RULE #23

You found a dead tourist and by some miracle, their energy weapon is intact and loaded! Don’t bother. There is too much radioactive dust in the Sectors and you’re left with a fancy flashlight

~ The Scavenger’s Handbook

“Silence!” Konrad bellowed drowning all the shouting and arguing from the people gathered in the small room that Sandy used as an office.

Cramped with cabinets overflowing with printed documents, scattered data drives and burned-out tablets, there was hardly any place for an extra chair, let alone for the six people currently occupying the tight place. Doctor van Bauren although present tended to blend in with her surroundings. Her stained lab coat and greying short crummy nest, she dared call a haircut, having the same colour as the walls, while her small frame made the woman nearly disappear behind her oak-imitation desk. By all accounts, Sandy should be in her late thirties, however, she appeared at least twenty years older, and that was if Konrad was being generous. A major part in this played the ancient thick-framed glasses which adorned her crooked nose. It was hard for him to accept that such a simple procedure of correcting the woman’s sight could have been botched so spectacularly. Because of it, Sandy’s once bright-green eyes, no looked clouded behind the large lenses of the spectacles. At the very least, Dr van Bauren considered herself lucky, that there were any glasses at all, left in the storage of Axion’s museum. As it stood now, the Lord Chancellor saw a wrinkled, puffy, shaved rat, where one of the brightest minds of the floating city sat.

But honestly, Konrad knew that he was way out of line judging the woman’s appearance, not with the large dark circles under his eyes and the sickly complexion he was inadvertently and unavoidably developing. Over the last couple of days, Lord Chancellor de Dragon had aged by at least a decade. Konrad had nearly called the guards when he failed to recognise his reflection in the mirror this morning. He wished to blame it all on the trouble brewed by the Chamber and the issue at hand, but it was mostly because of Jean. She had secluded herself at the University and refused to answer his calls, or at the very least send a note that she was alright. The civil unrest in that area had turned for the worse and the Ministry of Order was planning to mobilise. Actually, he was going to have a meeting with John-Paul Fontaine regarding this in an hour.

Speaking of the man, the career enforcers was glaring daggers at the Chief of the Reserve – Sean Alvaro. The two of them were the reason for Konrad’s angry outburst and even his authority as Lord Chancellor wasn’t enough to keep them silent for long. Especially when they were in the same room as the Head of Engineering Suleyman Nur. Those three, for better or worse, were always at each other’s throats, but it was thanks to that bickering that Axion had managed to survive for as long as it had during the latest crisis. However, there was a time and a place for everything and now was neither. It was time Konrad reminded them of this simple truth. His attention shifted from one person to the next, until it finally stopped on John-Paul. The veteran’s face twisted in a scowl, which was quite amazing, considering it gave the impression it was chiselled out of a single block of granite.

“I’m sorry, Lord Chancellor. I have no explanation,” the man’s thick baritone rumbled through the room like distant thunder, answering the question which was yet to be asked.

“If not you, General Fontain, then who? Who amongst you can tell me what is going on down there?!” Konrad growled with barely restrained anger, pointing at the small screen fixed on Sandy’s desk.

“As I tried to explain…”

“Let me stop you right there Mr Nur,” he rose his hand, feeling his heading increasing, “it was your assurance that there would be no problems with the equipment, that tipped the scales. If not for your word, I wouldn’t have put this plan in motion. So, unless your next words are an explanation of how we can contact the members of Obsidian, I don’t want to hear a sound out of you!”

The gaunt engineer kept his mouth open for a moment longer, before closing it and rubbing his greying beard. Whatever he wished to say, clearly fell in the category of things which would provoke Konrad to scream like a madman. Thankfully, Suleyman was smart enough to realise this and remained silent, looking for support from either Dr van Bauren or Sean, but neither was willing to throw themselves in his defence.

“Lord Chancellor,” Sandy began in a meek tone, a result of the same doubts he was feeling. More than anyone else the Doctor was aware of what awaited her, what awaited Axion, should the mission fail. “With all due respect, there are things outside of our control. No one, and I mean no one, could have predicted that there would be an electromagnetic storm of such magnitude.”

