by Wesley Chu
Respect your predecessors. Each vessel’s role in the Genjix is different. Devin never fired a gun in his life. Not all excel militarily.
“Apologies, Zoras. I meant no disrespect.”
An engineering crew approached the primary armory bay, originally designed for a nuclear payload. Enzo doubted Atlantis had those in her hull. The weak-willed Prophus would never have the gall to use a weapon of such power, so why bother lugging them around? It was the largest opening in the sub and gave his men the widest bottleneck to work with. A laser cut straight around the hinges should take less than an hour. He leaned forward eagerly and watched the sparks fly.
Hand the responsibility of the prisoners to Yuki. You must prepare for the meeting with the Council tonight. Your place among them rests on their acceptance.
“I am an Adonis Vessel, Zoras, raised only for this purpose. Why would the Council not accept me? I am the epitome of the human and Quasing merger.”
Since the Hatchery’s inception, only a handful of Adonis have been blessed. Its record since the Second World War has been inconsistent. The first two programs produced catastrophic failures. There are those in the hierarchy who still question its product. You must not make a bad impression upon them.
Enzo dismissed that dated theory. “The program was perfected years ago. The early Adonis recruits were poor samples. Training back then was imperfect. I am living proof of its success.” He unclenched his fist on the railing and then clenched even tighter, his excitement replaced with growing irritation. It was insulting to question the Hatchery’s effectiveness.
We shall see.
“Father,” Yuki said, bowing. “Myyk is asking to meet with Zoras.”
“Abrams wishes to speak terms?” Enzo chuckled. “What terms could they possibly offer?”
All information is useful. It is wise to know your enemy.
“As you wish, Zoras.”
He took the phone from Yuki. “Admiral Abrams,” he said respectfully.
“A young man by the sound of it,” Abrams’s calm, aged voice spoke on the other line. “This is Zoras’ new vessel then? Last time I spoke with Devin, he was hacking up a lung.”
“A pleasure, sir,” Enzo turned on the charm. “I am the new vessel of the Holy One.”
“How unfortunate.” There was a pause on the other line. “Devin was formidable. Though on opposing sides, we shared a mutual respect. I am saddened by his passing.”
“Thank you for your kind words. Father Devin is greatly missed.” Abrams’s voice reminded him of a doddering old man, nothing like what an admiral’s would be. “I offer you the opportunity to convey your condolences in person at your surrender.”
“We haven’t discussed terms yet, son.”
Being called son only reinforced his image of the old feeble fool. Enzo blocked it out of his mind and pressed on. “Apologies, Admiral, but there is little you can offer. If you value the lives of your crew...”
“You do not want to have to board the Atlantis.”
Enzo masked his growing annoyance. “Abrams, the Scimitar is in a military naval yard surrounded by a thousand Genjix and twenty thousand Chinese soldiers. Your defeat is not in question.”
Offer him terms of surrender.
“Why bother, Zoras? He is trapped in the tin can. Unconditional surrender is his only recourse.”
Whichever entryway we cut through will be heavily defended. Our casualties will be high. You also want to take them alive, so that rules out incendiaries. There is also the question of nuclear armaments on board.
“Casualties are acceptable. They are only humans.”
Abrams continued speaking as if he were talking about watering his garden. “I never said victory was an option. However, taking Atlantis will prove difficult. The Atlantis will bleed you before you take her.”
“My men will do what is necessary to take the Scimitar,” Enzo accentuated the true name of the submarine. “You still have nothing to offer.”
“I offer the lives of the men you will lose if you take Atlantis by force.”
“Forgive me if that incentive holds little value to me. I am a vessel of the gods. The lives you offer are there to be expended, so here are my terms. Come out unarmed and surrender unconditionally. You have until we cut through your doors to decide if you want to save your crew’s lives.” He handed the phone back to Yuki and continued to stare intently at the work below.
That was inelegant. You should have listened. You have much to learn.
Enzo grunted and continued to watch the dancing sparks of the laser as it bounced off the submarine walls. Six minutes into cutting, the bay doors made a clicking noise and began to lift. The engineers stopped and took a few steps back.
