Pandemonium

by Christian Kallias

  I sure hope there isn’t a mole or any outside forces helping scum like Ahmed. The terrorists are wreaking havoc enough as it is, I say.

  Well, technically, every time they do, you stop them, so from their perspective, they aren’t really getting many wins, right?

  Time travel is not something easy on the mind. Humans are not supposed to rewrite their own history. Just thinking about it defies the laws of what it means to be human, to be born, to live a linear life as far as time is concerned, and then, in due time, die.

  From his perspective, every time I stop his nefarious plan, it would feel like one more failure for Ahmed. Having witnessed so many successful attacks before making sure they didn’t happen thanks to my temporal jumps, I never stopped to think that Ahmed I meet on these missions actually never felt the satisfaction of succeeding.

  But then, there were those times when the people in power decided that a specific attacks didn’t yield enough loss of life to warrant a Rewind mission. Smaller targets, where only a few died, were often accepted as collateral damage. To them, it made sense to time jump to course correct history after only the vilest of acts, but it didn’t seem fair to the innocent who perished in what the company considered acceptable losses.

  It’s not that simple. Sometimes Rewind doesn’t sanction a time jump if they deem the loss of life acceptable to the timeline.

  This is bullshit, Cole, and you know it! Nobody should have the power to decide when it’s right to save lives and when it’s not. I’m surprised you actually agreed to serve such interests.

  This stings me, but I have to admit I can’t rebut Eleanor’s argument. It’s not the first time I question that part of the job either. But at the end of the day, missions like the one today, where my actions could save hundreds of thousands of lives, shouldn’t be belittled either.

  It’s not black or white, Eleanor. If we succeed today, we save hundreds of thousands. Doesn’t that count for something?

  I’m not trying to make you feel bad about it, Cole, but surely you must ask yourself about the motives, especially if there have been times that you felt like time jumping to save only a few but the company said otherwise.

  Yeah, we had many such occurrences.

  Which means you’re not really in control.

  Control is an illusion. I wish it weren’t, but in this world, the last place one can really experience freedom is within one’s mind, and, even so, with all the augments, I’m not even sure that is the case anymore.

  Eleanor doesn’t answer.

  I want to further defend my case and my reason to be a part of Rewind, but I know very well I wouldn’t only be trying to convince Eleanor; I would certainly be trying to convince myself as well. I have doubts sometimes; heck, a lot more often than sometimes. But I believe that at its core, even if I am just a pawn, my actions are serving a higher purpose.

  That’s when Tanya’s holo-image appears in my mind. Before she can speak, static distorts her image, and her face is replaced with Vassiliki’s.

  What the hell is this? This is not the time to have yet another bug-ridden hallucination.

  “Cole, you need to ask yourself these questions. There is a reason why you feel you are doing good. Pretending to have pure intentions is the only way a corrupt organization can trick someone like you to do their bidding. Don’t trust everything you think you know. Keep asking yourself questions, a lot of questions. Your life and the ones of everyone on planet Earth depend on that. Don’t ever just be their pawn. I beg you, my love . . .”

  The message makes me shiver to the core. Is it because these glitches, if that’s what they are, happen with Vassiliki’s face and voice, or is it something else? Could this be part of Ahmed’s arsenal of cyber terrorism to make me doubt myself and to weaken my resolve? No matter what they are, they give me the creeps; plain and simple.

  Tanya, I think you’ve got a virus. Please run another set of self-diagnostics.

  Why? What happened? she answers.

  You didn’t hear that last holo-message?

  What message? I guess I should run self—but then she stops. Hang on, there’s movement outside. I don’t think now is a good time to do this.

  Agreed, we’ll have to check your code later. Give me a full tactical data overlay. Eleanor, get ready, something’s happening.

  Roger that, Cole. Eleanor confirms.

  My HUD overlays with all the info Tanya sends on my enhanced vision. Infrared confirms two men are approaching the entrance of the abandoned factory. I get some weird static on the wireless signal scans.

  “Tanya? What is this? Why do I get all that wireless static?”

