Debris of Shadows Book I: The Lies of the Sage Page 5

The violet and indigo hues of the shield wall swirled in a fractal pattern, like oil shimmering on water. Every few seconds, a white spiderweb of lightning crackled across its surface. Chi stumbled towards it, his head throbbing. It felt as if any moment his skull was going to split.

  “I can make out the pattern of the breach, sir,” said 0194. He squinted, concentrating. The other three stepped close to him. Chi could feel their minds joining. “Got it. Synchronize your optic nerves with mine.”

  They focused on a spot of the wall 0.327 meters above the sand. Just through the flickering of the breach, Chi could make out writhing shapes that squirmed and clambered over one another. They were insects, armored in metallic exoskeletons that glistened in the light of the shield. There were thousands of them, perhaps tens of thousands.

  “Our friends have made it from the west,” he said. He drew his pistol. “How many can come with me?”

  “I can manage the shield myself,” 0194 said. “5002, 3554, and 1029 will provide cover for you.” They primed their weapons.

  “Set the pistols to a wide energy spread,” Chi said. 0194 handed him his pistol, and a pack of explosive charges. “Ten minutes.”

  0194 nodded. He held his palms to the flickering area of the shield. “Emitting cancelling wave,” he said. His fingertips shone with sapphire light. The pulse in the wall slowed until the flashes were five seconds apart.

  The insects surged forward, chattering and ticking as if their bodies were made of clockwork. 5002 blasted them with his pistol. The explosion scattered their bodies in a 4.731–meter radius. “Sir,” he said, “this is an intense drain on the weapons. We won’t be able to keep it up.”

  “All right,” Chi said. “Quickly, then.” He counted to five, and squirmed through the breach on his stomach. He heard the shield snap back into life centimeters behind his boots. He pulled himself to his feet, brandishing his pistol. The insectile machines held back, apprehensive. A few seconds later the breach parted again, and 5002 crawled into position beside him. They waited in silence for the other two Cylebs to follow.

  The three third–generations positioned themselves in a protective triangle around Chi. 5002 held his pistol at the ready. “Sir?” he asked.

  Chi relaxed his mind. Something hooked into it with sharp, insubstantial fingers, and tugged. “West,” he said, sweat trickling down his face. “That cave, there.”

  The quartet moved towards the cavern with slow, careful steps. The metallic insects crept closer. “How long before they try again?” 5002 asked.

  As if on cue, the swarm surged forward. 1029 fired his weapon. A wall of creatures flew into the sky.

  The Cylebs moved quicker now, edging toward the mouth of the cave. It seethed with insects. 3554 took his turn, firing inside. The resulting explosion broke the dam. The tiny monsters flew from the opening in a river of enraged, chattering metal. The Cylebs waited, adrenaline pumping through their veins as the armored creatures poured forth.

  “How many shots do we have left?” asked Chi.

  5002 checked his weapon. “Seven, maybe eight if we combine cells.”

  The torrent slowed to a trickle. The creatures gave them a meter’s berth on each side. “Let’s try it,” he said. They moved closer. The insects still making their way out stopped their exodus, as if uncertain. Finally, making a decision with a gestalt mind, they retreated.

  The air inside the cave was ten degrees cooler. 5002 ignited a flare, and threw it. It landed 9.045 meters from them, throwing shadows along the walls.

  The remaining insects retreated to the far corners of the cavern. Chi felt the invisible fingers clawing at his brain grow stronger. He let them pull him, and his squad followed. Every step felt as if he wore boots of iron. Father, he thought, I can’t take much more of this.

  The icy knife stabbed at the back of his mind again. He pushed his hands to his eyes, as if he could squeeze the pain away. “Here,” he said.

  He examined the ground. Shining rock clumped together in blackened pools, as if it had boiled up from the earth and solidified. Chi knelt, and touched it. Something twisted his stomach. “Lava,” he said. “They sealed him alive, in lava.”

  He tapped a sequence into each of the charges. “We’ll have thirty seconds,” he said. He recalibrated his pistol to emit a concentrated beam, and fired into the igneous rock. Putrid smoke erupted from the ground as he held the trigger. The weapon became red–hot, and seared his palm through his glove. It beeped in quick succession, and sputtered out.

