"I'll hold them back," my father said, leaving absolutely no space for doubt. "Go. Finish the job you started."

  The two men nodded at one another, before we turned and headed across the courtyard, moving for the entrance-building. We rushed into the lobby and stopped.

  The half dozen Neoromans who'd come inside were dead, their armour cut through, bodies brutalised.

  I took a sharp breath and looked around. Eyes glinted in the shadows of the building. Red eyes. Bionic eyes.

  Reaper eyes.

  43

  The Reapers attacked, closing in suddenly from all sides in a coordinated rush.

  They moved at speed, bionic frames polished and sleek, bladed appendages razor-sharp, already dripping Neoroman blood as they came.

  "Split!" called Kira, as she immediately pounced forward, springing like a cat at the nearest Reaper she could see.

  The others did the same, moving immediately out to meet the onrushing enemies, the lobby suddenly exploding in a clash of bodies and blades.

  I found myself springing forward too, acting on instinct, firing with my gun-gloves at the creature heading my way. He dodged, closing quickly in on me, bionic limbs thrusting out from his shoulders as the energy charges hit the wall behind him, exploding violently. I thrust to the side, my headset warning me of his incoming attack, and fired again, hitting him this time on the left flank. The attack was weak, my blasters having no time to charge, scorching his armour, but little more. His lips curled back, revealing metal fangs. Those were dripping blood too.

  Monster.

  I growled at the thought, and went on the offensive, catching glimpses of my friends around me. They were fighting individually and in pairs, drawing the Reapers apart. I counted eight of the creatures, each fitted with state-of-the-art upgrades and armour, supremely dangerous against all but the most powerful Variants.

  My mind flashed with memories of the fight in the woods outside Neorome, the night Tank died. Were some of those Reapers here with us now? I wondered. I glanced around, searching for the silver Reaper, but couldn't see her. She's down below, I thought. Down below, protecting Brutus...

  My eyes darted toward the elevator, set at the rear of the hall. It was the only way down into the facility, giving direct access to the factory below. I had to get down there, and soon.

  I rushed immediately at my enemy, scanning his movement, my gun-gloves building up to a full, devastating charge. He shifted left, ducking down, bionic frame bending and twisting abnormally as he suddenly sprung off in the other direction.

  It was a motion meant to confuse me, but I was ready, emitting a powerful, shotgun-like discharge from my right palm. The energy blast was less concentrated, splitting into a series of smaller blasts like the pellets of a shotgun shell. Several of them hit, the Reaper unable to avoid them all. He stumbled backwards, losing his agile footing as he hit the floor.

  I pounced immediately, reaching forward with my left hand, firing right at him with a full, concentrated charge. The blue blast connected with his midsection, exploding violently against his armoured frame. The force was enough to separate several of his limbs from his body, leaving a large, molten crater in his metal torso. From such a close range, little could counter a full charge of my blasters. This creature was no different.

  This creature was done.

  I turned, rushing right for the elevator, glancing through the hall as I went. The room was a blur of frantic fighting, the Reapers bearing down on my friends. I scanned them quickly, to see if anyone needed my help. Kira, Ford, Blair, all fine, I thought, seeing them fighting together at one side, the Red Warrior dancing through the hall with her otherworldly grace and skill, as they battled off several Reapers.

  I looked to the others, as Cash fought one off alone, an especially large one with huge, axe and hammer-like appendages. The VLA operative ducked and weaved, trying to get past the creature. His eyes were constricted by concern, staring across the hall at Murtagh and Harkin.

  I looked at them and saw it now. The blood, gushing freely from a wound in Murtagh's side. She held her arm there, holding on tight. Even now, she looked like she was trying to protect Harkin, blocking off Reaper attacks as they backed off toward the front of the hall.

  I immediately shot off from the rear, rushing in their direction to help, but made it only a few paces before another Reaper leaped out from the shadows. My headset spotted him coming from the side, as I turned on him instinctively with my gun-gloves, firing off two powerful charges at his feet. He darted away, though the force of the explosion was enough to blow him off into the air, sending him tumbling across the room and into the nearest wall.

