Fallen Metropolis (Omnibus Edition)

by Matthew J. Barbeler

  “We can’t think about that. We need to be there for each other. It’s all we have left.”

  “I know.”

  Rhken helped Reban up from her chair and they walked over to Veck together. Their hands clutched in a fierce embrace. Neither of them wanted to let go, but when Veck motioned for Reban to descend the ladder first, Reban let go of Rhken’s hand. She gave her sister a look of resignation and began to climb down.

  “Watch him,” Veck said and motioned his head toward Arak, “If he does anything to threaten my safety, your sister will die. Remember my words from earlier. I am a man of my word.”

  Rhken nodded wordlessly and joined Arak by the exit of the bridge.

  As they walked towards the medbay Rhken asked, “How badly is your arm broken?”

  “I don’t think elbows are meant to bend this way,” Arak said with a pained smile.

  Rhken offered a sad smile back. They continued in silence until they reached the medbay. The operating table was in the center of the room. It hadn’t been used for so long that a cloth had been thrown over it and it had been turned into a storage space for superfluous medical supplies.

  On the right-hand side of the room was a medpod that looked somewhat like the pods inside the armory. It was a white cylinder with a clear glass door on the front. Inside the pod was an upright gurney that a patient would be strapped into before starting a procedure. The arm sections were on separate hinges that moved up and down with lateral shoulder movement.

  Arak activated the medpod. The door slid open and the gurney swung down from its vertical position. Arak and Rhken unhooked all the straps. He stepped back from the gurney and started to remove his chest armor. He gave the mental command to disengage the shoulder joints from the main torso module, then disengaged the chest armor connections. The connections that ran up the side of his chest loosened, and the armor on his arms also disengaged. Rhken helped him gently remove it all.

  The left arm of his smartsuit was slick with blood. The armor was off, but the neuro-conductive smartsuit remained intact. Something protruded from beneath the skin. Arak swore under his breath and climbed aboard the gurney.

  “Rhken, could you please help me strap in?” he asked.

  “Of course. Get as comfortable as you can. I’ll need to take your smartsuit off at the shoulder, all right?”

  “Yes. Please be careful. The pain relief the suit was providing has started to wear off. It’s getting to be unbearable,” Arak said through clenched teeth.

  Rhken secured Arak. She took a pair of scissors from the supply cabinet next to the pod and snipped a hole in Arak’s smartsuit, just below his left shoulder joint. She then cut down the outside curve of his arm. As she got close to his elbow, he bit his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood.

  “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” Rhken asked.

  “Please, go, make it quick.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said and continued cutting.

  She worked as quickly as she could and then began to pull the suit away from his arm. When Arak saw the splintered bone poking out of a blood red hole in his elbow skin, his face turned white and he felt as though he might throw up. Rhken put a hand on his chest to steady him and said, “Hey now. Just a moment and we’ll get you fixed up, okay?”

  Arak nodded. Rhken affixed the final two straps. One over Arak’s left bicep, and the other over his left wrist.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  He nodded again.

  Rhken activated the gurney. It lifted itself vertically into the medpod and the door slid closed. It sealed with an almost inaudible hiss.

  ‘Please advise of injury area,’ said an automated voice from the medpod.

  “Left arm. Elbow joint. Possible damage in both upper and lower arm stemming from violent dislocation. Also, broken cheekbone,” Rhken said.

  ‘Commencing diagnosis’

  The medpod began to fill with oxygenated liquid. The liquid also contained a heavy sedative and painkiller. As soon as the liquid reached Arak’s lungs he would fall into a deep sleep and would not awaken until the procedure was complete.

  ‘Procedures will occur as follows; muscle and ligament tearing will be repaired. Compound fractures will be repaired and set. Destroyed cartilage will be replaced with synthetic alternative. Possible nerve damage has occurred and will be repaired if possible. Sunken cheekbone will be reconstituted and set. Commence procedure?’

