The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus

by Jon Sourbeer,

  Danger. S.T.s. Two. Right. Celes signaled.

  Roger. Move Left. Janus hand flashed quickly. He watched the two S.T.s as they loaded an empty crate with materials scrounged by another. With the crate close to overflowing with salvaged tubes, circuits, and parts, the S.T.s lifted the huge load and began trudging back from whence they came.

  Celes switched from shorthand to the longer form of signaling. Where (are) they going(?)

  Wouris moved forward so that Janus and Celes could see her hands. (That’s what) we (are) going to find out.

  It did not take long for them to reach their goal. They stood on the highest level of a multileveled room, full of salvaged equipment, partially melted computer stations, and warped glass. S.T.s, Inferni, and unarmored officers swarmed the room like ants.

  Janus, Celes and Wouris wisely pulled themselves back. In one corner stood a large stack of crates stamped with the Cerberus emblem, Janus signaled with a hand at them. Black ash covered the floor, muffling the sound of their footsteps against the constant clunking of S.T. boots. With a tiny lull in the S.T.s streaming in and out of the tunnels below, the three quickly made a move, crossing the short open space and retreating into the darkness of the highest corner of the room. Janus could just barely make out a raised platform that jutted out on the ground floor.

  An Infernus rushing across the open space caught his attention. “Lord Delacroix!”

  A voice full of contempt responded to the Infernus’ statement, “What, Infernus?”

  “Three new shipments of Immutium have arrived from the Southern Cerberus facility as per your orders. Overlord Middleton wishes that you know she sends her warmest regards to your operations.”

  A man strode into view on the raised platform. He wore black armor, layered with plates in a manner similar to ODIN Adept armor, but an attached cape gave him a more regal look. Inlaid silver formed circular patterns along the corners of the cape, while broad epaulettes were covered with the white hair that flowed down to his shoulders and hid his face. His posture demonstrated that he held himself above all others and expected unquestioning obedience. He placed his hands on the railing of the platform, and stared at the officer from his position. The fearsome looking Infernus took a step back.

  Delacroix’s voice lightened slightly, as if he took pleasure in the officer’s reaction, but the underlying contempt was still present. “Excellent. Unload the Immutium into Section 3B. Take the rest to the factory levels, Overlord Halifax will see to it there.”

  “Sir, you don’t want the Immutium moved to Section 4D? What about our delivery?”

  Delacroix laughed, “Oh, I don’t think the Mercs of ODIN will need the rest of their payment.”

  “Yes, Great Executor,” the Infernus saluted, backed up several steps, and then hesitated, as if he had something else to say.

  Delacroix seemed to notice, because he cocked his head and asked with an edge to his voice, “Is there something else?”

  The Infernus officer stood up straight and said, “My Lord, Overlord Middleton regrets to inform you that all further shipments have been temporarily suspended due to some unwanted attention from the SPARTAN Mercenary group. The SPARTAN citadel has been seen North of Lightemann’s Ridge.”

  Delacroix began to slowly descend the flight of stairs that connected the platform to the main floor, keeping his face down as he did so. He stopped halfway and stared at the Infernus. “Tell Middleton,” he paused, “that she should put her affairs in order, and quickly, or she will answer to me. Do you understand? Now go.” The Infernus, who continued to back up as Delacroix had descended, saluted and shouted, “Yes, my Lord Executor!” and then turned and ran back into the tunnel, disappearing from view.

  Executor Delacroix surveyed the bustling Cerberus S.T.s from his vantage point. All seemed intent to avoid his gaze and sped by faster. Even the flow of officers moving back and forth between the platform and the floor seemed to stop as if they were afraid to intrude upon him.

  Placing his hands behind his back, Delacroix slowly descended the rest of the stairs to the main floor. Janus struggled to get a look at his obscured face, fascinated by the dominance of the figure before him.

  A uniformed, but unarmored man ran up to Delacroix and saluted, “Lord Delacroix.”

  Delacroix tilted his head towards the man, and he quickly handed Delacroix a video transmitter saying, “Overlord Halifax wishes to speak with you, Executor.” Delacroix nodded as the man hastily backed away, and then fled the scene.

