Project Hyperion

by Jeremy Robinson

  “If they can get me there, I can jump.”

  “Over the Bering Strait?” Joliet says, her shock finally catching up with her. “Onto a Russian island? It’s a small target, Mark. If you miss—”

  “They are our daughters,” he says, looking from my eyes to Joliet’s. “They might not have been born to us, but they’re still ours. I was raised by a man who wasn’t my father, too, and he would have given his life for mine. Would have risked starting a war to save me if he could. It’s our job to put them first.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. It’s a compelling argument, but being the Director of the FC-P means that I’m in charge of protecting millions of sons and daughters around the world.

  Hawkins leans in close and says, “You know what they’ll do to them if they’re captured, right?”

  “You should have led with that,” I say, and pull out my phone. A speed-dialed call to the U.S. President later, and the gears start spinning. Hawkins will reach the far side of the country around the same time the rest of us rendezvous with the big-ass something cruising toward the coast.

  11

  “The Dalai Lama said that sleep is the best meditation,” said a deep voice with a trace of electronic distortion. “He was speaking of dreams, of course, of how the subconscious mind can work through problems while the body and conscious mind slumber. It’s not really meditation, mind you, that’s a simple explanation from a simple mind with simple views of the world and the universe that surrounds it.”

  Maigo opened her eyes. A man stood above her. He was short and broad, with slicked back hair and a perfectly trained mustache. Dressed in an expensive looking suit coat, he reminded her of her father. But this man wasn’t her father. He was Zachary Cole, director of the Genetic Offense Directive. She wasn’t surprised by his presence on the island, but she was taken aback by his apparent collusion with the Russians. GOD was a black organization within DARPA. And while Hudson had tried to route the organization through his DHS and White House connections, GOD remained elusive. Now she knew why.

  “Not much of a patriot, are you?” Maigo asked and tried to sit up. Restraints snapped her back against a cold metal surface. Cold, she thought. They’ve taken off my clothes! She leaned her head up and looked down. Several pairs of handcuffs held her hands to the sides of a bare metal stretcher. Her ankles were restrained in the same way. She had been stripped to her bra and underwear, but most of her body was covered by a long black strap that had been wound around her and winched tight.

  “My loyalty doesn’t belong to any one nation, but to the human race. The future.” Cole leaned closer. “I wonder, what do you dream about?”

  Maigo lay her head back down and looked at the room. She was inside one of the domed prefab structures. It looked like a medical bay of some kind, stark white and clean. She couldn’t see any supplies. Wall mounted cabinets wrapped around the curved sidewall were closed. But the smell, and the stretcher she lay on, smacked of a doctor’s office, for healing—not the kind she had to worry about being dissected in.

  That opinion changed the moment the door slid open and a second man stepped inside. She recognized him, too. Dr. Alicio Brice. The FC-P had files on both men. Most of the information was from their own experiences, and the images of their faces were hand drawn, but she’d studied them enough to recognize both. Brice looked a good twenty years younger than the sketch.

  “Which generation are you?” she asked Brice. The original Alicio Brice had been dead for more than thirty years, but had been cloned multiple times, passing down his mental capabilities and knowledge to each subsequent generation. The first Brice had worked on Island 731, and he had been partially responsible for the monster known as ‘Kaiju,’ not to mention the Tsuchis. But his work also resulted in Lilly, her best friend.

  Brice looked confused for a moment, looking her over. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

  “Pretty sure the Brice whose memories you’re missing got blowed up,” she said, trying to mirror her father’s sarcastic confidence, which was often just a show. He’d never admit it, but when things got rough, he got funnier. It kept people off balance, not knowing if he was serious, afraid or just plain nuts.

  Brice smiled and ran a hand through his thick blond hair.

  “Hasn’t started falling out yet,” Maigo quipped.

  Brice locked his eyes on hers, looked ready to say something, but grinned instead and turned to Cole. “We’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Ready for what?” she asked, showing a crack in her confident veneer.

