Push (Beat series Book 2)

by Jared Garrett

  “You’re a murderer.”

  I moved behind a cluster of computer components. I noticed a curving metal rail embedded into the floor.

  “I am a savior,” Holland said. He came at me again. I ducked and ran.

  Machinery crashed to the floor behind me. I couldn’t fight this thing. I zigged to the left, darting between two black columns with wires running up and down them. Something heavy slammed into my back, knocking me to the floor. I threw an elbow and twisted.

  I managed to turn and buck myself free. I looked up. Holland stood over me.

  “What are you?” I spat.

  “I am the height, the apex of our evolution.” Holland kicked my side, lifting me off the ground and sending me several meters toward the big workstation.

  Were his feet made of concrete? My ribs felt like they were poking into my lungs. I had to take small, tight breaths.

  “You’re not human!”

  “I am what humanity can become! I am the avatar of the greatest mind in history!” His foot slammed me again. I saw the kick coming and rolled with it, but it still broke at least one rib. Facing the thing, I lifted the back of my shirt and reached for the pouch in the small of my back.

  “You’re insane!” I scrambled backward, avoiding his next kick.

  He laughed. “No, Granjer, I am not. I have the wisdom of more than a century. This avatar, like those in Anjeltown and Mento, is the host of the greatest mind, the most important person in all of humanity’s destructive existence.”

  My scrabbling fingers finally found the strap of the pouch. I pulled, trying to find the opening. I had to keep him busy.

  “Wait, what?”

  Holland stood straight and cocked his head to the side. “You still don’t understand?”

  “No,” I said. Where was that bugging opening? “What are you?”

  He stood for a moment. “You made it here, so you alone will know. Then you will die. I am an avatar. Cloned from my creator and biomechanically programmed to function independently as needed, but ready always to be inhabited by him.”

  Bug me. It made sense. The New Frisko Prime Administrator’s strange behavior, how it spoke slowly sometimes and then like a normal person at other times.

  “So you’re a puppet?” There!

  The Holland avatar bent close. “No. I am a host for the next stage in humanity’s evolution.”

  I wanted to stand. It felt strange sitting on the floor with this thing looming over me. But sitting was best right now.

  “Actually, you’re a puppet.” I thought fast. “And . . . you want to make everyone else a puppet. You don’t trust us to live our own way.”

  “Why would I? I have seen humanity at its worst, its most destructive.” His foot smashed into my chest. I rolled backwards, and pain spread across my entire body. I gasped. Another kick like that and I was done. “And you want to destroy everything I have created.”

  I pushed myself to a seated position. My right arm felt like it was wrenching from its socket. I finally got the pouch out of my waist band. Time for this thing to burn. Wait.

  “Host? The only one—” My mind froze, then lit up. It all fell into place.

  “You are very slow,” the Holland avatar said. “The only one, yes. I am the essence of Adam Holland. The avatar of the greatest mind in the universe.”

  The avatar? Then what was that behind me? I knew it was a bad idea, but I had to see. Trying to keep the Holland avatar in the corner of my vision, I craned around to see.

  A circular workstation, surrounded by transparent screens and holographic projections, loomed only a few meters away from me. The screens were held up by intermittent columns that extended up from the workstation’s base. All of it was mounted on a platform that straddled the metal rail embedded in the floor. Control panels flickered to life, bright colors winking on and off. In the middle of the workstation was a dark, black chair. It was deep and wide, allowing its occupant to recline yet still see everything happening on the screens around him.

  A wrinkled, shrunken man with wispy, white hair sat crookedly in the chair. His deep-set eyes flicked across monitors and his fingers moved slowly on the armrests, which held their own controls.

  Adam Holland. The real one.

  Chapter 51

  It took maybe two seconds to see the workstation. I turned to the avatar in front of me. A smile curled up from one corner of its mouth.

  “You are a privileged person, Granjer, to see what you have just seen. My original form is old, kept alive through countless cellular transplants. But it weakens.”

