Chromed- Rogue Page 26

  The machine fired up with a rumble, the floor vibrating. Light refracted through the crystals, a cascade of beauty. The gate spoke with a woman’s voice. “Destination.”

  Sadie’s voice was soft with wonder. “I think it wants to know where to go.”

  “Destination,” agreed the gate machine.

  “Reed Tower,” said Mason.

  “Warning,” said the gate. “Reed Tower is property of the Reed Interactive Investments corporation. Entry into the Reed Tower Prime is in violation of the Syndicate Compact of—”

  “I get it,” said Mason. “Reed Tower. Right to the top.”

  “Acknowledged. Mapping. Structural anomalies detected. Proceed?”

  “Lock and load.” Mason waited, the machine clicking, a bubble spun like glass appearing in the air.

  Wind tugged at Sadie’s hair. “You don’t have to dive in again.”

  “Yeah.” Mason thought of the mighty weight of a syndicate crushing Laia. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Why?” Sadie took a step toward him. “Why can’t you just ride this one out?”

  “I made a promise.”

  “To who?” Sadie rested a hand on his arm. “Who’s worth dying for?”

  “You.” Mason stepped through the gate.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Mike looked into a fourteen-year-old’s eyes and knew fear.

  Fear wasn’t that unusual. Mike was used to it. It’s why he collected such a high percentage. Usually the fear came from facing other syndicate enforcers, company men and women living at the hard edges of the world. Civilization had cracks, and the kinds of people he fought grew in those dark places.

  She was just a kid. And she scared him.

  There was something bright and angry in her eyes as she reached for him.

  A minute earlier, things had seemed very different. The gunship screamed around the building, Sam yelling something biblical over the link, the chain gun carving a path.

  Haraway did something to the gate, and it fired up. The air bunched aside for a sparking globe, energy walking on jagged legs across its surface.

  Mike knew that wasn’t a good thing. Anywhere an asshole like Prophet could step from wasn’t likely to be a place of ice cream and puppies.

  The gunship’s chain gun rounds halted in the air. Zacharies let out an ugly laugh. The kid waved his hand, and the gunship crumpled in the middle, shedding metal and body parts to fall far below.

  Mike scrambled toward his sidearm. His armored glove smoked from the heat of the weapon, but he held it anyway, pointing it at… Well, shit. Who was he going to point it at?

  The gate at the front sparked, light bleeding from the sphere. It made his eyes hurt, expensive bionics and all. Mike looked at the gate, then at the sidearm, then at the gate again.

  The weapon glowed red. Mike’s hand trembled, trying to make the lattice hold it, to do something with it, before his glove burned, fingers of flame licking his fingers. He dropped it with a shout, the weapon smoking as the metal went white-hot. Mike looked up and saw the kid’s kid sister standing before him.

  The thing living in her eyes wasn’t her, and that’s when he knew a different flavor of fear.

  Her fingers hooked like claws, and he could feel, really feel as the blood inside him was grabbed by something alien and powerful.

  The sky crackled and roared, a second sphere opening above. It arced energy, scarring the sky. Mason Floyd fell from the gate into Reed tower. He landed easy, looked around, ignored Mike, and walked toward Prophet.

  The feeling of his blood being pulled vanished, Mike’s heart stuttering. He looked at Mason’s back.

  Angel, huh? Well, I’ll be.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Mason walked toward the man at the front of the room. He’d faced this asshole once before at The Hole. They had unfinished business. Mason took in the dreamy expression on Haraway’s face and the dais held up by people. Laia and Zacharies waited, still as statues. Mike looked like he’d seen better days.

  Mason pointed at the asshole. “You have some serious issues.”

  “Welcome, Mason Floyd. I am Prophet.” The asshole looked down on Mason, wearing the same expression those who thought themselves better used on a daily. “You’d kill them all?”

  Mason paused mid-stride. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Make no mistake. Every one of them will burn their life out defending me from you.”

