by Sam Fisher
Sliding into the stairwell, Josh swung the gun around. A concrete staircase led to B5. It seemed clear, but it was impossible to tell for sure from here. Josh strained to listen – with his cochlear implants he could detect a man breathing from twenty feet away – but there was nothing.
They started to climb the stairs, crouching low and sticking close to the wall, out of sight to anyone higher up. The air was growing hotter. Josh was fine in his cybersuit, but Foreman was beginning to suffer. He was sweating so much that his ripped shirt was soaked, his hair dripping wet.
The door through to Level B5 was open a crack.
'I think we should keep going,' Josh whispered. 'See how far up we can get.'
Foreman nodded and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
'You okay?'
'Just hot.'
Josh looked at his flexiscreen. It told him the temperature was topping 120 degrees Fahrenheit, with 95 per cent humidity. Kicking at a pile of rubble, he picked up a foot-long steel pole and handed it to Foreman. 'Stay here, and keep your back to the wall. Don't go to the rail and don't go into B5. Is that clear?'
Foreman nodded and took a deep breath.
Josh dashed up the first flight of stairs, turned at the end, and then, keeping close to the wall, he took the second flight a little slower. The door to Level B4 was closed. He tried the handle but it was stuck fast. He checked his screen and could see that the door was pinned shut by a single beam of metal on the other side.
He stepped back and kicked the door. Nothing. Looking around, he saw a steel beam poking from a heap of crumbled concrete and brick. He pulled at it and it came loose. He stepped back and rammed the steel against the wooden door. It groaned on its hinges, but held.
Taking a deep breath, Josh launched the narrow girder at the door with all his strength. This time the beam ploughed straight through the wooden panels. Two more blows and Josh had punched a hole two feet wide in the door. He shoved the girder through the opening and knocked away the steel beam on the other side. It hit the floor of the car park with a dull thud.
A fire had recently burned itself out on B4. The cars close to the exit were little more than charred chassis. Josh checked his wrist. The temperature was nudging 200 degrees here. The air was a toxic blend of sulphur, carbon monoxide and vapourised hydrocarbons. More importantly, he could see that a ferocious fire was raging between the door and the ramp. Half the ceiling had collapsed. It was completely impassable, even in a cybersuit.
Josh ran back to the ravaged door, stepped over the piles of smashed wood, and began the descent back to B5. As he swung around the corner he looked down towards the door into the car park. Senator Foreman was gone.
84
'Shit!' Josh exclaimed under his breath. He stopped and listened, but all he could hear was creaking structure, the crackle of combustion, and water streaming down walls.
Creeping down the final steps, he tried to steady his breathing. He reached the landing, pinned himself to the wall and edged slowly towards the door. Taking a deep breath, he leapt through the opening, his stun gun sweeping the space just inside Level B5. He was alone.
He crouched low and headed along the gap between the first two lines of cars. At the third vehicle he heard a faint tapping sound and spun around. The Dragon appeared from behind a column.
He had his left arm around Kyle Foreman's throat, his Yarygin PYa handgun held in his right, with the barrel against the senator's head. Foreman's face was a picture of pain and terror, wet with perspiration, his pupils huge and dark. He had a fresh red bruise just under his left eye and a cut across his right cheek. Blood ran down to his chin. The oxygen mask still clung to his mouth and nose.
'Put the toy down, please, Dr Thompson.'
'How do you know my name?'
'Oh, I know many things,' the Dragon replied. 'My employers are extremely well informed. Now, I'll ask again. Put down the weapon.'
Josh didn't move. The Dragon thrust the gun forward and shot the stun pistol out of Josh's hand. He yelped with pain as two fingers were dislocated at the knuckle.
'Why didn't you just kill the senator?' Josh said between gritted teeth.
'What's the hurry?' the Dragon smirked as he turned the gun back to Foreman's temple. 'Well, okay, I want you to see it, Dr Thompson,' he added. 'After all, you'll be meeting your maker immediately after Senator Foreman here.'
Josh heard something. But he couldn't figure out what it was or where it was coming from. The other two seemed oblivious to the sound.
