FLOOR 21: Descent (The Tower Legacy)

by Jason Luthor

  “If it hadn’t, would you have let them do it to me?” At this point my voice feels like it can barely get passed my lips. “Would you have let them send me to Reinforcement?

  “Why are you asking?”

  “Because Mike’s got something weird going on, and I don’t want anything to happen to him. And, commander, I would do anything to save him. Anything. I don’t care who I have to go through. I’m going to save him.”

  He just looks at me for a long time before he can finally say anything. “I wouldn’t have let it happen, Jackie. Reinforcement, I mean. I understand your commitment to saving Mike. I feel the same way about the people of this Tower.”

  “How do I trust you though?”

  “I can only let my actions speak for themselves.”

  If anything makes me doubt what I might have to do, it’s those words, because even as far back as the fight with Sally, the commander was always putting his life at risk for people. “Commander.”

  “Yes, Jackie.”

  “You’re always talking about protecting life. You’ve said sometimes we have to take out a few to protect the rest. I get that. Thing is, I can’t stop seeing faces of people I’ve dealt with, you know? Sally. Then one of the Cultists I took out when we first got down here. How can we say we protect people when we have to do so much killing?”

  “We can only try our best, Jackie. We’re only human. We can’t save everyone. When we can, we should try. Still, if there’s ever a time when it’s justified to kill, it’s to save your own life or the life of another. I won’t tell you that you should get used to killing. I can tell you that you have to get used to the idea that there are people in this world that want to harm you, and no amount of talking will convince them to put down their weapons. In that case, you can either let them kill you or not. Given the choice, I’d fight to save my life, but I’m not going to tell someone else they should do the same. What I will say is that, even if you don’t believe you should personally fight to protect your own life, even if you’re that opposed to killing, you do have a responsibility to fight for someone else. What you do with your own life is your own choice, but letting someone else die? You might as well be the one pulling the trigger. That’s how I live with myself, Jackie. That’s why I can do what I do. Because I know that I fight to protect others even if that means I have to kill. And people like David Marshall and Creepy Sally? Given the chance, they’d wipe us all out. You’re not killing them just to kill them. You’re killing them to save your mother, your father, your best friends. Mike.”

  I guess whenever the commander really wants to, he can put on a real show. “Some speech, commander.”

  “I practice it routinely.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Not at all.” He smiles, one of the few I’ve ever seen from him, before he gets up. When he does, he stretches out a hand to grab mine. “Are you ready, rookie?”

  Our hands lock up as he pulls me to my feet. “Ready, commander.”

  Recording Thirty-Four

  Vick doesn’t have all the details, but he’s got a pretty good idea of where Mike is. We end up searching a part of the Tower that’s more schizo than normal. Like, one minute we’re in a hall with couches or chairs, and the next we’re in a lab filled with test tubes and microscopes. It’s not like it’s gradual. It’s back to back. We find busted windows that look into rooms filled with huge Creep Clusters, like the size of five people, just growing out of the floor. Once in a while we find rows of powered computers, which is the first sign that electricity’s running here. There’s still lots of places where the lighting’s out, but there’s enough that it doesn’t feel like we’re wandering in the darkness.

  The weird switch between places where people lived and worked gets me into the habit of taking every chance I can to look at my surroundings, and whenever we come to a stop, I’m always drawn to the computers. We’re standing around while Abbott plans out the next move, and I can’t stop staring at the aisles of static monitors, like the screens can’t figure out what they want to show. I’m doing this as he’s talking out loud when I realize one of the computers is actually working. What’s really weird? I recognize what I’m seeing. “Hey, guys,” I say, motioning to everyone as I wander off. “I think I know where that symbol came from.”

  The commander’s eyes dance over to me. “What symbol?”

  “You know, the one the Cultists are using.”

  They all crowd around me and look at the monitor. Spinning on the screen is an eight armed cross inside of a wheel and above it’s an infinity symbol. At the very bottom are the words APEIRON. When I look around, everyone seems as confused as I do. “So, I’m guessing nobody knows what this means.”

