Extensis Vitae: Empire of Dust Read online

  ***

  Marcus lost count of the patterns in the ceiling tiles high overhead at two thousand eighty-seven. He lay on a hard, narrow bunk, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He was the proud owner of a retina-searing yellow jumpsuit and some thin, rubber-soled slippers. The textured tiles were the only thing breaking the smooth monotony of the cell. A sound at the door interrupted his concentration.

  He wondered what time it was. The Datalink scrambler that had violated his ear canal had rendered his HUD inoperable, so he didn’t even have the minor luxury of keeping track of time. The blazing lights overhead burned constantly, day or night. His best guess was that it must be the next morning.

  The thick alloy door clunked as the bolts retracted, and it slowly swung open. Bethany stepped through and shut the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a frown on her face as she regarded him.

  She looked haggard—Marcus had never seen her that way. Her amber eyes had dark spots under them and were bleary from loss of sleep. How long has it been since she’s slept? Days, it looks like. Even skins started to show signs of weariness after days without sleep.

  “You look as if you slept as well as I did,” Marcus said. He sat up and leaned against the wall, trying to calm his nerves. Hers was the visit he had been dreading. “So is this the part where you torture the information out of me?”

  Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “No… this is the part where I ask nicely, and hopefully, you tell me.”

  “I don’t have anything to say. I did what I thought was right at the time.”

  “Really? How is colluding with a group of terrorists the right thing? You would jeopardize the lives of all your friends and coworkers based on the words of a father who’s been AWOL for twenty years?”

  “I can count the number of friends I have here on one hand. And no, I wouldn’t do anything to harm any of the blameless workers here. But, as far as I’m concerned, people like Thorne, Serrano, and their ilk will get what they have coming. I know you aren’t religious, but now might be the time to seek redemption.” Even though he was afraid she would snap, he spoke firmly and held her gaze. She seemed content to let him talk, so he continued. “You aren’t like them… not really, are you? What I saw in your file was a woman who grew up without her parents, lacking nothing, yet spent her free time doing social work and giving back to the community—a community that had fallen apart—a strong, independent woman who wanted to make the world a better place and enlisted in the Expeditionary Force. What happened to you?”

  “Being captured and tortured until you beg for death—wishing it would come, but it never does—that tends to change your perspective on life. But I’m not here to talk about me.”

  Marcus felt sorry for this woman who was almost the sister he’d never had. I can see why she takes my betrayal so personally. Have I made the right choice, taken the right side in this? The seeds of doubt had been growing since the prior day’s confrontation with Bethany until they were a choking vine threatening to strangle any remaining belief in the justice of the rebels’ cause.

  “No, I suppose not. But I believe deep inside you are still a good person although you might deny it.”

  Bethany looked away for a moment. “Your father once said something very similar to me. I proved him wrong by trying my damnedest to kill him.” Emotion filled her eyes when she met his gaze once more. “Don’t make the same mistake, Marcus. The one thing he was right about is that I’m not much more than a machine—whatever desires I might have are meaningless.”

  “I’m sorry for what they did to you—both your torturers and your great-grandfather.”

  “Spare me your pity, Marcus. I was reborn like a phoenix, only much more powerful than that broken shell of a person would have ever been, even had she not been consigned to a future of misery.”

  “Power without freedom doesn’t make you anything more than a weapon in someone else’s hand, does it? I think the choice was stolen from you—you were reborn, true, but also bound by constraints like all the other skins.”

  “Enough about me.” Her voice turned cold. She stalked over and glared down at Marcus. “Time’s up—tell me everything. I want to know every detail about who your contacts were, what their attack plans are, every bit of intelligence you delivered to them, troop strength, everything. You don’t want to try my patience on this.”