  I closed my eyes for a half second. My heart pounded in my battered chest. I focused on the avatar.

  “You have seen the god that saved humanity and you see its creation that is humanity’s future,” the thing said. It snorted an ugly laugh. “And like all mortals, you must pay for your sins.”

  “What are sins?” I pulled my hand free of the pouch, reaching back with my left hand.

  The thing laughed again. “You don’t know because I have made it so.” He lashed out, kicking me in the side and the left arm at the same time. Pain burned all over. I nearly dropped my knife, so I squeezed it tighter.

  Everything in me hurt. If not for the body armor, my chest would be destroyed. I forced myself to one knee.

  “I’ll enjoy this,” the avatar said. An incredibly powerful hand slapped me on the side of the head. The ringing in my ears became a wail; my head felt like it might roll off my neck.

  I got another foot under me and stood, my head swimming.

  “You’re done.” I brought my left arm forward, pointed my knife at him, and jabbed. At the same time, I pressed a button.

  The avatar laughed again. “A knife! You were hiding a knife.”

  I spun, threw the projector at the workstation, and dove at the avatar, screaming. The avatar stumbled backward when I hit him. I shoved the knife toward his stomach. He rolled me off.

  “A knife! You couldn’t stop me if you—” He cut off suddenly, listening.

  I slid the knife into his side as the voice of Adam Holland filled the room. “. . . what insurance is. That would be because I made a world free of the filth and mistakes of humanity.”

  The avatar shouted something unintelligible.

  “Come get it! Hurry!” Strange to hear the wizened man commanding his own puppet.

  I yanked the knife out and tackled the avatar. Just hold on. It stayed up and dragged me with it.

  “. . . or Mento again, I will kill one of them very painfully.”

  The avatar screamed wordlessly. Over its shoulder, I saw the projector cast a pale light against the wizened, shrunken murderer of humanity. It was right at his feet.

  I planted my feet, wrapped an arm around the avatar’s neck, and kicked it in the back of a knee. It stumbled, but kept dragging me. Ten meters.

  “. . . you will stay away from my New Chapter.” The projected image flickered. The workstation slid soundlessly on the rail, curving closer to us.

  “No!” I shouted.

  The avatar kept going. Seven meters. I plunged my dagger into the avatar’s leg, just behind its knee. It fell, but caught itself. It kept going, one leg dragging behind it. Six meters.

  “I leave you to your wanderings . . .”

  The workstation arced closer. The avatar, one leg useless, closed the distance. Four meters. I kicked its knee as hard as I could. It fell backward, but twisted in midair and dove toward its creator.

  The projector’s pale rectangle cast a glow on the weak body of the real Adam Holland. The holographic face smiled.

  “Goodbye.”

  I let the avatar go and threw myself backward.

  A loud clap compressed the air in the room and a bright flash expanded. Pale fire splattered across the seated old man and the avatar, a few flames hitting his workstation as well. Both of the burning figures screamed as the blazing fire sank into their bodies. The avatar reached for its creator, but fell before it could get there
.

  The shrunken old man in the chair shrieked and writhed and dropped, rolling off the workstation as the fire engulfed him. Something fell off his head and skipped away a meter or two. Pale fire lit up Holland’s lair, reflecting off the stark white floor, walls, and shining consoles. The two burning figures went silent at almost the exact same moment.

  Chapter 52

  I stood there watching, wishing I could capture the scene and show it to everyone in Anjeltown and Mento, show the Outcasts, show the Pushers.

  The Pushers. They weren’t safe yet. I forced my stiffening legs to move. Every step threatened to snap them. The need to sit, to lie down, even to just lean on a wall almost got the better of me. Not yet. I looked back at the monitors and panels that made up the workstation.

  “How did you control them?”

  The small burning shape didn’t answer.

  I pulled my shirt collar over my nose and mouth to block the smoke and smell. He had to control his avatars somehow. No, that was wrong. I needed to call the Ranjers off first. They weren’t avatars—he must have given them their orders somehow.

