by Evan Currie
“The Captain is a living, thinking, and thankfully, ethical, weapon of mass destruction,” She answered with no room for misinterpretation. “He’s the first we really got a chance to look at, and still the one we have the most data one… but if you want me to give you a rundown on his full capabilities, I’m sorry General… we don’t know them.”
*****
The asphalt ruptured upward, exploding chunks of road across the street as two figures blasted up and through it into the air. Most of the debris showered down around the hole they’d blown from, but the pair just kept climbing as Alex did his best to get the fight above ground level and above the city in general.
He didn’t want to be punching, or getting punched, through buildings people were currently occupying. Some casualties were going to be inevitable, and in a city like New York he was fully aware that most of those were going to be civilians, but he’d be damned if he added to it either intentionally or through simple carelessness.
The shadow he was fighting hadn’t moved since he’d struck him down in the tunnel, which he was treating as a tentatively good thing. It was possible he’d managed to knock the target out, but unfortunately Alex had no reasonable way of testing that theory in mid combat, particularly not while he was within the city limits of one of the largest metropolises in the world.
They cleared the rooftops as Alex got a one fisted grip on the shadow’s throat, disturbed by how his fingertips seemed to sink into the murkiness of the shadows… flesh? Holding him with one hand, Alex drew back and delivered a trio of powerful punches with all the force he could manage.
He paused only when he heard a roar from below him, glancing down in time to see the Ifrit launch itself into the air in his direction.
Great.
Alex cocked his head, looking around quickly, then punted the shadow up slightly as he spun and delivered a kick at better than mach one. The shadow arced off into the distance as Alex twisted in mid air just in time to catch the flaming sword with both hands, only inches from his abdomen.
The blade slid slowly along his flesh as he strained to stop it fully, blood streaming along it from his hands, sizzling and steaming from the heat. It stopped, just searing his BDUs, before Alex slowly managed to force it away. The Ifirt screamed at him, redoubling it’s attempts to push the blade up, but without the inertia of the initial strike, and now with gravity working against his efforts, Alex held his ground.
He looked up from the burning sword, the heat of it searing his skin a distant sensation, and Alex looked into the pits that were the eyes of the Ifrit and he smiled.
That put a moment of shock into his opponent, which Alex used to full effect as he kept one hand on the sword while using the other to draw his FiveseveN and unload the magazine at point blank range into the creature’s face. When it flinched back, more afraid than hurt, Alex followed up with a boot to the thing’s center of mass as he wrenched the sword upward.
Screaming and flailing the Ifrit fell away as Alex flipped the sword up, over his head, rebolstering his empty pistol before catching the sword in his dominant hand and diving back down at full acceleration.
*****
The two newsmen watched as the dark figure arced away from the city, Jack whistling in shock.
“That was one hell of a punch,” He said, “did he really just punch a guy into the East river?”
“I think he was aiming for the Atlantic,” Ray said, distractedly as he tried to keep his focus on the close in situation. “Holy!”
The two watched the flaming winged creature charge from below, only to be stopped in a flash of motion that Ray wasn’t even certain his camera caught. The brief clash of wills between the two ended in a flurry of motion and sudden rapid fire gunshots as he filmed the entire event before the Marine ripped the sword loose and sent the creature tumbling through the air before diving after it with sword in hand.
“This is insane,” Ray swore, grimacing as he watched the Marine hack at the creature with its own sword, making a bloody mess across the streets below before stabbing the blade through the things chest and leaving it spiked to a wrecked car on the debris strewn street.
“This is gold!” Jack said beside him, elated. “Tell me you got all that!”
“I think I got all that,” Ray said, “but we won’t know until we check it. They were moving awfully fast. I don’t even know if my camera could catch some of those motions, you’d probably need a slow-mo rig to get it all.”
That brought the reporter down a little, at least, unlike being exposed to near certain doom.
“Damn? Really?” Jack whined.
“I don’t know, we’ll find out when we review the footage.” Ray said, confident that he’d gotten enough, and broadcast more than enough, to keep the station happy if nothing else.
Might even get a budget for a new camera.
“Hey Sir?”
The two turned to where the pilot was leaning over.
“What is it?”
The pilot pointed to a military Blackhawk and two NYPD choppers circling around them from the rear, angry men hanging out the open sides of each, gesturing wildly at them.
“I think we’re done up here, boss.” The pilot said simply.
“Well… crap,” Jack sighed. “Alright, do what they say.”
The pilot didn’t bother mentioning that he’d already been doing just that.
He wasn’t paid enough to defy the cops, let alone the military.
*****
Chapter 3
US SOCOM Bunker, Virgina
“Anything?” Isaacs asked intently.
“No sir, not a peep,” a technician said, shaking his head.
“Damn it,” The General swore, hand slamming into the desktop he was leaning over, making the man he was speaking with flinch. “They have to be out there somewhere. What about Echelon? Anything, anywhere?”
