We were travelling down a poorly lit concourse on the way to the Commercial District. Our journey from the docks had been a silent one, though it had been occasionally broken by Sean’s exciting description of what we could expect to find upon arrival. He was busy humming now whilst floating childishly above us. I largely remembered what he had said. That it was truly a monument to capitalist success. That it was the second largest part of the station, beaten only by the Centre for Administration which, due to the top heavy nature of the United World, was supposed to be unsurprising.
The concourse had soon gone from empire-of-the-state to hegemony-of-the-commercial. Every few yards there were wall mounted screens each bearing a new video advert. The adverts activated as we passed them and the sound coming from them had made us all jump the first couple of times. If I was honest, I jumped every time. Despite this I was gradually calming myself down and starting to pay attention to the advertisements around me. It was amazing how much you could learn about a civilisation through what it bought.
On the surface these adverts seemed to be run of the mill. There were adverts for fragrances, beauty and food. It was only once I paid a little more attention to the words that I realised the true nature of these adverts. They were a revolution in thinking. The first one that I really noticed was an advert for a fragrance. A beautiful, tanned and blonde woman was being filmed in a provocative manner from a rolling camera angle. But it was the words which were different. The narrator voiced in the background, ‘Prepare for an evolution in scent,’ her voice was deep and seductive. ‘Be beautiful everyday.’
The voice that dripped like honey continued, ‘get the new genetic fragrance from Ar’nesh. Available from your local medicare clinic.’
Another advert poised in a slightly less serious manner featured an overwhelmed looking man. A sympathetic narrator asked his dishevelled companion, ‘are you over worked, overloaded, maxed out? Do you find it hard to get through the daily grind?’ He paused long enough for his client to nod and the continued, ‘well now, there is a solution. Ascension Working Innovations brings you a new level of reality. A condensed, fully augmented, Immersive Virtual connection. Literally see your data. Interface with your surroundings just by being there. The new Armarge Core transfers the data straight into your temporal lobes and uses your visual centres to show you the data you really need. Say goodbye to your touch-pad, embrace your future.’
At the next wall screen a more sinister advert played. Set in the forefront of a blue hallucinogenic background stood a grey haired man. Instantly it was obvious that he was a man of power. I recognised him from one of the visions.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, over the last few years I have been telling you about the dream of Ascension. It was just two years ago that we got a hold of that dream, that we embraced our infinite capacity for power. Now each and every one of you can touch the Promethean Layer, can hold a little part of the face of God. Our Infinite Longevity project has given each and every one of us the ability to live longer than we can even imagine.’ He paused and breathed deeply.
‘But now, ladies and gentlemen, our allocation of the Promethean Layer is running out. Today many of you live in fear of tomorrow. But I have brought you your salvation. In this hour I will give you the next stage in our genetic revolution. From now on you need never fear a loss in our services. You need never fear the loss of perfection.’ He paused again creating a dramatic rise in tension.
‘Today I give you The Eye of Orion. A device that allows unlimited access to the Promethean Layer. Tomorrow, as ever, I give you Ascension.’ The screen faded to black. Text washed up onto the screen which stated ‘embrace the genetic revolution.’
Aeniah growled like an animal each time one of the adverts played. It had been some time now and it still seemed as if she would not accept that these adverts were inevitably going to be played. As if she expected the next to be the last. But still the concourse arched onwards and still the adverts played.
‘Sean,’ she shouted. ‘Is there any way of shutting these things down? If the citizens are waiting for us this is going to give away our position like an explosive charge.’
Sean paused his humming. ‘Perhaps there is a way. The adverts are a peripheral function of Ascension’s systems, they will not be heavily protected. There is a power distributer ahead. I would simply suggest removing the access panel and shooting it. This will power off only the screens as the lights are classed as a critical system and so are heavily protected and multiply redundant.’
Aeniah practically ran at the distributer. She tore off the panel with inhuman strength borne out of anger. She raised her small pistol and a high pitch whine could be heard as it powered up some tremendous charge. She fired the pistol. The small distributer blew apart. The screens made a popping sound and turned off. The lights, true to Sean’s prediction, remained on.