  Tommy laughs. “I’ve never even heard that word before.”

  “Yeah, me either.” I look over at Abbott. “Commander?”

  He just shakes his head. “If nothing else, it’s clear the Cultists have borrowed their symbol from whatever this Apeiron is. What it means, though? I don’t have the slightest idea.”

  “Well, batters line up because we’re really striking out on this one.”

  “Indeed. What happens if you try to use it?”

  I turn around and tap at the keyboard, but the only thing that pops up is a box that says ENTER PASSWORD. “Not exactly what I was going for.”

  “No matter. It’s not an immediate concern. Once I’ve finished bringing David Marshall to justice, we’ll have time to look into these computers. Who knows? This Apeiron phrase may be related to that engine we saw. It might even contain some clue as to how to get out of this Tower, in case any of you have forgotten what the third part of our mission is all about.”

  If anybody hasn’t, it’s me. On the list of things I think are a priority at the moment though, it’s near the bottom. It’s a pretty short list, but survival and finding Mike are at the top of it. That’s the last thought in my head before we sprint into a gigantic room. It must have doubled as a warehouse because there are stairs on both sides leading to walkway overhead, and there’s a bunch of crates stacked around rows of computers. Also, I should mention the rows of glass prisons, like the one Vick was in. Some are busted, with big piles of tiny shards shining on the floor. Others are still holding together, but the liquid inside is just gross. It’s all putrefied, black and purplish, and I can barely make out corpses rotting away inside of them. What’s scary are the ones that still look like they’re working. There are Creepers inside, and I can’t tell if they’re awake, but I know what they look like by now. Their fingers are the size of my forearm, and their bodies are covered in growths that bubble around their chests and shoulders, like muscle that’s growing out of control.

  My eyes absorb all this in the second before I hear the crack of a gunshot. It comes from the level above us, and immediately the entire team’s flying for shelter. My body goes sliding behind a lab table as the walls behind us pop open with bullet holes, and I’m scrambling for my rifle while bits and pieces of shrapnel go exploding over my head. At my back, the entire wall of computers dies in a blossom of orange sparks that heat up the cold air. My sight’s a little blurry, but across what feels like a valley of distance, I see Abbott as he motions toward me. I get what he’s trying to say, but I can feel the veins pumping in my eyeballs as my very understandable desire to stay alive suddenly kicks up about ten notches. Keeping behind cover takes a lot of focus, but I rush away, putting space between me and the rest of the team. There are a lot of moving parts to this plan, and somehow, I can feel the guns above trying to tag me as I slink away. Still, even if I can’t see what’s happening, I know that there’s a small, explosive present soaring through the air right now.

  The shouting and gunfire I’ve been hearing is swallowed by a boom so loud that I can feel it cascading down my skin. It triggers me, and I rise up over the table with my rifle buried into my shoulder. Then it’s just rat-tat-tat as I spray the air overhead, sending any survivors diving away. Somehow, I’m able to keep the
Cultists pinned down as Lieutenant Shields and Captain Sunny try to do the same, but what’s really got me scared is the sight of Tommy and the commander as they sprint up the opposite stairs along the walls. All I can do is cover them the best I can as they rush up, but everything’s happening all at once, and I barely see Tommy in the corner of my eye. His gun’s arcing to the side as he flips around the banister on the second floor, but before he’s gotten a shot off, I see him flailing backward into the wall.

  “Tommy!” I scream as I start to peel off to the stairs. It’s a stupid move, and I just trust that the commander’s got this handled for a few more seconds. Abbott’s walking along the upper level, and I hear an endless chorus of bullets singing with the mix of screams. Maybe any other time it’d bother me, but I’m almost dead to the world as I sprint up to Tommy. Forgetting to check to see if anyone’s aiming for me is another stupid move, and I’m lucky that, once I get to the top, there’s nothing but bodies lying across the ground. The gore is so blatant that I have to take a second to absorb the amount of blood that’s soaking the floor. I don’t know what was worse for these guys: dying by grenade or dying by bullet. All I know is I hope Tommy’s not about to join them, and my hands are all over him for a second. “Don’t die, you jerk,” I barely get out of my mouth as I search for the wound. “What happened? What the hell happened?”

