An Obsidian Sky Part 8
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'Duh!' exclaimed Aeniah. She turned towards the others who were waited on her commands.
'Alright ladies,' she shouted. 'It seems that life has thrown us another little surprise. Because of the nature and extent of this journey we cannot take everyone with us. You will only slow us down. I am going to take a group of five heavily armed people with me. Sean and George are obviously included in that number.
'For the rest of you, you will be given arms and told to wait here. When we have got into the Xenith cla.s.s vessel I will pilot it over to these docks to come and pick you up.
'Now we tidied up the infected as we came in here. The docks are under quite an effective quarantine so you will be safe in here. If anyone begins to show the final signs of infection, sedate them before they cause any harm. Are there any questions?' A few people moaned, but non offered any further questions.
Sean floated down to Blue Dawn's eye level. 'Excuse me. I am aware that since Carvelle banned you from doing anything other than administrating Ascension, you cannot come with us. You will have been commanded not to.'
'Yes. Carvelle has issued me with a compliance order that has prevented me from being in anything other than the Centre for Administration, the Docks and the Science and Research Divisions. He felt that there should be some measure of restraint placed upon me from the outset. I am however interfaced into all of Ascension's systems although a separate AI monitors those sections. I can therefore give you little information as to the exact condition of those sections. They are however pressurised and heated but I do not know much more that.'
'What?' I said. 'You mean to tell me that you can only access those sections. How the h.e.l.l can you possibly be running Ascension?'
'George, George, George. Don't you see. I have access to Ascension's Centre for Administration and Ascension Central Command. There is nothing that I cannot do. I cannot go in those sections because Carvelle feared that I might want to execute a little bit of population control. You see I can manufacture as many avatars for myself as I like. It therefore made sense to limit the places where I could deploy my army-of-me.'
The point made a lot of sense. I realised that perhaps I still was not as intelligent as I thought I might have become. I tried to connect to the power-source out of curiosity but could not. I was puzzled and had to ask why. 'Dawn, why can't I access the power source anymore?'
'Ah,' she said, 'I was wondering when you were going to ask me that. Well, access to the Promethean Layer has always been a symbiotic relations.h.i.+p at best. Whilst you are able to hold the energy and use it by yourself you cannot hold enough of it to be useful. You see the Eye of Orion has been disconnected from its power source. Whilst it is still capable of broadcasting enough energy to corrupt minds it is not enough to cast or connect to. You are entirely dependent upon the grace of the angels for that one.'
'But I thought I was special, that I was able to hold the energy and cast it at the same time.'
'No, dear no,' Blue Dawn threw her head back and laughed. 'Not at all. It is because you can interact with the Promethean Layer that is important. You will be able to cast only when within range of a broadcasting system, such as the angels.'
Aeniah had grown impatient now. 'Well boo hoo. Look it really is lovely that everybody is getting along but we have a job to do. So let's get to it.' She moved closer to the nearby gaggle of her subordinates.
'Right then, I only want three of you, any larger party will not go unnoticed. If there is any intelligence left in the hordes they will try and get us in their own territory. Now are there any guardsmen among you?' To this there was no reply. It seemed that they must all have been killed.
'Alright then, Kolven, Harris and Abigail you're with us. The rest of you remain here and be vigilant. I expect each of you to be fighting fit when I get back here.' She looked over to us. 'Blue Dawn you will remain here and offer these people your protection. If anybody comes to any harm I will hold you personally responsible. And there are ways, my dear, of showing you just how how responsible I can make you.'
'George,' she shouted. 'Are you and Sean feeling up to this?' She paused but did not wait long enough for there to have been even the possibility of a response. 'Good! Well then check your suit's status and let's get this show on the road.'
Aeniah strode over to a random point in the middle of all of us. She used this moment to issue her war call. She motioned for us all to form up. We all ran at her command into a staggered line around her. We all switched on our night vision scopes or rifle mounted flashlights.
