by Jake Bible
“Holy shit,” Colonel Owens whispered.
“I second that, Colonel,” General Millman added. “You’ll know best where to start, Ms. Laughlin. I’m looking forward to this briefing.”
Beth cleared her throat. “We need to start where it all fell apart, sir. Have you heard of the UDC’s Dr. Johnson?”
***
Mr. Stone stood on the ship’s deck and addressed the modified Shock troops before him, knowing his voice was being broadcast to those below, those on other ships and the troops already in place and moving into Russia.
“You are no longer LOMSD! The LOMSD, and the spoiled LOM, no longer exist!” he bellowed. “We are all under the command of the Three. Every single one of you was chosen for a specific reason, whether combat skill or a predisposition towards, well, alternative thinking.” He glanced over at Ms. Isely, who was smiling in approval. “As you know from the information uploaded directly, you are nearly invincible. When you are in combat, your viral nanotech will keep repairing any combat damage you sustain until your body’s energy level falls below life support parameters. At that time you will be switched to dead mode and forced to replenish your energy levels.”
Many of the troops grimaced, most stayed impassive, some grinned, the idea of having to consume human flesh to reboot their biological systems and reactivate neural controls, appealing to them.
“Our objective is to assert the domination of the Three and to push through Russia and into China,” Mr. Stone continued. “Once in China we will split, with one faction heading across the Chinese landscape to Beijing and a smaller faction pushing on to Tibet and the last American outpost. The world will fall under control of the Three and it is our jobs to make that happen. Understood?”
“UNDERSTOOD, SIR!” thousands of voices echoed across the ship’s deck and across what was left of Europe.
“Excellent! Now suit up! We are about to make land!” Mr. Stone shouted, the troops immediately activated their Shock suits and checked their systems.
“Very good, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely said, almost affectionately. “You are a born leader. Mr. Gein was right in picking you.”
“Thank you, Ms. Isely,” Mr. Stone nodded, his face impassive. “Any word on the state of St. Petersburg?”
“It has been overrun completely by the rogue infected,” Ms. Isely stated. “Those from the Russian research facility—The Shop, what a stupid name—took the rural areas quickly and the infection spread into St. Petersburg proper within the hour. I trust you will be able to control the spread and dispatch all unauthorized infected?”
“That is what you built me for,” Mr. Stone answered.
“We didn’t build you, Mr. Stone. We just improved you.”
“And I thank you for the improvement, Ms. Isely.”
“You are most welcome, Mr. Stone.”
Don’t forget about me, Mr. Stone, Reginald’s voice echoed in his head. I’m here too.
“No, Reginald, I won’t forget about you,” Mr. Stone replied.
“Is he speaking to you?” Ms. Isely asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“Yes, he is.”
“Any issues with the integration?”
Tell her it is a bit cramped in here, would you Stone? And I could really go for a cup of tea! Can you get me some tea, Stone?
“No integration issues to speak of,” Stone nodded as he stepped away.
“Where are you going, Mr. Stone? We are about to make land.”
He turned back slowly. “Reginald and I could use a hot cup of tea. May not get another chance.”
Mr. Stone didn’t wait for a reply as he left to find the galley.
***
“We’re a bit short on space up here,” the private stated, showing Melissa, Heather and Beth to their shared bunkroom. “Sorry it’s so cramped.”
“This’ll be fine, Private…?” Beth said.
“James, ma’am. Private Lucinda James.”
“Thank you, Private James. It’ll do fine.”
“Um, sorry to say that before you get settled, the General has asked to speak to you right away, Ms. Laughlin. And you are wanted in tech, Ms. Walton.”
“How about me?” Melissa asked, shaking one of the BC bunk frames. “Where am I needed?”
“I don’t have orders for you, ma’am,” Private James stated.
“She called me ma’am,” Melissa joked, elbowing Beth, who despite trying to be as serious and professional as possible, couldn’t suppress a seventeen-year-old’s smile.
