The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  “Alamein.”

  “Alamein. The quiet one. You guys are going to be the first to die. Tell me something, Talbert. Did you really go up against Jeremiah Jones back on Earth?”

  Talbert nodded. “He was amazing.”

  “More amazing than me?”

  “You’re a kid trapped in a man’s body. More unpredictable. So maybe that makes you more dangerous. But he was something. I never saw anybody move like that until you kids.”

  “I like you, Talbert. A lot more than Mouthy Man.”

  “Shut up, kid,” Alamein said.

  “Hey, I’m just talking. Passing the time. You don’t have to listen.”

  “Jack was a good guy. He mentored me when I first entered the Elite Ops. And he was more man than you’ll ever be.”

  “He was an asshole,” Talbert said. “Thought he was better than us. Shot his mouth off way too much.”

  “A mouthy man,” Curtik said with a laugh. “It was a fair fight. What’s everyone’s problem?”

  “The problem,” Alamein said, “is that you’re a psychopath.”

  “Hey,” Curtik said, “I’m just the way they made me. Come on, Talbert. You know they’re gonna let me outta here eventually. They need me. I’m the best they’ve got. Why don’t you just let me out now?”

  “You just threatened to kill us two minutes ago,” Alamein said. “Do you know how crazy you sound?”

  “I wasn’t talkin’ to you, Alamein. I was talkin’ to my man Talbert.”

  “Sorry, Curtik,” Talbert said. “Gotta follow orders.”

  Curtik snorted his disgust. Weak humans. They all deserved to die—except maybe Eli.

  The sound of a large group approaching made the Elite Ops turn toward the doorway. Benn’s distinct laughter was immediately recognizable, as was the off-key whistling of Wee Willie—the best tech student among the boys. He was almost as smart as Zora and a hell of a lot more fun.

  “Yo,” Benn shouted as they entered the greenhouse, a crowd of boys wearing black shimmer cloth coveralls, “we’re here to see our man Curtik.”

  “You’re not authorized to be here,” Alamein said, using an amplified voice.

  “Ah, they’re just kids,” Talbert said. “Five minutes, guys. Okay?”

  The crowd surrounded the two Elite Ops troopers. Curtik’s boys—all eighteen of them, looking innocent—unarmed.

  “Curtik,” Addam said, “how you doin’?”

  Curtik said, “I don’t know why the hell I’m even here.”

  “Leave the area now,” Alamein ordered. “I’ll send for backup.”

  “Relax,” Benn said as the boys closed in tighter, pressing their bodies against the troopers. “We’re just here for a visit. We’re peaceful. Ain’t we, boys?”

  Seventeen voices spoke in unison: “Peaceful.”

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Alamein said as a noxious odor of sulfur and decaying corpses permeated the area—Elite Ops nerve gas. It was supposed to induce crippling fear, but Curtik knew it wouldn’t work on the cadets. Ha! Choke on that.

  “We don’t want to hurt you either,” Addam said as the boys reached through the shields, grabbing arms and legs, lifting the troopers off the floor, pinioning them against the plas-glass wall of the cell. He and Benn each tore a helmet off a trooper, cutting communications with central command and deactivating their shields. They ripped the Las-rifles out of the troopers’ hands. Wee Willie reset the Las-rifles’ frequencies so they were no longer tied to the troopers’ helmets. He handed one to Addam, who gestured to the boys to let go of Alamein. As they stepped back, Addam pointed his Las-rifle at Alamein. “Open the door.”

  Alamein shook his head. “Listen, boys. It’s not too late to turn back. Troopers are going to be here any second and they’re not going to be playing.”

  “Kill him,” Curtik said. His heart pounded in his chest.

  “What?” Addam said.

  “His friends will be here soon. Kill him.”

  Alamein said, “I won’t open the door and you’re not going to kill me, Addam. This is just youthful exuberance. It’s forgivable, to a point. But you shoot me and you’ll regret it.”

  Addam stepped closer, placing the Las-rifle up against Alamein’s stomach, but still didn’t fire. Benn did it for him. He sent a red laser pulse through Alamein’s armor, drilling a hole in the trooper’s chest the size of a fist. The trooper screamed as he fell. Crazy Vigg snorted. Benn pushed Talbert to the door and said, “Open it or die.”

