Project Solaris 2: Hero Rising (13 page)

"Yes, during our demonstration for Mohn Corp. You never came back, and Dick wouldn't give me a straight answer about what had happened to you," Suresh said, eyes widening as the connections formed. "That was your abilities manifesting, wasn't it?"

"Brilliant as always," I said, gesturing at the bars. They lowered, and I commanded the field to release her.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Jillian asked, rising warily to her feet. She slid into the same combat stance she'd been teaching me.

"She's innocent," I said, glancing at Jillian. "I trust Suresh. She's just a pawn in this, and if we fill her in on the truth, she could be one hell of an ally. She's the smartest person I know."

"All right," Jillian said, eyes narrowing. She stared hard at Suresh. "This had better not be an act. If you step out of line, I'll snap your neck and dump your body in space."

"Suresh, meet Jillian," I said, stepping between them. "Please forgive her rather blunt attitude. We've been through a lot, and trust is in short supply as of late."

"So you've located the spy in your midst, then?" Dick said, his voice causing me to jump. I rounded on him.

"What do you know, you traitorous piece of shit?" I asked, taking a threatening step closer. "Before you smart off, I'll remind you that your life is in my hands, and right now I have no reason not to drop you from orbit."

Dick eyed me appraisingly. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "Would you really kill me in cold blood?"

"Without a second thought," I snarled, knowing it was true even as I said the words. My early squeamishness had faded.

"He'd have to beat me to the kill switch," Jillian said, stalking over to the bars. "How many people have died because of you? How much closer are the grey men to winning this war because of your actions?"

"David," Suresh said, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder. "If everything you're saying is true, then Dick clearly has a lot to answer for, but he isn't going anywhere. You don't have to decide this right now."

I considered her words, glaring hatefully at the man who'd caused me so much pain. "No, I don't. Help me make that decision, Dick. If you're useful, you get to live. If not..."

"All right," Dick said, shrugging. I'm sure he'd have straightened his tie if he'd been able to reach it. "I don't know who the spy is. I was contacted twice. The first time told me you were meeting with Doctor Usir, but we couldn't get there in time. The second told me you and your team were heading to Egypt, and that you'd be hunting for the Hall of Records. We were there, because the spy told us exactly where to be."

I was silent for several moments. What did he get out of telling me the truth? His life, sure, but Dick was a complex man. There was always more to his motives. Was he telling me about the spy so I wouldn't trust my team? Or to distract me from something else? 

My heart sank as I put the pieces together. We'd told the team we were meeting with Osiris at his San Francisco office. That meant the spy passed along the bogus information. They'd almost certainly alert either Dick or the grey men. It didn't matter which. The result would be the same. Dick would have alerted them, and that meant they could already be attacking Mohn's San Francisco facility.

I waved a hand and a holographic screen appeared next to me. I willed it to dial the number Osiris had provided me. It rang twice, then the screen filled with Osiris' face. He looked perhaps thirty-five now, a man in the prime of his life.

"David, what can I do for you?" he asked, giving me a warm smile.

"Get out of there. Now. They're coming for you," I said.

Interlude

Osiris swore in a language that had seldom been uttered in the past fifteen millennia. He cut the connection, shooting to his feet and moving to the far side of the office. The painting of Stone Henge clattered to the ground as Osiris knocked it from the wall, already placing his palm against the scanner. The safe popped open with a hiss, and he withdrew the single object from inside. The dagger didn't look like much, its glittering blade indistinguishable from common gold, at least to the naked eye.

The blade was far more than that, of course. He could feel the power pulsing within the blade, the energy he'd so carefully husbanded over the last few decades. It wasn't much, just a thin trickle. It paled when compared to the might he'd once commanded, but it was all he had. Ra's will, it would be enough. He tucked the blade into the back of his belt, covering the weapon with his blazer. Then he moved to his desk, tapping the intercom button.

"Jolene, alert security that we may have some unexpected guests. Have the top twenty floors evacuated, please," he said, kneeling next to the desk. He opened the lowest drawer, then reached inside to feel along the top. His hand closed on the pistol, and he cocked the weapon as he withdrew it. Grey men physiology wasn't so different from humans, and a slug to the face was just as lethal. The gun wasn't as effective as one of their boomerangs, but it didn't draw from his own energy reserves. 

He'd need that power, both for defense and likely to regenerate from wounds he'd receive during the fight. The grey men were consummate warriors, and if they really were coming, they'd come with enough force to subdue him. He had no illusions about that. They didn't fully understand his true nature, so far as he knew anyway, but he'd cost them dearly in several recent battles. They were unlikely to underestimate him again.

The windows began to rattle. It could have been a small earthquake of the type that often struck San Francisco, the type that locals knew well enough to all but ignore. But it wasn't. The thrum was too deep, and it didn't affect anything but the windows.
They
were here, and combat was about to begin in earnest.

Osiris moved to the far side of the desk, dropping into a crouch as the bay windows lining his office exploded inward. Glass peppered the entire room, the shrapnel destroying art and furniture he'd collected over the last several centuries. It was replaceable. He was not.

He snapped the gun up, scanning the gap where his windows had been. Wind howled through the room, but there was no sign of movement. Yet. Then several forms shimmered into existence. All five were grey men. Two wore the wrist blades he'd first seen in the mothership he'd helped David steal. The other three held the familiar golden boomerangs, terrifyingly lethal.

They hadn't bothered with their pawns. Perhaps they'd been unable to collect them on such short notice, but Osiris had a feeling that wasn't it. This battle was personal. They were determined to remove him from the equation once and for all. If they succeeded, then the world was doomed.

There was so much he still needed to teach David, so many plots that would wither if he were not there to see them to completion. So he resolved to live.