  “Unknown, but if I had to theorize, I’d say it looks like signal-scrambling.”

  It’s unfortunate for the sensor date, but it might mean Ahmed is coming himself. It would make sense for him to scramble signals in the area, in order to keep his presence unknown to the city’s central AI and security watchdogs. That’s what I would have done in his place.

  I take a position not too far from Rasul, still in full invisible mode until I find a decent cover and drop the augment as its power consumption is substantial, and I need to conserve power. I check my internal power source; it’s at seventy-three percent. The moment I drop my cloak, another one of my augment starts siphoning power wirelessly from nearby electrical sources. It’s a slow trickle type of charge, but every bit helps.

  The two men stop abruptly after entering the building—right after I dropped my cloak. Have I been detected? I swear in my head, activate image enhancement, and zoom toward the men. It takes a few seconds to process the pixilated image from this distance but, before the sharpening filters finish their jobs, I recognize Ahmed. He has a burn on the right side of his face, no doubt a result from the explosion at Samir’s place.

  I start to worry that I might have been discovered and cut any wireless connections from my augments. Soon, the two men resume walking toward Rasul, who has been pacing impatiently only a few meters away from me, playing nervously with a data chip in his hands. No doubt the piece of tech Ahmed came himself to reclaim.

  Ahmed is here. He’s the left Tango. Get ready to snipe the sucker. He doesn’t leave this place alive if we can help it, understood? I ask Eleanor.

  Eleanor clicks her comm mentally twice to acknowledge.

  Whatever Rasul has in his hand, Ahmed must not get his hands on it, no matter what, I add.

  You call it, Cole, said Eleanor.

  I wait until both men are closer to Rasul to activate my cloak and start moving toward Rasul, making sure I make absolutely no noise. The lights of a high-speed vehicle passing outside blind me for half a second, and when I regain my sight, I see Ahmed twitching.

  Now! I say mentally.

  Eleanor doesn’t hesitate and takes the shot. The moment I hear the gunfire, I run with my super speed to grab the data chip from Rasul’s hand. Everything goes to hell quickly. Eleanor’s shot is a bull’s-eye, but it’s absorbed by Ahmed’s personal shield. The second man accompanying him raises his hand, a robotic one, and launches a rocket toward Eleanor’s position, who’s now unleashing a flurry of shots around both men. Many are direct hits but are stopped by the men’s personal shields.

  I am only a meter away from Rasul when Ahmed throws a powerful shockwave toward us, knocking and throwing both Rasul and me into the air. He screams from the bottom of his lungs, and I see him release the data chip. It’s spinning in the air, but I am too far to grasp it.

  I backflip in the air and land on flexed knees. I push forward with all my might and catapult forward toward the chip, spinning in the air. For a fraction of a second I know I’ll have it and can then take care of Ahmed next. But, as I begin to close my fist around the device, a small tractor beam snatches it away. Ahmed catches the chip and smiles at me.

  Can he see me in stealth mode? That makes no sense. But he could very well have tech that allows him to detect my electromagnetic signal even if he can’t see me. He raises a blaster
, but instead of shooting toward me, he lodges a perfectly centered eyeshot at Rasul who is just getting back up. He falls to his knees, an expression of shock ablaze on his face, and collapses to his death with a mild thud.

  “So long, Agent Seeker, I have what I came for,” says Ahmed as he turns his back on me and starts running the way he’d come.

  “Not so fast, you son of a bitch!” I shout, dropping my stealth augment and redistributing power to my super speed. Before I can travel half the distance separating us, a metallic arm smashes across my sternum, taking the wind out of me. I get catapulted backward, and my back crashes into the concrete floor of the building, a thick cloud of dust rising around me.

  “Ouch,” says Tanya.

  I want to reply and ask why she didn’t warn me about the man who took a swing at me, but now is not the time to argue with my AI.

  “Eleanor, please respond?”

  “Go ahead, Cole. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring Ahmed down.”

