Synthezoids Endworld 30

by Robbins, David

  A.l.v.i.s had warned them the twelfth floor was well guarded. According to the synthezoid, Thanatos had an army of diverse creatures and mutations at his beck and call, and rotated them on various duties throughout the Needle. In short, A.l.v.i.s couldn’t predict what they would be up against.

  Rikki thought it might be hybrids or more of the bizarre abominations that attacked the SEAL in the fog. But no.

  The corridor was filled with....things. Two rows of them, standing in silent ranks, their heads bowed, their thick arms at their sides. They weren’t much over a meter in height, with stocky builds. Their features were impossible to discern because they were covered, from crown to toe, with long russet hair.

  Rikki only had a moment to take the sight in, and then, as if a switch had been thrown, each of the things raised its head and opened feral green eyes. Wide mouths, barely visible behind the long hair, parted to reveal glistening fangs.

  A.l.v.i.s had made mention of such creatures once. Morlocks, he called them. Spawned in test tubes by his Master. Of low intelligence, they lived for one purpose, namely, to carry out every command of their dark maker.

  Rikki didn’t hesitate. Swinging his katana, he plunged into them. At each stroke he partially severed a neck or opened a throat. Four of the things were dead before the rest could react.

  Giving savage voice to snarls and growls, the Morlocks swarmed forward—-and it was all Rikki could do to stay alive. Sharps nails clawed at his face and jugular. Fangs snapped right and left.

  In a whirlwind of martial expertise, Rikki cleaved wrists, chopped arms and sliced more necks.

  Undeterred, the Morlocks pressed in. The din of their beastly fury rose to a crescendo. Rikki swung and swung but it wasn’t enough. The Morlocks were on the verge of overwhelming him by sheer force of numbers when a war axe flashed to his left and a longsword to his right.

  Crom’s battle cry rose to the ceiling. Eleanor, normally so reserved, let out with a shout of her own.

  Black nails raked at Rikki’s eyes and he separated the fingers from the hand. Another creature leaped high, a shoulder tilted to block the katana so it could close on him with its arms and teeth. Pivoting, Rikki speared the blade into its throat. He wrenched to free his blade but it stuck fast. The weight of the Morlock threw him off-balance. He staggered and nearly fell.

  Taking advantage, other Morlocks closed in.

  “Hit the floor!” Kanto bellowed. “All three of you!”

  Rikki did. To either side, Crom and Eleanor likewise dropped.

  Kanto and Sherlock had planted themselves side by side, Kanto with his autorifle to his shoulder, Sherlock with the BXP leveled. They opened up simultaneously. Lead poured into the Morlocks, mowing down the foremost ranks like wheat being cut by scythes.

  Kanto’s AR70 went empty and he ejected the spent magazine and inserted a fresh one, smoothly as could be. Instants later, Sherlock did the same.

  Rikki brought his Howa to bear. Firing from flat on his back, he stitched hairy attackers scrambling over the bodies of the slain to get at them.

  Eleanor thrusted with Wrathbringer.

  Crom added his .44-Magnum to the killfest, its thunder nearly drowning out everything else.

  The Morlocks died in droves. Their crumpled forms were piled three and four deep when the last was cored in the head and toppled into the heap.

  In the sudden quiet, Rikki’s ears rang. Pushing upright, he slung his Howa and gripped his katana.

  Hairy limbs twitched. Bodies convulsed. A gurgling snarl was smothered by death.

  “Man, that was fun,” Crom said. He was spattered with blood and gore, and swiped a hand at drops on his brow.

  “We were lucky,” Kanto said.

  Rikki agreed. The fight could have gone either way. All it would have taken was for one of them to fall, allowing the Morlocks to pour through the gap to overrun the rest.

  Rikki wiped his dripping katana on the hair of a dead creature. Only then did he realize he had overlooked someone in the frenzy of the melee. “Hope these weren’t friends of yours.”

  Rilletta stood in the elevator, her hands clasped at her waist. She gave the piled Morlocks a look of distaste. “They were ugly suckers. Brutes. Nothing more. Made for only one purpose.”

  “To kill,” Eleanor said.

