Isonation

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Isonation Page 22

by In Churl Yo


  The Flu.

  Zoah felt it consume her. She watched it quickly ravage her body as if she were in a time-lapse movie—her health, her youth, extinguished. And now her voice somehow came back, only detached from Zoah, a thing all its own, and she heard it—a sound full of fury and fear, a sound piercing in its torture and regret.

  She heard herself screaming.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Caleb asked, his hands on Zoah’s shoulders. She looked around wide-eyed, disoriented. She was in a brig, lying on a cot, and Caleb was sitting next to her, his eyes full of concern.

  Zoah looked at her hands and recovered. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He regarded her with a knowing look. “I have bad dreams all the time too. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

  Zoah nodded and sat up. Several deep breaths later, she smiled and said, “Must have been that awful food those soldiers gave us. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

  “No, it’s good. The rule is you sleep when you can.”

  She walked over to a nearby sink and washed her face. After drying off with a towel, Zoah watched Caleb across the room pulling a panel off the wall near the cell’s locked door. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I think I can disable the electronic locking mechanism from here.”

  Zoah smiled. “That would be tremendous. It would also be an obvious critical flaw in their security design, don’t you think?”

  Caleb pulled his hands back from the opening and put his fingertips in his mouth after pricking them at the end of a sharp wire. “I remain optimistic,” he replied. “You should too.”

  “It’s hard to be when I’m the whole reason we’re trapped in here in the first place. I’m sorry, Caleb. I was so wrong about Nox.”

  “We made that call together, if I remember,” he said, continuing his work inside the panel. “Don’t let it bother you. It’s not your fault.”

  “I thought we could trust him. I had this feeling about him. How could I have been so wrong?”

  Caleb stopped what he was doing and sat up, about to respond to Zoah’s question, when they both heard a noise out in the hallway beyond the locked door. He replaced the panel and took up a defensive position beside her. Next, they heard a distinct thump like something heavy had fallen, soon followed by an almost identical thump and then scratching, like someone was fiddling with the lock outside.

  Zoah shot Caleb a look of concern, and he responded by picking up one of the metal trays their dinner had been served on and holding it up like a weapon, ready to strike the next thing to walk through the doorway—only when the door finally opened, no one was there.

  They edged closer to the threshold and saw both guards sprawled out, unconscious on the floor. Caleb muttered, “What the--”

  “Heelo!” Zoah cried as the toy drone flew into the room and circled around them both before landing on a nearby table.

  “But you were shot!” she said.

  Her little friend replied with a long series of electronic noises that left Zoah grinning with a wide smile. “The bullet missed Heelo’s important systems and went clean through,” she explained. “The impact sparked one his safety protocols that caused him to shut down, and after his system rebooted, he searched the network and found us here. You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “We finally caught a break.”

  “No, it means Nox is still with us.”

  Caleb shook his head. “That’s a reach. As far as I’m concerned, I’m still going to kill that man the next time I see him.”

  Zoah threw him a defiant look. Caleb grunted.

  “We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “Right now, we avoid the gift horse’s mouth. We finish what we started and stick to the plan. We’ve got work to do.” They pulled the guards into the room and a few minutes later were wearing both soldier’s uniforms. Caleb secured a rifle over his shoulder, then ejected the magazine from his handgun, inspected the bullets inside, jammed it back with the palm of his hand and chambered a round into the barrel.

  “Walk quickly, but don’t look like you’re in a hurry. Be calm and confident, but don’t get lazy. This could all still be a trap. You ready?” Caleb said.

  Zoah nodded and swung the rifle into place on her arm after securing Heelo in a saddle bag. She followed Caleb out into the hallway and locked the guards in their cell, then went left toward a far set of double doors. Another corridor took them to an intersection where he took them left again before finding a stairwell, which he began to ascend.

  “You know where we’re going, right? Where are we going?” Zoah asked, her voice slightly above a whisper.

  Caleb looked at the several flights of stairs above them and said, “We’re going up.”

  She sighed. “Up a creek with no paddle...”

  “You can always go back to the brig. I think it’s almost chow time again,” Caleb offered. Zoah punched him in the arm.

  Minutes later, with several levels below them now, they exited the stairwell and slipped out into a passage with floor-to-ceiling windows along its right wall. Caleb pointed toward a set of large intersecting pipes that ran across their path above them. “Those look like fuel lines.”

  Zoah followed them with her eyes through the glass wall into the next room, which was a large open area full of shipping containers that otherwise obscured a full view of what lay beyond them. They found a door nearby and used one of the guard’s confiscated pass cards to gain access, then stepped out into a warehouse space that was several stories high and wider than their field of vision could see.

  This way, Caleb motioned.

  They traced the pipes through a maze of stacked shipping containers to a pair of massive storage tanks and sat in the shadows to surveil their surroundings.

  “I have a terrible idea,” whispered Zoah.

  “You have a lot of those. But I think I had the same terrible idea five minutes ago.”

  “We’re here to create a distraction, aren’t we?”

  “For the record, I’m not a fan of explosions in underground bases, as we will still be in said base when it happens.”

  “It won’t blow right away. Probably.”