  I fast walked around the room. The mobile workstation looked like it could slide up under each cluster of computers and transparent screens, allowing Holland to monitor his factories, the pod buildings, and the clone room. That was how he knew to send his avatar up when I started messing with the clones. In one spot, I found topographical displays of Edwards Air, Anjeltown and Mento. The last display had mountains and bright orange lines and spots, with small, green dots moving in patterns near the orange. That had to be the Ranjers closing in on the cavern.

  I searched for some way to call the Ranjers. Nothing. Just controls for adjusting view and size.

  “How did you talk to them?”

  That thing that had fallen off his head. I ran, skirting the flames, and found it. It was a headset, of course. I slipped it on, tapping the activator.

  “This is Holland. Ranjers at the fires, respond.”

  The headset fuzzed in my ear. “Squadron two. Search diameter is five hundred meters. Two pods downed by insurgents.”

  Insurgents? Is that us? “Stop now. Pull back.” Did it matter if I couldn’t imitate Holland’s voice? “Put out the fires and pull back.” Squadron two?

  “Sir?”

  “I said pull back and put out the fires. Do it!” I stared at the screen with the orange and green dots.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Come on. The moving green dots’ pattern changed. Instead of closing in on the center of the circle, they moved toward the orange.

  “Yes!” I pumped a fist in the air. “When the fires are out, return to base.”

  “Yes, sir. How should we put out the fires?”

  I had no idea. Water? “Find a way. Throw dirt on them. Whatever, do it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  What were we going to do with the Ranjers? Holland had screwed them up so much—would we be able to fix them?

  We were going to try.

  Now I needed some way to call Melisa and Pol and the others. The Ranjers followed orders, so it was worth trying. What squadron was it? One? Three? Ten? I ignored my worry.

  “Ranjers defending the base, respond.”

  This time it was a woman’s voice. “Squadron one. Located the attackers and closing in. Two minutes to contact.”

  Cold fear jolted through me. Don’t mess this up. “Do not fire on them. Don’t hurt them!”

  “Sir? We have the pod in our sights.”

  “I said don’t shoot them. Things have changed.” I thought fast. “Land and speak to them. Give one of them your communicator.”

  “Sir?”

  “Do it. After I speak to them, bring them to me. Don’t harm them.”

  I leaned on a black pillar. They would obey orders from Holland, right? They didn’t care if their boss suddenly sounded different, did they? Come on, Melisa. Be all right. I explored more as I waited, trying not to think about what might have happened. Beneath all the computer consoles and technology, the room was plain and stark. It had only the one door.

  The fires on the avatar and old man were dying. It was time for me to leave.

  Melisa’s voice came over the headset. “If Nik’s dead, I will find you and I will kill you.”

  “Melisa, it’s me.” I nearly fell from relief. I found a wall and slid down to the floor. “It’s Nik. It’s over.”

  “Nik?” Her voice jabbed painfully into my ear. It was the best thing I’d heard in my whole life. “Bug me, is that really you?”

  I laughed. “Yes. It’s really me. Go with the Ranjers. They won’t hurt you now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  A few seconds of silence passed. “I have to make sure. What was the last thing you did before leaving us?”

  My face got hot. “Uh . . . well.” I cleared my throat. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.” I heard the smile in her voice.

  Don’t be such a dummy. I held my breath. “I kissed you.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  By the time the Ranjer pods landed outside the battered buildings, I’d checked to make sure there wasn’t a hidden avatar room anywhere. I found that Holland’s headset had a long range, so I met the Ranjer pods outside, giving orders the whole time.

  “Stand down from all patrols. All squadrons return to the base. All squadrons acknowledge the new orders.” I figured I should sound as confident and authoritative as possible. I still couldn’t tell exactly what Holland had done to the Ranjers, but it seemed like they respected authority.

  “Squadron four returning.”