“If not for the reactor of the Docking Station, Axion’s shields would have collapsed by now and with them, every electronic device would have been fried,” Suleyman continued, grabbing the straw Sandy provided him. “It is a miracle that we can track their beacons.”

“Not a miracle, Suleyman,” Sean interjected while adjusting the sleeve of his formal jacket. “It’s all thanks to my Ministry’s efforts. If we hadn’t given you access to the Main Radio Tower,” the Chief of the Reserve shook his head, refusing to voice the poorly veiled threat.

“And by doing that, you’ve put my men in danger!” John-Paul rumbled, steering the conversation off-topic yet again. “During a time of Civil Unrest, the MRT is the sole property of the Ministry of Order. You had no right to lock us out of the system, Alvaro!”

“Enough!” Konrad slammed his fist on the desk. Every time, every single time, those people were more interested to screw their equals rather than work together. “If you’re so eager to speak, explain to me why have they split? Come on, you’re supposed to be an expert in tactics, General Fontain.”

“Wipe that smug smile off your face, Sean!” He snapped at the Chief of the Reserve. “Whatever possessed you to monopolise use of the Tower? Without asking me first? What am I supposed to tell the Chamber now?! Do you understand the bloody mess you’ve created?”

“The four of you might as well have convinced me to hold a live grenade,” Konrad continued after a moment during which his co-conspirators looked at him like children caught stealing an extra ration bar.

Seeing that none of them wished to speak, the Lord Chancellor took a deep breath and tried to put his thoughts in order. It was painfully obvious to him that there wasn’t going to be any explanation regarding the action of the expedition they’ve sent to the surface. Months of preparation, cover-up, training, analysis, and for what? For nothing or at least that was the conclusion Konrad reached.

“Eighty-three hours,” he murmured to himself absentmindedly.

“What?’ Suleyman was the first to ask in his usual stern tone.

“Eighty-three bloody hours!” Konrad pointed at the large screen mounted behind Dr van Bauren’s desk, which showed the vital signs of all the members of the expedition. “They left Véi Dron eighty-three hours and half of them are bloody dead!”

“Lord Chancellor, I told you from the start that not everyone was going to make it,” John-Poul shrugged, his face remaining emotionless. “As soldiers, they knew of the risks…”

“Soldiers! They’re bloody kids!” Konrad couldn’t stop his outburst as he slammed the desk with both hands. “We robbed them of their childhood and forced them to become adults! Turned them into proper unstoppable killing machines!” He spat back the words the General had uttered at the start of this insanity.

“You, all of you, told me that the surface was less dangerous now!” He continued, barely keeping control of the words that came out of his mouth. “Now that the Val Roux debacle is a memory, there would be nothing to oppose them! To stop them!”

“I was under the impression that Doctor van Bauren had informed you that the deaths of Obsidian 5 through 8 were unavoidable?” John-Paul looked sternly at the woman, a promise of reckoning in his eyes.

“They’re not numbers John-Poul! They have names! Constantine Kalas, Jasper DuVal, Samantha Faust and Simone de Jong! They are not some pieces of equipment you put into your logs!”

“No, Konrad!” It was the carrier military man to raise his voice. “That’s exactly what they are. And for the sake of your sanity, I implore you to think of them as such.”

His words were met by approving nods from both Sean and Suleyman, while Sandy remained silent, although the way she avoided looking at him, made it quite clear what she thought. The Doctor could talk all she wants about ethics, morals and how horrible it was what they did, but Lord Chancellor de Dragon had seen the excitement in her murky eyes when he approved the project. He had witnessed the glee with which she had entered the operating theatre, time after time, stopping only when her body screamed for rest.

