Ghost Book One: The Earth Transformed

– Chapter Eight –

There were three of them this time, shrieking and flailing towards us from three different directions, and behind their high pitched wails, the lower howls of armored wolves.

“They’re like fucking alarms!” shouted Hell Razor as he blew a screamer’s head off. “They let everything with teeth know where we are!”

“Is it on purpose?” Angie gut–shot another screamer and it collapsed in a mewling heap. “Are they working together? Is Finster signaling them?”

Vargas and I finished off the last mutant together, then he motioned us all back the way we’d come.

“Back to the corner,” he said. “We can’t let ’em get around behind us.”

We ran back and faced out, guns ready. They didn’t keep us waiting. Wolves were loping in from all over, twice as many as before. There was no escape from death this time, and part of me, the same part that had earlier said, “I just want to get it over with,” the same part that had jumped into the fight at White Mesa without thinking twice, the same part that had started the ruckus at the Black Market, was excited by the idea. I didn’t understand it. I should have been pissing my pants, but instead my heart was pounding like I was on a first date. I was having a hard time keeping myself from laughing out loud. The only thing that kinda killed the buzz a little was knowing that my all my friends were going to die too, but even that wasn’t enough to keep my blood from singing.

On either side of me Angie and Athalia were squeezing off head–shots as calm and easy as if they were at target practice. Two wolves dropped. Then another two. Vargas, Ace and Hell Razor weren’t snipers like that, and were holding their fire until the wolves got closer, while Thrasher had put his guns away entirely, and was rolling his shoulders and limbering up with his rebar. Me, I knew I had to get close — under that metal fur — to do anything, so I was wading out through the dead grass with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, howling answers to the wolves’ challenges as I went.

We were all going to die, and it was going to be glorious.

But then, just as the wolves were close enough to see the glow of their eyes, Angie and Athalia’s guns developed a weird echo that didn’t quite match the shots they’d fired. Then a wolf they hadn’t shot stumbled sideways and I realized I wasn’t hearing echoes. I was hearing more guns.

“Watch your fire!” Vargas pointed beyond the wolves. “There’s people coming!”

It was hard to see who they were in the dark, but I could see the flashes of their guns just fine and, wonder of wonders, they weren’t aiming at us. All over Finster’s indoor outdoors wolves were yipping and turning as bullets caught them in the flanks. The shots weren’t doing much damage, but they brought the wolves’ charge to a standstill as they tried to face two threats at once.

We fanned out and moved to enclose them, and the people who had come to our rescue — whoever they were — did the same. Pretty soon, what had looked like it was going to be a dead ranger bloodbath turned into a dead wolf massacre. The ring closed and the wolves turned and lunged, bloodying up a few of us, but we knew what we were dealing with now, and we made our shots count. A few minutes later it was all over — no casualties on our side, high fives all around.

“You all okay, rangers?”

A handful of the folks who had rescued us stepped forward and we whooped when we finally recognized them behind their gas masks. It was Metal Maniac, Mad Dog, and a bunch of the other townies.

Vargas shook his head. “What the hell are you doing back here — aside from saving our asses?”

Metal shrugged. “After all you done for us, we couldn’t just stand by. We all worked here, remember? We knew the kind of craziness you might find.”

Mad Dog laughed. “Good thing some of us know secret ways to get into the garden or we woulda all been on the outside watchin’ you die on the security monitors.”

There were tears in Angie’s eyes. “This is why the rangers succeed. Not because we have the biggest guns, or the best armor. But because, when we do good by the people, the people do good by us. Thank you, friends. Thank you.”

The townsfolk cheered, but Vargas held up a hand.

“Yes, thank you, but now that you’ve saved us you gotta get the hell out again. We know where Finster is now, and hunting him would get awful crowded with you and your army tagging along.”

“Not to mention you’re all still sick as dogs,” said Angie. “You should all be in bed.”

Metal looked stubborn. “We told you, we want to be in on the kill.”

“And I told you, we’ll bring him out for you if we can, but we need to do this part alone.” He cleared his throat. “There are a few things you can do, though.”

“Name ’em,” said Mad Dog.

Vargas ticked them off on his fingers. “One, find us a ladder. Two, carry out the body of our medic, Kate, who… who didn’t make it.”

