Freeman takes a long drag through his nose. “Sulphur, ammonia, methane. You’re right, Rook. It’s nasty.”
“Can you even tell the difference between nasty and not?” Rook asks.
Freeman rolls his eyes. “Despite what you all might think, I am human.”
“But not just human,” Fiona asks. “You’re part machine.”
“I am more than both,” he says. “And both simultaneously.”
“A human-machine chimera?” I guess.
He shakes his head. “There is no separation between what you would consider human and machine.”
I catch Mephos looking back at Freeman with something like hunger in his eyes. If Freeman is an evolved form of human, as he claims, I’m sure the Ferox would love to take him apart. Try to replicate what makes him special. But I’ve seen what he’s capable of, and he still has that railgun slung over his shoulder. I’d kind of like to see them try...after we save the multiverse.
A pair of doors slide open at Mephos’s approach. I follow him through and only make it a few steps before staggering to a stop. The space on the far side of the door is a massive cavern, thousands of feet across, and hundreds deep. I can’t see the bottom, but I don’t need to. I’m familiar with the size of the creatures it contains. And I’m standing at chin level.
While the smaller of the five creatures stand on raised platforms, the largest of them stands at full height. Their names are easy for me to remember, as I’m the one who named them. “Scrion...” I whisper, looking down the line of kaiju faces that are both distinct from Nemesis Prime—their mother—and similar to her. “Drakon...Scylla...Typhon...Karkinos...” I look at Mephos. “You cloned them again?”
“It’s not a difficult thing,” Mephos says. “They grow quickly, and as you can see, we have the right staff for the job.”
I scan the laboratory, constructed on the precipice of a cavern ledge. It’s beyond high tech. Probably alien, which, let’s face it, is to be expected at this point. But beyond all the weird computer systems, genetics equipment and futuristic gear, it’s the people wearing lab coats I notice. Like the kaiju, they’re clones.
“Alicio Brice,” I say, and several of the men turn at the sound of my voice.
They look us over, find nothing of note, and go right back to work. I’ve met a few incarnations of Brice. He was one of the lead scientists at Island 731, the hellish genetics lab started by Japan’s World War II R&D operation, Unit 731. From that lab’s horrific creations came the far less horrific Lilly, and the far more horrific, rapidly reproducing monstrosity called the Tsuchi, or more colorfully, the B.F.S.: Big Fucking Spider. But they aren’t just spiders. They’re protected by spiked snapping turtle shells, and they insert their fast growing spawn into living things using scorpion-like tails, injecting their young into what becomes their first meal. With enough people, or whatever living thing is handy, a single Tsuchi can become an army in minutes. Because of Brice, the world was very nearly overrun by them, not to mention the kaiju-sized mega-tsuchi spawned when Nemesis was stung by one. From what I understand, only one Brice had a conscience, and Cole, back when he was just Cole and not Alessi or Mephos, killed the man. Cole uttered a single word, triggering a genetic breakdown that all but melted the Brice from the inside out.
“They are...alive,” Freeman says. “I believe the scent lingering in the air is their breath.”
“Alive,” Mephos says. “Yes. But don’t worry, they’re not dangerous.”
“I wasn’t,” Freeman says. “Worrying, I mean. But you’re also wrong. They are dangerous, or you wouldn’t have bothered creating them during a time of war.”
“He’s got a point,” Rook says, stepping further into the lab, eyeing each of the kaiju alongside Fiona. I can tell they’re impressed, but they’re taking it all in with the calm, keen eyes of people who deal with crazy things for a living.
“They’re not dangerous to us,” Mephos says. “Before they grew large enough to pose a threat, we essentially lobotomized them. While they are alive, they have no higher brain function.”
“Didn’t you try this already? Against Lovecraft and Giger? I seem to recall your clones getting torn apart.”
Mephos nods. “We deployed the clones without Voices.”
“So they couldn’t talk?” Freeman asks.
“Voices are like pilots,” I say. “But for Gestorumque and Machintorum. Kaiju and big robots.”
“Like Hyperion,” Freeman says.
I snap my fingers and point at him. “Bingo.”
