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Authors: Almney King

All Light Will Fall (32 page)

BOOK: All Light Will Fall
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I climbed through the window. A single hovercraft rounded
the building, just ten meters beneath me. I looked up at Kailes.

“Fight hard,” he said. I nodded and released my grip on the
window pane.

I fell the ten meters down, dropping straight into the
hovercraft. The trooper jerked in surprise, reaching for his firearm. I knocked
him out with a fierce blow to the neck. He slumped over the driver’s seat,
hanging half out of the craft.

I stole his helmet and tucked my hair tight beneath the
mask. Then I gripped the trooper by the shoulders and tugged him to the
passenger’s seat. Taking control, I quickly surveyed the mechanisms of the
craft and pressed my hand against the automatic steering pad. The holographic
system burst to life.

“Welcome aboard. Please recline in your seat. I must secure
you to the vehicle,” it ordered.

Leaning back, two metal belts extended from both sides of
the chair and strapped me against the leather seat. “Thank you, please state
your destination.”

“Felix sl,” I demanded.

“Would that be autopilot or manual control?”

“Autopilot.”

“Mapping coordinates to Felix sl. Address; Felix sl 1290
Station at your request. G3 is unauthorized to depart as all passengers are not
secure within the vehicle. Please see that all passengers are properly
restrained to the vehicle.”

I reached over and realigned the trooper against his seat.
The steel bands slid over his shoulders, pressing him into the chair.

“Thank you. The distance from your current location to Felix
sl is twenty-six miles, a five minute travel by hovercraft. Please enjoy your
flight with G3.”

The craft blasted forward, flying swiftly into the night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CRISIS

 

 

When G3 arrived, I took manual control of the craft and steered
it down an abandoned alleyway. The Pioneer Signal Tower was simple to find. It
was less a tower and more of a dome. A giant mass of crystal and beaming
floodlights, and to the right of it, was the holding facility. It was hectic,
civil order officers and attack drones marching in and out of the building by
the second.

Dimming the floodlights, I moved over to the unconscious
trooper, indelicately removing him of his clothing. I slid into the thin
armored suit then rolled the flaccid soldier into the back seat.

I kept my pace unhurried as I sailed the glittery pathway.
Several citizens were hauled into the building. Some of them resisted. I
watched as the officers took collars from their belts and locked them around
the prisoners’ necks. They screamed at the vicious shock of the chokers,
falling limp at the knees. The others could hardly stand. They were completely
disoriented and were dragged mercilessly through the prison doors.

I followed close behind, gaining quick entrance into the
building. Inside was a glassy maze. Tall magnetic chutes launched up towards
the building’s many floors. Security droids roamed the chrome lobby, stopping
an officer every so often for an identification scan. The employee would recite
his name then flip the cover of his helmet, allowing the droid to briskly scan
his eyes. Then the android would thank him for his cooperation and leave the
attendant to his duties.

I pursued the newly arrived officers. They suspected nothing
as I tailed them down a long twist of halls. They came to a stop suddenly, and
I quickly hid behind the adjacent wall. They stood before a sleek, ebony work
station where three ARTIKA staff members busily worked the desk.

“We have a prisoner for lock and keep. Preferably an
unoccupied cell on the third floor.”

“Of course,” one of the women answered. “Cell 356 is
currently available.”

“Make sure to issue a red light to this cell. We want this
prisoner interrogated within the following twenty-four hours.”

“Absolutely. Is there anything further I can do for you
officers?”

“That will be all. Have a nice night.”

“Likewise,” the woman replied.

When the officers left, I rolled around the corner and
casually approached the booth. The lead receptionist glanced up from her work.
She smiled, but there was nothing welcoming at all about that bare curve of her
lips.

“How can I assist you officer?” she asked.

“Patra Cora Rosada,” I said.

The woman looked confused. “Excuse me?” The low tone of her
voice drew the other secretaries to attention.

My arms were already in motion. I drew two p22 pistols from
the belt of the suit. The woman shrunk back in a scream. I shot her colleagues
without a thought. Their screams rattled the long, empty halls. Blood
splattered across the station. The wounds were shallow, a mere chip in the
shoulder. They would live.