  “For the fun of it,” Rilletta said bitterly.

  “How’s that again, lady?” Kanto said.

  “When he was.....working.....on me,” Rilletta said slowly, “the Dark Lord told me that a lot of the creatures he makes in his lab, he does it to amuse himself. His very words. He likes.....how did he put it? He likes to have power over life and death.”

  “The sick bastard,” Crom said.

  Rilletta looked down at herself. “I was a woman once. A human woman. And he did this.” She stopped, too choked to continue, and a tear trickled from her real eye.

  “I’m sorry for what he did to you,” Eleanor said.

  “You said that before. Why? You don’t know me.”

  “No human being should have done to them what Thanatos did to you.”

  Rilletta looked at Eleanor and her voice broke. “I can’t hardly feel anything anymore. The parts he fused to me, you can touch them and I won’t feel it. I’m not a person. I’m not even female. I don’t know what I am.....” She started to softly cry.

  Sherlock peered along the shadowy corridor. “As heartless as it will seem for me to say, we should move. Thanatos knows by now that we didn’t do as he wanted. He’ll throw everything he has at us.”

  “A.l.v.i.s told us the journals are in room 1217,” Rikki reminded them. “Let’s head out.” He paused to ask Rilletta, “Where do you stand? Are you going to try and stop us?”

  “You have to ask?” Rilletta said. “I could have attacked you while your backs were to me but I didn’t.” She emerged from the elevator. “I want away from this place. Promise to take me with you and I’ll help you.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?” Crom said.

  “I vote we do,” Eleanor said.

  “It’s not up to you,” Crom said.

  “It’s up to me,” Rikki said. He had a thought. “Rilletta? Can you stop your master from using the elevator? Is there a way to disable it?”

  “There’s an emergency button,” Rilletta said. “It keeps the car from moving. He told me about it when he was giving me his grand tour.” She reentered and stood before the control panel. “This red one.” She pressed it. “That should keep the car here.”

  “We’re in your debt,” Rikki said. “Now let’s go.”He motioned at the others and quickly threaded through the dead Morlocks to where the corridor was clear. The number of the nearest room was 2001. 2017 would be a ways in. He broke into a jog. “Crom, bring up the rear. Anything comes out of those rooms, give a yell.”

  “Shouldn’t we check them?” Eleanor said.

  “No time.”

  Sherlock caught up to Rikki, his deerstalker pulled low, his cane stuck through his belt. “You said to share my observations.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The Dark Lord must know what we’re after. A.l.v.i.s would have told him. If that’s so, the Morlocks were a poor choice to stop us. Thanatos is aware of how well-armed we are. He should have chosen more formidable guards.”

  “Your point?”

  “They were meant to slow us, not stop us. Cannon fodder, if you will. He’s playing with us.”

  Rikki digested that as they drew abreast of an alcove. In it stood a tall statue. Suddenly stopping, he pointed and said, “What in the world is that?”

  Cloaked in a dark brown hood and robe, the statue was at least eight feet tall. Broad at the shoulders, thin below, a hand that was exposed appeared to be made of metal. The hood framed an inhuman face with dull red eyes.

  “That,” Rilletta said, “is Thanatos.”

  “What?” Kanto said, jerking his AR70 up.

  “He calls them his suits, for some reason,” Rilletta said
. “There’s one on every floor. All of them exactly the same.”

  “He puts up statues of himself?” Crom said, and cackled.

  “How very strange,” Sherlock said.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Rikki said, and jogged on. Rilletta fell behind. They passed 2012, then 2013. Around a bend was 2014. A few more doors and he came to 2017. The door was old fashioned wood.

  “Another incongruity,” Sherlock said.

  Rikki tried the knob. He expected it to be locked but it wasn’t. Firming his hold on his katana, he entered. He was certain someone or something would be waiting for them, and he was right.

  A.l.v.i.s.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Crom was having the time of his life. He had slain so many Morlocks, he lost count. It was glorious, pitting his war axe against their claws and teeth. He relished the memory of the battle as recent as it was.

