by William Cray
Open you mind to me.
Duran resisted at first, afraid that the form in front of him was the same as the others, but he soon recognized that the pressure slowed because the Other was with him now. He allowed the Other into his mind. Feeling the strength return in his legs, he raised himself up to his knees, looking forward into familiar eyes. The eyes were clear, bright and their intensity told him he was not alone, that he could fight the cascade if he would let them in. But it was impossible for Duran, the door could not open fast enough, time was against them now.
Duran surrendered to the voice with the eyes, letting the changes happen, allowing his horizons to be opened, the seeds of resistance being planted. He felt the strength and calm flow into him, stemming the tide. But before the new strength could take root, he found himself alone again. One of the dark husks rising from the floor, stood, turning towards him. The dark figure reached out with a brilliant light, tearing away the familiar eyes and sending Duran back into the darkness.
The cascade came again, and the temporary calm disappeared with the rush. The pressure returned in greater strength now, drowning the meager seedlings in blood. He couldn’t resist any longer. The images of torment and death returned.
He surrendered to them, giving in. Joining the husks. As he fell back into the blood-covered floor, he stared up at the twisted body of the most hated, looking down at him, laughing.
2 Martian Days prior to NOVA Event
11
New Meridian City
Hebes Chasma Trench, Mars
Duran rode in silence with James Floss as they crossed the city along the travelway lining the trench walls. Many of the magnetic rail sections along the travelway had failed and several lanes flashed closed, reducing the number of usable isles and jamming together the sparse traffic into one narrow pattern of crowded cars despite the vast open spaces of the chasm. It was infuriating to Duran who felt the pressure of time building within him.
Another sleepless night in the dilapidated room had been wasted after the confrontation with Celeste Von Heiden and the young variable girl, Kari. The young girl had been pointless as she spent the entire encounter staring at him silently. She had exuded an extra-sense similar to other accompli, but her abilities paled in comparison to the sophisticated mental penetration that Celeste possessed. The nature of Kari’s abilities was unclear, but in either case Kari seemed much less a threat than Celeste had described. Underestimating her would be a mistake, but Celeste, on the other hand, was very dangerous.
Duran had replayed the scenario with her a hundred times in his mind last night as sleep evaded him. Each time he felt disarmed and manipulated in her presence. He didn’t know the course he would have to take with Celeste, but there was no doubt that she would be a constant threat to him even if she were only an accompli. But she seemed so much more.
The Intruder, Duran thought, Celeste had given him that much. A human male. How had humans come by this power to dominate others with their minds, and why had they waged a terrible war against Earth? It was bad enough with Rokons squatting on the edge of human space, waiting for whatever it was they waited for, but if humans were responsible for the deaths on Earth, it was almost unfathomable. Their motivations for the occupation were never clear. It had to be more than power. They left behind giant giant shafts deep into the earth along the equator in Africa and Asia. There was nothing at the bottom of them. It never made any sense.
The few facts he did have supported the conclusion. Duran went over it over and over again. The Emperor had to know, even before the Vendetta. Thomas Anwar must have known the truth also. It was impossible to believe otherwise. Anwar was still days away and out of communication during deceleration as the team approached Mars. If humans were the Intruders, they could be anywhere. There could be thousands or hundreds of thousands still living across human space. No one on the team had ever reported the existence of an actual Intruder. Maybe they had been looking for the wrong thing. It was the easiest explanation. The obvious one. But it only complicated the situation.
Celeste could be giving him disinformation to delay him, but everything she said rang with an uncomfortable truth. She waited for him down in the trench, but he didn’t trust himself to be near her again so soon. She had offered to take him to the Intruder, an offer she had probably already made to Eric Hansen. He could continue to dance around the periphery of the girls in the hopes of gaining additional insight, but eventually all paths to the Intruder led through them, trap or not. He couldn’t skirt the issue much longer.
