The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1)

by Phillip William Sheppard

  He saw the door to the clone room up ahead. He summoned a burst of energy he didn’t know he had. Donovan ran at full speed. He heard a loud sigh behind him.

  Donovan dodged the cloning stations, heading for the other door at the opposite end of the room.

  “You can’t escape,” McGregor called. His voice echoed in the emptiness. “The place is swarming with clones waiting for the signal to attack. I could call them at this very moment, you know. But I quite enjoy seeing you suffer.”

  At the mention of clones, Donovan realized that his answer was right in front of him. He dove to the nearest cloning station and sank to the ground.

  “That won’t protect you,” McGregor said.

  Donovan opened the cabinet underneath the table. He tried to move carefully so as not to alert McGregor to what he was doing, but his hands shook with the weakness and he knocked over several test tubes stored inside.

  “What are you doing, Knight?” McGregor’s voice lost its arrogance. “You shouldn’t play with the grownups’ toys.”

  Donovan heard the urgency in McGregor’s footsteps. He scrambled for the right vial. They all seemed to say “primer.” That wasn’t what he wanted. He already had the virus.

  Finally, his hand seized a vial labeled E-X45. He grabbed a syringe and jammed it into the vial, pulling the plunger to suck up the liquid that he hoped would save his life. His vision blurred. His head was spinning. He held his eyes wide open until his leg came into focus.

  His body hurt so much already that he didn’t fear the small bite of pain that came next. He pushed the plunger back down and felt the E-X45 enter his bloodstream. For a moment, he lost consciousness. His mind was fading in and out, from blackness to blurry vision, back and forth until he felt dizzy.

  Finally, the images around him began to clear. He could see again. His heartbeat slowed down. It was easier to breath. He took the air into his lungs in gulps, like a man who had just been rescued from drowning.

  It was a high unlike anything Donovan had ever felt, coming back from the brink of death. McGregor’s footsteps were almost upon him.

  Vigor flowed through Donovan’s veins. The tiredness vanished. It was like he had never been tired in his life—he couldn’t quite remember what it felt like, only that it hurt.

  McGregor’s footsteps halted just behind the cloning station Donovan leaned his back against. He sat there, waiting, basking in the euphoria of energy and life.

  McGregor popped around the corner of the cloning station, thinking that he was surprising Donovan. Donovan grasped McGregor’s arm just before his hand closed around his neck. He looked at McGregor and smiled.

  McGregor was angry. “So, you’ve taken the real formula. It doesn’t matter. I will still kill you.”

  Donovan laughed. He pulled McGregor’s arm, wrenching his whole body forward then used his other hand to punch him in the face. Donovan let go of his arm, letting him fall from the force of the strike.

  He was on his feet. He was ready to fight.

  McGregor was only momentarily stunned. He was facing Donovan, perfectly fine, a second later.

  This time, Donovan didn’t become weaker as he shielded himself from McGregor’s blows. He felt stronger with every passing minute. The formula worked on his insides like a super-drug.

  He wasn’t a Brigadier General and Army Specialist for nothing. When their strength matched, it was almost too easy for Donovan to win. His kicks and punches came faster and faster, overwhelming McGregor’s defense with a flurry of limbs. Donovan landed a kick to side of McGregor’s left leg, right where the patella—or knee bone—connected the femur and tibia. The joint snapped under the pressure, sending a rebounding crack through the room, leaving the leg bent awkwardly inward.

  McGregor stumbled, groaning in pain. He snapped the bones back into place, screaming through his teeth.

  Donovan landed another hit to McGregor’s left shoulder. The arm sagged at his side as it dislocated from the socket. Donovan didn’t give him a chance to pop it back into place. He swung again, aiming for McGregor’s weak side.

  McGregor spun with a flourish, raising his right arm to block Donovan. The pain from his arm slowed him, though, and he didn’t keep his arm moving through the blocking motion, which would have lessened the impact. McGregor only raised his arm to cover his face in a desperate move of defense. Donovan’s punch landed directly on McGregor’s arm, adding another snapped bone to the collection.

