Influx (38 page)

“We all have choices, Graham. Some of us just make lousy ones.”

Grady looked up at Cotton. “All right, Cotton. Call some help in here. Get in touch with the authorities, and let’s bring this all to an end. I need to find out where Hibernity is, and I need to rescue my friends.”

Hedrick nodded. “You win, Cotton. We are your prisoners.”

Morrison snapped an angry look at Hedrick. “Are you insane?”

“Mr. Morrison, you may not have noticed, but we’ve lost.”

“Maybe you’ve surrendered, but I’m not going so easily.”

Hedrick held up one free palm. “I believe I have had enough.” He looked at Grady. “Let your sorry excuse for a government figure all this out. Believe me, they will be back before long, asking for assistance.”

Grady stared at Hedrick while Alexa covered Morrison with her positron pistol. “Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, you’re going to face a human rights tribunal for Hibernity.”

Hedrick laughed in spite of himself. “Yes, I’m certain. Let’s just get on with it.”

Grady looked back up at Cotton on the screen. “C’mon, Cotton, bring the cavalry in here.”

Cotton grimaced.
“Yeah, Jon, about that . . .”

Grady and Alexa exchanged concerned looks.

“Stop joking around. Get the military in here. Call the feds.”

“Ah, see here’s the thing: Hedrick’s right, Jon.”

Even Hedrick looked up in surprise at that. “Come again?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Cotton?” Grady stormed toward the screen. “Get the authorities!”

“You see, you can’t just put the whole BTC in jail. Morrison, Hedrick—all these guys have advanced technologies that only BTC staff know well. Remember what happened to Wernher von Braun after World War Two? The Allies grabbed him, and he was put to work on the Apollo program.”

Hedrick nodded. “Von Braun was a good man.”

“See, Jon? Hedrick and all these guys will get off. The government will make a deal with them. They’ll want that head start. You watch, this whole place will be back in business within months.”

Alexa stood by Grady and shouted at the screen. “What the hell are you saying, Cotton?”

On-screen he winced and held up his hands.
“I’m saying, you really need to tear the problem out by the roots.”

Grady called up to him, “Stick to the plan, Cotton!”

“That’s just it; this really always was the plan. My plan at least. Nothing personal . . .”

“Cotton!”

Hedrick and Morrison glowered at the screen, exchanging worried glances. Morrison finally held up his hands. “Okay, Cotton! I give up! You win. Just bring in the military.”

Hedrick nodded. “Yes, we surrender.”

“Right, but as you’ve often said, Hedrick: It’s for the greater good.”

On-screen Cotton tapped a virtual button.

Suddenly the entire BTC headquarters lurched—and everyone and everything in it went into free fall.

G
rady twisted around, struggling to
right himself as he fell—then hit hard against the ceiling of Hedrick’s office. Curio cases, furniture, and other bodies landed around him, but they didn’t smash to pieces in the way he’d expect. The building seemed to be half a second behind them in falling, as soul-wrenching cracks and groans tore through the air—a sound like city-size icebergs colliding. But now the building, too, had begun to fall before the room’s contents impacted on the forty-foot-high ceiling.

With the wind knocked out of him, Grady struggled for breath as he attempted to stand—which he found easy since he was in free fall. He staggered around in a daze amid floating furniture and objets d’art, his feet barely touching the ceiling, which now could just as easily have been a wall.

He looked up to see a static view of Paris out the window, looking down the Champs-Élysées. It corresponded not at all with the free fall he was in, and his brain rebelled—and he began to feel nauseated.

The sound of mountains colliding rumbled through the walls. The room lurched again, and a sharp crack ripped the air, setting his ears to ringing. His body suddenly forgot to vomit as he twisted around and saw Morrison and Alexa struggling with each other in free fall. Her gun floated yards away. Grady guessed it had fallen from her hand when she hit the ceiling.

“Alexa!”

She didn’t answer. She was busy trying to find some leverage to use her superior strength against Morrison as they grappled in midair. She finally pushed off a floating sofa and slugged Morrison twice in the face.

But Morrison refused to let go.

Grady had strayed from the ceiling somewhat, and he tried to swim through the air to get back to it—to use it as a launching pad. “I’m coming!”

She shouted back at him. “Hedrick! Get Hedrick!”

Grady scanned the cavernous office with his eyes. It was difficult to remember which way had originally been up—he was lost as he looked across a debris field of floating furniture, art, and other objects, broken and whole. But then he saw Hedrick’s massive desk, upside down, and Hedrick pulling himself hand over hand along the walls to get to a side door. The man was forty feet away.

“Hedrick!”

Hedrick didn’t look back. He just kept moving as a set of double doors opened automatically to admit him to a gallery beyond. Grady thought he remembered it—and then it occurred to him that Hedrick was heading toward his museum of “contained” technology.

“Goddamnit . . .” Grady clawed at the floor or wall or whatever was next to him and pushed against floating objects to use their inertia to impart forward movement on him. He wracked his mind to calculate the best way to make progress.

