Stephen Baxter - Flood

But pandemonium filled the stadium. The rebels were still pouring in through the tunnels, and the AxysCorp troops were struggling to figure out what was going on, to get into position.

And now there was a charge by a handful of men in bright Inca costumes. They cut through the AxysCorp lines, heading straight for Lammockson’s party. Piers screamed orders, and the AxysCorp troops responded, lined up and fired. Inca types fell, but they fired back.

Lily heard a round hiss past her ears. She threw herself to the ground. “Down! Get down!”

The engine roar intensified. Lily squirmed and looked around. From a circle of people lying flattened like corn stalks in a gale, one of Nathan’s helicopters was lifting into the sky. She saw a bullet ping off its hull, leaving a dent in its armor, but it rose smoothly, and Nathan Lammockson was already gone. The other bird still stood on the ground, the blades turning vigorously. Everybody was down on the ground- everybody but Amanda, Lily saw with horror.

Amanda was standing up, looking bewildered. She called her daughter’s name, over and over: “Kristie! Kris!”

Juan Villegas, on the ground himself, plucked at her arm. “Amanda, for God’s sake-”

Her forehead exploded, red-black blood and tissue fanning out in front of her face. For a second she stood, trembling. Then she fell, limbs loose, tumbling to the ground.

Lily got to her knees and crawled toward her sister, through the noise of the chopper, the screaming, the shots. “Amanda!”

Piers Michaelmas lunged across the ground and hit her with a rugby tackle around the waist, forcing her flat on her belly.

Lily struggled. “Let me go!”

Piers held her down. “It’s too late for her.”

She balled her fist and punched him in the mouth, but still he wouldn’t let go. “You prick, Piers. So much for your siege defense. It didn’t last five minutes.”

“Listen to me. Just listen,” he shouted over the noise. “You can see what’s happened. We’ve been betrayed.”

“Who by?”

“Hammond Lammockson. It was always a risk not to hunt him down after he absconded. He betrayed his own father-gave Ollantay plans of the stadium, the military preparation, got him through the gates.”

“Then it’s finished.”

“No.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “The city is lost. Nathan’s out of here already. You can say what you like about him but he’s decisive. And that second chopper is going in a few minutes.”

“Going where?”

“The Ark at Chosica, I think. That’s still well defended. We’ve a chance to be on it, you and I. But he’s given me a mission.”

“To do what?”

“Bring in Hammond.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. You know Nathan: blood’s thicker than water. Hammond’s already in the stadium, with the rebels. Ollantay has the advantage of surprise, but these aren’t trained military units. A handful of us ought to be able to get through, retrieve Hammond, and make sure Ollantay is down.

“Listen to me, Lily. This is our chance. Kristie is there, and her kid. We think they’re close to Ollantay-well, they must be. There’s nothing you can do for Amanda now. But if you want to save her daughter-”

She didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Take these.” He took a handful of lightweight gas masks from his pocket, shook them so they folded out into shape. “Put one on. We should be safe, it’s the Quechuas who are targeted by Nathan’s ethnic weapons, but-”

“Nathan wouldn’t do it.”

He pointed upward. “He already is.”

Looking up, she saw that the chopper in the air was venting a yellowish gas. Heavier than the air, it descended quickly. The chopper banked and circled, spreading its gas throughout the stadium.

“Shit,” Lily said. She pulled a mask over her face.

“Quite. And take another. Kristie should be immune. But her kid-”

As Ollantay’s son, Manco might be half Quechua. “All right.”

A party of AxysCorp soldiers got to their feet and ran past Piers and Lily toward the rebel concentrations, yelling through their own gas masks, guns blazing.

“That’s our cue,” Piers yelled. “Come on!”

He hauled her to her feet. Reaching for the handgun at her back, she staggered after the troops, Piers dragging at her arm.

The rebels were numerous, but they were a mob, ill-trained, most of them lacking any sense of formation and discipline. And now that the Quechua leaders were falling, choking as the yellow gas filled their lungs, panic was setting in even amongst those who must be immune to the ethnic-specific toxin.

The AxysCorp squad cut through this rabble like an arrow-head burrowing into flesh, leaving a trail of dead and wounded. Lily, hurrying behind the squad, could see how many of the fallen wore remnants of western clothing, even battered AxysCorp-mark garments. They must have been the citizens of Walker City, Americans like her own father’s family, stranded as far from home as she was, and dying here today.

It wasn’t hard to find Ollantay in his golden helmet, his proud Inca plumage. As those around him fell, choking, their swollen tongues sticking out of their mouths, he stood unaffected with his AK47 raised and spitting fire, until the AxysCorp squad overwhelmed him and got his weapon out of his hands. A couple of the AxysCorp guards dragged Hammond Lammockson to his feet. He had been trying to hide among the Quechua corpses.

And here was Kristie, kneeling on the ground, her boy clasped to her chest. Lily hurried to her with the mask.“Put this on him, Kristie-do it!”

Kristie stared at her, eyes wide with shock. But she took the mask and, with trembling hands, looped it over the boy’s head and pulled its elastic tight. “Lily, what is this? People just started dying.”

“Nathan’s genomic weapons,” Lily said grimly. “An ethnic-specific toxin, targeted at the Quechua. Supposed to be lethal even to a quarter ancestry. You and I should be OK, but your boy-”

“That’s monstrous,” Kristie flared.

“More so than an AK47? Look, you need to come back with me. Your mother-”

“To hell with her.” She looked up at Ollantay, who stood between two guards, his hands behind his back in plastic cuffs.“Why isn’t Ollantay hurt by the gas?”

Piers, his gun pointing square at Ollantay’s face, sneered at him. “Maybe because this Inca hero isn’t the pureblood he’d have liked you to believe, Kristie. As I tried to tell you long ago.” The muscles of Ollantay’s arms bunched against the tension of the cuffs. “Maybe because you’ve thrown away your life on a lie-”

“Enough,” Lily said, putting a hand on Piers’s arm.

“I won’t go,” Kristie said.

“Oh yes you will,” Lily snapped, and she hauled her niece to her feet by main force.

“Lily…”

She turned. It was Gary Boyle, standing there in plastic cuffs like Ollantay. Beside him was an older woman, short, tough-looking, likewise cuffed.

Despite the bedlam around her, Lily ran to Gary and embraced him. He smelled of dirt, cordite, blood. “Jesus, it’s good to see you. Even in circumstances like this. When the spotters warned us Walker Okies were coming-I didn’t know if you were still with them. They wouldn’t let me try to contact you.”

“Lily, this is Mayor Thorson. Of Walker City.”

Lily eyed the woman, who met her gaze proudly. “I’m ashamed we didn’t welcome you here.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Thorson said dismissively. “You don’t call the shots, do you? Besides, the game’s up for you.”

“That it is,” Piers said. He ordered the AxysCorp troopers to remove the cuffs from Thorson and Gary. “Look, Lammockson is abandoning Project City. I think he always intended to if, when, the sea reached his Ark. The city served its purpose in building the Ark for him. I don’t know what kind of order will emerge here now. Lammockson doesn’t care anymore, I suspect. But we know about you people, Walker City. I believe you would make a responsible contribution to-”