'Oh, and there is something else,' the Dragon went on. 'I rather like the look of your suit. Might be a little large on me, what with your big muscles and all.' He sniggered. 'But it will come in very useful in getting out of this shithole.'
Josh caught a glimmer of light reflected off smooth metal. At the same moment, the Dragon heard a sound. He pulled Foreman to one side, the gun still pushed hard against his skull. He turned slightly to his left.
A Hunter came into view. It was hovering six feet above the floor. The Dragon glared at it, uncomprehending. Josh saw Foreman's eyes widen, his dark pupils lit up by the light reflected by the Hunter.
The machine moved two feet closer, then stopped. It swivelled in the air, scanning the scene, absorbing data. For a second it seemed as though the Dragon didn't know how to respond. He took a step back and came up hard against the wreck of a Ford Explorer. Its hood had popped and a haze of smoke hung over its engine.
Then the Hunter began to move again, heading straight for the Dragon and Senator Foreman. The Dragon slid the Yarygin away from Foreman's head and took aim at the Hunter.
But before he could fire, the machine let out a series of loud clicks, then a hiss. It wobbled, emitting a high-pitched squeal that froze the Dragon's finger on the trigger. The Hunter sped towards the two men, shuddered and plummeted, smashing into the engine of the Ford Explorer.
The car rocked as metal slammed into metal. Oil gushed from the engine and petrol splashed onto the concrete floor of the car park. It ignited immediately. The battery exploded, shooting boiling sulphuric acid into the air.
Stunned, the Dragon lost his grip on Foreman, who tore free, dropped to the floor and rolled away. Acid sprayed across the senator's left arm, burning through the fabric. But the Dragon took the full force of the flying yellow liquid. A great plume of the acid flew into his face. He screamed and dropped the gun. Blinded, he stumbled, tripped on a detached bumper bar and fell backwards into the burning fuel.
The Dragon went up like a Roman candle, his hair crackling and fizzing into black threads. He tried to clamber to his feet, but his hands slipped in the fiery liquid. He made it to a sitting position, an expression of abject confusion written into his features. Then he smiled resignedly. Looking straight into Josh's eyes, he shrugged. 'We're all dead. I've been busy . . . boom!'
Flames shot into the Dragon's mouth and his left eye melted onto his cheek.
Josh dove forward, grabbed Kyle Foreman and pulled him towards the doorway to the stairwell. He didn't stop until he had forced the senator to the first landing, down the stairs and around the corner onto the stairs leading back to B6. As they turned the bend, a huge explosion ripped through B5, sending a fireball into the stairwell. Josh jumped through the door to B6, dragging the senator with him.
The sound of the explosion reverberated along the shaft of the stairwell. It was followed by a weird silence. Josh pulled himself to his feet and leaned over Foreman, who was sprawled on the floor. The man's face was covered in dirt and blood. He opened his eyes, winced and tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. He ran his tongue over his split and bloodied lips, tasting the iron. Grabbing at his left arm, Foreman recoiled as the acid bit into his palm.
Josh tore the fabric away. Underneath, the flesh was red raw. 'Can you walk, Senator?'
Foreman nodded. 'I think so.'
Josh helped him to his feet.
'We need to get that arm seen to,' Josh said. He spoke into his comms.
'Mai, we're heading back. One casualty.'
There was only silence along the line.
'Mai? Do you receive? We're on our way back.'
Nothing.
'Mark? Steph? Base One?'
Nothing.
Then Josh realised his suit had shut down. He pulled off his helmet and the stench of the fumes hit him. He coughed violently, then vomited into the dust.
Something had gone terribly wrong. That Hunter had crashed without warning, without anyone doing anything to it. And as he led Kyle Foreman back towards the storeroom, the Dragon's final words reverberated through his mind.
85
The slope down from B3 to B4 was surprisingly clear, but the air was rancid with a cocktail of very nasty fumes. It was unbearably hot. Inside the number one Mole, Pete Sherringham was comfortably cocooned at an ambient temperature of 70 degrees Fahrenheit. But the view through the external cameras displayed a barren scene of utter devastation.