The man shook his head, “Not a thing sir. We’re scanning worldwide, but there’s no sign of the interference.”
Pierson approached them, “Scouting for the UFO?”
Isaacs nodded, “There’s been no sign of it in person since Hong Kong, but I refuse to believe that it’s either given up, or has nothing to do with any of this. We monitored the interference at each of the sites were people went missing, and then again briefly in each city that the changed have appeared in. Whatever it is, whoever is behind it, there’s no question that it wants something from us. It isn’t done yet.”
Pierson nodded, “Given its actions, it would appear that it wants to start a global conflict, though to what end I’m not sure I can fathom.”
“You don’t think it might just be trying to destroy us?” The Admiral asked.
Pierson shook her head, “This won’t destroy us. At worst, it might devastate our culture, driving our infrastructure to ruins and setting us back a few decades, but… honestly? That might actually speed up our development.”
“Really?” Isaacs asked, “most of my advisors are more pessimistic.”
“Our infrastructure is crap,” Pierson said flatly. “We’re still using lead pipes to transport water, some of them over a century old. The power grid is stupidly vulnerable to attack, and the less said about transport the better. Politically, repairing and maintaining those systems just isn’t a priority because voters don’t actually seem to care about infrastructure. This sort of mass chaos might just wipe out enough of the old world that’s been holding us back, to allow for real improvements to be made.”
“You make it sound like we should be thanking whatever caused this,” Isaacs said skeptically.
“Maybe we should,” Pierson said, “over it’s dead or dying corpse. Don’t misunderstand me, just because I can see the positives that might come from this doesn’t mean that I’m blind to the pain and death we’re going to walk through to get to them. Hitler was such a scumbag that assholes halfway across the planet took the pillowcases off their heads and said ‘we arent with that guy’, but as positive as t
hat outcome might have been, I wouldn’t trade it for the seventeen million civilian lives lost to the holocaust.”
Isaacs nodded understandingly, “Agreed. Which is why we want this thing in our sights, sooner than later.”
Pierson nodded, though she held back the thought that plagued her.
The worry she had, that it might be too late. The changes were already made, and the course they were on was set. Even if they managed to find, and destroy, something that had so far eluded their every attempt to do those things… it might not change a damned thing.
*****
New York
Alex scowled, frustrated as he searched the East River down toward liberty island, looking for the shadowed figure he’d punted out of the city to buy himself time to deal with the Ifrit. It had been necessary at the time, but it seemed like it had lost him one of the changed.
I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me, He thought grimly, snorting at the idea with a dark amusement. Which, of course, it’s going to. I just hope not too many die because I had to make a call in the middle of a fight. Damn it.
He gave up, knowing that there was no way he would find his quarry short of a miraculous stroke of luck. With no faith that any such stroke would be forthcoming, all he could do was call it a day and help a little with the cleanup while the local first responders dug themselves out.
New York was a mess, but from what he was monitoring, it was far from the only city to have been struck.
Alex flew back over the center of the fight and landed next to the car he’d pinned the Ifrit to, eyes falling on the body. The changes had stuck, even in death, but the active powers that had been in evidence had faded away with the man’s life. The flames were out, and the changed man’s skin was sallow and without any life, horrific or otherwise, to animate it.
Alex retrieved the sword, flipping it over idly in his hand as he examined the weapon. It was an ancient design, something from the bronze age he rather thought. A short, stabbing weapon primarily, designed to be used in conjunction with a shield he supposed. The metal looks dull and it rang dully when he flicked his finger against it.
It seems to have died with it’s owner, Alex thought idly as he remembered the weapon ablaze with life and flame.
As thought in response to his thoughts, the sword blazed back to life in his hands, almost leading him to drop it in surprise.
“What the-?” He blurted, holding it out from his face, until he recognized that he felt no heat emanating from the weapon.
Slowly he turned it around, eyes examining every angle as best he could. Again he flicked the weapon with a single finger, this time rewarded with a clean tone that rang through the street like a cleansing wash.
“Well, I’m not leaving you here,” He said, uncertain as to what the weapon was doing exactly, “but I need to put the flames ou…”
He trailed off as the fires vanished, leaving a very different weapon than the one he’d picked up.
It was a clean, straight blade, of gleaming steel with a gold cross guard. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t quite place it in his memory. For the moment, though, it was not on fire so he would count his blessings as he slipped the weapon into his belt and lifted slowly back into the air and turned his focus to search and rescue operations.
It’s going to be a long night.
*****
Blue Solar West HQ, London, England
Wesley Trenton turned off the TV as the news changed from the replay of the events in New York to cover some other minor political bullshit he had no interest in.
Our mysterious foe, if that is what they are, has made a rather ambitious play this time.
The billionaire turned to look over the reports from over fifteen different cities across the world that had experienced similar events to what had just happened in New York, most with far less happy outcomes.