He snaps his fingers and points back at me, watching his hands with the curiosity of someone who has never seen or performed the gesture before.
“So this time you’re going to have Voices controlling them?” I ask the Ferox.
Mephos grins, and I’m starting to wish he’d take off Alessi’s face. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” It heads deeper into the lab. “For you newcomers, I’ll let my lead scientist explain how it works.” Mephos leans around a tall cylindrical device, its purpose I can only guess at. “Richard, please explain the human-Voice interface to our guests.”
A tall man steps out from behind the device. Though he’s wearing a lab coat, he’s not one of the Brices. He’s far taller, bald and speaks with a calm, but baritone voice that makes me wonder if he’s Ferox.
While my reaction to the man is curiosity, Rook’s and Fiona’s is blatant hostility. Without a word shared between them, both spring into action. Rook draws the Girls from their holsters, taking aim and pulling the triggers again and again. The only thing keeping this Richard guy from decorating the lab with his guts is the fact that Rook is still out of ammo. The weapons click uselessly.
Fiona, on the other hand, is still lethal. While the floor wraps itself around Richard’s feet, rooting him in place, a collection of lab equipment springs to life, crushing and coiling to form a ten foot tall metal golem. When the newly birthed creature lifts its stubby, but solid arm, to crush Richard, I shout, “Stop!”
The golem’s strike hovers in place.
“Stand down,” I say.
“This is Richard Ridley,” Rook says, drawing a knife from its sheath on his belt.
I stand between Rook and this man I’ve never met, but who is apparently capable of great evil. “Whoever he was on your Earth, he might not be the same person on ours.”
“Your father,” Fiona says to Richard. “How did he die?”
“My f-father?”
“Tell me!”
This is the first time I’ve really seen Fiona angry. Whatever Ridley did to them, it must have affected her profoundly, and personally.
“My father is still alive. I think.” Richard looks at Mephos. “Right?”
Mephos looks befuddled and just shrugs. “I don’t keep track of the man.”
The newly formed golem comes apart, falling into its various bent and ruined parts. Richard’s feet are freed.
Rook lets out a long and labored breath, sheathing his knife. “Sweaty Aunt Petunia, you’re lucky the Girls weren’t loaded.” His words echo through the open chamber.
My mouth drops open in shock. I turn to Mephos and point at Rook. “You see? I told you!”
Rook raises his palms. “What? What did I do?”
Before I can answer, agonized screams rise up from the lab, echoing through the cavern with the volume of Nemesis’s roar.
19
MAIGO
White dust churned in the breeze, floating through the air where Tucson had once stood. It blanketed the air like a dry fog, blocking Maigo’s view when she raised Hyperion’s head for a look. Seconds before the GUS exploded, the mighty robot had turned away, dropped to a knee and lowered its head, taking up a defensive posture.
Ouch, said Hyperion’s AI.
“Ouch?” Maigo replied. “Since when do you express pain? How about a damage report?”
It seemed an appropriate expression of the cosmetic damage sustained, Hyperion said. Had I suffered internal damages, I believe the
appropriate expression would have been, ‘dammit,’ or ‘shit.’
“Oookay.” Maigo felt her patience wearing thin. While people were chatty, Hyperion was efficient. And when a city disappeared and an alien kaiju exploded in the atmosphere, leaving them blinded and vulnerable, talking about the appropriate response to pain—which robots didn’t feel—was a severe waste of time. Something which, again, Hyperion was not known for. “Why can’t we see?”
Analyzing...
“Dad?” Maigo said with her voice rather than her mind. “Are you there? Did you guys get away?”
For a moment, all she heard was static. Then a voice. “Having trouble reading you... Interference... Glass refracting signal.”
The voice belonged to Cooper, speaking to her from the Mountain.
There was a burst of static, then the background noise cleared.
Signal boosted, the AI said, followed by a, You’re welcome, which might have contained a trace of sarcasm.
“Status report?” Cooper said.
“Hyperion is fine,” Maigo said. “Minimal damage. I don’t know about anyone else. Hard to see. I can’t reach Da...Hudson.”