Osiris sighted down the barrel, snapping off three shots at the grey man on the far left. All three pinged off an invisible shield, ricocheting into the nearby wall with metallic cracks. Blast it. He should have predicted that they'd use many of the abilities they'd instilled into their human experiments. A volley of green blasts answered his gunshots, and Osiris dove behind a nearby couch. It evaporated, but he'd expected that. In the split second it still existed, he activated one of the abilities he'd instilled into his own helixes all those millennia ago.

The short-range teleport carried him behind the same grey man he'd fired at, one of the ones armed with a boomerang. Grey men were nothing if not pragmatic, and erecting a telekinetic shield took energy. It was possible the creature had encased itself in a bubble, but he was gambling that it had instead chosen only to erect a barrier in front of it.

Osiris glided soundlessly forward, slipping the dagger from his belt. He plunged it into the back of the grey man's spine, just below the point he'd find a C1 vertebrae on a human. It slid silently through flesh and bone, severing the creature's spinal column. The blade was wedged there, and Osiris tested a theory he'd long been curious about. He willed the sunsteel blade to perform its greatest function, the reason why the dagger was so very valuable.

Pulses of bright green energy shot up the blade. The creature's skin grew even more pallid as Osiris drank its strength, a predatory smile growing as he realized his theory had been right. The Builders had created sunsteel, and every weapon that still existed was made from reforged weapons they'd created. Since they'd created it, it stood to reason they were also vulnerable to it. Strength and power filled him as the creature's life force surged through his body.

The other grey men were already reacting, and the closest one glided forward. The plasma blade fixed to its wrist ignited into a beam of pure green, and it launched a low slash at Osiris' midsection. He tumbled backward onto his back, narrowly dodging the blow. Going prone reduced his profile, screening his body from the other grey men. The two with boomerangs spread out, hesitating as they tried to line up a clean shot.

Osiris kicked out with both feet, knocking the grey man with the plasma blade back into its fellows. Then he teleported again, fueling the ability with the strength he'd stolen from the grey man. Unfortunately he hadn't had the time to fully drink his essence, but hopefully he'd procured enough to sustain him through this battle.

He reappeared across the room, raising the pistol and squeezing off several shots into a grey man's skull. The creature gave an inhuman shriek of pain, its fellows already swiveling to deal with Osiris. Osiris teleported again, squeezing off several more shots from another part of the room. This time, the shots pinged off a telekinetic shield. The grey men had adapted their strategy. He rolled out of the way as blasts of green washed over the area where he'd been standing.

You are older than most of your kind
. A voice thundered through Osiris' mind, and he shook his head to clear it. The delay cost him, and a green blast caught him in the chest. Skin and muscle burned away in a blow that would have killed a normal human. Osiris ignored the pain, teleporting three times in rapid succession. He cloaked himself in illusion when he landed, blending into the wall next to him. The voice spoke in his mind again as if he hadn't moved.
Your lifespan numbers in the millennia, yet your kind expire in a handful of decades. Only a few make it into their second century. None see a third. How is this possible?

Osiris felt tremendous pressure on his skull, burrowing through his mind. It laid bare the centuries, pilfering his memories like a thief stealing jewels. He tried to stop it, but he lacked his wife's skill at shaping. The grey man took what it wanted, and Osiris was powerless to stop it. He scanned the surviving grey men, who were no longer attacking. All three had moved into a wedge, and he could feel the potent, telekinetic barrier they'd erected. They were protecting something, or someone.

His eyes widened when he realized who it must be. David had told him of the grey men's leader, the ageless consciousness that had witnessed millions of years. It suddenly made sense. The being sifting his mind made him feel like a child. The gulf of power between them was greater than that between Osiris and a normal human.

Ahh, it all makes sense now,
the void said, thrumming through his mind.
You and your kind were aided by Ka. You modified your helixes to control the Ark network, and have taught yourselves primitive shaping. I can learn much from your memories. 

Osiris went rigid, the sunsteel blade clattering to the floor from nerveless fingers. Something shimmered into existence behind the grey men. The creature was taller, and its skin more green than white. It studied him with flat, black eyes as it approached, still peeling away layers of Osiris' mind. He struggled, but knew in his heart the fight was over. The grey man would take whatever it wanted, and he was powerless to stop it.

Chapter 22- Bad news

"Looks like you've got a serious problem," Dick taunted, dickishly as usual. I tried to ignore him, reminding myself that he was my prisoner, still locked in the stasis field.

My attention was fixed on the holographic projection the rest of us were watching. It displayed a local San Francisco news channel, which was discussing the story of the hour. Apparently, an explosion had occurred in the penthouse of the Mohn building, and authorities were investigating. The newscaster was careful not to call it terrorism, but the undertones were there in the skeptical way she said, 'possible gas leak'.

"What do you want to do?" Jillian asked, quietly. She'd gone into focus mode. I'm glad one of us was able to.

"We have to assume Osiris is dead, or worse, captured," I said, sighing. I turned to Suresh. "It's time for you to make a choice. I can return you to Earth, and you can start over. That means finding a new job, and pretending like everything you've seen isn't happening. Or, you can take a stand and help us fight back."

Suresh glanced at the south wall, which still showed earth beneath us. When she glanced back at me, her mouth firmed into a tight line. "That isn't really a choice. I can't walk away, not now that I know the truth. A little of it, anyway. I still have a lot of questions, but if I can help you fight back, I'm willing."

"Good," I said, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. "You'll be a tremendous asset."

"That still doesn't give us an immediate course of action," Jillian said. Her entire body had gone rigid, and I could tell she was ready for a fight. "You know what this attack means. There is definitely a spy in our midst. Your buddy Dick here might be a dick, but that doesn't mean he's wrong. We have a serious problem, one we need to deal with right now."