  Arak nodded.

  “Commence procedure,” Rhken said.

  Reban reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped down into the heart of the Icarus. A single dim green light illuminated the small room around the central control pillar in the middle of the room. Reban walked slowly into the small room and wondered just where in the ship she was. They would have to be underneath the cargo hold, and just next to the containment cells.

  Veck reached the bottom of the ladder and laughed. His laugh sounded very loud and very close in the tiny room.

  “This room was not on the schematics of the ship,” Veck said.

  Reban wondered how Veck had gotten his hands on the schematics to the ship but dared not ask. She stood against the wall next to the control pillar and waited for Veck to do something. She had no idea what this room was even for.

  Suddenly a blue light began to shine out of the floor panel in front of the control pillar. The light formed itself into a hologram of a man that looked almost exactly like Captain Goldwing. The hologram turned and saw Veck Simms approaching.

  “Samuel Goldwing,” he said with a smile.

  “My, my. Young Veck Simms. It seems you’ve grown up,” the hologram responded.

  “More than you could ever know.”

  Reban’s mind raced. How in the world could Veck have any connection to this ship, let alone a connection to someone in the Goldwing family? Had this been planned from the start? Reban desperately wanted to say something, but she found herself unable to find the courage to speak.

  “What happened? Is Draco back on board the ship yet?” the hologram asked.

  “No, I’ve taken command of the ship for now. Your son is in grave danger, and we need to do everything we can to rescue him. But we don’t have enough firepower.”

  “The young man from before, what happened to him?”

  “Killed in action. We were boarded, but we managed to defeat them at great cost. There are more ships on the way, and we need to get out of here immediately.”

  “Oh my. I did like that young man. He seemed like a very capable pilot. What a pity.”

  “Yes, we all mourn his loss,” Veck said and scowled at Reban.

  She wanted to say something. Anything. Arak wasn’t dead, but Captain Goldwing would be stranded if they left him behind. She tried to gather her courage to say something, but nothing more than a squeak left her lips. Tears welled over her eyes again and she held her head in her hands.

  “Oh dear, he was a good man. From what I saw, anyway. My young dear, we’ll have you out of here very quickly. Did the young man tell you about the gravity drive before he perished?” the hologram of Samuel Goldwing asked.

  Veck grinned wolfishly. “No. No, he did not.”

  “I’m afraid the gravity drive requires approximately an hour to warm up. Tearing an unstable hole in the fabric of space and time does take an awful lot of power.”

  “Can we engage the gravity drive from the main control console?” Veck asked.

  “Not normally, however I do believe I could route the controls up there if you’d like. When the display shows that the gravity drive is fully charged, set a course for where you wish to travel.”

  “Excellent. Have the controls been routed to the main control console?”

  “Yes, it is done. But remember, you need to speak the activation phrase to engage the gravity drive.”

  “I’m afraid the pilot didn’t pass the phrase onto me. Could you tell it to me?”

  “Of course, son. Once the drive is powered up and you’ve set a course, speak
the words ‘and I will fly again’ aloud.”

  “Thank you, Samuel. It has been good to see you, but I am sorry,” Veck said.

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “Firstly, your son will likely be dead within the next few hours and I am not going to attempt to rescue him,” Samuel’s blue holographic face was twisted by confusion and grief, then flickered out of existence. “I’m also sorry for that.”

  “What did you do?” Reban asked.

  “I deleted him,” Veck said and tapped the side of his head.

  While he was talking to the hologram of Draco’s father, he used Evie’s security protocols to find out where the hologram was stored within the ship’s memory banks. Veck then sent the entire security force to delete Samuel’s avatar from the memory banks completely, just as he had done with Evie.

