Authors: John Koetsier
Nodding slowly, trying to keep an open mind, I started to dig into the content of the old computer. We found a file on the home screen labeled Read Me First, opened it, and started reading.
“Geno,” the file started, “Before you do anything else, find the shielding mechanism and ensure it is on. Look on the wall, to your right, for a large screen. You’ll find it under Defenses.”
I got up from the chair, walked to the wall and right, and a part of the wall lit up — becoming a control screen. Livia searched through the menus, found Defenses, and tapped it, popping up an option labeled Shield. She tapped it too, then found a control, which was currently Off. Tapping the wall a third time, the control switched to On, and we heard a new note in the background hum of machinery surrounding us.
“Good,” the file continued. “Now you’ve isolated this space and made it impossible for Hermes to use the recall mechanism in his base to snap you back via the s.Leep pods.”
We continued reading for a long time, trying to understand our history and our past, learning about this machine that we were inside, and the project that Livia and I had once established. Often I felt that I was just scratching the surface … old or original Geno, it seems, had been in too much of a hurry to put down enough detail for us to really understand everything in depth, so he had included an assortment of files and documents and histories of correspondences, all of which were very hard to tie together in a consistent, coherent whole. More than that, however, much of the documentation was technical — details about the machine, and how it worked, and how to work it — and I was just not really understanding.
“I think there are parts of my brain that are just gone forever,” I said to Livia. “I really have no memory of these technical details, and I don’t think I will ever understand them.”
Tired, I rested my aching head in my hands, thereby saving my life.
The ancient little computer exploded as a thick laser beam sliced right through it, superheating some of its glass and plastic and metal. I ducked farther, just in time to see the wall behind my head vaporized as another bolt passed right where my head had been a second before. Diving down the ground, Livia and I narrowly avoided a third bolt which took out the chair.
“Who …” Livia mouthed as we crab-crawled to cover by the nearest bit of cover. I poked my head around the corner, pulled it back to narrowly avoid another blast.
“Probably some enemy we missed,” I guessed. “We have to go reason with them … probably two or three on the stairs where we came down.”
I looked around. The computer with the knowledge that we so desperately needed was a shambled mess. The desk and chair were shattered and burning. And a good chunk of the floor was melted and deformed. There was nothing for us here anymore. With a pang of regret I pulled Livia to her feet and we ran through the alleys and corridors of this immense machine, to a conflict with people who wanted to kill us, whom we had attacked and murdered, and who were our true allies.
Knowing something more of the layout now, we made quick time, checking whenever we had a clear view of the stairs and door to make sure the attackers were still there. Dodged more than a few laser beams on the way, we eventually made our way to a safe spot about a hundred meters away from the base of the stairs.
“If I were them,” I whispered to Livia, “I’d have put at least one person in hiding down here, so that if our attackers were running to the stairs and up them, we could take them out from behind.”
“Yes,” Livia answered, already scanning the area as best she could without revealing our location. “But where …”
We pulled back two or three times, slowly rotating around to different positions, being extremely careful not to risk detection from above. The third time, Livia halted, stilled me with a hand on my shoulder, and inclined her head. I followed her gaze, and saw just the faintest edge of a boot, high over our heads on a tall bank of machines. The soldier there must be lying in wait on top of the rack, facing the stairs, with a weapon aimed at the base of the landing. If we approached, we would die.
“Careless,” I whispered.
Together we climbed the stack. There were plenty of footholds on the way, and we made good time in spite of our need to stay hidden from the staircase … and silent. A minute later I slowly eased my head above the top corner, right behind the sentry.
Our placement was as perfect as my timing was bad. I was indeed right behind the sentry, and could have either taken him out or subdued him, whichever was quickest and quietest, except for the small problem that he was right at that very moment engaged in a silent sign language discussion with two soldiers at the top of the staircase. Who of course, immediately saw me.
I had no appetite for killing any more. If everything that Livia and I were reading and hearing was true, these were our people, our friends, our allies. I stood up in full view and lifted my hands to show I was not holding a weapon, that I was in some sense surrendering, and that they should not shoot. The next few seconds stretched out for about ten minutes.
The two soldiers on the staircase immediately raised their weapons. I yelled
don’t shoot
and started to drop behind the corner. I saw their trigger fingers start to squeeze, and I knew that gravity was not going to pull me to safety below the top lip of the machine before the speed of light carried super-energetic coherent photons into and through my body. Just as their fingers completed the motion, the sentry in front of me, who had been wondering why his compatriots were aiming weapons right at him, heard me shout and finally clued in there was someone behind him. Raising up slightly, he turned his head to look.
I saw his eyes widen as they latched on to mine, and then they disappeared as pink and grey mist exploded from a now-shapeless mass above his neck when both beams intersected in his brain. I continued the fall and landed, three feet below the highest point of the machine, covered in wet slime.
Livia looked at me, aghast, as I furiously wiped my face to clear my vision, then shouted, almost screamed, at the men on the platform.
“Don’t shoot! I am not your enemy!”