Until he sorted out his next action, he would follow more conventional techniques that could lead him closer to the Intruder and his intent on Mars. If he was dealing with a lone Intruder with purely visceral motives of revenge, then the most direct path through Celeste may be the best. On the outside chance this were a coordinated effort, the Intruders would attempt to amplify their reach by trying to construct the arrays and mind control devices that would be the first indicators of a larger Intruder plot. He would start his search for the Intruder machines there, based on the tracks he found in Hab-11 near Axe’s suicide.
Duran looked over at Floss as they headed towards the Port Authority to look at some records they kept on materials left over inside the domes after the Power Dome 3 disaster. Floss sat quietly as the car navigated the crowded travelways to the Port Authority, reviewing the police reports from the suicide yesterday.
The closer Duran got to the Intruder, the more of a liability Floss would become. Duran would have to make sure their partnership was ended. He wouldn’t even be safe around Celeste.
Floss was still trying to make a connection between the suicides and Duran’s investigation. If it weren’t for the dreams that kept him awake at night, Duran couldn’t see how they were related. Cole would want an update soon. He would demand Duran disclose the details of his mission. Soon, I will have to break from Floss and Cole, he thought.
“Unit Able five…respond TAC Two.”
Floss pulled down the armrest extending from the seat, dialing the cars com unit to tactical channel two. A new routing appeared on the map. It led to a series of corporate housing units near the mid-level northern chasm.
Floss responded to the call, speaking into his collar mike. “Able Five responding on TAC Two, go dispatch.”
The unflustered female voice replied. “Able Five…be advised…Respond hostage situation…COM Six, TacNet One Zero One Alpha.”
“Understood, dispatch…Able Five responding.” Floss replied.
Floss hit the onboard data info-board receiver, setting the TacNet channel to One Zero One Alpha. A moment later the info-board synchronized with the tactical information being transmitted by NMCPD units already on scene as well as the list of assets available for request. The initial image was a view of the target building from the front exterior, facing the trench. Outside of the building, along the travelway and catwalks several NMCPD units positioned themselves around the exits and into the trench running parallel to the building. The upscale condominium building was twelve tiers high with large balconies on each floor overlooking the vast open trench line. P-Teks began rolling out of the stationary police cruisers and taking up positions and relaying data, adding their sensors and recorders to the information available on the TacNet. Floss ordered the car to commit to the new routing and accelerated, hitting his black sedan's cruiser lights. The traffic surrounding them jinked out of the way as the cruiser accelerated.
“Why are we responding to this call?”
Floss began climbing levels to the emergency vehicle lane and punched it, following the directional cues that routed them along the most efficient way to the scene.
Floss made some manual adjustments in the cars automatic control system as they sped through the morning traffic, “They wouldn’t have called us if this didn’t have something to do with our case. We were detached from regular dispatch, so we wouldn’t have gotten a call unless the watch captain or Commissioner Cole approved i
t. TacNet indicates the call was made from the building security officer. Voice stress analysis authorized a surveillance camera in the subject’s apartment and apparently the security officer didn’t like what he saw.”
Duran nodded as cars in the lanes below them slowed to a stand still as Floss's black cruiser zoomed by. Tactical data began streaming real-time intelligence on the developing situation at the deHulmer Condominiums, relaying the position of NMCPD units, the building layout and the location of any unknown persons in the vicinity.
Surveillance in the apartment was offline, probably deactivated from within. The picture around the area was a patchwork of disjointed images, but more detailed information scrolled across the screen as more and more assets arrived on scene.
The N.M.C.P.D. Tactical Response Unit would bring infiltration and surveillance units capable of covering the entire building. The neighborhood would be tied into the security net, but according to the responding units list, it would be twenty minutes before the T.R.U. arrived and began to deploy. Duran and Floss would be on site ten minutes ahead of that. Until the T.R.U. arrived, police units would cordon off the area and secure routes in and out of the scene.