  The ship was now his, and he had a means of escape. All he needed to do was wait.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The hope of survival inspired everyone to take up arms. Vynce thought that he would have trouble convincing the more recalcitrant passengers to leave the medstation, but there were very few people who were content to sit and wait for the inevitable. And even those who were willing to sit and wait for the infection to take them were more easily swayed than Vynce had anticipated. He had no idea what Jaxon said to them to get them moving, but whatever it was, it worked.

  The head count Vynce did put their numbers at approximately one hundred and eighty people. He had missed some, and some he had counted twice, but one hundred and eighty people armed with what guns they had would be enough to put up a hell of a fight. But if what Draco had said was right, it would be a straight shot to the hangars without any problems.

  Every child was partnered up with an adult, and every person with an injury was paired up with a protector with a weapon. There were some people in wheelchairs and some on crutches, but everyone banded together and made sure that no one was forgotten. Those who could walk, walked. Those who could carry a weapon carried a weapon. People grabbed surgical tools like bone saws, scalpels and plasma cutters from around the medstation when they couldn’t find anything else.

  “Grab as many rations as you can! Even if we make it off this ship, we’re in for a long trip before we get to the nearest gateway. We need to be prepared!” Jaxon said to a group of people gathering supplies from the storeroom.

  “Medical supplies, too. Lots of medigel. Grab as much as you can carry,” Vynce added.

  In a matter of minutes, the supply cupboards were empty. A man in a wheelchair rolled along next to Vynce with a rifle across his lap and smiled as he passed.

  Jaxon had quiet words with a grey-haired man who was crying into his hands. The man nodded and wiped his bleary eyes on his sleeve. He nodded again and Jaxon clapped him on the shoulder. The man stood up and found something to arm himself with.

  Vynce walked over to Jaxon amongst the hubbub and asked, “What did you say to that man?”

  “I told him that he was going to die, so why not die protecting those who could live out their days?”

  “He’s infected?”

  “Yes. When we reach the evac shuttles we’ll need to scan everybody. Anyone who has signs of infection cannot leave this ship, alive or dead.”

  “Agreed. But how the fuck can we be sure? I mean we didn’t know Ava was infected until she started showing signs.”

  “I don’t think it will be a problem. Doctor Harris has it covered. Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  Jaxon and Vynce broke apart. Vynce went to check on Doctor Harris, who was coordinating the medical supplies. Her terminal recorded what medical supplies they had, and who carried what. When she saw Vynce approach, she waved him over.

  “Once we get to the shuttles, I’ll give this over to you. There are a number of people who’ve had basic medical training, and you should make sure two or three of them are on each shuttle. I’ve linked their profiles here,” she pointed to a folder marked medical personnel, and tapped the folder to open it.

  “These people are the important ones. The uninfected ones. You’ve got Doctor Fewster here,” she said and a profile of a man with olive skin, short cropped black hair and a trimmed goatee slid in to fill the screen, “He’s a hero. He’s the reason we got to this medstation in one piece. You want him to choose a couple of nurses to go with him on one of the shuttles. If he makes it out of this alive, you see he gets a medal.”

  “Doctor Fewster. Gotcha, although I don’t know if I have the power to give anyone a medal,” Vynce said.

  “And this is Doctor Cooper,” she said and swiped Doctor Fewster off the screen. Doctor Cooper was a young woman doctor with brown hair, almond shaped eyes and porcelain white skin. “She may look young, but she’s better than I was at her age, and she’s got a passion for saving lives. You want her to run your second team.”

  “Noted. Do you know the hangar we need to get to?”

  “Yeah, I know it. That’s where our own medical shuttle is stationed for when we go planet-side for supplies. It’s a big hangar. Lots of shuttles. I’m sure you’ll find a couple that are still working. And don’t worry. I’ll be there with you right until the end. I’ll lead you to where you need to go.”

  “You know it’s a one-way trip?”

  “I know. It’s been a one-way trip for me since I got squirted with infected goo. I slowed it down some, but it’ll come for me one way or another soon enough. And to be honest, I’d welcome the rest.”