In amongst the green glimmer and off-white beams, Aeniah broadcast her voice loud and true. 'We have faced many evils and fought off great adversaries. In the process we have lost almost the entirety of our team. But in the face of adversity we have prevailed. Ladies and gentlemen, we might even be winning. This station marks one of the many times in which humanity has made a catastrophic error of judgment.
'Today,' she paused and said with humour, 'or more likely this week, we are going to put it right. Now for the love of G.o.d, I will have no panicking or going insane. There are too few of us for the luxuries of senility. So now when I give a command I expect you to follow it to the letter, and not go around carving each other up. Finally my ill.u.s.trious friends, move out!' I sighed. It seemed some things never changed.
12.
An Obsidian Sky We were travelling down a poorly lit concourse on the way to the Commercial District. Our journey from the docks had been a silent one, though it had been occasionally broken by Sean's exciting description of what we could expect to find upon arrival. He was busy humming now whilst floating childishly above us. I largely remembered what he had said. That it was truly a monument to capitalist success. That it was the second largest part of the station, beaten only by the Centre for Administration which, due to the top heavy nature of the United World, was supposed to be unsurprising.
The concourse had soon gone from empire-of-the-state to hegemony-of-the-commercial. Every few yards there were wall mounted screens each bearing a new video advert. The adverts activated as we pa.s.sed them and the sound coming from them had made us all jump the first couple of times. If I was honest, I jumped every time. Despite this I was gradually calming myself down and starting to pay attention to the advertis.e.m.e.nts around me. It was amazing how much you could learn about a civilisation through what it bought.
On the surface these adverts seemed to be run of the mill. There were adverts for fragrances, beauty and food. It was only once I paid a little more attention to the words that I realised the true nature of these adverts. They were a revolution in thinking. The first one that I really noticed was an advert for a fragrance. A beautiful, tanned and blonde woman was being filmed in a provocative manner from a rolling camera angle. But it was the words which were different. The narrator voiced in the background, 'Prepare for an evolution in scent,' her voice was deep and seductive. 'Be beautiful everyday.'
The voice that dripped like honey continued, 'get the new genetic fragrance from Ar'nesh. Available from your local medicare clinic.'
Another advert poised in a slightly less serious manner featured an overwhelmed looking man. A sympathetic narrator asked his dishevelled companion, 'are you over worked, overloaded, maxed out? Do you find it hard to get through the daily grind?' He paused long enough for his client to nod and the continued, 'well now, there is a solution. Ascension Working Innovations brings you a new level of reality. A condensed, fully augmented, Immersive Virtual connection. Literally see your data. Interface with your surroundings just by being there. The new Armarge Core transfers the data straight into your temporal lobes and uses your visual centres to show you the data you really need. Say goodbye to your touch-pad, embrace your future.'
At the next wall screen a more sinister advert played. Set in the forefront of a blue hallucinogenic background stood a grey haired man. Instantly it was obvious that he was a man of power. I recognised him from one of the visions.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, over the last few years I have been telling you about the dream of Ascension. It was just two years ago that we got a hold of that dream, that we embraced our infinite capacity for power. Now each and every one of you can touch the Promethean Layer, can hold a little part of the face of G.o.d. Our Infinite Longevity project has given each and every one of us the ability to live longer than we can even imagine.' He paused and breathed deeply.
'But now, ladies and gentlemen, our allocation of the Promethean Layer is running out. Today many of you live in fear of tomorrow. But I have brought you your salvation. In this hour I will give you the next stage in our genetic revolution. From now on you need never fear a loss in our services. You need never fear the loss of perfection.' He paused again creating a dramatic rise in tension.
'Today I give you The Eye of Orion. A device that allows unlimited access to the Promethean Layer. Tomorrow, as ever, I give you Ascension.' The screen faded to black. Text washed up onto the screen which stated 'embrace the genetic revolution.'
Aeniah growled like an animal each time one of the adverts played. It had been some time now and it still seemed as if she would not accept that these adverts were inevitably going to be played. As if she expected the next to be the last. But still the concourse arched onwards and still the adverts played.
