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Authors: Bill Denise

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Shrigauri continued, “They’re afraid of me, of course. Not
so much of me personally, but they are afraid of what I represent. What is that,
you ask?”
Damon hadn't asked.
“I represent the power of the people to rise up against the
unfair control exerted over our lives by the rich and powerful. I don't just
mean any old rich and powerful, oh no, I mean the super-rich: the original
dynasty families. I mean Yeboah, Kline, Debar, and Doering; our so-called
founders. I call them our founding exploiters! Oh I know what you're thinking,
some of those families don't even exist anymore, but you'd be wrong.”
Damon wasn't thinking anything of the sort, he didn't even
know what this madman was ranting about.
“They exist all right. They may have changed their names, but
they still exist. They are still out there collecting all the money to
themselves. How, you ask?”
He hadn't asked.
“They take it from everyone else!” Shrigauri Krych stopped
his ranting and was breathing hard from his exertion.
Damon barely noticed that he had stopped talking because he
was concentrating on one number in his vision.
“. . . 8% . . .”
He calculated that he needed at least ten percent to make
his move. Of course, escape after that might need more power, too, so he
revised his number to be fifteen percent, and he resolved to avoid
confrontation on the way out. Krych was talking to him again.
“Well?” he was saying in Damon's face.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” which was true,
since he hadn't been listening.
“I asked: why do you align yourself with the super-rich?
They are never going to give you any of it. I'm going to guess that you come
from the streets. I bet your family was poor and you had to work two or three
jobs to make ends meet, am I right?”
“Not completely,” Damon said.
“AH HA!” Krych said loud enough to make Damon flinch. “I
knew it! They are taking street gang kids and forcing them to do their dirty
work.” Shrigauri was smiling and nodding to himself. He looked around the room
in triumph, and the other men nodded in agreement.
“So why? You haven't answered my question.” He was looking
back at Damon now.
“Because they pay me a lot?” Damon said, unable to think of
a more clever and sarcastic answer.
“You don't know what you're saying. I won't go into all the
details, but the only way the rich keep getting richer is if the middle and
lower classes are pushed down farther and farther into the muck. Now what if
people like us don't want to go farther down? What then? I'll tell you, if we
don't want to be crushed, we fight back. We claw our way back up and cut the
head off the monster, we take out the super-rich and redistribute the wealth. I
know what you're thinking,”
No you don't
, Damon countered mentally.
“That's socialism. Well it's not, all we want is to make
things legal and fair, that's all, it's not that we live off their money, but
the money gets earned by a bigger group.”
“The real problem lies in the fact that the people have no
HOPE. They can’t see any time in the future when things might get better, or
even change at all! The
Kyndra-cursed
Council effectively shuts down all
innovation and research in order to preserve their monopoly on technology. If
nothing new is ever invented, then they will be in power forever. Or so they
think. The more they try to squeeze us into their control, the more people are
itching to break free.”
Shrigauri Krych moved closer and leaned in toward Damon
before saying, “You realize, don't you, that you’re killing your own kind? By
following their orders and hitting the targets they give you, you are killing
your own
family
.”
Damon flinched back at the word, and Krych pounced on his
reaction.
“That's right, Demon, you're working for the bad guys. You’re
killing the other downtrodden street folks, the ones just like you. Imagine
instead that you are killing your own people. Imagine those you killed tonight—many
of them my
friends
—imagine they were your own gang-mates out there that
you slaughtered.”
Damon's head swam for a minute as the image forced itself
into his head. He saw the soldiers he had slaughtered, but in his mind instead
of having unrecognizable faces, he saw Yaz, Jeremy, Michael, and finally Andrea
falling under his attack. Damon lost track of everything else while fighting
off the implication.
“That's right, Demon, you're a pawn, being used like a tool
to kill off your own kind.”
“No,” Damon said without force, the images still swirling in
his head.
I'm not killing my own, I'm killing dangerous lunatics like you
that want to bring the Consensus down in chaos. You don't want to save the
Consensus, you want to kill it and feed on the corpse!
“. . . 14%...”
“Close enough.” Damon said out loud while three things
happened simultaneously.
First, he rolled forward far enough so his hands were
pointed at the floor. Second, while still in motion, he fired laser cutters and
blasters directly into the floor making a large hole that went through a few levels
below him. Third, just before falling into the hole, he popped two grenades
into the room with Shrigauri and his men, set for 1 second delay.
