Chronicle of Nautilus

Chapter 43: The Villains

The Outsider stood in the darkness. He had returned to the vessel after the small distraction of Tom’s. A wide grin decorated his face.  The moment of triumph was finally close. He remembered the hard work he put in for this to happen - all those weapons and drones he dug out from city’s underground, all the ‘whispering’ he had to do to get an army of cannon-fodder, all his efforts would finally pay up.

Left the best for me, he thought, took out three small metallic balls out of a pocket of his jacket and tossed them upwards. The first one flew forward into the darkness, another illuminated the path in front of him and the last one moved behind him and stopped by the breached entrance.

The sounds of blasts and explosions echoed from the direction the first drone floated to. The Outsider peeked at the timer on his comms device. It showed 06:35.

He called out, “Show me the map,” and the drone guarding projected a three dimensional map.

A red point left a green dashed line in its tracks. It sped through the twisted transparent corridors, making a sharp turn here and there. Another red dot blinked on the opposite direction by an edge of a contour touching empty space.   The Outsider spread his hands and the map zoomed in. He then put them into such position as if he held an imaginary ball. When he turned the hands, the map turned as well.

The Outsider followed the progress of the red dot on foot, increasing his pace with each step. The green line separating him and the red dot shortened. The noise of blasts firing got louder. Soon they were just around the corner.

He picked his comms device and manipulated it, pushing the last button with a moment of hesitation.

He froze, blood came to his eyes. He felt space around him bend. His muscles hardened and the flesh he possessed became lighter. After perception of space returned to normal and the color of blood disappeared from his eyes, he smashed the handheld device to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

He grabbed the drone that was projecting the map and rushed forward. Time slowed down for the Outsider and he found himself standing behind the ‘front’ drone in no time. This works, he perceived, looking at his shaking fist.

He coughed and covered the mouth with a hand. Blood dripped from the fingertips after lowering it. The darkness surrounding him got brighter. The sounds in the distance became louder.

He sprang forward, smashing everything in his path, none of the drones and security turrets could keep up with him. He watched all shots fired from the drones and security turrets in slow motion and dodged them with no effort. He tore through the security equipment and rushed forward, leaving a trail of trashed security drones behind. Doors that stood in his path and refused to open were broken by his brute strength.

 He ran and ran and then he stopped. A drone, no different from others, stared at the Outsider from afar. It did not fire. It only stared and beeped annoyingly. There was something threatening about that little bastard. The Outsider felt the contact with the flesh disappear, the strings of his control detach.  The empty vessel fell and hit the ground. 

“I will not fail.” He told to himself in the darkness and attempted to force his way back.

******

Glen walked holding a flashlight shaped laser cutting tool and an item resembling a lantern in another. The lantern sparkled in vast array of colors. The light it spread was more than enough to illuminate the path ahead. A warm breeze radiated from it. When Glen's skin was touched by the lantern's light it gave out a slight shade of green.

His comms device had broken down a while ago and he had to rely on his memory to navigate through the maze. He found the layout of the corridors quite simple. The major annoyance was their lengths. And the fact that none of the elevators worked. He had to climb at least four floors up to get to this place. He had broken quite a sweat, yet was only a halfway through. He had to hurry. Time was not on his side.

Glen found no resistance in his path as all the security drones broke down long before he approached them.  He passed a couple of dead metal machines lying on the ground and came to a door with a burned panel on its side. He pushed a button on the flashlight and a heating ray of light hit the door. Clouds of steam rose up and liquid metal flowed down at the point where laser intersected the door.

******

The brute picked himself up from the elevator floor and entered the basement. "That little scum," he murmured, looking at the wounds, the bleeding of which would not stop.

Leaking as a plastic bottle pierced by a needle multiple times, he dragged his feet, leaning along the right wall of a long passage, blasting every door open. The sophisticated equipment, the peculiarities of devices unknown to the public did not interest him. There was only one thing he came here to do and he would not stop before he finished the job.

For as long as he remembered nightmares and violent images had haunted him. He knew deep inside that dreams were true.  Traits and excitement he experienced in them were the things stolen from him. He felt as if he was living a bad dream - working, abiding rules, being a decent citizen, doing everything that was against his nature. And then came the Voice. His whispers were like music to the brute. The Voice's promises and talks gave him hope no else ever did. The Voice brought back his memories in exchange for a promise to help 'serve justice to the humanity'. The brute agreed to make the deal and boy he was not let down. The missing gaps in his memories came to him as a panacea.

 He finally understood who he was - a simple man for whom destruction and violence were the main drivers.  He had done many terrible things during his life with no regret. There was a time when he flourished, time when there was chaos on the streets.

Now he was a soldier with no side to fight for - a mechanical watch in a digital world. But today he felt alive, he felt the excitement again.  To die in action would be a fitting end to him.

The brute blasted another door open and here it was - the nest of cockroaches to be exterminated.  The surprised faces of the people soon to be killed added sweet flavor to the attraction. He lifted the gun with both hands, ramming his shoulder against entrance side and pushed the trigger. He felt joy watching the poor bastards fall.

 The line of fire traces the far wall from right to left. Here goes the middle-aged scrub sitting by the computer, a priceless surprise on his face. Here goes the old geezer pierced by at least three bullets, blood spilling out of his chest. Here falls the young woman with glass tubes in her hands. Different glassware containing colorful liquids shatter. The fire starts on the table. The brute hears gunshots coming at him from behind. The view begins to get dizzy. He starts falling, but before hitting the ground he manages to unload what remained in the energy battery on the two scums in the far end of the room. The lights go out. He finds himself in the darkness and unsettling silence. His world ends.

"Well done," the Voice whispers.

   - - - - - -

 Claire let her gun down. After the brute fell, she ran to the room and was stopped by a wall of flame. Two bodies could be seen lying on the ground.  A boy was sleeping calmly on the far side of the room on a comfortable mat. As flames touched him the boy did not even twitch. She stood there, pale, watching. The tears came to her eyes. She fell to her knees and began to sob, shaking.