  “Dead,” Chi said, tossing it aside. He pressed a button on each of the charges, and dropped them into the hole. “Let’s go.”

  5002 fired at the mouth of the cave, sending the insects gathering there flying. The Cylebs ran, keeping their small formation tight. Chi lost track of the count. “Don’t get down,” he said once they were outside, seeing the wall of insects before them. “Remain—”

  The ground shook with the sound of dull thunder. 5002 fell to his knees. Within a second, the swarm enveloped him. Chi whipped out 0194’s pistol, and fired at the seething mass, but it was too late. The insects dove from their meal, leaving only a few splintered bone fragments and a ruddy smear behind. Chi shuddered as his brother’s mind disappeared from the song.

  The tremors subsided. He looked into the cave. The creatures there still kept their distance. “Double time,” he said. His two remaining squad members flanked him as they ran back inside.

  Thick clouds of dust choked the air. Chi could not see anything; the flare had gone out in the blast. 1029 lit a second one. Its glare illuminated the cavern for a mere two meters before being swallowed by the darkness.

  The black rock had split open, revealing a fissure. Chi kicked a pebble into it. It hit the bottom 0.7438 seconds later. “2.711 meters,” he said. “I hope it’s enough. Throw a flare down there.”

  1029 complied. Chi slid forward on his belly. “Keep the little bastards away,” he said, and dangled his legs over the edge. He took a deep breath, and dropped.

  Almost a second later, his feet smashed into the bottom. He tried to roll, but did not have the room. He lay there, unable to stand.

  I’m here, he thought. I’m here.

  A few torturous seconds passed. Close…

  Chi checked 0194’s pistol. It held a tiny charge, only a few shots. Where? he thought.

  The hooks in his brain tugged him downward, and eleven degrees to his left. He set the weapon to a thin beam, and carved. He heard the blast of a pistol firing. A flash of light from above illuminated the crevice walls for a brief second. His weapon chirped, and powered down. He had cleared another half–meter.

  Look down.

  Chi obeyed. He could make out the top halves of three charred, skeletal fingers poking from the rock. He ripped his glove off, and touched them. An electric shock shot up his arm. He jolted his hand away, biting back a scream. It had withered and crumpled, as if made of paper.

  A few seconds passed. I am so weak, my son, the voice whispered in his mind.

  Chi removed his helmet. He took his first breath of unfiltered air in almost a year. It’s clean on this side, he thought.

  “Please,” he said, “save us all,” and placed his face in his father’s hand.

  0194 watched the flickering shield wall. Chi had said the mission would only take ten minutes. Twenty–seven minutes and thirty–two seconds had passed. He could not hear his brothers’ harmonies through the wall, but he did feel the presence that had drawn them there. His orders were to leave before the Regular Army came looking for them, but he felt compelled to wait for the others to return. And if they did not? Could he return empty–handed, and tell his brothers that it had all been for nothing? Without orders, he was not sure.

  An orange glow in the shape of a man approached from behind the shield. With a flush of relief, 0194 reached his hands out, and slowed the flickering. A man crawled through. He wore Chi’s bio–suit and helmet.

  He rose to his feet, his face grimacing as he moved
his atrophied muscles by force of will. The flesh of his face was contorted, as if hooks inside had lashed his cheeks to his ears. He grinned with brown, broken teeth. Through the faceplate in Chi’s helmet, 0194 could see that the man’s skin glowed with a dull, amber hue. He stared at 0194 with milky eyes the color of tallow. The Cyleb met his gaze, his heart pounding.

  “Grandfather?” he asked. The glowing figure nodded almost imperceptibly, his neck cracking. “Where are my brothers?”

  “Their songs have been added to mine,” the man said in a voice dry and harsh. “It was necessary.”

  0194 pursed his lips together. “It had been anticipated,” he said.

  Trust me, the man sent, I wish there could have been some other way. My life… He stared at the moon, then back again. Is my life worth that of our brothers?

  0194 nodded. Yes, he replied, yes, Grandfather.

  General, the man corrected. The word felt like an icicle. “And you are wrong,” he said aloud. “We are all equally important; we are all part of the song. What I do, I do for us all. Compose yourself, Brother.”