  His eyes roll my way, and he waves me in. My hands are clutching around his collar, and I feel like I’m about to choke as I lean into him, when he whispers, “Damn, Jackie, it’s nothing.” Then he laughs, and I yank myself away from him as he says, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “Just a flesh wound, my ass,” I cry back as my fingers explore the hole in his sleeve. I don’t care what he says, I’m still panicking hard enough to double-take as the commander arrives.

  “How is he?” Abbott asks.

  I’m huffing as my fingers search the ripped fabric of his shirt, but after a few seconds of probing, my face scrunches together. “It really was just a flesh wound.”

  Tommy’s laughing, but, I mean, it really is. The bullet tagged him on the shoulder and obviously bleeding sucks, but it could have been a lot worse. Soon, Sunny’s there too, and at least he backs me up. “She’s right,” he says after a second of checking out the wound. “Nothing major. Some skin and muscle, but nothing that’s going to kill him.”

  I’m busy being angry at Tommy when I notice the sound of the lab door opening. I might not know who it is, but somehow, I already know what’s about to happen. My eyes are barely over the railing in time to see a group of men in gas masks pouring in, and then there’s this terrible second that stretches out for forever. My ears fill up as gunshots fire off again and again, and I have to watch as Lieutenant Shields, still on the lower floor, goes spinning to the ground in a whirlpool of crimson vapor. His body’s barely touched down before their guns are lifting toward us, and we’ve just ducked behind the solid railing before the walls behinds us are punctuated with bullet holes. I’m super aware that this is not a good position to be in, at least not with just four of us. I can see Abbott starting to calculate a way out of this, but then, as suddenly as it started, the bullets stop firing.

  Then?

  Then there’s that voice, calling up at us. “I don’t know who you are, but I’d be more than happy to venture a guess. I’ll say that you are Scavengers, and of course I will be right. What I don’t know is why you’ve decided to wander so far off course. Shouldn’t you be hunting for biscuits or some other such nonsense? That is what you do, after all.”

  I recognize him.

  The voice from the lab.

  For a second, Abbott looks around and motions to our guns. We all nod and check our ammo as he pulls himself over the railing. “You’ll excuse us if we’ve made a mess of things here,” he calls down. “We simply want one of our own back. Nothing else.”

  I stick an eye over the rails. Of course, I recognize him, the guy with the hoodie from back in the lab. David Marshall. He calls back up at the commander, “I’m afraid you’ll have to do without him for the time being. Actually, you’ll have to do without him as a rule. You see, he is of incredible value to me. Quite priceless, actually. There’s something I’ve been searching for, something I’ve been trying to achieve for quite a long time. That boy offers me the best chance at succeeding in my plans as I have ever had.”

  “And those plans would be?”

  “Don’t be daft. You know precisely what it is we’re doing down here. Unless Tower Authority is in the habit of sending buffoons to do their work these days.”

  If that bothers Abbott, he doesn’t show it, not even with a flinch. Instead, he just says, “To bond with the Creep. To become one with it, or some other insanity.”

  “Oh, come now. You make it sound so unappealing.”

  “I’d prefer not to have my body absorbed into this . . .” He waves his hand around. “This mess. I prefer being alive, after all.”

