by J. N. Chaney
I pried open the panel with my knife, sheathed it, and attached the battery. Seconds later, X-37 had the emergency hatch open. I crawled inside and closed it behind me.
“Good work, X,” I said. “That was close. If he spotted me, there could be problems later but I’m really hoping for some decent weapons to even the odds.”
X-37 said nothing. A low buzz of static filled my ear, something I never enjoyed hearing. My previous adventures with the LAI had taken us through some times when he’d been attacked or compromised by various entities.
“Can you help me break into the armory?” I said the moment I found the triple locker near the back of the main passenger compartment.
“Negative, Reaper Cain. I’m dealing with some issues right now.”
“Okay, X. Looks like nothing in here is locked anyway.”
Random sounds whispered in my ear—beeps, chirps, and a lot of static. My LAI was definitely having issues. I listened but continued my search for anything that would help me win a showdown with a sniper.
13
A careful search of the assault shuttle revealed an assortment of weapons. Three HDK Dominator III Deathlance models occupied the racks, which were conveniently unlocked. When I left the Union, these things were only a concept. There was also a pair of Ryker 55 pistols and an excellent combat knife.
“This is like a birthday present from my worst enemies,” I said. “Maybe the Union isn’t the root of all evil.”
“Sarcasm detected.”
Designed to hit harder, shoot faster, and have nearly perfect accuracy out of the box, the rifles and the pistols were completely useless without ammunition. I searched every conceivable place a bullet could be hidden and found nothing.
“Your heart rate and blood pressure suggest that you feel the need to swear profusely,” X-37 said. “I’m curious as to why you have not shared your delightful vocabulary with me.”
“It’s fine, X. I’m fine. Glad you’re back.” I balled up my left fist, barely caring that it was no longer cybernetic. “I’m good, but it seems like someone’s toying with me. Who leaves guns like these and no ammunition?”
“My analysis suggests someone took all the guns and ammunition they needed and left these behind because they could not carry them,” X-37 said.
“Don’t get all rational on me and use facts,” I muttered. “I’ll just have to find somebody with ammunition and take it from them.”
“This has been one of your go to solutions in the past. My records show that it has an eighty-nine percent success rate, but I am missing the file that explains why.”
“You win some, you lose some, X.”
“This seems obvious.” My LAI didn’t bother to continue the conversation, which was for the best.
I checked my HUD for the elapsed time and found that nearly fifteen minutes had passed. The sniper could be poking around outside the ship by now. If he had explosive charges, he might make things difficult, but I doubted he could destroy the assault shuttle or even force his way inside. X-37 had told me I would need explosives and my Reaper blade to force entry.
If the sniper tried, I’d have plenty of advanced warning, and he would draw all kinds of predators from the area with the noise he would have to make.
“Hey, X, did you reset the code?”
“Of course, Reaper Cain. There is a thirty-one percent chance that an expert with sufficient explosives could breach the armor of this assault shuttle. It is significantly tougher than any other I have on record. I’m currently searching for a reason.”
“You always do.”
“I have recalculated the sniper’s chance as thirteen percent on the assumption he doesn’t have a Reaper blade or other pry tool to force apart blasted panels.”
“Great. We should celebrate with whiskey and cigars.”
“There are none on this ship.”
“Of course there aren’t.”
I ditched the useless Hagg rifle and acquired one of the new HDKs, strapping it next to my backpack that carried the small computer holding a good portion of X-37’s memory. Cursing my stupidity, I activated the ship’s interior systems and plugged in the device.
“Are you there, buddy?” I waited but got no response. One of the pistols went in the backpack, the other I tucked through my belt.
There had been missions in my previous life where my LAI went dormant to avoid detection. This convinced me I wasn’t the only one being hunted. The sniper wanted to take me out, and a computer system in the immediate vicinity was giving my LAI grief. Assault shuttles didn’t normally have an AI, but maybe things had changed while I was being baked in a clone pod. X-37 was good, but even a basic AI would have a significant advantage in processing power and programming—specifically the fact that an artificial intelligence would have fewer restrictions than a limited artificial intelligence.
I did a circuit of the vehicle’s interior and waited. With no cameras activated to the exterior, there wasn’t much I could do to prepare for whatever the sniper was doing to kill me. Trapped and blind wasn’t my favorite position.
“Reaper Cain, we must leave this vehicle immediately,” X-37 finally said.
“Your computer host needs charging and this seems like the best place to do it,” I said. “Just help me prepare for the fight. That sniper won’t wait forever.”
“Losing power is a risk we will have to take. Leave now, Reaper Cain.”
“I need more information. You’re freaking me out.”
“This assault craft belonged to somebody powerful. Our situation is not what it seems. Your new rifle is a prime example. That weapon was never approved for use,” X-37 said.
I shrugged. “Who cares? I assumed it had been pushed through the final evaluation process while I was in prison. A lot has changed since then. It’s just a rifle.”
“You don’t understand, Reaper Cain. The shuttle belongs to someone who never had to follow Union rules. We need to, in your words, un-ass the area before shit gets real.”