  Now, looking over Rikki-Tikki-Tavi’s shoulder, he was startled to see the Artificial Living Veraform Intelligence System—-a fancy name for the bucket of bolts—-waiting for them. Gliding to the left and keeping his back to a wall lined with cabinets and bookcases, he hefted his war axe and gauged the distance.

  A.l.v.i.s swung toward him. “Please restrain yourself,” it chirped.”I am not here to harm you. Attacking me will accomplish nothing.”

  “Says you,” Crom said. He wasn’t sure his axe could dent the thing’s casing but he could damn well jar its insides with enough solid whacks.

  The others were fanning out except for Sherlock, who boldly approached it. “We should hear what A.l.v.i.s has to say.”

  “Why bother?” Crom said. “You’re the one who said we can’t trust this tin rat.”

  “Really, now,” A.l.v.i.s chirped. “I am not constructed of tin and I am certainly not a rodent.”

  Rikki-Tikki-Tavi joined Sherlock. “What are you doing here, A.l.v.i.s? You deserted us back when we could have used your help.”

  “Only to prove myself to you,” A.l.v.i.s chirped.

  “This should be good,” Crom scoffed. He had never been a big fan of technology. What had high-tech ever given the world except the Apocalypse?

  “Explain,” Rikki said. “And make it quick. Your Master won’t waste time sending more of his abominations after us..”

  “Is that how you regard me?” A.l.v.i.s chirped. “As an abomination?”

  “I’m waiting,” Rikki said.

  The little lights on A.l.v.i.s’s bullet-shaped body blinked and flashed and it uttered a sound that in a human would be a sigh. “It’s quite simple. I became convinced I wasn’t in complete control of my own circuits. I suspected that an outside force or intelligence, if you will, was using me to monitor your progress, and in other ways. For your own safety, I elected to separate and go my own way.”

  “Elaborate, if you would,” Sherlock said.

  Crom glanced at the corridor. He thought he’d heard a sound. Were it up to him, they would grab the journals and get the hell out of there.

  “Your observation, that we were encountering too many threats for random chance to be a factor set me to reflecting,” A.l.v.i.s chirped at Sherlock. “I reasoned that Thanatos might be tracking my GPS chip, and thus always know where we were. Even more disturbing was the possibility that at times he could take me over without my being aware of it, and employ me for his own ends.”

  “You mean he could make you act and say what he wanted?” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi interrupted.

  “That was my concern, yes. So, again, I left you. Perhaps I should have said something.”

  “You should have,” Rikki said.

  Kanto stepped to the doorway and stared back the way they had come. “Should we be standing around talking like this? What if he’s trying to delay us so we’ll be caught?”

  “I’m thinking the same,” Crom said.

  “I agree that haste is of the essence,” A.l.v.i.s chirped. “To that end, come over here, if you would.” The synthezoid floated to a nearby cabinet, extended a pincer, and opened the middle drawer. “Here are the journals that contain the formula for the serum. Secure them, and I can lead you safely out of here.”

  “Safely?” Rikki said.

  “I know the Needle, as you would say, like the back of the hands I don’t have. Hallways that are seldom used. Corridors that don’t have cameras installed.”

  “Do we dare trust him?” Eleanor said to no one in particular.

  “Not me,” Crom said. “Not ever.”

  “You stricken me, young human, with your lack of faith,” A.l.v.i.s said.

  “Give me an excuse,” Crom declared, hefting his war axe, “and I’ll stricken you a lot worse.”

  Rikki stepped to the cabinet and quickly removed half a dozen thick journals which he placed on a small table. He flipped through one and said, “This is beyond me. Sherlock, do these look right to you?”

  Sherlock hurriedly examined one and then another. “The science is beyond me, as well. The math, especially. I’ve studied algebra but not advanced calculus.”

  “Cal-cu-what?” Crom said.

  “These could be the ones,” Sherlock said to Rikki. “We’ll just have to take A.l.v.i.s’s word for it.”

  Rikki frowned. “All right. We have no choice. Find something to put them in and we’re out of here.”

  “Finally,” Crom grumbled. He noticed a tall stand in a corner with a white coat hanging from it, as well as a couple of large leather bags with long straps. “How about one of these?” he said, going over.