  He hit with a loud crack, breaking the stone, looking dazed as he tried to get back to his feet.

  I turned back to the others, eyes wide, my attention going immediately to Kira.

  "Kira!" I called, shrieking out to her. "Help them, Kira!"

  The Red Warrior's eyes flashed immediately on Harkin and Murtagh, spotting the danger. She ducked back, below a ferocious attack from the Reaper she was sparring with, as my heart tightened, terrified I'd distracted her at the wrong time.

  I got lucky, the Empress bending with an unnatural flexibility at the spine, avoiding the incoming attack, before flipping adroitly over the enemy and speeding across the room.

  I followed, setting off again, rushing after her. Ahead, near the entrance to the hall, Murtagh and Harkin were backing away, trying to get outside. The redhead's already pale complexion was growing increasingly ashen, blood trailing down her side and leg, staining the floor red.

  I looked at the sight in fear, the world seeming to slow as I rushed toward them. Kira got there first, moving like a crimson blur ahead of me. She drew her scimitars, ready to pounce, leaping into the air.

  Too late.

  From behind Harkin, I saw a thick, spear-like bionic limb punch through his body, cutting through the right side of his abdomen. His eyes flared, mouth instinctively opening into a coughing motion, blood staining his lips.

  No...

  Murtagh turned, letting out a shrieking roar, as the Reaper withdrew the spear from Harkin's back, tossing the man forward onto his knees. Blood spurted from the open wound, gushing liberally out onto the floor. Murtagh rushed, blade aloft, launching herself at the Reaper. Her thrust was slow and weak, movement enfeebled by blood loss. The Reaper stepped back, spinning, knocking her down to the floor beside Harkin.

  "No!" I found myself calling, as the Reaper loomed, raising his spindly, spider-like limbs to attack. "No!"

  I lifted my gun-gloves, firing immediately upon him, spraying him with a series of smaller, weaker blasts. His eyes shot up, seeing them coming, forcing him to duck and move away. He looked up, just as Kira arrived, and thrust immediately forward to engage with her instead.

  Suddenly Harkin and Murtagh were exposed again. They tried to get to their feet, but didn't seem able. There was so much blood. So much blood on the floor. Two more Reapers rushed in towards them, eager to finish the job. They raised their bladed limbs, ready to strike. One slash and it would all be over...

  A figure appeared at the door, tall, broad, eyes like steel.

  He raised a hand to the air, closing his fist. Immediately, the leading Reaper stopped in his tracks, his limbs shivering, snapping, breaking, body crushed like a can. My father's fist opened, and the Reaper's mangled metal frame dropped with a clunk to the ground.

  The other Reaper stopped, hesitating, as my father stepped into the light. He swung an arm quickly through the air, sweeping the creature to the side with a powerful telekinetic blast. He hit the wall, hard, and scrambled to his feet, backing off, reassessing.

  My father's eyes moved to me, filled with a controlled rage.

  "Go, Paige," he said. "Open the lift. Go."

  I hesitated, eyes wetting with tears as I looked at Harkin and Murtagh, lying still on the ground, pools of thick red blood staining the floor around them.

  "GO!" my father roared. "NOW!"

  I backed off at the power of his voice, as though he was pushing me with his mind, forcing me to the rear of the hall. I spun on my heels and ran, activating my mimic tech as I did so, bringing up the illusion of Brutus that I'd secretly recorded before.

  I reached the control panel, and quickly searched my memories, recalling the personal access code Brutus had used when operating the elevator the last time I was here. It came quickly, rising like the sun, bright and clear in my mind.

  I drew a sharp breath, steadied myself, looked at the control panel, and spoke.

  "Oliver Vance," I said, using his voice. "94304."

  The control panel glowed softly, as a blue light quickly shone out, scanning my frame and face.

  Please let it work, I thought. Please let it work.

  The light withdrew, the blue turning to green. The elevator doors opened with a hiss.

  It worked.

