Millennium Zero G

by Jack Vantage

  Dylan needed to lose his vehicle’s rear end. It was the only way to disconnect the snag. He braved on, pushed the power to maximum, and headed for the oncoming traffic. The line jerked taught and the sky-mobile pulled hard. The bonnet began smoking as the electric supplier fried.

  “Come on!” he yelled. “Come on!”

  The sky-mobile whimpered, screeched with effort, wiggled on the end of the line like a fish that knew it was caught.

  Then another mobile clipped the line.

  This time it pulled the Authoritarians inward, which released tension and provided room for Dylan to manoeuvre away. He sped into the first lane of the oncoming traffic, dodging a support pillar centre tunnel, and waved the rear end into the path of a small fast sports-mobile, whose grey bonnet arched like angry eyes. Its horn blasted, then bang!

  The back end of Dylan’s vehicle was blitzed. Its shrapnel showered behind. He felt the line give and watched it lodge into a passing support pillar. He swerved back onto the correct side of the sky-way, and viewed his mirror where the Authoritarian vehicle, caught by the line, circled the pillar like a yo-yo reeling in. Closer and closer it spun towards the pillar until it exploded into it.

  The second Authoritarian vehicle concussed sideward and out of control. It slammed into the ground at a hundred miles per hour.

  Dylan’s rear window had smashed. The high-altitude air stroked his head and fluttered his hair. He neither understood how he was still alive, nor knew what he was doing. It was like someone had switched on auto pilot in his brain, like someone else was driving. Lecodia was driving. He needed to breathe.

  His rear end was totalled and gone. The trunk storage space was mangled. He was glad it wasn’t his vehicle. Time was running out. He had to be quick. The sky-nav system showed that he was ten minutes away, which was a lifetime without her.

  Whatever was wrong with the sun was devastating, he could feel it in his bones, but the thought of Lecodia enslaved by the thugs was worse. It was like a terminal illness had overcome his mind.

  Life’s question had been answered for him, had presented itself serendipitously like a dark secret or the case he’d found. Love, it was love. He never thought it could happen to him. He was always interested in girls, but he never thought he could feel for one like this. It was like she was a drug and the withdrawal symptoms were starting. A cold, dejected rawness overcame the warmth that swelled when she was near.

  Panic penetrated his body again and confused his mind. All he could think about was her and that kiss back on the roof top. It was like she’d poisoned him, laid venom through her lips. He couldn’t understand the overwhelming sensation that coursed through his veins, like she was a pathogen and he the host. Love had dominated and taken control of his body and mind, all within a single day of the kiss.

  What will I feel like in another day, week, month, or year?

  He hoped to reach that distance, hoped to find her and live in love’s perpetual immunity. It was all he wanted, all he needed. He prayed for her safety, her life. Should she die, a piece of his soul would crumble and vanish like ash in the wind. He would never forgive himself, never let go of the mistake he made, never love again.

  It was time to be a man.

  Chapter 24

  Purity

  A grotesque threat of violation leered before her in the shape of Nexus. He sat with her face to face, his slimy smile seedy, his eyes wanting and eager.

  Lecodia was incapacitated. She could see him, could feel his presence, but a drug had overwhelmed her body. She wished it would overwhelm her mind, but the drug had left her awake, unable to move but able to experience. While traveling to Quazar she’d listened to lessons on the drug named X2O. It was used by evil men to snare women and their innocence.

  She would rather die than let this creature of vile intentions touch her, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. She was caught and held down, unable to free herself or retaliate, like an overpowering predator had pinned her down. Her rights had been stolen, her youth and beauty on the brink of damage. It was like Nexus had sprayed lurid graffiti over her feminine soul, tarnishing it, dirtying it, smearing it.

  His face was blurred, her sight affected. She could feel her head rolling back and forward, could feel her feet tied.

  “Nexus stop eyeing the bait,” Regan said from behind, somewhere.

  “Boss, can she be mine when he arrives? I have so much to give her.”

  “Leave her alone, you fucking pervert,” Regan replied, disgusted. “They’ll both die quickly when lover boy appears.”

  From somewhere, Timmy said, “Hey boss, I just got a read on him. He’s in a mobile about ten miles out. I’m tracking the vehicle he’s in. The Authoritarians are on his ass.” His voice echoed around the factory floor.

  Lecodia couldn’t make out his location.

  “Then let’s make sure he gets here. Come with me and we’ll follow him here, close him in, make sure we have him.”

  Lecodia viewed Regan, blurred by the poison, as he stood up behind Nexus. An old disused container stood beside him, Lecodia couldn’t make out its colour.

  “Nexus, hands off her. If you touch her, I’ll kill you myself. We’re going to make sure he makes it here,” Regan said.

  “It’s all under control, boss.” Nexus replied as he walked away from Lecodia and towards him.

  Both blurred men talked as Lecodia slipped into unconsciousness. Then things cleared again. The voices grew louder.

  “Don’t fuck up,” Regan said, leaving. His footsteps grew quiet and the sound of a door closing echoed through the room.

  Smaller echoing bumps travelled the floor of metal on metal. Nexus stopped beside the container. He was unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling his fake Authoritarian uniform up his arms. He dropped equipment and weapons from his assault vest onto the container.

