Element Zero (27 page)

Nico Wachalowski—Heinlein Industries’ Perimeter

Snow streaked past the window of the monorail car as it bulleted toward Heinlein’s main campus. Off in the distance, the last of the UTTC had crumbled into the angry glow lighting up the skyline. If they’d destroyed the transmitter like they’d wanted to, it might have been avoided.

My hands shook, and I felt sweat roll down the back of my neck in spite of the cold. The sickness was getting worse. I stared at the glow in the distance until it blurred, then closed my eyes.

Death tolls and damage assessments were all queuing up behind the block I’d put down. Carriers were being spotted closer and closer to the city limits. Time was running out. This had to work.

Wachalowski, pick up.
It was Alice.

Tell me you have good news,
I said.

Not exactly. Osterhagen’s team at Stillwell cracked the satellite. They took back control of the nukes just minutes ago.

And The Eye?

A superorbital EMP was standing by and has been launched. It won’t get a chance to fire again.

Then what’s the bad news?

The launch sequence was initiated on the nuclear satellite shortly after control was reestablished.

Alice, that doesn’t make sense. Who issued the code?

The only one that could have done it is Hans Vaggot, the engineer who retook control of the satellite in the first place.

Why would he do that? Is he alone in there?

Yes,
she said.
In fact, the security feeds inside the base show that as of a few minutes ago, Hans Vaggot inexplicably drew his weapon and shot to death the other engineers who were with him.

An image appeared in my HUD. Vaggot was seated at the control console with a bullet wound in one arm, the sleeve wet with blood. He stared at the screen intently, without expression.

He’s sealed himself into the room,
Alice said.
They’re attempting to gain entry now.

Alice, why would he do this? Why now?

She hesitated briefly.

We have reason to think that he might be under Ai’s direct control,
she said.

What?

There’s evidence that his actions are actually being forced.

Ai’s devoted all of her time and effort obsessing over this possibility so that she could stop it,
I said.
Why the hell would she—

I don’t know, Agent. But when our people tried to contact him remotely, they found someone already had control of him. Someone else is in his head, someone powerful enough to keep anyone else out. We’ve traced the connections back, and we believe they’re coming from Alto Do Mundo.

Damn it . . .

Destroy the satellite,
I said.
Before it can launch.

Destroying The Eye was one thing; it was essentially privately owned. This is the UAC defense grid; we could trigger some kind of all-out response.

Then destroy the tower itself.

The Eye was knocked out. We’ll never organize another strike large enough in time.

This doesn’t make any sense! Why would she . . .

Before I could finish, though, it hit me. I remembered what Van Offo had told me shortly before he died.

“Zoe will stop him. . . . You will kill Fawkes—that’s what they think—but Zoe will stop him. That’s what she believes.”

“I pity that girl. All she ever seems to see is death and destruction, with her at its center.”

Zoe,
I said.

What?

Alice, I think Zoe is behind this.

Why?

Because I think she believes, for whatever reason, that it might be the only thing she can do. To stop the spread. To stop Fawkes.

Look, even if there was anything to that, she’s in the Alto Do Mundo penthouse with Motoko Ai and the rest of the top brass. She doesn’t make a move that Ai doesn’t want her to. She’s powerful, but she’s not that powerful.

I rubbed my eyes. The truth was that Zoe was unstable. She was an extremely powerful, emotionally stunted, late-stage alcoholic, and she was a very mean drunk. If half the visions she described to me were true, then she lived her life in an almost schizophrenic state, and there was some part of her that hated the world she lived in. Part of her saw all those visions of destruction as inevitable.

Send a team in,
I said.
If you use the monorail, you can get a squad in there fast.

To do what?

To stop her.

She hesitated again, but again, not for long.

It will have to be Stillwell. We have a team nearby; we might be able to get them there in time. It has to be manned by our people. Anyone we’ve got up there will make mincemeat of them otherwise.

Understood. Just get someone up there.

Where are you now?

On the rail, approaching Heinlein.

A team is infiltrating Stillwell’s base to take out Vaggot, but we’re not going to be able to contain Fawkes’ ground forces much longer. After losing the UTTC and most of the Stillwell compound, the military is gearing up to come down hard on Heinlein and I’m not going to be able to stop them. An airstrike will be ordered just in front of them to knock out that transmitter and cut Fawkes off from his forces. You’ll be about ten minutes ahead of them. There will be a vehicle waiting for you at the platform. It’s the best I can do.

Understood.

Kill Fawkes. Get control of that transmitter back. Our best bet might end up being a good reason not to launch in the first place. Got it?