  Marcus sighed. He had to tell her something. Hopefully, I can buy some time. “I met the rebels just on that one occasion you captured on drone imagery,” he lied. “They approached me via secure message shortly after the video with Serrano appeared and promised to reveal the truth about what happened to my family. They were very careful to never discuss anything about their organization or plans. It sounded like whatever attack they might be considering is still in the planning stages, probably weeks away yet. The only individuals I saw were the six or eight people in the photo. You caught on before anything else could happen.” Enough truth mixed in that hopefully she’ll buy it.

  Bethany stared at him, turning his story over in her head. Slowly, she nodded. “And that’s it? Your father is the one behind this, I suppose?”

  “He made the move to contact me. That’s as much as I know.”

  “What else did you give them?”

  “Just the schematics.” Just don’t ask what I’ve been doing in the system. “See, you don’t have to beat a confession out of me. I’d hate for that to be weighing heavy on your conscience.”

  “Don’t test me, Marcus. I might beat you anyway just for stabbing me in the back after all I’ve done for you.”

  Marcus was silent. He knew he wouldn’t win that line of debate.

  “Well, you have plenty of time to think of anything else.” Bethany walked back to the door. “I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  “I don’t suppose you could arrange for me to visit Ayane since she’s in the same building now? Shouldn’t be too difficult to set up. She’s just across the way at Cell Block E.”

  “If I were you, I’d be happy that you’re getting off without even the slightest bruise. Don’t think that I’m going to stop digging for the truth of this matter. If I find out you’re lying to me, I’m going to be very angry. You won’t like our next chat if that happens. I’m liable to take out my anger on that little girlfriend of yours.” She gave him a stony glare before walking out and slamming the heavy door behind her.

  “Well, that went about as well as could be expected.” Marcus let out a deep breath. Bethany seemed to have bought his story for now. He didn’t know what that said about his character, that his ability to lie convincingly seemed to grow each day. Her threat to harm Ayane if he didn’t cooperate seemed genuine, which worried him.

  If only I had never gone on that expedition for Dr. Barbosa into the wasteland in the first place, none of this would have ever happened. Liu would still be alive, and I’d be going on about my blissful, ignorant life. Only when his thoughts turned to Ayane so close by, yet so far away on the other end of the detention center, did he realize how selfish and cowardly his misgivings were.

  It’s about much more than me or Father or Bethany or anyone else. Ayane and countless others are counting on me to succeed. Unfortunately, it seems those hopes were misplaced.

  ***

  Marcus was roused from a fitful sleep by the clank of the cell door unlocking. He sat up on the bed, shaking his head and trying to gather his wits. He had no idea what time it was, but he guessed it to be nighttime. He had lain around in boredom before deciding to do some push-ups and sit-ups to make up for the lack of any exercise. He had counted almost three thousand ceiling-tile patterns before dozing off.

  Lunch had been a shrink-wrapped ham sandwich that tasted like processed cardboard, as well as a package of dried fruit. A quick glance at the door revealed that the dinner tray sat there untouched, confirming his suspicion about the time. Slept through dinner… that’s a surprise. As the door swung open slowly, the implications hit
him hard. Oh shit, if Bethany’s back, that’s not good. I sure hope she didn’t hurt Ayane.

  He rose to his feet, stomach clenched in fear, waiting for her to storm into the cell in a hot fury. He wasn’t prepared for the figure that did step through the door.

  “Ah, I see you’re up, Mr. Mason.” A wiry man with a pinched face and dark—nearly black—eyes stepped into the cell. He slammed the door shut with a casual shove.

  “Carbajal? What are you doing here?” His mind raced as he tried to figure out the reason for the CorpSec chief’s presence. Is Carbajal going behind Bethany’s back?

  “Have a seat.” Carbajal stepped in front of Marcus and crossed his arms over his chest, studying him.

  Marcus had disliked the man since meeting him. He reminded Marcus of a rat, with his pinched countenance and beady eyes. Despite his slight appearance, the man was an advanced skin and very dangerous. His reputation for cruelty was legendary within the hallways of TI headquarters.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Bethany? I told her everything I know already.”