'Sean,' she shouted. 'Is there any way of shutting these things down? If the citizens are waiting for us this is going to give away our position like an explosive charge.'
Sean paused his humming. 'Perhaps there is a way. The adverts are a peripheral function of Ascension's systems, they will not be heavily protected. There is a power distributer ahead. I would simply suggest removing the access panel and shooting it. This will power off only the screens as the lights are cla.s.sed as a critical system and so are heavily protected and multiply redundant.'
Aeniah practically ran at the distributer. She tore off the panel with inhuman strength borne out of anger. She raised her small pistol and a high pitch whine could be heard as it powered up some tremendous charge. She fired the pistol. The small distributer blew apart. The screens made a popping sound and turned off. The lights, true to Sean's prediction, remained on.
Without the distraction of the adverts I was able to admire the level of detail that the designers of Ascension had gone to. This concourse was not even a main route into the Commercial District and yet it was furnished with an opulence that could scarcely have been described. The walls for example were a black matt metal, but they had been finished with a layer of clear glossy ceramic. This gave off a s.h.i.+ne that was simply unbelievable. Curved chrome lamps, like double swords, shone a flickering blue across the glossy material. Recessions in the walls contained floodlit waterfalls or sculptures that had holos of water or nature flas.h.i.+ng upon them, bouncing off them, flying into them. The concourse was divided by a silver and gla.s.s, waist high part.i.tion. The high curved roof was also lit from behind in an array of colours, all of which s.h.i.+fted and morphed along its decadently patterned surfaces. Much like everything in Ascension a simple concourse was huge in composition. It could have fit a hundred of us in breadth alone. I looked to my feet and saw to my surprise a patterned marble floor. The station was truly a wonder.
'So how much farther is it?' I asked.
'The Commercial District is still a considerable distance from here. It appears that Blue Dawn's time projection may be a little optimistic,' Sean replied levelly. He resumed his humming with his usual amiability.
Aeniah seemed impatient, she began to hammer her pistol against her thighs as she walked, each of her fingers rolled in between each loud slap. Finally she broke her silence. 'So I don't suppose that there is any other way of getting there a little faster?'
Sean flew ahead of her, spun to face her, and flew backwards at her walking pace. He started humming in a monotone and then after just a moment he replied, 'there is no faster way to get to the Centre for Administration without using the highway system. The closest access to which is in the Commercial District. The docks were deliberately kept separate from the main transport hubs in case of an invasion. The route is deliberately designed to be a great length from the dock and is highly defensible due to its narrow confines, as are the science wards and the detention facilities. However there may be a faster way of reaching the Commercial District from here. Whilst the high-speed lev-rail networks and other primary transport infrastructure is too heavily damaged for use, there may still be local interlink trams that can be used. I am only suggesting this as a possibility because this concourse has received little, if any, damage. The interlink runs in parallel to this concourse and the nearest station is coming up on our left. In one hundred and fifty meters there should be a sign which has a symbol depicting a square with three arrows running through it. There no guarantees that the tram will be in working order.'
'Well that's good enough for me. Alright people keep the pace up. With me now! Everybody cover the intersection, you know what to do.' Without even finis.h.i.+ng her final word she took off at a sprint. After a moment of pause we all began to run together. Each of our paces was completely in sync. The entire concourse thudded to the metrical rhythm of our boots. If anything was waiting for us round that corner I was sure that they would know that we were coming.
We were approaching the sign; it had only just become visible. The sign dimmed and shone as the bright yellow arrows intersected the rectangular symbol. The corner appeared darker than the rest of the well lit concourse, but I was sure that it was just my imagination. Aeniah showed no signs of slowing and our feet banged mercilessly upon the floor. Suddenly I saw Aeniah dive, she rotated in mid-air and landed on her knees facing the direction of the interlink, her gun was at the ready. I moved in behind her, a moment later, with my breathe held. The rest of our unlikely group fell in around us. We did not breathe as each of our devices switched to night vision or began to illuminate the darkness ahead.
