Extensis Vitae: Empire of Dust Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Front Matter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Author's Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  EXTENSIS VITAE:

  EMPIRE OF DUST

  GREGORY MATTIX

  Extensis Vitae: Empire of Dust

  Copyright © 2014 by Gregory Mattix

  Cover Art by Isikol

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  The sky was a pallid gray, the color of men lying in the grave. Fat, heavy snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky as observers gathered silently in the frigid morning to bear witness to the proceedings in the courtyard. The day was a fitting one, considering the traitors did not have long until they would find themselves put in the ground.

  Two men faced their fate in dramatically different fashions. A young man cursed and fought as Yakuza enforcers dragged him into the square and forced him to his knees. His cries were shrill, those of a coward, and his struggles fruitless. An old man accepted his fate with a silent dignity that spoke volumes about his character, despite his crime.

  Rin Takahashi stood next to Seijin, her brother and clan chief, watching in silence. She knew she should have felt pleased that the two traitors had been unveiled and were about to get the punishment they deserved. In reality, she just felt tired and sad—tired of the constant strife and conflict that was her life, and sad that men who had loyally served the family for decades had felt the need to betray them.

  The old man, Shoda Yakoto, was a lifelong servant of the clan, and his loyalty had never been doubted. The discovery of his treachery had been a shock to everyone.

  Taro Rikuto, on the other hand, had mostly been kept on the outskirts of the inner circle until his recent betrayal. As a result of his treachery, Rin had been dishonorably forced into two years of abuse and slavery. When she disappeared, along with her fellow lieutenant and lover Ryu, Seijin found himself lacking lieutenants he could trust. Seijin promoted Taro, which was evidently what their cousin had hoped for all along. It was widely assumed that Taro had been plotting to assassinate Seijin himself and to seize control of the clan as well as Shiru International, the second most powerful megacorporation in the world.

  Rin carefully kept her face blank as stone as she suppressed a flicker of rage and hurt. She hadn’t been terribly surprised when her cousin’s treachery was revealed, but she was still coming to grips with the shocking fact that Shoda Yakoto had been involved in the plot. Under interrogation, Shoda confessed to stealing Rin’s token and leaking details of her whereabouts in order for Taro to sell her out to the Overseer and his vile brother. Ryu had been murdered and Rin enslaved to Haze.

  Once Seijin’s interrogators had gotten to the bottom of the scheme, they uncovered a closely held scandal of the clan. Taro was the bastard son of Shoda, birthed to Rin’s aunt. Rin and Seijin’s father had covered up the scandal when he ran the clan decades prior. It made sense why her aunt had been quietly banished back to Japan decades before for besmirching Clan Takahashi’s honor in such a manner.

  Now that justice was about to be served, Rin mostly wished things could go back to how they had been nearly six months before. Michael Reznik had freed her from her enslavement to Haze, and she helped him battle the remainder of Haze’s gang in an underground colony. She then accompanied him across the wasteland to seek out Ichiro to hack Reznik’s kill switch. More recently, they traveled to Skin City, killing the Overseer and freeing the city in their costly victory.

  Much too costly… a Pyrrhic victory if there ever was one. I wish Reznik was still alive. Those were good days—traveling and fighting together. I’m more suited to that ronin lifestyle than this political intrigue and strategic warfare.

  Despite the high price of the victory, their labors seemed to be making headway. Skin City was in the competent hands of a new mayor and city council. The hasty alliance between Rin’s clan and the wasteland rebels seemed to be paying off as well. By all accounts, the wasteland rebels were recruiting strongly and skirmishing with Thorne Industries’ forces all along the borderlands.

  Rin’s train of thought was interrupted when Seijin stepped forward to pronounce judgment upon the traitors. His face was cold with anger as he regarded the two men before him.

  Seijin addressed the old man. “Shoda Yakoto, you are guilty of betrayal and bringing dishonor of the worst degree upon my sister and the Clan Takahashi. I believe your confession that the love of a father for his son allowed you to be manipulated into abetting this crime. I have taken into consideration your decades of loyal service to our clan prior to your crimes. As a result, I have decided to allow you to perform seppuku to reclaim whatever honor you once possessed. Takeo Yamashita will stand in as your kaishakunin. Have you any last words to say for yourself?”

  Shoda bowed deeply to Seijin. When the old man raised his head, Rin saw tears on his cheeks.

  “Thank you, oyabun,” he said. “There is no excuse for my actions, and I offer your sister, Lady Takahashi, my sincerest apologies.” She could see the shame and guilt tearing up the old man when he met her eyes. “I have dishonored you personally as well as the clan. For my crimes, I gladly submit to my fate as ordered. Oyabun, your generosity is undeserved but much appreciated.” Shoda bowed to both Seijin and Rin.

  Seijin nodded to Yamashita, and the enforcer stepped up behind Shoda’s left shoulder. Yamashita looked like a classic samurai with his dark kimono and stern demeanor. He silently drew his katana and held it vertically, standing as still as a statue.