Sure, it was Konrad who had proposed this horrible plan in the first place. It was he who had chosen Sandy van Bauren. However, was it really his idea, to begin with? In a rare occurrence, the Chief of the Reserve and the Head of Engineering had approached him of one mind, while Konrad evaluated the pros and cons of John-Poul’s original suggestion, that the Archive in Sector 7 surely contained sensitive codes and information regarding Axion. A topic which General Fontain was a little too eager to embrace. But the Lord Chancellor couldn’t wave their fears away, at least not at the time. Especially not when the spare parts they received from the Scavs at the surface Trading Station had clear Sector 7 markings. And then, before the hour had passed since they received the contact message from the facility there, John-Poul’s men had a picture of the Scavenger who had entered it. Admittedly a very distorted one, but a picture nonetheless. And then came Sandy with her whispers regarding Dr Varan’s Cybernetic Project. What else could Konrad do, but embrace the idea of sending an expedition to the surface?

You should charge them with treason, that’s what you should do, he thought to himself. And you’ll find yourself inside a prison cell faster than you can spell treason. Sure, in theory, the men and women working at the Ministry of Order were supposed to be loyal to him. In practice, however, Konrad knew that the majority of them listened only to General Fontain’s commands. It was the same with the people from the Reserve. Whenever he had business in that place, be it in his capacity as a Lord Chancellor or for a personal matter, the staff was always polite, cordial even. But they wouldn’t sign anything without obtaining Chief Alvaro’s approval first. That should leave Suleyman and his technicians and engineers as his only allays. However, without Mr Nur interpreting the technical jargon Konrad couldn’t exchange two words with them, and the Head of Engineering was a tough man to like. Pedantic, strict to a fault and as flexible as a steel pipe and that was in his free time. Of course, that was assuming Konrad could trust the man, to begin with. Which left him as Dr van Bauren as his only true allay, and what a sight the two of them would be when the brutes from the Ministry of Order come for him. A flimsy woman and a man who’s never been in a fight in his entire life. For sure they would strike fear in the hearts of the trained and experienced Enforcers.

No, this line of thinking was a dangerous one. Besides, it was too late for Konrad to claim the moral high ground. He should focus on his mind, his most powerful tool, on finding a solution. So far, they had wasted most of the emergency meeting running in circles, and time was not on their side. As if to emphasise this, the large screen flashed red and two more life signs went critical, with one stopping altogether. Another death and another name for Konrad to add to the list of his sins. He forced himself to look at the tag.

“Omar al Jafar,” the Lord Chancellor let out a tired sigh, feeling drained.

“If it’s any conciliation, his death was instant,” John-Poul offered with the tact of a pneumatic drill. “Unlike what awaits Obsidian 4… I mean Heather Martin,” the General was quick to add, after being nudged in the ribs by Suleyman.

“Something’s not right,” Dr van Bauren spoke in a shaking voice. “The spike in the readings wasn’t normal and would indicate medium to severe physical trauma, but his life sign shouldn’t have shut down. Look at Sergeant Martin’s, it goes indicates shock, severe to near-fatal trauma and every half a second becomes stable.”

“Interference from the storm? Could be a faulty sensor, although unlikely, if directly damaged they will return something like this,” Suleyman moved closer to the screen, looking closely at the displayed images. “I’ll have to run a few tests and simulations, but that’s what it looks like.”

“They could be alive?” Konrad whispered, too afraid to feel relief from what he was hearing.

Sandy shook her head and removed her glasses. “I’m sorry, Konrad. The hear-rate sensor is attached on the inside of the Manubrium, under the suprasternal notch, while the blood pressure one is on the inside of the Sternum. Oxygen, adrenaline, hormone and all the others are in the intercostal space.”

He blinked a few times trying to decipher the Doctor’s words. The Lord Chancellor was about to ask for her to explain it all in words he could understand when he saw John-Poul tap his chest with the tips of the fingers of his left hand.

“Whatever it is, has to go through to reach the tech,” the Minister of Order spelt it out quietly, almost gently.

“And we can rule out the electromagnetic storm as a culprit because the other sensors are normal.” As soon as the words left Suleyman’s mouth another name darkened as its signs stopped. “Or it could be the storm. I’ll have more for you later.”

“Hm,” John-Poul placed his meaty wrist over his mouth examining the screen with a little more interest now. “O4, O10 and now O12 Theodor Willow. All of them are from the group that deviated from the planned path. Interesting.”

“Enlighten me, General Fontain. How is another death interesting?” Konrad hissed not bothering to hind the disdain from his voice.