“Fine. Access the exterior cameras and tell me if we’re going to get shot in the head the moment we leave this ship,” I said.
“I am unable to accomplish that task,” X-37 said. “Please disconnect me from the power source immediately. I cannot overstate the importance of this action.”
I let out a long breath, resisting the urge to swear as I did what my LAI demanded. X-37’s concerns sent shivers up the back of my neck. He seemed afraid, which was impossible.
This day was just going to continue to suck. “Come to Maglan, they said. Everyone will be safe and happy, they said.”
“Stand by,” X-37 said.
“For what? The identity of this super scary boogie man?”
Power flickered in the cockpit. I tensed, ready for action. An image straight out of my worst nightmare appeared on the main view screen. The man was gaunt, his face sunken as though he’d been forced onto a starvation diet. His pale blue eyes were ghostly and his blonde hair was nearly translucent, but worst of all he stared straight into my soul even though this was a static image—a personnel file or a mugshot.
I’d woken up from hundreds of nightmares from the hard gaze of this man—heart racing, body trembling every time. Nobody, not even my LAI, should know about this nameless terror.
“Who the hell is that, X? And don’t tell me you’ve started reading my mind and pulling images out of my dreams,” I said.
“You know that is impossible and would cause me to shut down immediately,” X-37 said. “That is Dr. David Scheid, the only scientist to be removed from the Reaper program against his will. The reason cited was moral deficiency.”
“He got canned for lacking morals? How can you have less than zero? The Reaper Corps never had any standards that approached human decency.” Each word sounded like someone else was speaking them. I felt like someone had just clubbed me over the head. Naming the man wasn’t dispelling the primal reaction I had to his image.
“This was Dr. Scheid’s shutt
le. If he left any type of spyware in the program, we are in trouble. I believe we may have discovered the primary suspect in the cloning operation,” X-37 said. “The records of why he and his team abandoned this assault ship were wiped, but it was a big file. In the digital world, big files often indicate danger.”
“Yeah, sure.” I got my shit together, normalizing my breathing, reminding myself this ghost wasn’t actually here, and listing the things X and I needed for survival. “That doesn’t change the fact that your host computer is holding half your memories and needs power.”
“If you don’t leave now, we will both suffer a fate worse than death. Take your chances with the sniper, Reaper Cain.”
I hated when my partner was right. “You better be on your game for this one. I’ll need maps and information as fast as you can give it to me, but only at the right time. I’ll be running the moment we leave the shuttle. No distractions until we reach safety. The sniper will be set up on the ship with the range locked in with the wind and humidity measured and accounted for.”
“Understood, Reaper Cain.”
I checked my gear, making sure my backpack in particular was closed and strapped snuggly in place. Losing the computer would be like losing a limb. My LAI wasn’t fully integrated. No matter what he said, saving my annoying digital babysitter was job one.
The HKD Dominator III Deathlance is the next most important piece of gear, even though I haven’t found ammunition yet. I never thought I would own a D3D.
“Get ready, X. I’m making a run for the next building—not one of the hangars,” I said.
“I’ll go where you go,” he said.
“You’re the funniest LAI in the room, X.”
“Compliment detected.”
“Three, two, one—” I hit the door button and bounced on the balls of my feet until it lifted. Sprinting down the still falling ramp felt good. I didn’t look for the sniper, but I kept my eyes open knowing that X-37 would be paying attention to whatever I saw as well.
Wind blew through my short hair. Three strides into my escape, I veered right. The sound of a gunshot reached me a second later. I didn’t see where the slug went but assumed it was a close call. All my attention was on reaching the train depot straight ahead.
The stairs were steeper than they looked. My knees flexed to support my weight and my forward momentum as I took them two at a time. Leaves tumbled around me, dancing with faded bits of trash. The place was a mess. Windblown dirt made the top step slippery, and I nearly went down.
Another shot rang out. This time, I felt it pass me. The hot flick on my neck stung even though I knew instinctively it was a miss. A strike from a HDK Dominator III would mean death.
The arches at the main entrance didn’t have doors. This was a public space in every sense of the word, or had been when Maglan had a population. I dove, rolled, and nearly lost the backpack and the rifle. Masonry exploded where my head would have been had I entered with less style.
I slowed my pace, watching for survivors. Bed rolls and other camping detritus lay in random patterns. A lot of people had sheltered here at one time. Someone, or something, had scattered them, probably in the middle of the night when they were least prepared. None of the evidence seemed fresh, so I continued to the rail access on the lower level.
The escalators were silent and partially cloaked in the darkness of the lower level. I jumped, landed between a pair of them, and slid to the bottom, hoping this wasn’t my most recent mistake. Leaping into the unknown usually had consequences.
“Please allow your eyes to adjust before charging ahead,” X-37 said. “Together, we can listen for pursuit.”
I stumbled blindly forward, plagued by the image of Dr. David Scheid. “What would I do without you?”
“Did you injure yourself on the way down,” X asked.