“He was there?” Cooper sounded surprised.
“With friends,” Maigo said, recalling the mountain that had sprung up out of nowhere. She knew her father and Cowboy were looking for powerful help, but the sudden appearance of a mountain was strange—even to her, the girl sitting in an alien Machintorum. “But I can’t reach him on the comm.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Cooper said. “We’ve got other problems.”
Of course we do... Maigo thought.
“I’ll explain when you return.”
“What about Nemesis?” Maigo asked.
“If she survived that explosion...bring her with you.”
Maigo knew that they had prepared for the possibility of containing Nemesis, but she didn’t look forward to the attempt. The list of things that could go wrong stretched to the sun and back. But circumstances being what they were, it was probably one of the smaller risks she’d be taking in the next twenty-four hours. “Copy that.”
There was a click and Cooper was gone. Maigo could reconnect with a thought, but she focused instead on another connection. She might not be able to reach Hudson through the comm, but that didn’t mean he was dead. She closed her eyes and focused beyond the confines of Hyperion’s hull. Even if she didn’t find him, she knew he might simply be in another dimension, beyond her psychic reach. But then, there he was. Alive, and annoyed. But his thoughts were indistinct. Distant. But alive, and that was enough for now.
While Hyperion did its thing, sensing the world around them and interpreting the data faster than she could, Maigo took physical control of the robot, rising up out of their Tim Tebow pose and looking around. The world had turned milky white, but it wasn’t fluid. She could feel the tiny flecks tapping against the hull.
Glass dust, Hyperion finally said. Pulverized by the second explosion’s concussive force.
“Let’s check the spectrums,” Maigo said.
Spectrum check already in progress.
“Uhh, great, let me see.” Maigo’s view of the outside world shifted from visible light to infrared. The white dust disappeared and the ground around them appeared as a brilliant orange. The landscape was covered in large red lumps that Maigo had no trouble identifying as the GUS’s steaming remains. Waves of yellow heat rose from the exposed desert, dissipating into the cool blue sky. The only aberration in what looked like a surrealist’s attempt at modern art, was a purple lump at the middle of it all.
Nemesis, Hyperion said, actually sounding worried.
Maigo stalked forward, concerned about the big monster she’d once been a part of, but not careless enough to startle the Goddess of Vengeance. She had just taken a point blank nuclear-scale blast.
As Maigo got within a few hundred feet, just outside the range of Nemesis’s trident-tipped tail strike, she activated Hyperion’s external speakers and said, “Uh, Nemesis? Endo? Still alive?”
Heartbeat detected, Hyperion said, and Maigo’s vision shifted to show the rhythmic soundwaves pulsing out from Nemesis’s core. Nemesis’s purple form cracked, revealing streaks of orange light. Chunks began falling away.
“She was scorched,” Maigo said.
Affirmative, Hyperion said. I believe she is shedding her dermal layer.
Nemesis could shed her skin, revealing her final form, which some people called ‘divine’ and ‘angelic’. Everyone knew that. What most people didn’t know was that Nemesis’s skin was actually a kind of thick, spongey fungus that could handle massive amount of damage and regrow, protecting Nemesis’s more fragile final form. The shedding that was happening now wasn’t thick enough to be a true skin-shedding. It was just the outer layers of fungal skin that had been burned by the twin explosions.
Maigo took a long step back.
The cracks covering Nemesis’s body continued to spread. And then, when the mighty creature flexed her body, the crust shattered and fell away. Nemesis sprang up, roaring. She opened her arms wide, ready for a fight. She spun back and forth, whipping her tail.
When she found no enemy above her, Nemesis calmed, but then she noticed Hyperion. The kaiju leaned forward and bellowed an angry roar.
“Prepare to jump,” Maigo told the AI, and she felt the power shift from the weapons to the teleportation system.
Power is at full, the AI said, but with the words came a surge of nervous energy.
Is that me? Maigo wondered, or Hyperion?
I do not know, the AI replied. Maigo sometimes forgot that the AI was fully connected to her consciousness. It heard all her thoughts, which had never been a problem before, because she never had a reason to worry about Hyperion.