“Because,” the career soldier turned to face him, “it could explain why Obsidian split. Now, this is only a theory on my part, but it looks like the second group has been used as bait, to allow the main group to continue.”

“Used as bait!”

“John-Poul!” It was Sean’s turn to remind the General that he should choose his words more carefully.

“It’s equally likely that they might have volunteered. It’s hard to say. However, based on the latest analysis regarding their guide, I doubt that.”

“What makes you say that?” Konrad inquired, letting out the breath he had been holding. “Mr Alvaro’s analysis and the reports from your men on the surface, indicated that the Scavenger was very capable and came highly recommended by the people of Véi Dron.”

“As of this morning, we do have a better character profile of this Grey,” the Chief of the Reserve offered, passing an electronic reader in John-Poul’s hands. “Age between thirty and fifty, very capable and driven. Has played an important role in the creation of the Véi Dron community, but hasn’t taken a leadership position. Based on the analysis, reports from informants and Master Sergeant Mordrake, the Scavenger is anti-social, a loner and prone to extreme violence.”

“In short – a high-functioning sociopath.” Sean paused for a moment to let that sink in.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before we sent the kids to search for him!” Konrad exclaimed, feeling sick in his gut.

“Relax,” John-Poul interjected. “Pretty much everyone on the surface is classified as a sociopath by our standards.” The thing which he omitted was the fact that the analysis used the other Scavenger as a basis and not Axion’s standards. Something Konrad knew damn too well and had insisted upon. Nonetheless, the Lord Chancellor grasped the statement as a comfortable lie and embraced it as true, before returning his attention to Sean.

“This conclusion became obvious, after the info massive from the Master Sergeant. An additional conclusion that we’ve made based on the last report is that this Grey fellow possesses knowledge, training and experience that is far superior to that of the local population. This, combined with the statement that he might be military, let us conclude that the Scavenger doesn’t originate from Sector 4 or any of the neighbouring Sectors. And that he comes from a family with ties to the former Militaire d’Arrê. The possibility that he is a survivor from Val Roux is less than ten percent.”

“Is that everything?” Konrad asked once Chief Alvaro finished reading the summary of the report. “That’s not much more than what we had six months ago.”

“Our informants at the Trading Station haven’t been exactly what you’d call talkative.”

“Out of loyalty?” Suleyman shook his head at the absurdity of his question.

“More like out of fear,” Sean corrected him.

“If your report is accurate, I’d have to suggest that it’s a bit of both,” General Fontain crossed his hands over his wide chest after passing the reader to Sandy. “I’m sorry that I have to say this, Lord Chancellor, but you might want to consider allowing Dr Varan to move to the next stage of the Cybernetic Programme.”

“You can’t be serious!” Dr van Bauren jumped out of her chair.

“I bloody am,” John-Poul pushed her back down with one hand and turned to the Chief of the Reserve. “Tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Konrad demanded rather than asked.

Sean Alvaro let out a sigh in defeat. “The exact list of our food supplies has been leaked. During today’s session at the Chamber of Representatives, the party will demand that you adhere to the law and implement the Vermilion Lottery. The opposition will give you a way out, by blocking the motion, if…”

“If I offer an alternative solution.” The Lord Chancellor finished for him.

“You can’t allow this, Konrad! It’s madness!” Sandy screamed at him across the desk.

“Don’t you think I know that!” He snapped at the woman and sunk into his chair. Everything around him was crumbling. All of his efforts, hard work, and hopes were for nothing. It was painfully clear now why the Chamber hadn’t voted him out of office. They wished to sacrifice him and blame all of Axion’s problems on him. No matter his choice, Lord Chancellor Konrad de Dragon would remain in history as a complete and utter failure.

There was no mistake. The universe wanted her dead. Alexis could try to twist the evidence all she wanted, but this was the obvious conclusion. It was less than twenty-four hours and her life was threatened for the fifth time. As those thoughts occupied her tired mind, she continued to run. A difficult task to accomplish in the knee-deep marsh-like water. However, there was no chance that she would stop, not after that thing jumped from the shallows and tore into her captors. The sight of the nightmarish creature emerging from the darkish water and swiftly biting one of the boys’ head in a single snap of its massive jaws. Then another monstrosity emerged and tried to drag one of the girls under the surface. It was too soon to say if it was luck or misfortune that it had only torn her right leg at the knee. Without wasting time, the others sprung into action, but somehow to Alexis, it felt like ages passed between the scream of agony and the first pitiful shots.