Duran evaluated the developing situation on his display. Arriving cruisers took up blocking positions around the building exits. P-Teks dismounted from the cruisers and led uniformed officers into the building. Live feeds began tying into the data net and Duran watched a squad heading up to the tenth floor where the call for help had originated. Stunned residents began poking their heads out of their apartments as officers checked ID’s, scanned for weapons, and then ordered them out of the building.
The first cyclo surveillance drone had arrived and began transmitting multi-spectral images from outside the tenth floor condo, hovering a safe distance from the room where the hostage situation was reported.
A suspect profile came up on the net and Duran selected it. The face of an average looking man with brown hair, green eyes in his 30's appeared on the monitor. His expression was kind and alert in the identification image.
The suspect’s name was Rachenko, Daren Albert, 3940 Oberon North, #1005, age 38, owner of the small condo unit. One additional resident, wife Asa Kornblat-Rachenko age 34 also appeared. A picture of the Rachenko's vehicle permit license ID appeared, as well as a copy of his criminal background, which was non-existent. Reported inside the apartment was believed to be his wife Asa and another unidentified woman who appeared to be brutally deceased. The call for help had originated from inside the condo. Sent by an obviously terrified woman. Floss selected the call audio and a woman’s voice whispered in horror, that her husband had gone mad and a woman was being murdered in the other room. Screams ended the call.
Daren Rachenko’s criminal report indicated he had been picked up but released after a raid at a Zone party a year ago. The on-scene drug screening showed him clean so he was released with a warning. No further information.
Duran switched back to the view of the hallway outside the suspect’s apartment.
There.
The image of a man in a dark, full-length redcoat walked up to the two NMCPD officers at the far end of the hall. The view was too far away to reveal the faces of the officers, but the two cops slowly lowered their weapons, letting the man pass without checking his ID or confronting him in anyway. Duran watched as the two officers seemed to shake their heads. One leaned his hand against the wall. The man had passed them unchallenged. Duran checked the other views in the hallway. The same thing happened again near the elevator as the man was stopped by two more responding officers.
Duran almost jumped out of his seat. “How long?”
Shocked by the sudden outburst, Floss looked at the scrolling map displayed on his windscreen, “Two minutes.”
Duran began stripping off his coat and tie, almost ripping off his white dress shirt. He swiveled his seat to the back of the sedan and pulled his L-Bag to him, releasing the flaps and pulling out equipment.
He removed the info-board and slid in to a soft pouch on the upper back of his black tactical vest. Next he ran the data connection into the vest antenna, then to the relay on the vest info-board. He finished pulling off his dress shirt then pulled the vest over a gray undershirt. Duran could see Floss watching him out of the corner of his eye as he geared up.
Duran closed his eyes for a second, synching his combat systems. He turned to Floss. “Can you get me to the top floor?”
Floss looked at him with disbelief, “What? In this car?”
“Yes.”
“No way. You'll have to wait for a lifter.” Floss replied. “The mag lifts can’t get us that high.”
Duran cursed under is breath as he continued to connect up his lightweight tactical rig, pulling on a pair of reinforced aviator style gloves with the fingers cut out. Floss slowed as he approached the Oberon tunnel, taking manual control from the cars auto-drive. As they pulled up along the exterior of the condo on the open trench side, Duran felt the first tingling. The sensation swept over him and grew stronger the closer to the building they got, filling his mind with an ambient distraction. It was the Intruder presence. It was distant, but unmistakable. His stomach churned at the power.
Using his mind as a compass he closed his eyes and let the feeling fill the surface of his thoughts, trying to sense direction or intentions, but he was still too far away. Duran pointed up. “Can you get me on that balcony, Lieutenant?” Duran pointed to the tenth tier of the building as it came into sight.
“I don’t know what you are planning on doing Agent Duran. This isn’t our crime scene.” Floss retorted. “N.M.C.P.D. has jurisdiction on this one and it looks like they have things under control. The tactical unit should be here within minutes.”