Without the distraction of the adverts I was able to admire the level of detail that the designers of Ascension had gone to. This concourse was not even a main route into the Commercial District and yet it was furnished with an opulence that could scarcely have been described. The walls for example were a black matt metal, but they had been finished with a layer of clear glossy ceramic. This gave off a shine that was simply unbelievable. Curved chrome lamps, like double swords, shone a flickering blue across the glossy material. Recessions in the walls contained floodlit waterfalls or sculptures that had holos of water or nature flashing upon them, bouncing off them, flying into them. The concourse was divided by a silver and glass, waist high partition. The high curved roof was also lit from behind in an array of colours, all of which shifted and morphed along its decadently patterned surfaces. Much like everything in Ascension a simple concourse was huge in composition. It could have fit a hundred of us in breadth alone. I looked to my feet and saw to my surprise a patterned marble floor. The station was truly a wonder.
‘So how much farther is it?’ I asked.
‘The Commercial District is still a considerable distance from here. It appears that Blue Dawn’s time projection may be a little optimistic,’ Sean replied levelly. He resumed his humming with his usual amiability.
Aeniah seemed impatient, she began to hammer her pistol against her thighs as she walked, each of her fingers rolled in between each loud slap. Finally she broke her silence. ‘So I don’t suppose that there is any other way of getting there a little faster?’
Sean flew ahead of her, spun to face her, and flew backwards at her walking pace. He started humming in a monotone and then after just a moment he replied, ‘there is no faster way to get to the Centre for Administration without using the highway system. The closest access to which is in the Commercial District. The docks were deliberately kept separate from the main transport hubs in case of an invasion. The route is deliberately designed to be a great length from the dock and is highly defensible due to its narrow confines, as are the science wards and the detention facilities. However there may be a faster way of reaching the Commercial District from here. Whilst the high-speed lev-rail networks and other primary transport infrastructure is too heavily damaged for use, there may still be local interlink trams that can be used. I am only suggesting this as a possibility because this concourse has received little, if any, damage. The interlink runs in parallel to this concourse and the nearest station is coming up on our left. In one hundred and fifty meters there should be a sign which has a symbol depicting a square with three arrows running through it. There no guarantees that the tram will be in working order.’
‘Well that’s good enough for me. Alright people keep the pace up. With me now! Everybody cover the intersection, you know what to do.’ Without even finishing her final word she took off at a sprint. After a moment of pause we all began to run together. Each of our paces was completely in sync. The entire concourse thudded to the metrical rhythm of our boots. If anything was waiting for us round that corner I was sure that they would know that we were coming.
We were ap
proaching the sign; it had only just become visible. The sign dimmed and shone as the bright yellow arrows intersected the rectangular symbol. The corner appeared darker than the rest of the well lit concourse, but I was sure that it was just my imagination. Aeniah showed no signs of slowing and our feet banged mercilessly upon the floor. Suddenly I saw Aeniah dive, she rotated in mid-air and landed on her knees facing the direction of the interlink, her gun was at the ready. I moved in behind her, a moment later, with my breathe held. The rest of our unlikely group fell in around us. We did not breathe as each of our devices switched to night vision or began to illuminate the darkness ahead.
There was nothing to see but the flickering of lights which were activating in anticipation of our arrival. Crouching low to the ground we stepped slowly into the ever brightening walkway. The walkway had an arched ceiling. It was not as wide as the concourse but it was certainly wide enough. Here there were no adverts. It seemed as though this was not the primary way by which to get to the interlink. Ahead a tall pillar flashed on. It came to life with a musical little number. Above its cylindrical body there was a floating holo stating information directory. We passed it with little concern.
The interlink could not have been far away. I was not sure how distance used to be measured but the numerals on the roof of the walkway were gradually counting down. It had moved from two symbols side by side to one. If my estimation of United World numeracy was correct there were only five more digits before we arrived. And just then I saw the characteristic change in the shade of colour that indicated a new place. If this walkway was coloured with a cream marble then the room ahead, whatever it may be, was certainly a very sooty grey.
