Necropolis 3

by S. A. Lusher

  There was no one in the tunnel with them, so they began searching for doors. Greg spied one across the way and began walking over to it. As he did, the voice resolved into something clearer and more audible.

  The voice was familiar.

  “Kyra?” Greg hurried towards the door.

  “Greg, where are you? Are you okay?” Kyra replied.

  Greg opened the door and stepped in. He found himself in a break room. Kyra was standing over a cabinet, an open medkit in front of her. She turned and hurried over to Greg.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as they met in the middle of the room. Campbell came in and closed the door behind her.

  “I'm fine. I was heading back but I got a little lost in the storage rooms. A lot of the exits were blocked or locked down. I finally found my way out and ran into a shitload of Rippers. I managed to kill a few but decided I didn't want to risk getting my ass torn to shreds, so I fell back in here. Tripped and smacked my head on the inside of my helmet. I was just finishing tending to it. Why are the radios out? I can't raise anyone but you two,” Kyra explained.

  “Don't know. We've only got short-wave,” Greg replied.

  “We should get back to HQ,” Campbell said.

  “Yeah, we should.” Kyra crossed the room, sealed the kit, clipped it to her belt and pulled her helmet back on. As they stepped back out into the main tunnel, all power failed. The lights overhead snapped off and they were plunged into a pitch-black, abyssal darkness.

  “Shit,” Campbell snapped the fear obvious in his voice.

  Greg groped blindly along his weapon, eventually finding the switch for this muzzle-mounted flashlight and flipping it on. Kyra and Campbell turned theirs on, too, as well as the flashlights built into the chests of their suits.

  “This just keeps getting better and better,” Greg muttered. “Come on, let's get back to headquarters and figure out what's going on.”

  * * * * *

  A feeling pure dread, of tense foreboding, like a premonition, struck Greg exactly as he was climbing a ladder that would take him to a storage room not far from the hangar headquarters. It hit him so hard he froze for a second, and then made himself keep going. Kyra and Campbell were behind him. They had seen no one else on the way back through the silent darkness. He wasn't sure what had set off the feeling, only that it was certain.

  Maybe it was the fact that the lights weren't back on yet, or perhaps it was that they hadn't heard from anyone else so far. Not even a whisper or a crackle of static. He reached the hatch, which was open. That didn't help his sense of dread.

  Greg hauled himself up and out, cleared the room, then helped the others out. They moved out into the main corridor. The large door at the far end was open. Greg felt his heart hammer harder in his chest.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  “Hello?” he called.

  His lonely voice was swallowed by the immense gloom. Greg swallowed and kept his rifle tight against his shoulder. He hurried, faster than he should have. Kyra and Campbell hurried after him wordlessly.

  Greg stopped as he came to stand in the doorway. He played his flashlight across the hangar bay, which stood massive and empty before him.

  “No...” he whispered.

  Everyone was gone. The ship was gone. The bomb was gone. Slowly, the three of them walked into the room, through the darkness. It was obvious that some kind of vicious battle had gone on. Bullet holes tattooed the walls, spent shell casings littered the ground, blood pooled. But there were no bodies, which meant one thing.

  The Augmented.

  Erebus.

  “Shit,” Campbell whispered. “Shit! We were so fucking close!” He kicked over a crate.

  A flashlight abruptly appeared on the far side of the hangar.

  “Who goes there?” a familiar voice called.

  “Mike?” Greg called. “It's Bishop, Mercer, and Campbell.”

  “Oh thank God!”

  They met halfway, standing in a room of empty, forsaken gloom that seemed to envelope and suck the life from them.

  “What happened?” Greg asked.

  “It was Powell,” Mike replied.

  Greg felt the pit of his stomach drop out. “What?”

  “Powell, your friend. He's been playing us from the beginning, I think.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Kyra snapped. “Powell's been solid the entire time we've been together. If he wanted to fuck us over, he had dozens of opportunities, back on Dis and on the Anubis.”