The only response was an angry laugh and a laser bolt angling down, just missing our bodies. Risking her life, Livia poked her head above the top, whipping back down again just in time to avoid another blast.
“One is staying at the top to cover us and make sure we don’t move. Another is running down the stairs to get us from below!”
As she spoke I hear the clanging of boots on metal. Our position would soon become our final resting place, if we did not move.
“Livia,” I said, “I love you.” I kissed her lips hard and then soft.
“We have to move before that soldier gets down. I’ll go first, drawing his fire,” I said. “Then you jump. Drop and roll into the niches of the next row. If we can reason with these guys I want to, but I don’t want both of us to die here and now!”
She looked at me with tears brimming. Wiping furiously, she told me she loved me too. Then with a quick kiss on my forehead she stood and jumped left.
“Livia!”
Laser bolts followed her and my heart tore but I could not waste her gift of time and distraction. I immediately rose and jumped right.
We were higher than I thought, easily ten meters, thirty feet. The ground came up fast as laser bolts dazzled my eyes and singed my hair. I met the ground with bent knees, absorbing force, rolling to my side, absorbing more force, and rolling again right into the covering overhang of the next rack of machinery, weapon at the ready.
My ankles and knees were on fire, but I ignored them. Listened for the man who was coming down the ladder, and heard him, probably near the ground level now. Leaned out from cover, saw him coming down the last flight, and squeezed the trigger, spraying bullets that hit low and high, and pulling back into cover.
“Livia!” I almost screamed, then realized that I had a radio. Savagely keying it with my finger, I messaged her -- just two clicks, an interrogative. Waited. And waited.
Then I heard automatic weapons fire from the bay she had leapt down into, and my radio crackled to life.
“Getting old, Geno?” Livia’s voice said. “That dude was wearing armor. I just finished him off.”
I sighed, almost sagged to the ground, thankful that she was alive.
“Getting old with you, Liv,” I replied. “Anything with you.”
Then I stood up again, using the radio to call for Kin and Sama to come. The last remaining soldier on the staircase still had the high ground and still commanded our position. Kin and Sama, or at least one of them, could approach from behind while we laid down covering fire, open the door, and disarm or kill him.
There was no response.
I tried again, wondering, waiting, willing Kin and Sama’s voices to come through. Nothing. Until a mocking voice broke in to our channel, laughing.
“Looking for backup, Geno? Wondering where they are? Get used to the feeling, G-man.”
I straightened up slowly, recognizing the voice but not yet quite able to put a name to it, feeling a million years old.
“You killed them.” It wasn’t a question.
“With pleasure, Geno,” the voice replied. “With pleasure.”
“Does it mean anything to you,” I answered,” that we were originally friends? That according to Jonas, and according to my former self, we were taken prisoner and mind-raped by Hermes, to do his will? That the same was likely done to you, and that we now want to stop the killing?”
“Not really,” the voice answered. “I never really liked you anyways. And there was no raping, mental or otherwise, for me. I know exactly what Hermes wants, and I know exactly what I want.”
Finally the voice rang a distant bell in my tired brain. I knew the name that belonged to it.
“Rast. You’re Rast,” I said.
“Bingo!” he replied almost jovially.
I closed my eyes, remembering. Rast had been in the Hall of the not-gods as well. He had always disliked me, and we had fought to the death that one day on that training exercise in the valley.
“Rast,” I said, “Are you aware that Hermes took a copy of you too? Somehow, I don’t know how … you are among those he stole.”
A mocking laugh cut me off. The radio clicked twice.
“Geno, Geno, Geno. I was his eyes and ears in this pitiful group of do-gooders, and his man in our band of warriors. There are many of me — that’s how he knew where and when they’d be interfering in history. That’s how he finally learned the location of this base. And that is how you, his tool turned traitor, will die.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. Vicious and angry.
“Don’t be so sure you’ve won immortality, Rast. The copy of you at our base is currently growing icicles in cold storage, and hasn’t been out of s.Leep for months and months.”
I heard clicking noises on the radio circuit again. Sneaking a peek, I realized that Livia was communicating with me, warning me. Rast was on the move, coming down the stairway while keeping us busy with talk. He was wearing heavy body armor, including a helmet with a face shield, and once at the bottom, he could either wait us out, forcing us to cross fifty meters of open floor right in the face of his deadly accurate laser fire, or he could seek us out.
Either way, he held the advantage in weapons and armor. But it would be a lot safer for us to withdraw, regroup, and attempt an ambush somewhere in this vast room.
I clicked back to Livia, letting her know that I understood.
“So subtle,” Rast’s mocking voice sounded in my ears. “So foolish. You never did get that little head implant, did you Geno? Too bad, that would have made things so much easier.”
“What are you talking about, Rast?” Livia’s voice came on.
“Hermes’ organization created the latest version of the technology,” the hated voice replied. “It’s one reason so many in your organization were so easy to mind-wipe … although he always worried about you, Geno. The wipe-and-replace worked best with brains that already had the implant. For those, Hermes added some special improvements, including this one.”