Final Empire

by Blake Northcott

  “That’s the thing,” he said, exasperated. “I already did. I sent this shit up the chain of command, right to the Secretary of Defense. An hour later I got called into the captain’s office, and was told that I needed to stop investigating this or I’d be put on indefinite suspension.”

  I shrugged. “To be fair, China is out of your jurisdiction. It’s a little west of Brooklyn.”

  “Come on, Mox,” he pleaded, slamming a fist into his desk with a loud thump. “Don’t you see what’s going on here? Kenneth wants to be the top dog – he’s eliminating his competition. Anyone else who’s being worshipped around the world is on the chopping block. And he already has politicians shitting their pants because they don’t seem willing to lift a finger against him. They’re scared.”

  It was a definite possibility. They could be scared to move against Kenneth. Or, more likely, they could’ve been paid off to keep their distance. It wasn’t difficult to believe that particular scenario, since the loyalties of politicians (and their votes) have been for sale since the early 2000s. But that didn’t seem like The Living Eye’s style.

  “Maybe they worship The Living Eye,” I suggested. “Maybe some of them are part of this new cult?”

  “What? Like even people at the top?”

  I sagged against the wall. “Who knows? With Sergei Taktarov’s death leaving a vacuum, someone had to come along and fill the void. Maybe it’s Kenneth. It doesn’t seem like a stretch that at least a few of the policy-makers could be drinking the Kool-Aid. They might even believe he’s doing the right thing.”

  “But do you think he’s doing the right thing?” the detective asked.

  “No,” I said emphatically. But it didn’t really matter what I thought. I had a week to spend time with my loved ones, get my finances in order, and say my final goodbyes. There would always be injustice in the world: some caped idiot trying to kill another caped idiot, or start a cult, or turn an island into an evil hideout. Comic books had been preparing us for this insanity for more than a century, and as it turns out they were more accurate than any futurist could have predicted. And just like the monthly adventures of these heroes, their enemies were never truly vanquished. At least not for long. If The Joker or Kingpin or The Green Goblin went down in flames, another villain was more than willing to step into their shoes and wreak havoc, vying for world domination.

  What the comic books got wrong, however, was that heroes are not immortal. Superman and Wonder Woman never age with time, which is incredibly helpful; it allows them an endless clock to defeat their enemies, and a bottomless well filled with reboots and retcons and do-overs. I wasn’t so fortunate. My hourglass was running out of sand, and there was no slowing the grains from falling. And besides, there were plenty of stronger, faster, and more capable people who could take my place – actual superhumans with actual powers – and if they were willing to carry the torch and step into the role of ‘hero’, they were more than welcome. I needed some rest. I deserved it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said dully. “I don’t know what to tell you, Todd. I don’t have a lot of time left, and there isn’t anything I can do.”

  He let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, too.”

  Dzobiak wished me well on my journey and closed the holo-session.

  It would be the last time I saw his face.

  Three days remaining until stasis.

  “And take a big, deep breath for me,” my doctor instructed, pressing the cold metallic disc into the bare skin on my back, sending a shiver through my extremities.

  I let out a long, labored breath, halfway expecting to see a plume of cold mist billow from my lips. It was freezing cold in the small basement infirmary, and being shirtless wasn’t helping either my body temperature or my mood. I had a migraine as well, made worse by the incessant ping of my wrist com, chiming with incoming calls and meeting reminders.

  “Is this going to take much longer?” I asked, trying not to sound as grumpy as I was. It came out sounding like a whine.

  “If you hold still and stop complaining it’ll go much quicker,” she said with an artificially cheerful tone. “And when we’re done you can have a lollipop.”

  “Ha, ha,” I said dryly.

  She circled around in front of me, plucked a small metal pen from the pocket of her lab coat, and illuminated a blue light at its tip. “Ahhhhhh…” she said, letting her jaw hang open.

  I followed her instructions. She hummed and hawed as she inspected the inside of my mouth, and I heard the infirmary doors whoosh open at my back.