  “Well, he must have got a better offer. I managed to get everyone back to base, everyone but you three. We were regrouping, just getting ready to send out a search party to find you. Then the power, communications and air died. The doors opened. Drones came in. Dozens of them. They captured us, killed who they couldn't capture. They took all the bodies. I hid in the vents. I was in the other hangar when it happened. Everyone else was gathered in this one. Either they didn't find me, or just decided to leave me, for some reason,” Mike explained, his voice haunted and empty. He sounded hopeless.

  "How do you know it was Powell?" Campbell asked.

  "I heard him giving commands. I crawled through the vents, got a better view of what was going on. I saw him standing there like nothing was wrong as everyone else was taken. When they were done, he got onboard the ship and left."

  “They took the bomb?” Greg asked.

  Mike nodded morosely. “Yes. It's just the four of us now...”

  “Do you still have my jump ship?” Greg asked suddenly. “We came in on two, took one up to the Isis, but we should still have one left.”

  “We do. It still works. But...”

  “But nothing. We're going after the fuckers,” Greg snapped.

  Chapter 19

  –Orbital Sonata–

  While the power and most of the systems inside the headquarters had failed, the technology within the jump ship Greg had once ridden down to the surface of the planet a million years ago still worked just fine.

  They ran a quick BioScan of the area and confirmed their fears: they were the last four living people within the confines of the now two structures that remained. There was no reason to stay behind. After picking through the remains of the battle that had stricken the hangar and gathering whatever weapons and supplies they could, the quartet of survivors got onboard the ship and began warming it up.

  “Where's he going? To the Isis?” Greg asked.

  “No,” Mike replied, seated in the cockpit, looking over the controls.

  Kyra and Campbell were in the back, prepping their gear for war. Greg felt a cold hatred streaming through him. It made his vision clear, banished his lethargy and acted as a lens through which he focused with perfect clarity.

  He was going to kill Powell.

  There was no other way around it.

  “Then where?”

  “The abandoned space station. It's in orbit between the moon and the planet. I don't know what he's doing there, but the four ships under Augmented control are following. We should be able to beat them there by a little bit. They're going slow, for some reason.”

  “Blowing the engines must've fucked something up for Erebus,” Greg surmised after a moment. A soft chime filled the cockpit.

  “Okay, the ship's gone through its warm-up sequence,” Mike murmured.

  Greg thought he was in shock. They all were, he supposed. Greg nodded and left him to it, slipping back into the main cabin with the others. The jump ship began to vibrate and rumble gently as it lifted off from the deck, making for the airlock that would admit it to the exterior of the moon and ultimately to their destination.

  “I just can't figure why he'd do it, but I didn't really know the guy,” Campbell said as he checked out his rifle.

  “I guess none of us did,” Greg murmured, taking a seat. “We met back on Dis. He was always pretty stoic, quiet, I don't know. Billings said he might have been mildly obsessive-compulsive. Erebus kept making me offers, that's why he cut m
y fucking arm off and gave me this new one. Maybe Erebus made him a deal and Powell thought it sounded like a good idea. Maybe he decided the odds of success just weren't in our favor.”

  “I wonder when he turned,” Campbell murmured.

  “Who gives a shit?” Kyra’s voice was low and angry.

  “The supply ship,” Greg said suddenly. They both looked up at him. “We left him and Cage on that supply ship. He got out...but Cage didn't. Could the deal have been made then?”

  “It doesn't matter,” Kyra replied. “He turned. He's dead. End of story. Then we blow the bomb and get the fuck out of here.”

  A long moment of silence passed. Finally, Greg stood and moved back to the cockpit. A thought occurred to him and it made him feel helpless. He shoved it aside for the moment, looking for something to distract him.

  “What was this station?” he asked.