  “Take it easy,” Talbert said. “No one else needs to get hurt.” He put his palm on the lock and punched in the code, springing the hinge of the door. As it swung open Curtik stepped out, a cold fury upon him. Grabbing Talbert, Curtik snatched his shield generator and pushed him away. “Kill him too,” he said.

  “Why?” Addam said. “We can just lock him up.”

  “Listen, Curtik,” Talbert said, “I did as you asked. I let you out.”

  Curtik snarled at Addam’s stupidity and Talbert’s desperation. The smell of fear was acrid and unpleasant. “Sorry, Talbert. It’s gone too far. You’d only come after us again. Everyone’s gonna be coming after us now. Kill him.”

  Still Addam hesitated.

  “Damn it!” Curtik held out his hand. “Give me your weapon.”

  Talbert edged toward the door. “I’ve got a lot of friends in the Elite Ops.”

  He obviously wanted to make a break for it. Curtik took Addam’s Las-rifle and altered the power setting to high. “Run,” he said to Talbert. “Now.”

  As Talbert pushed past, slide-hopping for the door, Curtik fired a long pulse into the back of Talbert’s head.

  The pit of his stomach grew warm. Benn laughed. Curtik felt like it too but held back. Control. His breath came in gasps. Slowing it down, Curtik said, “We need more weapons. Addam, Wee Willie, you’re with me. Benn, get Alamein’s shield and cover our rear. Crazy Vigg, your tong is in charge here. Try to delay the troopers. Tell them whatever you have to. Play on their sympathies. Blame me. The rest of you scatter.”

  It took a few seconds for Wee Willie to reconfigure the shield he’d taken from Talbert so that it would work without connecting to the helmet. Crazy Vigg altered Alamein’s as well. As they moved out, Curtik spoke to the cadets through his implant: I’ll contact you when we’ve got weapons. The Elite Ops probably won’t attack if you’re unarmed. As soon as we get Las-rifles, we’ll get back to you.

  They moved quickly down the corridor toward the armory, using the slide-hop step that substituted for running in the lower gravity of the Moon. Curtik almost didn’t remember real running. The only time they got to run now was in the motionators or on the training floor, wearing their mock gravity suits. And it didn’t feel right. He longed to return to Earth—after they’d conquered it—so he could run on grass again.

  Using his implant, Curtik tapped into the communications module of the Elite Ops for a second, then disconnected before any troopers could get a fix on his position. Two troopers were guarding the armory.

  “Benn and I go in firing,” he said. “Wee Willie, you take out the lights. Give Addam a three-two-one. Addam, you stay behind us. When the lights go out, we drop and you go over the top. Make a grab for their helmets. Rip ’em off and their shields will go out. Think you can handle that?”

  “You’re giving me the most dangerous job?” Addam said.

  “If you’d shot that guy when I told you to, I’d do it myself. But I don’t trust you with a Las-rifle right now.”

  Addam opened his mouth, hesitated and said, “Fine.”

  Wee Willie said, “There’s the junction box. Up ahead is the intersection of corridors outside the armory. I’ll need about thirty seconds to isolate the lights in that corridor.”

  “No problem,” Curtik said. “Go.”

  He walked to the inters
ecting corridor, Benn at his side, Addam behind him. As soon as he rounded the corner, he realized there was a problem. Zora stood with her tong, Rendela and the pale Aspen, next to the Elite Ops troopers outside the armory. They wore white shimmer cloth coveralls and too much of that annoying perfume he couldn’t place. It wrinkled his nostrils. What the hell were they doing here?

  “Give it up, Curtik,” Zora called out.

  “Get out of my face,” Curtik said, “or you’ll be sorry.”

  The Elite Ops troopers had their weapons up but hadn’t yet fired. Curtik and Benn advanced, Addam trailing. When the troopers released their nerve gas, Curtik knew they were seconds from firing. He said, “Now.”