  “Yes, General Jaeger,” 0194 said. He felt his face grow warm. He snapped to attention. “We have transportation ready, sir, but time is pressed.”

  “Agreed,” said Jaeger, placing his gloved hand on the younger Cyleb’s shoulder. “Believe me, Brother, I have missed the song of my family more than you can ever imagine.”

  Alyanna’s car shot across the Hudson River, and into Manhattan. The city pierced the night with the spires of ancient towers, its skyline peppered with brick, plastic, marble, and steel. Below, most of the vehicles she could see were the bright yellow mechanical transports of the Cylebs. They wove in and out of apartment blocks. Lumbering cargo tugs the size of houses hovered in their wake.

  “What are they doing down there, in the middle of the night?” she asked. Benjamin peered down through black, reflective glasses. His wrinkled mouth frowned.

  “Taking out the dead or the dying,” he said. “Humanity is being whittled away, shaving by shaving.”

  She pressed her forehead against the glass. “What about the Cylebs?”

  “Hmmm?” he turned his attention back to her. “None of them ever had a natural immunity. And even if they did, the virus seems to burn right through their cybernetics. It ravages their brains within minutes. Besides, the current generation is all clones. I suspect many of them are dying as well.”

  “What about the next generation?”

  He snorted, and turned away. “They’ll find a way around it, theirs, or the generation after that. I’m very happy that you’re immune, hon, but I’m afraid you’ll eventually find yourself in the minority.”

  Alyanna leaned over, putting her arm around her father. “I’m losing Matthew, I lost Carmine,” she said. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you.” He looked at her, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He took her hand, and kissed it.

  She watched the streets. The traffic was a quarter of what it had been the last time she had come here, almost two years ago. The car merged behind a public caravan. She could see through its rear window. Barely anyone was inside. “Dad,” she said, “how long does Matthew have?”

  He shrugged. “If he’s as bad as me, I’d say two weeks. I’m sorry.”

  The car veered off, and landed in the hospital parking lot. They stepped out, Alyanna slamming the black door behind her. “Come on,” she said, and strode towards the entrance.

  “Stop,” he said, putting a sweating hand on her arm. She could feel its heat through her sleeve. “What do you notice?”

  She looked around. “The parking lot’s empty.”

  “Mmm,” he replied. “No one’s visiting the sick and the dying. No friends, no family.”

  They entered the hospital. Alyanna gasped. Sealed tubes stacked upon one another lined the hallways, and even the waiting area. Silhouettes were visible through their smoky glass, a screen listing their vital statistics on the side. The displays either showed red numbers, or flashed white zeros. Short, squat mechanoids rolled amidst the stacks, picking the flashing ones out, and dragging them off.

  Benjamin strode to the desk, while Alyanna took in the thousands of eggshell sarcophagi. Her stomach started to spin. This is where they were keeping her son. This is where he would spend his final hours, all alone in a tiny, claustrophobic bubble. She slapped her palm against the closest one. The tiny silhouette inside shook. She slapped it again, harder. Feverish hands grabbed her arms. She tried to shake them off, but they held fast.

  “Hon,” her father said, “you won’t help Matthew this way. All you’re doing is scaring some little girl on the brink of death. Now stop it.”

  She glared at him. Benjamin let go, and stepped back.

  “Sir, madam, this is a quarantine hospital. I am afraid you will have to leave.”

  A Cyleb walked towards them with careful steps, staring at them from his protective helmet. His patch bore the blue insignia of the caduceus above the number 0800.

  “Where’s my son?” Alyanna asked.

  The Cyleb regarded her, a look of pity on his blanched, veined face. “What is his name?” he asked.

  “Matthew Galbraith.”

  0800 started at the name. “Then you are…” He focused on Benjamin, as if seeing him for the first time. He snapped to attention. His jaw tightened. “Doctor Dvorkin, sir.”

  “As you were,” said Benjamin. “Please take my daughter to see her son.” He coughed. “And I’d advise you to be discreet.”

  “Yes, yes, sir,” the Cyleb said. Benjamin gazed at him through his sunglasses, his face expressionless. 0800’s mouth worked, as if talking to himself. “This way,” he said.

