All Light Will Fall (30 page)

The man howled and swung his fist. I gripped his arm and
brought my knee up into the bridge of his nose. A sickly crack broke from the
bone. He flew back and crashed into one of the machines.

I looked to the others huddling beneath the stations.

“Open the doors,” I demanded.

No one moved. I spotted a man trembling behind one of the
cubicles. I went to him. His eyes went this way and that, searching
pathetically for a way out.

I raised the man by his collar and dragged him near the
exit.

“Open them!” I snapped.

He reached up, his hand trembling as he tapped the touch
pad.

“Don’t kill me,” he whimpered. The doors slid open.

I snatched him by the coat. “Not yet,” I hissed. “Show me.”

He stumbled into the hall, pointing left. “That way,” he
directed.

“Listen to me,” I whispered. He shuddered at the hiss in my
tone. “Tell me the wrong way, and I’ll do more than kill you. I’ll make you
suffer. Understand?”

He nodded. “I swear!”

I shoved him forward. We hurried down the hall and the
sirens sounded. Footsteps rippled through the building. There was a three way
intersection at the end of the hall. We went left and took the second corridor.

A patrol squad happened across our path. They fired. I
ducked behind the converging wall, holding tight to the hostage.

“Surrender yourself, 2102!”

They were close now. I counted eleven overall, five in the
lead, the others posted at the rear.

“Surrender yourself or we will annihilate you. Final
warning!”

“You should do as they say,” the mw panted. “Think about
it...”

I gripped him by the collar, raising him from the floor. His
legs thrashed as I pressed him against the wall.

The soldiers closed in. I waited. The first rounded the
corner quickly, firing his lpc. I spun out of rage, and gripping the gun,
twisted the aim of the weapon. It fired, once, twice, four times into the other
guards.

I jerked the weapon forward, bringing the barrel to the
trooper’s throat. The man bucked against me. His grip on the trigger tightened
and squeezed. A burst of red hit my face. And the body slid to the floor.

A second squadron stormed the hall. I turned and dodged the
whizzing shots. Then I saw him, the mw running, and the fiery bullets sniping
him square in his back. He fell to his knees, then sagged face down to the
floor.

I took down the remaining guards then raced right into a
second hall. A line of silver doors ran along the walls. I froze. I remembered
where I was suddenly: the humanization facility. I kicked through the third
door on the right then slipped inside.

The motion lights flickered to life. The room was empty, the
walls bare and gray. A computer system stood alone before a two-way mirror.
Behind the glass, an empty chair stood in the gloom. The buckles and straps
gleamed beneath the center light, and in that light, the residue of brain
matter clung to the white of the wall. Suddenly, I remembered everything. The
flickering shapes. The numbness. The blood.

I looked to the ceiling. There was a vent in the left
corner. I searched for a way to reach it. I rolled three computer chairs
beneath the vent, stacking them one atop the other. I climbed up and pressed a
foot at the bend of each chair. I braced myself against the walls and reaching
up, slowly gripped the vent. I wrenched the cover back and tossed it aside.
Then I leapt into the dark space.

The tunnel was cold. There was a strong wind inside that
sizzled against my skin. I crawled; left down one passageway, right down
another. The sirens grew louder and through the splits of the vents, a squad of
guards stampeded towards the southern wing of the hall. A league of robotic
sentinels stormed after them.

I had seen war drones before, but these were of a new and
lethal design. Their arachnid legs marched in perfect tandem with the other.
Even their movements were precise, the upper juncture of their bodies jerking
back and forth while they carefully scanned the area. gf cannons jutted from
the waist. There were several of them, two at the side of the body, four more
protruding from the shoulders.

I continued through the passageway until I reached a second
room. I ripped the vent away then gently folded down from the ceiling. My
landing was soft and silent.

Then the memory returned: the long line of steel lockers and
the tagged assortment of weaponry revolving on the double rotators. Every other
day, Kitty and I would meet here before training. We would slip into gear and
share a brief and casual conversation. She would ramble about some asshole from
the dining hall or a wild dream she’d had the night before, all in a single
breath. I would, on occasion, purposefully ignore her. I suppose I missed her
irritating babbles of romance and adventure. Perhaps I missed her as well.