I got it.

Last chance—anything else?

Snow whipped by the window as wind whistled on the other side.

Yeah, one thing,
I said.

Go ahead.

Can you direct a metro car to the city limits? Could you get someone through the blockade?

Why?

I’d like to get someone out of the city. It would be a favor.

Flax?

Yes.
There were a bunch of reasons why she’d say no, but in the end, she surprised me.

I’ll see what I can do,
she said.
Good luck, Agent.
She cut the connection.

The black disc of Heinlein’s tarmac loomed as the rail car glided closer.

Calliope Flax—Underground Metro

I came to on the tail end of a bad dream.

In it, I was back at my place in Wilamil Court, where I shoved open the door, then kicked it shut behind me. I’d scored some Zombie Makers from Al back at the Porco Rojo. The old man, Buckster, would be by later, and he had some kind of intel Nico wanted. I figured I’d loosen his tongue a little.

Two steps in, I stopped short. Some scrawny, spooky chick was parked in front of the TV. She had a cartoon on with the sound down low.

“Who the fuck are you?”
I asked. She looked up over her shoulder at me.

“I didn’t think you were ever coming back,”
she said.
“Where the hell did you go?”

My dead hand ticked like crazy and I was in no mood for bullshit. I clomped across the floor toward her, my other fist clenched.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

She rolled her eyes, and I lost it. I took one more step and got ready to plant the toe of my boot in her ass when her eyes changed.

She had blue eyes; I remembered that. She stared up from under a wool cap, and the blue parts turned black. When that happened, I got dizzy. I slowed down and stopped a foot away from her.

“That’s just your answer to everything, isn’t it?”
she asked. She got up. I heard more people in the next room and a jingle, like metal. It came from behind the flag I’d hung on one wall. It was the flag I’d used to carry that girl out of Juba.

The spooky chick followed my eyes and looked back at it.

“Yeah, sad story,”
she said.
“You could have washed the blood out anyway.”

“I don’t want to wash it.”

“Keeping it real, huh?”
she said.
“What’s the point? You didn’t save her; you just put off the inevitable.”

“I saved her life.”

“A single life doesn’t mean much.”

“Fuck you.”

The girl smirked.
“Can’t argue with that,”
she said. She yelled over her shoulder.
“You guys ready for her?”

“Yes.”

It was a guy’s voice. It came from the wall behind the flag.

“What the hell?”

She stared at me and stepped closer. The dizziness got worse. I felt drunk.

“How about you follow me into the next room?”
she asked. I felt myself nod.

“Sure.”

She stepped around the corner, across from the bathroom, and moved the flag out of the way. There was a door back there, behind it. I remembered I thought that was wrong. There was no door back there. I wouldn’t have put the flag up in front of a goddamned door. If I had an extra room, I’d use the damned thing.

The girl smirked again.

“Don’t worry,”
she said.
“There’s no door. This door isn’t here.”

There were a few padlocks on it, but they were all open. She turned the handle and pushed it open. When she did, it pushed a sheet of clear plastic out of the way in front of it.

“Inside,”
she said. I felt myself nod again.

My feet moved like they were on their own. I walked up to the door and when I got close, I saw a bunch of guys in white coats in there.

“In.”

My feet moved again. I stepped through the slit in the plastic, into a room I’d never seen. It didn’t make sense. I’d moved in and set the whole place up. I’d have known if there was a room there. . . .

The walls and floor were covered in clear plastic. There was a gurney in the middle with an IV rack next to it. There were three guys inside. They all wore white and had on face masks.

My eyes moved to a tray next to the gurney. There were scalpels lined up on it, and a needle. The spooky girl followed me in and walked up to the gurney. She patted it with one hand.

“Hop up,”
she said.
“Let’s get this party started.”

My eyes opened and I woke with a start. It was cold, and I was facedown on the hard ground. Off in the dark somewhere, a bottle skittered across concrete, then popped against a wall. My head throbbed.

Goddamn it . . .

I pushed myself up off the ground and saw a palmsized pool of blood around a squashed piece of gum. I wiped at my forehead and it came away red. My dead hand felt like it had pins and needles. At some point, someone put a coat over me. I let it hang off my shoulders.

1 message(s) outstanding.

The words floated over the stained concrete. I pulled the message and opened it. It was from Nico.

Cal, in case we don’t talk again, I want you to know I’m glad we met. Neither one of us is good at this kind of thing, but you mean a lot to me.

My head was still spinning, but a knot formed in my throat.

“You’re such a fucking sap,” I muttered. I kept reading.

