The Last Revolution (12 page)

He slipped inside, and shut the door behind him. You could never be too careful. His eyes quickly adapted to the darkness. Antique hover cars sat rotting across the floor, each in a different state of decay. Various parts cluttered the free spots on the floor and it smelled of ancient fossil fuels and mold. In the distance was a lone bench covered in mounds of junk.

He laid his arm on the surface and swept everything to one side. The trash cascaded off the end of the bench, crashing to the ground and echoing against the abandoned walls. He lifted the black bag over his head and placed it down on the bench. As he opened it the radiant glow from the reactor lit up the room. Arakiel grabbed it with both hands and eased it out of the bag.

The reactor was a surprisingly small device given the immense power it contained. It was exhilarating and his to protect. He had been chosen and deep down he didn’t want to let it go.

The trip to the lunar surface would be a perilous one and he couldn’t risk the device being discovered. He had to conceal it. He needed it to look less conspicuous. The garage should have all the supplies he needed to fasten a cylinder around it. He found a piece of sheet metal he could bend hidden under a pile of boxes. Arakiel reached into the bag and pulled out the torch he’d used to cut a hole into the shipyard fence.

The metal turned a brilliant orange color as he applied the directed heat. Once it reached the correct temperature, he put on his combat gloves and used the vice grip to slowly bend it into cylinder. It took some effort, but he was finally pleased with its appearance. He welded the seam shut. Using some excess metal lying around, Arakiel welded a cap to one end.

He eased the reactor inside. The room grew dark without the green glow it had been producing. Arakiel turned on his wrist deck for light. Moments later the other end cap was welded into place. It now looked like an un-assuming steel cylinder. Although it wasn’t much of an improvement in terms of how much suspicion it could raise, at least it would be more stable and wouldn’t glow. The device was warm to the touch as he zipped it inside the bag. Gathering his tools, he placed each of them back into the bag’s side pockets.

As he walked to the exit he noticed a large barrel off to the side, it smelled of fossil fuels. He shook his head; it was so dangerous to leave these volatile chemicals lying around. He kicked the barrel as hard as he could. The lid went flying and the entire thing tipped over. Fuel gushed over the floor like a mini-flood. Pulling the torch out of the side pocket, he turned it on and then flung it into the liquid.

There was a great burst of light as the entire floor erupted in flame. The heat was intense and any objects left on the ground quickly melted away. The flames ripped at the walls and spread to each corner of the room. Several subsequent bursts of flames shot from abandoned areas of the garage. The chaos would make it easier to slip into the city unnoticed.

***

Alden moved through the throngs of people mindlessly dancing around him, their rhythmic moves highlighted by the strobe lights and lasers. Their warm bodies pressed up against his as he moved. He arrived at the back steps but several guards blocked the passage. He remained in the crowd, pretending to dance, as he waited for the right moment.

A well-dressed man in a sleek suit with blond hair approached the steps; he was followed by a group of rowdy clubbers. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Alden slipped in with the entourage. Atthe top, Alden broke away and headed to the right. From this vantage point he could see the entire club, the bartender in the distance, and the DJ below.

Turning a corner, he nearly walked into another group of bouncers. These guys were everywhere. They moved in and blocked his path, staring down at him with malicious contempt. “This area is off limits. Go back now.”

“I need to see your boss.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t need to see him. Get out of here while you still can.”

“Tell him I’m looking for Darar Khasim.”

The guard who seemed to be in charge whispered into his wrist deck. After a few prolonged seconds, he nodded and then turned his gaze back to Alden. He pulled his suit jacket back and revealed a small gun in his waist. “Today is your lucky day. Follow me.”

The bouncers moved through a set of doors and into a lavish room covered in red tapestries. The entire place had a distinctly oriental vibe. The left side of the room had a lone couch, with suits of armor on either end. On the right, a young woman sat behind a desk typing on a holographic keyboard.

