I Am Titanium (Pax Black Book 1) (36 page)

Now he felt
peace
.

Beside him, the monster had changed inside its bubble. It wasn’t an armored beetle anymore but a shape almost like a manta ray, thicker in the middle, with stubbier, trailing “wings.” On its hind end were what almost looked like tailpipes.

A spaceship.

Terry had said the things had evolved to track down the invaders across deep space. Somehow, that didn’t make it any less surprising to see it actually happening.

Warily, in case Terry had lied again, he popped the bubble around the monster’s ship.

A few tiny blue lights flashed. It retracted its support beams, and the ship started moving. It was using some kind of plasma propulsion system it had not used while on Earth. Maybe it hadn’t reached critical mass at that point—maybe it hadn’t needed it. But now that it was in space it had no reason to hesitate.

It was definitely headed somewhere. It gave itself a few more course corrections and then accelerated.

Pax studied the stars in that direction.
What was even over there
?

It was an unfortunate gap in his education. Humans had been stuck planet side for so long, without any real hope of moving into space, that the study of astronomy had receded from a “need to know” into a “nice to know,” on a species-wide basis. For Pax, it had never been more than a passing interest.

The sky was full of more stars than he’d ever seen before, and with his general lack of knowledge, any hope of finding a recognizable constellation approached nil. He could have been looking right at the Big Dipper for all he knew. There were just too many stars.

Except in one spot.

Below and to the right of the Milky Way, from Pax’s perspective, the stars were spread more unevenly than they were elsewhere—they looked crushed together, as if in tangled ropes or a kind of bent web. If the stars had been on the surface of a balloon, the balloon would have been in the process of being bent and popped simultaneously.

And the plant-monster ship was headed right for it.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. Terry was telling the truth.

Pax was looking at a rift in the universe.

Once they reached the clean room, Ms. Jance handed Julie over to two men in combat gear, complete with smoked visors that covered their faces, leaving Julie with the impression that under the shielding, they might be robots or astral beings. Or maybe werewolves. Nothing would surprise her anymore.

Ms. Jance was hustled out of the room. Julie could hear the woman demanding information all the way down the hallway. When Julie’s escorts discovered she wouldn’t, or more properly couldn’t, move any faster, they swung her up in their arms as though they were a kind of human chair.

“My purse!” Julie realized. Of course she’d left it behind. Of course it had all her meds.

“Forget it, lady,” one of the men said. “Replace your IDs later.”

“It’s my meds—”

“You’ll just have to get your prescriptions refilled.”

They rushed her down the hallway. Their jolting run made her bones ache and her stomach turn. Her heart raced even faster than their footsteps.

Oh, my God,
she thought.
What if it’s not just the heart attack? What if there’s something else wrong with me? What if I’m dying, really dying?

Scarlett’s voice echoed in the hallway behind them, asking a question. Someone snapped an answer at her, and she shouted, “Fine! Whatever!”

Running feet came up behind them, and the girl and the other men passed around them. The girl’s face was streaked with tears, just like a typical spoiled teenager.

Except she’s not a teenager. Not anymore.

Nothing was left of the security door at the end of the hallway but glass pebbles on the floor. Scarlett slipped on them, was jerked upright, and was dragged to the door of the emergency stairs, complaining at the top of her lungs.

The door had been blown open. The top and bottom halves of the door were bent at angles to each other, with a twisted, soot-streaked mess of metal shards between them.

Julie’s escorts slowed as they passed through the entry hall, glass crunching under their feet, and started descending the stairs. The air was still acrid from the explosives.

The sounds of the others running down the stairs had become distant; shouted orders echoed from somewhere on the first floor.

The only ones left in the building—the only ones left
alive
in the building—were her, her two escorts, and a single guard behind them that she only just realized was there as they turned the first corner on the stairs. He had a rifle in his arms and was backing quickly down the stairs, covering their rear.

Nothing followed them that she could see.

Can’t you understand? They don’t need to follow us. You’re not just fighting robots. You’re fighting… a kind of god. If it had wanted us dead, we would be.

The stairs below her echoed with the sound of running boots coming toward them.

Julie’s escorts pressed themselves into a corner, squeezing her embarrassingly between them, as a dozen men passed. They were all dressed in combat gear and holding rifles. Their boots sounded like an oncoming train. All of them except the first and last carried heavy-looking, green tin boxes as well as black duffle bags strapped to their backs.

As soon as the men passed, her escorts picked her up and started carrying her down the stairs again. Faster. She clenched her teeth to keep from biting her tongue and swallowed repeatedly to keep from vomiting.

A man with a radio was waiting for them at the bottom. “They’ve reached the bottom of the stairwell,” he said into his radio. “Over.”

“Initiating Operation Clean Slate,” the voice on the radio responded. “Over.”

By then her two escorts had been replaced by a different, yet nearly identical, pair of men. All of them streamed out of the front doors and into the back of a large black military truck. It had two benches in the rear and two additional guards. As the last of the group entered, each guard reached outward, grabbed a door handle, and slammed the doors shut.

“All clear!”

The truck began moving. Julie was pushed onto the barely padded bench seat, panting and shaking. Her chest ached; cold sweat was rolling down between her breasts, across her belly, off her face, and down her neck.

I’m having another heart attack.

I’m going to die this time.