There was nothing to see but the flickering of lights which were activating in antic.i.p.ation of our arrival. Crouching low to the ground we stepped slowly into the ever brightening walkway. The walkway had an arched ceiling. It was not as wide as the concourse but it was certainly wide enough. Here there were no adverts. It seemed as though this was not the primary way by which to get to the interlink. Ahead a tall pillar flashed on. It came to life with a musical little number. Above its cylindrical body there was a floating holo stating information directory. We pa.s.sed it with little concern.
The interlink could not have been far away. I was not sure how distance used to be measured but the numerals on the roof of the walkway were gradually counting down. It had moved from two symbols side by side to one. If my estimation of United World numeracy was correct there were only five more digits before we arrived. And just then I saw the characteristic change in the shade of colour that indicated a new place. If this walkway was coloured with a cream marble then the room ahead, whatever it may be, was certainly a very sooty grey.
I could see it now. The tension was visible among my companions. In truth I felt it too. The shaky way they walked, almost mechanically, gave away their true feelings. Even Aeniah seemed coiled like a viper awaiting some unknown threat. It was what we could see before us that was causing all the tension. We were but meters away, and yet even from this distance it was obvious that all was not well ahead. Abigail, the most obviously nervous of the group, made a motion as if to ask to turn back. But we all ignored her, the concourse was going to take too long, and if we needed to fight we may be too tired after a journey of that length.
We had made it to the opening of the interlink station. There were torn off screens everywhere. Everything had that burnt peeling look that was so distinctive of Ascension. My lancer swiped to thermal, but there was nothing there. Aeniah stepped over the threshold. I covered her as she entered and then slipped in behind her. Without the interference of the light of the walkway the innards of the station were much clearer.
The first thing to note is that in fact there was some light. Amongst the huge columns that supposedly held up the roof, were cl.u.s.ters of bulbs. This light was dim and appeared more for decoration than for purpose. It appeared that Carvelle had gone for an age-gone-by aesthetic to the place. There was actual paint covering the walls. I knew this because it had peeled dreadfully under the heat of the weapons exchange that had brought Ascension to its knees. To me Ascension seemed like a living monument to the depths that humanity could sink. On the one hand it still held the seductive promise of becoming a G.o.d, but on the other it showed, in each of its isolated pockets, what we would inevitably use this power for.
Amongst the clutter of the station, its overturned stands and broken architecture, was the tram. Incredibly it still remained attached to its overhead tracks. I noticed that although it was badly burnt and in need of restoration it appeared to be usable. The tram was constructed in an old fas.h.i.+oned style. It had none of the neat lines and sleek curvature of the rest of Ascension. It was decorated with gold filigree which created an opulent vibe. The paint was green and there was real gla.s.s functioning as windows. This was much in contrast with the perfectly transparent membranes that usually covered Ascension. I knew it was real gla.s.s because it was dirty. Membranes were self cleaning.
After taking in the sights we slowly inched our way towards the tram. I jumped down from the station and onto the tracks. The short grooves catching at my feet as I crossed over to the tram. Aeniah was still in front. She had her gun held in a grip so tight I was certain that it would shatter. But the ancient device kept on working.
With a tremendous kick of her right leg she broke open the tram door. There was no noise inside. The lights on the tram flickered in anger at the intrusion. There was still too little light to see clearly. The silence pervaded everything, it seemed to impress itself upon you, make you really fear. Aeniah had disappeared into the tram, the gla.s.s was too burned to make her out clearly.
I moved up the steps and into it. The smell inside was awful. Almost predictably I saw the bodies, each in a frozen position of terror. These bodies appeared to have been cut and slashed and not burnt. There was no motion. The smell, however, did not seem to be coming from the bodies, they had been flash frozen in the station when Ascension powered down. Instead the stench seemed to be coming from one of the forward carriages. Aeniah motioned for me to go first. The others were only just making their way onto the tram.