China had been struck again, this time in Beijing. The death toll was estimated by US Intelligence to be in the tens of thousands, possibly hundreds, but the Chinese government were stomping down hard on any external communications. The only thing Wesley was reasonably certain of was that it had involved a militant band of Tibetan separatists that had vanished from a Chinese prison a few days earlier, leaving a variety of amputated limbs behind.
Attempts to contain the attackers in Beijing had finally succeeded, but only when China’s Dragon arrived on scene from Hong Kong.
Most cities didn’t have the defenders that New York, or even Beijing, had been able to marshal, however.
We’ve been lucky that London hasn’t been targeted yet, he thought grimly, but expected that would not last for long.
A report lay on his desk, he’d not pinned it to the wall yet because he couldn’t bring himself to touch those words without feeling physically ill. It spoke of a scene that MI-5 had happened upon in Northern Ireland, when their observation of a militant IRA cell had suddenly gone dark.
Severed limbs, some belonging to MI-5 agents assigned to the surveillance, and others to the suspected terrorists were found at the location.
Nothing, and no one else, had been.
Wesley walked out to the window that extended from the floor to ceiling of his office, looking out over one of the oldest metropolises in the western world with a heavy pit forming in his guts. It was coming for his city too, there was no doubt in his mind.
His fist clenched, knuckles whitening.
London would have its own defenders.
Wesley turned back to his desk and hit a button on the intercom.
“Yes, Mr Trenton?”
“Tell the lab I’m coming down,” He said. “I want a full brief.”
“yes Sir.”
*****
The lab was one of the best in the world, and would be the best as soon as Wesley had time to put in the rest of the tools he’d ordered. It was just one of the labs he had put together in a rush since the incident in Hong Kong, however, and probably the least important of them in fact.
It was a combination of a genetics lab, with some of the best minds he’d been able to hire amid massive government recruitment of genetics specialists, and a physics lab. High energy physics, with a lean to quantum theory, based on the reports he’d been given access to as his company gained clearance needed to make it’s bids on the new government projects that were coming down the pipeline.
Unsurprisingly, the government was keenly interested in any work that involved cutting edge work into CRISPR techniques. That made it childs play to have his own resources augmented by taxpayer funds. Wesley expected that he had more than enough money to pursue the technology himself, but if the government was willing to back his efforts, he wouldn’t stand in their way.
Their goals, and his, were in alignment for the moment.
He looked around as he stepped into the outer lab, a large curved glass viewing area looking in on the clean room beyond.
“Report,” He said crisply, not bothering with small talk.
“Mr Trenton,” Erin Davis nodded simply, “Welcome. We’ve made progress based on the data provided from your government contacts, but it will be months yet before we’re ready to begin trials…”
“Unacceptable.”
Davis started, looking over at Wesley with trepidation.
“Mr Trenton,” He said after a moment, “I do not believe that you’re fully aware of the complexities involved in this research…”
“I am quite certain that I’m not,” Wesley agreed, “however I am aware of the timeline we have to work within, and months are simply not in the books I’m afraid. I expect an attack here in London within days, if not hours. The rest of the world is already reeling from similar incidents, and the only things that have been standing between civilized people and the monsters who would kill or subjugate us, are a smattering of similarly changed… beings… who, for the moment, choose to defend us instead of the alternatives.”
He turned to look at the doctor, eyes flint grey and face a mas
k of stony emotionless determination.
“We will not be caught between our enemies and our… would be saviours,” He said coolly, “not if this company, and my resources, have any possible say in the matter. Am I being very clear?”
Davis nodded jerkily, his face worried, “Yes Sir, but that doesn’t change the numbers. We’re dealing with almost incalculable permutations…”
“Stop right there, you said almost incalculable,” Wesley said, holding his hand up. “What do you need to make it calculable.”
Davis snorted, “our own Beowulf cluster, perhaps, but even then I can’t guarantee…”
“I have one being assembled off site even as we speak,” Wesley said. “Two hundred million, with an estimated upkeep in the region of twenty million a year. You’ll have full access to all the cycles you need. Next?”
Davis closed his eyes, thinking hard.
“Every piece of data you can find on the human genome,” He said, “and I mean every piece. Anything we have to recreate is something we have to waste time on.”
“You tell me who has it,” Wesley said. “I’ll get it for you.”
Davis sighed, “This is still going to only cut it down to weeks instead of months, maybe.”
“How do we get it down to days, if not hours, then?”
“Honestly, Sir?”
Wesley gave him a cold look, “Obviously.”
“There is only one way to do it that fast,” Davis said, taking a deep breath.
“Say it.”
“We break every legal and ethical rule in the book,” Davis said through a grimace, “then we invent a few more and break those too.”
Wesley nodded slowly.
“I understand. Make your preparations.”
*****
The probe examined the incidents that had blossomed from the first phase of the operation, satisfied that progress was now being made.
The world below was still an abomination that needed to be destroyed, along with the entire system as well as possibly some neighboring stars. The disease carried too easily through even the depths of space to leave anything remotely close to an infected world unsterilized.