded. Robinson thought the man looked older than he’d ever seen him.

  “How could you agree to that? How could you make me a party to it?”

  “I didn’t have a choice. I’m a prisoner to this madness just like you. Only I’ve been here much longer.”

  The thing that had been bothering Robinson resurfaced.

  “When we first came here, Lysa said they hadn’t had a visitor in thirteen years, yet you arrived less than a year before. And just now, she said you were a ‘failed experiment from the start.’ What ‘start’ is she talking about?”

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

  Robinson eyes lit. “You’ve been here before.”

  Pastor stood, unsure he was capable of unburdening himself of the truth but knowing it was time just the same.

  “I was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in the year 1979. Oldest of eleven children. My father was a career hustler and criminal who spent more time in bars and prisons than at home. My mother worked three jobs a day just to make ends meet. When I turned fourteen, I quit school so I could work too. For a while, that was my life. Then I felt the call of the road. In those days, it was much safer to bounce around, though the color of my skin gave me some trouble. I traveled from coast to coast. I lived and loved. And I worked. As a fisherman in Seattle. A basketball coach in Minnesota. A pastor in Florida. Sometime after my twenty-sixth birthday, I took an odd job driving people from a small, deserted airport to a retired military base hidden in the mountains. The same base that now rests under these very towers.

  “One snowy night I was delivering yet another great mind here when news of the pandemic hit. Three hundred of the world’s best and brightest watched the lights blink out on TV, and there was nothing they could do. A handful took their own lives, others left. The rest closed the door, sealed the latches, and set about to ensure man would never stumble again. What you see now is the fruit of those labors.”

  “You’re over two hundred years old?”

  “Genetic enhancement. It was one of their primary goals. To sustain life. I wonder if they knew back then where it would take them.”

  “So everyone here is.…”

  “Equally old, yes. But like all things in life, immortality comes at a cost. DNA accession therapy once a year. The inability to bear children. For Lysa and her ilk, a small sum to pay. For someone like me, an outsider lucky enough to get swept up in their tide? The perfect leash.”

  “But when we first met, you were outside.”

  “They called us the eight. It was a plan not without controversy. The masters had noticed mankind’s resurgence, so they sent eight of us out across the country to assess whether people had learned from their mistakes and whether we might finally open the doors and use all the knowledge we’d acquired to extend our idea of happiness.”

  “And what happened?” Robinson asked, though he knew the answer.

  “Seven of us never returned. And I, having sworn the oath, told them the truth once I did. Mankind hadn’t changed. I spoke of the brutality I had witnessed. The cruelty and evil. It had quite the impact. Unfortunately, what they didn’t hear were the stories of bravery, compassion, and joy. As I said in the forest that day, it’s why I wanted them so desperately to meet you.” Pastor sighed wearily. “Now, I think it would have been better had I not returned at all.”

  “But you would have died without the therapy.”

  “At least my conscience would be clean.”

  Robinson thought of his own selfish acts. Were these better or worse?

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this back then? And please don’t say the oath.”

  Pastor rubbed his face wearily. “The oath is more than just a promise.”

  “Lysa said the irony of the City of Glass is that it is fragile, and she’s right, but not in the way she meant. From the day I arrived here, I saw the towers and the technological advances. But you know what I didn’t see? Smiles. Joy. Peace. The man I met in the forest that day—with his great booming laugh and his love of wine and stories? That man was alive, unlike the one standing before me. Sure, in here you can riddle out life’s secrets. But it’s only out there you can live them. To me, that’s utopia.”

  Pastor looked up at him and nodded. “And that’s why you’re the smartest one here.”

  Suddenly, the building shook with the sound of a detonation far away.

  “What was that?” Robinson asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pastor answered before several loud thrums passed overhead. “But those I recognize. Lysa’s birds.”

  “Saah’s not waiting for morning to attack. He’s coming now,” Robinson said as he leaped to the window calling, “Guard!” One of the city’s men appeared outside the barrier. “Tell Lysa I have information about this attack. Now!”

  As the guard ran off, Robinson hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Peacekeeper

  “Status report.” Lysa said as she walked into the Vista Room, a rotund atop the north tower that doubled as a command center. Holographic images of the city and the exterior valley filled the air in front of them. “Are we under attack?”

  “I’m not certain,” the martial master said. “It appears the enemy discharged something into the sky.”

  “Something?” Lysa snapped. “Was it a weapon or not?”

  “If it is, it never purged the dissimulation barrier. Perhaps it malfunctioned. I’ve sent drones out for a look.”

  “What about the remote sensors?”

  “Data coming back is inconclusive. It’s like something is interfering with their instrumentation.”

  Lysa felt a nervous sensation run up her spine as she remembered the boy’s warning.

  “How long until the birds are in range?” Lysa asked.

  “I should have visual and spectral readings momentarily.”

  Gesta swept in. “What’s happening? Are they advancing?”

