REHO: A Science Fiction Thriller (The Hegemon Wars) (22 page)

***

The water taxi was manageable enough for them to push up the beach. Near a cluster of trees, they worked straps with ratchets across the boat, anchoring it to the trees. As long as the trees stood firm when the storm hit, they would have a ride back to the yacht.

They had no direct verbal communication with the yacht, but Sola and Gibson would be able to send signals to the navigation band strapped to Slater’s arm. And if they were lucky, they would find Rainne and anyone else held there.

Slater hacked through the thick overgrowth as they neared Table’s Mountain. Ends could see what the map had called Devil’s Peak, its bulk jutting into the night sky, silhouetted against Omega. It was hard to see, but the low-level compound covered the earth like a military institution. The buildings were as foreign as whatever they contained.

Their breathing equipment was built into their suits; the collapsible helmets would be equipped once they made it to their entry point. With some luck, they would bypass the door’s security and gain ac
cess to the airlock and then the facility. Ends and Slater knew what to expect: the endless doors and maze-like corridors. They would find the control room and override to the main system, opening every door in the facility and launching a thirty-minute time lock to keep the Hegemon from reclaiming the system. Nothing would work in the facility for those thirty minutes. Everything would be opened, except for the outer doors and the sector where their military equipment and experiments were located.

“We’re here,” Slater said.

Thursday and Ends took point, scanning the jungle behind them.

“Why don’t these things use their spaceships?” Thursday asked.

“What?”

“I mean, they came here in spaceships but we never see them.”

“All right, I got it!” Slater said. The panel near the door raced through a series of symbols and flashed green.

“Green means go—no matter where you go!” Thursday said.

“Put your helmets on,” Slater said. The airlock’s door disappeared upward and they entered. Slater hit a series of buttons, and it closed behind them. He went to work on the second panel.

Ends closed his eye and concentrated on slowing his breathing to conserve oxygen. The reserve tanks had been rigged for external oxygen tubes. Ends remembered the last time they were here. The prisoners’ oxygen masks had been surgically attached to their faces, tubes running to a machine that followed them about. They were experiments to the Hegemon, nothing more than that. Once the doors opened and they shut down the electrical system, the crew would need to share their oxygen with whomever they rescued.

The panel flashed again, and the inner door opened. Inside, everything was white, sterile. Ends had imagined hospitals in the OldWorld resembling these walls. There was no one to greet them at the door. Too much time had passed for the Hegemon to think they were a threat. Whatever Kawasaki knew about their plans, or thought he knew, the word hadn’t made it to Omega.

“Come on, Rainne,” Slater said. His navigation band displayed three possible directions for them to go. The last time he and Ends infiltrated the compound, they had entered from a different part of the building. The security room had been hard enough to find back then, and as far as they knew, it could have been relocated.

Fire couldn’t burn in Omega; the lack of oxygen would make their weapons duds, if not for the modifications. Jag had the largest inventory of weapons, including the ones they carried now. These had been designed to fire in zero-oxygen atmospheres. Canisters fed oxygen to their weapons’ chambers. With a squeeze of the handle, oxygen jetted into them, allowing them to ignite.

“Thank you, Sola,” Slater whispered. “We got a location on the security room.”

***

Sola had been staring at Omega’s layout, her eyes crossed as she attempted to decipher its maze of corridors. Gibson had done the real work, though. Once Slater was in Omega, Gibson was able to infiltrate their computer system through a device implanted in the first panel Slater had hacked outside the facility. Of all the places to plant a remote hack, outside in the rain seemed the safest.

“Look at him,” Sola said, glancing back at Reho. “What if he’s just sleeping and not even in the Mainframe?”

“He’s in there,” Gibson said.

“How can you tell?”

“How long has he been sleeping? Thirty minutes? Look at his eyes.”

Sola walked over to Reho. His eyes were closed, his body motionless.