Unable to react quickly enough, the men died as the whole
area was obliterated in the powerful explosions. Fires broke out everywhere as
Damon fell through multiple floors, either through the holes he had cut or by
the weight of his falling body making its own holes. Finally, he hit concrete
and stopped falling. Straining with his strength boosted to max, he was able to
break the bands, but it was scary how effective they were in holding him back.
A
few more layers and I might still be stuck, waiting for them to come pick me up
again.
“. . . 3% . . .”
He sent out a powerful active scan to map the area quickly
and plot his escape route. He saved the map and had it display in three-dimensional
first-person view overlaid on his enhanced vision in order to guide him to
safety. He turned off all active sensors and switched all weaponry off except
for the slug guns and ECBs.
Following the map he met with minimal resistance which he easily
dispatched with the kinetic weapons, using little or no power. Once he felt
that he was in the clear, he contacted Gregor again.
“Where have you been?” Gregor demanded immediately.
“Good to see you too, I'm fine, how are you?” Damon
responded.
“Very funny. What happened?”
“I ran into a little more trouble than I expected.”
“I can see that from the telemetry, and you can be sure I'm
going to review the mission records. Once I'm done, we will need to discuss any
questions and recommendations I have.”
“Yeah, right. I have a couple of
questions and
recommendations
for the design team too!” Damon angrily cut off radio
communication and proceeded to the rendezvous site.
I am not a tool.
He
told himself over and over.
I’m not killing my own! I need to follow my
orders, I remember what happens when I try to make my own decisions.
The
last face to linger in his mind’s eye was that of Melanie.
Chapter Six
 
Anger and frustration seethed around
the table as the Council completed their review of Damon's mission records.
They got to see everything that happened from his point of view, along with commands
he had given the armor and control system. Technically, the mission was a
success because Shrigauri Krych was dead, but otherwise it was a disaster.
Renard Trueblood spoke into the charged silence, “Well, that
was not what any of us expected. However, let us focus on the positive points
first, before we begin criticism.”
“That shouldn't take long,” Jonathan Kline said cynically.
“I'll say,” Stacey Magourik added.
“Please, let us be fair. This was the Demon's first mission,
and no one really knows the extent of his abilities.”
Why am I defending
him?
Renard wondered. “To state the obvious, Krych is dead; much of his
leadership is dead; many of his weapons have been destroyed. Any other good
points?”
Into the silence, Alexander Pryke snorted his derision. “You
people are missing the most obvious points. That idiot walked directly into the
teeth of the toughest rebel group out there and came back to talk about it.
Sure he got knocked around for being stupid, but he finished the job and proved
himself a bad-ass!”
“He caused a planet-wide uproar with his methods!” Stacey
nearly yelled, standing up and pressing her hands onto the table. “He may have
taken out the leadership, but he turned them into martyrs. He just increased
their recruitment by the thousands! Due to the evidence of such heavy
firepower, we can’t deny involvement, but on the other hand we can't admit to
sending in our new super-powered super-soldier assassin!”
The room descended into yelling and accusations. Renard put
his head into his hands, resting his elbows on the table. Alexander was simply
laughing.
“Renard, we need to shut down this project immediately,”
Jonathan said during a short lull in the discussion. The statement caused the
room to become quiet as each person contemplated the finality of their
decision. “The kid’s reckless and out of control. How can we trust him to be a
reasonable representative of the Council?”
The silence that followed was long, but eventually broken by
Alexander. “If the Council doesn’t want the Demon, let me have him. I’ll handle
his missions and take responsibility for his actions. I’m not afraid of public
opinion.”
“I second that,” Esme Burdekin replied.
“Now wait just a minute,” Renard spoke quickly. “We cannot give
such a powerful weapon to one dynasty. It would cause a huge imbalance among
us.” He hoped his fear didn't show too obviously.
“I believe we have a motion and a second, Mr. Chairman,”
Alexander said “and I call for a vote.”
“Seconded,” Esme said again.
“I hardly think this is appropriate,” Renard said.
“You really have no choice,” Stacey replied quietly.
Renard stewed for a moment, his thoughts racing. He had no
intention of giving Demon to the Prykes, but he could not avoid the formality
of a vote.
Ideas and half-formed plans spun though his mind as he tried
to find the best way out of this situation. He looked at Jeffrey across the
room, who was busy tapping away on his screen. Renard realized that Jeffrey was
taking precautions right now to protect against the transfer, no matter how the
vote proceeded.