  “For you.” Cole folded his hands together over his belly. “We’ve been studying Atlantean technology for a long time, and while little has survived the ages, what we do have can be utilized only by those with certain genetic predispositions. My intention was to try something...less conventional, but your presence here makes that a risk not worth taking.”

  “You think I’m going to find the door in?” Maigo asked.

  “No, my little Kaiju friend—”

  Maigo sneered at the man.

  “—I think you’re the key to open the door. You have a unique genetic code—human, Atlantean and Kaiju, that could—”

  “How do you know what my genetic code is?” Maigo looked at her bound arm and saw red needle marks. She clenched her fists in anger, but maintained control, doing her own kind of wide awake meditation.

  “It’s what we do,” Brice said, looking a little sheepish. “Your DNA could help us control—”

  A look from Cole silenced him. Brice tilted his head in something like shame and took a step back.

  Maigo’s head swam with questions. About what they’d done to her. About what they would do with her DNA. But none of that mattered right now. “Outside...is that Atlantis?”

  Cole chuckled. “Good God, no. If you were an ancient alien civilization far more advanced than the indigenous life, is this frozen hell where you would build a vast city? No, this is where you would go to hide something important. As far as we can tell, Atlantis is in ruins, and even if it was found, it would be entirely unrecognizable.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was destroyed. By you. Well, not you exactly. More like your grandmother.”

  “Prime,” Maigo said, squeezing her eyes shut. She tried her best to look calm as ancient memories transported through alien DNA resurfaced. She remembered a city. The screams. Red eyes. And a face. A metal face.

  She opened her eyes and gasped when she saw Cole leaning right over her, staring into her eyes. “You...remember?”

  Maigo shook her head.

  “You do, don’t you?” He turned to Brice. “We’ve underestimated her importance. When you’re done here, sedate her and bring her with you.”

  “But Hudson,” Brice says. “You promised him—”

  “Promises are for presidential candidates and middle school girls,” Cole said. “The FC-P has proven itself irrelevant and woefully unprepared for what is coming.” He turned his attention back to Maigo. “Aside from you, showing up here alone. You felt it, didn’t you? Knew it was here? We had feared our intelligence had been intercepted, that the X-35 might be used to infiltrate Russian territory. God knows, your ‘father’—” He made chubby-fingered air quotes, “—is brazen enough to try it. But the island was empty, until your poorly timed arrival.”

  “Sir,” Brice said. “What if she’s not alone?”

  Cole squinted. “They would have come for her by now. They’re not without the means. Nor is this one.” He motioned to Maigo’s arm. “Best to keep her partially sedated.”

  Brice gave a quick nod, opened a drawer and started preparing a syringe.

  “The X-35 is out there, isn’t it?” He turned to Brice. “Have the men look for it. If you can’t find it, feel free to persuade her cooperation in the matter. Learning her...tolerances will be enlightening.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brice said, and he stepped through Cole on his way to the stretcher. The big man shimmered for a moment an
d rolled his eyes at Brice. Another hologram, Maigo thought. Cole rarely made in-person appearances, which given his work—creating genetic monstrosities to be used as weapons—the precaution made sense. How many Brice clones have they lost over the years?

  Maigo tensed as Brice leaned closer with the needle. Before she could pull away, he put a hand on her arm and said, “It’s only a sedative. It will make you sleepy, but not knock you out.” Then he winked. And it wasn’t in a creepy way, like he was getting his jollies from giving her an injection. The wink was conspiratorial. Like he wanted her to trust him. She didn’t, but she still wanted to see how this played out. She was gambling with her life, with her future, but that came with the job, didn’t it? Her life had stopped being a cakewalk the moment General Gordon had pulled her heart from her chest and triggered her transformation into Nemesis.

  The needle slid into her arm without a trace of pain. She watched the clear fluid slide into her arm. Then Brice withdrew the needle and stepped back, keeping his eyes on Maigo’s. “She shouldn’t be any trouble now.”