  McGregor was unable to defend himself when Donovan kicked him under the chin, sending him flying. Donovan wasn’t even out of breath. He walked calmly to McGregor’s prone form and bent down next to him.

  McGregor was still aware—the kick hadn’t knocked him out. He looked up at Donovan with an amused smile.

  Donovan pulled an e-gun from his holster and jammed it into McGregor’s cheek.

  “I should kill you now.”

  McGregor’s expression didn’t change. “Go ahead.” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t make a difference to the movement now.”

  “I suppose not,” Donovan said. “What I’m trying to figure out is how scum like you became the leader of the Army and Space Force. You’re the General in my time.”

  “Is that so?” McGregor said. “Then Tobias and I accomplish far more than we ever thought.”

  “You’ll regret your partnership soon enough,” Donovan said, watching McGregor’s smirking face. “You’re the one who sent me back here in the first place. Why would you do that, huh? Certainly not to give Tobias a hand. There was absolutely no advantage for Tobias in having me sent back.”

  For the first time McGregor looked unsettled, but he quickly regained his composure. “Maybe I knew you’d be trouble and got rid of you before you could interrupt our plans.”

  “You would have just had me killed on a mission,” Donovan said. “Far easier, don’t you think? Sending me back could never guarantee that I’d die.”

  McGregor’s face twitched as he tried to cover his confusion with bravado. “It doesn’t matter what you say. You’re probably lying. We’ve already won and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Donovan chuckled then found himself laughing uncontrollably. After a few minutes he sobered. “He’s going to betray you. I don’t know when, but he will. That’s why you switched back to our side. Except, in the original time line… no one knew about your betrayal. Now that you’ve sent me back, who knows what will become of you?”

  McGregor snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  Donovan stood up and walked away. McGregor’s voice chased him out of the room. “You’re going to die, Knight! You’re going to die along with the rest of them!”

  Donovan headed back to the library. Now that he had the strength, he was going to kill Tobias and end this. He ran into a few clones on the way but they were nothing he couldn’t handle. Tobias didn’t have much fighting skill—the strength and extra senses didn’t help his clones against Donovan’s superior combat experience.

  Soon they were flooding the halls. Experience mattered, but so did numbers. Donovan was just lucky the halls forced them to attack him only four at a time. Donovan fought them off one by one. Their bodies began to pile up creating a barrier of protection. Blood streamed across the floor. Still they came.

  Donovan became frustrated. He would never find the real Tobias like this.

  From nowhere, a figure flickered into his vision out of the corner of his eye. Donovan had spun around, leg already flying through the air, when he realized that it was Tracee. He stopped himself mid-kick, almost losing his balance.

  Tracee winked and jumped into the fray, killing clones left and right with the speed of a viper. Donovan was amazed—she didn’t even have the E-X45.

  “We have to get out of here,” Tracee said, shooting a clone through the head with a gun. “There are too many of them.”

  “I have to find Tobias. I have to put an end to this.”

  “You’ll never find him amongst all
these. He could be anywhere. You can’t do it without the brain wave tracker.”

  Donovan knew she was right but didn’t want to admit it. He put all of his anger into a kick that sent a clone flying over the barrier of bodies and careening into its comrades. They all fell over like pins at a bowling alley.

  “Let’s go!” he said.

  They ran, climbing up the hill of bodies where the flood of clones seemed thinnest. They hacked and fired their way through until most of the clones were behind them and only a few came at them from the front, late to the battle. They ran past them without engaging.

  Donovan heard the stampede of footsteps behind them but didn’t look back. Tracee kept pace beside him. She had to have been far better trained than Donovan had imagined, to be able to keep up with him now. She didn’t even seem that tired. Donovan was about to turn a corner to go back to the clone room, but Tracee pulled him in the opposite direction.

