The second guard looked over towards him. Alden dropped his head and assimilated back into the crowd. If they stopped to question him he’d have to act fast. His best bet would be to destabilize the soldier, and fire his weapon. The station would erupt into chaos and he’d be able to disappear into the underground tunnel. There would be access tunnels to the street above, but the entire city would be on high alert. His ability to move in the open would be highly restricted.
As he drew closer to the line of soldiers a pattern began to emerge. They were only questioning individuals that looked different, traveled alone or looked poor. Several groups of well-dressed travelers that appeared to represent major corporations passed through with immunity. The businessman in front of him had large pockets and Alden could see that one of them contained his identification badge. Alden snatched it as they moved forward. He sank back into the crowd. The guards drew closer, screening the passengers at random.
A woman about his age quietly walked in front of him. She was reading an article on variable plasma propulsion. Alden intentionally mis-stepped and lightly bumped into her. “Sorry about that. Everybody seems to be in such a hurry these days,” Alden said, making eye contact.
Her eyes betrayed a look of interest.
“I like your choice in articles. Plasma propulsion has always intrigued me. It’s too bad the technology was never given the proper opportunity to prove itself.”
He hadn’t actually read the article, but he was very familiar with plasma propulsion. The last successful test had been around the turn of the last century when the Variable Specific Impulse Magnetoplasma Rocketproved the technology was viable. Unfortunately, the Alliance had shuttered their research before they were ever able to prove a real world test. Maybe the technology was finally making a comeback.
“I couldn’t agree more.” This time her smile appeared to be genuine. “The thought of reducing travel times between planets by sixty percent is fascinating.” She looked him over once more. “Do you work for one of the suppliers?”
Alden smiled back. “Actually I’ve just returned from a business trip. My firm used to supply several major corporations in the SRF, but with the increased security and tariffs, it just isn’t a viable venture any longer.” As he spoke he swiped the badge over the terminal gate. It lit up and he casually moved through.
“What do you do?” Alden asked. He paid no attention to the guards as they moved between them.
“Oh, I handle human resources for…” Alden tuned her out as he glanced back over his shoulder. Several guards approached the businessman as he frantically searched for his identification. He was about to have a really bad night. The soldiers escorted him away to some hidden location. Once his papers checked out, they’d put a trace on the stolen badge. It wasn’t of use to him anymore. Alden took the steps two at a time until he was out of the station.
He’d spent a lot of time learning about cities—he’d been off the Island on a number of occasions—but never allowed to freely wander through one before. The immense size of the buildings was almost overwhelming. He knew men were capable of such feats, but viewing holographic representations was far different from actually being surrounded by them. The intense city lights covered every surface and made it feel like midday, as opposed to night.
The paths between buildings overflowed with tens of thousands of people that walked from one location to the next. They had been roads once, but it had been decades since personal transportation vehicles were legal. When the first round of energy rationing started in the 2050’s, they were the first things to go. Instead, automated pods inside magnetic levitation hyperloop tubes whisked people through the sky from one location to the next. Sky bridges stretched between buildings, and filled the void left by roads. They allowed people to movebetween towers without ever touching the ground.
Interspersed through the unending crowds were robots. Their eyes betrayed no intelligence beyond their last orders and current duties. The Council had detested them and fought their legality. However, they were too cheap and efficient to ignore. In a rare act of defiance, the Three Nations had continued to use them.
Alden buried his excitement; there was work to be done. He checked his wrist deck for directions to Club Harkonnen. Relaying the route to his neural implants, he was able to see a holographic line before him that led off into the city. He didn’t want to raise any suspicion by routinely glancing down at his wrist deck for directions. He had no money to bribe police officers and no identification to prove his existence or right to be here. The less interest he raised, the better.
Several hours later, he arrived outside the club. The main city streets were emptying as the night grew later, although this part of town seemed unusually deserted. Judging from the quality of the buildings and the people stumbling around, this was not the place you wanted to be after dark. Alden turned at several more intersections before he finally disappeared down a destitute alleyway.
On his left was a poster glued to the wall. The title proclaimed, ‘Protect the Ones You Love.’ It featured a young woman crying, pressing her two young children to her chest. Beneath the picture it said, ‘If only I’d asked more questions, my children wouldn’t have to grow up without a father.’ Block lettering beneath that said, ‘Foreigners are the number one cause of homicides. Alert the police of any suspicious people in your neighborhood, or this could be you.’
The holographic line ended at a non-descript metal door, it was covered in rust and appeared to be a hundred years old. Alden switched off the map and walked up to the door. He knocked several times. After a long pause, it swung open. A giant woman stood staring at him. He didn’t have any credits to bribe his way in and he wasn’t prepared to make a scene just yet.
The bouncer grunted, moved aside and let him pass through. About the only thing he had going for him was the appearance of his clothes and the presumed wealth that accompanied them. Descending a set of dark steps he emerged into another universe. Strobe lights covered the room; fog flowed over the floors. It appeared as if everybody was dancing on clouds. Bright red lasers cut across the room in sync with the music. The floor was packed; everyone appeared to be in a trance as they moved to the beat of the music.
