Pandemonium

by Christian Kallias

  But could I end it, by simply going back on my word?

  I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, says Tanya.

  My word is my bond. If I break it, I’m no better than him.

  You are better than him, Cole. You’re not trying to blow up hundreds of thousands of lives to make a point. But you need to make sure you actually stop that from happening, and if that means going back on your word, well, know that you have my permission.

  Permission? I don’t need anyone’s permission, Tanya.

  Wrong choice of words, Cole. My benediction then.

  I don’t need that either, but my code of honor, that I intend to keep alive; I don’t expect you to understand.

  She doesn’t answer, and it’s just as well since Ahmed decides to make the next move.

  He goes for my neck with a high kick, which is a big mistake. I catch his right leg when it’s at shoulder level and crush his knee with a swift and powerful motion from my right hand. I hear his knee snap, and I can see the amount of pain he’s under from the way his face contorts. I swipe his grounded leg, and he falls back on his arms. I’m still holding one of his legs, so I start dragging him in circles until I achieve enough momentum that he’s flying around me. I could release him and he would be thrown overboard, but that wouldn’t help me recover the data chip, and it might, in fact, get lost.

  My instinct tells me I need to get my hands on it, that it matters somehow. I don’t know why or what is on it; I just feel it’s vital to get it.

  Therefore, I adjust Ahmed’s trajectory by elevating it so I can smash his face atop the armor of his own craft. I do that and, to my surprise, he manages to stop most of the impact by protecting his face with his forearms. Yet, I hear bones breaking. In a one-on-one fight, this asshole has no chance of winning.

  “Happy about your choice of a fair fight? How many bones have I broken in your body, Ahmed? I’m looking forward to breaking the rest of them until this fight is over.”

  He gets back up and cracks his neck.

  “I didn’t think you were a gloater, Agent Seeker. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The company has built your confidence over the years, to the point where you think you’re indestructible.”

  “Oh, I’m not indestructible, but I’m very hard to kill.”

  “I’ve noticed that trait of yours during our previous encounters. As for my bones, thanks for asking. Bones heal, and fast, as you know.”

  I am guessing he’s also equipped with a similar regiment of nanites. They must be swimming in his bloodstream right now, and hard at work repairing the damage. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t intend to stop at breaking bones. I want to rip his heart from his chest and show it to him. Have him see it stop beating for himself and regret ever being born.

  Cole, you really need to keep focused. You’re letting your anger drive your every move now, warns Tanya.

  It’s working so far.

  I’m more afraid of when it might stop working. When that happens, you’ll need all your wits.

  Thanks for the warning, Tanya. Now, either shut up or turn yourself off for the remainder of this fight.

  Cole, this isn’t you, please!

  Confirm last order!

  I think I hear a sigh in my mind before a beep echoes, informing me Tanya has deactivated herself. I feel a little sting in my heart as I know I could have handled that with a bit more tact, but I’m not exactly in the mood to justify my every move to my AI right now. I make a mental note to apologize later for being so rude.

  “Can I ask you something, Agent Seeker?” says Ahmed, bringing me back into the moment.

  “If you to.”

  “Why do you do this work? Why do you keep trying to stop me?”

  Is he shitting me right now?

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m allergic to senseless murderers. So, until I draw my last breath, I will fight people like you and make sure I save as many innocents as I can.”

  “Who said anything about innocents? People are just following the rules and accepting to be enslaved by a few so they can serve their plans, accepting to live in dreadful conditions without revolting. Is that your definition of innocent? There should be a law declaring blind obedience a crime, and you know it.”

  I have no idea why he’s attempting to convince me that he’s actually doing the world a favor by detonating a nuke inside a big city like New Geneva, but, then again, I’m not sure trying to understand a mad man’s logic is something I can either grasp or care about.

  I shake my head. “Terrorists the world over used that speech to no avail. You do know that?”

  “You call us terrorists. We call ourselves freedom fighters. There’s a difference.”

  “I guess it’s just a point of view. You use terror to try to be heard, but in the end, all you do is make people fear you. In fact, you’re probably hurting whatever message you’re trying to deliver, giving even more power to the mega corporations who will take a stance against you and require more surveillance to be able to stop your mindless acts. And last I checked I haven’t seen people lining up to join your ranks. Actually, they hope people like me will find and eliminate every one of you.”

  “And there lies the problem, you see. We are only trying to free them from their shackles. As long as humans accept that the ones with all the resources and power dictate how the world must be run, the human spirit will be forever trapped, muted by the propaganda of the mega corporations and their thirst for greed. How can a human being evolve and embrace what it truly is to be human, to be free, to live in the paradise that this world could have been if they blindly accept the unfair rules that are imposed upon them?”

  “I take it you have the solution?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? The world needs to revolt. If the oppressed ninety-nine percent took arm today and shouted with one unified voice that they had enough of this world, do you really think the remaining one percent would stand a chance against them?”

  That is a thought I admit I had from time to time. There is strength in numbers.