  “This way! It’s faster.”

  Donovan followed her down hall after hall, wondering how she knew where she was going. Eventually the clones fell behind, their footsteps mere echoes in the halls.

  Donovan collided hard with a moving body. They both fell to the ground. Donovan jumped back up ready to fight but was surprised at who had shown up.

  Captain Brian Umar lay crumpled on the ground, moaning and holding his side. Donovan helped him struggle to his feet.

  “Good God that hurt.” Captain Umar clasped his hands on either side of his head and stared straight ahead. Donovan recognized the gesture. To Captain Umar’s eyes, the world was spinning.

  “What are you doing here, Umar?” Donovan asked. “You’re not a fighter.”

  “You’re right,” Brian said. “But I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. Jonathan helped create a path for me to get in here. I’ve been wandering around looking for you. Luckily, I only met a few clones.” He held up his gun. “Easy.”

  “Is Jonathan okay?” Donovan asked.

  “Alive without injury last time I saw him. But that could change at any moment. They’re strong, and there are too many of them. There aren’t enough skilled soldiers to fight them off.”

  “Then we’d better get going,.” Donovan said.

  “Wait,” Brian said. “I found the cure. It was in the basement of the fort—in plain sight, just like you said. You were right. They’re recreating it now. They’ll make enough to cure everyone.”

  “Perfect!” Tracee said. “Then that means…”

  “All we need to do is kill Tobias and destroy this place,” Brian said. “I’ve brought something to help us out.” He pulled a small, round object out of his jacket. It was made of silver metal. A blue light pulsed through its many cracks.

  Donovan and Tracee back away quickly.

  “How the hell did you get that thing?” Tracee asked.

  “The General gave it to me,” Brian answered. “Don’t worry, I know how to work it.”

  He reached to push one of the buttons.

  “Don’t!” Donovan said. He rushed forward and pulled back Brian’s hand. “If you push that button, it’ll detonate!”

  “Oh.” He looked stunned. “Oh… oh… Oh my God, I almost killed us! I thought it was the twenty-minute timer.”

  “How about you hand that over to me?” Tracee said, stepping forward tentatively as she swallowed hard.

  Brian placed it gingerly in her hand.

  “There,” she said, pushing a button so the ball stopped glowing. “Safe and sound. It’s in sleep mode for now.”

  “Quick, Brian,” Donovan said, “give me an update. What’s going on? How did you guys know I wasn’t a traitor?”

  Brian recounted the events of the last few days. “Now all we need to do is get all of the troops a safe distance from the building and blow it up from the inside. We couldn’t fire any missiles—the lab is protected by an electromagnetic field. The longest countdown on that detonator is twenty minutes. Do you think that’s enough time?”

  “It’ll have to be,” Donovan said. “Activate it, Tracee. Then we’ll make a run for it. We’ll go straight to the troops and have them fall back to the ships.”

  Tracee turned the bomb back on. “Get ready.”

  She looked around the hall. Spotting a rather large display of miniature statues of scientists, she ran to it and placed the ball behind one of the figures. She reached up and held her finger over the timer button.

  “Get ready to run,” she said, then took a deep breath and pushed it. The ball hummed quietly. Tracee ran passed them at top speed. They followed behind her.

  Suddenly, at regular intervals, black metal squares descended from the ceilings. They flickered on and began projecting the same image over and over on the walls. It was Tobias.

  “What’s going on?” Tracee asked.

  “I don’t know,” Donovan said. “Just keep running. Get us out of here!”

  Tobias’s voice sounded all around them.

  “Greetings, people of earth,” he said. “I am sending this message from far away. I’ve hacked into the government’s broadcasting system so that all may hear these words.”

  A pit of trepidation formed in Donovan’s gut. What was Tobias planning now?

  “My name is Tobias Knight. Many of you may know who I am. I regret to inform you that your government has been lying to you. Everyone around you is sick or dying and you don’t know why. I do.