And there in his sight line Grady saw his gravis wrapped around the scout helmet and floating amid the other debris. It must have landed near him since he’d had it in his hands when he fell.

Grady grabbed them both and started buckling the gravis on. As he did so, he passed below Morrison and Alexa. He could see Morrison had somehow gotten hold of a Victorian desk clock, and he was trying to bludgeon her with it.

He shouted toward her. “I found my gravis! I’m coming—”

“I already have one! Get Hedrick!”

Grady powered it up and pulled his helmet on. He glanced back at the doors where Hedrick had already disappeared. He then looked back up at Alexa and made his decision—changing his direction of descent toward her and Morrison.

But he went nowhere. He was still in free fall.

She glared down at him from thirty feet above as she peeled Morrison’s fingers from her throat. “You’re in a more powerful mirror! That’s how Morrison stopped us before! Your gravis is useless inside it!” She slugged Morrison again.

He shouted, “I don’t understand!”

“You invented the damn thing, you tell me! Just go after Hedrick! There are places he can escape to! Don’t let him get away!” She grunted and did a backward somersault, wrapping her legs around Morrison’s head and squeezing until his face reddened.

Morrison struggled mightily. “Aghh, you bitch!”

“Are you going to be all right?”

“Go, Jon!”

Reluctantly, Grady continued pulling his way through the free-falling debris field and out the gallery doors. He couldn’t help but wonder at the interaction of the gravity fields—was it a matter of power? Was it like acoustics? Did they subtract each other? No . . . because equal fields didn’t seem to.

He snapped out of pondering gravity and looked ahead. He could now see the long exhibit gallery—only everything was turned upside down, with exhibits floating in midair. He shaded his eyes against the blinding white light of the first fusion reactor, suspended in its sealed case.

Up ahead he could see Hedrick clawing his way along the carpet.

“Hedrick!”

There was another huge rumble, followed by a colossal CRACK. A seam appeared in the wall nearby and quickly expanded, wood splitting. Suddenly the howl of wind started blowing through the corridor—although Grady was still surrounded by interior walls.

He was nearly blown back out the gallery doors into the office again, but as he looked up, he could see that Hedrick had fallen back along the exhibit gallery as well. Grady finally got a good look at the man.

Hedrick looked worried but also determined. In a moment the director fished through his pockets and came up with a small object, which he aimed back at Grady.

“Shit . . .” Grady pushed off from the wall and sailed across the corridor just as an explosion blasted apart the burled wood paneling and sent him rolling end over end. He landed hard against something.

He got his bearings, feeling the carpeting with his hands, and looked up through what was suddenly a great deal more debris, smoke, and now fire to see Hedrick upside down thirty feet ahead, struggling with some sort of large piece of equipment.

“Hedrick!”

Hedrick aimed again, losing control of his rotation as he looked up. The shot went wide. Grady ducked down as another blast tore apart several display cases. Thousands more pieces of flaming debris entered the air around him, burning him as he batted them away. The flames were fanned by the howling wind.

And then another sharp CRACK, like the earth itself coming apart, filled the air so loudly it momentarily drowned out the howling of the wind. The building groaned deafeningly.

 • • • 

Richard Cotton stared through a series of remote holographic exterior images of BTC headquarters. Beta-Tau had gotten him access to the surveillance dust littering surrounding buildings, and now before him was a three-dimensional hologram of downtown Detroit—with the jaw-dropping sight of BTC headquarters and a hundred meters of land in every direction around it tearing up out of the ground. Ten- and five-story buildings around BTC headquarters disintegrated as they fell upward—with the U.S. district court imploding on itself as concrete and soil from the ground beneath rushed through it.

But BTC headquarters did not come apart. The forty-story black slab kept rising out of the ground, getting broader and more massive as the ground around it erupted—tearing up sidewalks and asphalt as floors and floors of dark nanorod curtain wall rose from the earth.

The entire region rumbled.

Cotton said to himself, “We’re recording this, right?”

 • • • 

Miles away people stepped out of their homes and onto their balconies and driveways to stare in horror and shock as a towering monolith rose from the Detroit skyline in the predawn. They swayed from the tremors as they raised smartphones and started filming the dark spike that was still growing above them. Taller than any building they’d ever seen, it kept rising—a hundred stories, a hundred and twenty, and still it rose, surrounded by a crown of debris that glittered as the dawn sun caught the shards of glass. Winds thousands of feet in the air blew the smoke and debris away from the dark tower like storm clouds on a mountain peak, and yet still the massive tower rose.

People throughout the city stopped and stared, dumbfounded. Disbelieving their eyes.

 • • • 

Alexa clawed her way across heavy debris, sending it rotating as she pushed off it, striving toward the positron pistol that twirled in the wind, bouncing it off walls.

Morrison was close behind her, his face bloody, but his eyes filled with rage. “You freak! You might be faster and stronger, but no one is tougher than me . . .”

