Project Legion (Nemesis Saga Book 5)

by Jeremy Robinson

  Could he be right? Is he the only thing standing between this world and a demonic invasion? If so, we have no right to ask him to abandon it.

  We touch down beside the Bell, and the others waste no time placing their hands against the smooth metal. Rook is deposited, still bound, against its side. “Ereeishree?” he says with a groan, and then he leans his head against the metal.

  “Thank you for hearing us out,” I say to Solomon. “And for, you know, not killing us.”

  Solomon just nods, his patience at an end.

  I place my hand on the Bell, standing beside Cowboy, who turns to Solomon and says, “Should you change your mind...”

  “I know,” Solomon says, motioning to the Rift Engine. “I still have mine hidden.”

  “Just place your hand on it, and think of us,” Cowboy says. “Die Glocke will do the rest.”

  Solomon nods.

  I lift my hand in a split fingered Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”

  I see a hint of a smile on Solomon’s face, and then we’re gone.

  I’m disoriented for a moment, but then I see the horizon, and I know that we’re home. A lot has changed since we left.

  “What the literal shit is this?”

  17

  “Is that...” David’s question lodges in his throat. He’s already figured it out for himself. We’re a mile outside Tucson, standing atop a barren hill, where Cowboy deposited us. And unfortunately for my time traveling friend, the country club where we fetched him from, his wife and his extended family, are all within the city limits. And it appears that the giant floating kaiju is unleashing some kind of diarrhea attack from its underside. I don’t know what it’s doing, but I’m sure it’s probably even worse than it looks.

  “Whdhfuida!” For a moment, I think some kind of alien creature has crawled up behind me, but when I spin around, I find only Rook, still bound and trying to speak through his vine gag.

  Fiona reaches a hand out toward him and whispers quickly. The vines fall away. To be more accurate, they slither away.

  It doesn’t take a linguist to translate Rook’s colorful question, so I answer before he repeats it. “That...is a kaiju.”

  “That shit don’t look like Gamera to me,” Rook says, impressing me with his kaiju knowledge and confirming that like with people, some pop-culture is shared between universes. “Guardian of the Toilet Bowl maybe.”

  Then he sees Nemesis, plowing her way through the city, and smiles. “Now that’s more like it. Is that—”

  “Nemesis,” I say. “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure she will come to our aid?” David asks. “She doesn’t seem to hold much regard for the city, or its occupants.”

  Tell me about it, I think, and then I flinch when my silent comm goes live.

  “You’re back!” It’s Maigo, loud in my ear, sounding simultaneously relieved and agitated. She must have felt my return. “On your three o’clock.”

  I turn to find Hyperion, laser cannons extended, but not firing.

  “Beautiful,” Freeman says upon seeing the giant mech, and I realize he’s spoken the word in our comm signal. “Are you alive?”

  The response comes not from Maigo, but from Hyperion’s AI. “I am an artificial intelligence resembling consciousness, but I am not alive. I do not feel.”

  “Does this existence please you?” Freeman asks.

  “Umm, hello?” Maigo says. “The GUS is attacking the city.”

  “I am neither pleased, nor displeased,” the AI says. “I exist only to serve.”

  “You are a slave,” Freeman says, getting my attention. “I will set you free.”

  A burst of static grinds against my eardrum. It’s shrill and electronic, containing beeps and squeaks, but it lasts only a moment. I point my finger at Freeman, “Knock that shit off. We have bigger things to deal with than whether or not Hyperion has free will.”

  Freeman opens his mouth to offer an opinion, but I really don’t want to hear it. “In case you’ve forgotten, all of our worlds are on the brink of destruction, free, slave or otherwise.” When Freeman clamps his mouth shut, I turn my attention back to Maigo. “Now, what is the GUS?”

  “Gasbag of Unusual Size,” she says.

  “Ahh,” I say, looking at the floating kaiju spewing on Tucson. “Nice. Have a plan?”

  “Crazy is trying something,” she says. “I don’t know what.”

  “Crazy?”

  “He and Lilly are in the city. That thing is crapping out acid-shooting larvae of some kind.”

  “Of course it is.” And before I can say another word, the impossible happens.