  “Damn!” a voice called out from behind me. “You need to tone up, Mox. Hit some free weights or so dome Jazzercise or something. You don’t wanna come out of the freezer with those pasty white love handles.”

  Steve.

  Fucking.

  McGarrity.

  “I’ll be right back with your results, Mister Moxon,” the doctor said, tossing my t-shirt on my lap. She turned and exited the room.

  “What do you want, Steve?” I pulled my shirt over my head and slid down off the metal table.

  “I know you wanted to talk to me, so…”

  I glanced down at my wrist-com, just to confirm my suspicion. “We had a meeting scheduled tomorrow,” I groaned. “Today I have to prep for stasis. I’ve got back-to-back appointments all day.”

  “Ahh, damn!” He smacked himself on the side of the head. “I knew something was off about today. Like today sort of felt like tomorrow…you know?”

  I was already having reservations about the conversation I needed to have with McGarrity – about the monumental favor I was going to ask of him. He wasn’t instilling me with any great deal of confidence.

  “Yeah, okay…sure,” I replied. I offered him a metal stool and sat across from it. “Now that you’re here, we might as well do this.”

  “Cool.” He sat down and brushed a mane of disheveled blond hair from his eyes. “Hit me.”

  “This is hard for me to…” I trailed off, squeezing my eyes shut. I started over. “I’m not the best at asking people for help…but I need you to do something for me while I’m frozen. I need you to keep an eye on things around here. Especially on Brynja.”

  He cocked his head. “If there is anyone that B doesn’t want hanging around, it’s yours truly. Trust me.”

  “Well she doesn’t have a choice,” I said flatly. “I don’t know what Kenneth is up to, or what his endgame is, but it’s becoming clear that he’s hunting down superhumans. And I already know he wants Brynja. You can’t let that happen. You have power…when it came to the superpower lottery, you somehow hit the jackpot. If anyone can stand up to Kenneth, it’s you.”

  “Obviously,” he scoffed, letting out a chuckle. “I know, I’m freakin’ awesome.”

  “I’m not fucking around here,” I shouted, causing McGarrity’s perpetual goofy grin to vanish. “I’m going to be in a freezer for years, and I can’t watch out for everyone. Peyton, Brynja, my family back in Canada – if someone wants to get back at me, they could target them. And I need someone I can trust to watch their backs.”

  His cheeks flushed, eyes widening. “You…you trust me to protect everyone?”

  I nodded. “I do. I know you’re the best person for the job. But no more drugs, no more all-night partying. When I’m gone, I need you to be the superhero that you already think you are.”

  He smiled, warm and genuine. It was an expression I’ve never seen on McGarrity’s face. “I’d be honored. No one has ever given me responsibility like this before.”

  “And no one ever will again if you screw this up,” I said without missing a beat. “You’ve have all the money and resources and training you need while I’m gone. You’ll be like Iron Man and Batman rolled into one. So I need you to man up and act like it.”

  His posture straightened, eyes sparking with confidence. “I can do this,” he assured me. “Really, I can.”

  I stood and extended my hand. He
took and pulled me forward, wrapping me into an embrace. “You’re my best friend, man – I was going to watch your back anyway.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “All right, all right,” I said, gently pushing him away. “I appreciate it. Just remember that I’m a button-push away from coming out of stasis. You screw this shit up and I’ll be thawed and ready to kick your ass myself.”

  “Aww,” he said with a broad smile. “That’s cute that you think you could.”

  I pulled my itinerary from my com and saw his name scheduled for a fitting with my weapons and armor specialist. “Steve, you’re needed in the main lab at seven. I had a custom nanotech suit constructed for you.”

  “Whoa! With thousands of those little bug things that crawl all over you, and create a suit made of—”

  “Yes, one of those,” I cut him off. “It’s bad-ass. I even had a skull logo imprinted on the chest for you. Now it’s technical, and will require weeks of training for you to completely understand all of the…”

  And before I could finish my sentence he was sprinting away, rounding the corner towards the lab. “I can’t wait to try this out!” his voice echoed, getting more faint as he disappeared.