I could see it now. The tension was visible among my companions. In truth I felt it too. The shaky way they walked, almost mechanically, gave away their true feelings. Even Aeniah seemed coiled like a viper awaiting some unknown threat. It was what we could see before us that was causing all the tension. We were but meters away, and yet even from this distance it was obvious that all was not well ahead. Abigail, the most obviously nervous of the group, made a motion as if to ask to turn back. But we all ignored her, the concourse was going to take too long, and if we needed to fight we may be too tired after a journey of that length.
We had made it to the opening of the interlink station. There were torn off screens everywhere. Everything had that burnt peeling look that was so distinctive of Ascension. My lancer swiped to thermal, but there was nothing there. Aeniah stepped over the threshold. I covered her as she entered and then slipped in behind her. Without the interference of the light of the walkway the innards of the station were much clearer.
The first thing to note is that in fact there was some light. Amongst the huge columns that supposedly held up the roof, were clusters of bulbs. This light was dim and appeared more for decoration than for purpose. It appeared that Carvelle had gone for an age-gone-by aesthetic to the place. There was actual paint covering the walls. I knew this because it had peeled dreadfully under the heat of the weapons exchange that had brought Ascension to its knees. To me Ascension seemed like a living monument to the depths that humanity could sink. On the one hand it still held the seductive promise of becoming a God, but on the other it showed, in each of its isolated pockets, what we would inevitably use this power for.
Amongst the clutter of the station, its overturned stands and broken architecture, was the tram. Incredibly it still remained attached to its overhead tracks. I noticed that although it was badly burnt and in need of restoration it appeared to be usable. The tram was constructed in an old fashioned style. It had none of the neat lines and sleek curvature of the rest of Ascension. It was decorated with gold filigree which created an opulent vibe. The paint was green and there was real glass functioning as windows. This was much in contrast with the perfectly transparent membranes that usually covered Ascension. I knew it was real glass because it was dirty. Membranes were self cleaning.
After taking in the sights we slowly inched our way towards the tram. I jumped down from the station and onto the tracks. The short grooves catching at my feet as I crossed over to the tram. Aeniah was still in front. She had her gun held in a grip so tight I was certain that it would shatter. But the ancient device kept on working.
With a tremendous kick of her right leg she broke open the tram door. There was no noise inside. The lights on the tram flickered in anger at the intrusion. There was still too little light to see clearly. The silence pervaded everything, it seemed to impress itself upon you, make you really fear. Aeniah had disappeared into the tram, the glass was too burned to make her out clearly.
I moved up the steps and into it. The smell inside was awful. Almost predictably I saw the bodies, each in a frozen position of terror. These bodies appeared to have been cut and slashed and not burnt. There was no motion. The smell, however, did not seem to be coming from the bodies, they had been flash frozen in the station when Ascension powered down. Instead the stench seemed to be coming from one of the forward carriages. Aeniah motioned for me to go first. The others were only just making their way onto the tram.
I placed my fingers on top of the handle. Ever so gently I massaged the handle down. It let out just the faintest of squeaks. Almost as if in slow motion I pushed the firmly shut door open. It moved without grace, but thankfully without sound. My hand retreated quickly but silently. I raised my lancer back to my shoulder and stared down the scope.
Instantly I saw what was creating the stench. A body ahead had become extremely bloated through a process of decay I did not understand. The levels of putrefaction were far more advanced than any of the other bodies that I had encountered. I knew that the body was dead, stone dead, at least until I saw it move.
A faint twitch perhaps, perhaps it was nothing. I squeezed my fingers a little more firmly around the trigger. I should have been a mad man, it would have made life easier. Then there was another much more obvious twitch. My heart burnt with fear. Then whole body shook and released more of that foul odour. Perhaps it was some totally explainable phenomena, like severed heads that keep on talking. But again it twitched. The sight was beginning to unnerve me. Then its arm twitched twice and then flexed itself. This was no dead thing.
The bloated corpse raised itself to its feat giving out a tremendous screech as it did so. In terror I pulled the trigger. The corpse was still facing away from me. But it did not fall. I pulled the trigger again, and to my horror saw nothing happen. Neither shot had fired. Now the corpse was beginning to turn as if sensing my presence. I desperately continued to squeeze the trigger. I hammered away at it with my finger but it simply would not respond.