“See, Zoras? The Prophus are weak and have already given up.”
The door stopped a quarter of a meter off the ground, making a booming sound that bounced off the drydock walls and echoed through the room. Half a dozen metal objects rolled out from the opening, followed by the sound of automatic fire. The engineering crew was cut down immediately while the guards surrounding the submarine scattered. Two of Enzo’s bodyguards pulled him down to the ground. The resulting explosions rocked the drydock.
He heard the screams of men and the creak of metal as another explosion shook the building. Red lights flashed, and in the distance, a siren wailed. Enzo threw his men off and scanned the carnage over the railing. Smoke was everywhere and several dozens of his men lay dead.
Yuki walked up to him cautiously and held up the phone. “It’s for you, Father. The Prophus wishes to discuss terms.”
Enzo snarled and snatched the phone.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Abrams said. “I want guarantees for my crew.”
Offer imprisonment and guarantee the safety for the crew.
Enzo reluctantly relayed the offer.
“Now that we’ve established a baseline,” Abrams said, “I want the entire crew and half of the Prophus agents released. We choose which half.”
Enzo gritted his teeth. “You forget who has the upper hand.”
That is his opening salvo. Do not react to every offer. Guarantee the safety of the crew. All Prophus agents will be held by us. The crew will be transferred to a Chinese Military prison instead.
“How is that a better offer than the first?” was Abrams’s response to that.
“Why don’t we meet like gentlemen over a glass of wine. I can have my men bring a table next to the Scimitar.”
Abrams laughed. “Possibly if it was still Devin. However, I am perfectly comfortable in my quarters.”
And thus the negotiations continued for the rest of the day and well into the night. They haggled over prisoner counts and prison locations. They bargained over the submarine database and the activation codes. They even argued over protocol for surrender. The Prophus were adamant about keeping their people together and not separated into a Chinese prison. The Genjix were equally adamant about none of the Prophus agents being freed.
Enzo had initially tried to stall for time in order to call in another engineering team to finish the job. Abrams would have none of it. When the second team was killed off, Enzo had to take the negotiation more seriously. Even in better faith, it proved difficult. Three times, twice because of Enzo and once because of Abrams, negotiations broke down and the cutting began again, resulting in more deaths on the Genjix side.
Finally, twelve hours later, they had come to an agreement. The non-Quasing crew would be imprisoned for a period of six months, kept in good health, and then released. Sixty percent of the Prophus vessels, chosen by the Genjix, would be given the same accommodations. The other forty percent were prisoners of the Genjix to be treated as they pleased. In return, the Prophus surrendered peacefully, kept the integrity of the now-renamed-again Scimitar, and released all access codes.
Enzo was furious at these concessions, but maintained a calm demeanor in front of his people. He was even more angry that negotiations had taken so lo
ng. The Prophus were trapped in a maximum-security naval base. To concede so much was a slap in the face. Not only that, he had to beg the Council to postpone the meeting, citing the negotiations as an excuse. To show weakness right before his ascension shamed him.
The fault was yours that we conceded so much. Abrams could tell you were hurried and dragged the terms. You must learn patience. We are Genjix. Time is irrelevant.
Being berated by Zoras did not help Enzo’s mood. While he worshiped the Holy Ones, he was an Adonis Vessel, a chosen messenger in his own right. All his life, he had known he was special. His rise to a vessel of a Holy One had been impressed upon him since he was a child, and he was unaccustomed to not having his way. The lack of deferential treatment he received from Abrams was unsettling. The enemy had showed respect to Zoras’ previous vessel after all. Why not to him? Devin was not even an Adonis Vessel. Enzo watched the bay doors opened as the Prophus finally surrendered, their heads held high as if they were on a victory march.
“Stay alert,” he told his guards as he made his way down to the ground level.
“Zoras, tell me what you know of Abrams.”
You walk a thin line, vessel. Myyk is a high value Prophus. We share extensive history. I have known him since before mankind harnessed fire. He was part of the very first group of Quasing scouts sent to find others of our kind. I do not care for most of the Prophus but Myyk has value.