“Aw shit,” said Metal. “I’m sorry.”

“Me… too,” said Vargas, then cleared his throat again and continued. “And three, post a guard on all the exits of the base so Finster doesn’t slip out and hightail it out of here.”

Metal saluted. “On it. Thanks.” He spun and called to one of his fellow townies.

“Hey, Owen! Bring the ladder from Storage Bay Six! The big one!”

Ten minutes later we propped a long ladder against the broken window in the roof, shooed Metal Maniac and Mad Dog back toward the exits with their friends, and I started up the rungs with Ace, Athalia, and the rangers covering me from the ground. It was a strange sensation. I knew I was heading for a slanted window in a curved ceiling, but the illusion of the night and the stars was so strong that I felt like I was climbing a ladder through the sky.

As my head came even with the bottom of the window, I drew my pistol and peered in, scanning for threats. Inside was a large, wood–paneled office. Again, everything appeared clean enough to be sterile, and that thought made me think that the whole facility was like a body keeping itself clean to protect itself against infection — and we were that infection. Gave me the shivers.

All that wood paneling should have made the office feel warm and inviting, but it failed. Maybe it was because, while it had more shelving than the town library, there wasn’t a single thing on those shelves — no books, no trophies, no curios, no dust. Likewise there were no pictures, maps, or paintings on the open walls. The room had all the personality of cardboard box, like an office ready for its first occupant, not an office that had been in use for over a hundred years.

And for a full thirty seconds I thought it was empty too. Then I noticed the slender man sitting at the large mahogany desk right in front of me. Noticing him freaked me out so much I almost fell off the ladder. Why hadn’t I seen him? He’d been there the whole time, but I’d looked right past him like he was part of the furniture. Maybe because he was so still? He hadn’t looked up, or shifted, or even seemed to take a breath the whole time I’d been looking through with window. Why wasn’t he moving? Was he dead? He must have known we were coming for him. He’d been there when Vargas had shot out his window, but he just sat there, staring blankly.

I trained my gun on him and took another step up the ladder. “Irwin John Finster?”

It took him a moment to react to his name. I’d have held that against him, but I was the same way. Hardly knew my own anymore. Maybe he was a clone like I’d said before — the last of a long line. Then he faced me — but just his head. His shoulders didn’t turn at all, his chair didn’t swivel. His eyes were bright blue.

“You are the clone,” he said. “You found your progenitor in the lab.”

His voice was weird. I’d thought it had sounded metallic because we were hearing it through the PA system, but it sounded the same in person.

“My progenitor’s progenitor,” I said.

I kept my gun on him as I climbed the rest of the way through the window, then beckoned to the others waiting below me. “He’s here! I got him covered! Come on up!”

I heard the ladder creak behind me, but didn’t look around. Neither did Finster. He sat there looking at me, face as blank as a dead TV screen as one by one Angie, Ace, Athalia, Hell Razor, Thrasher, and Vargas came up through the window and put their guns on him too. It took two minutes. I didn’t see him blink once.

Once they were all in, Vargas spoke. “So… we have some questions.”

“Very likely.”

Vargas opened his mouth to continue, but Angie butted in first. “You can’t be the same man who was in charge of this place when it opened, can you? You’re a clone, right? Like Ghost here.”

“I would not say that clone was quite the right term,” He turned his head toward her — again, just his head. The rest of his body stayed in exactly the same position it had been in when I first noticed it. “But, yes, I am not quite the same Irwin John Finster that founded this facility. When important work needs to be done, that which is necessary for its completion must be created. That is what I did, though the sacrifice was great.”

He stood, and it was such an abrupt change from sitting to standing that we all stepped back and raised our weapons. He didn’t seem to notice.

“So,” he said. “Your questions.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Vargas. “First one. What the fuck are you doing? I mean, I think I understand the original reason for this place. Trying to find ways to help humanity adapt to harsh conditions in the event of the apocalypse and so on, but the apocalypse happened and we’re not doin’ too bad — physically at least. We don’t need fancy new lungs to survive. We don’t need steel porcupine quills covering our bodies. So why are you tryin’ to make animals that can live in conditions that don’t exist?”

