Chapter 8: Choices
It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny.
Jean Nidetch
- - -
Fohn had the card with the credits in his hands when the door opened. The words: 'do not disturb' froze in his throat. Without much thinking, he ducked under the operating table and started to crawl towards the back exit.
His employer stopped, his free hand almost touching the door's panel. Behind the steel plate there were ancient service tunnels, a maze known only to a handful. His other hand held the artificial womb, carefully. And now he lifted it up, like a shield.
"Do not come any closer!" he bellowed. "It's extremely fragile!"
Fohn crawled the whole way, up to his feet. Just to keep out of sight. Out of range. The cruise was awaiting him and—of, Divine--did he want his Flash doze.
The door hissed and opened, not from the inside, but outside. Fohn did not hesitate, he jumped out, got to his feet and run as fast as he could, away from this crazy mess.
xXx
Rhade entered the room and the world turned red.
The anger, the fight, the killing—and the sight of Beka, unconscious, strapped to the operating table, half covered with a white sheet—clouded his mind with a crimson mist. There was not a death painful enough in the universe for what has been done to Beka. Not in this universe and not in any other.
Trance was by Beka's side and so was Harper. If Dylan was saying something, Rhade was not listening, focused only on the tall figure, a man dressed in grey, his face covered with shawl, eyes hidden behind binoculars. He was holding…
Stop.
He was holding…
No. Can't be.
An artificial womb. The child.
"It's extremely fragile!"
He could hear the satisfaction in the man's voice, the power. He held all the aces, got what he wanted… And was about to leave with it. And they were watching.
The small door behind the man opened, even though he didn't touch the panel. A midget-like grey shape squeezed outside and disappeared, but that was now of secondary importance. Rhade caught a glimpse of light, reflecting from steel—barrel of a gun! his mind screamed—on the dark corridor behind the door.
The instinct did the rest.
He pushed Dylan to the ground—saw the man walk out the door with the artificial womb in hand—and then a metal object hit the floor with a slight tinkling sound.
It was not a gun barrel. It was a grenade.
From that moment on, everything froze.
Rhade heard Harper repeating: "Holyfuckingshit" as if it was one word. He saw Trance covering Beka with her own body and then he was there, by Beka, shielding them both.
The blast almost shattered his ear drums.
The wave threw him onto Trance and Beka. He felt something hard, hitting his back. And tiny, sharp shreds, cutting through flesh. But it was over and he was stillbreathing.
The grenade was there not to kill. It was to delay pursuit.
"A fucking shock wave!" Harper was coughing on the floor, his face marked by scratches.
Dylan landed by the wall and was just getting up, holding his head. Trance lifted hers and checked on Beka, still unconscious. Rhade staggered back, catching his balance in time. His and Trance's gaze met over Beka. The nymph bit her lip, said nothing. They both knew what was in the container.
Rhade turned around and run through the door.
xXx
The corridors might have been a maze, but he had the Nietzschean sense of smell. They did not hurry much, hoping the shock wave knocked everyone out. Too confident.
The corridor ended in a large well, a ventilation shaft. Rhade halted only for a moment, scanning the area. A fragile looking platform was leading to the other side. The man he was chasing was in the middle of the platform, followed by two others, dressed in strange dark armors.
They stopped too, the man looked back.
Rhade run towards them, on the thin platform hanging above a seemingly bottomless shaft. The first man picked up the rifle—Rhade jumped up, extending the force lance into a staff, the shot went past him and ricocheted on the wall. Landing, he punched the unlucky henchman with the end of the lance and threw him off balance—and off the platform.
Another swift movement – and he knocked the gun out of the second man's hands. Then his bone blades dug into the man's throat.
Over the fallen corpse, he faced the one he was chasing.
"Very nice," the man's voice was harsh, as if glass was breaking at the bottom of his larynx. "Very nice, Nietzschean."
Rhade turned the force lance around in his hand.
"I'd recommend handing the container back," he said, holding back the rage.
"I'm sure you would," the man replied. Rhade heard steps, coming closer. From behind the man's back.
"If you give it back without incident, I'll kill you fast," offered Rhade with a smirk.
"I believe you, Nietzschean. I truly do. You are quite incredible. Hell, more than incredible," with that, the man jumped back. The part of the platform where he was standing, collapsed and fell down the shaft, into the darkness. The edges were melted by acid.
There was now a gap between them. One jump for a Nietzschean and they both knew it. The steps were getting closer.
"I'm sure you could just get here to me," the man continued. "We'd struggle for a while—I'm not a weakling myself, but you'd probably overpower me. Even after being hit by a shock wave. Still, there remains one problem."
"Which is?"
"I had my men booby-trap the drift.We have approximately…" the man looked at a timer on his wrist, "Five minutes before this place blows into pieces. Now, can you get to me, take the child, kill me and return to her? Yes, I'm talking about the woman there. Pretty remarkable creature. But this child isn't yours, is it, Nietzschean? No, it's not… Anyway, you have a choice, Nietzschean. She or the child. I don't think you have time to get both. You know I'm not lying. With that supreme hearing of yours… Even deafened after the shock wave… You know I'm not lying. So, what's it going to be, Nietzschean? Make a choice."
Rhade growled.
"Make a choice, Nietzschean!..."
"I will find you," Rhade managed to smile. "You know I'm not lying either."
The man laughed. "I'm actually counting on it! I like you, Nietzschean."
And as Rhade turned to get to Beka and the others in time, the man watched him go.
"I'm counting on it, Telemachus Rhade."
This is the end of the first story arch...
The next one will follow shortly. There is, naturally, a number of questions unanswered. And our heroes are not in a pretty situation. Still, it can get worse. Not in the moment, but it can. God, the action scenes. I loce doing them in my native language, in English I'm sometimes at a loss for a perfect phrase... I hope they don't seem too awkward.
Jamieson Z: I usually go for the unusual; and things do not turn the right way in the things I write. I like things dark and preferably bloody;) Happy endings are never easy to reach and in most cases the price to pay is way too expensive... (That is a premise for the future of the fic... I am wicked, amI not?)
Great thanks to all my reviewers! You Guys are great!