  “We’re assessing that now,” Lysa said. “Why aren’t you with Veracruz and the others?”

  “They’ve called for a gathering of the body.”

  Lysa shook her head. “Leave it to that bunch to clambake with barbarians at the gate.”

  “Are we in danger?” Gesta asked.

  “Of course not. But they don’t need to know that. A little dose of fear might be just what the doctor ordered to wake the ordo senatorius up.”

  “Before I forget, the savage boy wants to speak with you. He says he has information you might need about the man out there.”

  “That man is about to be dead. And the boy isn’t far behind him.” Lysa turned back to the martial master. “Status.”

  “Drones coming into range now,” the martial master said.

  Cameras from the drone
s appeared side by side in a hologram HUD, revealing empty desert with a cloud in front of them.

  “What is that?” Gesta said.

  “I’m not sure,” the martial master replied. “Sensors are still having trouble purging it. Trying thermographic and photo-acoustic imaging now.”

  The screen remained fuzzy.

  “Well? Why can’t we see through it?”

  “It appears to be repelling our sensors. The drones are almost in range.”

  Lysa opened her mouth to veto the idea, but turned to Gesta instead. “Get the boy.”

  As Gesta left, the holographic HUD showed the drones cross into the cloud. A warning on the first drone rang out. Visuals went blank soon after and the words “system failure” flashed across the screen as the drone plummeted out of the sky.

  “Losing number one!” the martial master shouted.

  “Recall the other,” Lysa said.

  Too late. The instrumentation failure echoed its predecessor across the hologram HUD.

  “Number two is down,” the martial master said.

  “Fire the acoustic cannons,” Lysa barked.

  “Targeting won’t be able to lock—”

  “Go manual!”

  As the martial master scrambled to adjust, Gesta reentered the room with Robinson, Pastor, and one of the guards.

  “Saah isn’t waiting for morning,” Robinson said. “He’s attacking now.”

  “Really? If the sum of your insight consists of stating the obvious then your presence here is not needed.”

  Pastor saw the cloud on the monitor. “What is that?”

  “A magnetic cloud apparently,” Lysa said. “And if this lunatic thinks he can hide behind it, he is sorely mistaken.”

  “Manual targeting online. Sighting now,” the martial master said.

  “It’s a ruse,” Robinson said.

  “What?” Lysa said.

  “Vardan Saah may be mad, but he’s also very shrewd. He’s not one to act without thinking through all the angles. Every action has a purpose. Every move designed to elicit a response.”

  “So?”

  “So, if Saah threw a target up, he wants you to hit it.”

  “Then who am I to disappoint him? Fire.”

  Four thunderous blasts shook the tower as longitudinal waves of energy broke the sound barrier fractions of a second before they hit the cloud, dispersing it instantly, revealing a barren field beneath.

  Lysa gaped. “What happened? Were they eradicated?”

  “If they were,” the martial master said. “There would be debris, residue. It’s like … they’ve vanished.”

  Robinson suddenly came to a terrible resolution. “Saah had blueprints of here that Joule gave him. I saw them at the farm.”

  “I assure you the city has never used any blueprints.”

  “Not the city,” Robinson said. “The base from before.” He turned to Pastor. “Didn’t you say some of it survived?”

  A horrifying realization set in the room.

  “Bring up the subterranean map,” Lysa said nervously. “Everything that still exists.”

  The martial master repeated the command aloud, and a three-dimensional map appeared on screen.

  “Rotate it over our topography,” Lysa ordered.

  The tension grew thick as the map fell into place, revealing a long, slim corridor that ran out away from the city, lining up with Saah’s army’s previous location.

  Gasps ran through the room.

  “That’s a ventilation shaft from one of the old missile silos,” Pastor said.

  “We have no defenses down there,” the martial master said. “If they reach the central conduit—”

  “Send in more birds,” Lysa ordered.

  “What about the Exodus Vault?” Gesta said. “It’s underground.”

  “It was constructed independently. The only entrance is through the Adytum. It’s secure.”

  “I have to warn the body,” Gesta said, rushing for the door.

  “Wait!” Lysa called, but he was already gone. She turned back to the hologram HUDS, several of which showed the drones’ POV as they moved through the dark, timeworn corridors.

  “You should pull the drones back,” Robinson said. “There’s no room for them to maneuver down there. If they get into the close quarters combat—”

  “Be quiet,” Lysa said.

  “I’m telling you, Saah did his homework. He knows you own the sky. That’s why he’s taken the fight underground. Unless you want to lose more of your resources—”

  “I said stop talking! The birds have kept the peace here for over a hundred years. Rooting a few rats from the sewer will be no different.”

  Robinson’s guard grasped his arm firmly. He looked at Pastor and shook his head.

  The drones continued down the corridor, each agonizing second longer than the last.