  “I'm not too sure,” Mike replied. “But if I understood the talk I heard about it years ago, I think it was kind of a trader's outpost. They crop up in new systems when it looks like there's going to be a lot of through traffic. Obviously, in this case, it didn't work out. So, I guess, the station was abandoned. I imagine there won't be much left. I do know that occasionally some of the guys would 'requisition' a ship up there every now and then. They must've been scavenging.”

  “I wonder why Powell even went up there,” Greg murmured.

  Mike shrugged. They had left the surface of Onyx and were now heading into the eternity of space. He could clearly see the fourth planet: a big, purple ball of constantly shifting atmosphere. Up ahead and to the far right were the four ships still controlled by Erebus. Greg wondered if the AI would just fire on them and kill them outright. He supposed that wouldn't happen. Erebus still needed him. Perhaps that was their only bargaining chip.

  “Mike...could you install the last part of the bomb?” Greg asked suddenly.

  Mike was silent for a few moments, and then shrugged. “I suppose if I had enough time, I could. Guess we're screwed otherwise, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Greg murmured.

  They drifted on.

  * * * * *

  They passed the small fleet of Augmented ships and docked with the derelict station without any trouble. No one tried to contact them on the radio. No one tried to stop them. Greg felt a sense of great unease and rapt tension settled coldly into his gut. They cycled through a large airlock that took a while to fully open and close, and then settled into a vast, empty hangar. Greg finished gathering up his arsenal and inventory.

  He shoved a pistol into the holster on his thigh.

  He looped the shoulder strap attached to his shotgun across his back.

  He settled another shoulder strap attached to his rifle over his neck and made sure all the safeties were off.

  “Okay, first thing we need to do is find a terminal, see if it's working and get a map of this place. Figure out where Powell will be,” Greg said.

  “Why not just find his ship and leave, instead?” Campbell asked.

  “Chances are he's either with the ship, or he's taken some critical component out of it. No way he'd just leave it there to be stolen,” Kyra replied.

  “Everyone ready?” Greg asked.

  The three of them responded affirmatively. They left the jump ship and made their way down into the immense hangar bay. Their boots echoed long and lonely across the vast emptiness. Greg felt eyes on him, but could see, smell, or hear nothing at all. Power at least seemed to be functional, with basics like light, air, and gravity.

  They found a terminal at the far end of the bay, next to an exit that would take them deeper into the station. Kyra fired up the terminal and found the map. They had just begun looking over it when, abruptly, the terminal shut down.

  “What the fuck?” Kyra snapped.

  “Powell,” Greg replied.

  “What the hell are we going to do now?” Campbell asked.

  “Well...if he's got access like that, then he's probably in the main control center. I think I might know the way there,” Mike said cautiously.

  “Why would you know the way there?” Greg asked.

  “Because, maybe I might have come along on one of those salvaging missions...or three,” Mike replied awkwardly.

  “And you didn't mention this because...” Campbell asked.

  “It's illegal.”

  “Yeah, like wasting government agents isn't super illegal,” Kyra snorted.

  Greg felt an unexpected laugh surface. “Lead the way. Let's get this over with. One last goddamn hurrah.”

  They left the hangar. An immense corridor awaited their inspection. It was utterly empty and looked as though it hadn't been touched in decades. They made their way down it. Greg studied the station as they walked through it. Everything was grandiose. It had the look and feel of someone who had invested a great deal of time and money; someone who wanted something massive and he wanted it damn quick.

  Too much, too fast.

  When it all fell apart, everyone left in a hurry. He envisioned an army of shady-looking men and women taking everything that wasn't actually bolted to the floor and fleeing in their ships. He could see dozens of vessels fleeing the central mass, like a contemporary version of rats fleeing a sinking ship.

  What was left?

  A derelict shell of metal and glass and wiring. At least it still had power and the basic essentials for life.

  They left the hangar section and came through a central junction. After ascending three flights of stairs, Mike whispered to them that the command center was at the end of the corridor they were standing in.

  “Get ready,” Greg murmured.