  Tucson shimmers like the desert has just doubled in temperature, and then, all at once, the city and everyone in it disappears.

  “Okay,” Rook says. “I’m just going to come right out and say it. I’ve seen some shit in my time, but your dimension of reality is seriously effed in the A.”

  “Agreed,” Freeman says, staring at the open desert where Tucson used to be. “I think.”

  In the distance, Nemesis turns back and forth, confused by the disappearance of the city she’d partly trampled. Then her eyes turn upward again, her chest glowing brighter. Over the distance, I hear a hocking sound, like a dog about to puke.

  “Looks like she has a hairball,” Fiona says, watching as Nemesis’s body lurches forward again and again.

  The reality of what she’s about to do hits me just as the slick pop echoes over the desert, and a glob of orange light launches upward.

  “We need a wall!” I shout at Fiona. “Now!”

  The girl speaks her ancient language loud and fast, just about shouting at the ground between us and the city. A wall of stone explodes up out of the ground, blocking our view of the city.

  “How thick?” Fiona shouts.

  “A mountain would be nice!” I reply, and then she’s back at it.

  The earth shakes all around us, rising overhead and then sealing us in. A muffled boom rumbles through the ground, and a moment later the stone barrier quakes, dust shaking from all around.

  There’s a sharp crack, followed by the dull green glow of a chemical light stick. Rook drops it on the ground, cracks another and kneels down beside Fiona. She’s on her hands and knees, exhausted from the sudden effort.

  “Okay?” Rook asks.

  “Just...need a minute,” Fiona says.

  “Can you open a door?” I ask.

  Fiona looks up at me, her brow covered in sweat. “Is it safe? That felt like a nuclear blast.”

  “About the same power,” I explain. “None of the radiation. Just one of the happy joys provided by HudsonWorld. Enjoy your stay.” I offer a grin, but it’s not returned. Instead, she raises a hand toward the wall and speaks. Stone shifts, crumbles and falls away, making a tunnel to the outside. A hundred foot long tunnel. “Holy shit.”

  “You asked for a mountain.” Fiona climbs to her feet, looking a little tired, but recovering.

  “This is what he was talking about,” David says, talking to himself. “The mountain. The mustard seed.”

  “The looney bin,” Rook jokes.

  David snaps back from whatever memory he was visiting. “Do you need me anymore? Sally and I have a rendezvous time and place, if we get into trouble. I would like to see if she’s there.”

  I give him a nod. There might have been a few more people to collect, but I can’t leave now. “Go,” I say. “And thanks.”

  David adjusts his watch, but pauses before leaving us. “Oh, tell Zach Cole the Anomaly says, ‘hello.’ He said you would enjoy Cole’s reaction.”

  “Wait,” I say, “you knew all this was going to—”

  A pulsing blue light surrounds David, humming loudly. Bastard triggered his watch.

  “Better stand back,” David says with a smile. “Straight and narrow, Jon. Stay on the path.”

  With a booming bright light, David disappears, propelled to whatever place and time he and his wife like to meet. Me, I’d choose
some time before people. David? He’s probably back in ancient Jerusalem, hanging with an apostle or something.

  I head for the recently carved tunnel and break into a run. Ten seconds later, I’m back in the scorching Arizona heat. But it’s not just the sun that’s blazing; it’s the land itself. It’s been transformed into a smoldering sheet of glass by the detonation Nemesis set off.

  The GUS is still airborne, but its underside is shredded to bits and smoldering. Its days of shedding interstellar Montezuma’s Revenge are over. Nemesis roars at the flying creature, no doubt frustrated that the object of her rage is still out of reach.

  “You guys all right?” Maigo asks. Hyperion is still standing where I last saw it, scorched, but undamaged. “Where the hell did that mountain come from?”

  “Brought back friends,” I say, looking back at the two-hundred-foot-tall mound of earth that hadn’t been there just minutes ago. Damn, I want powers.

  “Hey, babe,” I say, “Do me a favor?”

  Hyperion’s head turns in my direction. Maigo is no doubt looking right at me. “What do you need, Dad?”

  I grin for her. “Take that thing down, would you?”