  “Maybe we were mistaken,” the martial master said. “Maybe they retreated—”

  At that very moment, the drones turned a corner and ran into a wall of screaming, howling flesh. Blinding drone fire filled the screen as the howls of the augmented echoed through the corridor. Flashes of light and concussive blasts preceded a leaping form bringing down a cudgel. In an instant, the first drone went down, followed quickly by the second as both POVs went dark. The “system failure” warning flashed again in the air.

  The room was silent. Robinson thought he could hear his own heartbeat.

  “That’s three hundred yards from the central conduit,” Pastor said. “If we’re lucky, we have two minutes before they purge the city, Lysa. You need to evacuate now.”

  “Where?” Lysa said, dazed. “There’s nowhere to go.”

  Pastor stepped forward. “Send them to the Exodus Vault. It can protect everyone until we come up with a plan.” She shook her head, frozen. “Lysa! You need to act now.”

  Lysa nodded. “You’re right.” She turned to the martial master. “Activate Peacekeeper.”

  “No!” Pastor shouted. “You can’t!” He took a step in her direction only to cry out in pain and collapse.

  Robinson dropped to his side. “What is it? What have you done to him?”

  “I’ve done nothing,” Lysa said. “It’s the oath.” She nodded to the martial master.

  The man ran his hands over the hologram HUD, and a warning flashed across the screen. A disembodied voice spoke.

  Peacekeeper has been activated. Countdown, ten minutes.

  “What’s Peacekeeper?” Robinson said.

  Lysa’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling upward. “Tabula Rasa.”

  Robinson moved instantly, slamming his guard in the throat and stripping his weapon away. Lysa charged him, but Robinson swung the weapon butt into her face, knocking her unconscious. The martial master stood to halt only when the weapon stopped inches from his face. A tense second, then another explosion rocked the building. The martial master looked at the emerging hologram HUD. A flood of the augmented were streaming out of a smoldering hole in the ground, killing people at random as they fled.

  “The enemy’s in the central courtyard,” the martial master said, sitting. “Birds incoming.”

  The HUD zoomed in as Saah appeared, pulling one of special augmented with him. The man raised his hand, and a mortar shot high into the sky and detonated into a familiar dense cloud. The incoming drones began to fall from the sky.

  Saah grinned, and his eyes seemed to find one of the cameras as if he knew who was watching.

  “Cry havoc,” his voice rang through the speakers, “and let slip the dogs of war!”

  As the spate of monsters spilled from the earth, people fled. They leaped onto rises only to watch horrified as the floating tiles malfunctioned in the mysterious clouds. They plummeted to the streets, those unlucky enough to survive the drop were descended upon by the augmented.

  “Sound the alarm,” Robinson said as he raced for the door. “Get everyone to that vault now!”

  The martial master did as told.
>
  Robinson ran back to the security room. After freeing the mute sister, he retrieved their weapons, activating Scout with a verbal command. Pastor appeared, blood running down his nose.

  “Where are you going?” Pastor asked.

  “To get Friday and my daughter. Are you okay?”

  Pastor nodded. “Follow me.”

  The trio ran down the hall with Scout flying overhead. They mounted three rises to traverse the gap between towers. Weapon fire and screams rang through the atrium. A group of City Guards appeared far below, rushing out the main door of the Adytum. All around them the disembodied voice continued its countdown, Nine minutes until Peacekeeper launch.

  “What’s Peacekeeper?” Robinson shouted across the void.

  “An intercontinental missile from our time, enhanced to disperse an airborne version of the second strain of EBU-GENC into the atmosphere.”

  “They’re really going to go through with it?”

  “It was inevitable.”

  “Can we stop it?”

  Pastor struggled for a moment and then shook his head. “I can’t, no.”

  Robinson nodded, but he caught an odd look coming from the mute sister.

  At the Medica, the standing guard saw their approach and reached for his weapon. He was out before he hit the ground.

  Robinson ripped curtains from their moorings, locating Friday behind the third. He’d imagined finding her a million different ways. Gaunt. Diseased. Frail. She was none of those things. She was only herself, beautiful as the newborn day. He tore at her bonds, and before the second snapped open, she drew him into her arms.

  “They have our daughter,” Friday said once he pulled away.

  “I know. We’ll find her.” After freeing Friday, Robinson turned to Pastor. “Do you know where she’s being held?”

  Pastor shook his head. “The system will no longer recognize me.”

  The disembodied voice sounded, Eight minutes until Peacekeeper launch.

  “Scout,” Robinson said to the bird. “Find our daughter.”

  Scout chirped and flew off. The group followed her.

  Scout led them to one that floor’s exterior platform, which looked over the streets below. The iridescent avenues now ran red with blood, the screams of victims crawling up the towers. Saah’s bloodlust was in full bloom. His pipes blew, and his army cut down the innocent wherever they were found. The alarm had sent the crowd rushing for the Adytum, only to find armed assailants waiting outside.