The Eternal Prison (20 page)

 

“All right, get us there.”

 

We pushed into the little foyer and stood awkwardly while Marko, breathing heavily, worked on the outer door with a set of tiny, delicate-looking tools in one hands and a small, wallet-sized unit that buzzed loudly in the other. He touched the tip of a tool to the door, grunted, and then deftly switched tools in his hands and tried again. After about a minute, his grunt was immediately followed by the soft click of the door unlocking, and he quickly stuffed his little tools into his jacket pockets and pulled it open a crack. I wondered what would fall out of his pockets onto the floor if I was to grab him by the ankles and shake him.

 

Pushing the door all the way open, he motioned us after him back into the white, antiseptic hallway.

 

“Keep your coats closed,” I advised, handing the badge back to Krasa, who took it gingerly between two fingers. “Hide those badges. We still need them.”

 

“What are we doing?” Krasa hissed into my ear, her perfume surrounding me for a second. “They’re
tracking
us, you fucking street trash. Wherever we go, they’ll find us.”

 

A trio of cops approached, and I tensed up. They were young guys, wearing identical white shirts with their sleeves rolled up, their ties loose around their necks, black leather holsters jammed in their armpits. They looked like kids trying to be tough, but I’d been tuned up often enough by youngsters just like them, shiny red-faced fuckers with nothing but energy. They didn’t pay us any attention, sweeping past us without even a curt nod at Krasa.

 

“The Worms don’t bother putting out general alerts,” she whispered.

 

When we hit the first door, she gestured us through without hesitating—no way to reprogram every door in the building, I guessed. I was lost almost immediately in the white, unmarked halls, but Marko moved confidently, and after a few turns he gestured open a pair of large doors and waved us into a large, dark freight elevator.

 

I hesitated just a second—the cab smelled like blood, and the floor was… soft and sticky. I decided not to investigate too closely, keeping my eyes straight ahead. Marko stepped in after us and gestured; the doors slid shut, and the air turned a dull red from the weak light inside the cab.

 

We said nothing. Krasa and I checked our guns as best we could in the dim light and then held them ready. When the doors split open and that damned clean light flooded the cab again, I stepped forward quickly, pushing Marko out of the way and moving to the side in order to get clear of Krasa’s fire, my eyes adjusting to the harsh light immediately, instantly.

 

It was a large room, aggressively air-conditioned. I couldn’t feel the cold, but I could see Krasa’s breath steaming out of her as we both relaxed. There was a large bank of drawers across from us, each with an impressive chrome handle and a small Vid screen.

 

Between us and the drawers were piled body bags, shining wetly in the bare light. They were heaped haphazardly, with empty ones mixed in like rotted fruit.

 

“Anyone we need to actually keep track of, in the slots,” Marko said briskly, moving through the piles toward the opposite wall. “Everyone else just gets dumped in the middle. Our best bet is the bags—no ID on them, they just get dumped and shipped out.” I watched him bend down to pick up an empty bag and inspect it, wincing and jerking back as he got a good smell. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, and then looked up at me. I was amazed at how far Marko had come. He was almost a goddamn grown-up.

 

“Trip to the ovens is fifteen minutes, give or take; hover leaves every hour or so,” he said. “You got a plan beyond that?”

 

Every hour—I wondered how many corpses were being generated in The Rock every day. I nodded at Marko. “Chips and badges go into a bag, any bag,” I said. “Then
we
get into a bag, too. Sure, they’ll trace us here, they’ll find the fucking chips, they’ll know we were here.” I nodded to myself, jamming my gun into my pocket and slipping my blade into one hand. “But they’ll never think we
stayed
here. Human nature would be to put distance between those chips and ourselves.”

 

“You can’t be sure they won’t just search the whole room. Or that they won’t just put bullets into every bag,” Krasa said, staring at her gun.

 

I nodded. “Sure. You’ve got a ten-second window to suggest better options.” I waited, staring at her, and then nodded. “Then take your jackets off.” I examined the knife and its tattered, taped-up handle. “I can’t promise to be gentle.”

 

 

 

 

XVI

WONDER WHAT HE USES
NEEDLES
FOR

 

 

 

 

Someone was singing.

 

“
Hänschen klein ging allein, in die weite Welt hinein,
” a woman’s voice lilted softly, far away, coming to me through layers of pain and darkness. A breathy, girlish sort of voice. I thought of my mother for the first time in decades… I remembered little about her, but this voice, for some reason, brought her back to me. I remembered her fat arms, the fine hairs on them, reaching out for me. That was it. That was all I had.

 

After a moment I realized I was moving, gliding along.

 

“
Stock und Hut steht ihm gut, er ist wohlgemut,
” she continued, low and almost sexy, and then drifted into humming, sounding happy.

 

“You are awake,” she said suddenly. “You’ve been waiting for a long time. That is too bad for you.”

 

I opened my eyes. A shiny electrical conduit snaked above me, bolted into the rough cement. I turned my head and looked around, and as I did so sound rushed back to me, a sizzling silence broken only by the squeaking wheel of the gurney I was strapped onto.

 

By tilting my head backward a bit I brought her into view: An old woman, midforties maybe, blond hair unnaturally vivid and face unnaturally smooth and refreshed looking. She was wearing a simple suit of black fabric and a bright white lab coat. She glanced down at me and smiled, nodding once and looking back up.

 

“Why,” I asked, my throat burning, “is that bad for me?”

 

Her smile kinked up in the corners, becoming cruel. “The procedure is extremely
invasive.
”

 

I tested the straps and found them professionally applied, my arms pinned down so tightly I was pretty sure the circulation had been stopped. I remembered Marlena staring down at me and thought her face had been honestly horrified, honestly surprised as that cocksucker Michaleen took the hover up, leaving me to the dogs.