“The mess is just down the hall if you are hungry,” Private James stated. “I know Chef has a fresh pot of yak stew cooked up.” Melissa grimaced. “Or, and I know you must be tired and it is late, there is holo training area on the third sublevel. I was informed you have been recently activated as a Ghost. Congratulations.”
“Um, thanks,” Melissa said.
“Try the yak stew,” Heather said. “Eat something. I remember it’s pretty good. Or it was thirteen years ago.”
“It’s quite delicious,” the Private agreed. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.”
They left the bunkroom and Melissa to herself. She sat down on one of the bunks, her head in her hands. “Fuck this!” she said aloud. “I’m going to go punch something!”
***
“Fucking ow!” Billy yelled as he tried to yank his arm away from the Tech that had just pierced it with a large bore needle. “You said it wouldn’t hurt!”
“I lied,” the Tech said, not concerned in the least about Billy’s comfort.
“Big baby,” Alex laughed. “Your body can repair itself and you’re still acting like a little kid.”
“I think my senses are a bit more heightened because I was in scab withdrawal when I died,” Billy whined.
Alex rolled his eyes and looked at the Tech, who in turn shook his head. “Right. Just like a junkie to blame it on the scabs.”
“Hey! You can stop acting all high and mighty, Mr. Prince! You’re the reason we’re in this state!” Alex’s mood shifted noticeably and Billy wished right away he could take it back. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I know it was for Vas. He was a great guy.”
“Yep, the best of us all,” Alex agreed, closing his eyes and leaning back into the reclined exam chair.
“OW! You’re doing that on purpose!” Billy yelled at the Tech again as the needle was pulled from his arm.
The door slid open and Heather stepped inside, accompanied by another Tech.
“Welcome to the party, Ms. Walton,” Billy sneered. “There’s plenty of torture to go around.”
Heather ignored Billy and sat in the exam chair offered to her.
“How are you holding up?” Alex asked her.
“As well as can be expected when missing thirteen years of my life, finding out my sister and her husband are dead and I’ve been raising my niece the whole time,” Heather snorted. “Not to mention that I died and was reanimated by some fucking nanotech virus.”
“So, you’re doing well then?” Alex joked, reaching his hand out and taking hers.
Heather smiled and gripped his hand. “Better. I’m hoping these folks can get my memories back.”
“We’ll try,” one of the Techs said, prepping her arm. “This will hurt a bit.”
“That’s not what they told me!” Billy complained. “Assholes!”
***
Seven Techs stood about admiring the BTT, as Styles ran external diagnostics, putting the aircraft through its paces.
“And you control it from a single jack?” one asked.
Styles removed his hat and lowered his head, showing each a full view of his exceptional jack point.
“That’s crazy!” another exclaimed. “Full integration? Muscle response also?”
“Full integration,” Styles smiled, donning his hat once again. “It’s one of a kind.”
“Did Prince Tartarov really customize that for you?” another asked.
Styles just grinned. “You folks ready for the show?”
They all nodded eagerly.
Styles activated the stealth system and the BTT vanished from the hangar.
“Holy crap!”
“What the…?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Styles laughed as the Techs rushed forward and began to feel for the aircraft.
***
“Ms. Laughlin, I’m pleased to meet you in person,” General Millman said, extending his hand. “Dr. Lisbon’s information has proven invaluable over the years, and while I know you are not him, I am glad to be able to express our gratitude.” Beth took the General’s hand and shook it warmly, taking the seat offered to her. “This is Colonel Owens and Colonel Smithfield. They are my commanders of all operations here at Lhasa base.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Beth nodded. “Shall we get down to the debriefing? It’s been a rough few days, and while I did say the neural integration went off without a hitch, I am fighting off a fatigue headache.”
“We understand and we’ll keep the questions to a minimum,” Colonel Smithfield said. “I assume that cerebral integration is still an option for full data recovery?”