When Nemesis finished her angry roar, the monster seemed to relax. She stood up straight, but her tail continued sweeping back and forth like she was an agitated cat.
“Easy, girl,” Maigo said, reaching out with Hyperion’s big hands. “We’re still friends.”
The tail sweeping slowed.
“Can I take you someplace?” Maigo asked. “To the FC-P? To see Jon?”
While Nemesis had never really been verbally reasoned with before, Maigo knew that Endo was now part of the whole, and he had communicated with her. So if he’s in there, she thought, he knows what I’m asking, and that he can trust me. “We have a place where you can heal.”
Nemesis took a step forward, and then another, each one a little less hesitant than the previous, as though the voice of Endo was spurring her on. Maigo keenly remembered the chaotic fire that was Nemesis’s consciousness. Making a logical decision like this would be as foreign to her as Hudson wearing a bow tie.
When the kaiju finally stood before Hyperion, she lowered her head in submission. And that simple act brought tears to Maigo’s eyes. While Maigo had been freed from Nemesis’s rage by being physically separated from her, the monster had been freed by Endo’s merging with her. The monster had evolved. Just like me, Maigo thought, feeling hopeful that the monster inside her would continue to fade away.
Hyperion slowly reached out, placing his big hands on Nemesis’s shoulders, these two ancient enemies now allies. Then, in a wink, they left the carnage behind and reappeared thousands of miles away, deep beneath a mountain in New Hampshire.
Seconds after arriving, Hyperion teleported one more time, moving just a few hundred feet away. The second jump drained most of the robot’s power, but Maigo could see Nemesis, floating in a pressurized tank large enough to hold the beast and simulate conditions at the ocean’s bottom. It had been Maigo’s idea. Not only would the conditions allow Nemesis to heal more rapidly, but they would also calm her. And since the kaiju wasn’t thrashing about, Maigo knew she’d been correct. She smiled as Nemesis curled into a fetal position, her skin already regenerating.
Detecting incursions of multiple G.U.S. kaiju around the world, Hyperion said. The alien robot could tune into signals acr
oss the planet, slipping past firewalls and deciphering encryptions with ease. It could see the Earth as a whole, from every cell phone, satellite feed or CCTV camera.
Preparing to jump.
“What?” Maigo said. “No. Stop!”
They must be defeated. The AI sounded urgent.
The information Hyperion had gathered was as available to Maigo, as her thoughts were to the AI. “There are too many. Way too many for us to handle. And we don’t have a way to bring them down without destroying the cities they’re above. The hell is wrong with you? Analyze the situation. Use your goddamn unfailing logic.”
I am...trying, the AI said, sounding tense.
Maigo could actually feel the AI straining to focus. Then the calculations began. Logic came with the returning numbers.
You are correct.
“Maigo.” The voice of Watson was clear in her comm. “Glad you made it back, and with company. Can’t believe that worked. So, anyway, Coop wants a debrief and rebrief and whatever kind of brief we can add on top of that, in the Situation Room. ASAP. Things are about to get messy.”
“Tell me about it,” Maigo said. “On my way.”
Hyperion’s head opened to allow her out, while a walkway extended from a catwalk suspended high above the floor, hundreds of feet below. “Hype,” Maigo said, “run a self-diagnostic while I’m gone. Try to figure out what’s going on with your...personality.”
Self-diagnostic scheduled, the AI replied. I am as curious as you.
Maigo slipped out of the black tendrils connecting her to the machine and stepped onto the walkway.
And that’s part of the problem, she thought, knowing that Hyperion could no longer hear her thoughts, you’re not supposed to feel curiosity. Or anything else.
20
HUDSON
In seconds, dozens of Alicio Brice clones fall to the floor, writhing in agony, bleeding from a multitude of orifices. I’ve only seen this happen once before, and that was with the only version of Brice that might have been worth keeping around. I have little doubt that these versions of him were the standard variety, lacking any kind of conscience. Sociopaths and madmen all, tinkering with genetics and human experimentation. So while I’m entirely, and appropriately, disgusted by the now flatulent deaths of so many people, I don’t really feel bad for them.
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