I raided one of the lockers. There was a life pack and black
flexi-suit inside. No halos though. I slipped into the leather material with
haste, stuffing the Meridian armor into the pouch.

I took an mr2 from the revolver, strapping it to the back of
my suit. I picked up the Bomb Blaster next. It was nothing but a light weight,
mid-sized hand gun, but the power it emitted could tear through anything. Once
I reached the surface of Pilot, I would need it.

I returned to the vent, and with a powerful leap, lifted
back up into the dark. The surface vent wasn’t far, and when I reached it, I
peered up into the chute. It was narrow but a long way up, maybe a hundred feet
at most.

I gripped hard at the walls, my feet shoveling inch by inch
up the chute. I heard the sirens again as I reached the top and the thunder of
footsteps. I came down from the vent and stood alone in the empty hall. But
there were voices, drowned beneath the scream of the sirens.

I raced to the end of the hall, skimming the upcoming
intersection with the aim of my weapon. It was empty. But guards were closing
in. I could their angry steps echoing from the conjoining hallways.

I ran ahead. And as I turned the final corner, a large
infantry of men dashed into the hall. The second and third team rushed and
cornered me on my right and left. I couldn’t turn. I kept going. Gun fire
exploded from all three directions.

The action slowed. I raised the Bomb Blaster and fired three
times at the far wall. The blast rocked the building. A flurry of smoke filled
the air. I vanished into the fog. The gray was heavy, but still I could see
that gape of open air and feel the strong whip of the wind as I came closer, and
closer, my chest ablaze, my body hungry for freedom.

Then I jumped. A rain of fire followed my swift twist
through the narrow opening. And then I was falling.

I saw the night. The glitter of Helix City. The lights like
stars. Everything moved. Everything blended. One image. One sound. One heart.

I unstrapped the life pack, using the straps to hook the
cable line of the building. I jerked violently as the steel line snapped loose.
I panicked and gripped the broken wire. It whipped forward. And I went thrashing
through the air.

I heard the highways. The blast of horns. The hiss of
hovercrafts. The whistle of steel grating steel. I looked up. A shuttle was
coming, and fast. Faster than I could avoid.

The cable whipped and spun, lashing with speed. The train
came closer. I raised myself up and curled my knees into my chest. I took a
breath and crashed straight through the incoming glass. My body tore into the
shuttle, the glass exploding as I tumbled and clashed against the seats.

There was no sound for a moment, only a shrill noise in my
ears. But as that sound faded, the ringing turned to screams. I felt something
move from under me. And rolling to a stand, I saw what it was. Two passengers
lay wounded upon the floor. They were crushed against one of the broken seats,
one bleeding from the temple, another from his right eye. I was relatively
unharmed. And as I turned, the passengers saw this, their eyes wide and
trembling.

I stepped forward and they huddled back, holding strong to
each other. No one spoke. They simply stared at me, and as I gazed back at
them, I noticed something horrifying. These people were not the Ardent. They
were the Defiant. But as I looked at them, I saw something strange. That
dangerous flame of knowledge was missing. But as strange as it was, I
understood why.

These were the host humans, cast out and jaded by their very
own want. Those still clinging to the dream of plenty and perfection. They
wanted it so badly that it possessed their sleep, like a romantic dream. But it
was a lie. What they sought, the richness of youth and the comfort of
ignorance, was all a lie. They did not know, or perhaps they did know. Perhaps
the slave was content to be the slave. The slave of greed and war. ARTIKA’s
slave. I could see it, how weary and blind and foolish they were.

They looked like the dead. Their clothing was tattered.
Their skin gray as ash. Their bodies were cursed with age.

“Are you one of them?” someone asked.

“One of them?” I said.

A boy parted from the crowd. His mother reached after him.
There was a petrified look on her face.

“You’re an Ardent,” he said. There was amazement in his
voice.