  He and Benn opened up with red killing pulses as they closed the gap still further. The troopers’ shields glowed orange. They couldn’t fire back while their shields were on. Zora, Rendela and Aspen moved behind the troopers, using the shields for protection. The chemicals in the nerve gas, cooked by the laser pulses, released a bitter smell. Curtik knew he had to get within about five feet for Addam to make the leap. If Addam messed up this time, Curtik would kill him, same tong or not. He heard Wee Willie’s voice in his implant, Three, two, one, now.

  Curtik and Benn dropped as the lights went out.

  Curtik’s implant immediately adjusted for the difference. He saw Addam go flying past him, arms down. The Elite Ops troopers saw him too. They lifted their Las-rifles and fired as he grabbed at their helmets. He screamed. But he managed to pry off one of the troopers’ helmets. Curtik’s Las-rifle blasted a hole in the trooper as Addam fell to the floor, moaning. The trooper dropped.

  The other trooper’s shield remained intact. As Zora bent to the lock on the armory door, Curtik dropped his Las-rifle and dove for the trooper’s helmet while Benn kept up a steady stream of fire. Even as his fingers locked under the helmet, pulling up and away, deactivating the trooper’s shield, Curtik felt a knife press into his stomach. Then agony. He screamed as he fell and laughed at the pain. He’d been stabbed. Not that bad. Hurt like hell.

  Looking up, he saw Benn standing over the two dead Elite Ops troopers. “Man,” Benn said, “I smoked him good.”

  And then Rendela and Aspen tackled him. Why? Obviously working against him under Zora’s orders. She wanted to lead, and she’d managed to unlock the armory door.

  Curtik pulled the knife clear—a plas-glass blade that produced a pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Zora picked up the Las-rifle he’d dropped. He had to even things out somehow. Addam was unconscious. No help there.

  Benn tried to swing his Las-rifle around but Rendela slammed a knee into his crotch and Aspen easily wrenched the Las-rifle from his hands. Benn rolled on the floor moaning as Rendela got to her feet and stepped inside the armory. She returned a few seconds later with another Las-rifle. Now all three bitches were armed.

  “On your feet,” Zora said to Curtik.

  “I can’t,” Curtik said, clutching his stomach and trying to sound helpless. “I’ve been stabbed.”

  The lights came back up as Wee Willie rounded the corner. “There’s more coming,” he yelled.

  “We’ve got everything under control,” Zora called out.

  “Stand down,” an Elite Ops trooper said as he strode into the corridor, his Las-rifle leveled at them. Benn struggled to his feet.

  “The armory is secure,” Zora said.

  “Drop your weapons and put up your hands,” the Elite Ops trooper said.

  “Don’t do it,” Curtik said. “They’ll kill us all.”

  “We stopped them,” Zora said to the trooper.

  “You can’t bluff them, Zora,” Curtik said. “They know we’re all in it together.”

  The trooper fired at Zora. Somehow she anticipated it. She dove into the armory, Rendela and Aspen following her, quick as cats. The trooper fired at Curtik.

  Curtik flinched as the tingle of his shield tickled his wound. The laser pulse scattered on impact and his shield glowed orange. Wee Willie slid the last few feet to the door, reaching it just as the trooper fired another pulse at him. It hit Benn’s shield. As the trooper advanced, Benn reached out and grabbed Curtik, pulling him through the door.

  “Close it,” Curtik said.

  “But Addam,” Benn said.

  “Too late for him. Seal the door.”

  “You bastard,” Zora said. “What have you done?”

  “I’ll get him,” Rendela said. She clipped a shield to her belt, activated it and stepped through the door, her shield instantly glowing orange as a laser pulse hit it. She pulled the unconscious Addam into the armory and Benn slammed the door behind her, locking it.

  “You plowing idiot,” Zora yelled at Curtik. “Are you insane?”

  Curtik laughed. “Trapped in paradise.”

  “I should kill you now.”

  Curtik shook his head as he continued to laugh, diverting attention, hoping Benn and Wee Willie would know what to do. As they edged toward the weapons case, Curtik groaned and began writhing about on the floor. “You okay?” Zora asked. When she reached over to check Curtik’s wound, Rendela and Aspen stepped forward to help. Zora’s eyes widened as she realized Curtik was diverting her attention, but by the time she straightened, Benn and Wee Willie were holding Las-rifles.

