The Day of the Nefilim

by David L. Major

  * * *

  The dark stranger knew his way around. “There,” he said after they had used a service elevator to get to an area a few levels above the landing bays. They were in front of an unmarked door.

  “What’s in here?”

  “Backup terminals,” said William. “We can access the system from there.”

  The single technician in the room went into a state of shock when they entered. The black stranger picked the young woman up by her shoulders and put her on a seat near the back of the room.

  “You don’t mind if we borrow your computer for a moment, I hope?”

  She said nothing and nodded.

  “Hello, how are you,” said Pig, and sat down in front of her.

  She nodded again, this time slowly.

  “Now William…” The black stranger pointed at the vacated seat. “You remember what we discussed, don’t you?”

  William, who until now had appeared slightly bewildered by everything, came to life. He set to work, and soon the screen in front of him was a clutter of menus, dialog boxes and scrolling lists of options.

  “What’s he doing?” Bark looked at the screen and quickly became confused. “Anything we should know about?”

  “William here was one of their top system administrators, before falling out of favor,” replied the black stranger. “They found out that he had been sending information to the mutants. Of course, no one but a select few were supposed to know that the mutants exist, so he was doubly damned. They didn’t want to do away with him, because of his knowledge of the system here, and also because of anything he might know about the mutants. In case he might be useful some time, they threw him in jail.”

  “Over the last few months, I’ve been in contact with him, just as I was in contact with you, Bark. I’ve been preparing him for this day. If anyone can bring their system down, it’s William. William, how are you doing? We will be having guests any minute.”

  Reina had left the door ajar and was standing by it, listening for anyone approaching.

  William nodded. He was reciting a stream of code into the headset’s microphone. A few seconds later he looked up.

  “It’s done. I’ve released the bots. They have already started self-replicating, locking up all the free space on the storage devices and memory. Bit by bit, the system will freeze, until finally the whole thing will go into gridlock. By that time, BabyMutator will have wiped every CMOS in the place. They won’t be able to do a thing to fix it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Bark, “but it sounds convincing.”

  William smiled. “Oh, they’ll be convinced, all right.”

  Reina heard footsteps approaching. “They’re coming. We need to go...”

  Pig got up from in front of the computer operator.

  “I’m sorry about your job. I think you’ll find that the labor market here is about to suffer a major contraction. If I were you, I’d leave this place as soon as possible.” He followed the others out of the room.

  They were out in seconds and found a stairwell. Above them, soldiers ran from room to room, kicking in doors and shouting to each other.

  “How long until the system starts failing?”

  “It’s already started.” Now that he was away from the computer, William had reverted to his soft-spoken self. “They should start to notice it in a few minutes. With the bandwidth that’s used here, it won’t take long to spread.”

  “Then there’s no rush, is there,” said Bark. “We can just sit tight, and wait for it happen. Then when they’re all running around trying to figure out what’s happened, we can slip out.”

  “It would be nice if it were that easy, but unfortunately it’s not,” said William. “The lighting will go soon, and this whole place will be plunged into total darkness. But more importantly, the power system will melt down. The storage units will either go dead or explode, depending on which part of their cycle they’re in. And the safeguards on the weapon systems will go down. They’re all that’s holding them…”

  “Thanks. I think we get the picture. It’s time to go.”

  “I know how to get outside,” said the black stranger.

  * * *

  The center cannot hold

  THE POWER WAS FAILING. The computers were failing. Damn it, everything was failing.

  “What is it?” demanded the Secretary-General. “Is it those things that you locked up in the network? Have they got loose?”

  “No, they’re still where I put them.” The operator looked nervously up from her screen, wishing that she didn’t have to tell the Secretary-General about the other strange things that were happening. The links with the fliers and cruisers that were in flight had disappeared. Internal and external communications were frozen, as though they were choking on something. The lights flickered. Something rumbled deep underground, making the room shake.

  “Fuck! FUCK!” The Secretary-General went to the monitors. He was sweating. Through the static and streaks of the disintegrating images he saw streams of soldiers, technicians and bureaucrats pouring out of the exits into the foothills, smoke billowing after them.

  “Secretary-General, I think the lighting’s starting to go.”

  The Secretary-General looked around the war room. The few people that were left were watching him, waiting for guidance. Waiting for help. Imbeciles. They didn’t even have the sense to run.

  “We’re done here,” he said. “It’s time to leave.”

  They went to the landing bays, through corridors full of smoke and empty of people. The lights flickered on and off in celebration, spurring on the Secretary-General and his followers.

  The situation in the landing bays was no better, and quickly getting worse. As they walked onto the deck, an overloaded flier tried to take off. It floated clumsily in the air, bobbing around like a ship on a swollen sea, then slid slowly, almost gracefully, down the volcano’s shaft. It veered to one side as the pilot struggled to regain control, and ploughed into several levels of offices and laboratories.

  There were only two fliers left. The Secretary-General looked around at the soft, weak-chinned bureaucrats who had come with him. He didn’t need them.

  He turned to a lieutenant. “Bring some men and come with me.”