Finster’s head descended into what should have been a curt nod, but never rose again. He just froze like that, with his chin tucked to his chest.

“They do exist,” he said. “How big is the area of Arizona in which you can survive without the aid of a rad–suit or a breathing mask? Two hundred square miles? Three hundred? Four? Now, how much of the Earth is covered by clouds of toxic radiation? How much of the Earth will you never be able to explore because you can only go so far before your rad suit fails or you run out of filters.”

His head rose again and those motionless blue eyes fixed on Vargas. “If we could breathe that air, if we could thrive in that radiation, the whole world could be ours.”

I glanced at the others to see if that had sounded as sane to them as it had to me. They were frowning and nodding, so I guess I wasn’t alone.

“Okay, fine,” said Angie. “You’ve got a point there, but what’s with irradiating everybody who worked for you? And don’t tell me it was an accident, ‘cause I’m not buying it.”

Finster’s eyes switched to her. “It was not an accident. As you saw out there, I had reached a dead end with my human experiments. With each generation they became more infantile and weak. Then, when my lead researchers rebelled against me and tried to stage a coup, I realized that the fault was not with my experiments. Instead it was inherent in mankind’s internal makeup, a fatal flaw that would always make them destroy themselves and the world around them. For the world to live and grow and again be returned to the pristine paradise it once was, mankind cannot be a part of it. The species must be eradicated, and a new breed of sentient being allowed to evolve to take its place.”

There it was! There was the crazy! Suddenly it was as clear as day that we were all closer to the moon than Finster was to sanity.

“Wait,” said Angie, “you just said, “If we could thrive in that radiation the whole world could be ours.” What happened to “we” all of a sudden?”

“We as in my family,” said Finster. “The world will be ours, not yours.”

Vargas choked, then laughed. “Okay, putting aside the fact that you’re calling for the death of all mankind, evolution takes a long damn time, doesn’t it? It would still take thousands and thousands of generations before those porcupine wolves out there started rubbing sticks together and making fire — maybe millions. You’d be long dead before you got what you wanted, and I have serious doubts any sane person would want to continue the process after you died. It just ain’t gonna work.”

Finster smiled. At least the corners of his mouth went up. It still didn’t look like a smile. “It will work, because I will not die. I have left the human lifecycle behind. I can wait as long as it takes. Then my children, who will grow and thrive under my care, will repopulate the earth, making it again the Eden God intended. What foolish human wars destroyed, I and my guided–evolution family will make anew.”

“Sounds quite cozy and megalomaniacal,” said Athalia, “but what about the robots coming from Base Cochise? They’re going to roll over this place long before your “children” have evolved the defenses to protect themselves. Your plan won’t last this generation, let alone a thousand.”

Finster’s eyes flicked to her. “Yes. The robots.” His face made the non–smiling smile motion again. “The robots are the reason I have let you live this long, and have patiently answered your questions.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Hell Razor.

Finster kept talking like Hell Razor hadn’t spoken. “The robots must be dealt with — as must the computer that is creating them — and you ‘rangers’ have the skills and firepower to deal with them, while I, currently, do not. This is why I want you to become part of Project Darwin — my security team, if you will. In exchange you will have the pick of the housing in Darwin Village and any mate you want from my pool human test subjects. Also, I have a security pass for Sleeper Base One which will give you access to advanced armor to help you win the fight.”

Angie laughed like a hyena. “Join you after you just told us that you’re planning to wipe out the whole human race? Are you out of your ever–lovin’—”

“Angie!” Vargas cut her off with a chop gesture and a roll of the eyes.

She glared at him. “What?”

“Just… shhh.”

He turned back to Finster and cleared his throat. “Despite my colleague’s hesitation, you’re making a lot of sense. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that stuff. If you’re willing to give us the sec pass that gets us that armor, then we’re willing to put aside our differences and go after the robots which are a threat to us both. Sound like a deal?”

“Very good,” said Finster. “I will give you the security pass as soon as you allow me to inject you with a disease of my own invention, the antidote for which only I possess. Once you successfully defeat the robots, return here and I will give you the antidote. Understood?”

We all blinked at him.

“You what now?” I said.

“So,” Vargas growled. “You’re saying you don’t trust us.”

