James Knapp - The Silent Army

An armed helicopter has approached the helipad, a report said. Only one confirmed.

Take that helicopter out. Get as many stingers up there as you can. They can’t stop them all. Do not allow them back onto the helipad; whoever boarded does not get back on that helicopter.

A stasis blister bulged there inside the crate, and I saw a male figure inside it. A revivor deployed its bayonet and jabbed the tip through the blister. It slit the plastic open and the stasis fluid inside flooded out. Two others plunged their arms into the thick soup and grabbed the figure inside. They lifted it out, arms and legs dangling, and more approached as it was placed on the deck.

One sprayed the body with a jet of water, washing it clean while others scanned it. I got a look at its face under the lights, and realized that I knew it. He was bonier now than in his pictures, and black veins wormed beneath skin that was pale and thin, but I still recognized him. The man was Samuel Fawkes.

“It’s him,” one of the revivors near him said. “Confirmed. It’s him. We’ve got him.”

Samuel Fawkes had been murdered; we knew that. A C-shaped dermal patch stood out on his side, just underneath the right side of his rib cage; I remembered it now from the crime photos. That’s where that strange street woman had stuck the knife. She’d meant to kill him then, and she almost did. She believed her own people would come for her when they found out what she did. She disobeyed an order…. After that, she disappeared.

The second skin patch had sealed a deeper wound, where flesh puckered around his left jugular. He had lived for three more years, before a second murder attempt was made. The second was successful.

If the memories of it hadn’t been taken, it would have been clear as day; at least one person had wanted to kill him, and at least one person wanted him alive.

Are they not as organized as we first thought?

A revivor pulled the tube out of his throat. Another held a metal wand to his neck. With an electric snap, his body convulsed, muscle striations standing out in shadow. The sound crackled through the hold as the soldiers continued to file out. Smoke began to rise from the metal wand in thin threads, and then a new signature began to initialize. It coalesced, and snapped into its waveform.

The waveform contained his encoded ID—that same ID that had reached out from far off, from across the desert and across the sea. It was here in front of me. As I stood and stared, I could feel him reaching. As the others helped him up onto his feet, he extended a connection out to me. I accepted the circuit, while he stood up for the first time in ten years.

Faye.

Yes. It’s me. I’m over here.

Samuel Fawkes opened his eyes. A faint silver light swelled, and began to grow brighter.

With Calliope’s body hoisted on one shoulder, I pushed through the throng of revivors as fast as I could. They’d noticed the blood on the gurney and were nosing past us to get at it. I adjusted her weight and headed out into the main corridor. Something crashed in the med ward behind me as I stepped onto the moving walkway and eased her down. My vision blurred as I knelt over her body, gasping. Another crowd of revivors was moving through the corridor up ahead. I couldn’t risk reviving her yet, but I couldn’t wait much longer. Her JZI would keep her blood oxygenated for a short time, but not forever.

The eyes watched us impassively as the walkway took us past them. As they receded into the shadows, several of them began to take notice, but none followed.

An explosion drummed through the ship, and the emergency lights went out completely. A beat later, the walkway slowed to a stop.

Shit …

The revivors behind us still hadn’t moved. The way ahead looked clear. I turned on a flashlight and lifted Cal up again, pain shooting through my legs.

Something darted across the beam ahead, but whatever it was, it didn’t stop for us. I staggered down the corridor, then shouldered open a door to my right, taking us into a stairwell. Up above, I could hear wind whistling through the open hatch. Gunfire cracked above the sound of waves.

She’s unconscious and we’re coming up. Can you clear a path?

Can do. Hold position.

A whine rose in pitch, then the sound of the helicopter’s chain gun blared. A torrent of rounds crashed off the deck as the racket drowned out everything else, then stopped ten seconds later.

Okay, you’re clear. Move now.

I hung on to the rail and hauled her up as cold, wet air blew down the stairwell. Over the ringing in my ears I could hear the wind howling on the deck, and the thump of helicopter rotors on the helipad outside.

Make straight for the airlift.

Got it.

Open flames blew in the wind as rain and smoke sheared across the deck in front of me. The ship tilted as a wave swelled, its nose rising in front of us. Ahead I could see the helipad. Most of the MSST who were left were inside, but two were moving toward us, carrying a stretcher between them. One of the men stopped to fire at something off to his left. I waved to one of the soldiers on the pad.

We’re here.

We see you.

An explosion went off, and fire climbed into the night sky as the surface of the water lit up. Soldiers on the helipad began firing at something off to their left. The two soldiers on deck reached us and helped me get Cal strapped in.

Now. Go now.

They ran, Cal’s body swaying on the stretcher between them as they made their way back. I stayed behind and covered them as more revivors appeared on the deck behind us. The rain was driving now, making it hard to see them, let alone target them.

Nico.

I turned toward the spot where the soldiers had fired. A small group of figures gathered on the deck, eyes glowing softly in the dark. As the spotlight swept over them, I saw a tarp come free, taken by the wind. It cracked like a whip and blew off into the darkness, revealing a small aircraft underneath.

Nico, wait.

As the floodlight focused on them, I saw Faye standing near the aircraft. Her coat whipped in the wind as she met my eye. Behind me, the MSST leader had spotted them.

We’ve got more hostiles on deck. Take them out.

Wait. Hold your fire.

There was another revivor next to Faye, a male. It had a coat draped over its shoulders, but was naked underneath. Its skin was waxy, and even at that distance I could see the network of dark veins underneath it.

As gruesome as it looked, though, I recognized that face. I zoomed in on it to be sure.

Fawkes.

He looked past Faye and met my eye. It was definitely him. Fawkes was out of stasis.

I took aim across the deck and fired. With the weather and the movement of the ship, the shot went wild and clipped his shoulder, dotting Faye’s face with black spots.

Nico, wait.

I moved toward him and slipped on the deck. I went down hard on one knee and pulled the trigger again as pain shot up my thigh. By then, the others were crowding him. I caught one of them in the back of the head as it moved to shield him. Faye stepped into the line of fire.

My finger tightened on the trigger. From behind Faye, Fawkes was still staring at me.

You kill Fawkes.

Ai had said that. She said it at the restaurant where she first dragged me into the case. To her, it was a given. To her, it was something that couldn’t be changed.

I might be able to shoot past Faye and hit him. The dark spot that floated in front of my eyes darted back and forth over his face as he watched me.