“No, X. Just some post traumatic stress.” I stumbled into the darkness. “I never thought Scheid was real. Torture does things to your dreams. Who questions the identity of the devil when he shows up?”
“I have no evidence the devil exists or of Dr. David Scheid being an embodiment of that myth.”
“Trust me, X. The devil is as real as I am.”
“You can’t possibly know that. I would have noticed.”
I reached for the wall to guide my way and touched only air, then reluctantly stopped. “You and me, X. We were the devil for a long time.”
Silence. Distant sounds of rats scurrying through the subway tunnels. Wind finding its way below ground.
“I have moved rest and relaxation up on your task list. You need a whiskey and a cigar, Reaper Cain.”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
14
My eyes adjusted. I moved forward, hands empty but ready to draw the knife if needed. The rails were empty for as far as I could see. The boarding zone looked like there had been panic here as well. I saw scraps of clothing, one empty pistol magazine, and a child’s toy.
“I think the evacuation went better in some places than others,” I said.
“Agreed. The people of Maglan are exceptionally skilled at mass transportation due to their background, but there was chaos and disorder here.”
I moved into the tunnel, walking on the narrow access way beside the rails. I knew from experience that subway tunnels were a double-edged sword. They could allow quick movement below ground but were also a terrible place to be trapped. There would be doors and maintenance tunnels, but not very many, and they were almost always locked.
“Tell me about that, X. What did I miss during the last ten years?”
My LAI didn’t answer for several minutes, which was fine. I was falling into a rhythm, breathing steadily and watching for threats. Would the watcher pursue me underground? Maybe. There were plenty of other dangers in a ruined city like this.
“The attack began on your estate,” X-37 said.
“You mentioned that. You also said my mother was killed by an HC unit but I want proof.”
“There are other details,” X-37 said. “The first assassination attempt was not subtle. Three pedestrians, possibly HC units but there’s no way to tell, approached your estate during one of the rare public events you allowed.”
“I allowed visitors to my cigar factory?”
“You did, Reaper Cain. The fact that you do not remember this suggests that the clone program began sometime before you instituted this practice,” X-37 said. “It was quite a popular tourist destination. At the end, sample cigars were distributed to adults and plastic Reaper blades to children who immediately began to run wild and have mock battles.”
I stopped walking. “I stuck around for that? Was I drunk?”
“That was why you were not killed in the initial attack. You had gone to the city to scout a competitor’s tobacco shop and visit Tom, who married a woman named Amanda Dancer, by the way.” X-37 waited for me to get moving again before continuing the story. “The assassins never made it inside the tour, but all three of them were carrying nuclear devices that they detonated simultaneously after triangulating around your manor house. There were no survivors. If you persist on this quest to see your home, you will find only a wasteland.”
“I still have to see it.”
“Understood. I will find a suitable place to view it from a distance and add that to your someday maybe task list.”
“Don’t give me that ‘someday maybe’ bullshit.” Water dripped in the distance, proof that the subway tunnel had been abandoned for a long time. I didn’t know a lot about their operation but was familiar with their maintenance practices and allowing water to accumulate was a definite no no. “Tell me more. What happened next?”
“Your predecessor went into hiding and sought your mother, sister, Elise, and the others. You never found any of them. Everywhere you went, you were plagued by assassination attempts and caught in the middle of random battles. There are many details I am unable to understand, either because I lost some of my memory, or because we never discovered all of th
e players involved.”
I came to a collapse and the source of the water dripping down from the street above. Climbing up would be easier than going back to the last exit I passed, so I started picking my way through the rubble.
“You already encountered the Jump Force Troopers and the Hagg humanoids. They had a tenuous alliance in the early days of the war, but I believe the Hagg merely follow the Oroth soldiers along their planet hopping conquests and sometimes fought beside them,” X-37 said. “Your predecessor and I had many arguments about whether or not Oroth military scientists were the creators of the Halek Cain clones.”
“We know better now, don’t we? What was your original theory?” I asked.
“Due to lack of evidence, I assumed there had to be some connection between the Oroth and Hagg systems, and that one of them designed, manufactured, and sent the clones to assassinate you as a means of cleaning up their back trail. If this was true, one might assume you were a threat to them. Your predecessor refused to agree until I could show motivation and method.” X-37 waited for me to climb to the surface, then look around. When no one shot me dead, he began again. “Our discovery in the assault shuttle offers new insight but also raises questions. For example, how is it that he shows up here, so far from the Union, at the same time as the Oroth invasion?”
X paused but started again before I could talk. “Doctor David Scheid would definitely have the motivation and the skills to create a clone program. He hated you with a passion.”
“That seems unreasonable.” I slipped quickly through the shadows of false dawn. I needed to sleep, but I also needed to put as much distance between me and the watcher as possible—at least until I was better equipped.
“It actually is quite sensible,” X-37 said. “Scheid was obsessed with regeneration and clones. He was young and very junior when the Reaper program began. His knowledge of regeneration and healing was vital to the cybernetics program, but clones were taboo and illegal.”
“Nice of Union dark ops to follow the law. That’s a first.”