Alden turned and walked towards the bar. Standing out of the way he watched some young partier move up and order several drinks. The bartender was tall, with beautiful red hair, perfect curves, and luscious lips. Her movements were precise, no wasted effort. Every twist, bend and turn was the exact action required for the task at hand. It was nearly impossible to tell who was and wasn’t human these days. If she had been just a little more tired, less perky and made a few more errors, she could have passed for a person instead of something built on an assembly line.
The robot handed over the finished drinks. “Your tab is one hundred and thirty Alliance Credits.”
“Put it on Luka’s tab,” the young partier said as he grabbed the drinks and walked off.
Alden slipped into the man’s spot at the bar. “Good evening.” Although pleasantries weren’t required, it was habit. Attempting to sound as informal as possible he said, “I’ll have what he had.”
The bartender pulled out a chilled beer and handed it over. “That will be forty five Credits.”
“Put it on Luka’s tab.”
The bartender stared at him in quiet contemplation before whirling and walking off to the next customer. Pushing through the throngs that were trying to reach the bar, Alden headed towards the edge of the dance floor to survey the area. The club was a large open area, with two floors. The lower level was packed shoulder to shoulder with dancers, but the upper level was deserted. That was his destination and where he’d learn where to find Darar Khasim.
***
Arakiel repositioned the black bag on his shoulder. He was in one of the abandoned towns on the outskirts of Munich. The moon was so bright that it illuminated everything around him. Based on the density of the buildings he was probably close to downtown, but
there wasn’t a single unnatural light to be seen. Every window was either boarded up, or broken. Trash accumulated against anything that was strong enough to stop it from blowing around.
Humanity had departed most rural areas, forced to cluster around cities in order to receive access to energy. He walked off from the main street. Sewage puddles splashed under his feet. The stench of the trash couldn’t be avoided, but he finally found what he was looking for. A sign hung over a building and indicated hover car repair. The double doors beneath it were boarded up. Arakiel gave the door a solid kick and it swung wide open.
He slipped inside, and shut the door behind him. You could never be too careful. His eyes quickly adapted to the darkness. Antique hover cars sat rotting across the floor, each in a different state of decay. Various parts cluttered the free spots on the floor and it smelled of ancient fossil fuels and mold. In the distance was a lone bench covered in mounds of junk.
He laid his arm on the surface and swept everything to one side. The trash cascaded off the end of the bench, crashing to the ground and echoing against the abandoned walls. He lifted the black bag over his head and placed it down on the bench. As he opened it the radiant glow from the reactor lit up the room. Arakiel grabbed it with both hands and eased it out of the bag.
The reactor was a surprisingly small device given the immense power it contained. It was exhilarating and his to protect. He had been chosen and deep down he didn’t want to let it go.
The trip to the lunar surface would be a perilous one and he couldn’t risk the device being discovered. He had to conceal it. He needed it to look less conspicuous. The garage should have all the supplies he needed to fasten a cylinder around it. He found a piece of sheet metal he could bend hidden under a pile of boxes. Arakiel reached into the bag and pulled out the torch he’d used to cut a hole into the shipyard fence.
The metal turned a brilliant orange color as he applied the directed heat. Once it reached the correct temperature, he put on his combat gloves and used the vice grip to slowly bend it into cylinder. It took some effort, but he was finally pleased with its appearance. He welded the seam shut. Using some excess metal lying around, Arakiel welded a cap to one end.
He eased the reactor inside. The room grew dark without the green glow it had been producing. Arakiel turned on his wrist deck for light. Moments later the other end cap was welded into place. It now looked like an un-assuming steel cylinder. Although it wasn’t much of an improvement in terms of how much suspicion it could raise, at least it would be more stable and wouldn’t glow. The device was warm to the touch as he zipped it inside the bag. Gathering his tools, he placed each of them back into the bag’s side pockets.
As he walked to the exit he noticed a large barrel off to the side, it smelled of fossil fuels. He shook his head; it was so dangerous to leave these volatile chemicals lying around. He kicked the barrel as hard as he could. The lid went flying and the entire thing tipped over. Fuel gushed over the floor like a mini-flood. Pulling the torch out of the side pocket, he turned it on and then flung it into the liquid.
There was a great burst of light as the entire floor erupted in flame. The heat was intense and any objects left on the ground quickly melted away. The flames ripped at the walls and spread to each corner of the room. Several subsequent bursts of flames shot from abandoned areas of the garage. The chaos would make it easier to slip into the city unnoticed.
***
Alden moved through the throngs of people mindlessly dancing around him, their rhythmic moves highlighted by the strobe lights and lasers. Their warm bodies pressed up against his as he moved. He arrived at the back steps but several guards blocked the passage. He remained in the crowd, pretending to dance, as he waited for the right moment.
A well-dressed man in a sleek suit with blond hair approached the steps; he was followed by a group of rowdy clubbers. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Alden slipped in with the entourage. Atthe top, Alden broke away and headed to the right. From this vantage point he could see the entire club, the bartender in the distance, and the DJ below.