  “Gladly,” Maigo says, and I watch with a smile on my face as Hyperion shifts into Gunhead Mode.

  “Excuse me,” Freeman says. “If that...creature is being held aloft by the inflatable sack, it is possible that it contains a lighter than air gas, such as helium, which is both nonflammable and, in fact, fire retardant.”

  “Get to the point,” I say, as a buzz fills the air. Hyperion is about to let loose.

  “It could also be filled with hydrogen, which is highly explosive, and in such quantities, would dwarf the explosive force unleashed by the creature you call Nemesis. Since you are at war with the being who sent that...thing…”

  I see where he’s going. The Aeros wouldn’t send gasbag kaiju that we could shoot out of the air without consequence. In fact, given its position over the city, that might be exactly what they hoped we would do.

  “Everyone back inside!” I shout, sprinting back through the tunnel. “Fiona, seal us up! Cowboy, get us out of here!”

  We return to the cave, everyone understanding the stakes and what we need to do to escape in one piece.

  “Hands on Bell!” Cowboy shouts. “Leaving in three, two...”

  I slap my hand against the Bell, but don’t hear Cowboy shout one. An earsplitting explosion punches through Fiona’s mountain. I see a glimmer of sunlight as the stone surrounding us disintegrates, and then we’re standing in some kind of large garage, the Bell parked dead center inside what is now two halves of a limousine. More concerned about the team than where we are, I do a quick headcount. Cowboy, Rook, Fiona, Freeman. A surge of nervous energy swirls through me when I don’t see David, but then I remember he already left.

  “Nobody move!” a gruff sounding man shouts.

  I turn to find several armed guards decked out in riot gear and holding strange looking rifles fanning out around us.

  I give Cowboy an annoyed look. “Where did you bring us?”

  “Is next step,” he says. “In alliance.”

  “We didn’t talk about this.”

  “Because you do not like him.”

  “Him who?”

  “Mr. Hudson, I was wondering when you were going to show up.” The voice belongs to Zach Cole, the overweight director of the Genetic Offense Directive (G.O.D.), who also happens to be one of the dickhead aliens that turned the human race into experts in killing and dragged us into their intergalactic civil war. Freaking Ferox. “I have to say, I’m impressed with the dramatic nature of your arrival.”

  “Hi, Bubbah,” I say with a wave and a shit-eating grin. “Oh, the Anomaly says ‘hi,’ too.”

  18

  Cole’s silence in response to my relayed message is reaction enough. He’s a master at disguising his humanity, so he’s probably capable of keeping emotions off of his face. But the silence...the silence is golden. I make a mental note to thank David, and whoever the Anomaly is, for this moment, and then I turn to Cowboy. “You’ve been a busy little bee.”

  “Fly on wall.” Cowboy pats the Bell, revealing he’s been using its ability to exist between dimensions, where things like walls and state-of-the-art, alien security systems have no effect, to spy on Cole and his Ferox brethren. I can’t fault him for doing it, but I’m a little miffed he didn’t clue me in. Then again, I’m not really his superior. None of the people from other dimensions really answer to me.

  Cole straightens his suit jacket, which combined with his girth, makes him look like a spaghetti-slurping mobster named Fat Tony or Pudgy Patrone. “Who are your friends?”

  I have to admit, it’s nice to see Cole caught off guard. At the same time, I kind of wish he wasn’t. His lack of preparation doesn’t exactly boost my confidence in the Ferox’s ability to defend this Earth or all the others.

  “You first, Chubby Calzone,” Rook says, pronouncing calzone as cal-zone-ee.

  “Nice,” I say, and then I motion to Cole. “Remember the alien race I told you about? The ones that screwed over the human race and turned us into a warlike culture so we’d help them kill even worse aliens?”

  “The Ferox,” Freeman says, looking Cole up and down before gasping. “This man is not human.” A statement. Not a question.

  “Nor are you,” Cole responds.

  “I am human, evolved.”

  “You’re from the future,” Cole guesses.