  “That’s okay. You did what you could, but you need to pursue him with the fighter. I’ve been delayed. I will take care of his goon and rejoin you, hopefully in under sixty seconds, but we can’t afford to lose Ahmed. Take Drone Two with you.”

  “I’m on it. See you soon.”

  With that, I hear the engine of the short-range fighter hum to life. With Eleanor on Ahmed’s tail, I can take a few seconds to deal with the asshole who knocked me down. I move my hands over the back of my shoulders and flip back to the upward position. By the time I’m up, Ahmed’s goon is already upon me, swinging his metallic fist toward my face.

  I tilt my head and grab his arm then pull it toward me, something he’s not prepared for. I land my knee in his stomach as I feel Tanya readjust my super strength and speed on the fly to deliver maximum impact. I hear the satisfying crack of breaking bones, as the man spits blood.

  Next, I spin his arm around his back and hear yet another set of bones crack, accompanied by an agonizing scream. He clearly fights through the pain as he manages to unlock his metal arm from his body. In a split second, I am holding a detached arm as he spins on himself, something I wasn’t prepared for, and his other elbow jabs into my jaw and sends me spinning on the side before slamming to the ground. I drop the goon’s metallic appendage.

  Son of a bitch!

  I get back up in time to see him aiming a blaster at me and pulling the trigger. I roll to the side multiple times, avoiding his shots only by a hair until I manage to get behind a crate for cover.

  I don’t have time for this shit.

  I activate my repulsor weapons, my nanites pushing through the layer of thin skin on the palms of my hands, accompanied by the usual burning sensation. I charge a super-powered shot on my right arm while using my super strength augment to take a vertical leap into the air. But I am still facing away from my target, so I use my other repulsor to spin quickly around. I lock my shot with my mental HUD to the dead center of the man’s head. He is already aiming upward, trying to shoot me in the air.

  However, I am faster. The super-charged shot packs quite the recoil, but I hold as steady as I possibly can. It takes my target’s head clean off. I spin off and land with one knee and one hand touching the ground, my gaze locked on my target. He is still standing, even with his missing head. A geyser of blood is shooting up to the rhythm of his last heartbeats.

  I rise to my feet and get a glimpse of the dead goon’s metallic arm I dropped earlier. I don’t know if it is the adrenaline or just one of those days.

  “Cole,” says Tanya.

  I decide not to answer and kick the arm toward the still-standing headless man.

  “I think this belongs to you,” I crack out loud as the arm reunites with its owner, knocking him back where he crashes against the ground to the sound of a loud metallic clang.

  “You do realize he was dead the second you shot his head off a few moments ago?”

  “Tanya, if you have a point to make, I suggest you make it.”

  “No point. Just that you seem quite on edge today.”

  “You can say that again.”

  I call my jet bike remotely and order it to fly itself through the entrance of the building as I am running toward the exit. I also decide to bring up the camera of Drone Two inside my HUD and see how’s Eleanor doing in her pursuit of Ahmed. He has boarded a transport of his own, one with automated turrets, which relentlessly fire upon her fighter. It’s forcing her to constantly go evasive and not giving her many opportunities to take shots of her own. Drone Two is having better luck with its automatic firing pattern.

  “Maybe you should take control of Drone Two for her. We can’t let Ahmed leave with the chip,” I tell Tanya.

  “Sure thing, but I will have to divert from helping you here.”

  “I’m done here. Just help her.”

  “Understood, Cole.”

  I am only meters away from the exit when both large windows on each side of the main entrance explode, and two men on jet bikes fly in, guns blazing.

  “Or not,” I say to myself.

  Six

  Mission completion time: T minus 202 minutes

  I manage to dodge most of the incoming fire from the couple of impromptu jet bikes that blast their way inside the abandoned factory. But one shot still hits me in the shoulder. Fortunately, my armor takes the brunt of the hit. The jet bikes have finished their first pass, and I have to act fast before they maneuver back for a second attack run.

  I swing about, take one of my smart blasters, and activate rocket round mode. Both jet bikes are doing a reverse maneuver and cross paths in an X shape. That’s when I lock onto the one that’s slightly ahead of the other just about to finish its reverse maneuver.