Several officers trampled onto the scene, and I quickly
gunned them down. Then my aim was back on the woman. She jerked in the chair,
her face fevered and trembling.

“The next one goes straight through your throat,” I hissed.
“Patra Cora Rosada... where is she?”

“I can find her for you just, just hold on,” she stammered.
Her fingers dashed across the keyboard with an entirely new resolve. “She’s in
cell 266 on the second floor.”

I took the stairs just as the warning sirens began. My legs
were a powerhouse of strength and speed as I raced the halls. With each rapid
bypass of numbers, the anticipation swelled, burning hot in my chest.
Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Sixty-five.

Sixty-Six.

I stopped and stood still before the door. My hands shook.
My body cold with fear. I could hardly look it at, let alone muster the courage
to open it. I slid the shield from my eyes and saw my reflection warped against
the metal.

I leaned in and peered through the slot of glass. There was
no one inside. She wasn’t there.

I struck the wall. My fist split deep into the metal.
Everything seemed to vanish. A hallow ache dug deep in my chest. There was so
much pain. And so much stillness.

And perhaps that was how I heard it. That deep, lyrical
patter through all that blaring soundlessness. I heard it. I heard her. The
familiar and marvelous drum of her heart. She was ten doors down.

I moved with speed and hurriedly broke through the door. And
there she was—my mother. I nearly overlooked her. For she was but a fold of
shriveled bone and gauzy skin bent in the bed of the cell. I held the cry in my
lungs and hurried over to her.

I drew the strands of hair from her cheeks and angled her
head to face me. The thin, crumpled tresses snapped beneath my tender touches.
She was horrendously malnourished. Her muscle tight to the bone. Her lips were
withered. And the line of her jaw protruded farther than it should. The
heavenly glow of her body was gone. It was a sickly gray now, killing the
lingering glimmers of her beauty.

I raised her wrist in search of a pulse. There was a delicate
throb just under the bruised skin. I raised her from the bed. She shivered a
bit against the cold of the wall. Her eyes were closed in sleep, or faintness,
I didn’t know which. But somehow I felt that she knew I was there, holding her.

She groaned as I lifted her onto my shoulders. The bone of
her hips pressed into my skin. I held tight to her and moved into the hall. A
blitz of fire suddenly whizzed from the far of the corridor. I retreated back
into the cell and fired the p22. The perfectly aimed shots downed all five
guards and they dropped face down to the floor.

I escaped through the north wing, safely returning to the
hovercraft. I yanked the unconscious trooper from the craft and secured Mother
in the passenger’s seat. As I rushed back around, shots fired from the dark,
the second bullet clipping the right side of my neck. I fired the mr2 and the
guard ducked back into the darkness.

The craft rocked as I climbed into G3, and taking the
controls, I steered the flyer up into the air. The guards fired as I escaped
above them.

“G3 is experiencing a hostile attack.”

I took manual control of the craft.

“I advise that you raise the vehicle’s cover guard and
activate the protective force field.”

I jammed my palm against the command pad. The craft shot forward.
“Would you like to proceed with my request?”

Three hovercrafts dipped over the buildings. They quickly
pursued G3, firing recklessly at the rear of the craft.

“Activate!”

A red halo enveloped the craft.

“G3 is under level 1 attack. I recommend mobilization of all
available weaponry for defensive onslaught.”

I veered left between two incoming buildings. “Activate!”

“Mobilizing rear and front cc Expelter Cannons. Weapons are
now at your disposal.”

Two more flyers joined the chase, blocking my front route.
The cc cannons fired and the enemy crafts steered aside. I sped through the
forged space, and they followed, flanking G3 on both sides. We spun as a
union, metal grinding and spitting up fire. I tried shaking them loose but they
had me pinned.

There was a metro ahead. We spun and crashed into the train.
The shuttle moaned, tilting right on its wheels. And as I jerked back the
controls, I wrangled free of the two flyers. The craft on my left spun wildly
and crashed straight through the metal crossing.

The flyer exploded. Glass and steel ripped through the air.
G3 rocked in the force of the blast, thrashing wildly until I regained control.