She leaned against the wall of the truck, which had a stiffly padded black headrest attached over a row of cabinets and other equipment she hadn’t noticed at first glance. Toward the front of their compartment was a green metal container strapped to the wall and marked with a red cross.

The man beside her slipped off his helmet. He was older than she expected—her age, maybe even older. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

“I need my meds, which are in my purse. Back in the building.”

“What do you need?”

“Nitro spray. Four hundred micrograms. Fast.”

Something outside the truck thudded, and everyone hesitated for a moment.

“Operation Clean Slate completed,” said a voice over the radio.

“Shit,” someone whispered.

Julie gasped as pain seared up her chest. The troop in the truck went into action. Men crowded off the bench to clear a space for her. Two of them helped her lie down. The one who’d spoken to her opened the kit on the wall and pulled out some nitro spray. She gave herself a couple of sprays under her tongue and waited. Her heart felt like it was hiccupping. A stethoscope slipped between the buttons of her blouse.

“Irregular rhythm,” the man who’d removed his helmet said. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

“She won’t be safe there, sir. Their systems are compromised.”

“What other chance has she got?”

“We have to take her to the bunker,” said the other man. “She’s the one who knows the most about the physiology and psychology of the two initial subjects. We can’t take chances with her.”

“Not taking her to a hospital
right now
is taking chances with her.”

“I’m sorry, Captain. We know the AI is after her specifically. I mean, we can’t take the chance it will take her from us.”

“Then get us there faster.”

The medic’s order almost made Julie laugh. The truck was already lurching and heaving with reckless speed. The other soldier, however, nodded, He opened up a metal panel at the front of the compartment and called through it. “Cap says to move it. Passenger having a heart attack back here.”

The nitro was doing its job, loosening the tightness in her chest. She was still sweating like a pig, though she felt like she was in a refrigerator. She put her hand on her forehead. It felt waxy and cold.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Secret bunker,” the medic said. “I can’t tell you how long to get there because I don’t know. There’s a full complement of ER-level medical equipment there, though. I know that much.”

“Good.” She closed her eyes. The vehicle jounced underneath them, rattling her body around on the seat. “I’m feeling much better now, thank you, but I certainly wouldn’t slow down anytime soon.”

A radio overhead gave a burst of static. “Seatbelts, people.”

Hands touched her, strapping her to the seat with webbed belts that snapped shut and then tightened across her clothing and her legs. She kept her eyes closed. Thank goodness they weren’t asking her to sit up. By the sound of it, everyone was trying to squeeze together on the other bench, but a couple of the men were going to have to stand, no way around it. She let herself drift.

“Bump.” The radio announced, and the vehicle jerked. The road underneath them now was rougher, either an old asphalt road full of potholes or a gravel road, or some such. The driver barely slowed down.

“ETA one hour, fifteen minutes,” the radio voice announced. “If you gotta go, piss out a window. We have strict orders not to stop.”

She felt the presence of someone leaning above her, saw a shadow over her closed eyelids. She frowned and opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“Is it true what they’re saying?” asked one of the soldiers.

“I don’t know. What
are
they saying?”

The man above her hadn’t removed his helmet, and her own face was reflected back to her, an ugly distortion. “World War III. The Chinese sent an AI after us and it went rogue… it’s taking down systems all over the planet. Destroyed our satellites. Blew up an island in the Caribbean. And maybe a couple of places in New York City. A school.”

She sighed. The man bending over her wouldn’t be the only one who was worried. Everyone who had the slightest clue what was happening was probably terrified by now.

Julie could have told them the person who’d destroyed the school was in another one of the vehicles, traveling to the bunker with them. She had no love for the girl, but since Ms. Jance seemed to be willing to handle
that
problem, Julie was willing to leave it alone. For now. The island had been the monster attacking Pax—but the satellites or the AIs? She had no idea.

In short: she knew nothing that would reassure these men. Nothing.

So she shook her head, closed her eyes, and let herself drift as the truck rattled down the road.

Pax is dead,
she told herself. She’d seen the body, hadn’t she? All that was left of him was a sick mockery.
You’re free now.

You’re free.

Like a crack in a window, the rift distorted the light around it, making it look like the stars were being sucked down a hole. It was close. If what Terry had said was true, it was near Earth’s orbit. Part of Pax hadn’t really believed Terry until then. Old human habits die hard: seeing was believing.

But just because Terry was right didn’t mean Pax had to forgive Terry. If he had been honest from the start, they could have shown people and the entire planet could have been working on finding a solution. Pax wouldn’t have had to waste time learning to be the world’s worst superhero.

But no. Terry had to act like a complete lunatic, and now there’s a cosmic bathtub drain in the solar system.
Fucking Terry.

The plant-monster was still accelerating toward the rift when something came through from the other side. It was a distant speck that only showed up because it blocked the light behind it. The fact that Pax could pick it out with his naked eye meant it was either immense… or very, very close. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

As it came closer, Pax could see it was indeed a ship of some kind. The ship seemed to be made of floating plates supported by some kind of shimmering purple force field. It passed across the face of the moon.

Fuck
.

It was too fucking close.

The ship was shaped like a bird with wings held close to its body. As Pax watched, a dozen sharp-edged wings made of the same plates spread out, facing the sun. The ship began to maneuver. It looked like it was going to settle into an Earth orbit.