  “It’s how you cunts work, isn’t it? It’s hard to kill your enemy when it’s a sock puppet that used to be a friend. Or a lover.”

  “Or family.” Prophet smiled without humor. “Keep coming. It makes no difference to me. There are always more families. They’ll all die in front of you. Starting with this one.”

  Prophet raised a hand. Mason felt a motion through the lattice. Zacharies’ eyes were blank as he lifted both arms, and Laia screamed as she was tossed through the air to land at Prophet’s feet.

  Prophet smiled again. “She thinks you are an angel.”

  “Yeah. But I’m not.”

  “Then what can you do?” Prophet laughed, the sound a bark of incredulity. “I know the shape of your world. I have seen it in the weak minds of the simple fools you let rule you. You’re just a man. You have machines that work for you, but for all that you’re small. Greedy. Easy.”

  Mason walked forward. “I’m only human.”

  “Stop.” Laia jerked upright, a puppet on strings. “Stop, or I kill her. Or I get her to kill you.”

  The gate behind Prophet snapped and trembled. Mason felt his ears pop as the pressure changed. Through the gate he could see a night sky, sand, and standing figures blurred to obscurity by the haze of energy. Mason pointed his sword at Prophet. The edge was red and wet. “If you think you can.”

  Prophet closed his eyes. “Ah. You think you can make it to me. Cut me down as she kills you.”

  “Something like that.”

  Laia rounded on Mason. When she spoke, her voice was all hard edges, malice wrapped in hate. “Then you will fall, angel.”

  Mason kept walking. “Laia?”

  She answered with a sneer.

  “Laia, it’s okay.” Mason looked down at the sword. “I don’t know if you can hear me. It’s not your fault.”

  Recollection darted across her face. “Mason?”

  “Yeah. It’s me.” Mason was a few paces from her.

  “You’re not an angel.” The hard edge was back in her voice.

  “No. I’m something else.”

  “What are you?” Her lips curled in derision.

  “I’m the only guy who’ll never ask you for anything you don’t want to give.” Mason smiled. “I’m your friend.”

  Prophet’s grip on her broke and he stumbled back. Laia’s face cleared like the dawn, and she whirled on her old master.

  “If not this way,” gasped Prophet, “then the other. You can kill her.”

  He’d had the crushing vice on his mind before. Mason cried out, almost stopping. But there was a kid he needed to help, and he’d been in pain before.

  “You aren’t ready for this.” Prophet’s voice loomed in his mind. Every word cut like a blade. “Your world is weak. You are weak.”

  Mason fell to one knee, then pushed himself back up. Yeah, asshole?

  The voice returned, twice as strong, twice as much pain. Mason screamed as Prophet spoke. “You will do what I want. You’ll want to serve me. After you’ve killed her, you’ll bathe in her blood.”

  The sword in his hand trembled and he almost dropped it. Mason thought of black lipstick and promises.

  I don’t need you to say anything. I’m just telling you how it is.

  No one will touch her because I owe her.

  The memory hit him hard. No one included Mason Floyd. He wouldn’t touch her. The lattice snarled at Prophet, and the other man’s eyes widening in surprise. His voice spoke in Mason’s mind again, words falling like razorblades. “You think motivated people haven’t st
ood before me?” Mason could almost hear the laugh. “It’s why we have tools.”

  Prophet lifted his arms, and it felt like the air rushed toward Mason. It ran up the building, clouds and rain dragged inside. “The tools we use are spirits. Demons, if you like. This one is mine, and its will is infinite.”

  Something curled around Prophet, a soft fog, a gentle glow, then the hammer hit Mason’s mind and he screamed and screamed and screamed…

  The pain was the world. A single promise dangled. The pain could stop, if he picked up his sword and ran the girl through.

  It’d be easy. Then he’d stop hurting. The world would keep spinning. One life hardly shifted the scales. It wasn’t a balancing act. It was pragmatism.

  Hell, the promise said. There’ll be a bonus in it. Just do this one little thing.