Then I saw its face. The face was something that simply could not have belonged to a human being, and yet it was so very human. His eyes bulged. His face was puffy and yellow. The lips were dry and had receded to the point that there was no longer a chance of the upper and lower ever meeting. On his chest was a huge wound which had long ago stained his sweater. The dried blood was so old that it was almost black and was flaking off. I had no idea how this figure remained standing without even any blood coursing through his veins.
His huge yellow eyes finally locked onto me. The disgusting lips twitched upwards in an attempt at a smile. But the muscle was so wasted that only the faintest twitch at the corners could be observed. I pulled the trigger again but nothing happened. He began to stumble towards me in an almost comical fashion.
Those huge inflated arms came towards me. I rammed my lancer into the creatures face. But with so much damage already inflicted upon the creature I knew that this would cause little more than a distraction to his murderous rampage. Behind me Aeniah was swearing, her pistol had also failed to fire. I was by myself, the narrowness of the tram prevented Aeniah from getting ahead of me.
He closed his hand against my shoulder, I desperately pulled back trying to get free. He was too strong, even with such a level of muscle decay. I kicked out getting him in the stomach and he relea
sed me. I ran backwards as fast as I was able in the narrow confines of the tram. He began to lurch forward drunkenly again. There was little I could do now to prevent the inevitable. He was so close I could smell the necrotic stench of his breathe.
To my right glass shattered and the creature was hit by a hundred holes. A second later and my mind processed the sound of automatic rifle fire. The rifle fire stopped. I looked out of the broken window to my right and saw Abigail smiling at me. She was holding her large black assault rifle casually. I smiled my thanks but something whacked into the back of my head.
I was on the ground now. I could not see much from the floor but the feet of the corpse. With shock I realised, from the orientation of his feet, that he was still standing, no, moving. I could hear more automatic fire and then heard the unmistakable thud of the creature again hitting the deck. There was a second thud. I strained my eyes to see that the second thud was the sound of the creature's head impacting the floor. Its blood was yellow.
I was still too dizzy to stand, but I knew that the rifle fire must have been sustained for such a long period of time that it would have severed, piece by piece, the creature’s head. This had definitely prevented any further movement. There was something else that occurred to me and it was that if just one bloated figure took this long to kill, how on earth we were supposed to be able to get all the way to the Centre for Administration and then to a Xenith class vessel. In short, we were going to die.
As I was on the ground I began to hear voices, loads of them. My vision began to wash away. Colour drained itself from my surroundings. I got gingerly to my feet. The colour was beginning to flood back into the world. In that moment I realised that I was having yet another vision of the past. With frustration I wondered why these visions only seemed to come right in the middle of the most dangerous parts of my journey.
All around the tram there were people waiting and bustling. The bright gold filigree of the tram reflected off all the surfaces of the station. The station itself was bright and gleaming. Sparkling gold rails added a wintery texture to the surroundings. The clothing of the commuters was of a strange composition. In Bataga I was used to a plethora of cultures, each wearing incredibly differing garments. And yet here there was very little in the way of radically differing styles. I also noticed that many of the women on the platform wore the same strange garments as Blue Dawn. Instead of being divided into trouser legs they simply continued down as one. Furling outwards or slashed along the side they ran down to differing heights. Some left little to the imagination, others trailed across the floor.
Some of the commuters had a strange sort of holo floating around their eyes. It seemed to display media of some description. The crowd seemed to bustle and heave. Everyone was weary. Two angels waited at the station. Each of the crowd would touch a part of them and gasp in rapture. Some would correct cosmetic errors on their faces with the Promethean Layer, others would use it to lift their heavy bags onto the trains. All the while the angels endured their jostling and pushing without expression. The impatience of the commuters seemed to manifest itself in the rough treatment of the Equinox subjects. Around the angel's shoulders was a sash which contained the words empower yourselves, empower the people.