  “What is it, Halifax?” Delacroix’s smooth voice said into the transmitter.

  “Sir, belts 6, 10, and 14 have stopped working again. I’ve sent men to repair the system, but it looks like, from preliminary reports, it will take some time to get them back up and running.”

  Delacroix’s voice remained eerily calm. “Halifax, I want those belts back on-line within the hour.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible, Executor. We are working with limited personnel and resources. The factory was never intended to be run at these levels.”

  Delacroix’s voice rose suddenly, “Don’t tell me how this factory is supposed to run! I know what it’s supposed to produce!” The workers in the room froze, looking for escape routes. Delacroix glanced around and the workers immediately started working at double speed. He calmed slightly. “I need our production maxed, Halifax. Every hour we lose is another opportunity for discovery and I have spent too long working on this to have it taken away! I am already getting reports that Middleton is under increased scrutiny, and it has already taken too much time to get the facility back up and running to this point. We cannot afford to wait. What do you think will happen once we are discovered?”

  “The factory will be fixed within the hour, Executor.”

  “Good.”

  Janus curiously watched Delacroix sigh and pick up a beaker that had been carelessly dropped upon the floor, yet had survived its fall. Delacroix was slowly turning the beaker over in his hands when another Security Trooper ran up.

  “Executor!”

  Delacroix looked up swiftly at the trooper. “What?” he barked.

  This trooper quailed under the eye of the Executor, and stuttered for a moment. “Uh…sir, I mean, my Lord, uh… Our guards have just reported that Titan Security forces are sweeping the area above the bunker for a group of ODIN Mercenaries.”

  Delacroix’s voice exploded, “What?” All activity in the room stopped.

  “What are you telling me for? Seal up all the entrances! We cannot be discovered here!”

  “Of course, Lord Delacroix!” The trooper quickly ran off. A flurry of officers flew by the Executor and quickly directed the working S.T.s into action. Celes touched Janus on the arm; he turned his head quickly, startled.

  Time to go. She signaled with two hands.

  Janus nodded. He looked back at the Executor, who now stood alone in the center of the room. Delacroix took one last look around the lab, and then hurled the glass beaker into the wall and uttered a howl of rage.

  Chapter 32: Parting Gifts

  Janus and Celes hurried behind Wouris as she led them on a furious dash back along the catwalks. Although it seemed unlikely that the S.T.s would ever bother checking the catwalks, the Cerberus S.T.s could still seal their exit.

  Evading the flurry of activity, however, did not prove difficult. The S.T.s seemed single-minded in their task – which was to reach their designated positions and seal the entrances; not to search. And unencumbered by their lighter, smaller armor, it did not take long for the three to quickly outdistance the S.T.s as they raced through the complex.

  Janus flashed a word to Celes and Wouris as they ran.

  Typical.

  Wouris shook her head and Celes smiled.

  When they finally returned to the darkened hall connecting the factory to the supply room, they found the door already open and the two S.T.s they had passed earlier leaning against opposite walls, complaining to each other.

  �
�Stupid Captain Burroughs. Doesn’t seem to care that this stupid entrance is sealed up. ‘Overlord Middleton wants all entrances secure.’ ‘Overlord Middleton will be angry with us if we don’t follow orders.’ Damn, I hate him.”

  “Tell me about it, ‘Neff. First we’re sent to repair that stupid old belt, and now we’re guarding a collapsed entrance. I was telling Reynolds just a little while ago that I don’t even know why we’re here. I mean, what do they want with this old factory anyway? It’s been producing a ton of suits that can’t be custom fitted. They’re cheap, they’re low quality. How are we supposed to use them? It’s absolutely pointless!”

  “Oh, don’t get me started—” There was a loud pop and both troopers slumped over and fell to the ground, lifeless.

  “Got mine first,” Janus bragged to Celes.

  “Oh, did not.”

  Wouris just shook her head.