  And the pain went on, and on, and on.

  We’re here, you and I, said the promise.

  We’ll be here a long, long time. This moment is caught, a fly in amber, and you’re never getting out. Not until we’re done.

  Just kill the girl. You’ve done worse things. What about that family from Queens? Intellectual property squatters, and you finished them off.

  That was easy. This will be easier. Give it up, said the promise. Use the sword.

  Mason could feel the edge of the blade a purpose he could lean on. His hand wanted to swing it, to run the girl through. She was in his way, God damn it, in his way, and if he pushed her aside—

  I fixed you.

  He could hear Carter’s voice, lost code in the lattice.

  They didn’t think about how beautiful you are, Mason.

  But he’d killed that family in Queens. And so many others. There was the man who tried to start a business in biodiesel. He’d been too quick to laugh. He’d died. Mason had made it look like a gang shooting, the Federate hidden with an easy lie.

  I’m not beautiful, Carter.

  The promise nodded and smiled. It knew. It knew. It saw the ugly of him.

  I saw it. And you’re so damn beautiful.

  What about the woman who’d run into that coffee shop to get away from him? She’d sprinted down the street, purse, lipstick, and an old phone scattering from her handbag. Christ, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d left her lying there when he’d recovered the package from her body, bright red smears on the outside of the box.

  It made me weep.

  The pain went on, and on, and the promise yanked, savage now. You think this will end, company man? This never ends. Not until the girl is dead.

  The lattice is in you now, it’s a part of you. It’ll be faster, smoother, and cleaner. It won’t fight you. It’ll do what you want, when you want it to. You want to pull Harry out of another fire? You won’t have to make it do that.

  Mason held onto the lattice. Carter’s last, greatest gift. He asked it to reach into the fire.

  It nodded at him and stood up.

  “No,” gasped Prophet. “It’s not possible.”

  Mason spat bile and stepped forward. The lattice held him up and apart from the pain. He felt it walk his legs forward. It was slow, cumbersome, his feet feeling bigger and heavier than they should.

  Prophet screamed at him, grabbing Laia by the back of her jacket. He spared one more glance for the room then stepped through the gate.

  Mason looked around. The other gate from the Federate tower stood in the sky above. He saw Sadie fall through, her arms windmilling before Mike caught her.

  He saw Zacharies, the kid’s eyes wide, start toward the dais. Mason held up a hand. “I’ve got this one.”

  “He’s going to—”

  “I’ve got it.” Mason looked around the room, the lattice steady.

  His eyes locked with Sadie’s, saw her realize it just as he knew himself. “Mason—”

  “Don’t forget me.” Mason stepped through the gate to another world. Once he was through, he turned back, lifted the Tenko-Senshin, and fired it into the machinery on the other side of the gate.

  The light stuttered and failed, the gate snapping shut behind him. He looked around. Red dust and sand lay everywhere. Two moons watched from the sky above. Mason stood on the face of a dying planet and looked at five men, a teenage girl at their feet.

  Mason smiled. “Nice night, fellas?”

  Prophet spoke first. “Why are you smiling?”

  “You haven’t worked it out?” Mason broke into a laugh. “Gate’s gone. No way out. You’re trapped here.” Mason waited for them to appreciate the situation, and when they didn’t, he said, “With me.”

  He lifted his sword, the edge already red and wet. He only took six perfect steps. The lattice sang until it was done.

  Mason held out his hand to Laia. “C’mon.”

  “Where are we going?” She looked uncertain, eyes shying away from the bodies.

  Mason shrugged. “Wherever you need to go.”

  Laia frowned. “I don’t know where to start. There’s so much to be done.”

  “That’s fine. We’ve got a little time.” Mason slicked blood from the edge of the sword, slipping the Tenko-Senshin into its holster.

  “I want to save the world.” Laia pointed across the sand. “We start there.”

  “Why that spot of sand in particular?”

  “It’s where my family died.”

  Mason nodded, the lattice agreeing. “Let’s get started, then.”