I have your location, and I’m sending a metro car to pick you up. This is over, Cal. I don’t want you to get caught up in it. The car will take you to a platform across the river. I hope I’ll see you on the other side.

“Son of a bitch . . . ”

Back on the platform, people were huddled up. The revivors were gone, but they’d drawn some blood. One guy lay on his back, alone and not moving. The rest licked their wounds. One woman had a bite mark on her face, and a fat man had a scarf wrapped around his bloody hand. It looked like he might have lost a finger.

I heaved myself back up on my feet and took a second to let the head rush pass.

“You okay?” The voice echoed in the dark, and I turned to see a gray-haired man in the shadows nearby.

“Yeah,” I said. Something banged down in the tunnel. The old man pointed toward the sound, and I saw a nasty bite on his hand.

“They went that way,” he said. I nodded.

“This your coat?”

“You looked like you could use it,” he said. I shrugged it off and handed it back.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You with the military?”

“Kind of.”

I looked around and saw a couple bodies down next to the tracks. There were a few more on the platform where the concrete was splattered with blood. I didn’t see the kid.

“How long was I out?” I asked the old man.

“Not long. Few minutes.”

“The kid I was with,” I said. “Where’d she go?”

“She got dragged that way,” he said, pointing down the track. “I didn’t see. Things got pretty crazy.”

Down on the tracks a guy lay on his back, not breathing. I could see the black spots in his eyes, and blood was smeared around his mouth, which still hung open.

“This is fucked,” I said under my breath. Pain drilled into my head as I got back up on my feet. I didn’t get bitten, and I still had my gun, and my knife.

“Never seen ones like that before,” the old man said. I ran a check on my JZI and eased some painkiller into my bloodstream. A map of the tunnels was there, with the platform called out where the car would be waiting, and something else . . . orders for my squad—Singh, Ramirez, and the rest. I was still on the roster, it looked like. The ones that were left all got regrouped and sent to Alto Do Mundo on some kind of extraction mission.

“Thanks for the coat,” I said to the old man. I drew my gun and jumped down next to the track. “Watch yourself.”

I turned up the light filter so I could see where I was going and started down the track in the direction the old man had pointed. I stepped over a couple more bodies, both male. When the tunnel curved and the platform was out of sight back behind me, I layered a thermal filter over the night vision and saw a thin trail. Someone came down this way alive. My boot splashed into a puddle of cold, dirty water as I followed it.

It had gotten quiet. The sounds from the platform back down the tunnel echoed a little, and somewhere up ahead, in the dark, I could hear far-off movement. I scanned the tracks, but all I could see were bottles, a couple syringes, and an old sneaker next to a tipped-over shopping cart. The trail of heat was starting to spread out, specks scattered over the floor and the concrete wall next to me. Blood.

As I walked, I repositioned the subway map to show where I was. I packed up the feed from my Stillwell squad and got ready to shut it down when a name jumped out at me.

ZOE OTT

“What the fuck?” My voice echoed down the tunnel as I stopped short. I rechecked the orders, and I hadn’t read them wrong. My squad had been sent to Alto Do Mundo, up to the penthouse, to “incapacitate or kill Zoe Ott, along with anyone else who might be tied to the launch.”

“Too much,” I muttered. Singh was one of them, for fuck’s sake, and so were the rest. Were they turning on each other now?

It wasn’t my problem. I shut down the feed and looked around, picking up the heat signatures again. If Nico said go, it was time to go, but I wasn’t going alone. I had one more thing to do.

The blobs on the thermal scan got bright just around the corner, and I could see it spread all over. There were boot tracks going around and through it. In the middle, there was a small body.

“Kid?” My voice echoed down the tunnel.

I moved closer and stepped on something soft. When I looked down, I saw it was Vika’s coat. A few feet from that was a boot, then a torn shirt.

“Kid?”

The toe of my boot hit something, and I stumbled toward the body. It was still warm. I couldn’t tell if the heart was still beating or not. When I got close, I shut off the thermal display and opened the light filter until I could make out a face.

It was hers. Half of it anyway. The other half was chewed off.

“Kid?” I said, but she was dead. I could see she was dead. I shook her anyway and felt sticky blood under my palms. They’d stripped her down so they could get to the skin. The meat had been pulled away from one shoulder and arm so I could see the bone. The one eye she had left was stuck open in shock.

Vika’s body blurred in front of me, and I felt tears in my eyes. I slammed my fist against the cold ground next to her so hard I saw stars.

“Goddamn it!” I screamed, and my voice echoed down the tunnel.