  “I’ve been waiting for this special time to arrive. I thought I’d never get it. You know that time between two people that gets you so excited?”

  There was nothing Lecodia could do but sit and let her purity blacken like ink in crystal blue water. Inside she felt diseased. This thing before her was a rotten fruit that would spoil her virginity. She always wanted the first time to be special, with the right person, someone she trusted, adored, and loved. Not this thief of chastity, this mutilator of love.

  How could he do this? How could he break through the barrier of privacy with force and violence? If one man was like this, was the next?

  The thin layer of trust was ripping, tearing like paper under pull. Men turned demonic in her eyes, creatures that did nothing but lust after her innocence. He stepped closer and she could feel his smile of evil. He unbuttoned his shirt, which revealed an undernourished, bone-thin body. It was a blurry tan.

  “Do you like my body?” he sleazed with a feminine tone that shook with excitement. “It’s really soft and gentle, but hard and firm at the same time. It’s made for fucking.”

  Cherish the innocence, Lecodia. Cherish it, she thought.

  His body stood over her, his shadow of power covering her subdued soul. He picked up her hand and flapped it about. Then he guided it down his thinly haired chest.

  He moaned with over-excited pleasure, like he was in a state of sick rapture.

  Lecodia could feel his bones. His thin ribs bumped his body and she detested it. He moved her hand down over his trousers and his hard, puny penis.

  “A big man,” he said. “A very big man that knows how to use it. You’ll find out in just a moment; the secret is not to be hasty. You have to savour these moments.”

  He stopped the toying and moved behind her. She could smell his evil. Then he reached over her shoulder, floating it like he was conducting with his index finger. “This is my favourite part,” he whispered into her ear.

  His index finger extended, and he placed it under her chin. It was like he’d invaded her nightmares and scared even the bogeyman away, leaving himself in its place to torment her mind. He mo
ved his finger gingerly downward and between her breasts, which formed a handsome cleavage due to the club attire.

  Her nerves were shredding, breaking. There was no arousal for her, just vulgarity. No desire, just hatred.

  His finger moved to her belly button and exasperation livened inside her body. She was powerless to the demon. His finger reached her nicker line and the tip slid under. He moved it back and forth like a pendulum, floating over her tummy with sadistic arousal. A few inches closer and her most private place would be discovered, cracked open like a criminal would a vault.

  “You have to play before you start. It’s so much better if you play first. It gets me firm and you wet enough to enjoy what comes next,” he whispered into her ear with smarmy excitement.

  She wanted to vomit.

  “First I want you to taste something.”

  He pulled his hand away and walked around in front of her. He faced her and unbuttoned his pants at the crotch.

  “You’re a lucky woman. Not many get to see this old boy.”

  Click! And a power surge!

  Something blurred behind Nexus, a few metres away. There stood a figure. It was poised with blaster in hand.

  “Nexus, we’ve found his vehicle. He’s on foot. Stay alert. He could be near. We’re on our way back,” said a flustered Regan from Nexus’s communicator, which was tossed on the container with his weapons.

  Nexus turned around, hands in the air.

  Lecodia prayed for it to be Dylan. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his presence of good, his presence of love.

  “Put your pathetic pecker down, you piece of filthy shit,” Dylan said with pure hatred.

  “Caught red handed,” Nexus said, like it was a joke. “When Regan and Timmy find you, you’re dead for this. They’ll be back soon. They’ll tie you down, make you watch her get fucked all night long.”

  Dylan held his stance, unflinching.

  Lecodia could feel his presence getting cold like he was freezing over with murder.

  “And then they’ll make you watch her die and get fucked some more, and she’ll love it. She’ll moan and beg for more. She’ll say Nexus is the best ever and—”

  With cool composure, Dylan said, “Do you know what the difference is between you and me?” He twisted the hand blaster’s power setting to four bars and full power. It charged with a whine.

  “My dick’s bigger than yours.” Nexus laughed with demented spite.

  “Nope. I’m always a gentleman.”

  There was a buzzing sound as Dylan fired.

  With blurry vision, Lecodia viewed the rear end of Nexus’s bum vanish. His crotch no longer existed. The cauterised flesh around the missing area smoked thickly. He paced two rigid steps, his hip bones the only thing supporting him.

  Dylan fired again, and Nexus’s head disintegrated cleanly from his shoulders. His upper torso smoked. His dismembered body took two more steps before it dropped to its knees, then buckled to the floor.

  “Fucking perverts,” Dylan said as he rushed to Lecodia. “Lecodia? Lecodia, are you okay? I’m taking you to a medical centre, baby. Hang in there.”

  But the drug had overcome her. Dylan’s voice came to her from a great distance. Somewhere in her mind, she knew Dylan had saved her and she was safe in his hands.

  Thoughts of love began lingering. She pictured Dylan holding her hand at an altar as they took the vows of forever. Then she sat with him in a universe of flowers, and fields of stunning nature where he kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. She could see a life of love colouring like a painter would his canvas. How would things turn out? How would she turn out?

  Everything went blank.