  Laia took his hand. They started into the desert, the red sand dry and cool under the light of two moons.

  Carter would be so proud.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mike stepped toward the dais. The men and women under it struggled, looking like they’d just woken from a bad dream. He padded over to Zacharies. “She’ll be okay.”

  “I know,” the kid said. “Can we get it open?”

  Mike looked at the machinery smoldering on the dais. That little weapon Floyd used was really something. He’d like to get it back to the eggheads in the lab, see what they could make of it. Maybe make one of his own. “Haraway, how long until we can get the gate open?” There was no response. Mike looked at the men and women pulling themselves from under the dais. His optics found a crumpled form through the confused milling. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

  He stepped around the parts of the floor on fire, over to Haraway’s body. It looked like a stray round hit her, blood soaking through the white of her coat.

  Sadie stood by Mike’s side. “Oh.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Sadie rounded on him. “That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Well,” Mike spread his hands, “it’s bad, but we’ve still got you, and the kid—”

  “No.” Sadie shook her head, a sharp angry motion. “No!”

  “I don’t get it. I didn’t think you two got on.”

  “We didn’t agree on everything,” agreed Sadie. “Sure, that’s fair.”

  “Then what is it?” Mike blinked. “I mean, I’m exposed here. We lost a part of the package. The deal.”

  Sadie turned away, looking at Zacharies. “I’m no company scientist—”

  “Clearly.” Mike clicked his link on. “Sam? We’re going to need an evac.”

  “On it,” she said. “Is my next gunship gonna get blown out of the sky?”

  “Not likely. I give you a good, solid eighty percent chance of making it in here.”

  “Right.” The link snapped out. Mike spat the taste of mint from his mouth, the overtime winding down.

  “It’s like this.” Sadie pointed at the remaining gate above them, a hole back to the Federate. “That thing?”

  Mike gave it a good look. “It’s a gate.”

  “Yeah. They need coordinates.”

  “Still with you,” said Mike.

  “Who in this room knows the coordinates to a different planet?” Sadie looked around. “Anyone?”

  Mike looked at her, then to Zacharies, then to Haraway’s body. “Oh.”

  Sadie brushed a tear from her eye. “
Goddamn it!”

  Zacharies looked at Mike. “We can get Laia back, can’t we Mike?”

  A gunship scudded in, shoving rain and smoke aside. It shed extraction harnesses on long loops of mylar cord, lifelines to the sky. Mike reached for a harness. “Kid? I’m working on it. Can we get the hell out of here first?”

  The link stuttered, Sam on the other end. “There’s a call coming in.”

  “A call?” The link cleared up, the interference in the air gone. Quiet, like it should be. “Who the hell’s calling?”

  “Says his name’s Fuentes. A conversion. Works for the Federate.”

  “Why do we care?” Mike snapped the cable onto Zacharies, giving a thumbs-up to the men above, and watched the kid reel into the sky.

  “He shut down Reed’s reactor.”

  “That was him?” Mike made to attach Sadie’s harness.

  She pushed him away. “Hands off.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  She grabbed the cable from him. “That’s right. It’s not.”

  Mike watched her rise to the sky. “Sam?”

  “Yeah.” She sounded bored. “Can we hurry this along? I’ve got a party tonight.”

  “Sorry if this whole life-and-death thing is getting in the way of your social life.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  Mike sighed, clipping himself to a wire. “What’s he want?”

  “He needs a job. He fought his way into a highly fortified syndicate HQ, shot the place up, and took out the main reactor by himself. Or something. I don’t know. It looks good on the CV. Does it have the same ring when I say it out loud?”

  “Yeah, it sounds good. Bring in some heavy lift gear.”

  “What about the assholes at the bottom of the tower?”

  Mike dragged himself into the gunship, looking down as the aircraft slid away from the tower. His optics zoomed on the crowd below, people milling around. But they were moving like people again, not doped up crazies. “I don’t know. Looks like a job for PR.”