  “The government was conducting experiments on human friendly viruses. There was an accident, causing exposure to one of the most deadly of them. From the government base of Fort Belvoir, it spread to the rest of you. Now you’re all dying and no one has any answers.”

  What was Tobias talking about? No one was sick yet, no one was dying.

  That wouldn’t happen until…

  It suddenly hit Donovan that the feed they were seeing on the walls wasn’t broadcasting to the earth of 2176. This message was being sent to the future.

  Chapter 23

  “Even when I’m sick and depressed, I love life.”

  —Arthur Rubinstein

  May 20, 2258

  Santa Monica, CA

  Nona Knight

  Nona lay in the hospital bed and stared at the T.V. Her illness had only progressed since her husband left.

  Donovan had disappeared without an explanation. He didn’t answer his watch when she called. She contacted General McGregor, but he said he hadn’t seen Donovan since his last mission. He put a search team together immediately.

  That was over a week ago. They were still looking.

  Nona was sweating profusely despite the bags of ice packed around her body. She was beginning to fear that she would never see her husband again. The thought of it made the fever feel comforting, like a hot blanket on a cold night. The only thing that kept her fighting was her children. She couldn’t leave them alone. She couldn’t leave them without both parents.

  Nona kept herself up late into the night wondering what could have happened to Donovan. She just knew someone had killed him in some slum—his body was probably rotting away in the street. Nona could think of no plausible reason why he would have gone to a slum.

  Nona closed her eyes against the glare of the T.V. It made her head hurt. She wished someone would turn it off. She was too weak to get up and do it herself. The remote lay out of her reach.

  Nona had just decided to call a nurse when a familiar voice came through the screen. She was utterly confused at first—she thought that in addition to the fever she was beginning to see things.

  As the voice went on, though, Nona realized that it was real. Tobias, Donovan’s grandfather, was really on the T.V.

  “The government was conducting experiments on human friendly viruses,” Tobias said. “There was an accident, causing exposure to one of the most deadly of them. From the government base of Fort Belvoir, it spread to the rest of you. Now you’re all dying and no one has any answers.”

  That was right. None of the doctors there could explain No
na’s illness. They said that it was a really bad bug—that it was up to her immune system to fight it off. There was nothing they could do but treat the symptoms, keep her cool.

  “I have good news for you,” Tobias continued. “I have created a cure. I’ve been hiding from the government for months. They’ve been trying to kill me ever since they learned that I wished to expose them. Many of you have seen reports about me saying that I have fallen into mental decline. That is not true. It’s propaganda created by the government. I’m alive and well.”

  If Tobias wasn’t sick, Nona thought, then who was the man they had visited in the hospital all these years? Something wasn’t right. This man was lying. He couldn’t be the real Tobias… Or was the sick man in that very hospital not the real thing?

  The thoughts swirled in her head making her brain throb. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. It hurt to even try to think this through.

  “The army is attacking me as I speak.”

  Nona saw footage of some rocky landscape, a tall white building in the background. Rows of soldiers marched neatly forward. Commanders floated above them on lift pads, shouting orders.

  “If you wish to save yourselves with this cure, you must help me. You must fight for it. I am no match for them. I knew this day would come and I prepared for it. There are hidden teleportation devices all over your cities. The government uses them for special missions. I will show them to you. They have been programmed to take you straight here, to me—to the army that is fighting to destroy your only hope for survival. Join me, if you wish. If not, I will die here. Alone, with the cures.”

  There was frantic rushing outside Nona’s room. The hospital seemed to jump suddenly into chaos. Summoning all her strength, Nona climbed from the bed. She edged into the hallway. People were running back and forth, frantic. The motion made her dizzy.

  Nona was confused. So confused and so tired.

  It couldn’t be true, could it? Had the government really created this virus? Is that why Donovan had disappeared? Had he found out? Had the government killed him?