  The three took a few moments more to dispose of the evidence of their infiltration, using the S.T.’s own Zeus rifles and a sprinkling of some of the Immutium from the collapsed cavern to create the appearance of a fight.

  It seemed believable enough to Janus, S.T.s were not known for their wisdom or mild tempers, and the promise of even small riches would likely be enough to set a pair of them off.

  “Good,” Wouris said, “That should cover our tracks well enough.”

  “Do you think they’ll believe the pair of them shot each other in the chest? Seems a little unlikely to me,” Celes commented.

  “They’re S.T.s, Celes,” Janus said, “They’ll, in all likelihood, be found by S.T.s. I don’t think they will look too closely. Besides, the tunnel is supposed to be blocked; I don’t think they will consider someone coming this way.”

  Wouris nodded, “And besides, we don’t really have that many options. It will do well enough, so let’s get out of here before we actually run into more of them.”

  It was morning when they left the bunker, clad in the three Infernus suits. A full night had passed while they journeyed underground, but they were soon bounding with ease towards the evac point. Wouris, however, motioned for them to slow, as if suddenly remembering an important detail.

  “One last thing before we go.” She pulled out a detonator. Janus and Celes looked curiously at her. “I’ve been testing it periodically since the attack. Unfortunately, while they were jamming all the signals I haven’t been able to activate it. I decided I should leave it alone for awhile.”

  She pushed the button, and a huge ball of flame erupted to the South. “Oh dear. Apparently they forgot to disarm the charges before they stopped jamming the signal,” she said cheerily.

  Celes smiled and said, “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Chapter 33: Returning

  Lyn, Ramirez, and Marcus all greeted them eagerly when they jumped onto the Longboat.

  “We knew you guys would make it!” Lyn exclaimed, as Ramirez and Marcus helped them out of their large suits.

  With her armor off, Celes quickly gave each of them a hug, “Well, we were worried for all of you!”

  “I wasn’t,” Marcus smiled at Celes. She looked perplexed, but he quickly added, “I knew they couldn’t get you that easy.”

  He released her and turned to Janus, extending his hand, “All of you.”

  Janus nodded in respect as the pair clasped hands, “I’m glad you all made it out. Who else survived?”

  Lyn glanced at Wouris, “Well, we did pretty well, considering. Ramirez and I made it out with Holloway and Kirsten. Jones and Valers made it back to the beach before it got too crazy. We ran into Marcus along the way, and he had Baker, Conor, and Nathans with him. We lost Byrons on the way out, his Longboat got hit on the fly. Roderick got taken out on the run back to the beach.”

  “I lost Thomas, Browning, and Freeham to a squad of Inferni.” Marcus said.

  Wouris grimaced. “They went down fighting, though,” he added.

  Lyn piped in, “Marcus really did you proud, Wouris. His squad saved the team from Rolan’s Rangers. But…we don’t know what happened to Bynes, Alexis, Hastings, and Young.” Lyn added hesitantly.

  Janus shook his head, “They didn’t make it.”

  Lyn nodded sorrowfully, “Right.” She paused and smiled. “The Praetor will be happy to know all of you made it though; especially you, Janus.” Janus raised his eyebrows. “He wants his blade back.”

  *

  Executor Delacroix kicked the limp arm of Security Trooper Neff, examining the two dead bodies. Several Troopers worked to clean up the mess.

  “It looks like they got into an argument and shot each other, my Lord,” Captain Burroughs was standing at attention at his side. “This type of thing isn’t uncommon. I apologize that it happened at such an inconvenient time.”

  “Indeed.” Delacroix stared at the bodies and then at the door to the supply room further down the hall.

  The Captain seemed to understand, “It’s a blocked entrance, Executor. I’ve had several sets of Security Troopers check it out. They have all reported that the room on the other side of the door is collapsed. No one could get in or out.”

  Delacroix gave one last look at the bodies and then with a swish of his cape left the hall, his white hair rippling behind.