  “Squadron three with four, returning from the search for Wanderers.”

  Several other squadrons reported in. How many Ranjers was that? I kept talking. They needed to not attack us anymore.

  “All Ranjers listen closely. No more fighting. No more attacking Wanderers or Outcasts or the insurgents. You have to leave the cities alone too. Return to base and wait for more orders from Nik Granjer. No more fighting.”

  Three Ranjers pods landed on the dirt-covered street outside the buildings. They opened, disgorging Ranjers in their body armor, keepers slung across chests.

  Melisa, Lily, and Pol erupted from one of the pods and came running. Melisa hit me first, nearly knocking me over. I held on, getting lost in her arms and crisp, wild scent.

  “Nik.” She squeezed me tight, her face in my shoulder.

  Something in my chest loosened. I would have fallen if Pol and Lily hadn’t gotten there.

  We stood for a moment.

  “Is it really over?” Melisa asked.

  “The worst is,” I said. “Holland’s dead. The real one.”

  “The real one?” Pol asked. We separated.

  “Yeah. It’s crazy.” I led them into the room with all the captive people Holland had been turning into Ranjers. “I’ll explain. Then let’s get the word out to Anjeltown, Mento, and the Outcasts.” I met Lily’s gaze. “And the Wanderers, of course.”

  Chapter 53

  By the time the four of us made it down the stairs to Holland’s lair, the other three looked like their eyes were going to pop out of their heads.

  “You used a projector bomb?” Pol asked.

  “Yeah. I still can’t believe it worked,” I said.

  “That’s blaze,” Melisa said. She stopped abruptly, catching sight of the hideous shapes on the floor. “And awful.”

  Pol bent close. “Spam, that almost happened to you.”

  “Better them than you,” Lily said.

  “True,” I said. I found my knife and retrieved it. I gestured at the consoles and panels around the room. “We need to figure out how Holland was controlling his avatar-puppet things. I say we get control of them and tell the truth.”

  “Yes,” Melisa said. “Let’s figure this out.”

  “No, wait a second,” Pol said. “Think about it. The people in Anjeltown and Mento will go crazy. We have to find the r
ight way to tell them so a bunch of them don’t panic.”

  Exhaustion threatened to drop me where I stood. He was right, of course.

  “Fine.”

  Melisa reached for me, taking my hand and squeezing. “You’re done. You need rest.” She looked around the room. “Those cities are fine for now, right?”

  We all thought about that. “Yeah, I guess so,” Pol said.

  “You can’t leave them like that,” Lily said. “They deserve to know—”

  “Of course they do,” Melisa said.

  “Right, but they can wait. We can figure out the right way to tell them the truth in the safest way possible,” Pol said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “And get rid of the Holland avatars,” I added.

  “Definitely,” Melisa said. She tugged me toward the stairs. “Let’s go find your parents, then get back to the cavern.”

  “What?” Lily said. “We can’t just leave this!” She flailed her arms all around. “This is a mess.”

  “We’ll bring everyone back here,” I said, the plan coming to me as I spoke it. “We’ll take a lot of pods, bring all the Pushers back here, and save the people in the other cities together.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Pol said. “Nothing’s changed for Anjeltown and Mento. They’re okay for now.” We climbed the stairs as he continued. “Holland’s got this place all set up. We can try to help these people.” He waved toward the unconscious people on the plastic beds.

  We lifted the ones that had fallen in the battle. I tried not to get a good look at the ones who had been caught in the crossfire of my fight with the Ranjers.

  “Although I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”

  “And we need to try to help the Ranjers too,” I said. “Find a way to reverse what he did.”

  “Right,” Pol said. We dragged ourselves out to the street.

  “How was the original Holland even still alive?” Melisa asked.

  I thought about that, and something the avatar had said buzzed in my head.

  Pol bounced as he spoke. “That’s impossible. I mean think about it! He had to be at least thirty or older when he made the Bug. And that was a hundred years ago.”