The train was silent. An Ardent, he had said. But he was
mistaken. I was no Ardent. I was no follower of the Nazar. What did that even
mean? The name Ardent? The name Defiant? What purpose did it all serve? Man?
Arsenal? What did it matter? I didn’t know. Were we not all creatures? Were we
not all under God? I didn’t think so. Because here I stood, mighty as a god in
their eyes with beauty, and power, and strength. I was an idol, a dark lure
standing there with the Nazar’s symbol of rebirth flaunted across my chest.

Then I understood it, the meaning of Ardent, of the Defiant.
It was a symbol. A symbol of the slave against the symbol of the freeman. Even
the name Meridian and the name of man had their meanings. One blessed, the
other cursed. And was that not the flaw of man? To desire perfection, beauty,
and power above all else. And what would he not destroy? Who would he not kill
to possess it, to have the world in one hand and the might of a god in the
other?

A man stepped from the crowd. He was an elderly gentleman
with a curious look in his eye. “Stand back, son. She’s no Ardent. She’s
something else.” He pushed the boy behind him. “What are you?” he demanded.

I approached the man. He stood his ground, raising his arms,
protecting the passengers behind him. I could sense his fear though. His heart
beat hard and fast. “Everything you’ll become if you continue on this train,” I
said.

The man narrowed his eyes. “What do mean? Who are you?”

I looked at the people behind him. There were children,
mothers, and fathers of all ages. Young boys in shaggy clothing, their hair
long overgrown. The girls were thin, their faces dead and dirtied. I almost
pitied their hopelessness.

“If I tell you the truth, will you listen?” I said.

The man stared for a moment then lowered his arms. I took
one of the arm guards from the life pack and held it out for them to see. The
people gasped. The armor glistened bright as gold.

“Take it,” I ordered.

His hand shook as he reached to touch it. “What is this?”
the man gasped.

I pressed the metal into his hand. He jerked back suddenly,
afraid the light of the armor would burn him.

“A piece of the truth,” I told him.

He took the armor into his hand. The passengers crowded
around to see it, touch it.

“Turn back. Whatever you were told was a lie. The name
Ardent will never be yours. It is your children they want. The rest of you are
dead to them. Most likely, you’ll be killed. And no one will know. No one will
wonder. Your sons and your daughters will be turned to slaves, arsenals,
military dogs. With no memory. No dignity. No freewill. ARTIKA will destroy
them, mutate them. Their minds and their bodies, just as I am. And they will
suffer. ARTIKA will train them. Teach them to kill, to be obedient. Because
they’re at war. At war with a world we cannot see, with a people more rich and
beautiful than they are. And on that world, your children will die. Rot alone
in the very soil of that distant world. And they will accept it. That pitiful
death. It will be all they know; to serve, and kill, and die, alone and
forgotten. This is the future that awaits them. This is the future that awaits
you all.”

No one moved. There was fear in their faces, the gray of
death in their eyes. There was nothing freeing about the truth. It was
terrifying, inescapable.

“Why?” the man sighed. “How can this be?”

“You know how,” I said.

“But what can we do?” someone shouted. There is only death
out there for us beyond these walls! We have nothing! Our people starve! Sick
with disease! No water! No warmth! Here we are safe!”

“Is that what you think?”

“It must be a lie! You know nothing! You only mean to scare
us!” another snapped.

“Stop it! She’s only trying to save us!”

“No,” I said. “I can only give you the truth. What you do
with it is your own affair. But I’ll tell you this, if you fear death, you’ll
turn back.”

There was silence again. A gangly woman stepped forward. Her
eyes were hard as she spoke. “But we can’t go back, can we? So what do we do?”

I thought for a second. She was right. ARTIKA had them now.
The only option they had was a trade. I looked to the old man.

“The shuttle will stop soon. When it does, get off. The
patrol officers will stop you. Show them what I’ve given you.”

“What do I say?” he asked.

“Make a trade. They will let you leave if you give up my
location. Fifth Haven.”

“Will it work?”

I thought about it, and I was sure there was nothing ARTIKA
wouldn’t trade for their precious 2102. “Yes. Most definitely.”