Ure Infectus (Imperium Cicernus Book 4)

by Caleb Wachter

  “I think so,” Masozi replied as she drew a steadying breath. “Unlock the door whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’m on it,” Eve said confidently, and just a few seconds later she said, “opening in three…two…one…open.”

  The door’s mag-locks disengaged and the large, metal door swung slowly open. Masozi stood by the doorjamb until the opening was wide enough for her to slip through. But just as she did so, a series of alarms went off in her helmet’s display.

  “Close the door!” Eve shouted, and Masozi did as she was instructed.

  The mag-locks re-engaged and Masozi snapped, “What is it?”

  “Stand by,” Eve replied, and Masozi’s left leg suddenly went numb. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’re going to feel a pinch—“

  Masozi’s neck erupted in a fiery sensation on both sides, and soon her wrists felt the same, burning pain which quickly began to spread throughout her body.

  “Eve, what are you—“ Masozi began, but her words caught when the pain in her torso intensified so greatly that she actually feared her lungs had just burst.

  “Hang on, sugar,” Eve said grimly, “just hang on…”

  Masozi’s vision began to black out, and her thoughts turned sluggish and dull as she focused on the icons displayed inside her helmet. They were so beautiful, and Masozi wondered why she hadn’t stopped to admire such simple, marvelous things more often in her life.

  “Stay with me, girl!” Eve snapped, and Masozi felt a dull, throbbing pain radiate up from her left leg as the sexbot’s digital voice pierced the sudden haze which had come over her thoughts. “You hear me—stay with me!”

  “I’m sooo….tired…” Masozi said, her eyelids drooping. In spite of the riotous pain she felt throughout her body, all she wanted to do was sleep.

  “Not so fast, girlfriend,” Eve quipped, and Masozi felt her vision began to narrow as the pain in her left leg intensified. “There we go…now listen to my words, Masozi, and repeat them back to me.”

  “Fine,” Masozi said dreamily. The pain in her torso had abated, but her left leg felt like it was being bathed in frozen acid. Still, it was odd that she didn’t seem to mind it too much.

  “There’s a nerve agent in the air…say it!” Eve prompted.

  “There’s a nerve agent in the air,” Masozi said before groaning and remembering a similar phrase she had been forced to learn in primary linguistics, “will this be on the test later?”

  “Can it, sweet cheeks,” Even snapped irritably, “say ‘my leg was exposed to the nerve agent’.”

  “My leg was exposed to the…” Masozi trailed off as the gravity of what Eve was telling her sank in. “What happened?!” she blurted, her senses snapping into focus all at once.

  “Good, the drugs are finally working,” Eve said tightly, “but we don’t have more than eight minutes’ worth of air in this thing. We need to get to street level—fast. Can you run?”

  Masozi tried to stand and test her leg, but while the right one was fine her left felt like it weight a hundred pounds and didn’t respond to her commands at all.

  “Damn,” Even growled, “your left leg’s already useless. I can move the suit’s left leg for you, but we’re going to have to be in sync so we won’t be able to get to a full run. Try to stand, quickly; we’re running out of time.”

  Masozi did as she was instructed and found that, while she was unsteady, she was able to keep her balance. She took a step forward with her right leg and Eve soon followed with a clunky, haphazard attempt of her own with the suit’s left leg motivators.

  “Brace against the wall,” Eve instructed, “and let’s open this door so we can make like a prokaryote and split. We’ll work on our pacing as we make our way to the nearby access lift here.”

  The helmet’s display showed a clear path to what looked like the lift the amorous couple had inadvertently used to lure the first guard from his post.

  “Got it,” Masozi said, the pain in her leg coming and going at irregular intervals. She waved her arm in front of the door’s control panel and it swung open.

  As she clung to the wall and exited the room, Masozi saw several dozen bodies littering the floor. They were all in various, grotesque reposes with their fingers curled into tight, gnarled, claw-like positions. Some of the larger ones actually looked to have broken their own backs—an eventuality Masozi had become familiar with during disaster training back in New Lincoln.