“REM begins around seventy minutes after falling asleep,” Gibson said. “If you see his eyes start moving around like a cat under a blanket, then we're in trouble. While immersed, he isn’t able to enter deep sleep. It’s the reason why constant immersants are always a bit twitchy.”

Sola hadn’t realized that. Being jacked into whatever system, the subconscious was being used in a way that was not part of natural brain function. He wasn’t actually sleeping; he was awake inside a world constructed by the aliens.

“Do you really think he can do it?” Sola asked.

Gibson rolled away from his laptop and looked at Reho.

“He has to.”

Reho rushed up
the stairs from the lobby. The worm monstrosity outside and the fact that his AIM only worked inside the building left him no other choice. The stairs didn’t spiral straight up; instead, they ran diagonally with the structure and wrapped around an abstract art form that jutted through the middle of the buildings.

A thunder of footsteps rose from the lobby floor. From eleven floors up, Reho watched as a group of Vectors stormed up the stairs behind him. He didn’t understand where they could have come from, since he’d seen no interior doors. Reho raced up the steps.

The stairs ended suddenly in an open room similar to the lobby. There was nothing in the room.
The building was hollow? A shell for what?

Reho stepped farther back and raised his rifle. He listened as the stampeding Vectors drew closer. His AIM flashed, and a white dot appeared in the building next door.

The first Vector appeared for just a moment before Reho sent a rapid burst that took off its head. Three other androids reached the top stair, followed by a cluster of seven more. Reho fired, taking out two androids and damaging another three. Reho dropped the assault rifle and shouldered his tactical shotgun, blasting two shells into the android nearest him. The next shot missed its target and took off the arm of the Vector next to it. White fluid spewed into the air and onto Reho as another android hit like a hammer, sending Reho flying back against the window. He dodged its next assault and kicked the android into the others. Reho drew two Eagles and dove through a crowd of Vectors, twisting as he landed on his back. Both clips emptied into six androids. Four androids remained, as Reho unpinned a grenade and rolled it several feet behind the pack of Vectors.

The explosion sent them flying in different directions. Reho reloaded and holstered his weapons. He picked up his assault rifle and sent a short burst of fire into the final two androids moving on the floor. He had no idea if there would be more. The Mainframe could create infinite replicas of anything it wanted. They were all digital copies, and destruction just meant deletion. Reho blasted the window with the shotgun. The pellets cracked the mirrored glass directly across in the other building. It would be at least a ten-foot jump. Reho fired twice more into the parallel mirror until all of its glass had fallen out of the frame.

The leap across was effortless. He’d avoided jumping too high, but his leap had sent him farther into the room than he’d anticipated. Reho rolled across a room filled with OldWorld computers. Lined along desks, their screens emitted the familiar blue glow. The white dot on his AIM showed a sublevel to the building he was in, and a green arrow on the screen pointed down. Reho had no reason to believe the Mainframe was helping him achieve his goal. Unless it was a trick,
someone
was helping him. If the signal was bait for something, then Reho would deal with it. For now, he had no direction to go but down.

***

“We have our signal. Let’s move,” Slater said, motioning for them to follow him.

The atmosphere and sterile look of the corridors reminded Ends too much of the previous mission. They had rushed the mission with nothing more than a printout of half the facility. The plans had been luck, nothing more. Random data collected by the Black Hats and printed. They hadn’t even known what it was until Slater found architectural features that he had only seen in Neopan. But half the layout had been enough. They had done what they set out to do: rescue Kibo’s wife and those with her. Now they returned to those same halls, once filled with Hegemon. Chased and butchered by them, Ends tried to push out the memory of that painful attack, those thick, alligator-skinned alien hands squeezing him and thrusting him against a wall. Even without their special suits, their strength was enough to make him check his primary weapon. He squeezed on the oxygen release and felt the air jet pass through the tubing.

Slater led them through three corridors without any resistance.

