by Andy Remic
They grappled, spinning.
Gol pulled the Nex close, slamming his head into its face once, twice, three times, four times - until it went limp and they were spinning, spinning and falling and the river loomed up suddenly close and frighteningly real and—
They plunged below the waters, the Nex first, Gol wrapped closely in the creature’s loose embrace. The force of the impact seemed to knock all life from Gol. Blackness swamped him, and he felt the second impact against the river bottom with a blow of pain pounding through every limb. He felt the Nex’s body come apart beneath him, and felt his own frame smashed against the river bed like a corpse flung by the sea at an unforgiving wall of rock—
Blackness poured like dark honey into his mind.
And then ... nothing.
Gol had awoken on the river bank, both cliffs towering far above. Ten Nex stood around him, their copper eyes staring into his face.
‘Is it dead?’
‘Not yet.’
Cold laughter rippled.
‘Drag it to the truck. Durell might want to question it.’
Gol caught a glimpse of the silver disk, the disk he had given his life to protect, shoved beneath dark grey clothing. He was dragged along the ground and heaved into the back of a truck where pain screamed at him from every part of his battered body. Unconsciousness claimed him.
Darkness, as violent jolts hammered through the truck’s suspension. Gol kept his eyes tight shut and did an internal diagnostic. He could feel both legs and one arm broken, and something was wrong with his spine. He also thought his jaw was broken. The jolts from the truck did not help. They fed the pain a diet of need and Gol welcomed the darkness when it finally - eventually - came once again.
When he awoke, bright lights were shining into his face.
‘This will hurt a little,’ said Mace, smiling down as the needle slid into Gol’s throat. The burning came over him as a rush and he screamed as Durell approached, copper eyes staring down with a hint of... compassion ...
‘Welcome back, my oldest friend.’
‘Fuck you, Durell, you are a traitor ...’
‘Ahh ... we will speak again in a little while. Mace, take the sample for the clone.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The pain had consumed Gol as the liquid burned through his veins and the insects filled up his mouth. Then he was eaten and swallowed and raped by the Avelach.
Gol opened his eyes in the present - and breathed calmly. Rain clattered against the windows and the night had fallen as Gol had relived his transformation from human to Nex.
He smiled.
Strange, he mused, how betrayal is all about perspective.
But now he was Nex, now he was part of Durell’s army - and now he could see everything clearly.
And still ...
Something was wrong: a splinter in his brain, a tumour in his soul. He knew now that he was fighting for the right side and that becoming a Nex had saved his life and transformed him into a superior life form - even if they had used different experimental inhibitors so that his Nex status was slightly - how would they describe it? - different. They would destroy the evil named Spiral. They would turn it, as Durell had said, into a New Eden. They would rule, and they would be like gods looking down from Olympus ...
Gol smiled.
His body relaxed.
He felt the slow pulse of blood through his Nex veins.
Gol uncurled from his meditative crouch and leapt to the floor. He padded over and poured himself a brandy, allowing the liquid fire to scorch his throat and warm his belly.
Something disturbed him.
Gol wasn’t like the other Nex.
He didn’t crave the cold, like the other Nex.
And although his emotions were subdued, he still felt empathy to a greater extent than the cold copper-eyed killers ...
And his eyes—
Something had happened - or, more importantly, had not happened to his eyes. Most Nex had copper orbs, a side-product of the inhibitors used and the Blending process ... but for some reason, this physical transformation had not affected Gol—
And it set him apart.
He was different.
A mongrel among pure-breed Nex.
Gol moved to the window, staring out at the rain. He sipped his brandy and the face of Natasha popped into his head, surprising him. My long-lost love, he thought with a wry smile. My child, I wonder where you are now? I wonder what you are doing?
Still fighting for Spiral?
These thoughts were idle because he knew that deep down in his soul the emotional link between himself and his daughter was severed. And despite his intelligence telling him that this was a part of being Nex, still something burned deep within him, a tiny candle flame which didn’t so much feed his emotions as make him remember what it used to feel like.