“Of course, Colonel,” Beth answered. “In fact, if you have an interface in here I can begin the upload while we talk.”
“Simultaneously?” Colonel Owens asked, astonished.
“Yes,” Beth grinned. “With Dr. Lisbon’s understanding and control of biochrome, Rachel Capreze’s predisposed technopathic consciousness, in conjunction with my cloned physical form from her genetic code, I am capable of doing many things at once.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Colonel Smithfield said. “The interface is to your left.”
The three men watched as Beth placed a palm on the interface control and a holo came to life instantly. She checked systems and set the data transfer into motion. “I’m ready when you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zverev’s undead body battered at the sealed door. The screams from the terrified occupants echoing inside the house further enraged the creature, making it double its effort to gain entrance.
Other screams echoed about the chaotic street as people tried to flee the horror that had befallen the ravaged city of St. Petersburg.
Some tried to fight, but were quickly overcome, their bodies torn apart and feasted upon by the undead attackers.
Blood filled the gutters and guts, limbs and heads littered the ground, long since grown cold and of no interest to the creatures.
Five more of the undead joined Zverev and their combined force ripped the door from its frame. Gunshots erupted from the dark house, but they couldn’t stop the bloodlust that fueled the creatures.
Zverev roared and knocked the rifle from the woman who held it, tossing the useless weapon to the ground. She tried to escape, but he was on her so fast she hadn’t fully turned away when he sank his teeth into the side of her neck and yanked back, nearly ripping her head right off. Blood sprayed the room and the other creatures went wild, lapping at the hot, red liquid. Several tried to get at the corpse, but Zverev fought them off, keeping the flesh for himself.
Once the body cooled, Zverev rose and stalked from the house, ready to find more people, more victims, more flesh.
Within minutes the woman’s body reanimated, its wounds knitting back together, and she stomped up the stairs to the bedrooms above, some echo in the creature’s brain knowing exactly where the rest of the family hid.
***
“So you are saying that this nanotech that is inside Ms. Walton, Mr. Brenton and Prince Tartarov is somehow combined with the virus that creates, for lack of a better word, zombies?” General Millman asked.
“Precisely, General,” Beth replied. “And not just that, but the Three have modified the nanotech further, taking elements of biochrome and fusing it with the archaic metals the UDC used, giving the nanobots the ability to morph and reconfigure the host body at their will. Or, at the virus’s will, basically allowing the infected to heal instantly whether dead or alive.”
“Then they are virtually unstoppable!” Colonel Owens exclaimed. “How do we counter that?”
“Ghosts,” Beth said flatly. “Ghosts can manipulate any and all BC.”
“But they have to come into contact with it,” Colonel Smithfield stated. “That would leave them wide open to infection.”
“True,” General Millman agreed. “Which is why there would need to be teams. Some Ghosts could be on point and incapacitate the zombies while others would wait in the wings to help heal any Ghosts infected.”
“Exactly,” Beth nodded. “Once healed, the Ghost’s nanotech would be frozen into a permanent state, ending any programming control the viral modifications may have had.”
“Could they still retain the instant healing abilities?” Colonel Smithfield asked.
“Possibly. It would depend on the skill of the Ghost tasked to do the healing,” Beth replied. “I would say each outcome may be slightly different, but it could be worked out.”
The two Colonels looked at each other and grinned.
“You two better not be thinking of pre-infecting Ghosts,” the General warned, however his protest was weak since the value of such an action outweighed his misgivings.
“That is possible also,” Beth answered. “An inoculation of sorts.”
“This is a lot to think about, Ms. Laughlin,” the General said, rising and offering his hand. “I suggest you get some sleep. I’ll have our Techs go over the data and see if we can come up with anything else. They’ll also be studying the results from the tests on Ms. Walton, Mr. Brenton and His Highness.”
Beth rose and shook each man’s hand. “Before I go, have you considered how we will handle the nanotech that is running rampant in North America? That won’t respond to Ghost manipulation.”