I placed my fingers on top of the handle. Ever so gently I ma.s.saged the handle down. It let out just the faintest of squeaks. Almost as if in slow motion I pushed the firmly shut door open. It moved without grace, but thankfully without sound. My hand retreated quickly but silently. I raised my lancer back to my shoulder and stared down the scope.
Instantly I saw what was creating the stench. A body ahead had become extremely bloated through a process of decay I did not understand. The levels of putrefaction were far more advanced than any of the other bodies that I had encountered. I knew that the body was dead, stone dead, at least until I saw it move.
A faint twitch perhaps, perhaps it was nothing. I squeezed my fingers a little more firmly around the trigger. I should have been a mad man, it would have made life easier. Then there was another much more obvious twitch. My heart burnt with fear. Then whole body shook and released more of that foul odour. Perhaps it was some totally explainable phenomena, like severed heads that keep on talking. But again it twitched. The sight was beginning to unnerve me. Then its arm twitched twice and then flexed itself. This was no dead thing.
The bloated corpse raised itself to its feat giving out a tremendous screech as it did so. In terror I pulled the trigger. The corpse was still facing away from me. But it did not fall. I pulled the trigger again, and to my horror saw nothing happen. Neither shot had fired. Now the corpse was beginning to turn as if sensing my presence. I desperately continued to squeeze the trigger. I hammered away at it with my finger but it simply would not respond.
Then I saw its face. The face was something that simply could not have belonged to a human being, and yet it was so very human. His eyes bulged. His face was puffy and yellow. The lips were dry and had receded to the point that there was no longer a chance of the upper and lower ever meeting. On his chest was a huge wound which had long ago stained his sweater. The dried blood was so old that it was almost black and was flaking off. I had no idea how this figure remained standing without even any blood coursing through his veins.
His huge yellow eyes finally locked onto me. The disgusting lips twitched upwards in an attempt at a smile. But the muscle was so wasted that only the faintest twitch at the corners could be observed. I pulled the trigger again but nothing happened. He began to stumble towards me in an almost comical fas.h.i.+on.
Those huge inflated arms came towards me. I rammed my lancer into the creatures face. But with so much damage already inflicted upon the creature I knew that this would cause little more than a distraction to his murderous rampage. Behind me Aeniah was swearing, her pistol had also failed to fire. I was by myself, the narrowness of the tram prevented Aeniah from getting ahead of me.
He closed his hand against my shoulder, I desperately pulled back trying to get free. He was too strong, even with such a level of muscle decay. I kicked out getting him in the stomach and he released me. I ran backwards as fast as I was able in the narrow confines of the tram. He began to lurch forward drunkenly again. There was little I could do now to prevent the inevitable. He was so close I could smell the necrotic stench of his breathe.
To my right gla.s.s shattered and the creature was. .h.i.t by a hundred holes. A second later and my mind processed the sound of automatic rifle fire. The rifle fire stopped. I looked out of the broken window to my right and saw Abigail smiling at me. She was holding her large black a.s.sault rifle casually. I smiled my thanks but something whacked into the back of my head.
I was on the ground now. I could not see much from the floor but the feet of the corpse. With shock I realised, from the orientation of his feet, that he was still standing, no, moving. I could hear more automatic fire and then heard the unmistakable thud of the creature again hitting the deck. There was a second thud. I strained my eyes to see that the second thud was the sound of the creature's head impacting the floor. Its blood was yellow.
I was still too dizzy to stand, but I knew that the rifle fire must have been sustained for such a long period of time that it would have severed, piece by piece, the creature's head. This had definitely prevented any further movement. There was something else that occurred to me and it was that if just one bloated figure took this long to kill, how on earth we were supposed to be able to get all the way to the Centre for Administration and then to a Xenith cla.s.s vessel. In short, we were going to die.
As I was on the ground I began to hear voices, loads of them. My vision began to wash away. Colour drained itself from my surroundings. I got gingerly to my feet. The colour was beginning to flood back into the world. In that moment I realised that I was having yet another vision of the past. With frustration I wondered why these visions only seemed to come right in the middle of the most dangerous parts of my journey.