  “Just for the sake of argument,” I answer, “and before I send you to meet your maker, let’s say I agree with some of what you’ve said. Do you really think you will rally people to your side by killing them by the millions? When people are afraid, they are more susceptible to trusting their leadership to protect them and therefore accept even more drastic measures, even if those measures robs them of their freedoms. A frightened soul will not act logically. Which makes me wonder why you think scaring the shit out of people will get them to revolt and carry your message across?”

  “Once again, there lies the tragedy, Agent Seeker. When the media, the net, and every other avenue of communication is spied upon, controlled, and manipulated to only show lies, what are we supposed to do? How then do we get our message out there?”

  “Are you seriously asking me? I don’t give a shit how you do it. I only care about stopping you feckers from blowing up people who are trying to go about their day, unaware they might become a pile of ash before the sun sets on the horizon. These are the people I care about, and that’s why I fight the likes of you.”

  “A noble sentiment. Too bad you’re protecting a cancerous world instead of trying to cure it. I don’t know why I expected better from you. I told Vassiliki her hopes in you were misplaced.”

  My blood starts to boil—fast.

  “You don’t utter the name of my dead wife to me ever again, do you hear me?” I say, my teeth grinding with hatred.

  “Who said anything about her being dead? Don’t you realize it by now? Or were you born that stupid? You have an AI in your brain. You’re connected twenty-four seven to the mega corporations central AIs as well. They know everything you think, everything you like, and they can manipulate you any way they want. In this day and age, the line between man and machine is so blurry we can’t see it anymore. How are do you think it would be to implant a false memory of your loved one dying in your arms?”

  That
last sentence provokes the strongest of shivers I ever experienced in my entire existence. Could any of what he’s saying be real? Is there a chance that my sweet Vassiliki is still alive? Working with or directing mad men like Ahmed Al’Hasi?

  That’s where I have to draw the line on this fantasy. My Vasso (diminutive) would never do something like that. Sure she used to speak of lost freedom often, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  “Enough, Ahmed! Let’s finish this up, now. I’ve had it with your poisonous lies!”

  “One day, perhaps, you’ll understand that I am not lying to you. So be it, Agent Seeker, let’s finish this. I have a city to blow up after all.”

  He launches himself at me with a powerful reverse roundhouse kick, or so I think, as it is a feint, and I fall for it, distracted by his last words, still echoing inside my head. Instead, he directs his kick toward my knee, and I lose balance. I can’t get back up in time and get catapulted backward by a swift knee strike to the jaw. Before I hit the ship’s hull with my back, I can taste blood in my mouth.

  I want to take a weapon or use my repulsors and just kill him now. But I know it is wrong trying to win this way. So I get back up and take one long deep breath. I push my emotions to the side. Tanya is right. I need to be clearheaded in moments like these. He has managed to compromise me emotionally, and my rage is making me clumsy.

  She is dead. He’s lying, I keep repeating inside my head.

  I get back up in time to avoid Ahmed’s next combo. He is one hell of a fighter and is probably just as proficient as I am in hand-to-hand combat, unlike what I had thought before. But it matters not. I need to beat him or, at the very least, get a hold of the data chip from his back pocket. Then and there I decide that every one my next moves will be geared toward that goal.

  I catch his last attempt at a jab and grab his wrist, and he immediately swings his other fist at my face. I block it, cradling it in my own hand. Before he can try to get out of my hold, I thrust my forehead as fiercely as I humanly can deep into his face. I break his nose upon impact and repeat the move a second time, hearing more of his facial bones crack. I twist my hand cradling his fist and readjust my grasp to his wrist as well. I headbutt him a third time for good measure.

  I’m about to send him flying. Grab the data chip from his back pocket when I do! I shout mentally to Eleanor.

  I hear the afterburners of her fighter crackle to life and know she is ready. The fleeting moment it takes to send the message has allowed Ahmed to recover slightly from the shock of my attacks, and I see him try to knee me in the gut, but I use my own knee to counter his. Using the momentum of the block, I extend my leg and hit him full force in the face, while still holding both his wrists tightly with my hands. His head flies back, and a satisfying quantity of blood sprays out of his mouth.

  Before he can recover from that blow, I prepare myself for the next move, bringing my leg back down and lowering my body slightly by flexing my legs, securing my footing for added balance. When Ahmed tilts his head toward me, I start half a somersault while still holding his wrists and release them just before extending both my legs upward with all my strength. My feet impact with his jaw, and he is catapulted high into the air. So high, in fact, that I’m not sure if that was just because of my move or if I inadvertently used my super strength. But he goes flying, and I see Eleanor’s ship tilt to its side, so she’s parallel to his back. Her canopy opens as she shoots her grappling gun and rips the data chip from his pants, tearing the pocket along the way.

  “Got it!” she shouts as she closes the canopy, flips her fighter back to the horizontal position, and starts veering away.

  I expect Ahmed to fly down and crash in front of me so I can finish off the bastard but he spins in the air, grabs a blaster from his back, and shoots Eleanor’s ship with a shockwave blast that destabilizes her craft’s systems. The short-range fighter starts spinning out of control, heading toward the nearest skyscraper.

  Feck!

  I don’t hesitate. I turn Tanya back online with a thought.