The superheated beams ignited the oxygen and fused together the larger particles contaminating the air, turning them into microscopic projectiles, while they crossed the space between the laser rifles and the two monstrosities. This is what made laser-based weapons so dangerous and destructive. At least that was the theory behind how and why they inflicted terrible wounds even with a glancing hit. Instead, the beams bounced gently off the thick uneven hide of the two beasts, leaving tiny scorch marks behind. The pitiful attempt was enough to distract the nightmarish things, and her captors dragged the screaming girl before sprinting away as fast as their legs could carry them. They had been running for the last ten or twenty minutes, and Alexis was starting to lag behind. Even the person carrying the girl missing her leg was faster than her. In her haste to match their pace, Alexis stepped right into a submerged hole, plunging face-first in the disgusting mix of rotting plant matter, stale water, mud and the remains of people, which she was sure were there.

No! Not like this! She screamed inside her head as her arms slipped on the smooth mixture. Quickly panic gripped her, and she began to flail like a madman. Each jerky motion accompanied by an attempt to shout that only allowed her to learn that the taste of the foul water was far worse than she could ever imagine. The worst part was, that no one would probably notice that she was missing. After all, just like her, her captors would prioritise their lives. By the time any one of them stopped and looked around, Alexis would be nothing more than minced meat inside the monster’s stomach. Unless she drowned first. Although unnerving, the thought was surprisingly comfortable. There was one little problem, she wasn’t ready to die. That’s when she felt something pull on the back of her shirt. The young woman instinctively reached to undo the straps of her hazmat suit, only to remember that she had left the cumbersome suit during their last stop a few hours ago. All she had protecting her was the thin shirt, pants and sneakers which were a part of her schola uniform, and of course the borrowed rebreather unit that was strapped to her cloth belt. In other words, there was nothing for her to remove in order to escape.

It took Alexis a few seconds to realise that whatever had grabbed her, didn’t drag her back to become dinner, but had pulled her on her legs and was currently pushing her to move forward. Still trembling, she dared to open one eye just to see one of the boys shout in her face, a single blink later and the words reached her ears.

“Move, damn it!” She recognised the boy as the one which gave her the rebreather Theo or something like that.

“He told us to avoid the deep,” Alexis whimpered unable to recognise her own voice at first. “He told us…”

“Later!” The boy barked at her and stepped behind her lifting his rifle and firing. It was then she saw that it wasn’t two but four of the monsters chasing them. They were a good hundred meters behind her and a little to the left, no doubt near the deeper parts of the water. Without speaking, Theo pushed her with his back and this time Alexis understood what he meant in an instant. She dug her heels into the smooth mixture and started into a sprint. Just another thousand meters or so, and they would be out of the swamp-like area they’d wandered into. The only uncertain part was if she would make it in one piece.

“Shit!” She heard Theo curse behind her. “Something’s wrong with–” Suddenly his voice disappeared.

Alexis couldn’t fathom why she stopped and turned to see what happened to the boy. It might have been curiosity or to be sure that the monsters were still far behind her, but that’s what she did. The surfacer had slipped and had fallen into the water, his arm reaching out, pleading for help. He had stumbled right into a sinkhole or the like and all it would take to free him would be for her to grab his arm and pull. It wouldn’t take more than a second or two, there was enough time for her to save him. However, Alexis swallowed and bolted towards the other surfacers who were further away. It wasn’t because she wished for the boy’s death, despite having every reason to. After all, those people had ruined her monotones, boring, safe life in the bunker. Sure, Alexis had wished for some excitement or adventure, but nothing like this. No, she left him because she couldn’t trust her legs to move again. That’s what she told herself, as she willed more speed into her strides, all the while cursing the savage who had spared her life and condemned her to suffer in this place.