  I drew a breath, turning to the others, as the battle continued. My father's presence had changed things dramatically, the others fighting now with a greater urgency. I had no idea if Harkin and Murtagh would make it. No idea if they were even alive.

  So much blood. So much blood...

  My father noticed me standing there. "Ford, Kira, go with her!" he called out. "We can handle things here."

  Ford and Kira both turned, and began speeding right toward me. I backed away into the elevator, stepping inside. I glanced around, looking for a control panel.

  "No, wait!" I heard Ford call out.

  My eyes shot up, as the doors suddenly closed, locking me inside.

  My heart thundered in my chest, as I spun again, looking for the controls. There weren't any. This thing was voice activated.

  "Open doors," I said, starting to panic.

  The elevator didn't react.

  "Surface level!"

  Nothing.

  I heard banging on the other side, as the others tried to break through. I reached forward to try to pry the doors open, but felt a sudden shift in motion, as the lift began to fall.

  "Stop!" I called, still using Brutus's voice. "I...I command you to stop!"

  It didn't.

  The lift fell, moving down quickly into the facility. It took only a few moments before it slowed, abruptly, the doors sliding back open with a hiss. I squinted at the bright light, flowing in from the factory beyond, as a figure suddenly loomed before me. He reached forward with a flurry of metal limbs, taking my wrists in his pincers before I could even react.

  I blinked, looking up into the insectoid face of Mantis, the illusion of Brutus shattered as he drew me out of the elevator, and into the factory beyond. The doors shut tight behind me, the lift powering down.

  And from the gallery ahead, came a voice.

  "Hello, child," said Henry Vance. "I was so hoping that you'd come."

  44

  I stared at Henry Vance, dressed in a sharp suit, clean-shaven, calm.

  Triumphant.

  I felt my wrists pulled tight behind me, Mantis holding them both together with a single, pincer-like limb. He pushed me forward as I struggled futilely in his grip. I'd been in his grasp before. I knew there was no getting out.

  "Now come, Paige, settle down," said Henry, laughing lightly at my predicament. "You know there's no escape from here."

  I looked beyond him, down onto the factory floor. It was...different. More open now, much quieter. Large parts of the factory were clear, where before they'd been filled with machines.

  And down there, waiting, I saw Brutus, standing with Artemia. There were several Reapers there, the silver Reaper among them, along with a number of other soldiers. They were loading supplies onto a series of small vehicles. They looked like they were preparing to leave.

  "It was all a trick," I growled, looking down at Brutus, staring up at me with a smug, disdainful smile. I clenched my jaw and turned to Henry. "Why?"

  He smiled, a rather more handsome expression than his uncle's, though more chilling, more unsettling. Above, the sounds of battle were barely audible, muted explosions gently thudding as the Northbank forces continued their assault.

  "I already told you why, Paige," he said. "I said we were to work together on this, didn't I? I told you it was our responsibility."

  I frowned. "But I was working for you," I said, not understanding, my mind blurred by fear for my friends. "I was working on the cure. The machine..."

  "The machine," he said, nodding, in an almost consoling way. "Oh, I should probably explain all that." He looked at me, smile contained. "I think I owe you an apology, Paige. I hate to say it, but I used you."

  I felt a chill running through my body. "I...I don't..."

  "OK, OK," he said briskly, stepping toward me. "I think you've earned a full explanation, Paige. Come this way." He clipped his fingers, stepping off toward his office. "Mantis."

  I glanced to the side and saw Mantis's face flicker with anger at the casually dismissive gesture. He hesitated a moment, before leading me after his master.

  He resents him, I thought. Use it, Paige...

  We moved along the gallery, Brutus and Artemia both watching from below. I found myself ignoring Artemia completely, unable to hate or blame her for any of this. The look on her face, in fact, suggested that she didn't want to be here at all. She never knew her father was from the Walled Island. Her plot was to overthrow Emperor Domitian, and live her life as an Empress. Now, her life was this. Running, hiding, living in the shadows.

  Welcome to my world, Artemia, I thought. It isn't so nice, is it?

