Alixander Fey
Member
|
4.
The alarm pulsed, blared, screeched for his attention. Jason pressed his temples and rolled over. Light poured from the open window, illuminating the room and the clock: 1035. He cursed and slid out of bed, then pulled on a pair of pants and stumbled into the kitchen.
Ashley sat at the table, shoveling eggs while she read a Spanish newspaper. She jumped when he entered the room. “Are you gonna put clothes on?”
He looked at her, looked at his bare chest, and shrugged. Then he scoured the cabinet for a box of cereal and sank into a chair by the table. She had left a bowl and spoon out for him. He poured the cereal and the milk, then said after a few bites, “Today’s the day.”
“The plant?” She lowered the newspaper.
“The office complex beneath it. We can’t get any more intel without giving ourselves away. I’d rather have the element of surprise than a map of the building.”
Ashley shrugged and scooted the chair back. “I’ll get the computers ready.”
“Nine o’clock tonight. Take the Honda and go into town. You need to relax.”
“What about you?”
Jason stared hard at his cereal. “I am relaxing. Don’t worry about me.” She disappeared into her bedroom, leaving him alone with his cereal, her dirty dishes, and the newspaper. None of the front page stories caught his interest. Rape gangs and drug traffic were dwarfed by the presence of a bioweapons lab six miles down the road.
When Ashley left, he returned to his room and retrieved his briefcase. He spilled its contents on the table and rifled through the contents. He had detailed files on each of the failed Project Oracle subjects, character evaluations of the subjects awaiting treatments, and a report on his own case.
Why am I the only survivor? Everyone else who took T-r46 died before the third treatment could be administered. Third of what? he wondered. I’ve taken five. How many treatments until the change is permanent? He also noted that every other subject was like him—a time shift. Project Oracle included no force or mind shifts. Why?
So many questions, and no answers. But he knew—
They’re preparing me for something bigger.
Project Shift began with mind shifts, and grew to force shifts. Time shifts like himself were a triumph of the late 90s. Now they’re taking it father with Project Oracle. He found no evidence of anyone trying to give a force or mind shift both sides of the gift.
So why him? And why the name—Oracle?
Oracles are like seers. Responsible for prophecy and prediction. Spiritual leaders; mystic authorities. Is it a play on words?
He felt like a demigod. The combination of Push and Pull made him unstoppable. Even Naomi hadn’t brought him down. Although their fight had been short. Is that was Oracle was about? Making him a master of time?
He dropped the files and his notes and rubbed his temples. His headaches were returning, each stronger than the one before it. Last night’s had been especially bad. Ashley wanted him to go to a doctor, but he had been careful about going out in the day. Americans attracted too much attention here. Jason wondered if that was related to the plant outside the town.
Finding a scrap of yellow paper, he wrote—Find source material. Scientists and theories that led to Oracle. Then he returned his notes to the briefcase and packed it.
Guns needed cleaning. The truck had blown a tire and needed a replacement. With a wry grin he remembered his coat needed dry cleaning. His washer couldn’t remove blood stains.
Oh, and—the house needed to explode.
5.
I need a distraction.
Jason saw his reflection in the revolving door as he passed through it: black suit, patterned sweater and bright gold tie, all covered in a flowing trench coat that clinked almost imperceptibly. He could have passed for a rich businessman, if only he had sunglasses.
Six security guards occupied the office lobby. And they were white, not Mexican. Above the three elevator doors hung the sign ARCHIVE PHARMACEUTICAL. One the guards nodded and directed him towards the metal detector. “I’ll need you to take your coat off, sir,” he said as soon as Jason approached.
The man in black smiled. Then he Pushed and crushed the guard’s throat with a punch. Before the other guards could react he Pulled hard and drew his pistol. Four shots; four corpses. Then he leapt over the desk and grabbed the last man by the back of the neck. He Pushed his face through the glass protecting the red button marked ALARM.
Jason smiled. A distraction.
6.
“Turn left, third door on the right.”
Jason clicked the radio twice and followed Ashley’s direction. The alarm had driven the security guards frantic but they were all concentrated on the upper floors. He had free reign of this lower level.
The door Ashley suggested opened to a deep stairwell. When he peered over the edge he saw nothing but black. “How far is it?”
Static as her fingers worked the computer. “Five levels. This place is deep. It must be one of Archive’s biggest offices.”
Jason remembered that office cubicles and filing cabinets had ended two levels ago. This entire floor was an armory. He Pushed and sprinted down the stairs, his hyper-fast feet making little noise against the metal steps. He reloaded his pistols and kicked through the door at the bottom of the well.
Two guards waited for him, machine guns trained on the door. Bullets sprayed towards him as soon as the door swung open.
Reacting on instinct, Jason Pushed and dodged to the right. One of the guards followed his motion, finger firm on the trigger. Backed against the wall, he had no choice but to Pull.
The bullets rolled towards him, two towards his shoulder, one towards his gut, and three towards his leg. Bending back, Jason slipped below the first bullet; then he rolled on one foot to dodge the second. The next two came simultaneously, so he back-flipped, pressed his feet against the wall and—Pushed.
He rocketed towards the closest gunner, fist first. With a sickening squelch he pierced the man’s chest, then wrenched his hand away and Push-kicked the corpse. His broken body toppled into the second gunner.
Jason leapt forward, Pulling while the second man recovered. He wrenched back on time, almost stopping his motion in midair. The effort brought the headaches back.
The guard almost had his gun trained on Jason but his Pull gave him the advantage. One foot knocked the rifle away and the other foot sliced into his neck. The man choked and grasped his throat, then staggered back. Jace snapped his leg at the kneecap.
