After a moment, Jim’s gun began to click, the barrels glowing red, smoke pouring off of them. Jim’s other gun was gone; only a stump of rent metal and exposed wires remained.
Looks familiar, thought Letho.
He smiled, rising from cover.
“Damn,” Jim said.
Thresha grinned. “Out of bullets?” She fired her rifle at him, bullets ricocheting off Jim’s metal hide and passing harmlessly through the green smoke that was the obscene manifestation of Jim’s soul.
“I ain’t going down that easy, sugar,” Jim said. “Besides, I owe you one.”
He moved toward Thresha, the chain-gun on his arm folding back and splitting apart. Twin chainsaws with gigantic steel teeth emerged in their place. They spun up, sputtering black smoke as they growled. Jim charged forward, swinging his saws, aiming to take Thresha’s head off. This new Jolly Roger was faster than the previous incarnation, even in its current, mangled state, but it was still nowhere near the speed and agility that Jim had possessed in his former body. His swings were heavy and slow, and Thresha easily avoided them.
Saladin, give me a scan, would you?
Right away.
Suddenly everything went monochromatic red. Letho could see right through Thresha, and he marveled at her skeletal structure as she pirouetted past Jim, firing another blast into his faceplate. When Letho turned his focus to the Jolly Roger, he could see every rotor, every wire, every circuit board.
Then he found what he was looking for: a box in the center with a brain suspended in some sort of fluid. It was magic—or was it science? It didn’t matter. With Thresha providing a distraction, he leapt over the broken chunks of ceiling he had taken cover behind, landed nimbly right behind the Jolly Roger, and with one thrust, drove Saladin into the Jolly Roger’s back.
The blade pierced Jim’s brain, and he screamed, a jet of noxious green gas shooting up and dispersing across the ceiling like a geyser. Letho saw Jim’s snarling face materialize in the green cloud one last time, and then it was gone.
“Awwww, I wanted to kill him,” Thresha said, grinning.
Letho favored her with a blank stare, saying nothing.
“Letho Ferron, please report to the elevator at the end of the hallway. Your presence is required in the sleepers’ den.”
“Let’s go,” he said, turning to leave. He didn’t wait for Thresha’s response.
Shrugging, Thresha followed this strange automaton that seemed to have replaced Letho.
****
Letho stood at the entrance of the sleepers’ den. The hologram deck hummed to life, and a three-dimensional representation of an old man appeared before him. Before Letho could say a word, the man spoke.
“Our time is short, and there is much that I must convey to you, so I will do my best to keep it brief. My name was Chancellor Elan Steigen. I am responsible for all that is transpiring now.”
“I’ve seen your name before,” Letho said. “You issued the official decree on the Fulcrum recall.”
“Please, let me finish. Even now the citizens of this city are fighting for their lives. The fate of the Eursan race hangs in the balance. The man known as Elan Steigen no longer exists. Abraxas killed him. I am a virtual construct, a copy of his mind that exists only in the computer attached to his pod. The people in these pods are business leaders, politicians, engineers, doctors, artists. Long ago, when the world began to fall to ruin, when the resources that powered our cities began to run dry, those with enough influence, money, or desirable skills were placed in stasis in the pod bays you see before you. The hope was that we could preserve the tenets of our culture, the vast collective knowledge of the Eursan race. In this vulnerable form we needed protectors, people to keep our machines running so that we could maintain order. So we manipulated the genetic code of the people that chose not to board the Fulcrum stations. We molded them into creatures with strong backs and resistance to diseases and the elements. And we enfeebled their minds so that we could control them. Under our command they walled off our city, making it inaccessible to outsiders.
“You created the hammerheads,”
“That is correct. Within a few birth cycles, we had what we needed.”
“You bastards,” Letho growled.
Undeterred by his outrage, Steigen continued. “Nanomed technology was one of the greatest breakthroughs our species had ever known. We were able to use nanoparticles to speed up the evolutionary process and control the end product. We created the working caste, the ones you call hammerheads, to sustain us. In turn we sustained the city’s infrastructure, keeping the water running and the lights on.
“However, there were complications. The creatures that you call mutants are products of our machinations as well. Pitiful beings, aren’t they? They are members of the working caste that experienced adverse side effects from the nanomed treatment. Something we didn’t anticipate—some genetic complication caused them to become malformed. They were cast out of the city, where they continued to breed for centuries, further complicating their maladies as they mixed their broken chromosomes together. The end product is the creatures that you call mutants, who even now threaten our doorstep.”
“They exist because of your experiments? How could you?”
“I do not ask for your forgiveness, Letho. We are not blind. We see the consequences of our actions. The weight of or mistakes weighs heavily upon us, for in our attempt to preserve our race, we have brought it to the brink of annihilation.
“There is, however, something that can be done to make this right. The nanomeds that permeate our bloodstreams are also in the bodies of the mutants outside. There is a command that can be issued which will cause these nanomeds to turn on their host bodies, consuming them in an instant. A failsafe. This action will cause no pain, just instant oblivion. I would do it myself, but another failsafe is in place to prevent any member of the Corpus Verum from initiating the procedure. It can only be done externally, from that panel over there.”
Failsafes to prevent failsafes.
Letho scoffed. It was an empty sound, like an engine trying and failing to start.
Steigen pointed at a wall panel and it seemed to spring to life at his command, with text running down the screen. Letho couldn’t read all the text at a distance, but three words were visible at the bottom.
Yes or no?
“You must do it, Letho. Every single mutant in Hastrom city will be put out of their misery in an instant. No pain or suffering.”
“You said these nanomeds are in your own bloodstream,” Letho said. “So won’t they turn on you, too?”
Steigen nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. All of the sleepers’ bodies will perish, though I doubt you will shed a tear for us. However, although our bodies will die, our consciousnesses will be transferred to Hastrom City’s server bank. All the knowledge and cultural heritage contained within our collective minds will be saved, so that it can be utilized by all citizens of Hastrom City.”
“You’re seriously saying you want me to wipe out all the mutants and all the sleepers in a single stroke?” Letho cried. “And what of the hammerheads? Will they die too? Why not just wipe out all known life while you’re at it?”
“The members of the working caste—the hammerheads, you call them—will be unaffected. When Abraxas began harvesting blood from the working caste, I implemented a protocol to purge the nanoparticles within them. They will be immune to your actions.
“Do this for us, Letho. Help us to right the great wrong that we have created. End our suffering once and for all, and stop the cycle that has been perpetuated over so many centuries.”
****
Bayorn, Maka, and Adum stood atop the palace steps, watching the mutant horde sweep toward them. Swarming like locusts, the creatures covered the ground below, scrambling over one another as they rapidly ascended the steps like a wave of diseased flesh. Deacon and his fellow pilots hovered above, and so far had managed to keep the beasts at bay with their cannons. But they could not shoot all of them, and they had to be running low on ammunition. The mutants were already close enough that Bayorn could see the whites of their eyes. It wouldn’t be long now.