Turning a corner, he nearly walked into another group of bouncers. These guys were everywhere. They moved in and blocked his path, staring down at him with malicious contempt. “This area is off limits. Go back now.”
“I need to see your boss.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t need to see him. Get out of here while you still can.”
“Tell him I’m looking for Darar Khasim.”
The guard who seemed to be in charge whispered into his wrist deck. After a few prolonged seconds, he nodded and then turned his gaze back to Alden. He pulled his suit jacket back and revealed a small gun in his waist. “Today is your lucky day. Follow me.”
The bouncers moved through a set of doors and into a lavish room covered in red tapestries. The entire place had a distinctly oriental vibe. The left side of the room had a lone couch, with suits of armor on either end. On the right, a young woman sat behind a desk typing on a holographic keyboard.
At the opposite end was another set of doors. The second room was far larger and even more ornate than the first. Paintings, suits of armor, and ancient weapons adorned the walls and seemed to narrow the focus of the room on a large desk at the center. A massive tub of a man sat beyond that, shuffling digital papers. He seemed to tower over everything in the room, but his size would make it nearly impossible for him to move without help.
In the room, Alden counted six other guards. There were no exits except for the one he’d come through. He was surrounded and unarmed. If it came to a fight he’d need something to give him an advantage, a distraction of some kind. This man was too cautious not to take every precaution available. None of the decorative guns would be loaded, although the sword held by the 13th Century Samarian suit of armor could come in handy—as long as it didn’t break when he used it.
With a deep, gruff German accent, Harkonnen said, “Come.”
Alden walked the rest of the way across the room and stopped in front of his desk. He bowed. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”
“What do you want with Khasim?” He hadn’t bothered to look up as he continued to move the digital files around his desk.
“I need weapons and I have it on good authority that you’re the person to see.”
“Whose good authority?”
“To be honest, I’m not really sure, but I have reason to believe them.”
For the first time, the man stopped what he was doing and looked up at Alden. “What the hell are you doing here? You come into my club unannounced, with reliable information from somebody you don’t know, and now you want to purchase illegal weapons from me? You’re either really stupid or really brave. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Get the hell out of my club, while you can still walk.” He returned to the papers and his work.
The guards walked over and put their hands on his shoulders. Alden shrugged them off and took a step forward. “You will answer my questions.”
With a glint of mild amusement, Harkonnen looked up once more, giving the slightest of nods to the bodyguards behind him. Alden could feel their movement before they ever connected with him. He dipped out of the way as a fist sailed past his head and connected with nothing. Alden grabbed the wrist and punched up into the locked elbow, snapping the bone. Using his momentum, he kicked the bodyguard in the side and sent him sailing into a glass case. The entire thing shattered as he fell to the floor.
The second guard was about to pounce when Alden whipped his hand out and connected with the guard’s throat. He quickly dropped to his knees and Alden was able to land a debilitating blow to his temple. The guard fell back to the floor and didn’t move. From each of the four corners of the room, guards rushed him. They were all carrying small sub-machine guns. Anticipating the next course of action, Alden stepped to the side and used his foot to whip a small baton off the unconscious guard’s belt and
into an emergency lever against the far wall.
The room went black as dozens of alarms sounded from inside the building. The nano-filaments in his eyes dilated, allowing him to see perfectly in the dark. Capitalizing on their confusion, Alden moved from the middle of the room and went after the nearest guard. He kicked his gun into the air, and then landed several debilitating attacks. The next guard didn’t fare any better. Random shots rang across the room as the guards attempted to locate him. Their morbidly obese boss could be heard yelling in the background.
Alden finished the last two guards off before he made his way back to the giant desk. Harkonnen was no longer sitting behind it. He’d fallen backwards in the chaos. His right shoulder was bleeding and he sat propped up against the wall, immobilized. Alden could tell that he wasn’t used to his current position; vulnerable and unprotected in the darkness.
Alden kicked a chair out of the way and strode over, until he stood before him. “Now, let’s try this again. Where is Khasim?”
“You didn’t have to do that. I was just testing you. I knew it from the moment I saw you. They’re real. You do exist. You’re one of those…Council ghosts.”
Watching his attempts to talk reminded Alden of a fish stuck in a net, fighting for its life.
Harkonnen continued, “We could make so much money together! The possibilities are endless!” His fear had been replaced by greed.
The room was ink black except for the occasional flicker of light from the waiting area. In his haste to get answers, Alden hadn’t contemplated the ramifications of his actions. If the alarms were going off, that meant the police, or even military could be on the way.
He must have guessed what was going through his mind. “The alarm system is hardwired into the National Guard. It’s amazing what money can buy. Come work for me and I’ll make this all go away.”
Alden didn’t have time to deal with him. He hurried to the suit of armor and yanked the sword free. He lowered the blade until it came to rest against the man’s neck. “How does it make you feel when you realize that some people don’t operate within the world of money? When you realize that all of this amounts to nothing?” Alden lowered his voice to a whisper and made sure to enunciate every syllable so there would be no misunderstandings, “The only way you’ll ever leave this room is if you tell me where to find Darar Khasim.”
The Last Revolution Page 9