“Fine, all those in favor of turning the Demon project over
to the Pryke dynasty?” Only Alexander and Esme raised their hands.
“The Nays take it,” Renard said with disdain. “Now can we
continue with legitimate business? I will discuss the Council's concerns about
the Demon with Dr. Baksa.”
 
**** ****
 
Damon sat in the cheap hotel room
where he was instructed to await further instructions. Gregor had been silent
for hours, and Damon was forced to occupy his time watching old movies on a
horrible wall-mounted screen.
He couldn’t stop thinking about everything that Shrigauri Krych
said in his long-winded speech—at least those things he understood. The
statements about being a pawn to the Council and killing his own people really
cut him deep, and he couldn’t shake the guilty feelings. Wrapped in his
thoughts, it took him a few minutes to realize a new icon blinking in the
corner of his HUD. Curious, he opened it and found a message from Joann. The
thought of hearing her voice made him feel better.
The message was not what he expected. There was no voice,
just cryptic instructions to contact her using a secret untraceable code.
Is
she playing some kind of game with me?
he wondered, although that didn’t
really make any sense. After a few minutes of debate with himself he decided to
give it a try. The note said that he should not use his built in comm system,
since he was being tracked by the Demon project team. He thought about using it
anyway, since he didn’t really take the whole thing seriously, but finally he
decided to do as she requested.
“Fine,” he said to himself as he reached for the
complimentary screen on the nightstand. He followed her instructions and soon
was watching a small red blinking light next to the word “connecting.” Finally,
when he was about to give up the light turned green and stopped blinking. A
black box popped up on the screen announcing that no video was available, only
audio and he banished the message with a wave of his hand.
“Damon!”
Her voice sounded a little strange over the connection, but
it was definitely her.
“What are you doing—” he started to ask, but she cut him
off.
“We don’t have much time on this connection and it’s a
one-time use only. I’m sending you another code, but we have to use them
wisely—I don’t have many left. Please just listen for now and trust. The team
is gone. They have all disappeared, but I got out of there just in time. I’m
going to see some friends, and I’ll contact you again when I know more.”
“Joann, I don’t understand, what’s going on?”
“I don’t really know, but I’m trying to find out. You need
to be careful, your entire system is insecure. They monitor it and control it.
Don’t use the comm system for anything important. We need to learn more about
the system and how it works. I’ll try to get someone who can help. I’ll be in
contact again.” She paused for a second, “Thirty seconds left on this code, do
you have any questions?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “Who
am
I working for?”
“Good question. On the surface it’s the Council, but their
motives are varied and certainly not philanthropic. It looks like anyone
involved with you or this project tends to disappear. Gotta go, talk to you
again soon.”
The connection cut out and Damon felt worse than he did
before.
If everyone associated with me and this project is in danger, did I
jeopardize the Family’s safety?
Worry began to eat away at him, but there
was nothing he could do right now but wait.
I’m going to need that help she mentioned,
Damon
thought,
I don’t know what I’m doing here.
Shortly thereafter, he received a call from Gregor. The
feedback regarding his mission was not good, and apparently the destruction
from his attack was being covered on the local news. The Council was very
unhappy, and they wanted to express their dissatisfaction with his overall
performance. Damon took most of the criticism in stride, but after a few
minutes decided he needed to defend himself.
“What about the lousy power generation?” he asked when he
got the chance to interject. “If I’d had a decent amount of power I could have
finished that mission much quicker.”
“If you hadn’t walked in there like an idiot daring them to
attack you with all their heavy weapons, you would have been fine.”
Damon didn’t reply; Gregor was right, and he already knew it.
He knew it as soon as he left the scene that night.
After a long pause, Gregor spoke again, “Look, I know it’s
hard, I really just want to help, but you’ve got to be smarter about this whole
situation. Now you know that you’re not invincible, and you’ve learned some
tough lessons on power management. Also, now we both know that you need to be stealthier,
which I understand is something you were good at before you came here.”
Damon nodded, then realized Gregor couldn’t see him and
said, “Yes, that’s true, I know how to be stealthy. The armor and the weapons
give a false sense of security. In fact, when I was growing up, we weren’t
allowed to use armor or weapons until we were considered veterans. My trainer
always warned us about the dangers of relying on them too much because they can
make you sloppy and careless. And that’s exactly what I did.”