All around the tram there were people waiting and bustling. The bright gold filigree of the tram reflected off all the surfaces of the station. The station itself was bright and gleaming. Sparkling gold rails added a wintery texture to the surroundings. The clothing of the commuters was of a strange composition. In Bataga I was used to a plethora of cultures, each wearing incredibly differing garments. And yet here there was very little in the way of radically differing styles. I also noticed that many of the women on the platform wore the same strange garments as Blue Dawn. Instead of being divided into trouser legs they simply continued down as one. Furling outwards or slashed along the side they ran down to differing heights. Some left little to the imagination, others trailed across the floor.
Some of the commuters had a strange sort of holo floating around their eyes. It seemed to display media of some description. The crowd seemed to bustle and heave. Everyone was weary. Two angels waited at the station. Each of the crowd would touch a part of them and gasp in rapture. Some would correct cosmetic errors on their faces with the Promethean Layer, others would use it to lift their heavy bags onto the trains. All the while the angels endured their jostling and pus.h.i.+ng without expression. The impatience of the commuters seemed to manifest itself in the rough treatment of the Equinox subjects. Around the angel's shoulders was a sash which contained the words empower yourselves, empower the people.
For one reason or another one of the angels seemed to refuse one man access. 'What the h.e.l.l. You, Equinox, supply now!' But still the angel resisted. The man drew a firearm and placed it against the angel's head, he spoke coldly. 'Provide me access, I command you.' He was sweating from his forehead. His hands were shaking and the gun would not stay level.
The angel whispered something into his ear. I should not have been able to hear it from this distance but it seemed that I could hear despite the void between us. 'For everything there is a price. For the power of a G.o.d the price is always the highest. He will take away your soul.' And then the angel bowed her head. A fraction of a second later the gunman blew her brains out. The crowd cheered in euphoria. A single tear dripped from the other angel's eyes as she saw her sister fall. In the background, just for a second, I heard a man cry out. I spun to find him, but could not. Scanning the crowd I saw him, at last. He was obvious only because he had not joined in with the cheering. Next to him was a woman of great height and her face displayed an expression such as one who had just witnessed true evil for the first time. I saw that expression again and again in the faces of those in the crowd, but there were so few of them.
As the tall woman and the man who cried out reached the platform I watched them intently. They both placed their hands into the angel's and kissed her on the cheek. The other commuters seemed not to notice. And then they did something curious. The woman, with the greatest of stealth, took a syringe from her pocket. Hiding it with her open palm she placed it into the angel's side and depressed the plunger. The angel closed its eyes and gazed upon them with thanks. In a moment, almost without me noticing, the two had disappeared. I scanned my eyes to find them and saw them leaving the station. I looked around the crowd to find any of the others that I had seen in silent protest. I could see none of them. It appeared that they had all left station. I wondered where they had gone.
The vision ended its little sequence. The characters in this ethereal play ceased their motions, suspended forever in time. The sound drained, sucked away forever, into the past. These visions did not belong in my memory, they belonged to the dead. It was so strange to take these memories from them. In the final moments of the visions conclusion I saw something amazing. The once damaged and beaten angel glistened with light. A rainbow of patterns shone all over her. And with a smile she outstretched her snow white wings, as raindrops that s.h.i.+mmered like rainbows bounced upon her feathers. She raised her triumphant head and soared into the sky. And with that the vision truly ended.
My head was on fire, it throbbed as though I had drunk an exceptional quant.i.ty of alcohol the night before. When the throbbing gradually diminished I gently eased myself onto my knees, and without any speed at all heaved myself to my feet. But the ground was uneven and I staggered once I had reached my summit. I turned to look through the broken gla.s.s and found that the train had already begun to move. A disembodied voice announced 'welcome to Greenline interlink tramways. Your next station is Integral Plaza. This service will terminate at the Grand Concourse, Commercial District. Casting is prohibited within the confines of this tram. We hope that you enjoy your ride.'
