David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“So what are you telling me? The fight’s over before it begins? Are they unbeatable?”

“No. You do have a number of advantages. First, their flight technology is nowhere near as capable as yours. Their wings are made from woven carbon nanotubes, which make them extremely strong while still allowing for them to fold, but, in the end, they are a poor substitute for any wings in nature. The microjet engines only have twenty minutes of thrust capability before they run out of fuel. Also, they’re heavy, severely limiting the super soldiers’ maneuverability.”

“How does extra maneuverability help me if I can’t engage them in a dog fight?”

“It doesn’t. However, you won’t be engaging them. When we were interacting with them on the Titanic , I noted another major design flaw. There don’t appear to be any rear-facing cameras on their equipment, which means they are blind to anything above them while they are in flight. If you come at them from on high and hit them with an electromagnetic pulse, you’ll shut down all their computer and electrical systems.”

“Including their jets?”

“Yes, but not only that. Their cybernetic prosthetics will also stop functioning, including their eyes.”

Craig’s lips pulled back into a grin. “Beautiful. So they’ll be blind, flying torsos weighed down by hundreds of pounds of equipment. I love it.”

The towers emerged on the horizon with black smoke billowing high above them.

“Okay. Let’s come in high,” Craig said.

“With your permission, I think I’m best suited for executing this maneuver.”

“Agreed,” Craig replied. “Go for it.”

They began to gain altitude quickly, New York shrinking below them as they climbed, high above the smoke.

“We should be right above them now,” the A.I. observed, “but I can’t detect them as of yet. We’re going to have to come down hard and fast to maximize our chances of catching them by surprise. Brace yourself.”

Craig smiled. “Trust me. I’ve come down harder and faster before.”

“We’ll see,” the A.I. replied an instant before they began their descent, blasting down toward the World Trade Center site.

Craig gritted his teeth as they picked up speed and the grid of city blocks quickly grew larger. He suddenly wished he hadn’t boasted to the A.I. as he stifled a scream.

“I’ve got them,” the A.I. announced as he simultaneously released electromagnetic energy pulses that sped downward toward the three specks that continued to circle the Twin Towers.

“Good eyes,” Craig commented as he marveled at the A.I.’s ability to detect the three tiny objects below them. “Did you hit them?”

“Of course,” the A.I. replied. “They’re in dire straights now. We’ll have to guide them to safety.”

“I don’t think so,” Craig countered. “Let’s see how they manage on their own.”

“They may die,” the A.I. cautioned.

“That’s a damn shame,” Craig replied as he watched the three Purists, now less than 100 meters below him, struggling to keep their altitude. They flew in formation, desperately trying to reach the rooftop of Building 7 of the World Trade Center complex.

“Can you live with this?” the A.I. asked.

“They just killed 2,000 on the Titanic and tried to kill thousands more here—yeah, I can live with it.”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, one of the three Purists began to quickly lose control. The left wing dipped slightly, and though the super soldier was able to quickly correct it and level out, the lost inertia caused the heavy glider to go into a tailspin. Craig watched the man drop down, tumbling uncontrollably over fifty stories.

Meanwhile, the other two stricken super soldiers were able to guide themselves over the edge of the rooftop, crashing uncontrolled onto the gravel surface.

Craig heard the voice of Colonel Paine as he groaned in agony. Craig sneered.

“Set me down,” Craig told the A.I. As instructed, the A.I. set Craig down on the rooftop only a few paces away from the two remaining crippled super soldiers. He stepped toward Paine, who had rolled onto his side, his prosthetic limbs awkwardly crossed in front of him.

“Is that you, Doc?” Paine said in a voice barely more than a whisper. A trickle of blood-stained saliva dangled from his bottom lip. “I can’t see, Doc. I went blind. I had to guide myself down to where I’d seen this rooftop an instant before everything went black. Did my men make it?”

“One of them,” Craig confirmed as he looked over to Degrechie’s crumpled form. He was glad that it had been Drummey who’d crashed.

“Which one?”

“Degrechie.”

Paine’s face screwed up into an ugly expression; Craig wasn’t sure if it was from a sudden stab of physical pain or genuine remorse about his fallen comrade. “Damn it, Doc. Damn it.”

Craig shook his head and looked across to the billowing smoke that was still pouring out from the Twin Towers. “How’s it look?” he asked the A.I. “Will it survive this time?”

“It appears so,” the A.I. replied. “The Purists must have exhausted their explosives sinking the Titanic . The damage done to the Twin Towers appears to be mostly superficial.”

Craig sighed with relief. “Finally. Something goes my way.”

“However,” the A.I. continued, “there were doubtless casualties when they began unloading their weapons into the tower in their attempts to destroy it. We can only hope this was somewhat mitigated by the early hour.”

Craig nodded regretfully before crouching down next to Paine. “What were you thinking? Was all of that just to lure me here?”

Paine shook his head as he continued to struggle for breath. It took him a moment before he could speak. “I knew what you’d do. I knew you’d head to the airport. There was no way we could stop you. All we could do was try to bring the buildings down ourselves.”

“Why?” Craig asked, exasperated. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Doc…” Paine began, shaking with the effort to speak, “…you don’t belong here. You’re not of this universe. Those towers were meant to fall. You don’t have the right to interfere.”

Disgusted, Craig stood to his feet. “All right. Now what?” he asked the A.I.

“We have options,” the A.I. informed. “We can either find the Planck the Purists used to enter this universe and continue on our journey as Aldous intended—”

“Whoa! Wait a second there,” Craig interrupted. “I thought you said we couldn’t alter our course, but now you’re saying we can?”

“Not exactly,” the A.I. replied. “What I am saying is that the Planck platform the Purists used on the Titanic , the one we procured from them to travel to our current location, is an older model. While it is perfectly safe, it isn’t as powerful and has a smaller range. If the Purists are to be believed and Professor Sanha Cho is really helping them, then it was he who activated their Planck and set it on a course to match us with a range of three parallel universes. After the third universe, it will only have enough power to bring the Planck back to Universe 1.”

“Our universe? Home?”

“Correct.”

Craig slapped his hands together excitedly. “Well hot-diggity! We’re in business then!” He reached down and grabbed Paine by the back of his jacket before dragging him across the roof so he could do likewise to Degrechie. “Let’s get to it,” he said as he lifted off the roof of the building and began flying toward the short-range Planck platform.

“Indeed, but Craig, remember that Aldous wanted us to remain in the bulk, traveling from universe to universe so we could avoid detection and return when it was safer. If we return ahead of schedule, we are sure to encounter—”