‘It’s better to be alive, yes?’
‘Kattenheim, you made me jump.’
Kattenheim padded across the rugs and poured himself a brandy. Then he turned, red eyes surveying Gol with interest - with a sparkle of scarred intelligence that made Gol wary.
‘Am I right?’
‘Yes, but that’s a strange question for you to be asking.’ Gol moved and pulled on a thick jumper and a pair of heavy combat trousers. Dressed, he turned to stare out at the rain once more.
‘I’ve seen you ... and Durell has seen you. We understand - that you are different from the other Nex. This is not a problem.’
‘But?’ Gol turned, laughing softly in his deep melodic voice. ‘There is always a but...’
‘Durell trusts you implicitly.’
Gol’s deep brown-eyed stare met the blood-scarred gaze of Kattenheim and he saw nothing but strength and single-mindedness there. A focus of purpose. The intent of the insane. Gol breathed deeply, then sighed, moved to the window and looked out over the rain-swept forests, hazy in the distance. ‘You, however, do not trust me. You see me as a threat. You think Durell is mistaken in his trust because of our old bonds, our old ties. You think he is misguided.’
‘Yes.’ Kattenheim moved closer and Gol could feel the threat. His body tensed involuntarily, awaiting the first blow as the Nex part of him fired into immediate readiness ...
Gol turned his back on Kattenheim.
‘You couldn’t have killed the women and children,’ said Kattenheim softly.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I cannot explain it.’
‘I can. You are not fully Nex ... the Avelach Skein Blending was interrupted; the machine did its work healing you, and the process of merging you with your insect companions had begun ... but it happened when the war was at its height. Mace was called away during the process - it was left incomplete. You are not fully Nex. You never were.’
Gol shrugged. ‘It’s of little consequence.’
‘No,’ said Kattenheim. ‘It is of great consequence ... You are a half-breed, Gol, and I think you are the weakest link in the chain to our future. I am watching you - and the Nex are watching you. It was my suggestion that we either finish the process - but apparently this is an impossibility - or ... kill you.’
Gol turned with a snarl. ‘Fuck you, Kattenheim. I believe in what we are fighting for - if you want to fuck with me then we can take it down to the kill trough. Now, if you’ve nothing constructive to add then I suggest you fuck off and complete your duties - we have a lot of work to do, the QHub can still be refined and I need my sleep.’
Kattenheim turned and left. Gol smiled, releasing a deep breath.
Still got the fucking fire, he thought.
I can still kick some fucking ass—
But Kattenheim?
Gol had seen him fight, and knew deep down that he could not beat the man ... the Nex, he corrected himself. Kattenheim was just too fast. Too deadly. But then, it didn’t matter because they were on the same side. Right?
The same side?
Gol stared out at the rain, which fell in vast
vertical sheets, driving across the landscape, across the trees and slopes beyond the castle, running in cold rivulets and streams along the crushed-stone road that led from the heavy steel gates down through the dark forests and into the valley below.
I’m not sure which side that is any more.
SIU Transcript
CLASSIFIED SR12/7252/SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS UNIT
Hacked ECube interception
Date: September 2XXX
California CT15; Sector XH
Seismic Reactor Research Facilities [SRRF]
Dr Brian,
In short, we are deeply confused. The recent devastating quakes measuring between 7.2 and 9.6 on the Richter Magnitude scale which have hit Beijing, Salvador, Moscow, London, Zermatt, Bangkok, Berlin, Stockholm, Paris, Budapest, Tokyo, Baghdad and New York do not relate directly to previously understood contours of seismic activity. Quakes have always followed patterns - the contours of geological plates and known fault lines in the world crust. This new breed of quake, however, does not seem confined to such known parameters and areas of historical and recent seismic disturbance.