  The man who I was trusting to protect everyone I loved was running towards a suit of armor like a kid dashing towards the tree on Christmas morning, poised to tear the wrapping paper off his biggest present. What McGarrity lacked in intelligence, he more than made up for with enthusiasm. While not the sharpest sword in the arsenal, I knew that the most irritating, brash, and loyal person I knew would be there when I needed him, watching over me and mine for as long as the job required. I could have done a lot worse.

  I’d assigned a small army of people to take over my affairs while I was away, and the last piece had fallen into place. No more appointments. No more meetings. And no more incessant beeping on this two-ounce handcuff that was perpetually strapped to my wrist.

  I walked out of the infirmary. On the way I dropped my wrist-com into a garbage can, smiling when it struck the bottom with a satisfying ping.

  Five hours remaining until stasis.

  The small subterranean room was designed for a single purpose: to house my cryogenics chamber. Nothing was left to chance. The walls, three feet of concrete and steel, would require a nuclear bomb to leave even the smallest dent. I had engineers reinforce it again just for good measure. I also had a bank vault-style door added to the entrance, ensuring only those with security clearance could gain access to me in my vulnerable state. Fortress 18 was completely cloaked, off of every known map and radar, so the chances of someone locating me were slim. I didn’t care – I was still going to adhere to my unwavering belief of paranoia being the best policy.

  Lab coats shuffled throughout the room, calibrating the chamber, checking the power sources, and ensuring the crystals were secured in place one final time.

  “Are you scared?” Peyton asked, her arms circling my waist from behind. I’d been so engrossed in thought I didn’t hear her arrive.

  “No.” I clasped my hands over hers. “Not that. I’m relieved.”

  “Relieved?”

  I turned to face her. “Because I’ve left nothing to chance. You and everyone else will be safe, our finances are secure, and my cryo-chamber has the best probability of giving me my life back.”

  “I’m going to miss you so much,” Peyton said, her eyes filling with tears. “I shouldn’t be crying…” she said, turning away. “This isn’t fair to you. You have enough to deal with.”

  I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close. “Hey, don’t be like that.” Then I said the same thing that everyone says when they have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen in the future. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  “I know, I know…” she sniffled. “It’s just, you can plan for every possible eventuality, but you don’t know. How could you? You said it yourself: it’s impossible to see the future. Not even a superhuman can do that.”

  “Outta my way!” I heard a voice shout, cutting through the chatter of the scientists and technicians who filled the room. Karin pushed her way through the sea of lab coats. “Guys!” she said breathlessly, “did you see the news?”

  “We’re kind of having a moment,” I said, glaring back with the fiery hatred of a thousand supernovas. “Can this wait?”

  “Well no, it can’t wait,” she shot back. “You’re gonna be a Popsicle in the next few hours, and this seems like something you’d wanna know now, and not like, ten years from now.”

  “Ohmygod,” I shouted, throwing my hands up. “What’s the emergency, Karin? What is so incredibly important that you need to tell me now? Who the fuck died?”

  “The Detective!” she blurted out. Seeing the color drain from my face, she swallowed hard, and lowered her voice. “Todd Dzobiak…he…in New York. They found him.”

  Within twenty minutes I’d gathered the gang in the conference room. They sat in silence, exchanging concerned glances until I brought up a holo-screen. It was a news report: Detective Todd Dzobiak, killed while off-duty outside of his low-rise condo in Brooklyn. He was reaching into his pocket for a key card when his assailant supposedly emerged from an alley, stabbing him to death. They’d apprehended the so-called suspect less than an hour later, and the police obtained a full confession on the spot. That’s it, open and closed. I’ve seen old re-runs of CSI that took longer to solve a case.

  “I know he was a good friend,” Peyton said, swallowing back tears. “I liked him, too.”