  Caleb gritted his teeth, then stepped out into the light, motioning for Zoah to fall in step beside him. They marched out into the open on a beeline for the fuel tanks and were well on their way when something large on their left caught Zoah’s eye. She stopped walking.

  Caleb sensed her falling back and turned around to see Zoah staring at something with her mouth agape. He followed her track, but it took a few moments before Caleb registered the object—then he still couldn’t believe it.

  “Is that?” he asked.

  “That depends,” Zoah replied. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  CHAPTER 27

  What Caleb saw was the core stage from a variant of NASA’s Space Launch System, or SLS, rocket. It sat larger than life, a steaming, metallic behemoth with engines ready to spew fiery mayhem on everything around them—the rocket’s sole purpose to defy gravity via controlled explosion and deliver its freight into the cold vacuum of space. It was not something you see every day—not anything Caleb thought he’d ever see in his lifetime.

  Moving closer, they walked toward a pair of massive blast doors and then beyond its threshold, where they could see the rest of the SLS standing over 100 meters high with what looked like a larger-than-normal, modified stealth drone sitting atop its heavy payload. Twin solid-fuel boosters rested on either side of the main body, which held four RS-25 liquid-propellant engines—all of which were capable of lifting 70 metric tons into Earth orbit at an impressive thrust of 3.8 million kilograms. Several teams of workers were busy in the distance preparing for what looked like an impending launch.

  “Let’s go,” said Caleb.

  “Is that the ship Ogden and Nox were talking about?”

  “I’m guessing yes.”

  “Then we can’t blow up the fuel,” Zoah said.

  “I kn
ow.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “We stall for time and pray the cavalry arrives soon. Follow my lead.” Caleb walked them back toward the two storage tanks and headed straight toward a technician monitoring the fuel transfer on a virtual display.

  “You,” he said as they approached. “Stop what you’re doing.”

  The tech looked both startled and annoyed. “Are you kidding me? I’m in the middle of fueling.”

  “Command’s detecting a slight fall-off and wanted to make sure there isn’t a leak,” said Caleb.

  “There’s no leak. I’m looking at the readouts right now.”

  “Sorry, it’s not our call,” Zoah said, offering some sympathy in her voice.

  “They want a visual inspection,” added Caleb. “How about we just get it over with so we can all go back to what we’re supposed to be doing?”

  The tech let out a deep breath then muttered, “Unbelievable.”

  He led them through a series of interconnecting pipes into a back area and began verifying seal integrities with a pen light from the first set of couplings that emerged from the wall. Then Caleb checked to make sure they were alone before introducing the butt end of his rifle to the back of the unsuspecting technician’s head, knocking him out cold.

  “Change into his overalls,” Caleb said. Zoah switched from the oversized desert fatigues into the better-sized work suit. The tech was closer in build to her than the soldier had been, and the change left Zoah feeling much less conspicuous. They pulled the unconscious man back into the shadows, then reversed back to where they first encountered him.

  Zoah lowered the visor she borrowed from the technician and tapped a few command codes into her cufflink to access the fueling work station. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve got entry. What should I do?”

  “Gum up the works. Maybe create some sort of back pressure on the system. They’ll have to abort the countdown until they figure out what’s happening.”

  “Hang on.” She swiped the air searching for the right directory, then used her fingers to enlarge a window on her virtual desktop. She paused. “Huh.”

  “What is it?” Caleb asked.

  “I’m getting some pushback from the system. Almost like it’s crashing but not. Weird.”

  Caleb looked around the fuel bay uneasily. “Log out then. We’ll try somewhere else. Let’s go.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Nox stepped out from behind a large fuel pump with his weapon drawn. “We seem to keep having this dance, don’t we?”

  “Nox. Perfect,” said Caleb while leveling his rifle back at him. “Saves me the trouble of having to hunt you down.”

  “Why are you doing this? You can still let us go,” Zoah pleaded.

  The man with white hair offered her a plaintive look before signaling to a group of hidden soldiers to move in and surround them. Once disarmed, the two were put on their knees with their hands behind their head, a position they’d gotten to know quite well lately. A nearby monitor blipped to life, revealing a distracted Theo Ogden staring back at them. “Report,” the CEO said through the connection.

  “We found them attempting to sabotage the fuel system,” Nox responded.

  “Now, how do you suppose they escaped in the first place?” asked Ogden.

  “I don’t know. They’re resourceful.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  Nox holstered his sidearm and stepped in front of the video display. “I’ll escort them back to the detention center, sir.”

  “Why, so they can simply get out again?”

  “We’ll double the guard.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” said Ogden. “Double the guard. Bind them in shackles with heavy iron balls. Perhaps employ a pack of rabid attack dogs. Despite your every precaution, I feel we are doomed to relive these circumstances again and again and again. It’s inefficient.”

  “I don’t read you, sir.”

  “Oh, but I think you do. Captain?”

  The officer stepped forward into Ogden’s view. “Sir!”

  “Please relieve Nox of his weapon and place him under arrest with the prisoners.”

  The man with white hair knew better than to resist. He allowed the soldier to take his handgun and lead him next to Zoah, where he knelt and assumed the position.