  He’s telling me to play along. But is this a game? Are they manipulating me?

  The only way to find out was to play along. She feigned sleepiness.

  Before she could test out her groggy act and try to get more information from Cole, he turned to the side like someone was speaking to him. Then he looked genuinely surprised by something. Concerned. “Yes, yes. It must be there for the triad. Let them loose.” Annoyance swept over his normally calm features. “I realize that, but there is little choice. Set them loose!”

  Cole steadied himself with a deep breath and waited for his face to fade to a lighter shade of red before facing Brice again. “Take care of this quickly. Things are progressing in Boston and Tokyo. We need to get inside, now. Understood?”

  “Y-yes, sir, “Brice said.

  “Do keep in mind that unlike me, you are very, very expendable.”

  “Yes. Sir.” Brice squinted subtly at Cole’s back.

  Was that defiance in his eyes?

  “Kozlov,” Cole said, and the door opened immediately.

  A brutish and scruffy looking man dressed in a parka and carrying an AK-47 stepped into the room. “Sir.” His Russian accent was thick.

  “Contact me the moment you gain entry,” Cole said.

  “Sir.”

  “And if you run into any trouble—”

  “Any incursion by foreign agencies will be treated as an act of war, and we will respond accordingly.”

  Cole nodded to Maigo, looking a little annoyed. “I was talking about her. If she causes any trouble, use the Leshiy.”

  The big Russian paled, but managed a fervent “Yes, sir.”

  Cole turned to face someone none of them could see, saying, “Leave Boston be. Focus on Japan.” Then he flickered and was gone.

  Brice cleared his throat and turned to Kozlov. “We’ll just be a minute. Then I’ll need a few men to carry her out.”

  Kozlov sneered at Brice, who apparently wasn’t normally in a position to boss the big Russian around. “The men are deployed around the island. It will take time to—”

  “She’s been sedated,” Brice said. “We need to transport her to the doorway at the center of the rings and allow her to make physical contact. It’s the only way we can get inside.”

  Maigo didn’t feel tired at all, and felt certain Brice’s words were really meant for her. But was it a trick?

  Brice took her wrist in his hand, the multiple handcuffs clanging against the rail. It took all her will power to not react to his touch. “She’s nearly ready,” Brice said, monitoring her pulse. “Four men, please. She’s heavier than she looks.”

  Kozlov grunted and turned toward the exit. It was as close to a ‘yes, sir,’ as Brice was going to get. When the door closed, Brice leaned in close to her. “Where are the rest of you? Are they on the island? In the X-35?”

  “You’re trying to trick me,” Maigo said.

  Brice shook his head, but it looked something more like a manic twitch. He looked genuinely nervous.

  “The injection was saline,” he said. “You got my photo? The stone. The symbol?”

  “That was you? Why?”

  “We’re born, sort of, with the same body. The same knowledge. But not the memories. Not the experience. We’re not all identical where it matters.”

  He rapid-fire tapped his head, and then his heart. “We’re not all insane, though I will admit we are genetically predisposed to greed and ambition. But some of us are not part of all this by choice. I sent you the image because I have seen what GOD does with alien DNA. They justify it because of what’s coming. Fire with fire. Monsters with monsters. But there is a point when we become the monsters, when we lose our humanity, when it becomes not worth the cost of saving it.”

  “So helping me is you saving your humanity?” Maigo asked.

  “You can understand that,” he said. “Can’t you?”

  She glared at him for a moment and then said, “Yes.”

  “I can set you free,” he said. “Give you a head start. But once they know you’re missing, you’re on your own.” He pulled a key from his pocket and reached for the first pair of handcuffs.

  Maigo lifted her arms, feeling a moment of resistance before the chain links stretched and snapped. She reached down and tore through the polyester straps like they were duct tape. Once they were loose enough, she pulled her legs up, breaking the cuffs around her ankles, and then yanking them off, as well as the ones on her wrists. She swung herself around on the table and hopped onto her bare feet. “I can handle myself.”