  Shoda shrugged out of his pure white kimono, allowing the garment to fall to his waist, exposing his pale, bony torso. He neatly tucked the sleeves under his knees where he knelt on the ground.

  So he will fall forward, for a Japanese gentleman never dies on his back.

  The old man picked up the keen tanto set before him, looked at it for a moment, and took a deep breath. With a quick movement, he reversed the grip and plunged the blade into the left side of his abdomen. The old man’s eyes bulged in pain, but he admirably kept silent as he drew the blade across his belly. Blood poured from the wound, providing the only color in the gray morning as it stained his white kimono a brilliant crimson. With a final effort, Shoda twisted the blade, sliced upward, and pulled it free.

  At the instant Shoda removed the
tanto, Yamashita struck. The katana was a blur as it swept down, cleaving through the old man’s thin neck. At the last moment, Yamashita arrested the motion and pulled the blade free almost gently. Shoda’s head dropped neatly into his lap and rolled a short distance away instead of arcing free of the body and making an unseemly mess.

  Nicely done. Shoda faced his fate with courage and honor.

  Yamashita stepped back and bowed to Seijin and Rin. He wiped the blade with rice paper and resheathed it.

  The group stared at Shoda for a few moments, the silence almost oppressive in the gray morning. Taro Rikuto’s face had gone pale as he watched his father die, but Rin noted his eyes still held a glint of belligerence and hostility. Finally, Seijin stepped forward again.

  “Taro Rikuto, you too are guilty of betrayal and bringing dishonor of the worst degree upon my sister and the Clan Takahashi. Unlike your father, you have not proven yourself a loyal servant to the clan. You used deception and betrayal in order to further your own standing in this organization. I am partly at fault for bestowing a position of great power upon one who did not earn it. Nonetheless, your actions do not warrant a chance to redeem your honor. You will die like a dog. Have you any last words?” Two enforcers restrained the man, whose hands and ankles were manacled together. His token had been used to deactivate his nanites before the ceremony.

  Taro spat on the ground. “I have nothing to say. Your bitch sister never deserved to be made lieutenant in the first place. She deserved to become some wasteland marauder’s whore.” He flashed Rin a glare of hatred.

  Rin honestly had no idea what she had ever done to deserve such hatred from her cousin. Her brother, if anyone, deserved his spite, having never missed a chance to taunt and belittle Taro as they grew up. Rin, on the other hand, hadn’t gone out of her way to befriend the man, but she hadn’t insulted him either. She thought she had always been pleasant to her cousin. Guilt by association maybe? Instead of becoming angered by the man’s juvenile taunts, she just felt pity. What a pathetic man, to spend his entire life envying and hating us for what we had. It’s not like my life was any easier.

  “You even now dare to insult my sister?” Seijin’s voice rose in disbelief. “I don’t know where you went wrong, cousin, but your pathetic life ends today. Yamashita.”

  The enforcer stepped fluidly around to the front of Taro and drew his katana again. His face was carefully blank as, with a quick slash, he opened Taro’s belly. The young man screamed as his entrails slid out into his lap. He struggled against the strong hands of the enforcers that held him but was unable to free himself. His screams seemed to go on and on, echoing off the walls of the manor. He slumped backward onto the tiled patio as his lifeblood leaked out.

  Rin had lost count of how many men’s and women’s lives she had ended. They had always been in battle—clean deaths. She had no stomach for such brutal punishment, even as awful as Taro’s crimes might have been.

  “Will you end this, brother?” she asked quietly.

  Seijin’s face was hard, his eyes locked on Taro’s twitching form. Finally, he nodded. “Takeo, put this dog out of his misery.”

  Yamashita stabbed Taro through the heart. The man thankfully went still. Yamashita withdrew the katana, wiped it off on Taro’s kimono, and sheathed it again. With a bow, he stepped back. Taro slumped on his back in final disgrace, his entrails still steaming in the frigid air.

  Instead of feeling that justice had been served, Rin just felt empty inside. Where does this get us? Old debts are paid, loose threads are cut free of the web of fate, but that still leaves a war ahead of us.

  Chapter 2

  The once-sterile white walls of the test subject’s room were sprayed with blood. Marcus thought it looked as though a water balloon fight had occurred, but with blood-filled balloons instead. Unidentifiable lumps of flesh were strewn around the room, and a length of intestine hung from a ventilation grate overhead. The white bones of a young nurse’s rib cage stood out amongst the gore. A naked boy crouched near the body, gnawing on the young woman’s severed arm, his skin crimson with splattered blood.

  At some point, the boy had apparently shattered the track lights in the ceiling. The room was illuminated solely by light passing through the observation window, which cast deep shadows at the edges of the room, so the full extent of the carnage couldn’t be determined, not that Marcus wanted or needed to see any more.

  “My God… what happened here?” Marcus’s stomach clenched, and he had to fight back nausea at the scene. Even behind the inch-thick ballistic glass separating him from the scene, for the first time he could remember, he wished his bodyguards were present.