This time, they entered from the south end of the compound, in an area that Gibson was convinced would be vacated. The partial layout had been discovered more than twenty years before, but there was never any indication that the Hegemon had rebuilt or remodeled. If Gibson was right, the area behind these doors contained storage rooms for the Hegemon.

Slater lifted his arm straight up.
Stop.

Ends saw them. There were two Hegemon, both wearing black chest armor against their lizard-like bodies. They were like humans in so many ways. Ends had heard others refer to them as humanoid aliens. They stood on two legs and possessed two arms, their hands with six digits instead of five. Their muscular arms, shoulders, and necks reminded Ends of the action movie stars from before the Blasts. In many ways, they were like Reho.

Their faces, more than anything else about their appearance, distinguished them as non-earthly. Resting above their shoulders, almost seven feet off the ground, were their alien heads: beady black eyes contrasted against their reptile skin; thin, three-holed nostrils; their mouths hidden behind shiny, monstrous lips. Ends had never seen their mouths open, wasn’t certain about their teeth. He imagined razors.

“The cameras will be active six feet beyond us there,” Slater said, pointing to where four corridors converged at the aliens’ position. “Thursday, stay back twenty feet and use your sights. Don’t shoot unless the situation demands.”

Thursday nodded.

Ends shifted his assault rifle onto his shoulder and slid his knife from its thigh holster. He straddled the wall behind Slater. The alien guards stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the end of the hall. Neither had turned around. Ends heard their strange communication, one replying to the other in low-frequency chirps that reminded Ends of mice.

As they neared the guards, Slater slipped to the other side of the hall. Slater glanced back then lifted his vacant hand, holding three fingers. His fingers counted down to a closed fist then he jolted from his crouched position. In the same moment, Ends leapt and jabbed his nine-inch blade through its neck. The blade slid three quarters of the way through, and then slowed as the tip of the blade emerged from the other side like a tiny goose bump. The other alien slung Slater back and stumbled with Slater’s knife halfway through its neck. Ends gripped Slater’s protruding knife handle and turned it as though he were opening an avocado. Thick green blood poured down from its neck as its head plopped to the floor.

Slater retrieved his knife from the gore and looked at Ends. The look of gratitude that crossed Slater’s face did not go unnoticed.

“Look at the mess you made,” Thursday said, his voiced muffled by the oxygen helm.

“You can clean it up later, let’s go.” Slater replied.

From here they would rush to the security room and set phase two of the plan into action.

***

A beep sounded from the weather monitor on the navigation panel. Gibson pushed himself away from the laptop and rolled to the display. The worst of the storm was less than fifteen minutes away. Gibson checked their coordinates and saw they were still in range of Omega and connected to Phoenix. The danger now would be if the storm pushed the boat too close to the coast and they ran aground. They were a mile and a half out and within range, but the violent winds were unpredictable.

“As long as the anchors hold, we’ll be fine,” Gibson said as he turned back to the laptop.

Sola’s hands trembled. She’d been thinking of the Cold-Blu tucked away, hidden in her medic kit. The drug had been more than a constant fix for years to help her face each day. Since Ends finding the drugs on the trip to Neopan, he had stripped away the only thing that could help her face each new challenge. It was Reeves who’d, before the tunnels flooded, resupplied her. Now, the tiny blue liberators called out to her, promising to end all fear and doubt.

***

Reho made his way down the stairs. As far as he could tell, nothing was pursuing him from above or below.

His AIM indicated a sublevel, but it couldn’t be accessed from the stairwell. The green arrow had faded as he descended the stairs. Reho walked through the lobby. A set of sofas and oversized chairs reminded him of something . . . something from his dream.

Reho stood directly over where the white dot appeared on his AIM. There was nothing but solid ground beneath. He slid his goggles on and moved for the door.