  She put her arm on Vynce’s shoulder, but Vynce pulled her in close and hugged her. She resisted stiffly at first, then relaxed and returned his embrace. When they pulled apart Vynce she turned away quickly and hurried back into the operating theatre.

  She came back out wearing a modified diagnosis glove. It wrapped around her arm to the elbow. There was a sophisticated sensor module in the palm that could be calibrated to detect a number of medical ailments. On the top of the forearm there was a touch-screen display which would show results about whatever the doctor was scanning for.

  “I’ve calibrated it to detect the infection,” Doctor Harris said and held the palm of the glove on Vynce’s shoulder. It beeped once, and a message flashed in green on the screen.

  No infection.

  Doctor Harris placed the glove on her own shoulder and initiated the scan. A message flashed on the display in purple.

  Infection present. Initiate quarantine protocols.

  “No one is getting on board those shuttles unless they pass my infection scan, do you understand?” Doctor Harris asked.

  Vynce nodded.

  “If anyone who fails this test tries to board one of your shuttles, you shoot them. You kill them, and you promise me that your conscience will remain clear. If they’re infected, they’re already dead. They just don’t know it yet. You promise me that you will kill anyone who tries to board a shuttle out of here, or you give me a gun and I’ll do it myself.”

  “I promise you,” Vynce said.

  Jaxon was the first to leave the medstation. Of course he was, Vynce thought. The hero led the charge. Jaxon opened the door with his rifle held to his shoulder, but there was no need. There were no infected passengers or other overgrown monstrosities lingering in the streets. As he left the medstation, a column of survivors followed him out. They stuck close behind him. Ava was right behind Jaxon. She wore her armor again, but her shoulder guard lay flat over the place where her right shoulder used to be.

  Doctor Harris followed up the rear to make sure that everyone had left the medstation, then headed to the front of the column once they were out into the streets. She still wore her doctor’s coat and diagnostic glove, but now she had a shotgun holster slung across her chest as well.

  She joined Jaxon and together they led the column of survivors down a wide street back into the Residential District. Vynce was the first to see one of the infected passengers loitering by the side of the road. It stood on a stoop of an apartment, drooling a cascade of goopy red liqui
d that ran down the steps in front of it.

  “Infected on the right,” Vynce said and raised his weapon at the thing on the stoop.

  Some of the people shrieked in terror. Some of them stopped in their tracks. Some of them raised their weapons. But the fleshling made no move. Vynce urged them to keep moving and they hesitantly complied. As they passed the fleshling, it watched them. After they had passed completely, the fleshling started walking down the steps.

  Vynce hung back until the rest of the group had passed and kept his rifle aimed squarely at the infected passenger’s head. It was a slower walker than the survivors: its right foot had grown out and over the top of its boot. Root-like fleshy tendrils grew out of the holes and tears in its boot and the leg of its pants, dragging it on the ground as it tried to walk. It didn’t possess the same desperation or aggression that the other infected had shown. It was just following calmly.

  Doctor Fewster joined Vynce and raised his pistol at the infected. His mouth was set in a thin grim line. His hand shook. Vynce put his hand on top of the doctor’s gun and lowered the barrel to the ground.

  “Don’t. They’re not being aggressive right now, but if we provoke them they may change that. Look,” Vynce said and motioned for the man to look at the street behind them.

  More fleshlings shuffled out onto the street behind them. They seemed to materialize from the shadows. They slipped out of drains and from in between buildings as silently as whispers. Vynce joined the end of the column again and kept his eyes on the infected procession. It quickly began to grow in number.

  “It’s Doctor Fewster, right?” Vynce asked.

  The doctor nodded.

  “Well doc, how would you feel about watching my back?”

  “You got it.”

  “Have you ever seen them act like this?”

  “Never. Whenever one of those things sees you, you either draw your gun or run for your life. Neither option usually ends well, because there are always more of them. Seeing them just following us like this is creeping me the fuck out.”