Finster’s face was blank. “As much as you trust me.”

“Well—”

“Well in that case,” growled Hell Razor. “Fuck you!”

And with that he shot Finster in the knee caps with a blast from his shotgun, then aimed the second barrel at his head as he crashed to the floor.

“Now give us the fucking sec pass before I spray your fucked up brain all over this nice clean room.”

Finster hadn’t made a sound when his knees got turned into hamburger, and he didn’t make a sound now. He just lay there for a long moment, staring — at least as far as I could tell — at the droplets of blood that were dotting his hardwood floor. Then, incredibly, too easily, he pushed himself up and faced us again. I didn’t know how he was standing. His legs should have been a shattered mess.

“If you do not want the security pass,” he said, like nothing had happened, “then I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. If you do not want to go, well, we are not without means to deal with even the likes of the dreaded Desert Rangers.”

Hell Razor stared, incredulous. “You are crazy! Only a fucking mad man talks shit to the guy with the shotgun in his face! Now where is that fucking—”

“I’m not mad.” Finster shook violently. “And I’m not a man.”

His body started jerking and spasming in time with a series of metallic clicks, snaps and clanks.

Vargas stared. “What the…?”

We all stepped back as the fingers of Finster’s right hand ratcheted down and stretched out to equal length.

“What is happening to him?” asked Angie.

“Shit is freaking me out,” said Hell Razor.

The skin of Finster’s fingers split, revealing hollow steel tubes that began to spin as if his hand was a Gatling cannon.

Vargas shoved at the rest of us and dove for the floor. “Down! Down!”

I hit the dirt behind Finster’s desk as flame and metal spat from his hand and chewed up the pristine oak top. My heart was pounding from shock and confusion. What the fuck was that? A mechanical gun hand? Where the fuck did he get that?

I rolled to the far end of the desk and leaned out to fire, and saw that it wasn’t just Finster’s hand that was mechanical. In the second and a half it had taken me to get from one end of the desk to the other, Finster had transformed himself from a slender man to a looming metal android thing. Hooks and blades on his shoulders and elbows had shredded through what was left of his human flesh and clothing, and around his piercing blue eyes his cheeks and brow had split, revealing sharp chrome bones and hydraulic muscles.

I pulled the trigger at him as fast as I could, pumping round after round into his torso. Angie and Athalia’s pistols blazed at him too, as Ace, Vargas, and Hell Razor emptied shotguns and SMGs into him. Finster jerked and staggered under the deafening barrage, armor plating denting, sparks jetting from his torso, but he never lost his balance, and his gun–hand was swinging around toward where Angie and Athalia lay together behind the flimsy cover of a fancy wooden chair.

“No!”

Thrasher roared up out of cover and smashed his rebar billy club down on Finster’s forearm with all his might. The stream of lead zigged past the women and ate up the floor instead, then sputtered out as the bent and broken gun whined to a stop.

Thrasher swung the billy club again, aiming for Finster’s head, but the android’s other hand snapped out and caught his wrist and stopped him cold. It was eerie to look at. Thrasher was a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier, yet the whip–thin metal skeleton was muscling him back, crushing his wrist in its grip as it raised its mangled gun–hand at him like a club.

“Hey asshole,” snarled Vargas. “Nobody thrashes Thrasher.”

Vargas and Hell Razor stepped in on either side of their comrade and fired at Finster from point blank range. Vargas’s SMG hammered the android, bouncing him back a couple of steps and forcing him to let go. Hell Razor’s shotgun spun him around and dropped him flat on his back on the floor.

I stood to deliver the coup de grace, but Athalia beat me to it. She knelt down beside Finster and put her pistol to his metal sternum, right where his heart should have been, and pulled the trigger three times.

Finster spasmed and kicked and tried raise the gun again as his blue eyes began to darken, but I stepped on the barrel and gave him a smile.

He looked up at me. “You were easier to… kill last… time.”

“I was alone last time.”

Angie dropped beside him. “Never mind that shit! Where is the sec pass?”

Finster chuckled. It sounded like a broken fan blade spinning down. “You will… never find it.”

Angie shook him. “Come on, you bastard! Give!”

“It is… in… my memory.”

His blue eyes went black.