A guy tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face him. It was Kolven. Harris and Abigail were huddled together on one of the trams seats, despite the temperature being relatively mild. Aeniah and Sean were visible in the driver's compartment talking in whispers.
'You okay buddy?' Kolven asked. I nodded in response. 'Say, George right?' Again I nodded. 'You don't think you could use some of that magic, what Blue Dawn was going on about, to get us out of here? I mean, I just wanna go home, you gotta take me there. Right? You got it? I can't die here man.' He was squeezing me quite tightly.
I was fairly nervous but tried to keep my voice calm and kind. 'Kolven, this ability doesn't work like that. I know you really want to go home, but I can't take you there. It just doesn't work like that.'
Kolven pushed me. 'No, you don't understand buddy,' his voice had taken one a wild texture. 'I can't stay here much longer. You get me? I can't cope for much longer. I want out. I want my home. Take me home George, take me home.'
I softened my voice, just a touch. 'You do remember, don't you Kovlen? Earth was destroyed. You have no home. Home is right here with us. We are here to make ourselves a new home. But first that home has to be free from the effects of the artefact. You do understand don't you?'
But Kolven could not be reasoned with. He began to rave about getting the f.u.c.k out of here. Aeniah had been distracted by this and had wandered up next to him at a violent pace. But as she got there he suddenly fell silent and just stared off into the distance. 'That's better,' said Aeniah. She was about to turn around and go back to the drivers compartment when an expression crossed her face.
'Kolven?' she enquired. 'Kolven can you hear me?' But there was no response. Aeniah moved towards the figure that was now standing perfectly still. His face had gained a sort of transparent mesmerised complexion to it. There was a small amount of saliva tracing its way from the corner of his mouth on an inexorable path to the ground.
'I think he might be gone, Aeniah,' I whispered.
Aeniah raised her gun to his temple. His eyes did not even track towards the weapon. He did not even seem to breathe any longer. She placed her lips against his lips and kissed him. Kolven seemed to sag a little, as if some invisible substance had been drawn from him. 'Forgive me,' Aeniah whispered. She turned the pistol to its lowest setting and with great regret pulled the trigger. There was no mess, only the tiniest of holes perforated Kolven's skull. He stayed on his knees for a while before he rolled over onto the ground.
For some reason a great compulsion came across me not to go anywhere near him. The dead seemed to have this annoying little habit of getting up and walking around whilst I was about. I left Abigail and Harris to it. They seemed to be perfectly at ease with the body of their friend lying next to them. Well perhaps not perfectly at ease, but they seemed to be dealing with it a lot better than I was.
In a huge act of courage, excuse the sarcasm, I walked away from my fears and went to join Aeniah and Sean in the drivers compartment. 'So how far do we have to go?' I asked.
'Not that far,' replied Sean. 'Aeniah and I are thinking of disembarking at the penultimate station to the Commercial District and walking the rest of the way down the lines. This will significantly increase our ability to remain relatively covert.'
'Aeniah, why did our guns give out just then? We are not going to be of any use unless we can actually return fire.'
'The guns are powered by Blue Clarity. Blue Clarity functions by drawing a very small amount of power from the Promethean Layer. This tiny amount of power is allowed to decay in a reaction chamber until it releases electricity in huge quant.i.ties. It stands to reason that anything distributing or containing significant quant.i.ties of the Promethean Layer's energy may well be able to disrupt our weapons' energy production.'
'But wait just a moment,' I said to her, 'you're telling me that that thing was casting?'
'No, not at all. Look George, that thing should have been dead. From the cerebral scarring that Sean detected we have concluded that he was probably a heavy user. It seems that the Promethean Layer doesn't just give you the power of a G.o.d, it can bring you back from the dead. Motherf.u.c.ker must have been conserving his energy 'till he had something to kill. The only way to take them down seems to be to shoot them in the head. The body can't move without the brain.'
