by Larkin, Matt
Someone injected something else into his arm.
Wave after wave of dizziness swept over him until he wanted to vomit, but dared not because of the angle they’d tied him at. He could well choke on his own bile. Instead, it scorched his throat.
He faded out of consciousness.
It was impossible to say how much time had passed when he woke again. A new man stood in the room, this one wearing a hooded coat, the same gray as the scientists.
“Ezekiel Knight. Welcome.”
Knight had heard that voice before. The man’s face was shrouded in shadow, but he’d seen it, too. Galizur. Rachel’s contact at Quasar Industries. So, was it QI and not the Lazarus Group who held him?
“I know you can hear me, Mr. Knight.”
No. These people fought like the Lazarus Group, using those same weapons. Which meant either Galizur was working with Lazarus, or … he was one of them all along. One of their leaders, by the way the other scientists deferred to him.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. The experiments must have been very uncomfortable.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, I want to see if my investment in your parents was worthwhile. Do you know where you are?”
“Some facility belonging to the Lazarus Group.”
The man smiled and walked back into the shadows. “That’s right. Did you know we designed Gideon Knight in the room just below here? That was the easy part, of course. It was more effort ensuring he met Shahana, ensuring they had a child. You.”
His parents? What the void? Knight tried to shake his head to clear it, but the restraint bound. Instead he blinked. A lingering fire still ran through his muscles and his brain felt like they’d tried to liquefy it.
“I never even knew my parents. They died when I was very young.”
“Yes. But I knew them. I knew them both. In fact, the Lazarus Group has been studying your bloodline for seven generations, Ezekiel.”
“My name is Knight.” He tried to make it a growl, but it came out with less force than he’d like.
“As you wish, Knight.”
“This was never about Rachel … You were hoping to get me in that ambush.”
“Well, yes. I thought that much obvious. Ms. Jordan will be in custody soon enough. But you are a greater prize, Knight.”
Focus. Pain is in the mind. All human weakness could be compartmentalized, locked away. Mind over matter. Knight forced his eyes to clear and he locked his face on Galizur.
The son of a bitch was smiling. “Impressive. Do you know why you can do that? Did you think it was merely a matter of Gibborim training? If that was the case, then why were you better at it than most of your comrades?”
“I look forward to telling Rachel I broke you in half.”
“Yes, yes. But before that happens, perhaps we could have a civilized conversation.”
Knight chuckled. “You’ve abducted and tortured me. And you want a conversation. Fuck you.”
Galizur spread his hands. “So be it. I thought you wanted answers.”
“What do you want from me?”
The man stepped back into the light and met Knight’s gaze. He had the uncanny sensation of someone boring into him. Like this man could see his very soul. Was Galizur a telepath? Rachel had never said that, but then he didn’t know if she would know it, either.
“The Angels created twelve Races of Man.”
“Eleven,” Knight said.
“The Angels made races suited for high gravity worlds and low gravity worlds, those who could survive in blistering heat or freezing cold. And they created Psychs, humans with limited psionic potential. Nothing to challenge an Angel, of course, but they expanded the human mind, advanced it millions of years. Still, each of these Races had limitations. Imagine a Race that might combine these traits. The twelfth Race, the Nephilim, was never fully realized. They were meant to be spiritual successors to the Angels themselves. Capable of achieving greatness beyond human potential. Capable of blending many of the traits of other Races and of achieving physical and mental heights beyond any others.”
“What are you saying?”
“The retroviruses we’ve been injecting into you are meant to activate dormant genes you already have within you. Did you know I sent Ms. Jordan to you in the first place? Waste not, want not, Knight. The more stress you were placed under, the more chance your genetic abnormalities would shine through. You already have heightened reflexes, but it could be so much more.”
“You …” Knight tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. They’d given him nothing to eat or drink since he’d been here. “… are completely off rotation.”
Galizur quirked a smile, then patted Knight on the cheek. “We’ve put a great deal of time and effort into your bloodline. Don’t disappoint me. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have to go claim the Ark.”
The Ark. Rachel. He wasn’t there to protect her. Phoebe might well be dead, too. Knight struggled against the restraints. He roared at Galizur, but the man just disappeared out a doorway.
Someone injected something else into Knight.
CHAPTER EIGHTY
December 4th
Our attempts to secure the Ark have been met with mixed results. By sealing myself on the bridge, I’ve regained control, but there are many threats aboard. More, I fear, than David can eliminate alone. I wish we had a way to reach Knight and Phoebe below, but any attempt at communication has failed.
Knight opened his eyes. There was someone in the room with him. Knight could feel it. It was more than the sense he normally had of such things. He could feel the man outside the room, too. He could feel the table in the darkness. He could feel the instruments sitting there. He could feel straps binding him, held by magnetic restraints.
He couldn’t see these things.
But he felt them all.
His mind focused on the restraints. He could brush them, sense their hold on his arms. He closed his eyes and pushed, and the restraints clicked open.