Here at the SRRF we find this extremely disturbing, and combined with the sudden flurry of seismic activity apparently on a worldwide scale, would go so far as to suggest a moderate state of global emergency. Something seems to be happening to the world which we cannot understand nor link to any physical activity - earthbound or solar. In short, we are stumped. Suggested courses of action are:
- Intercontinental surveys of known faults and suspected recently discovered fault lines
- Satellite-instigated land and sea surveys to be carried out within the next 3 6 hours
- Undersea exploration subs to digitally scan recently discovered fault lines or expected fault lines
Please advise ASAP.
Dr Jeremiah Sulokov
CHAPTER 9
THE HUNT
The small black helicopter howled through the storm, rain pounding from its insect-like shell as rotors sliced through the downpour and low-lying storm clouds. Below, dark fields rolled into one and occasionally the chopper skirted a town or village, its lights glowing distantly under the storm’s onslaught. Mongrel peered down, trying to work out their location.
‘You know where we are?’
Carter, cigarette held in one fist, ignored Mongrel’s question as smoke curled up past his face and gathered in the tiny cabin of the chopper. Mongrel scowled, and leant forward to Fenny.
‘Where we are?’
‘Near Merthyr Tydfil.’
‘Is that close to the Sp1_plot?’
‘Another couple of minutes. Better get the ropes ready.’
‘Roger that.’ Mongrel smiled his toothless smile.
‘You OK, Carter?’
Carter flashed him a weak smile, then allowed it to drop from his battered face. He dropped his cigarette, crushing its glowing tip under his heavy boot. ‘Fuck it, come on.’
They moved into position and each readied their coils of rope, one on each side of the fast attack chopper. Suddenly, Fenny slewed the vehicle around and both Carter and Mongrel stared down into black nothingness. The rotors thumped and the wind howled.
‘Out, guys.’ Fenny grinned, curls bobbing, and flicked the release.
The doors swung open and Carter and Mongrel dropped their ropes into the darkness. Carter tightened his gloves, and watched Mongrel disappear into the rain and the black.
‘You’re a good lad, Fenny.’
Fenny nodded, still smiling. ‘Send me a postcard, eh, Carter?’
‘Where I’m going, you wouldn’t want to see the sights.’
Then Carter was gone, dropping down the rope which hissed under his leather gloves. Rain and cold struck through him immediately, making him gasp, and he pulled tight just above the ground, bobbing for a second, then jumping free and landing in a crouch. Trees reared around the two Spiral agents and they found themselves buried in the depths of a storm-darkened forest.
The black chopper leapt into the sky, trailing the fast-ropes and reeling them in as it climbed. Within seconds only the sounds of the storm could be heard, howling and grumbling.
‘Which way?’
Mongrel pointed, then stowed away the gentle glow of his ECube.
They set off at a steady but fast run up a steep incline and deeper into the woods. The going was tough under the heavy downpour, the woodland floor slippery and treacherous with mud, branches and a layer of leaf detritus. Dressed all in black, the two Spiral agents dropped to a crouch. Both carried M24 carbines that fired 5.46mm bullets and had MicroX2 mags, which could hold sixty ‘compressed’ bullets each.
‘How far?’
‘Three klicks.’
They ran, pushing on through the rain. Darkness swallowed them and occasionally they would halt and check their ECubes, scanning for possible enemy activity. After the quake in London and the sudden re-emergence of Nex soldiers cutting Spiral agents in half as they fled the building, Spiral found itself in a high state of emergency.
The enemy, it would seem, were far from dead.
Carter pointed his carbine into the darkness. Below his clothing nestled his trusty old Browning and within his head squatted thoughts of death and revenge.
They moved at an easier pace now, closing on the SP1_plot in an old abandoned farmhouse. Its walls were overgrown with vines and ferns, the roof long ago fallen in, leaving rubble cascading in terracotta waterfalls across blankets of moss. Mongrel’s ECube showed no sign of enemy activity.