  “Why?” Masozi breathed. “Why would they kill all of these people?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Eve replied solemnly. “This was just a slaughter…I don’t understand it.”

  Masozi tried to push the horrifying imagery from her mind as she leaned against the wall for support, skirting the bodies as best she was able while she and Eve worked to improve their coordination. After a few dozen steps, Masozi thought she could quicken the pace to a brisk walk.

  “I’m getting a transmission fragment,” Eve said quickly, “I’m working to clean up our reception—whatever you do, don’t stop moving.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Masozi said through gritted teeth as she slapped the button beside the lift which would summon it to their location.

  “Eve, what’s your status?” Jericho demanded.

  “I’m trying to link up with my other half,” Eve replied tersely. “This isn’t as easy as I make it look, Jericho!”

  “Never mind the backtalk,” Jericho growled. “Get Masozi on the line now; we can wait for your reunion.”

  “I’m trying,” Eve shot back before finally saying, “I’ve got an audio feed established.”

  “Investigator?” Jericho asked anxiously. “Investigator, if you can read me you need to get to the surface as quickly as you can. There’s a bioweapon about to be deployed and you’re right in the middle of the introduction zone. Do you copy?”

  The headset’s speakers crackled with static and he shot a dire look at the console featuring Eve’s virtual avatar. Then he heard a voice that sounded like Masozi’s on the other end, and he listened intently as her voice became clearer, “—a lift now. Nerve toxin in air…dead. Repeat: everyone is d…”

  The signal cut out and Jericho growled, “Get it back, Eve.”

  “I won’t even try to explain how I’m doing what I’m doing, Jericho,” Eve snapped, “but you’re already getting the best I can give.”

  The speaker crackled back to life and Jericho listened intently as Masozi’s voice returned. “…exiting the lift now. Only have six minutes of air left before—”

  The signal cut out as the speakers crackled loudly. “We’re being jammed, Jericho,” Eve said with absolute conviction. “Someone is remotely operating enough gear down there that they just blanketed our frequencies. That was my last trick; we have to wait until we’ve got line of sight now.”

  “She’s in the Keno Coliseum,” Jericho said urgently, “have her wait in the middle of the domed coliseum. We can land the Tyson in the middle and it will cut down on her travel time—how long until we arrive?” Eve shook her head silently, and Jericho leaned down next to the display and yelled, “How long?!”

  “Twenty three minutes—I’ve already taken the safety protocols offline,” she added with a meaningful look. “This shuttle is going as fast as it can, Jericho. I’ve already sent a data packet with your suggested extraction plan. But I can’t confirm if my other half got it. If she did, there’s a chance we can revive Masozi…if not,” she said, turning her virtual eyes to the floor.

  Jericho leaned back in his chair and looked over at the medic, who had several minutes earlier managed to finish dressing his arm. “Let’s hope you get another patient today,” Jericho said, knowing that everything which could have been done had been.

  He didn’t want to lose her…it would be a disaster in too many ways to count.

  “Come on,” he whispered under his breath, silently willing the craft toward its destination. “Hang on, Masozi.”

 
; Chapter XXIX: Bathed in Fire

  “We’ve lost our link,” Eve said after they had exited the lift, “it seems like we’re being jammed locally. Someone doesn’t want any communications leaving this city.”

  “I wonder why,” Masozi growled as she fought her way to the nearest junction. There were hundreds of bodies lying in similar states as the ones outside Governor Keno’s dressing room, but Masozi knew she didn’t have time to mourn them just yet.

  “Wait a moment,” Eve said as Masozi made her way toward the exit Eve had previously highlighted. “Change of plans, babe,” she said, and Masozi’s exit path shifted until it was redirected to the heart of the coliseum, “this destination gives us the highest survival chance.”

  “But that’s inside the coliseum,” Masozi argued.

  “No time to explain, honey,” Eve quipped, “if you want to live then you’ll follow the route.”

  Masozi growled wordlessly as the pain in her leg shot up and seemingly through her body, causing her to twist in a violent, uncontrolled spasm.