  “Have the jet bike ready to sweep me off!”

  “Understood,” she answers somewhat coldly.

  I know I can’t blame her for being pissed at me, and I ignore her tone as I run to the edge of Ahmed’s ship before taking the plunge in pursuit of Eleanor’s ship. It is spinning badly toward a one-hundred-and-twenty-story building.

  I activate my repulsors in maximum thruster mode so I can catch up with her.

  “Eleanor!? Please respond!”

  “Cole, I’ve lost control of the ship.”

  “Eject now!”

  I hear an electrical noise over the mental line, and I hear her swear immediately after.

  “The ejection system is fried.”

  “Get out of the ship. I’ll catch you. Trust me.”

  She doesn’t answer and as I close the gap between the two of us I see her emergency canopy charges explode, sending the reinforced glass spinning wildly in the air with a whooshing sound. I know I won’t be able to catch her before the ship collides into the building. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to escape out in the open.

  “Jump, Eleanor, jump now!” I scream.

  She jumps out of her ship and starts tumbling down toward the ground rapidly. I adjust my heading and divert all power to the repulsors. I see her take something from her pocket as I approach her. She flashes it at me at the same time as her ship impacts with the side of the building and explodes.

  I see flames and debris fly in front of my eyes, but I fly through nonetheless.

  I have the chip! Catch it! We can’t afford to lose it! she says to me over our mental link.

  “I’ll catch you if it’s all the same to you, so hold on to it for me,” I answer.

  “We can’t take that chance, and you know it!”

  “She is correct, Cole,” confirms Tanya. “If you can’t catch her, the data will be destroyed.”

  Eleanor throws the data chip like a shuriken toward me, but it’s not her best throw. I have to adjust my trajectory to catch the chip and, while I manage to grasp it with my right hand, I have lost precious distance separating me from Eleanor. I secure the chip under my body armor and decide to spin in the air and use the side of the building as a rebound platform, pushing with my feet upon impact to course correct and augment my current velocity. The glass windows explode upon my pushing away from them as I descend toward Eleanor, now trying to slow her descent the best she can by positioning her body horizontally.

  Good girl.

  The ground approaches at a scary pace, and I really need to get to her in the next handful of seconds, or we’ll both splat like bugs on a windshield.

  “Where’s my damn bike!” I scream at Tanya.

  “Incoming. ETA three seconds.”

  I know that won’t cut it. Plan B. No matter how much I dread it, I’ve run out of options. I activate the grappling gun inside my forearm armor.

  “The chances of success of this maneuver are less than ten percent, Cole,” says Tanya with worry in her voice.

  “Duly noted.”

  I aim at Eleanor’s leg and shoot without hesitation. The grappling arrowhead flies through her thigh and deploys. I immediately reverse my position and use my other hand repulsor to reverse thrust, transferring all the power to it. A second later, my jet bike swoops in and I’m sitting on it.

  I exhale deeply, not realizing I had been holding my breath during the free fall.

  “Great catch, Tanya,” I say as I start bringing the grappling line back toward us.

  I hear Eleanor scream in pain below as she’s arching toward the ground and misses it by only a few seconds as our trajectory takes us back toward the sky.

  “You’re an insane motherfecker!” Eleanor tells me. “But thank you for saving my life, buddy.”

  “I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

  “Don’t push your luck, soldier, you still have to make it up to me. You’ve freaking shot me thro
ugh the leg.”

  “Would you have preferred I let you splat instead?”

  She doesn’t answer immediately, but when she does, there’s evident panic in her voice.

  “Watch out, Cole! Incoming.”

  I was too distracted and relieved that neither of us had died that I didn’t see it coming. Ahmed’s ship passes between my jet bike and Eleanor, cutting her lifeline with one of its wings. Before I can react, he flips his ship around, ramming his other wing onto the front of my bike, sending it into a wild spin.

  Warning lights and alarms blink and blare as I try to restore my trajectory in the midst of the chaos of light and sound. When I recover from the spin and reacquire a visual lock on Eleanor, she is again free falling toward the ground, but a tractor beam coming from Ahmed’s ship hits her, and he flies away with her in tow.

  I hit the brakes, veer sharply right to vector myself back in the right direction and go in pursuit, activating my jet bike’s afterburners.

  Eleanor! Are you alright? I ask mentally.

  When she doesn’t answer, I try again. Please respond.

  “She is unconscious, Cole,” says Tanya.

  “We’ve got to get to her.”

  “I know—but Cole, you’ve used a lot of power.”

  “So?”

  “So there is no way you can finish this mission without recharging of your main power cells.”

  “I figured as much; we’ll have to find a way to do that soon.”

  “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Cole.”

  “What? Spit it out then!”

  “You can’t both go after Eleanor and get the charge before we head to ground zero. It’s going to have to be one or the other I’m afraid.”

  I hear her voice, I understand what she’s telling me, but I refuse to accept her conclusion.

  “We are not letting him take her.”

  “We don’t have a choice, Cole.”

  “Feck that. I have the choice, and I’m going after her.”

  “Cole . . .”