He fell from the inclined table and landed on his hands and knees. He felt it when the man in the room froze, then slowly turned to face him. Knight lifted his head to look into the scientist’s eyes, savoring the sudden horrible fear there.
The man ran for the door.
Knight launched himself at the table, grabbed a scalpel, then tackled the scientist. He rolled the man over and slipped the knife through his eye.
“Told you.”
Knight panted, the room spinning. He had to get a grip on himself. These fuckers had done something to him, but he was still Gibborim. He could fight through any pain, any torture. And people needed him. Now, finally, after so many years, he had something beyond himself to fight for. Rachel needed him. And so did Phoebe and the others.
He took two deep breaths, then patted down the dead man. He had one of those telescoping staffs in his coat. Not as good as a sword, but it would do.
Beyond, on a table in the corner, they had Knight’s coat and knives. He reequipped himself, and took a moment to catch his breath. He had no way of knowing where he was, or how much time had passed. Maybe less than a day, maybe more.
He rushed out and found a Lazarus guard roaming the halls. The man balked, as if unsure he was really seeing Knight free. In a heartbeat Knight had closed the distance. The guard tried to draw his staff. Knight cracked him across the face with his own.
He spun, hitting the falling man again on the backswing. The guard twisted around, flying through the air.
An alarm resounded through the hallways. Knight took off running. His legs felt supercharged. His heart beat so fast it felt it would pound right out of his chest. The hallways rushed past him faster than he had ever run before.
He burst into a room with a half dozen people in it. They had been sitting around a mess table and must have just jumped up at the alarm, based on the overturned trays of food.
They turned at his entrance, readying staffs. He was faster. He leapt onto a table and flipped
over a woman, slapping his staff into her spine as he did. The crack told him he’d broken her back. He tripped another man and snapped his weapon up to break a third man’s jaw.
Another guard charged at him.
And Knight could feel the staff in the man’s hands. On instinct, he reached for it.
The staff flew out of the man’s hand and into Knight’s. The man skidded to a stop, staring. Telekinesis. The rarest of all psionic gifts. With his mind, he pushed on the second staff, and it hurtled back at its owner. It struck him in the chest and sent him stumbling to the ground.
“You have to be the stupidest little shits in the universe to give me this kind of power,” he said.
He traded blows with the remaining guards. They reeled backward every time he landed a strike. Like he had the strength of an Anakim. He broke a man’s head and a woman’s sternum. More guards rushed into the room and charged him. He tore through them like they were training dummies.
With his mind he grabbed a tray and sent it soaring at a Lazarus goon like it was a discus. The tray hit the man in the chest and sent him flying backward. Knight downed two more men with his staff. The other Lazarus warriors began to cluster together, backing into a corner. They tried to hold him at bay, keeping their staffs held at length.
Knight leapt to a wall, kicked off it and landed in their midst. He rained blow after blow on the sick bastards. The fools and kidnappers who had injected him with viruses, tortured him with electric shock. All to see if they could unlock some Angel eugenics project to create super soldiers. It seemed to have worked. His staff crushed a man’s windpipe.
He ran from the mess hall, then paused at a massive window. It overlooked a city, a skyline of buildings as far as the eye could see. On the street below he saw more people wearing the same Lazarus Group coats. Like this entire city was under their control.
He ran to a console and tapped it. “Building schematic.”
A display flashed on screen, showing him a wireframe of the entire compound.
There. A parking garage. He could escape through there. But he was going to need a distraction. Always misdirect your foes. He scanned the schematic. Central cooling system.
Knight killed two more Lazarus Groupers on his way, then burst into the cooling system. A giant vent shaft ran up dozens of floors above him, and all the way to ground level.
They had given him telekinesis. He wondered how far it could reach. He’d heard those few Psychs with the gift could often reach pretty far. Rumors always persisted of Psychs powerful enough to tear a hover in half with their minds. Was that possible?
He reached a hand toward the fan at the top. He could feel it there. His mind could touch the shape of it, as though he ran his fingers over the rotating blades. He closed his hand, felt himself tugging on the fan. He yanked his hand straight down. Metal shrieked. The entire shaft bent, and the blade jerked free. It plummeted down the shaft, embedding in the fans below.
The metal caught and crunched itself together, the sound mind-rending. The shaft shuddered, and Knight ran from it. The coolant would build up inside, and with the fans doing nothing but kicking up sparks, sooner or later something would blow from the pressure.
All the distraction he’d need.
He ran to the parking garage and grabbed a hoverbike. No key. So how was he going to … He could feel the bike, too. Feel its engine. He prodded it with his mind and it started.
Damn. Almost enough to make him grateful to Galizur.
Almost.
Now time to show his gratitude.
The parking garage was a circular tower with massive glass walls. Knight drove straight at one, blasting through it with his mind. The glass cracked and fell.
He launched the hover onto the massive falling pane, then spun it, dropping onto the roof of another building. From there, he yanked the bike up and leapt to another building, and then down to the street.
Behind him, windows exploded out of the Lazarus building.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
I shouldn’t fear for Knight, he can take care of himself. And yet, I know he would have responded to my communications if he were able.