  “We’ll use both bags” Rikki said. “Divide the weight.” He took one of them and placed half the journals inside. The rest went in the other. Eleanor offered to carry one but Rikki shook his head and gave the first bag to Kanto and held out the second to Crom.

  Crom slung the strap over his shoulder. The bag wouldn’t impede him much so long as he kept it slightly behind him, on his hip.

  “Now we can head out,” Rikki announced.

  “No,” Sherlock said. “We can’t.”

  * * *

  So much was happening, so fast, Eleanor was scarcely able to catch her mental breath. The fight with the hairy creatures had filled her with fear but she had done as she always did when a crisis reared; she composed her soul and called on the Lord to give her the strength she needed to prevail.

  Now, eager to leave the Needle and put the Valley of Shadow behind them, she didn’t know what to make of Sherlock’s comment. “Excuse me?”

  Sherlock was staring at A.l.v.i.s. “The ingredients for the cure,” he said. “They are chemicals, I presume?”

  “Yes,” A.l.v.i.s said.

  “Do you know what these chemicals are kept?”

  “Yes.“

  “Are they easily obtainable?”

  Was it Eleanor’s imagination or did A.l.v.i.s hesitate?

  “They are not.”

  “What’s all this?” Rikki said.

  “I have been giving it considerable thought,” Sherlock said. “The journals aren’t enough. There’s no guarantee we can replicate the chemicals we need. It occurred to me that Thanatos must have a stockpile of any and all chemicals he uses. Including those for the serum.”

  “Ah,” Rikki said.

  “You can lead us there,” Sherlock said to A.l.v.i.s.

  “I can,” A.l.v.i.s said. “They are in a laboratory on the tenth floor. I warn you, though, that it will be impossible to reach it undetected.”

  “Never imagined it would be easy,” Sherlock said.

  Kanto had been watching out the door, and now he called out, “Here comes that woman or hybrid or whatever she is! She’s in a hurry!” He changed position so he covered the doorway with his autorifle, his finger curled around the trigger.

  Rilletta entering, moving with an awkward gait, the result of her mismatched legs. “The elevator,” she said anxiously. “There must be an override. I heard it start moving.”

  “Thanatos,” Sherlock said.

  “Then we take the stairs,” R
ikki said, and turned to the synthezoid. “Lead the way.”

  Eleanor filed out with the rest. She had a bad feeling about their change in plans. In an out, quick as could be, was the original idea. This delay could cost them dearly. Who knew what they would find themselves up against?

  “If you will permit me,” Rilletta was saying to Rikki, “I will continue helping you. I hate Thanatos. I hate what he has done to me. He claimed I would get used to it, but no one could. I think he likes the idea of me suffering. I think he gets off on sick stuff like that.” She raised the artificial hand Thanatos had grafted to her forearm and flexed her metallic fingers. “All I want is a chance to wrap these around that bastard’s throat.”

  “You’re more than welcome to stay at our side,” Rikki said.

  “I can’t move all that fast, though,”  Rilletta said. “I’m sorry.”

  “No worries,”  Rikki assured her. “A.l.v.i.s, you take point.”

  Eleanor fell in behind Sherlock. Sounds from the direction of the elevator warned of possible pursuers.

  Kanto materialized at her elbow. “Between you and me,” he said quietly, “I don’t like this one bit.”

  “We owe it to Blade and them to try,” Eleanor said.

  “They never should have used that device Thanatos made,” Kanto said. “They were asking for trouble.”

  Eleanor was about to remark that his nitpicking was annoying when they rounded a bend and came to a metal door.

  “The stairs are on the other side,” A.l.v.i.s said.

  Rikki stepped to a long handle and and pulled. When nothing happened, he tried to push the handle up, and then down. “It’s locked,” he said. “We can’t get out this way.”

  “In other words,” Kanto said as the sounds behind them grew louder, “we’re trapped.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Perhaps not,” Sherlock said. It all depended on the thickness of the door. Acutely aware that their pursuers were growing closer, he examined the bottom edge. There was a gap, perhaps an eighth of an inch. Quickly, he reached into one of the many inner pockets on his tweed overcoat—-pockets he had sewn himself—-and produced a glass globe.