Mongrel rose to march ahead, a smile on his face, his head turning - but Carter grabbed him, dragged him back down to the ground and placed his finger against his lips. Mongrel nodded, and slowly Carter eased himself forward on his belly, rolling down his balaclava and allowing himself to blend with the darkened trees and the soft floor of the water-soaked forest.
Inch by inch he moved forward, his eyes and ears alert. After every inch he would halt - check around himself in all directions, listen, make sure of his next small step.
For long minutes he lay in the rain, then edged forward. Wait, move. Wait, move. Wait... move ...
And his sharp eyes saw them.
Nex.
Motionless: waiting, watching. One was perched on a low wall against the farmhouse itself, merging chameleonlike against the tangle of ferns in the gloom. The second crouched just inside the farmhouse doorway, and the third - the hardest to spot - was squatting under a bush beside a tall oak tree which spread out its branches to touch the leaning outer wall of the derelict building.
Fuckers, thought Carter.
‘And even more serious,’ whispered Kade, ‘is the fact that the Spiral plot has been compromised. Bubbled. They know the location ... I wonder if they know you’re on your way?’
Slowly, with murderous care, Carter retreated.
Inch by painful inch—
‘What is it?’
‘Nex,’ said Carter.
‘Let’s take them ...’
‘Wait. Don’t go fucking rushing in there - check the ECube again.’ They both watched the tiny face of the electronic cube. Carter tutted when it scanned, again and again, showing no sign of Nex intruders - or of any life whatsoever - in the vicinity.
‘Come on, Carter,’ growled Mongrel. ‘We used to fucking eat these bastards on the SAD missions ... pile in, blow them to fucking Kingdom Come. No problems ...’
‘This is different,’ said Carter.
‘How?’
‘I can’t explain it. Something has changed.’
‘You’re fucking imagining it - come on!’ Mongrel moved forward. Cursing, Carter moved off to one side to provide him with cover. The carbine was slippery in his gloved hands and he checked the safety, nudging the mag to make sure that it was firmly in place.
Mongrel moved forward through the trees.
Carter circled off to the right, putting distance between himself and his comrade, positioning them for an attack on two fronts. He crouched, rubbed rain
from his face and eyes, and fought to control his breathing.
He eased himself forward and caught sight of the Nex on the wall. He halted, pacing himself, then heard the blast of Mongrel’s carbine sound from the woods as it punched bullets through the door frame.
Carter lifted his own M24. The Nex on the ground jerked its head left, copper eyes staring straight at Carter. It seemed somehow different from the Nex on the SAD missions and those he had met out in Switzerland. It moved with such incredible speed that Carter was still rolling as the bullets from its weapon tore a line of smashed twigs and shredded leaves into the air and cut a vertical stripe up a tree. Carter rolled, his carbine bucking in his gloved hands but the Nex was gone between the trees—
A vanished ghost.
Carter could hear Mongrel’s gun. And return fire. Bullets zipped through leaves, slammed into tree trunks.
Carter scrambled right, then sprinted down a small slope and around towards the back of the house, trying to catch sight of the Nex. Then he saw it. Their eyes met and those copper orbs drilled him and he smiled a bitter smile and both their guns roared at once, and Carter felt the breeze of bullets ripping past his face as the carbine barked in his hands and the bullets picked the Nex up, flipping it over to crash into a tree, drilled and bleeding and—
It crawled to its knees and tried to change mags.
Carter sprinted forward, his boot smashing against its face and sending the Nex rolling against the tree’s roots. Carter placed his boot on its chest and its head lifted to look at him coolly.
‘Luck,’ it hissed, its voice soft and asexual, copper eyes glowing.
Carter grinned. ‘There’s no such fucking thing,’ he said, and drilled the Nex’s face full of metal.
‘Carter!’
Mongrel’s voice was tinged with panic. Carter sprinted up the incline and dropped to his belly. He caught the muzzle flash of guns firing from the edge of the house, and crawled forward until he was beside an old, crumbling outbuilding.