  They walked down the hallway, amidst the stacks of the sick and dying. They made a left, then a right down another corridor. “Hold on,” Alyanna said. “How do you know exactly where my son is in all this mess?” The Cyleb shot Benjamin a look, but did not reply. “Well?” She turned to her father. “Why doesn’t he answer me?”

  “Be quiet, Alyanna,” he said, as they came to a room at the end of the hallway. “Here we are.”

  Alyanna peered through the frosted glass of the door. She could make out three figures standing inside. “What are they doing in there?” she asked. But 0800 had closed his eyes. He hummed to himself. The veins lacing his skull throbbed with a slow, gentle pulse. She turned back to the window, and saw the shadows exit through another door.

  “No,” she said. “Don’t send them away. What were they doing to Matthew?” 0800 did not respond. She pulled at the door handle, but it remained locked. The Cyleb closed his eyes again, and the door clicked open. Alyanna rushed inside.

  Matthew lay on a bed, his tiny figure lost amidst the white sheets. There were stains around him where his sweat had soaked the linen. IVs, electrodes, and wires snaked from his wasted body to a machine that whirred and pumped. Benjamin strode over to it, and checked its readings, tsking under his breath.

  Alyanna threw her arms around her son’s scrawny frame. She sobbed, clutching him to her chest. His feverish heat stung her. He made a few noises, like clicking groans from the back of his throat, but his eyes did not open. She rocked him back and forth. “Please,” she said, “don’t let him die.”

  “Perhaps if you’d brought him to us when he started showing symptoms, we might have been able to do something for him.” Alyanna lifted her head. Sigma stood in front of her, glaring from her protective suit. 0800 stood behind her. “Now he has maybe three days at best. It’s all we can do to make him comfortable.”

  “There’s no need to be vindictive, Sigma,” Benjamin said. “You never could have helped him.”

  The Cyleb’s brown and golden, glowing irises spun around her pupils as her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Excuse me,” she asked, “do I know you?”

  “Don’t be cute,” said Benjamin. “You know who I am.”

  “Ma’am,” 0800 said. “This is Doctor Dvorkin.”

  “Is it real
ly?” Sigma asked, as if talking to a child. She gave Benjamin a wink, and grabbed Alyanna by the elbow. “0800, what are these civilians doing in here? Get them out.”

  “Like hell,” Alyanna said. “He’s coming with us.”

  “These people have no authority,” said Sigma. “Get rid of them, now.” She turned her back on them, and strode towards the door.

  “Sigma, I’m ordering you,” Benjamin said, his voice thick, but hard. “Release my grandson into my custody.”

  The Cyleb stopped, “Your grandson,” she said. She barked out a laugh. “Your grandson. Yes, sir, right away. The problem is, I don’t know if you’re really Benjamin Dvorkin or not.” She turned towards him. “I’d have to do a retinal scan. I could do it quite easily, you know. Just remove your glasses so I may see.” Benjamin’s mouth tightened, but he remained silent. “No?” Sigma asked. “Then there’s nothing I can do for you. 0800, get these civilians out of here, now. I’m shocked I have to tell you twice.”

  Alyanna laid her son’s feverish head on his pillow, and stood. “Take them off,” she said.

  “No.”

  “What?” She stared at him. “Take them off.” Benjamin said nothing. He just looked at Matthew, his head low. “Take them off now,” she said, reaching for his glasses. Quicker than she would have believed, he grabbed her hand, and spun her around so that she faced away from him.

  He held her for a few seconds, and then let go. “Use your time to say goodbye,” he said, his voice heavy. “I’ll wait outside.”

  Sigma said nothing, a tiny smile curling her lips as the doctor exited. Alyanna flung her arms around Matthew, kissing his face until 0800 pulled her away. She struggled uselessly in his silvery arms, screaming obscenities. Once he had dragged her back to the parking lot, the Cyleb released her.

  “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Galbraith,” he said. He met her eyes for a few seconds, and then returned inside.

  Her father was leaning against her car. Alyanna rushed to him, her heels scuffing the pavement. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “Why didn’t you let her scan you?”