  “This is bullshit,” I shouted, slamming my palms into the glass tabletop.

  “I know you’re upset,” Gavin said, “but this is just part of life, man. When you’re in the freezer things are going to happen, good and bad, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t let this mess with your head.”

  “This wasn’t a random homicide. This shit was staged. It was a hit job.”

  “How do you know?” Karin asked. “I mean yeah, it looks kinda convenient, but this is New York we’re talking about. Not exactly the safest place in the world anymore, especially for a cop.”

  “Because of this.” I swiped open a message that the detective had sent me just thirty-six hours ago. It was a text document, accompanied by a video. I’d thrown away my wrist com and didn’t bother to retrieve the transmission from my server.

  Mox, I know you have bigger fish to fry, but I could really use your help. I hope you still have the satellite video I sent to you last week, because mine disappeared from my com. I think I was hacked. And none of my contacts at DARPA seem to know where the original went, so I’m screwed. This smells dirty and I know someone is covering for your boy Kenneth.

  You’re close with a shit-ton of politicians. I know that the mayor of New York is a close friend and you’ve gotten close with others. Tell someone. Anyone. He’s going to keep killing, Mox, I know it. He did it once and I have a gut feeling it won’t be the last.

  “Todd just wanted what was right,” I said, staring listlessly at his holographic message projected in the air. “He never wanted money or fame or recognition – he just wanted to make things better. He was a hero for all the right reasons.”

  McGarrity scratched at his hairline. “This sucks, but if you want revenge it’s already too late. They caught the killer.”

  I’d read the police report and seen the mug shots: “Detective Todd Dzobiak, stabbed multiple times by Eduard Gamburyan”; a skeletal thirty-three year old drug addict with bloodshot eyes and a ragged oily mane. Eduard had a rap sheet a mile long – mostly misdemeanors and possession charges – but nothing even resembling a physical assault up until that point, let alone a murder. Not to mention that at the time of his arrest he looked nearly comatose, pupils dilated, drooling jaw hanging slack. I had a hard time believing this rat would’ve been able to murder Dzobiak in that condition. From the looks of him, I was surprised he’d been lucid enough to even remain vertical long enough to pose for the mug shot.

  “Gamburyan
was a pile of shit,” I admitted, “but he was a pile of shit who could’ve never pulled this off. He was handed a knife, doused in blood and cuffed a few blocks from Todd’s building. I’m sure of it.”

  Brynja, who had surprisingly remained silent until this point, shook her head in disbelief. “Well if this drug addict was framed, Kenneth could have been, too.”

  Peyton scoffed. “Why would anyone frame The Living Eye? He’s already out there killing people. That senator’s poor daughter—”

  “That wasn’t him!” Brynja shot back.

  Peyton threw her hands apart. “Yeah, that we know of.”

  “Okay, okay – we’re getting off track, here,” I intervened. “Detective Dzobiak was my friend, and I’m not letting this stand. I don’t know whether Kenneth, or the US government, or someone else was responsible for his death, but something is going on here and I’m not going to rest until I find out what it is.”

  “So you’re not going into cryogenics?” Peyton asked.

  The last message that Todd Dzobiak ever sent was a plea to his friend. To me, someone he trusted, and was reaching out to in his time of need. I’d turned my back on him. I could’ve protected Todd, invited him to stay here at my fortress. I could have used my political connections to do some digging and find out what really happened in China, and if Kenneth really had been responsible for those brutal murders. Instead I hid inside my bubble, as I always did when things became too difficult.

  Maybe the reason I’d been so at ease with the prospect of going into cryogenics was that it was simply another level of isolation. A bubble within a bubble. Another way for me to bury my head in the sand and pretend that the world wasn’t falling apart all around me, and that so few people were willing to put themselves on the line to make an actual difference.

  I shook my head. “If I go to sleep now, I don’t know what kind of a world I’ll be waking up to.”

  “So what’s our next play?” Gavin asked.