  “Hang on, girl,” Eve said quickly, and the pain abated along with the spasm, “I’m trying to ration our drugs; we’ve only got a limited supply.”

  “You’re doing great, Eve,” Masozi said, actually believing it as she hauled herself along the wall toward the coliseum’s nearest entry arch. She stepped inside and, although she fought through the waves of emotion, she was brought to tears at the sight which greeted her eyes.

  Literally thousands of people, of all ages and walks of life, lay dead within the coliseum. Many of them were still in their seats, and the magnitude of the crime which had been committed against the people of Philippa—no, against humanity itself—was literally beyond her ability to comprehend.

  She tore her gaze from the epic tragedy which had unfolded around her and made her way to the stage at the dome’s center—a stage where the people had only minutes earlier been celebrating their beloved Governor.

  “Stay over here,” Eve urged. “And sit down, girl…this next part’s going to get rough.”

  “What do you mean?” Masozi asked as she slowly lowered herself to the ground behind a heavy, metal framework of scaffolding.

  “I only got a partial data packet,” Eve explained as the pressure around Masozi’s left leg intensified, but this time she was fairly certain that it had been caused by the suit rather than the neurotoxins coursing through her system, “but Jericho’s on his way with the shuttle and our best chance is to wait for them here. Still…they’re nineteen minutes away and we’ve only got another three minutes of breathable air in this thing.”

  “So lower the oxygen content,” Masozi said quickly as she fought to control her breathing in the face of Eve’s revelation.

  “Already on it,” Eve assured her, “but that’s not where the trouble ends…I need your permission to cut off blood flow to both of your legs and your arms.”

  “Twenty minutes without blood flow…” Masozi thought, remembering what she had learned about tissue perfusion during her first aid training, “that’s right on the edge, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Eve agreed gravely, “but it’s the only way to give you a reasonable chance to survive. If we make it back to the Zhuge Liang they might be able to counteract the damage…”

  “Do it,” Masozi said quickly, knowing that each second that passed without a decision decreased her apparently slim chance at survival.

  “You got it,” Eve said, and all four of Masozi’s limbs felt like they were being crushed by the suit’s pressure cuffs—or whatever it used in situations like this. “I’m sorry about the pain, girlfriend,” Eve said heavily, “but I’m giving you a sedative so you won’t panic as your oxygen levels diminish.”

  “Thank you, Eve,” Masozi said, instantly regretful of the many times she had derided the quasi-intelligent program.

  “Don’t mention it, sweetie,” Eve replied. “Just try to relax and I’ll manage your biorhythms the best I can while we wait for the others. It helps the process if you count backward from one hundred.”

  “One hundred, ninety nine, ninet…” Masozi trailed off as her world spiraled into darkness.

  “One minute to touchdown,” Eve reported as Jericho and the medic worked to get their containment suits checked out.

  “You’re cleared, sir,” the medic reported after checking Jericho’s back-side seals. The medic then turned around and Jericho inspected his suit’s seals.

  After he was satisfied, Jericho nodded, “You’re clear.” Jericho then turned and leaned into the cockpit as the Neil deGrasse Tyson slewed around the coliseum while braking its momentum as much as it could, “Make a hole, Eve.”

  “With pleasure,” she replied and the Tyson’s light cannons tore into the flimsy, ceramic panels which comprised the coliseum’s dome. Those panels shattered in an ever-widening spiral as Eve piloted the craft down, lifting the nose at the last instant before the shuttle crashed through the roof panels and sent several thousand of the meter-square pieces crashing into the stage below.

  “I’ve got her,” Eve said as she settled the Tyson down near one of the main stairwells, “Eve’s reporting Masozi’s life signs are faint. She’s been out of oxygen for three minutes.”

  “Move!” Jericho snapped as the door swung open, and before the Tyson had even touched down both the medic and Jericho were already on the floor of the facility and sprinting toward Masozi.

  They knelt one to either side of her armored, motionless form, and they each wrapped an armored arm around their necks and Jericho struggled mightily with the use of only one hand, but they managed to get her upright and hauled her back to the shuttle.