  Carbajal tilted his head slightly. “Is that so? Well, I’m not convinced of that, and neither is Mr. Thorne. In fact, he seems to think Bethany could be compromised on this matter, so he sent me to follow up.”

  A cold rivulet of sweat ran down Marcus’s back. I’m in deep shit now.

  “Well, she’s not going to be pleased when she finds out you’re going behind her back,” Marcus said.

  The room suddenly spun, and Marcus fell hard against the bunk. An ache in his jaw told him he had been struck. He hadn’t even processed the blow, it had come so fast.

  Carbajal stood over him. “I said have a seat. If you fail to follow instructions, it will go very badly for you. What Bethany thinks about our little chat is irrelevant. She’s been relieved on this matter. You will be dealing with me from now on.” He smiled, revealing neat little teeth. “Now, shall we begin?” Carbajal cracked his knuckles, and Marcus’s night quickly turned into hell.

  Chapter 24

  The District was socked in by a powerful spring storm system producing heavy clouds, precipitation, and howling wind. Visibility was practically zero. Reznik didn’t like going in blind, but the enemy was at a disadvantage as well. The transport ship they rode in was buffeted by the storm, threatening to make him airsick.

  Across from him, Rin sat with her eyes closed, as if meditating. Takeo Yamashita conversed quietly with his squad, ten enforcers total. Reznik was pleased Yamashita was accompanying them—he had earned Reznik’s respect after keeping Rin from further harm in Skin City when he’d convinced her to live and fight another day.

  Trying to take his mind off his queasy stomach, Reznik contacted Ichiro. “How are we looking on that air defense grid, Ichiro?”

  [I have extensively probed the system and isolated a series of vulnerabilities that I will be able to cripple. TI DefenseNet will be offline shortly, as we planned.]

  “How much downtime are we looking at?”

  [That is still unknown. The AI controlling the DefenseNet is very advanced. It will take every bit of my skill to get past its defenses and crash the system. It is quite possible it will get the best of me and reboot itself within minutes.]

  “Well, do your best, but if you have to disengage for self-defense, do it. Any luck on the power grid?”

  [The detention facility has its own dedicated power system off the grid, which will not be possible for me to disable. Perhaps if you need, you will be able to cut the power from inside? I anticipate being able to block all the comm channels in and out of that facility, however.]

  “And the rebels should distract any reinforcements with their assault on the main campus. Timing is going to be critical.” Reznik wasn’t totally sold on the plan, but it would have to do. “It’s the best plan we have to work with on such short notice, so we need to make it work.”

  [I have great confidence in your success. Best of luck, my friend.]

  “You too, Ichiro. Thanks.”

  He looked back up to find Rin watching him.

  “Everything set to go?” She seemed as calm as if waiting for a meal in a restaurant.

  Reznik envied her. Between his nerves and queasy stomach, he felt fortunate just keeping down his last meal.

  “Good to go. Just need everything to go precisely according to plan and a miraculous stroke of luck for mission success. And you know those never work out.”

  “Just like old times then,” she replied with a grin.

  Reznik smiled back in spite of himself. “Yeah, exactly. Wouldn’t be worth our time without ridiculous odds. Are your guys all ready to rock and roll?”

  Rin nodded. “Can’t say that when I woke up this morning I was planning on following you by jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft, but what the hell—you only live once.”

  Reznik grinned as he double-checked all his gear. He had the .45 on his hip and a tactical shotgun and a pulse rifle slung across his back. When he had died in Skin City, he had lost the plasma pistol, but Rin had managed to hold onto the targeted EMP device for him, which he slid into one of the ammo pouches on his tactical vest. A few frag grenades and spare ammo and energy cells filled the rest of his pockets. Also attached to his belt was an immobilizer like the one he had carried what seemed like a lifetime ago to Colony 13 when he went against Haze’s gang. He smiled to himself as he remembered his tussle with Rin when they first met. The immobilizer had ultimately ended that encounter.