  “That’s not the most efficient way of dealing with this situation,” says Tanya.

  “Just make sure to deal with Ahmed, and let me deal with this, will ya?”

  “Snappy,” she replies.

  I run at super speed toward the jet bike I’ve locked onto. I hear the mental acquisition alarm of a missile locking onto me ring inside my head, but I fire at the jet bike before it can acquire the lock. The explosive rocket round impacts with its shield, which lights up bright orange for a brief instant before dying out.

  By now I’m jumping in the air, right in its trajectory. I only have a second before its shields turn back on. I land with my left foot on the bike’s windshield and use my right one to kick the pilot off of his bike. He flies backward in the air, and I jump toward him.

  While in the air, I use my neuronal hacking programs to take control of the pilotless bike, and I send it flying toward the second one just in time before it can open fire on me. The first bike explodes and takes out the other bike’s shielding, sending it spinning on its axis while hurtling toward me at high speed.

  I have to act fast. I catch the ejected pilot and grab him by the neck, snapping it with a swift and deadly motion. Without losing a beat I, grab his lifeless shoulders and bury my feet into his back so I can catapult myself away from him. I activate my repulsors in thruster mode to get higher and make sure the incoming, still spinning, bike won’t hit me.

  I grab my nano-blade and activate it. That’s a risky move with the bike gyrating, but I know I can make the move. To make sure I’ll have a place to land, I mentally call upon my own jet bike toward my position.

  “You’re insane,” says Tanya.

  “Déjà vu,” I answer as I spin myself into position and swing my nano-blade at the exact moment the jet bike flies under me. My blade cuts through the pilot like he was made of paper, taking one of his shoulders and his entire neck and head with it. My blade encounters a slight resistance when it cuts through some of the bike’s armor at the end of my swing.

  I must have hit a vital system because the next thing I know, the bike explodes and I am thrust backward with extreme force. My current trajectory sends me directly into a large pile of barrels that have symbols of explosives on them.

  Not good. But right before
I crash into the explosive barrels, my jet bike flies in position and swoops me into the air.

  “You’re welcome,” says Tanya.

  “You were keeping an eye on me.”

  “I always am.”

  “Thank you.”

  I let out a big sigh and take manual control of the bike. Half a second later, I am riding through one of the broken windows, which my enemies busted through earlier. And not too soon either, as the factory explodes shortly after. Since it contained explosive materials and the jet bikes where leaking fuel and flames, I’m not surprised.

  I gain altitude, check my radar to see how far Eleanor and Drone Two are. I vector toward their position, activating my bike’s afterburners. I need to get there fast. Flurries of red laser shots graze my position, and I have to go evasive. I end up in the middle of city traffic, except I am going the wrong way. Flying cars shoot past me at incredible speeds, rocking my bike as they do, and some explode from the unceasing blaster fire that’s meant to bring me down. Another target acquires me from behind and starts firing at my bike.

  Flying in reverse traffic is like threading the tiniest of needles, but I don’t have a choice at the moment. Unless I activate bullet-time, something I can’t afford to do if I want to have it ready when I face Ahmed. I’ll have to rely solely on my reflexes and whatever support Tanya can give me.

  I got you covered, she says.

  Of course she does.

  The fighter on my tail is heavily armored; I activate my turret, and it scores one hit after another, but it doesn’t manage to make much of a dent on its heavy shields.

  Feck! I don’t have time for this!

  I use my brain augment to scan the incoming vehicles for a convertible and, sure enough, the latest model, and quite nice, Mercedes SJ-75 is approaching right in my path. I raise my jet bike atop the flow of incoming cars and set it on autopilot as I jump off. Three laser blasts scream past too close for comfort as I start free falling back toward the oncoming traffic, my eyes locked onto the approaching Mercedes. I hack its operating system and simulate an in-flight collision. This forces the car to eject its pilot but not before enveloping him in a protective foam capsule a moment before deploying a chute.