  “Welcome back to the team,” Zoah whispered.

  “Not my team,” hissed Caleb.

  “I’m sorry about this, Zoah,” Nox whispered back. “I tried…”

  “You’ve been playing both sides of the field, Nox,” Ogden said. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but here we are.”

  “This is circumstantial at best, sir. You’re making a mistake.”

  “Yes, well, better safe than sorry. Captain, execute the prisoners after I end this call. I’d rather not expose myself to such imagery. Some things can’t be unseen, after all, and besides, I have a flight to catch. Goodbye, Nox. I have no more time for pretense or play acting. So, for real this time, consider your employment with the Ceres Corporation immediately…”

  Darkness.

  The air was thick and quiet as the lights blacked out and everything electrical died, then the tell-tale sound of generators winding down filled in the void left behind. A beat later, the mechanical clank of breakers popping echoed throughout the hangar while battery-powered emergency lights sensed the disruption and flickered to life, bathing everything in a red hue.

  Caleb moved. The distraction bought him the half moment he needed to reach the soldier standing closest to him and deliver a hard blow against the man’s left temple, knocking the guard out with no chance to respond. Caleb then began pulling at the strap across the soldier’s body to free his rifle. The odds were bad to begin with, Caleb knew, but there was no way in hell he was going to go down without a fight. He just needed something to shoot with—fast.

  Nox saw it happening and followed Caleb’s lead. Using his leg, he swept a nearby guard’s feet and the man fell, exposing his chin to a follow up punch by Nox that may have loosened a tooth and relieved the soldier of consciousness.

  Two quick actions that brought about two desired results.

  But the numbers were against them. Just as Caleb sighted the captain with his rifle and Nox aimed his handgun at another soldier, the military squad had reacted by drawing their weapons and pointing them back at their prisoners, forcing a standoff. The captain drew back the hammer of his sidearm for effect, as he had his barrel pressed against the side of Zoah’s head, and ordered them to stand down.

  “I thought you were an officer in the military,” Nox responded.

  “Three years running.”

  “Since when do officers murder innocent civilians?”

  “You’re no longer in my chain of command,” the captain spat. “I don’t answer to you.”

  “So you’re going to follow the orders of some pencil pusher who doesn’t even have the stomach to witness the consequences of his decisions?”

  The captain searched for a response, his eyes darting back and forth, his feet shuffling beneath him as the officer struggled to get a handle on the situation. “Drop your weapons now,” the soldier replied. “You’re outgunned. We outnumber you three to one.”

  The man with white hair clicked his tongue and grinned. “Do you believe your C.O. would authorize any of this?” Nox asked. “It’s a hell of a way to run a post.”

  No one moved. A stalemate was in the making, but then a series of low rumbles could be heard above them, and they all looked up.

  “That sounded like ordinance,” said Caleb.

  The next noise they all recognized. Something had exploded at ground level on the surface—a vehicle or something combustible in a storage facility. A fine shower of dust fell on them, released from the excavated rocky ceiling high above, and a concussive force shook the room. You could hear people screaming and running in the distance.

  “Buy yourself some time,” Nox said. “Put us in the brig. That frees you up to engage whatever’s
happening up there, where from the sound of it the real action is, right? You can deal with us later after conferring with a senior officer. Don’t do something you’ll only regret later.”

  The captain considered the man with white hair’s words for a moment before lowering his weapon and releasing his hold on Zoah’s arm. He opened his mouth to give his men an order but then fell unconscious to the ground.

  Caleb watched him fall. He looked at Nox as the rest of the soldiers around them all collapsed where they stood—every one of them now out cold and littered on the floor around them.

  Zoah spotted movement in the distance, then jumped up and ran toward it as fast as she could. A few seconds later, she was hugging Milton, tears welling in her eyes. “You made it,” she whispered in his ear.

  “We sure did,” Milton replied. Neema and Tifa lowered their stun rifles, smiling at the reception he was receiving. Arsenal shouldered his long gun and sniffed the air.

  “Looks like they’re about to launch their drone response force,” Elsif said, his attention on the images being projected onto his visor. Baller was helping him walk by guiding his movements, ensuring Elsif didn’t step into a wall or a room full of combatants. “I’m coming about for another run.”

  “What’s he doing?” Zoah asked.

  “Elsif is remote piloting our drone ships on the surface,” said Neema. “When we couldn’t find you, we had to create our own diversion. Some of our ships are armed with rockets and all of them have guns—great at creating mayhem. Once they were engaged, we took the electronic defensive systems on one at a time until we got in and cut the power. We figured that would keep things plenty interesting for a while. What happened to you?”

  “We had some…complications,” Caleb explained as he stepped into the group with Nox close behind. “I take it by the others with you that you succeeded.”

  “They only took a little convincing,” Neema said. “Once committed though, we go with gusto. It didn’t take long to hack the base computers once we were inside. We were having a look around when we intercepted Ogden’s transmission and came to help. The Kiter Five…”

  “Do the introductions later,” the man with white hair interrupted. “When the backup generators kick in, we won’t have much time.”

 

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