The building shook, shattering most of the glassed doors. Reho grabbed his rifle and spun around, dropping to one knee. It wasn’t the Vectors, nor was it the Hegemon. The monstrous worm had broken through the floor and now slithered across the lobby in his direction. Reho fired, but it wasn’t going to stop the creature this time. He dodged out of the way as the worm launched through what remained of a glassed door. Reho emptied the rest of the clip into its side, but it only created faint tears in its thick brown skin. One of the spikes had been blasted off, dissolving into the floor as it landed.

Reho ran toward the lobby counter as the creature repositioned. Lights shining from within the hole caused Reho to pause. With only a moment to decide, he dropped into the opening. His knee hit one of the rails on the track, sending a jolt of pain through his body.

The worm didn’t follow him down. Reho rolled away from the hole’s opening and brought his shotgun up and ready. He waited, but the creature was gone.

Reho flipped a switch on the side of his goggles. A hazy blue light illuminated the space around him. It was a tunnel like in Shibuya. He followed the tracks for forty yards until reaching a station platform. He climbed out of the tracks and scanned the platform. On the far side, a subway train waited, its interior lights on.

Clunk.
A newspaper stand toppled. The glass broke and newspapers spilled out of it. Behind it, he saw something move.
A limb?

Reho moved closer. A cat emerged, its eyes beaming like flashlights. Reho thought it harmless, initially, but as he moved closer, he saw its razor-sharp claws. It launched. Its mouth opened wide, revealing tiny needlelike teeth and a forked tongue that flicked out of its mouth. Reho fired a shell into the cat, reversing its direction and painting the wall behind it in blood.

Reho crouched down next to the newspapers.

He looked at the date and read its headline:

12-26-2041

Orange Party Extremist Threaten World

With Nuclear War:

Is Your Government Compromised?

He scanned the platform for any other creatures.

His AIM flashed green again as the arrow returned. It pointed to his left, toward the underground train.

The door opened as he approached, and he stepped on board, the arrow directing him to the navigation room at the front of the train. He scanned the panel but there was only a single illuminated button. He slid his goggles up and saw that it flashed blue. The green arrow on his AIM pointed down once again.

Reho hit the blue button. The underground train lurched forward and built up speed. Reho didn’t have to check his AIM to know what direction he was headed.

***

“Down the corridor we’ll take a left, then the next right. The security room is at the end of the hall,” Slater said. “Thursday, you cover us as we take any oncoming resistance. Once at the security door, defend our position. It’ll take me at least forty-five seconds to override the panel and get us in.”

Ends knew the drill. It was the same procedure they’d used before. Something about the familiarity of the plans made him uneasy.
Had they really not expected a second invasion?

“Go big or go home, right?” Thursday laughed nervously.

“Exactly,” Slater said. There was no retreating. They would die here tonight unless they had a world of luck on their side.

They followed close behind Slater, sprinting through the halls. A Hegemon stepped out of a room ahead of them. A moment later, a direct shot from Ends’ rifle sent a spray of green across the room. The silencer attached to the end of their guns muffled its sound.

Seconds later, they made the first turn and came face-to-face with two Hegemon transporting something on a rolling table. Slater fired a burst of shots into one of them, flinging its body across the table and onto the floor. Thursday fired a single shot, beating Ends to the skull of the second Hegemon.

They’d wasted too much time. Whatever lay on the rolling table was strapped and screaming. Slater buried his knife into it, and it ceased. They moved down the corridor and took the final turn. They could see the security room at the end of the hall.

A narrow windowpane ran above the desks in the control room. Ends could see two Hegemon sitting at a row of monitors, their heads bobbing as though caught up in a joke. Luckily, they were ignoring the monitors. But it wasn’t just the laughing aliens that caught Ends’ attention. Something was hanging against the wall inside the control room, something robotic, like an electronic version of a human suspended across rows of wires and devices. As Ends tried to get a better look at it, an unarmed Hegemon crossed the hall in front of them. It paused just long enough for Slater to fire two quick shots into its chest, slamming it against the door to the control room. The two aliens jerked their heads downward and peered into their monitors.

Ends and Thursday took position as Slater bypassed the door’s security lock.