  Brice staggered back and caught himself on a counter. “I-I can see that.”

  Maigo looked down at her black bra and underwear. “Clothes?”

  “Uhh.”

  “Nevermind.” Maigo said. The cold wouldn’t bother her much, and the white lab clothes Brice wore would stand out even more than her slightly tan skin. “What’s a Leshiy?”

  “Russian folklore. The ‘one in the woods.’ The name was chosen to...intimidate our comrades, but it is somewhat appropriate, given the creature’s tendencies. It—”

  Maigo’s attention snapped to the door. There were footsteps outside. Someone was coming. “This is for your own good,” she said quickly, and then snatched Brice’s throat in her hand.

  The door opened and Kozlov stepped inside. “If we are to—” The big man froze for a moment when he saw Maigo, upright and clutching Brice. He reached for his weapon, but before he could reach it, Brice crashed into him and both men went down. Maigo stood over the two men, cocked a fist back and knocked the Russian unconscious with one well placed, and carefully controlled punch.

  She looked down at Brice, who was cringing in fear. “Thank you.” He nodded, and she started to step away, but stopped. “And if I were you, I’d let him wake up first.”

  “Right,” Brice said. He didn’t move.

  Leaving the two men on the floor, Maigo entered the hallway connecting two of the domed sections and opened an outer hatch. Frigid wind swirled inside, biting her skin. Then she stepped out into the darkness and snuck around the side of the building until she saw the three-ringed structure revealed by the explosion, now lit up by a circle of halogen lamps. She would glow like a road flare under all that light.

  Just get to the center, she told herself, repeating Brice’s advice. Make physical contact with the door. “Easy peasy, half-Japanesey,” she whispered, trying to channel her adoptive father again. Then she ran into the light, and all hell broke loose.

  12

  “Just like old times!” Woodstock shouts over the chop of Helicopter Betty’s rotors.

  I climb up into the passenger seat of the red Bell 407 holding a hard black case stamped with the Zoomb logo. I’ve never been a fan of the Zoomb name, logo or their personal history of meddling in secret projects, but now that I’m the primary shareholder with access to those secret projects and enough money to have a Scrooge McDuck gold-coin s
wimming vault, I’m learning to deal with it. In general, I try to keep Zoomb projects separate from the FC-P, but on special occasions, like when a space monster is swimming toward the coast of Massachusetts, I make exceptions.

  There will likely be blowback from my superiors and the military when they discover Zoomb has been developing anti-Kaiju weapons systems, but if it works, they’ll get on board. And then probably place an order for themselves. I’d like to say I can trust DARPA to develop these kinds of weapons, but there’s no way to know if GOD still has an influence there. I find that ‘Jon’s rule of thumb’ from my college days applies to government organizations as much as it does to women: if she makes you burn when you pee, let her be. Solid life advice I will never say aloud now that I’m married and a father, but Hawkins has heard it.

  I pat the hard case on my lap. “Not quite.”

  Collins climbs into the back and slams the sliding door shut. She’s seated next to an FN MAG machine gun that’s loaded and ready to go, but probably won’t be very useful. We should have upgraded the weapon to something a little more hardhitting, but with Future Betty, I didn’t think we’d need Helicopter Betty for combat again. The weapon probably won’t do much damage to what’s coming, but it can be a useful distraction tool, just in case we feel like incentivizing something to eat us.

  “Take us up,” I say, but I don’t really need to. We’re already lifting off the Crow’s Nest rooftop. My thoughts shift to the girls for a moment, worry clouding my mind. They can take care of themselves, I tell myself. Physically, they’re unmatched, but they’ve already proved themselves lacking common sense.

  As we head out over the open ocean, barely visible in the half-moon light, I turn my attention back to the task ahead of us. Something Kaiju-sized—but not Nemesis—is coming our way. And before we just let something new savage this already ruined stretch of coast, we’re going to, at the very least, shoot the shit out of it. At the most...I look down at the case in my hands...we’re going to field test the Swarm.