For one reason or another one of the angels seemed to refuse one man access. ‘What the hell. You, Equinox, supply now!’ But still the angel resisted. The man drew a firearm and placed it against the angel’s head, he spoke coldly. ‘Provide me access, I command you.’ He was sweating from his forehead. His hands were shaking and the gun would not stay level.
The angel whispered something into his ear. I should not have been able to hear it from this distance but it seemed that I could hear despite the void between us. ‘For everything there is a price. For the power of a god the price is always the highest. He will take away your soul.’ And then the angel bowed her head. A fraction of a second later the gunman blew her brains out. The crowd cheered in euphoria. A single tear dripped from the other angel’s eyes as she saw her sister fall. In the background, just for a second, I heard a man cry out. I spun to find him, but could not. Scanning the crowd I saw him, at last. He was obvious only because he had not joined in with the cheering. Next to him was a woman of great height and her face displayed an expression such as one who had just witnessed true evil for the first time. I saw that expression again and again in the faces of those in the crowd, but there were so few of them.
As the tall woman and the man who cried out reached the platform I watched them intently. They both placed their hands into the angel's and kissed her on the cheek. The other commuters seemed not to notice. And then they did something curious. The woman, with the greatest of stealth, took a syringe from her pocket. Hiding it with her open palm she placed it into the angel's side and depressed the plunger. The angel closed its eyes and gazed upon them with thanks. In a moment, almost without me noticing, the two had disappeared. I scanned my eyes to find them and saw them leaving the station. I looked around the crowd to find any of the others that I had seen in silent protest. I could see none of them. It appeared that they had all left station. I wondered where they had gone.
The vision ended its little sequence. The characters in this ethereal play ceased their motions, suspended forever in time. The sound drained, sucked away forever, into the past. These visions did not belong in my memory, they belonged to the dead. It was so strange to take these memories from them. In the final moments of the visions conclusion I saw something amazing. The once damaged and beaten angel glistened with light. A rainbow of patterns shone all over her. And with a smile she outstretched her snow white wings, as raindrops that shimmered like rainbows bounced upon her feathers. She raised her triumphant head and soared into the sky. And with that the vision truly ended.
My head was on fire, it throbbed as though I had drunk an exceptional quantity of alcohol the night before. When the throbbing gradually diminished I gently eased myself onto my knees, and without any speed at all heaved myself to my feet. But the ground was uneven and I staggered once I had reached my summit. I turned to look through the broken glass and found that the train had already begun to move. A disembodied voice announced ‘welcome to Greenline interlink tramways. Your next station is Integral Plaza. This service will terminate at the Grand Concourse, Commercial District. Casting is prohibited within the confines of this tram. We hope that you enjoy your ride.’
A guy tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face him. It was Kolven. Harris and Abigail were huddled together on one of the trams seats, despite the temperature being relatively mild. Aeniah and Sean were visible in the driver's compartment talking in whispers.
‘You okay buddy?’ Kolven asked. I nodded in response. ‘Say, George right?’ Again I nodded. ‘You don’t think you could use some of that magic, what Blue Dawn was going on about, to get us out of here? I mean, I just wanna go home, you gotta take me there. Right? You got it? I can’t die here man.’ He was squeezing me quite tightly.
I was fairly nervous but tried to keep my voice calm and kind. ‘Kolven, this ability doesn’t work like that. I know you really want to go home, but I can't take you there. It just doesn't work like that.’
Kolven pushed me. ‘No, you don’t understand buddy,’ his voice had taken one a wild texture. ‘I can’t stay here much longer. You get me? I can’t cope for much longer. I want out. I want my home. Take me home George, take me home.’
I softened my voice, just a touch. ‘You do remember, don’t you Kovlen? Earth was destroyed. You have no home. Home is right here with us. We are here to make ourselves a new home. But first that home has to be free from the effects of the artefact. You do understand don’t you?’
But Kolven could not be reasoned with. He began to rave about getting the fuck out of here. Aeniah had been distracted by this and had wandered up next to him at a violent pace. But as she got there he suddenly fell silent and just stared off into the distance. ‘That’s better,’ said Aeniah. She was about to turn arou
nd and go back to the drivers compartment when an expression crossed her face.