  After nearly forty seconds the door to the Tyson closed behind them, and Jericho snapped, “Initiate atmospheric purge, Eve.”

  “Already on it,” she replied as the Neil deGrasse Tyson pulled up and began its ascent out of Keno Coliseum. Several tense seconds passed as the gases inside the craft were vented, during which time the suits which Jericho and the medic wore ballooned out. “Atmosphere purged; introducing purifying agents now,” Eve reported, and after a few more seconds the pressure inside the cabin began to climb, “no contaminants detected, Jericho. The air is clean.”

  Jericho and the medic tore their bulky, obtrusive helmets off and as they did so Masozi’s armor began to unlock at several dozen points before opening to reveal the woman within.

  Her left leg was swollen and had a large gash to the outside of her thigh, and the skin of her fingertips had already begun to turn purplish-black.

  Before Jericho could even press him to do so, the medic began administering a series of injections directly into Masozi’s heart. “What can I do?” he asked, having already gone over the potential procedures but finding himself impatient for the medic’s diagnosis. The treatments ranged from manipulating her limbs to improve blood flow, to essentially doing nothing if her brain had already been oxygen-starved for too long.

  “Wait,” the medic replied tersely.

  Jericho was about to protest, but the man gave him a cold, flinty look.

  “I said ‘wait’,” he growled as he continued to administer the medications. After the sixth injection, he took out a portable defibrillator and began to calibrate it before gesturing to Masozi’s torso, “Remove her clothing; I need exposed skin.”

  Jericho reached down with his remaining hand before realizing he needed something else to manipulate the garment. He leaned down and bit the collar of the bodyglove between his teeth and unzipped her one-piece jumpsuit until her bare torso was exposed.

  The medic wasted no time applying the leads to several points across her chest, and when he had done so Masozi’s body twitched just enough to notice. The medic examined the readout and pressed the activation icon again, causing Masozi’s body to twitch even more.

  Jericho felt helpless in that moment so he sat back against the bench where he had ‘hidden’ the nuclear bomb Masozi had ‘discovered.’ He knew that in his curren
t state he would be less than helpful, and was actually relieved to hear Eve say, “Jericho, I need you to get up here. We’ve got a problem.”

  Jericho stood and climbed into the cockpit. “What is it?” he asked as he checked the various instruments.

  “Engine Two is down,” she replied. “We can still break orbit, but that’s not the problem.” A nearby console’s display switched over to show a huge warship on an apparent approach vector. “It’s the Alexander,” she reported grimly. “They’ve jammed our communications with the Zhuge Liang; I’m still on course for our rendezvous coordinates but we’re going to be late given our engine trouble.”

  Jericho knew the Alexander by reputation, since it was the only Battle Carrier ever commissioned in the Virgin System. It was the unquestioned flagship of Virgin’s SDF, and the pride and joy of the System’s entire military. It served not only as a mobile battle platform of unparalleled power, but as the Virgin Central Military’s headquarters and base of operations.

  Seeing the massive vessel bearing down on them with what looked to be several dozen fighters—a mere fraction of its maximum complement—flanking it in formation, Jericho couldn’t help but feel a twinge of good, old-fashioned, terror as the awesome engine of war bore down on them.

  “Time to weapons range?” Jericho asked levelly.

  “At most, two minutes before we make rendezvous,” Even replied matter-of-factly. “I might be able to speed things up but I don’t have the runtimes necessary to fly the ship and fix the engine at the same time.”

  “Why don’t you recombine with the other Eve?” Jericho pressed as he strapped himself into the chair. Even one-handed, he was fairly confident he could fly the little shuttle passably enough to get them where they were going—so long as it didn’t turn into a dogfight with one of those fighters.

  “I can’t do that,” she replied as she began to relinquish control over the Tyson’s systems to Jericho’s station, “Benton hard-coded some control measures into my program before sending me out with you. He says separating my program was risky enough and that he would have to oversee the recombination personally.”