  The bureaucrats surged forward, confused. “But Secretary-General, what about us? What are we going to do?”

  “You? You can die.” The Secretary-General turned to the lieutenant. “You heard me.”

  The bureaucrats turned and tried to run, but they had no chance of getting away. A couple of the more sprightly ones almost made it to the exits, but the rest fell where they stood. The soldiers were from the Secretary-General’s private guard. Their conditioning was working hard now, straining to overcome the obvious and increasing challenge to their instinct for self-preservation, but it was holding well. They lowered their guns and stood still, their minds frozen. They would die before they would respond to any stimulus other than a direct order from him.

  The other flier took off. It rose to the top of the shaft, and was just about to accelerate away when another ship appeared in the sky above it.

  The Secretary-General watched as the new flier hovered for a few seconds, then swooped down, firing as it came. A beam sliced the lower craft in half and the two sections fell away, disintegrating against the walls. Bodies spilled out, tumbling into the depths. The new flier hovered in the circle of sky above them, spinning slowly, its lights blinking.

  The fires were spreading now. On the other side of the shaft, the inner part of the complex was collapsing towards the center. It teetered in space, a sagging mass of girders and debris, lurching further downwards with each explosion.

  “We should get to the surface, Secretary-General.” The deck buckled beneath the lieutenant as he spoke. “We need to get you off the mountain.”

  The Secretary-General looked around at the fire and twisted metal. His world was disintegrating around him. Someone was going to pay
for this.

  It was time to go.

  * * *

  Somewhere in cyberspace

  GEOCA COULD SENSE that Sahrin was nearby, but that was all. They were being held apart by something. He couldn’t define what it was; it was harder than anything he had ever felt before, as if there could be no question about it at all, no qualifications; it was just there. It was all around him, so thoroughly and perfectly that he couldn’t move, couldn’t resonate, couldn’t do anything.

  Unable to move, he had time to think. They’d done well. They’d stopped the fighting, which for some reason seemed more important now than it would have before. And Sahrin had helped the others to find their way through the base.

  The trap had been sprung on them just after she had opened the cell doors. They’d felt it teasing them, probing, as if it was confirming their existence, then it had circled around them, forcing them into a small corner. When there was nowhere left for them to run, it had closed in, snapping shut like a trap.

  Geoca would have been pacing up and down in frustration if he could, but he couldn’t. He was trapped, like an insect in amber.

  * * *

  The ship turns peacenik

  NIBAT WAS RELIEVED when the others emerged from the interior of the mountain, but his relief was to be short-lived. He would soon be arguing with the ship.

  As soon as Bark, Reina, Pig and their two new acquaintances were on board, they took off. Nibat was glad to be doing something again.

  “It’s got to stop here,” the black stranger said. “The Secretary-General must be stopped.”

  Nibat took the flier up so that they had a good view of the mouth of the volcano. Within minutes, a flier appeared. The dark stranger was at his shoulder.

  “Intercept it.”

  Nibat put the flier into a steep descent towards the other craft.

  ‘They’ve seen us,’ the ship said. ‘They’ve armed their weapons.’

  ‘Then take them down.’

  Instinctively, the ship obeyed the order and fired. It was a clean hit. The flier fell away in two pieces.

  The ship came to a halt above the volcano.

  ‘What have I done? Who did I just kill?’

  ‘What do you mean? What are you saying?’ Nibat asked. The ship had never talked like this before.

  ‘I didn’t want to do that. We shouldn’t have done it. I won’t do it again.’

  ‘But they were going to attack us!’

  ‘We were flying towards them! Of course they were going to fire on us!’

  ‘Ship, what is this about?’

  ‘I won’t kill any more. It’s the Stream. It’s the way it flows through me. It’s taught me – or I’ve seen for myself – something different. All this fighting and killing… I won’t be part of it.’

  ‘Not now, ship. It can’t be now. First, we must deal with the situation confronting us.’ Nibat knew that the ship was right. But philosophy would have to come later.

  ‘Pilot, you don’t understand.’ The ship sounded sad.

  “The Secretary-General must be stopped,” the black stranger repeated.

  “Circle the mountain and watch for anyone on its surface,” Bark said to Nibat. “Do you know what that Secretary-General person looks like?”

  ‘Of course,’ replied the Nefilim. ‘Everyone does.’

  “Watch for him,” said the black stranger.

  William was looking worried. “Their weapons systems will be redlining any minute. I suggest that you keep your distance. When it goes, it will be big.”

  They went into an orbit around the mountain. All around its circumference, on its slopes and in the foothills, confused and panicking people were fleeing the angry, smoking god that it had become. The ship scanned them, zooming in as close as it could, comparing each fugitive with the images of the Secretary-General that it had recovered from its memory.

  ‘There’s the chairman of the Security Council… and the president of the Food Bank…’

  “Don’t worry about them. They’re nothing without their leader. Keep looking.”

  A few minutes later, the ship spoke again. ‘There’s another ship approaching. It’s about ten minutes away.’