“And the old man?”
Abrams has been with the Prophus for forty years, rising through the ranks via their military arm. Watch your words around him. He is clever and spent twenty of those years on the front line. Do not engage him in singular combat. Even at his age, he is dangerous.
“Sounds like a challenge. My will is superior.”
You are no longer at the Hatchery. This is not a game.
“I never treated the Hatchery like a game.”
You will soon discover that the reality you knew is not what you will experience.
His men came to attention when he reached the ground level. The tension in the air was thick. Though the Prophus were unarmed, as agreed, the Genjix agents were trigger happy. He noticed Abrams and the rest of the Prophus eying him. One wrong move and a battle could erupt. Something must be done to cement the peace before his plans were destroyed. Enzo put his hand on the shoulder of the nearest Genjix agent.
“Stand down,” he said in a loud, assuring voice. “Blood won’t be spilled today.” The soldier lowered his rifle without question. The rest of his men followed suit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Prophus relax as well. Abrams did not. Enzo gave his man a reassuring pat on the back before strolling toward Abrams as if on a Sunday walk after church. He got within two meters of the Admiral and bowed.
“By the power bestowed on me as Admiral of the Prophus fleet,” Abrams said formally, “and by the terms of our surrender, I give you the codes and the guarantee of my subordinates to offer no resistance.” He stood at attention, awaiting Enzo’s response.
Enzo studied his enemy for a second. At first, Abrams looked exactly like any other elderly man. Upon closer inspection, he noticed Abrams’s distinguished facial lines, his skin pale undoubtedly from years living in a submarine, his lean, tall figure, and his resilient penetrating eyes. This was not a man to be trifled with. He was also standing with both his feet pointing slightly inward, a sign of a trained martial artist.
Enzo stuck out his hand. “Admiral Abrams, it’s a pleasure. I wish we could become acquainted on better terms.”
Abrams hesitated before taking his hand. “Myyk feels the same way. He and Zoras have a history of mutual respect.”
“Zoras still remembers what you did for his vessels during the Stone Age, how you brought him from the darkness and into the Quasing fold.”
Abrams relaxed. “It was a difficult time for us. I still believe our goals remain the same, and that one day, we can all work together for the greater good of all.” He handed the notebook to Enzo and saluted. “The Atlantis is yours.”
Enzo took the notebook and then handed it off to Yuki. She scanned the codes and then nodded. Enzo turned and scanned the rank and file crew. According to the terms of the surrender, over three quarters of the enemy would be free in six months. And while it was a low price to pay for an intact nuclear submarine, it still reflected badly upon him.
“You are a shrewd diplomat, Admiral,” he mused. “I missed my induction into the Council because of our negotiations.”
“Convey my apologies to your Council.” Abrams sounded anything but apologetic.
Enzo smiled. “Of course. Please.” He gestured for Abrams to follow. “I will arrange some accommodations worthy of your rank.”
Abrams nodded and followed in step next to Enzo. “Thank you. Now if possible, Myyk would like to speak with Zoras tonight...”
He never finished his sentence. As they were walking, Enzo took a step back and cut the back of Abrams’s knees with a kick, sweeping his legs out from under him.
Enzo, no!
Credit was due to the old man: as Abrams fell to the floor, he rolled away and got back to his feet. Immediately, Enzo was on top of him, lashing out with his fists. He connected with Abrams’s face, shattering an orbital bone. But the old man was a tough old nut. He stayed on his feet and retreated to the protection of his people. In his peripheral vision, Enzo saw the Prophus agents closing in to protect their Admiral. He heard the footsteps of his own guards approach from behind. A pitched battle was about to commence.
What do you think you are doing? An arrangement has been agreed upon!
“I have this under control, Zoras.”
“Come out, Admiral, if you value your crew,” Enzo yelled. “Your sacrifice will save their lives.”
To his credit, the old man held his arms out and ordered his men back. Enzo waited while he gave final instructions to those around him, and then came forward. Enzo waved his guards back as well, and the two met in the center of the circular opening.