Letting time flow its normal course, Jason staggered towards the room’s only door. His head throbbed from temple to temple, but he couldn’t stop to rest. He holstered one pistol and opened the door.
Beyond that door lay a bank of computers and smart boards mounted on the wall. The screens showed DNA stands, pixilated representations of blood plasma, and numbers. Three or four of the office lackeys glanced up when he arrived, but none of them moved to stop him.
Jason walked to the first desk. The man there hunched over his computer, manipulating a three dimensional representation of a DNA strand. Leaning over his shoulder, he asked, “What are you doing?”
He expected his question to shock the man. Instead, he turned calmly to Jason and said, “Trying to isolate what about your DNA makes you strong enough to handle T-r46. All our other patients have died.”
Jason fingered the trigger. The lackey’s calm façade dissipated and his chin trembled. “They said you wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man.”
He clenched his fist around the grip. “You’re one of the monsters.”
The lackey swallowed. “I’ve never hurt anybody.”
“You spend your life making human bioweapons.” He clutched the trigger and pulled. When the red spray faded the man collapsed against his desk.
His radio hazed with static. “Jason. I’ve lost you. Can you hear me?” Before he could reply the room erupted in screams as the office workers fled out the two narrow doors. He cupped his hands against his ears.
“I hear you. Anything on the building?”
“Nothing. My schematics say you’re in a empty warehouse, with only one entrance and no exists.”
His gaze darted across the room. “Schematics are flawed,” he said. “Tampered with for security.”
“Right. I’ll monitor communications. The mess you made up here is clearing itself up.” The radio clicked out and Jason examined the computer screen before him.
These people are studying my DNA.
Then he checked the next station. It held a character analysis and a record of his last known locations. The third station: medical data and diagrams of his body, his muscles, and his nervous system.
These people are studying me!
He rushed to the doors and into the next room. It was frenzied, as papers and printouts swirled and chairs toppled and tables screeched against the floor.
But in the middle of the room, raised over a white dais, was a holographic image of him, naked.
One man stood rigid amidst the chaos. He wore slacks and a dress shirt, with a blue tie loosened at the neck. His rolled sleeves revealed thick, powerful arms.
No one moved to stop Jason as he approached the silent man. With a wry grin the man watched him; a vein just below his hairline bulged unnaturally. "Jason Wright," he said when he was within ear shot.
Jason cocked his gun and said nothing.
"Welcome to my lab." The man crossed his arms. "Your lab, really. This is the Jason Center."
He swallowed and glanced around. "The Jason Center?"
The man motioned to the holographic image behind him. "As you can see, you are our main subject of study."
"Why me?"
"You survived the treatments. No one has ever survived the treatments."
He leveled a pistol. "Why? What makes me different?"
"That's what we're trying to find out. Of course, our samples are sadly lacking. We need DNA samples from each stage of the stim's development. And we have nothing from the last stage--after your fifth treatment. Naomi said you've had final treatment. How long ago--two weeks? A month?"
Jason lowered the gun. "A month."
"Nosebleeds? Or just headaches?"
He said nothing.
"Surely no blood from your ears?"
"Headaches."
The man laughed. "Then you have plenty of time. If you give us a few days to take blood samples, I can make the headaches go away."
"How?"
"T-x1, of course. The purpose of the Oracle Project."
"What will it do to me?"
The man threw his head back and laughed.
"Will I see the future?"
He laughed louder, so loud it hurt. "Can a fish see water, Jason? Not while it's swimming in the ocean. You can't see time. Not while you're swimming in it."
He wrenched the guns up again. "Then what is it?"
The man stopped and extended a beckoning hand. "Come with me, Jason. In three days, the headaches will disappear." The words echoed and rebounded inside his head, then repeated themselves in a seductive whisper: Come with me.
Jason clenched both hands against his temples and thought: Mind Pushing! This man was a shift, Pushing thoughts into Jason's head.
Before he could fire his pistols Jason heard a low growl. Then a dark figure charged him from the corner of the room. Jason Pulled and dodged the attack, then observed his foe. The man was naked, nearly seven feet tall, and covered in Stygian fur. His eyes were all yellow, with a splotch of black in the center and no whites on the edge. His fingernails and teeth grew inches long, and looked more metallic that natural.
A bioweapon! Jason thought. I thought Ferals were old technology.
The mind Push remained motionless but the veins in his forehead bulged. Jason wondered if he was Pushing the Feral. Then, before he could examine the question further, the creature-man charged again.
Jason Pulled and ducked beneath the Feral's blow. He Puhed his fist, but the blow didn't break skin, much less pierce organs. He Pulled, flipped over the creature, and leveled handguns. Bullets dug into its hairy flesh but no blood spurted.
The Feral swiped low, then thrust its neck forward. Jason squirmed away but the creature sank teeth into his side.
With a scream, Jason collapsed to the floor.
The mind shift laughed, then Pushed his pet back to his side. While he stroked the creature's fur, he said, "Tell me, Jason. Can you Push bullets yet?"
He screamed in rage and fired his pistols, but the Feral absorbed the blasts easily. The shift smiled and clasped both hands behind his back. "We always take care of our own, Jason. Since the day you kidnapped our star employee, we have worked tirelessly to find her. Mr. Smith would like me to thank you for bringing her to us."
On cue, Ashley's voice sounded over the radio. "Jason, something's coming. It's... It's huge."
The mind Push smirked and disappeared through one of the doors. His Feral panted and followed, blood dripping from his teeth.
Jason turned back towards the stairs and Pushed.
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