  Chapter 25

  The Last Story

  Helena’s curiosity itched like there were a million ticks crawling under her skin. She’d been kept in the dark. No one had told the truth. She huffed again. Didn’t people know the unknown was like torture to a reporter? A million questions attacked her like a classroom of hyper-active children.

  She’d arrived on the Quazar space station’s network, where she was forced into a small office. A solid brown desk sat centre room, and a small library of scientific books circled its edge. Helena had tried to communicate on the desk communicator, but the line was dead. She cursed the bastards for her imprisonment, calling them militants and thugs.

  Then, like a revelation, it all began to make sense. After being frustrated at trying to learn the reason behind her abduction, she noticed a light through the small room’s window. She moved to it and gawped at the sun. It was like God had proved his existence. The sun’s mass was warped, being sucked at by an entity. It was too far to make out exactly what was happening, but the sun was dying.

  The sight from the window spoke a thousand words. Everything made sense: the carriers, the secrecy, the cover up. It took a while for the scale and scope of the situation to compute. The implications slowly dawned. She realised what the world was about to find out.

  She stared at the foundering sun and realised it was all over. The world would end. The size of the story was big, so big it had no figure. It was infinite. How would the government deliver that to the world?

  The door zipped open.

  “Helena Reeves?” an armed, black-suited security soldier said from his tiny helmet’s speakers. The tone was monochromatic.

  “Yes,” she replied, tired and worn from the confined fear.

  “Follow me. The president needs you.”

  “Me? He needs me? What for?”

  “Just come with me, ma’am.”

  She followed the security soldier into a passage that gleamed with cleanliness. The tiled floor appeared to be made of a glossy ceramic. She passed large rectangular windows that offered glimpses into rooms of experimentation. Helena viewed medical apparatuses within that shined silver chrome.

  The security soldier stopped her outside of a door. “Please enter. The president is waiting.”

  The door whipped up and before her eyes stood the president. Her breath nearly cleared from her lungs.

  “Hello, Helena,” he said. His voice sounded like that of a father talking to his child.

  He stood behind a black-glassed pulpit with both hands resting on its sides. In front of him, a camera crew were readying the image, framing the president and perfecting the angle.

  The stressed television director watched from a portable glass monitor, head phones covering his ears. “Come out a little,” he said to his camera man.

  The president said, “Guys, could you give us a minute please?”

  Obediently they exited quietly and quickly, leaving Helena and the president alone.

  He stepped away from the podium and eyed her with sorrow. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said gently. “I can see you know what’s happening.”

  Helena could feel the tears build behind her eyelids. Her throat puffed and strained as her body warmed. Slowly the tears rolled down each cheek with each blink of her eyes. Reality chilled her, like the wind on a cold winter night.

  “It’s all right,” he said, and he hugged her.

  There was nothing Helena could do. The gates of pain had opened. She sobbed into his chest. “When will it all be over?”

  “It could be almost any time, but much more death will occur. A chain of destruction will devastate the world before it freezes. The temperature has dropped a few degrees already and people have noticed the evacuation. It’s time to deliver the news. The last broadcast of Quazar.” He held her out at arm’s length. “We need to be strong.”

  She moved through the cameras, microphones, and broadcasting equipment. Her position was at a reflective black desk that was huddled by cameras and their long all-knowing lenses. She spotted her notes and reading research. She would have preferred time to prepare.

  Then again, she was going to report on their impending death. Nothing could have prepared her for the message she had to broadcast.

  “You will be intro
ducing me to the nation. Do not tell them what you believe you know. I need you to prepare them for what I am about to say. It’s not easy. I must tell my people that they are about to die. I need subtlety and care. I need them to remain in a state of calm.”

  Helena couldn’t understand how the president was holding it together.

  The president continued. “You don’t need to know anything until I explain the events. Please just read the words that are written. Be as sympathetic in your tone as possible and accentuate solidarity. We need everyone to see they’re in this commonality together. Subdue their panic, grief, and loss. I suspect many will turn murderous, animalistic, but let’s help as many as possible accept and embrace their fate.”

  “How long do I have to get it right?”

  He smiled. He could see she was the professional he needed. Her eyes had looked at the world from high above for a long time, much like his. It was like a bird flying the sky at the edge of space. She viewed the globe as the small rock it was. “Within the next five minutes if you can. Take a good look over the piece, compose yourself, and let’s let everyone know what is happening. I dislike lying.”

  “May I read it right now, sir? Get it all in context and uploaded?”

  “Take your seat. After we air, all broadcast stations will be rendered obsolete. Over the next few hours all communication channels and networks will be non-existent. Some have already been stopped.

  “Yes sir.”

  He opened a door and ordered the crew of eight people to begin the final broadcast.

  The thought that there would be nothing more turned Helena’s stomach. How could she tell the world it was going to end? There were no words that could convey the madness that was about to be unleashed. Pictures of the dying public flashed through her mind. Their anguish, pain, suffering, and misery all overcame her thinking.

  Her legs were barely able to hold her weight. She didn’t sit into her chair, she fell.

  The president looked at her. “Helena, if there was another professional on board the station who could do this I would ask, but you are the best person for the job.”