At the opposite end was another set of doors. The second room was far larger and even more ornate than the first. Paintings, suits of armor, and ancient weapons adorned the walls and seemed to narrow the focus of the room on a large desk at the center. A massive tub of a man sat beyond that, shuffling digital papers. He seemed to tower over everything in the room, but his size would make it nearly impossible for him to move without help.

In the room, Alden counted six other guards. There were no exits except for the one he’d come through. He was surrounded and unarmed. If it came to a fight he’d need something to give him an advantage, a distraction of some kind. This man was too cautious not to take every precaution available. None of the decorative guns would be loaded, although the sword held by the 13
^th
Century Samarian suit of armor could come in handy—as long as it didn’t break when he used it.

With a deep, gruff German accent, Harkonnen said, “Come.”

Alden walked the rest of the way across the room and stopped in front of his desk. He bowed. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

“What do you want with Khasim?” He hadn’t bothered to look up as he continued to move the digital files around his desk.

“I need weapons and I have it on good authority that you’re the person to see.”

“Whose good authority?”

“To be honest, I’m not really sure, but I have reason to believe them.”

For the first time, the man stopped what he was doing and looked up at Alden. “What the hell are you doing here? You come into my club unannounced, with reliable information from somebody you don’t know, and now you want to purchase illegal weapons from me? You’re either really stupid or really brave. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Get the hell out of my club, while you can still walk.” He returned to the papers and his work.

The guards walked over and put their hands on his shoulders. Alden shrugged them off and took a step forward. “You will answer my questions.”

With a glint of mild amusement, Harkonnen looked up once more, giving the slightest of nods to the bodyguards behind him. Alden could feel their movement before they ever connected with him. He dipped out of the way as a fist sailed past his head and connected with nothing. Alden grabbed the wrist and punched up into the locked elbow, snapping the bone. Using his momentum, he kicked the bodyguard in the side and sent him sailing into a glass case. The entire thing shattered as he fell to the floor.

The second guard was about to pounce when Alden whipped his hand out and connected with the guard’s throat. He quickly dropped to his knees and Alden was able to land a debilitating blow to his temple. The guard fell back to the floor and didn’t move. From each of the four corners of the room, guards rushed him. They were all carrying small sub-machine guns. Anticipating the next course of action, Alden stepped to the side and used his foot to whip a small baton off the unconscious guard’s belt and into an emergency lever against the far wall.

The room went black as dozens of alarms sounded from inside the building. The nano-filaments in his eyes dilated, allowing him to see perfectly in the dark. Capitalizing on their confusion, Alden moved from the middle of the room and went after the nearest guard. He kicked his gun into the air, and then landed several debilitating attacks. The next guard didn’t fare any better. Random shots rang across the room as the guards attempted to locate him. Their morbidly obese boss could be heard yelling in the background.

Alden finished the last two guards off before he made his way back to the giant desk. Harkonnen was no longer sitting behind it. He’d fallen backwards in the chaos. His right shoulder was bleeding and he sat propped up against the wall, immobilized. Alden could tell that he wasn’t used to his current position; vulnerable and unprotected in the darkness.

Alden kicked a chair out of the way and strode over, until he stood before him. “Now, let’s try this again. Where is Khasim?”

“You didn’t have to do that. I was just testing you. I knew it from the moment I saw you. They’re real. You do exist. You’re one of those…Council ghosts.”

Watching his attempts to talk reminded Alden of a fish stuck in a net, fighting for its life.

Harkonnen continued, “We could make so much money together! The possibilities are endless!” His fear had been replaced by greed.

The room was ink black except for the occasional flicker of light from the waiting area. In his haste to get answers, Alden hadn’t contemplated the ramifications of his actions. If the alarms were going off, that meant the police, or even military could be on the way.

He must have guessed what was going through his mind. “The alarm system is hardwired into the National Guard. It’s amazing what money can buy. Come work for me and I’ll make this all go away.”