Suddenly a chair collided with Alexa from behind, sending her sailing past the floating pistol. She stretched for it but instead saw Morrison’s approaching scowl as she fell away. His hand wrapped around the pistol while she accelerated her forward momentum, curling her body forward and pushing off the nearest wall with her feet.

Just moments later a loud crack delivered a massive blast to the floor that sent her hurtling across the debris-filled air, along with sofas, tables, and now shattering curio cabinets. Her foot caught the edge of a sofa and she started tumbling end over end, impacting other objects in flight. She covered her head with her hands.

She lost all frame of reference as she rotated out of control, loud cracks and explosions following her across the room. A sharp pain pierced her leg, and she curled up in a ball until she hit something hard—very hard. By the time she could think straight again, Morrison was headed in from above her, leading with the pistol. The walls of the room were afire with an odd, gelatinous flame, like she’d seen in space experiments. Fire with no “up” to burn in.

Morrison lowered the smoking pistol with dismay and cast it away. “You didn’t leave me much ammo.”

She waited for him and whirled into a roundhouse kick that sent him rolling through flaming debris.

The walls groaned and creaked around them.

 • • • 

Grady pulled his way hand over hand toward Hedrick, keeping as much solid wreckage between them as possible. Hedrick struggled with some sort of hatchway and occasionally fired his weapon at Grady to keep him away.

But there was now too much debris in the room, and whatever type of beam weapon Hedrick was using, the energy kept hitting intervening wreckage and scattering as scalding vapor.

Grady was moving closer—now within twenty feet of Hedrick, ducking behind floating exhibit displays. He peered around one and could see that Hedrick was struggling to disengage a vehicle without wheels from its exhibit mount. Grady was close enough to see the glowing holographic words before it: “GMV—Gravity Mirror Vehicle.”

He had to admit, it looked like a Porsche for the twenty-second century.

Grady ducked back behind the display and shouted, “Hedrick! I’m not letting you leave here!”

In the roar of wind Hedrick didn’t seem to know where Grady’s voice was coming from, so he fired several times—but each time intervening debris was vaporized. “I’ll kill you if you try to follow me! You and Cotton will pay for this!”

Suddenly a soul-wrenching BOOM shook the building, and the walls beyond Hedrick cracked and disintegrated—sucking toward some powerful vortex. Hedrick dropped his gun to grab onto the GMV with both hands—even as he and the entire vehicle were sucked away.

Grady was pulled in moments later. As he looked ahead, he could see a massive hole had been torn into the side of the BTC building as the massive bulk of the brittle building flexed and turned on itself.

The view through the forty-foot-wide hole made him gasp. They were at least fifteen thousand feet in the air. The grid of city and suburbs and distant lakes spread out below them with the dawn sun breaking over the horizon.

And then he saw Hedrick climb into the GMV, the hatch closing over him, just as the vehicle got sucked out, furniture, carpeting, and partition walls swirling around it. Grady hurtled through the opening and felt incredible vertigo as a blast of cold wind hit him. He rolled end over end  in some sort of eddy as a massive black wall rolled past him like the flank of a massive ship. There was a constant dull roar like that of an avalanche.

And then he suddenly felt himself falling again. He looked back to see the BTC tower still rising. He fell in the opposite direction just a few hundred meters away. A glance down and he could see the jagged end of the thousand-foot-long tower where it had been torn out from either the remainder of the complex or from its foundations.

Grady noticed something even more jaw-dropping—a huge hole hundreds of meters wide and unfathomably deep had been torn in the center of Detroit’s downtown, and the Detroit River was rushing in to fill the void. A Niagara-size wall of white water was pouring in below.

Grady snapped out of it as he continued to descend. He figured he was at only seven or eight thousand feet already. A glance up showed the jagged burning end of the BTC tower receding into the sky.

Alexa.

There was no way to get to her now, and he realized she had a gravis of her own integrated with her tactical suit. And she knew how to use it more than anyone. He turned his angle of descent again and saw his only course of action was to find Hedrick. To find Hedrick was to find the location of Hibernity.

Scanning below, Grady noticed a large piece of debris heading purposefully to the south. It was a sleek form like the GMV, but it still seemed to have something attached to it. The exhibit mount.

It was headed south, but it was also falling. Losing altitude.

Grady nodded to himself and directed his angle of descent toward it.

 • • • 

The interior walls within the BTC tower were oscillating with the gushing wind that poured through cracks and fissures in the diamond-aggregate nanorod shell. It seemed like everything was flexing around Alexa as she pulled her way along, trying to find an exit.

But Morrison kept on her tail. Since she couldn’t easily find a surface that wasn’t floating, it was hard to outrun him. There was nothing to run on.

The roar of wind and groaning and shrieking of massive sheets of metamaterials bending against forces for which they hadn’t been designed was terrifying. It sounded as though mountains were colliding in the sky.