  My thoughts for Brutus, however, weren't so lenient. My eyes became pits of rage as I looked at him, standing there, smug in his clever little deceit.

  "You won't get far," I found myself calling down to him, my voice echoing across the near-empty factory. "You should have run while you had a chance, Oliver. You should have kept to the bargain."

  His lips flattened out, eyes the same. He looked like he was going to respond, but thought better of it, calling up to Henry instead.

  "We should leave, now, Henry," he said, my words clearly getting to him. "You do not know what these Neoromans are truly capable of..."

  "Oh, Uncle," said Henry casually, "don't be such an alarmist. The lift is secured and disabled. There's no getting into this facility now."

  "But..."

  "No buts," Henry said, continuing toward his office. "We'll leave in a few minutes, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

  I heard Brutus huffing, as we reached the office and stepped inside, Mantis clinging to my wrists as we went. The door stayed open, as Henry moved over to his desk. He spun, perching himself on the edge, as I was thrust down into a chair before him, my wrists held tight, palms pressed against one another. Using my gun-gloves would be impossible like this.

  I need to loosen Mantis's grip, I thought. Try to get a shot off...

  "Remove that headset, would you, Mantis?" Henry asked, looking at me. "I'd like to look into her eyes when I speak to her."

  A pincer came down, pulling the headset off. Without the AI function, my gun-gloves would be inoperable.

  Damn.

  I glanced to the side, as Mantis held the headset nimbly between his pincers, looking at it curiously as though wondering if he should crush it, just as he did my multifunction pistol, when we'd fought for the first time. He seemed to think better of it for some reason, and merely reached out, extending the limb, placing it neatly on a side-table nearby.

  "Now, where were we?" asked Henry. He thought for a moment. "Ah, of course. I was about to explain how I used you."

  I stared forward, eyes glazing over for a moment. My thoughts were scattered, my mind still torn between my own predicament, and that of my friends above.

  "Paige, I'm going to need your full attention for this."

  I looked back at him, blinking, taking a breath. He nodded sympathetically.

  "It's horrible, isn't it?" he said, glancing up to the ceiling. "All of this." He let out a sigh and shook his head. "I don't like war very much. All this death and destruction. It's an unpleasant business, really."

  "You're an arms manufacturer," I snapped. "You make war happen."

  "Oh no, to the contrary, my purpose is to stop war from happening, and to do so for good." He frowned, sounding disappointed. "I thought you understood that, Paige? It's the very reason why I developed the cure in the first place. So there's no more war between humans and Variants, no more conflict between our species. Once we are all one and the same, we can work together to build a better, brighter world."

  "But you've failed, Henry," I said, speaking loudly, urging the man to see sense. "That's why you're here, right now, trying to escape. It's over, and you know it. Your crusade has come to an end."

  He smiled, that look of triumph once more returning to his face. "You're right," he said, nodding. "My crusade is over. But, I am not running, Paige, I am...retiring. You see my army falling, and think I've failed." He shook his head. "But what you don't see is the truth, the reality of what has gone on behind the curtain." He smiled at me. "Oh, child," he added condescendingly. "I won before this battle even began."

  He stopped, observed me for a moment, seeming to enjoy my stupefied look as I reflected on his words, trying to figure out what he meant.

  It must have something to do with the cure, I thought. That's his goal here, isn't it? That's his grand vision. He must have had a breakthrough, before we even marched on the city. He must have...

  I stopped, staring at him, as he quietly watched me.

  "The virus infecting our camp," I whispered, seeing that look in his eye, the truth beginning to clear. "It's...not designed to kill, is it?"

  He smiled at me. "Go on."

  I thought back, to when I was here before. He'd told me that the virus was originally intended as a cure, a pathogen that could be mass produced and released upon a wide population, altering and suppressing people's Variant genes, making them...normal.

  He'd said that he couldn't make it work, that he was mass producing machines instead. Was all of that a lie? Were the machines just another of his failed projects, something to keep me busy? Was it all just a great illusion, to confuse and confound us, so he could release the virus in our midst.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47