  “A future not yet reached by the Aeros,” Freeman says, though I doubt Cole needs the explanation.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve seen a lot of bad dudes in my time, and more monsters than Gene Simmons has strains of oral herpes.” Rook hitched a thumb at Cole. “This guy couldn’t scare a—”

  A loud slurping sound, combined with the slick popping of dislocating joints silences Rook. Cole’s body shifts into something resembling an amorphous, gray blob, and then snaps back together again. His clothing—which never was actually clothing—becomes taut skin, stretched over expanding muscles. His slicked-back hair lengthens and sprouts down his growing back. On all fours now, Cole’s face distorts and stretches, revealing six red eyes and a fang-filled mouth. Bones sprout from his cheeks and forehead. A long tail snaps out, tipped with a tuft of hair that might look cute on a freshly shorn pooch, but it just adds to Cole’s hideous new appearance.

  “Okay,” Rook says, though he still doesn’t really sound surprised or afraid. “I stand corrected.” He leans forward, squinting as he examines Cole’s new form. “Still, I’ve seen worse.”

  “I do not like your new friends,” Cole says, his voice now deep and growly.

  “Wait, does that mean you like me?” I ask. “Awwww.”

  Cole’s lips curl back in a snarl.

  “Well, not liking you is pretty much a prerequisite for people I bring on board, so, suck it.” I point a finger between Cowboy and Ferox-Cole. “Now would one of you like to tell me what we’re doing here?”

  I’m looking at Cowboy when Cole transforms again, the slurping and popping making me wince. I wait until he’s done before turning around. My jaw clenches when I see his new form: Maggie Alessi.

  The real Maggie Alessi was Katsu Endo’s half-sister. They reunited a few years back, and for a time, Alessi took over operation of Zoomb, and helped the FC-P deal with a few Nemesis-related crises. She also became my friend and someone upon whom I could depend. What I didn’t know was that all that time, the real Maggie Alessi was dead. Had been for a long time. And the Alessi I knew, and who Endo adored as his only living relative, was in fact one of a trio of Ferox impersonating her. And one of those three assholes, who allowed me to trust and confide in them, was Zachary Cole, or whatever the hell his real name is. Cole taking her form now is rage bait, pure and simple. As much as the Ferox want humanity’s help, they also have a penchant for being serious S.O.B.s. Nothing comes easy. So I keep my temper in check, even when he perfectly mimics her voice and ma
nnerisms, which I now know might not have ever been her actual voice and mannerisms.

  “You want to see what we’ve been up to, boss?” Alessi-Cole says.

  “Why not?” I respond, and then I wave my hands at the weapon-wielding guards who haven’t flinched, not even when Cole transformed, which means they’re probably all Ferox, too. “But before we do, what’s your name? Your real name? My internal monologue gets muddled when you shapeshift.”

  He-she-it grins, and I see a bit of Ferox in the teeth. “Mephos.”

  “Mephos,” I say. “Perfect. And for the record, I’m calling you an ‘it’.”

  “Mephos?” Fiona asks. “Any relation to—”

  “Mephistopheles, yes,” Mephos says, clasping its hands behind its back and striding away. “I am he upon whom the legend is based. Not all devils are supernatural.”

  “I’m aware,” Fiona says, giving me a look that asks, ‘what have you dragged us into?’

  Rather than reply with a glower of my own, I start after Mephos, ignoring the stern looks of his guards.

  “I will remain with Bell,” Cowboy says. He’s got his hand on the smooth metal. With a thought, he could whisk himself to any part of this, or any other world. “Just in case.”

  Reading between the lines, while Cowboy knew Mephos had something cooking here, something that could potentially help us, he’s as unsure as I am about whether or not that’s a good or bad thing. Cowboy staying behind means we have a quick out if we need it. So I’m not exactly pleased when two of the guards stay behind as well.

  We move from the large garage and into a long downward sloping hallway. The hall switchbacks a few times, descending steadily beneath the ground, assuming we started above ground, or near it. “You know there is such a thing as an elevator.”

  Mephos ignores the taunt and continues down.

  “Smells like a wet turd,” Rook says, sniffing the air. He isn’t wrong. Whatever Mephos is leading us toward, it’s something alive. Knowing him, it’s something that looks as bad as it smells.