Everything unfolded before his mind. This must have been what it was like to be a Psych in the Conduit. Knight supposed he was a Psych, now. He could see the hoverbikes chasing him, though not with his eyes. He zoomed down another alley and back out to the main street.
A pair of soldiers leveled MAG rifles at him. He twisted and shot off in the opposite direction. MAG rounds zipped past him. He drove erratically, merging in and out of traffic to keep them from getting a clear shot.
Was this whole damn planet controlled by the Lazarus Group?
He had no idea where he was, but obviously he wasn’t still on Eden. Which meant he needed a way to get a signal to Rachel. She’d come for him. For once in his life, he had no trouble trusting someone else. He knew she’d come for him. It was an odd feeling, placing that level of trust in anyone. Sarah would be disappointed in him, call him soft. He was beginning to think it meant something else entirely.
He’d seen a tower to the west with a massive antenna. A communications relay, most likely. His best chance to send a signal. He angled around a hover truck and pulled the bike to a stop in front of the tower.
For a few steps he ran toward the back. He could scale the building and sneak in. That was the way he knew. Clinging to darkness, stalking the shadows, bringing death to the unsuspecting.
But these people had made something different of him now. Something else entirely.
Instead, he walked right through the front door.
A security alarm went off the moment he entered, and a guard moved for him. Knight landed a tight punch to the man’s chest, and he crumpled.
Another pair of guards leapt up from the front desk. How strong had he become? How far could he push his telekinetic abilities? Time to find out.
He reached out to the ceiling panel above the desk and pulled. The ceiling above them collapsed, burying the guards in rubble. A cloud of dust and debris washed over the room. Knight ran for the stairs. With the security alert, the lift was too dangerous.
He dashed up floor after floor, slowly realizing it wasn’t even beginning to tire him. What had these people done to him? He jumped onto a rail and kicked off to the next floor and the next.
Guards flooded the stairwell. Knight extended his staff, and they did the same. Had to be eight of them, but in these tight quarters, their numbers meant little. One thrust at him, seeming to move in slow motion. Knight sidestepped and slapped the man on the head with his staff, then jerked it back the other way to down another foe.
The stairs erupted into the chaos of melee. Guards swung at him. He blocked with his staff and leapt onto a rail, then jumped up another level while stabbing his staff downward to crack a skull.
His heart was beating so hard he was pretty sure it would burst if he kept this up. A human body could only take so much, and even if he didn’t feel tired, he had to be pushing his limits. If he still had any.
He ascended several more levels to reach the control room. The worker spun the moment Knight kicked open the door. He was barely a man, perhaps in his early twenties, eyes full of fear. The boy’s hands trembled as he reached for a button on his console.
“Don’t.” Knight strode forward and yanked him out of his chair. “Where am I? What planet is this?”
“G-Gadara.”
“What galaxy?”
“Uh, the Milky Way, s-sir.”
“Lock the door.” Knight shoved the boy toward it, and he did as he was told.
The Milky Way. It meant he was still in the same galaxy as Eden, and, he hoped, the Ark. He checked the date. Less than a day since he was taken. It felt like a lifetime.
“Mazzaroth personal access, Ezekiel Knight, code Shinobi 1275-L. Contact Rachel Jordan.”
The signal buzzed for a minute, but no response came through. She had to answer. She’d never abandon him … would she? He wa
s more than just her bodyguard, he was her friend. At least, he’d thought … before David. He shook his head. No, he was letting the tortures these people had put him through get in his head.
“Leave a message. Rachel, I’m on planet Gadara. I was taken by the Lazarus Group, and they’re closing in on my position. I need extraction from this planet immediately.”
Please.
“Mazzaroth off.”
He glanced at the boy, now cowering in the corner, then rubbed his head. His eyes hurt. Void, his whole damn body hurt. He could turn this building into a bloodbath of soldiers sent after him, but sooner or later, they would send heavier threats than he was prepared to deal with. What happened if the Groupers decided he was too much trouble and sent a carrier to blast this entire building into the void?
He could flee, hide. But then Rachel might not be able to find him.
He couldn’t fly a ship himself. It had never been part of his training as Gibborim. He was beginning to think such training would become his first priority if he ever got back to the Ark. Even if he could steal a shuttle, he’d still be trapped in this solar system.
It was like being stuck back on Gehenna, denied the chance at the greater universe. A prisoner of circumstance—ironic given he was now probably a Psych. Would it mean he could learn to navigate the Conduit?
None of it mattered right now. He had to leave this room. They’d know he was here, but he needed to stay in the building as long as possible. In fact, he was going to have to hold out for as long as he could. And pray someone was coming for him.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
In trying to change the universe, I have perhaps doomed myself to forever struggle against the greater part of humanity. I am trying to save them, but it is so easy to forget how much they have invested in the status quo. They fear the change I hope to bring them.
Another QI trooper fell, a pulse blast scorching his chest. David peeked around the corner. Clear.