“It’s something we’ll have to tackle before we get there, but not right now. One crisis at a time,” the General answered.
“Fair enough. Good night, gentlemen.”
***
Beth slowly made her way to her quarters and was surprised when she found Billy fast asleep in one of the bunks. Melissa stirred and sat up on one arm.
“Don’t wake him,” Melissa whispered. “He was a bitch to get to sleep. Wouldn’t shut up about how much it hurt getting poked and prodded.”
Beth grinned. “Where’s Heather?”
“She’s with Al,” Melissa grinned. “Not having memory of their break-up has turned Prince Pain-In-The-Ass into Prince Charming.”
“I don’t know a lot about relationships,” Beth said quietly as she pulled off her boots and removed her pants, slipping into the small, but cozy bunk waiting for her. “But, even I could tell those two weren’t quite done.”
“Tell me about it,” Melissa agreed. “The sexual tension was a bit thick.” Melissa hesitated. “You want to tell me what you meant by being only four years old?”
“Not tonight, Mel,” Beth yawned. “I just don’t have it in me.”
***
“It was nice of Billy to volunteer to switch rooms,” Heather said, her head on Alex’s chest. The sheets were a mess, barely covering their naked bodies as they lay on the small bunk, limbs intertwined.
“He didn’t volunteer,” Alex replied, his hand moving from her hair down to the soft skin of her shoulder, her back, her hip and back up again. “I made a strong suggestion.”
“Well, thank you for that strong suggestion,” Heather said, lifting her head up and kissing his lips, then neck before settling her cheek on his chest once again. “My body needed this.”
“Nothing like good sex to get back in shape after spending most of the day as an undead monster,” Alex laughed.
“Not funny,” Heather said, reaching up and tweaking a nipple.
“Ow,” Alex protested weakly, reaching for Heather’s nipple.
“Don’t even try it,” she warned, slapping his hand away.
They lay quiet for a long moment and Alex thought Heat
her had drifted to sleep when she asked, “Did we really break up?”
“Yes. And it was not pretty.”
“I could just imagine.” She sighed, settling her body closer into his. “My fault or yours?”
“What do you think?”
“Mutual?”
“Of course. God forbid one of us let the other get the upper hand!”
“But we never actually got divorced?”
“Nope. And neither of us pushed the issue. We just quit and walked away. I think we were both in shock after what happened to Mel’s folks.”
“Guess we knew we couldn’t really let each other go.”
“I know I couldn’t,” Alex sighed. “And I’m glad I didn’t…Princess.”
Heather pushed upright and looked deeply into Alex’s eyes. “That’s right! I’m still officially a Russian princess!”
“That you are, with all the rights and privileges. Such as these fine accommodations.” Alex swept his hand about indicating the bunk room that was barely nine meters square.
“As long as there’s a bed, it’s fine by me,” Heather purred, shifting and straddling Alex’s waste. They held each other’s gaze for a moment then kissed deeply, their bodies pressed as close together as possible, trying to become one.
***
Once regal attire, then blood caked tatters, dragged behind the shuffling, undead Empress as she made her way through the ravaged Winter Palace. Her body hunched as she shambled, her head turning at every noise, the predator seeking more food, more flesh to devour.
She had already mutilated half of her personal staff, most of them rushing to help her, thinking she had been injured, not knowing she was death walking. Those that she didn’t savage into immobility shambled along behind her, as they had before their deaths, their usual sycophantic mumblings replaced by hungry grunts and growls. Somewhere in their rotting brains there must have been the vestiges of their training, as they continued to defer to the zombie Empress when living flesh was found, allowing her to feast to her fill before they pounced on the body, hoping it was still warm and to their taste.
Within hours all that hid were found, all that ran were tracked down, all that lived died and soon after rose, joining the rest of the undead creatures that wandered through the many halls of the palace.