“No time. Tell them I'm taking charge, Commonwealth Jurisdiction, M.C.E.” Duran barked.
“What? It doesn’t work like that. If I call that in I have to have a damn good reason.” Floss replied.
Duran continued to pull specialized equipment out of his bag, connecting it to his vest, and info-board. “Tell them there is a suspected terrorist in the building and I want all police units to pull back.”
“Pull back? There’s a hostage situation going on. We need to reinforce. If there's someone in there we need to seal the building off!”
Duran took a moment; still trying to maintain his razor thin cover story but knowing it could already be too late, “Tell them that there could be a terrorist virus carrier in the building. Any contact within one hundred meters could trigger a dispersant, the entire building could already be contaminated.”
“How do you know that? They won’t back off with a hostage still in there.”
“I’ll take care of it. Tell them now, BACK OFF!”
Floss shook his head “All right, but this is on you Duran.”
“Now get me on that balcony.”
Duran made the final mental connection from info-board to the data bus at the base of his skull, tying the array of equipment to his central processor and eye filament displays. Duran ripped open a packet of bio-gel with his teeth, slapping the patch at the base of his neck. Duran felt the rush as the nanomachines in his body sensed the change and began dumping massive quantities of hexadrine and stimulants into his system.
The Talon hummed to life as his internal processor linked the ballistics of the guns ammunition into his fire control system. Duran selected a blunt nose, low velocity soft tip round. The bullet revolved silently into the firing chamber.
READY
Floss maneuvered the car manually, tying into the electro magnetic lift generators lining the skyway. He slid the car under the tenth story balcony, about three stories below Daren Rachenko's suite. As he did so, Duran did a quick check of his systems, dialing into the tactical command frequency and the data net frequency. A moment later the tactical data net information was displayed on his eye filament along with the firing data from his holstered Mag-gun. Duran tried to slide open the door as the car hovered over the d
eep chasm below, but the door held firmly in place.
“Can you open the door?”
“No. Safety locked.” Floss yelled. “What…you’re going out there?”
Duran yanked the vermiform knife out of his vest and pressed a catch on the handle with his thumb. With a quick violent motion he jammed the glowing hot blade up to the hilt through the plastic windscreen on his side of the car. With a broad ripping motion he carved out a hole in the window. The smell of burning plaz and the cold of the outside atmosphere flashed the cars interior with a dense fog as the divergent temperatures merged.
“Fuck Duran! What the hell…”
Duran smiled as he reared back in his seat, raising one foot into the air in front of the wounded window. “Sorry about your car, Flossy.”
Duran crashed his right foot through the window with the powerful snap of legs used to high gravity, creating a jagged hole in the right side of the car. Duran took a handhold on the doorframe as he leaned out, half a kilometer above the Reserviour below him. With a heave he was gone, pulling himself up onto the roof of the hovering car.
Duran looked back through the windscreen at Floss as he crouched on the roof of the cruiser. He could see Floss cursing inside the copula, until his com unit beeped.
“All units this is Lieutenant Floss, LTC. Be advised…Ministry of Codes and Enforcement is taking command of the crime scene. You are ordered to pull back to the exterior of the building and await orders.”
The sound of the cars generators straining to hold the magnetic bonds spun up to full power and drowned out the chorus of angry responses. Duran thought he could hear the foul mouth of Captain Delk as the car strained against the Martian gravity and began to rise. Reaching into his vest he grabbed a small thumb sized cylinder from a front pocket and held the device in his left hand as he stood up on the roof of the roaring car. His lungs heaved in the cold. Staring down he could see the stair-stepped organization of the city below him along the trench wall. If he were to fall, it would be a long slow drop down, but fatal none-the-less. Floss looked up at him concerned, managing the car with the steering column all the way back, full power to the three tiny generators grabbing for the skyway grid, but that was it. The car wouldn’t rise any further, still one tier short of the tenth floor.