  The pilot made an announcement that they were entering New USA airspace. No alerts for incoming fire went off, so apparently Ichiro had been true to his word, and the DefenseNet was disabled.

  Reznik pulled up his HUD map and tracked their path as they swooped in from over the Great Lakes and down the eastern seaboard. He zoomed in and studied the map of the massive Thorne Industries compound that Marcus had provided to the rebels and apparently paid for with his imprisonment.

  The compound was over fifty square miles, the size of a small city. At the far northern edge of the compound and hard against the water of the Chesapeake Bay was the detention center. Spreading across the southern edge in a crescent shape was the main part of the campus, made up of the headquarters and various research facilities. The space in the middle was taken up by barracks and living quarters, shops, restaurants, and support buildings. The nearest CorpSec barracks was a mile and a half from the detention center, he noted.

  Reznik drummed his fingers on the armrest as he waited. Several minutes later, the pilot announced T-minus two minutes to the drop zone.

  “Cloud cover is about eighty-five meters. Radar indicates heavy storm activity. How low shall I take us in?”

  “Better make it two hundred meters, then. If we get spotted, we’re done. We don’t want the prison’s autocannons to blast us out of the air,” Reznik replied.

  The pilot maneuvered the ship over the bay and brought it to a hover. When the cargo hatch dropped, cold wind and driving rain buffeted Reznik as he stepped to the edge, Rin and her Yakuza team lining up behind him. Visibility was limited to the gray storm clouds below them, occasionally lit up by distant lightning. Somewhere down there was the cold, choppy water of the bay. Never thought I’d be doing a jump without a chute. If we used chutes though, they could shoot us out of the sky. He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  And with that, he stepped off the edge of the hatch and into thin air. He expected the familiar jerk of the static line opening his chute, but it never came. Wind blasted him as he fell, and he opened himself up into a belly fly position to slow his descent a bit. He broke free of the clouds and could dimly see the prison’s bright spotlights in the distance as he fell. The choppy whitecaps of the bay rushed up to meet him.

  Reznik tucked himself into a straight-line position and sliced into the water. The fall, which would normally have broken just about every bone in his body without a chute, was absorbed by his dermal plating. He knifed hard into the water, shooting down into the black depth
s. Reznik calmly slowed his descent and swam back toward the surface. He could make out plumes of water around him when the others landed.

  He crested the surface and took a deep breath. Orienting himself, he swam strongly for the rocky shoreline. After a couple hundred yards, he pulled himself up on the shoreline, keeping low to the ground to avoid triggering any sensors from the prison.

  Rin and her team crept up beside him a few moments later. They lay still, surveying the forty-foot-high prison wall. Spotlights seemed to pan randomly around the interior and exterior. Reznik eyed the silent bulk of the nearest autocannon.

  “Looks like three sensor clusters on this side of the perimeter,” Rin said quietly.

  Reznik scanned the tops of the wall, his HUD highlighting each cluster. “I see the same. I imagine an alarm will go off shortly after we disable them, so we have to make it inside the wall in less than a minute is my guess. Everyone ready?”

  The Yakuza nodded silently. Three of the men aimed their Tachibana silenced assault rifles at the wall.

  Reznik readied himself. He took a deep breath. “Now.”

  The three assault rifles fired simultaneously. At the same instant, Reznik sprinted toward the wall. Rin raced beside him, and Yamashita and the rest of the squad spread out in a line. Reznik headed straight for the closest guard tower.

  Rin let up her speed slightly, allowing Reznik to get into position. He slid to a kneeling stop, turning just as Rin ran up. She extended her foot, and Reznik cupped it in both hands, heaving her upward with her momentum. Rin shot up to the platform of the guard tower overhead, smoothly vaulting over the railing.

  Along the wall, the Yakuza squad repeated the move at two other guard towers, launching their men up onto the wall. Yamashita wrestled with one of the autocannons below one of the towers—distressed steel shrieked as he ripped it free of its mounting. The heavy weapon thunked to the ground inert outside the wall.