 

Leaving me to
this.

 

I still wasn’t afraid. I imagined dying—just everything turning off, suddenly gone, and felt nothing. I didn’t worry about dying; I’d been coasting on fumes for so long I think somewhere in the shadowed parts of my brain I’d already decided I
was
dead, in a sense.

 

But I was
angry.

 

The cocksucker had
lied
to me. About everything—about my
father.
I’d known—deep down I’d known all along, but I’d wanted it to be true, to have that connection. I was a fucking punk, but I was going to make Mickey eat it. I strained my arms against the straps; they didn’t even budge. I had work to do—it was going to be hell finding one small man buried in the shit of the System, especially with a fucking civil war going on, but if I could just get one arm free, I was going to break this woman’s neck and get started.

 

“Do not struggle, dear,” she murmured, not looking at me. “You’re
quite
secure.”

 

I believed her. Her face was round and plump, a well-fed face, with a ruddy complexion and a cheerful expression. The bitch was smiling as she pushed me toward
processing.

 

“Who are you?” I asked. My voice came out thick and rusty, phlegm pooled in the back of my throat.

 

Her smile brightened, but she didn’t look down at me. Above her, the conduit streamed along, occasionally bending this way and that. “Now why does that matter, dear?”

 

I made my face into a smiling mask, even though she wasn’t looking at me. “I’m taking names for future reference, so I can kill everyone who touches me here.”
After I find Michaleen,
I thought.

 

She didn’t look impressed. If anything, her face brightened even more. “Oh, that’s
charming,
Mr. Cates. They told me you were a handful. I’m going to have
fun
with you!”

 

I relaxed my neck and stared up at the ceiling, testing my hands and legs again. I wondered if this was where the rail led to, if this was what the universe had in mind for me. Tilting my head forward as much as I could, I got a quick look at some swinging double doors just before we crashed through them, entering a large room, the ceiling suddenly jumping up another few feet. It was bright and cold; the walls were still the same rough concrete but lined with humming boxes of a dark, rough-looking metal, like something that had been fired until it scorched. Cables snaked along the ceiling, suspended by small clamps and wires, running from box to box. The hum immediately got into my bones and made me nervous, like it was vibrating my DNA.

 

“They’re coming in fast and furious,” a male voice said, out of my field of vision. “Assholes brought the hammer down on them, and there’s nothing for it but to stuff them down here and speed things up. Order is, process them as fast as we can and try to limit kills.”

 

“Fast as we can,” the woman sniffed, stepping away from me. “The problem with the world is that it is not run by scientists. If Director Marin wants things to go smoothly, he should do a better job of keeping the army away from this site. I can’t work properly if I’ve got to have my bags packed for an immediate evac all the time.”

 

“It’s a mess, all right,” the man agreed. There was a large, bright light above me, making me squint. “I hear they just took Vegas. Just carpet bombed the hover-port and went in, expecting street-by-street resistance, but Marin pulled out, ordering all SSF into the California Department for re-regrouping.”

 

“He got caught out,” the woman said with a sigh. “Digital memory storage and synapse replication doesn’t make you any
smarter,
does it?”

 

The man laughed but didn’t sound amused. “Be careful, Dr. Kerril. Director Marin has big ears.”

 

“Tut,” she said. “If he thinks he’s going to process millions of people without me, he’s mistaken. I think he knows that he needs me.” She sighed. “Well, let’s get moving. I’ve got another dozen already piled up in the waiting room. Word from the mountain is to just liquidate the whole population; the army’s too close and the riot’s compromised basic security here. It’s going to be a long night.”

 

“
How
close? I don’t relish ending up standing in front of Ruberto’s desk. I hear he’s issued a blanket death sentence to anyone arrested in the field. We might not even make it to his desk.”

 

There was a sudden, distant tremor, a dull booming noise, and I felt a soft vibration shiver through the whole room. Everything went quiet for a moment, and then three more tremors followed in quick succession. I felt a fine mist of dust spray down onto me.

 

“How close?” the man demanded again.

 

“Show some backbone and get to work.”

 

There were some metallic noises, like metal scraping against metal, and the humming in the air grew in volume, getting thicker. My heart was pounding, adrenaline swelling me, making the straps intolerable. My hat went off to whoever had designed and applied the straps—they were fucking world-class. I made a mental note to find out what the fuck they were made of and have a whole suit made from it.

 

I swiveled my eyes around, trying to catch a glimpse. “Hey, buddy,” I said, keeping my grin in place. “Hey, what’s your name?”

 

There was a pause without any noise at all, and I imagined them standing there making faces at each other.

 

“He’s making a list of people to kill,” she said, sounding amused.

 

“Well, fuck,” the man said. “In that case I’m not giving you my
name.
”

 

She laughed, a delightful, musical sound I immediately wanted to hear again. “His name is Dr. Clarence Hiram Kendall, Mr. Cates. Please do kill him if you ever have the chance. He’s very annoying.”

 

“You’re a cunt.”

 

“
You’re
a cunt, Clarence. Just prepare the cocktail for this waste of skin—just make up kits as fast as you can. I’ve got all fifteen labs humming and they’re still coming down.”

 

“Lovely.”

 

I heard her soft flat heels moving away from me, and then the soft sigh of the swinging doors. Moving my eyes and head about, I tried to catch a glimpse of my new friend, but I could only hear him puttering around, clinking things together and muttering something under his breath. I strained my arms until they hurt, grunting softly with effort, but there was no give at all, and I started to wonder if maybe this was where the rail terminated for me. All that bullshit, for