Gregor finished, “all right, we’ve been through it enough
times. Move on, get to your flight out of there, head to the safe house, and
enjoy a few weeks of rest. I’ll contact you with your next mission,” and he cut
the connection.
Damon heard Andrea’s voice speaking the words that he said
to Gregor almost verbatim, and tears came to his eyes. He was lonely, tired,
and despite his armor and all his weapons, he felt like a scared little kid.
After sitting for a few minutes in self-pity, he took a deep
breath, and tried to put it behind him. Then a thought occurred to him. He had
a suspicion about Shrigauri Krych that he really wanted to pursue. With a
little luck, he might be able to find better transportation than the public
flight.
He sat back down on the bed and fired up his comm unit with
all of its military-grade Decrypto software and began digging through non-public
records. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for, and with a little
experimentation with his clearances and authorizations, he soon had what he
wanted.
He walked out of the hotel, signaled his account to pay the
bill and hailed a cab, which pulled up to the curb as he approached the loading
lane. Once inside, he directed it to take him to the yacht club on the other
side of the city. On the way he reviewed his research to see what else he could
learn.
When he arrived, he paid for the cab and casually approached
the gate at the entrance to the club. He showed his ID to the guard who checked
against his screen and let him in with a friendly greeting. Damon wandered
through the building, taking in the ambiance of the rich and famous. He had used
Shrigauri Krych’s membership at the club to get in, so apparently, Mr. Krych
was not quite the socialist he claimed to be.
He probably claimed he needed
the membership to gather funds and such for the cause. I can’t wait to see what
his ship looks like.
Sure enough when Damon arrived at the ship’s berth he
was shocked at the size and luxury that he found.
The ship was larger than Damon could have imagined, it
rivaled the commercial carriers he had seen. Instead of a utilitarian tube,
this ship was dominated by an oblong dome-shaped upper half on top of the more
conventional cylinder below. Every line and curve blended smoothly into the
others, giving the impression that it had been carved out of a single piece of
metal. Damon stood and gawked despite his intention not to.
Yacht club employees were making final preparations to the
ship and detaching a number of umbilical cords along with other preflight
checks. One of the men stood on the dock supervising the others. When he saw
Damon approaching, we walked over to greet him.
“Welcome, Mr. Baird, will Mr. Krych be joining us today?”
Damon had to smile at the man’s greeting, “No, I’m afraid he
will not. I believe he will be joining me later, but he’s asked me to move the
ship. I don’t ask, I only do what I’m told.”
“Oh of course, Mr Baird, I certainly understand that!”
Damon laughed. “Is she ready to go?”
“It will be only a minute, she’s all packed and ready per
your instructions, only a few final twice-overs to go!”
“May I go aboard?”
“Certainly, sir. Please await clearance from the tower to
power up and take off.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The man stepped to the side of the gangplank with his back
to the railing, stood stiffly and said “Mr. Baird, welcome aboard
The Abyss
.”
“Thank you,” Damon said again, nodding his head to the man
as he passed to go quickly up and into the ship.
The entryway was at the base of the dome-shaped upper half
of the ship. He stepped into a large common room and gasped.
It’s huge,
he
thought,
and luxurious!
He couldn’t resist bringing up his sensors to
measure the space. It was thirty feet wide at the center, fifty feet long, and
twenty feet high at its peak. One side of the room curved up and in gracefully,
following the dome shape of the ship. A vertical wall on the other side split the
dome in two. There were couches and chairs throughout, arranged in neat
conversation circles. He knew from his research that they could all be moved or
removed as needed, and neatly stowed in the floor compartments. Powerful
magnets would hold them in place in case of artificial gravity failure.
He connected his control system to the ship’s central core
and was immediately granted Guest status.
“That just won’t do,” he said out loud while releasing his
Decrypto into the ship and letting it loose to do whatever it felt necessary to
gain control.
Satisfied that the software would get everything in order,
he began a physical tour of the ship. He could have reviewed it all in his HUD,
but it was more fun and much more interesting to see it with his own eyes.
On the other side of the vertical wall was an observation
deck only slightly smaller than the common room. The deck below housed three
large cabins and four smaller ones. Farther below the cabins, in the
cylinder-shaped section, could be found the ‘business’ parts of the ship: instrumentation,
propulsion, fuel tanks, storage, and such.

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