‘Kolven?’ she enquired. ‘Kolven can you hear me?’ But there was no response. Aeniah moved towards the figure that was now standing perfectly still. His face had gained a sort of transparent mesmerised complexion to it. There was a small amount of saliva tracing its way from the corner of his mouth on an inexorable path to the ground.
‘I think he might be gone, Aeniah,’ I whispered.
Aeniah raised her gun to his temple. His eyes did not even track towards the weapon. He did not even seem to breathe any longer. She placed her lips against his lips and kissed him. Kolven seemed to sag a little, as if some invisible substance had been drawn from him. ‘Forgive me,’ Aeniah whispered. She turned the pistol to its lowest setting and with great regret pulled the trigger. There was no mess, only the tiniest of holes perforated Kolven’s skull. He stayed on his knees for a while before he rolled over onto the ground.
For some reason a great compulsion came across me not to go anywhere near him. The dead seemed to have this annoying little habit of getting up and walking around whilst I was about. I left Abigail and Harris to it. They seemed to be perfectly at ease with the body of their friend lying next to them. Well perhaps not perfectly at ease, but they seemed to be dealing with it a lot better than I was.
In a huge act of courage, excuse the sarcasm, I walked away from my fears and went to join Aeniah and Sean in the drivers compartment. ‘So how far do we have to go?’ I asked.
‘Not that far,’ replied Sean. ‘Aeniah and I are thinking of disembarking at the penultimate station to the Commercial District and walking the rest of the way down the lines. This will significantly increase our ability to remain relatively covert.’
‘Aeniah, why did our guns give out just then? We are not going to be of any use unless we can actually return fire.’
‘The guns are powered by Blue Clarity. Blue Clarity functions by drawing a very small amount of power from the Promethean Layer. This tiny amount of power is allowed to decay in a reaction chamber until it releases electricity in huge quantities. It stands to reason that anything distributing or containing significant quantities of the Promethean Layer’s energy may well be able to disrupt our weapons’ energy production.’
‘But wait just a moment,’ I said to her, ‘you’re telling me that that thing was casting?’
‘No, not at all. Look George, that thing should have been dead. From the cerebral scarring that Sean detected we have concluded that he was probably a heavy user. It seems that the Promethean Layer doesn’t just give you the power of a god, it can bring you back from the dead. Motherfucker must have been conserving his energy ‘till he had something to kill. The only way to take them down seems to be to shoot them in the head. The body can't move without the brain.’
Sean interrupted close to hysterics. ‘That is exactly right. The caster's store the energy within their brains. This remnant of the Promethean Layer is what is keeping them alive. Damaging the brain, even a little, will result in the loss of this energy. Taking away this energy is rather like shutting off the life support system to an intensive care patient.’
Aeniah rolled her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said sarcastically, ‘it is exactly like killing the elderly and infirm.’
The train ground to a halt with a screech. We looked about but saw no station, everywhere was pitch black.
‘Strange,’ said Sean, ‘the station should be on our right.’ I raised my lancer and with relief I saw that it had come to life. The screen swiped to night vision. Through the green haze I could make out the tall distinctive columns of the station. Aeniah appeared to see the same thing and she relaxed a little. Abigail and Harris were very tense. I moved over to them and motioned for them to come close to me. The tram was emitting too much light. If anything was out there in the darkness they would be able to see us a mile off. My lancer swiped to thermal but nothing was visible.
Each of us silently climbed out of the window. The tram creaked and hissed. Aeniah and I were now the only effective combative force, the others could not use the flashlights on their rifles for fear of giving away our position. The station made no sound. The air seemed to be thick, as if it had not been circulated in years. I reminded myself that given the damage done to these sections it was very possible that I was breathing in the same air that the citizens of Ascension were breathing all of those years ago.
We softly stepped along the side of the tram. Still there was no noise, no movement on my scope. Sean had shut off his little blue light. When I took my eyes away from the scope I saw just how dark the tunnel that we were heading towards was. There was literally no way that I could see further than a foot in front of me.