  “Stalemate,” Curtik said.

  Rendela and Aspen glanced at each other, turning their weapons on Benn and Wee Willie, who backed up a step and smiled.

  “Too late, girls,” Curtik taunted. “Should have been watching my boys.”

  “Three against two,” Zora said. “You’re wounded and you’ve got no weapon. We’ll just wait for Dr. Poole to arrive, then I’ll straighten everything out.”

  “I can’t let that happen,” Curtik said. “She’ll just lock me up again.”

  “Nothing you can do about it.”

  “Oh yes there is. Have you forgotten you’re not wearing a shield?” Zora took a step toward the shield locker. “Don’t move!” Curtik commanded. “Benn, if she takes one more step, shoot her.”

  “Then I shoot you,” Aspen said to Benn.

  “And Wee Willie,” Curtik said, “you shoot Aspen. We’ll deal with Rendela later.”

  “He’s bluffing,” Aspen said.

  “No, he’s not,” Zora said. “He’s got nothing to lose. All right, Curtik. What do you want? I’m not giving you a Las-rifle.”

  “You’ll have to eventually,” Curtik said, his mind racing ahead to possibilities. “Look, you can be in overall command. I don’t care about that anymore. But we’ve got to move before they get organized. This whole program is going to be shut down.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “They don’t trust us anymore. Not even you. You saw that trooper fire at you. They believe we’re all in this together—”

  “As I said, I’ll straighten everything out with Dr. Poole.”

  Curtik shook his head. “They’re getting cold feet. Dr. Poole’s been acting strange for weeks. Admiral Cho doesn’t come around anymore. When’s the last time you heard from Eli? They’re going to dismantle the program, get rid of us. They already took out Damon.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. They knew he was your best friend among us boys. He supported you. But they wanted to encourage the rivalry between us. So they made Damon sick, gave him some sort of injection. They’re going to do the same to us. Kill us off slowly.”

  “You’re a liar,” Zora said but her eyes began to flicker back and forth as she processed the information.

  “I admit that I’ll do whatever it takes to win. You know that.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” Curtik said. “Look, I didn’t think of any of this until just now but it makes sense. We’re too good at what we do. They’re afraid of us. Tell me,
did they sabotage your last test?”

  “So?” Zora shrugged. “I handled it.”

  Was she beginning to waver? “Do they ever let you see Damon?”

  “He’s devolved. We all saw it.”

  “How do you know Poole or Hack’emup didn’t arrange that?”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  “Am I?” Curtik nodded slowly. “Maybe. But think about this—if I’m right, as soon as you hand over your weapons, they’ll start to get rid of us. Me first, sure. But then you, Rendela, Aspen, Wee Willie, Benn. The smartest ones. The ones they can’t control.”

  “You’re not right.”

  “If I’m wrong,” Curtik said, “you can always surrender to Poole later, explain why you acted the way you did. After you capture or kill all the Elite Ops. She’ll forgive you. Hell, she’ll probably be thrilled at your initiative and ability. Everyone knows you’re her favorite student. So here’s what you gotta ask yourself—can you take the chance that I’m wrong? Because if I’m right, you don’t get a second chance.”

  Zora stood quietly, no doubt weighing the possibilities in her mind. Curtik knew she’d agree to wait. Though he’d just been trying to survive, playing for time, his intuition told him he was right. And that had lent sincerity to his words. Was he right? Was the program about to be dismantled? Could his desperation have provided him with the “sudden insight of battle” that Poole was always rambling on about?

  “He’s just trying to manipulate you,” Aspen said.

  “Obviously,” Zora said.

  “One other thing,” Curtik said to Zora. “Did you know that we can’t have a disloyal thought about Poole or Cho?”

  Zora said, “What are you talking about?”

  “Think about betraying Cho or Poole, or harming them in some way. Just for a second. You’ll feel like puking your guts out. We’ve been conditioned for obedience. Does that sound like they trust us? Like they’re willing to let us operate on our own?”

  Zora paled and Curtik knew she’d just thought of hurting Poole or Cho.

  Wee Willie bent over and threw up.