Abrams shook his head. “Is this the honor of the Genjix now?”
“This is the honor of the victor,” Enzo smirked. “We will dictate what history says.”
“It is a pity,” Abrams remarked. “Devin was honorable. He would be ashamed of Zoras’ new host.”
“Shame is reserved only for the defeated,” Enzo growled and attacked.
This time though, Abrams was ready. As Enzo charged in, he nimbly sidestepped and danced away. He ducked Enzo’s leaping swing and kept his distance, feinting and bobbing his way out of reach.
“Clumsy, lad,” Abrams said. “I expected more from a Hatchery-raised Adonis. I could have countered you twice there.”
Enzo pressed the attack, covering ground quickly and sweeping low with his foot. He relished this real combat. Trained by the very best in jujitsu and boxing, he had always been considered too valuable to deploy to the field. Now, he enjoyed the adrenaline of a real life-and-death fight. He grazed Abrams’s foot as the older man skipped back again.
“Predictable,” Abrams chuckled. “A low counter or a step down would have shattered your kneecap there. It is a pity I still honor our agreement, or I would have taught you a lesson, pup.”
Enzo grunted and doubled his aggression. He was not going to let this ancient weakling make him look a fool in front of his men. He swung a hard right, folding it into an elbow that grazed Abrams’s nose. Still, Abrams shifted out of the way and kept his hands up, emulating a strike. “Another two blows to your exposed left side. Your guard needs work. If I had...”
“Then do it!” Enzo snapped. “Defend yourself if you can.”
Enzo, no! You do not know who you are dealing with.
A wicked grin appeared on Abrams’s face. “As you wish.”
Abrams’s attack came so fast that Enzo barely even noticed it. He felt the air pop near his left ear and then a hard pull that lifted him off his feet as Abrams grabbed his collar and threw him across the room.
You are being fool
ish. Myyk was Dong Haichuan, and Abrams was once a deadly assassin in his own right.
Enzo recognized the name of the creator of Bagua Zhang as he landed unceremoniously on his rump. He rolled away just as a foot came stomping down. The challenge of this fight piqued his interest even more. A real opponent. Enzo picked himself up off the ground and brought his guard up. His face turned crimson red when he heard the cheers of the Prophus and the mutters of his own men.
“I will not lose to this feeble man. I will impose my will and strength on him!”
Your standing among the Genjix will fall if you do. This is a terrible risk you take to gain nothing.
Abrams pressed the attack. Enzo blocked three quick strikes and countered. Abrams dodged an uppercut but ate a side kick. Enzo followed up with a flurry that missed its mark. Enzo was stronger and quicker, but Abrams was by far the craftier fighter.
Abrams continued to throw him off balance, tugging his sleeves and tripping him. However, the old man eventually tired and Enzo’s attacks got closer to their mark. Finally, two jabs followed a leg sweep and he was on top of Abrams. Once he had locked down the slippery old man, the fight was a forgone conclusion. Enzo rained punches on Abrams, striking him repeatedly in the face. The Prophus gasped and a wave of them surged forward to protect their leader.
“One more step and my men will open fire,” Enzo screamed. Immediately, a hundred Genjix rifles trained on the prisoners. The Prophus officers barked orders to stand down.
Victory is yours. End this display.
But Enzo was not done yet. As the old man lay unconscious on the ground, Enzo began to kick him in the ribs, breaking more bones.
Stop this at once. You are acting mad!
“I am in perfect control, Zoras. Watch.”
Enzo continued beating on Abrams, playing the part of a madman intent on pummeling this helpless old man to death. And while he had a look of fury on his face, his mind was calm. He was no more angry beating on Abrams than a butcher hacking a side of beef. He pulled Abrams up by the shirt and clocked him in the jaw. Abrams groaned and lay sprawled on the ground, not moving. Enzo stomped down hard on Abrams’s knees, relishing in seeing exposed bone. The old man would never walk again. Enzo then pulled his knife from his belt and knelt down to cut the Quasing out of this undeserving human. There was a flash in the corner of his eyes.