As the Mole descended, Pete could see across B4 between the support columns of the ramp. Most of the floor was aflame, from the ramp right through to the western end of the building. To make things worse, part of the floor of B3 had collapsed into B4, making it impassable on foot.
At the bottom of the ramp, Pete immediately swung the Mole around, pointing the drill nose towards the down ramp to Level B5. At that moment a sheet of flame leapt across the ramp, igniting a river of oil and fuel that was running down the ramp to B5. A wall of blue and purple flames shot up, creating a corridor of fire.
Pete ignored it and pushed his way down the ramp. Then the Mole stalled. The onboard computer screen turned blue and the lights went out. The engine hummed for a few seconds, the note descending in pitch to a dull rumble. Then it fell silent. Two seconds later the emergency generator kicked in. A faint light flickered to life above the control panels.
Pete stared in disbelief at the array of useless plastic and metal at his fingertips. The control panels were blank, their lifeblood cut off.
'Base One,' he said into his comms. His voice was heavy. He didn't expect a response. None came.
86
Mark was in the number two Mole, twenty feet through the obstruction in the drainage tunnel, when his screen died. A second later the engines of the Mole shuddered to an ominous silence and his comms went down.
The backup generator sprung to life and Mark turned from the control panel to the Bullet, the module behind the drill. Its walls were curved and lined with bench seats. He walked over to one of the benches. There was just enough room to sit upright, his head less than an inch from the sloping ceiling.
He took a deep breath and leaned forward, his head between his knees. He looked to the back of the Bullet. There was a manual override to the back door of the Mole. What should he do? Wait to see if the power came back on, or climb out and see if he could dig through the obstruction with a shovel?
He looked at his wrist but his cybersuit was down too. That meant the whole system must be screwed, or at least a large portion of it – no power, no suits, no comms. 'God!' Mark exclaimed. 'I just knew something like this would happen. Interfering politicians thinking they know best. Fuck!'
He pushed himself out of the chair and, crouching down, made his way to the rear door. He turned a red lever to the right of the door and pulled on another next to it. Then as he pushed on the door the airtight seal hissed and the door eased smoothly outwards on its hinges. Mark grabbed a torch from the wall above the bench seat and shone it through the opening.
The powerful beam lit up smooth walls of earth, a twenty-foot-long cylinder, eight feet in diameter, freshly produced by the massive drill of the Mole. As the beam dispersed, it lit up the first few feet of drain wall. Beyond that lay a seamless black void.
87
Everywhere and nowhere
'Why so surprised?'
'Francine friggin' Gygax. I might have guessed.'
'Well, it's nice to see you too, Tommy Boy.'
Tom checked himself. He was still fully armed. She hadn't been able to touch his weapons. But what was the status of the system? Jesus! Almost everything down. He checked it out silently, fixing Francine Gygax with his toughest stare.
Sybil had been taken over. All comms were down – nothing at all was getting through to LA. Almost everything at Base One was frozen. The rest of the staff would be looking at blank screens and wondering what the hell had happened. As if on cue, someone came running onto the balcony to find him. He had just enough energy to shoo them away. He had plenty to contend with in cyberspace.
Tom gazed around. The two of them were floating in uniform blackness. He studied Francine. She really did look like a librarian, bespectacled and dressed in 'sensible' shoes and a skirt. Her avatar was as different to her as Tom's was to him. But then he noticed the tight knit top she was wearing. It didn't do much to disguise her large breasts. This was not the Francine Gygax he had known in 'real' life.
In the 'real' world Francine was blonde and blue-eyed – a 24-carat babe. Tom Erickson had met her when he was fifteen at a software convention in Minneapolis. She was seventeen and had already made the transformation from mouse to minx. They had stayed in touch, and hooked up occasionally in cyberspace to exchange ideas, challenges. Tom had met her again a year later at another convention in Detroit, where he'd taken her on in a game of Interstellar Life, a hardcore net-head's favourite. She had eaten him up and he'd never forgotten it. He knew she was keen, egotistical and brilliant, as well as totally amoral. She had actually congratulated him via email when he had pulled off his cyber-heist a year ago.