I banked right, trying to shake the final craft.

“Alert! G3 shields have been inactivated due to disruptive
damages.”

The flyer jolted right. I rotated G3 and aimed the Blaster
cannons at the enemy craft.

“Fire p30!”

An electric blast shot from the cannons. The pointed bolts
sliced through the enemy flyer and then it ignited.

I spun back around and several jet copters advanced from the
left. Three others approached from above.

“G3, I need to go fast!” I demanded. I glanced at Mother.
She was still unconscious, the metal restraints the only force keeping her
aligned against the seat.

“Request considered... now mobilizing Grand Speed Turbo
Jetters.”

The hovercraft launched forward with violent speed. I
gripped the handles of my seat.

“State your destination.”

“Norris Tower.”

“Negative. That would lead you into the Z-Zone. G3 is not
authorized to cross into those boundaries.”

“I know!” I coughed all of a sudden and felt a nauseous heat
bubble in my throat. I pressed a hand over the wound on my neck. And what I saw
there, dripping from the flesh of my hand, was thick and silver and
crystalizing fast over my skin.

“If the situation calls for emergency, you may override my
central command?”

“Override,” I stuttered. Heat boiled in my chest. I could
feel it crawling and sticking hot to my lungs. My body lashed forward. Silver
shot from my mouth. It came again and again, fountains of it splatted across
the halo-board.

“You are currently suffering from an unknown illness. It is
my duty to see to the health of the pilot. May I direct you to the nearest
first aid facility?”

“No!”

“You and your passenger will suffer death if not immediately
treated.”

I bucked forward in the seat. It felt like something was in
me, breaking out of me through my spine.

“How much further?!”

“Twenty seconds until Z-Zone arrival. I must alert you of
the incoming threat approaching the vehicle.”

“How far?”

“Sixty five meters exact.”

“And how far from... entering the Z, the Z-Zone till we pass
the tower?”

“You intend to exit the city entirely?”

“Yes.”

“Negative. That is not authorized... you are currently
experiencing a relapse of respiratory... enemy hostiles have zeroed attack on
the vehicle. How do wish to proceed?”

For a moment, there was nothing but blackness. Then there
was light again. I felt my heart stop, shake, then burst back to life. I fought
it again and again, that ruthless hand of death pulling from the outside in.

There was a sudden explosion at the rear of G3. Smoke rose
from the back end and the craft toppled mid-flight, overturning four times
before it continued.

A Level B warning flashed across the emergency screen.

“The vehicle’s eg vessels have undergone significant damage
and now retain thirty percent efficient energy. Grand Speed disabled.
Self-repair is unlikely at this time. I advise...”

“Have we reached the Z-Zone?”

“Yes, thirty seconds until the bypass of Norris Tower...”

The jet copters eased into a rectangular formation, locked
in, and fired. I veered left out of range, and again, when the missiles circled
back for a second time.

“Fifteen seconds until crossing. But I must warn you.
Bypassing Norris Tower is a Class A felony. If captured, you will be killed on
sight.”

“I know.”

“Then you wish to proceed?”

“Yes!”

“As you wish... Now approaching Norris Tower.”

Silver shot from my lips.

“You are in dire need of medical assistance.”

“I know!”

A second blast rammed against G3. It spun maniacally,
ruthlessly, the belly of the craft scrapping the thick gates of Norris Tower.
We descended down a juddering strip of black air. But even so dark and deadly a
dive, that formidable falling never felt so free.

We crashed, Mother and I, in a never-ending spin of broken
glass and floating silver. Those glittery, star-like beads turned and turned
through our twist of blood and steel. The sky turned. There was nothing but
smoke. Nothing but the gray. The moan of metal and the heat of fire. And as the
quiet settled, and the world grew still, I opened my eyes. It was over.

Everything was a blur as I felt around. A sharp pain pierced
my lower waist. I noticed then just how painful my position was. The craft had
overturned in the crash and the glass of the halo-board had sliced into my
side. All I could see through the gray in my eyes was the bright of my hair,
flowing like a flame as I moved.

BOOK: All Light Will Fall
6.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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