  *

  When the Longboat finally landed within one of Valhalla’s docking bays, Janus couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Janus, Celes, and Wouris, had experienced an unpleasant, but brief bout of shivers and vomiting on the flight back. Despite their protests about feeling fine, the three were immediately ordered by Colonel Hawkes to proceed directly to the infirmary. Since the sickness appeared to be brief, Ramirez, Lyn, and Marcus were allowed to head straight to the Mess.

  “We haven’t been hungry since we found out so many people were missing or dead. Now that you’re back, I’m feeling better,” Lyn said cheerfully.

  Janus and Celes both felt their stomachs growl, and watched the friends longingly as they went.

  Wouris waved them on, “Come on, let’s go. We’ll be out of the infirmary in no time.”

  As they walked, Janus mentally retraced his steps from the first time he had come to join ODIN. It was exactly the same path that the Praetor had taken him along, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Dark clouds hung low over the horizon, blocking the sun and giving the grand hall of Valhalla a grey tinge. Even the waterfalls seemed muted, not bubbling and babbling as happily as they were before.

  The infirmary was nearly empty when they arrived. Only a few critically injured Adepts remained, and all of them were on the mend. Such a thing would have shocked Janus before he came to ODIN, having grown up in the slums.

  He had been compelled to study the Nanytes of the Adept camps after his shoulder’s quick recovery, however. With every Adept’s blood sample on file, a Nanyte injection could quickly be prepared that featured the antigens of that Adept’s blood cells. Once injected into the blood stream, the antigen protected Nanytes would appear to be part of the body and avoid attack by the immune system. Inside, the Nanyte could perform a multitude of operations, from tissue repair to actively fighting viruses. A full injection could heal most minor injuries in no time. Several injections could bring the most critically injured Adept back to battle status in a matter of days. Unfortunately, the Nanytes had a very limited lifespan themselves, and their batteries would quickly die. In a matter of weeks, every Nanyte within the body would be absorbed and disappear. While the Adept camps clearly benefited from them, Nanytes had only been adopted in limited quantities due to some of their disadvantages: Injections of too many Nanytes could create clots and other potentially fatal side effects, at least so Janus had read. Nanytes were also prohibitively expensive and difficult to produce, which explained why Corporations only made use of them for the upper castes. And worst of all, the Nanytes could only be maintained for a limited period of time outside of their generators, rendering them useless for battlefield medicine. Still, despite their flaws, Janus was only too glad to have access to
them. His ribs would heal in a day or two at most, as opposed to the weeks he had been laid out when he had broken his ribs in the slums.

  Praetor Jennings was waiting for them. He quickly sized up the group and then nodded for the doctors to proceed. “I want you all prepared for a debriefing at 0800 hours tomorrow, in the ‘Torch’. Sergeant, I would like to see you immediately following your examination.”

  Janus and Celes saluted and stood to attention, “Yes, sir.”

  Wouris followed suit after she was satisfied Janus and Celes held form appropriately, “Sir.”

  The Praetor made a casual wave, “Go on. Get fixed up.”

  “Thank you, sir,” they spoke together.

  By the time Janus, Celes, and Wouris left the infirmary it was nearly 2300 hours. Yalla had given them a clean bill of health, unable to explain their bout of sickness, but glad to say Janus’ ribs were healing remarkably well, even before the Nanytes. Wouris bade them good night and headed off to see the Praetor. Both Janus and Celes were tired, but the need for food moved them slowly in the direction of the mess.

  As they entered, they were met with a chorus of cheers. Adepts stood up and patted them on the back as they passed. Bewildered, Janus and Celes headed over to where Marcus, Lyn, and Ramirez were sitting. All three were smiling broadly at them.

  “What’s with the celebration?” Janus asked.

  “Eh, we couldn’t sleep,” Marcus grinned.

  “More like everyone was so pleased to have you come back alive. They couldn’t believe anyone else had made it. That, and the fact that everybody loved Wouris’ little finishing touch to your adventure,” Lyn added. “Hey, you still have that?” Lyn pointed to the sword still on Janus’ back.

  Janus looked surprised, “Yes, we saw the Praetor in the infirmary, but he didn’t ask for it and I didn’t think to give it back. I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t just throw it in the weapons locker.”