Alden didn’t have time to deal with him. He hurried to the suit of armor and yanked the sword free. He lowered the blade until it came to rest against the man’s neck. “How does it make you feel when you realize that some people don’t operate within the world of money? When you realize that all of this amounts to nothing?” Alden lowered his voice to a whisper and made sure to enunciate every syllable so there would be no misunderstandings, “The only way you’ll ever leave this room is if you tell me where to find Darar Khasim.”

A rush of anger flew over Harkonnen’s face. “You insignificant rat. You can’t threaten me!”

Alden pressed the blade against his neck and felt it sink into the man’s skin. Alden had to admit that he was surprised the blade was still sharp. Pity he hadn’t taken this good care of himself.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” His fear gave to terror as the reality of the situation set in. “I don’t know where he is, no one does! Get that away from me, it hurts.” He swatted at the blade, but quickly dropped his hand back to the ground for support; one arm wasn’t able to hold up all his weight.

“Tell me what I want to know and this will all be over,” Alden responded.

“All I know is that he’s been shipping massive amounts of weapons from the colonies in exchange for computers, circuits, wiring, and raw metals. In limited quantities, he could manufacture all of that stuff on his own, but to meet the size of his demands I’ve been forced to pull resources from every nation and source I can find. Whatever he’s building up there…it’s massive!”

“How do you move the resources back and forth?”

“I work through a middle man—one of those lunar nuts, if you catch my drift.” He attempted to smile.

“Stop wasting my time! How do I find him?”

“His real name is Thereon.”

Feeling a sense of pity, like watching a fly caught in a web, Alden removed the blade from Harkonnen’s neck. With the most even temperament he could muster, Alden said, “Why are you helping him? He’s a butcher.”

The man shrugged as well as he could. “Have to make a living, you know. Plus the arrangement keeps me protected.” He was struggling to reach the source of the cut and stem the flow of blood down his neck.

“You’re not even worth killing,” Alden uttered. “Tell me how to find Thereon.”

He was struggling to catch his breath and sweat was rolling down his brow. “You can probably find him at the Green Dragon pub in Apollo City, on the market level.”

“Thanks.” Alden chucked the sword into one of the walls as he walked out. He grabbed two sub-machine guns off the floor and slung them over his shoulder. Emerging into the now-deserted club, Alden grabbed on to the railing and flung himself over the top. He sailed to the ground and landed with a thud on the dance floor. The lasers, fog and strobes still covered the room, but that was it.

The remaining guards had fled along with the dancers. Even the bartender had disappeared. A quick scan of the room showed no other exits so he made his way back to the entrance. He’d need to find transportation up to the lunar surface. Bursting through the exit, he was instantly bathed in the glare of a giant spotlight. Alden had been relying heavily on his ability to see in the dark and now he was completely blind. It took a moment for the filaments in his eyes to adjust to the light. He was now able to see dozens of police cars and several Special Forces vans. They formed a half-circle around the club exit. Hundreds of red dots fluttered around his body.

“THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS.” The announcement came over the loud speaker. “IF YOU DO NOT SURRENDER WE WILL OPEN FIRE.”

Alden was about to duck back into the club when the spotlight went dark in a shower of glass and sparks. Several bombs detonated amongst the cars and officers. Alden did a quick roll to the side of the area flinging the sub-machine guns in front of him with the same motion. Gunfire erupted in every direction.

He ducked behind one of the cars as the Special Forces fired in his direction. Sticking a gun up over the hood, he squeezed the trigger, spraying the squad cars and windshields in a hail of bullets. The officers dove in all directions. He jumped to his feet and sprinted around the side of the club.

He was in a narrow alleyway. At the end, a metal ladder traversed the side of the four-story building. Alden moved toward it only to be blinded by a small light a few yards in front of him. It looked like a motorcycle. As expected, an engine roared to life. The machine flew toward him. His instinct was to shoot, but something inside pressed him to wait. He stepped to the side just in case. The motorbike slowed to a stop beside him. The rider was clad in black leather. “Jump on.” It said in a computerized voice.

In the distance soldiers could be heard preparing to assault the alleyway. “How can I trust you?”