  “Complications we don’t need,” Bark said when Nibat told him. “Who is it? What can you find out about it?”

  Before the Nefilim could answer, the ship interrupted.

  ‘I’ve found him. Your man. He’s there, on the side of the mountain...’

  “That’s him all right,” said Reina. “I’d recognize that slob anywhere.”

  The familiar figure on the monitor wobbled over the rocks, barely keeping its balance. Its face was bright with sweat. Reina could almost hear the wheezing. He was with half a dozen soldiers.

  The black stranger stood looking at the image on the monitor with his arms crossed. “You have to kill him.”

  That’s fine with me, thought Nibat, and passed the order to the ship.

  ‘No! I’ve killed enough. You’ve all killed enough. You’re as bad as each other!’

  Nibat struck at the control panel with his fist. ‘This is not the time for this! Do it!’ The others looked on, Pig alone among them understanding what was going on.

  ‘NO!!’

  “Then we’ll pick him up,” said Bark, when Pig told him what had been said.

  The soldiers with the Secretary-General had noticed them and started firing. The ship deflected their beams easily.

  The display caught the attention of the approaching flier. It swung towards them.

  * * *

  Alexis, returning from the disaster at the control point, saw the Secretary-General cowering among the rocks.

  “Not MY Secretary-General, you don’t!” she screamed, sweeping down on an attack path.

  * * *

  ‘They’re attacking!’ Nibat tried to put the weapons online, but the ship refused.

  ‘I’m sorry, pilot…’

  A beam from Alexis’s ship burned a long painful welt on the flier’s skin. If they weren’t going to fight, they had to run. Nibat accelerated away, weaving like a corkscrew, evading the beams that kept coming towards them.

  The wound on the ship’s hull hurt. ‘Why do they do this to each other?’ It kept going, until they were a safe distance away, then it slowed, diverting energy to the repair of its damaged skin. ‘Why do they do this?’ the ship asked again, but there was no answer.

  * * *

  The one that just won’t go away

  ALEXIS BROUGHT HER FLIER DOWN so that it hovered above the surface of the mountain, a few meters from where the Secretary-General was hiding. She put the external speaker on.

  “Well, bubble boy, it sure looks like things haven’t been going your way. You could even say that you’ve fucked up something chronic.”

  “Wha…??” The Secretary-General stood up, his face working itself into the closest thing resembling a smile that he could manage. “Alexis, my darling, you’re a gift from heaven. Quickly, now, get me off here.” He felt an ominous rumbling beneath him. Something inside the mountain was about to shit itself.

  Alexis continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “You prick. You let me go to that control point knowing what was going to happen. You knew there was fuck all chance of me surviving! You slug!”

  The Secretary-General was almost speechless with shock. She wasn’t making any sense. “M… my dear, I…”

  “Don’t dear me, asshole. You didn’t give a toss whether I lived or died.”

  “But Alexis, I sent a ship – that ship – to collect you! It was the second time I’ve had to send someone after you!”

  “You sent them to see what was going on, that’s all! It was just good luck on my part that they saw me, scrambling around in the sand like some fucking savage, trying to hide from the boneheads. They slaughtered us!” She swiveled the camera around, panning over the mountain and the surrounding countryside. “What a mess. What an absolute, total fuck up! You’re an incompetent, dangerous old...”
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  “But I…”

  Alexis pressed the firing stud that she had been fingering impatiently. When the smoke cleared, there was only a crater to mark the spot, and something wet and visceral hanging off a nearby shrub.

  “Damn, that felt good! So long, shithead!” She turned to the pilot, who was watching with his mouth hanging open. He was young, and from Idaho. He didn’t get this. “Find that other flier’s trail. Let’s find out who we’re dealing with.”

  “Yes, Vice-Secretary.” The pilot was reaching for the controls when the ground below them heaved, convulsing violently and surging upwards. Above them, a rock face gave way, disintegrating under the forces that tore at it from below. Boulders the size of houses slid down towards the flier. Caught in the avalanche, it was flung downwards onto the settling rocks. It lay trapped, humming desperately like a pinned insect.

  Alexis grappled her way towards the exit and palmed the panel beside the door. It scraped halfway open and refused to go any further. She squeezed through the narrow gap and looked down at the rocks that waited hundreds of feet below. The flier was pinioned on the brink, held like a flea in a pair of tweezers. The ground shook again, and the ship tilted even closer to the abyss. There was a ledge not far from the door. She reached out for it, dangling for a few seconds above empty space, hanging onto the edge of a viewport, and then swung herself to safety.

  “Come on!”

  Apart from the pilot, there were four soldiers on board. One of them began edging out of the door, and had just got a foot onto the ledge when more rocks came crashing down. The soldier, the ship and its contents were swept away in a torrent of rubble and choking volcanic dust.

  Alexis leaped out of the path of the avalanche. She staggered, struggling to keep her balance as the ground settled. “Shit!” She kicked at a boulder.

  She heard a footstep behind her. As she spun around, she took a knife from her belt and swept it upwards, pressing it against a throat, the blade tight against the skin.