  “Dear boy, we are not just trying to merge with the Creep as you seem to believe. We’re trying to use it to enhance our own state of existence. The Creep is made of cells that never die, that draw on infinite sources of energy and grant unlimited strength. Can you imagine the benefits of harnessing that power? Now, of course we’ve had some failures in our experiments, and you’ve no doubt seen the evidence of that. Though, that’s all water under the bridge since, with the help of your man, we’ll be able to exert some control over the biomass. After all, the only reason we’re in this mess here in the Tower is because we lost control of the Creep in the first place, unless you think the Builders intended to have us stranded and left to die.” His smirk just advertises cockiness like an obnoxious sign. “I’d rather think not, of course.”

  “Are you telling me you think they created the Creep?”

  “No. I’m saying they accidentally gave rise to it. Of course, I’m fuzzy on the details, as we all happen to be on the issue of history. Though, at least my explanation gives some substance to the Book of the Tower’s claims that we brought this on ourselves. Don’t you agree?”

  Abbott shakes his head as he leans over the railing. “Here’s what I agree about. I agree that you are illegally holding one of my men, and that before I leave this floor, I’ll have him back. If you make a single attempt to stop me then I’ll be forced to put you down along with all your men. Are we clear?”

  David stands there a second with his hands folded behind his back. “Pity. Of course, I understand your position. After all, I was once myself a researcher from the upper levels. Then I realized the potential the Creep offered, and things became . . .” He stands there quiet for a long second. “Well, let’s just say things became complicated. I wonder if Pygmalion bothered filling you in on all those details.”

  The mention of the director feels like I’ve had the wind punched out of me, and for the first time I can see Abbott’s face twitch. He knows who Pygmalion is, and this guy, David, was important enough to know him too. It’s a really small circle that knows about the director and what he does, and I’m not even sure that anyone else on the team has heard the name Pygmalion. However important this David guy was, he knew just about everything my dad did. I’m processing all this when David Marshall points to a door that’s standing behind the commander. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been searching far too long for that boy and it’s about time I claimed what’s mine. You are, quite literally, standing between me and the door to my future.”

  Abbott signals us with an almost unnoticeable twitch of his hand. We all brace and put our fingers on the triggers of our guns as he says, “I’m sure you’ll understand me when I say that I can’t do that. I don’t give up my men as hostages.”

  “So, you’ll persist with this silly little game, then? Do you have any idea why Pygmalion even really sent you?” His hand flips into his coat pocket and he yanks out a tablet. After a few seconds, the few computer screens that haven’t been blown to hell flicker to life, and I can see someone
standing in another room. There’s a long moment when I can’t make out anything but the uniform, which is definitely a Scavenger’s. He’s wearing the blue jumpsuit any of us would wear if we didn’t have something of our own to use, not that I really care about that. What gets me is that, as this person gets closer, I recognize that silky brown hair that I’d always liked. Once upon a time, it was like water. Now it’s clumped together and plastered to his face with sweat and blood.

  “Mike,” I whisper.

  David speaks at one of the nearest monitors. “Young man, it may be of some interest to you to know that you have guests. They are right outside your door, as a matter of fact. However, they seem to be behaving themselves quite rudely, and I do not abide rude houseguests. Would you mind having a word with them?”

  Mike stares into the camera, and I can see him squinting. He probably can’t see us too well either. “Who are they?” I hear him say through the speakers.

  “Some of your fellow Scavengers, descending from on high to rescue you. Unfortunately, I told them I can’t let you go, but they don’t seem to want to take that for an answer. So, here’s my offer. I have nine men in this room and just as many outside. If you continue to hide from us, I will simply have your friends killed. It’s no skin off my shoulders, and you’ll still be mine. Is my offer clear? Continue hiding, and everyone here dies. Turn yourself over peacefully, and I’ll spare them.”

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure this won’t go over well with Mike. I mean, I can already see him panicking at the idea. His eyes blow wide open as he looks back and forth around his room before staring back into the camera. He was always like that, basically just a cool dude who didn’t want to hurt anyone. This is a guy that spent his free time jamming on his guitar and writing songs, not trying to play superhero, so it’s almost painful to watch him. I mean, I know he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. It’s just written all over his face.