  They made their way as quickly and quietly as they could down the corridor. The feeling of tension rose, making Greg's muscles tighten. They reached the door. Mike moved to the side, to the control panel.

  “Ready?” he whispered.

  “Open it,” Greg replied.

  Mike hit the button.

  The door opened.

  Beyond the doorway was a large, mostly empty room. In the center of the room was a chair in front of a terminal on a raised dais. Powell occupied it, facing away from them, hands and fingers moving over the terminal's keyboard.

  Beside him, on a hover-dolly, was the EMP bomb.

  “Don't move,” Greg said, rifle tucked tightly into his shoulder, staring down the digital sights, moving forward as he zeroed on Powell's exposed arm. Then his torso, then his head as Greg slowly shifted deeper into the room.

  Powell didn't seem concerned.

  “I was hoping you'd get here soon,” he murmured. “We don't have much time.”

  “You've got fucking zero time,” Greg snapped.

  “I understand that you're upset with my apparent betrayal, but I assure you that I'm still on our side,” Powell replied calmly, still working the terminal.

  “Bullshit,” Kyra said.

  “No. Not bullshit. I've been playing the long game.” Here, he stood and looked directly at them. “It became obvious to me that Erebus would win. There was no way we could stop it. So I pretended to cut it a deal. I performed some sabotages, screwed with the sensors, and ultimately, I let it into the compound.”

  “Why?” Campbell cried.

  “Because my end goal has always been to fire this EMP bomb and escape. Erebus and the Undead must not be allowed out of this system. Everything else I've been doing, we've been doing, has just been a delaying tactic. So yes, I sacrificed almost everyone here to stop Erebus and the Undead, and I'd sacrifice more, many more, to complete that objective. Now, you can either shoot me in the head and get it over with and try to figure this shit out yourselves, or you can work with me one more time and we can get out of here,” Powell explained calmly.

  Greg wasn't sure what to say.

  “Time is wasting. Choose quickly,” Powell murmured.

  “Fuck!” Greg snapped, lowering his weapon. “Fine! What the fuck do we have to do?”

  “There's one critical compone
nt that I never mentioned. Without it, the ship will not achieve faster than light travel. Everyone was too busy and overlooked this component, and I suppressed the knowledge. This component is here, on the station, in the old power core. Mike, you should know how to remove this piece. I'll show you soon. You three should go out and retrieve this piece, as the Augmented will be here soon. I'll stay and finish the bomb. I assume that one of you has the last component necessary?”

  “I do,” Kyra said after a moment.

  Powell held out his hand, palm up. Kyra looked uncertainly at Greg, who nodded reluctantly after a moment. She sighed, reached into one of the pockets and fished out the piece. Once she placed it in his hand, Powell pocketed it.

  “Good,” he said. “It shouldn't be long. Once you have the piece, we will meet at the hangar containing my ship. I'll install the final component and we'll leave, setting the EMP bomb to detonate. It will be tricky, but doable.”

  “Campbell, you stay here with him,” Greg said.

  Powell frowned. “Have I not proven my reasoning to you?”

  “Not necessarily, but it doesn't matter. Chances are Erebus has pieced together that you've fucked it over. Either way, I'll feel safer if one of us is here with you. Keep in radio contact and work fast,” Greg said, his voice coming out harshly.

  Powell nodded, turned and went over to the bomb. Greg nodded to Campbell, who nodded back, and then he led Mike and Kyra back out into the station.

  * * * * *

  They had almost made it to their destination when Powell warned them that they Augmented had arrived and were boarding the station.

  “Shit,” Greg muttered, clenching his rifle a little more tightly.

  “We're nearly there,” Mike replied.

  “Let's hurry it up then,” Kyra said.

  They hustled down the stairwell and emerged in another corridor at the bottom. The generator room was at the end of the corridor. As with everything else in the station, this area of the ship looked like it had been abandoned ages ago.