Sean interrupted close to hysterics. 'That is exactly right. The caster's store the energy within their brains. This remnant of the Promethean Layer is what is keeping them alive. Damaging the brain, even a little, will result in the loss of this energy. Taking away this energy is rather like shutting off the life support system to an intensive care patient.'
Aeniah rolled her eyes. 'Yes,' she said sarcastically, 'it is exactly like killing the elderly and infirm.'
The train ground to a halt with a screech. We looked about but saw no station, everywhere was pitch black.
'Strange,' said Sean, 'the station should be on our right.' I raised my lancer and with relief I saw that it had come to life. The screen swiped to night vision. Through the green haze I could make out the tall distinctive columns of the station. Aeniah appeared to see the same thing and she relaxed a little. Abigail and Harris were very tense. I moved over to them and motioned for them to come close to me. The tram was emitting too much light. If anything was out there in the darkness they would be able to see us a mile off. My lancer swiped to thermal but nothing was visible.
Each of us silently climbed out of the window. The tram creaked and hissed. Aeniah and I were now the only effective combative force, the others could not use the flashlights on their rifles for fear of giving away our position. The station made no sound. The air seemed to be thick, as if it had not been circulated in years. I reminded myself that given the damage done to these sections it was very possible that I was breathing in the same air that the citizens of Ascension were breathing all of those years ago.
We softly stepped along the side of the tram. Still there was no noise, no movement on my scope. Sean had shut off his little blue light. When I took my eyes away from the scope I saw just how dark the tunnel that we were heading towards was. There was literally no way that I could see further than a foot in front of me.
We were in the tunnel now. The lights from the tram had fed off into the distance. Abigail had placed her hand around my waist so that I would navigate her through the tunnel and Harris had placed his around Aeniah. I was not certain at first how Aeniah was navigating. She had no scope and no flashlight to see with. It was then that I heard her whispering to Sean and complaining about his camera angle. She must be seeing a visual feed from Sean's camera. I started to pay attention again. The scope was revealing little of interest, a pipe here, a pipe there. The journey so far had seemed to take an age.
Gradually, ever so gradually, I began to see an end to the tunnel. The pipes and rails seemed to end at a grey blur. This, I was sure, would be the end of the line. The shapes began to grow into many shapes. And each of those shapes gradually became more defined. A series of structures perhaps?
I stared intently down the scope awaiting the promise of treasures Ascension had been so keen to make us aware of. I almost didn't notice the targeting reticule go red. That was strange. The reticule only went red when there was a target present. Sean had said that it would recognise most targets and use a series of ballasts in order to guide the users hand towards the target. Sean acknowledged that innovations such as these had somewhat reduced the average United World citizens' capacity to adapt to the loss of such technology after the wars.
I looked at the menu options and tried to find out what the problem was with the device. But the device reported no issues. Instead it offered to explain the reason for the targeting scenario. I confirmed. Within a moment it zoomed straight into the problem, and the problem was a horde. There was a ma.s.s of them seething forwards. At this distance it was almost impossible to hear them, but the new resolution of the lancer allowed me some clarity of sight. It was beyond anything I could imagine, so many shapes were writhing about the image from my scope that I could scarcely make out any individual in the seething ma.s.s.
Gradually, ever so gradually, I noticed something very important. This ma.s.s of bodies was not moving in a poorly arranged confusion, they were moving with a purpose, they were moving towards us. We must have been making more sound than I thought. For a moment I was dumbfounded. Then I screamed, 'Aeniah, they're coming.' She looked towards me in confusion. Slowly I saw the white light of her eyes flick upwards through the green haze and consulted with to Sean. In a moment her face changed from confusion to worry and from worry to horror.
'What should we do?' I screamed. Aeniah was beginning to rush forward in a crouch.
'Just f.u.c.king shoot them. Put yourselves in automatic and start firing,' she shouted back loudly.
An Obsidian Sky Part 8
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An Obsidian Sky Part 8 summary
You're reading An Obsidian Sky Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Ewan Sinclair already has 551 views.
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