  “The little fucker rang the bell, and when Leona went to check on him, he jumped her. She didn’t stand a chance.” Brent’s face was contorted with grief and anger. “That… thing… needs to be put down, Marcus. It lured her in there just so it could ambush and mutilate her.” Brent had been dating Leona, the young nurse who had been slaughtered.

  Christ, you wouldn’t even see a wild animal slaughter its prey like that. Brent’s right… that thing did it just to see how badly it could savage her. “Where the hell were the guards?”

  “She didn’t even have a chance to hit her distress alarm, I’m assuming. She left the nurse’s station, and when they didn’t hear back from her in ten minutes, they went to check on her and found this.”

  This experiment was sanctioned way above my pay grade. They’ll be pissed if I shut it down. But if I don’t, they might pull it from my reach, and I won’t be able to do anything about it. Brent’s right—I need to end it. Fuck their experiment.

  “I’m really sorry, Brent.” Marcus sighed and clapped his friend on the back. “You’re right. I’m not gonna lose any more staff over this experiment. I’m calling it off. Go clear your head for a few minutes and send a couple guards and orderlies down here to clean up, would you?”

  As Brent went to fetch security, Marcus turned back to the bloodbath and found the child staring at him. It smiled when Marcus met its gaze.

  The hybrid child was only six months old chronologically, but it physically resembled a boy of fourteen. It had never been given a name, only the designation MHS-01. Gore dripped from its mouth as it regarded Marcus, a piece of flesh still lodged between its front teeth. The child’s eyes glimmered green in the dim lighting.

  Marcus shuddered, remembering the mutants from the wasteland. Thankfully, the adult mutant he had captured had died during the testing and experiments. His theory was that the mutants needed the radioactive, microbe-infused water found in their lair to survive long. Besides the DNA samples in storage, only the hybrid child remained from the mutant research program. MHS-01 was quite resilient, not having to rely on the radioactive water as the full mutants apparently did. Marcus made a mental note to have the DNA samples destroyed as well.

  As he swiped his hand over the control console, the display activated, reading the chip embedded in his hand. He noted that the scene had been recorded on vid, which would be good to use in his defense for the actions he was about to take. I suppose I’ll have to view it at some point, but I don’t have the stomach for it now. Even the thought of watching made him nauseous.

  He called up the extermination protocol, keyed in his code, and tapped the confirmation. A countdown timer appeared on the display, indicating the pending release of a poisonous-gas cocktail from the ventilation system.

  MHS-01 approached the window and placed a bloody hand against it. “What are you doing?” Marcus couldn’t hear the creature, as the microphone was off, but he could read lips well enough.

  Marcus activated the mic and speakers. “Why did you attack that nurse?”

  MHS-01 smiled again, displaying its sharp canine teeth. “I wanted to play with the lady, but she was mean to me and pushed me away. Then I got mad.” Its voice was soft, in contrast to the brutal creature it really was. Its capacity for learning and speech matched its apparent age. The creature ran its hand down t
he window, smearing it with blood.

  Marcus watched in sick fascination as MHS-01 painted a smiley face on the glass with its finger.

  “Will you play with me instead?” The creature’s eyes glinted with malice.

  “No. Playtime’s over for you, I’m afraid.”

  Marcus leaned closer and watched in fascination as the creature’s eyes narrowed, seeming to gleam more brightly. A vein pulsed in its forehead. Or is that one of those green tendrils growing under its skin?

  MHS-01 slammed a hand against the glass, making Marcus take a step back. “You can’t tell me when playtime is over.” The creature’s face seemed to become more bestial the more angry and agitated it became. “I’ll rip your face off like I did to the pretty lady,” it snarled. It began slamming its fists against the glass. A rattle sounded from within the window frame, and Marcus backed away involuntarily, afraid the pane of glass would come loose.

  Impossible. It can’t break out of there.

  He looked around nervously, but he was still alone outside the observation room. There was no sign of the orderlies or any guards.

  The timer chirped loudly as it expired, and Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. White plumes of gas began to billow from overhead nozzles, causing the air inside the room to become hazy within seconds.

  MHS-01 looked around in alarm. With a bestial yell of rage, it tossed a table across the room and ran beneath one of the HVAC vents. It leaped up and easily tore the metal grate free with one hand, sending it clattering to the floor. The hybrid jumped and grasped onto the lip of the ventilation shaft, hoisting itself up into the shaft.

  “Oh, shit.” Marcus watched in alarm, unable to move. He suddenly imagined the creature crawling through the ventilation system and dropping down on top of him to tear him limb from limb.

  The creature apparently became overwhelmed by the concentrated gas, and it fell out of the vent and down to the floor. It convulsed, arms and legs slapping the floor, and gave a shrill, childlike wail as it suffocated, the gas burning its lungs. After an agonizing few minutes, MHS-01 finally lay still.