'So what's up, Francine?' Tommy Boy said.
'Oh, I'm in gainful employment.'
'So I see. So what's the deal?'
Francine smiled. She had a tooth missing, her left canine. 'Tommy Boy, I'd be shocked if you weren't able to put up a fight.' She eyed him carefully.
'Well, I owe my employers a duty of trust,' Tommy Boy replied with a smirk. Without warning, he drew a pistol from a holster at his side and fired. Francine vanished before the particles could reach her.
Then suddenly Tommy Boy was falling. There was no sense of time or space, no air rushing past, no sound at all. Tom closed his eyes involuntarily. Opening them a moment later, he found himself in a garden that stretched away to the horizon. It was carefully manicured, all neat hedges, beds of rose bushes and uniformly spaced rhododendrons. A bird flew low past his face and he ducked involuntarily.
A crash came from a few feet away. Tommy Boy spun around and there was a second crash – closer this time. He spotted Francine. She raised her gun as he dived behind a hedge. Clutching at his shoulder, he found his impulse rifle and rested its huge barrel lightly in his palm. He ran from the hedge, firing at the spot where he had last seen Francine's avatar. The flower bed vapourised and a tree vanished.
He saw Francine dash behind a wall and fired at it. Francine jumped 30 feet into the air. Tommy Boy swung the gun upward, just catching sight of a fluorescent net as it sailed down towards him. It shimmered menacingly but he just managed to spring away as it reached the ground and vanished. Francine was gone.
Tommy Boy walked slowly between two high hedges, sweeping his impulse rifle from left to right and back. It felt good to be walking again. He heard a sound, a creaking, but he couldn't focus on where it was coming from. He looked up and saw a huge cluster of black dots forming in the sky. They were growing larger.
Something hit him on the arm. He looked down at it. A small black worm slithered along his wrist and stopped. Another landed next to it. Then the pain came as the creatures undulated on his arm. Tom realised with a start that they were leeches sucking his blood. He felt two more spatter onto his face. He tugged at them, suppressing his panic.
He clicked his fingers and a golf umbrella appeared in his hand. It had a huge corporate logo, a Silverback poised above the words 'E-Force – We're There For You'. The leeches pattered onto the umbrella, some slithering to the ground at his feet, others clin
ging on desperately. He plucked the two leeches from his arm, tossed them to the ground and sped off.
As Tommy Boy ran, Tom felt the terrain change. Looking down, he saw the neatly swept path transforming into uneven rock. The leeches had stopped falling. He made the umbrella disappear and gazed around. The garden had gone, replaced by a landscape of ash and fire. Close by, a river of lava rippled in the haze.
Tom felt the heat slam into him like a wave. He stumbled and fell forward, cutting his hands on the jagged ground. The rifle left his hands and clattered across the rocks and into the lava, sizzling pathetically and exploding in a cascade of crimson and yellow.
Tommy Boy stood up. He was clad in a cybersuit, floating a few inches above the scorching ground.
Francine stepped out from behind a rock. She was lit up, flames in her hair. She smiled. 'You've grown soft, Tommy Boy. I thought Aldermont would have toughened you up, not turned you into a pussy.' Francine's smile vanished and a jet of flame flew out of her raised palm at incredible speed.
It almost had him, but he sidestepped the fire stream. Catching his toe on a rock, Tommy Boy stumbled again, coming down hard against a jutting outcrop of scorching hot lava. He stood up, swung around and raised his own palm outwards. A stream of ice shot out and met Francine's second fire-bolt mid-flight. Fire and ice met in a ball of steam.
Tommy Boy blinked. His opponent had vanished again. The lava had dissolved, replaced by a shining metal floor that stretched to the horizon, hard and featureless. He had a new pistol in his right hand.
A voice came from behind him. He spun around. Francine was there, a bazooka pointed at his head. 'Drop the gun, Tom,' she said, her voice brittle.
He tossed it to the ground.
His mind was racing. She had been at least one step ahead of him from the moment they had entered this cyber-reality, forcing him onto the back foot, and now she would destroy him. He had to think of something, anything.