We were in the tunnel now. The lights from the tram had fed off into the distance. Abigail had placed her hand around my waist so that I would navigate her through the tunnel and Harris had placed his around Aeniah. I was not certain at first how Aeniah was navigating. She had no scope and no flashlight to see with. It was then that I heard her whispering to Sean and complaining about his camera angle. She must be seeing a visual feed from Sean’s camera. I started to pay attention again. The scope was revealing little of interest, a pipe here, a pipe there. The journey so far had seemed to take an age.
Gradually, ever so gradually, I began to see an end to the tunnel. The pipes and rails seemed to end at a grey blur. This, I was sure, would be the end of the line. The shapes began to grow into many shapes. And each of those shapes gradually became more defined. A series of structures perhaps?
I stared intently down the scope awaiting the promise of treasures Ascension had been so keen to make us aware of. I almost didn’t notice the targeting reticule go red. That was strange. The reticule only went red when there was a target present. Sean had said that it would recognise most targets and use a series of ballasts in order to guide the users hand towards the target. Sean acknowledged that innovations such as these had somewhat reduced the average United World citizens' capacity to adapt to the loss of such technology after the wars.
I looked at the menu options and tried to find out what the problem was with the device. But the device reported no issues. Instead it offered to explain the reason for the targeting scenario. I confirmed. Within a moment it zoomed straight into the problem, and the problem was a horde. There was a mass of them seething forwards. At this distance it was almost impossible to hear them, but the new resolution of the lancer allowed me some clarity of sight. It was beyond anything I could imagine, so many shapes were writhing about the image from my scope that I could scarcely make out any individual in the seething mass.
Gradually, ever so gradually, I noticed something very important. This mass of bodies was not moving in a poorly arranged confusion, they were moving with a purpose, they were moving towards us. We must have been making more sound than I thought. For a moment I was dumbfounded. Then I screamed, ‘Aeniah, they're coming.’ She looked towards me in confusion. Slowly I saw the white light of her eyes flick upwards through the green haze and consulted with to Sean. In a moment her face changed from confusion to worry and from worry to horror.
‘What should we do?’ I screamed. Aeniah was beginning to rush forward in a crouch.
‘Just fucking shoot them. Put yourselves in automatic and start firing,’ she shouted back loudly.
I looked down the side of my lancer and flicked the toggle into auto. The gun whined in response as it began to charge. The side light went green indicating full readiness. I pulled the gun up in their general direction and began to fire. The lancer selected its targets and dispatched them with ease. Aeniah and the others began firing equally indiscriminately. Sean appeared to dart forward at a tremendous speed towards them. Soon he was away in the distance. I looked back through the scope of my wildly firing lancer and watched a small flame of energy drop from Sean. I stopped firing as my scope went white. The whole tunnel shook with the force of the explosion. I could just hear the humming
of Sean as he whooshed his way back towards us.
I looked back through the scope at the fading white light and could see nothing. Then I saw the damage. There was a pile of strewn bodies lying across the surface of the tunnel. But climbing over those bodies was the rest of the horde. Aeniah must have seen it too because her pistol began to let rip just a couple of moments after I began to return fire. They were gaining on us.
With the tunnel illuminated by the energy rounds that we were firing Abigail and Harris appeared to have enough light to at least get a direction of fire. They had let go of our waists and were firing their projectiles in rapid succession at the unseen targets. Both of their torches switched on. The view along the tunnel was not great, but if I was honest, neither was the night vision. The lancer had obviously seen better days.
‘Are we getting enough of them,’ asked Harris.
‘No, we're not even making a dent in them,’ Aeniah responded in a scream.
We continued firing nevertheless. Sean's little explosive trick had seemed to be a one off. He was no longer participating in the fight but seemed to be working instead as Aeniah's eyes. They were communicating with each other. Or more accurately Aeniah was shouting whilst Sean deferentially complied with some nondescript answer.
The horde continued its inevitable surge towards us. It was like trying to stop the tide. A battle we could never hope to win. My lancer's overheat warning began to sound and a flame symbol appeared in the scope screen. I continued firing, ten down, now twenty. But nothing was enough. They were close enough now for Abigail and Harris to see by flashlight alone. But even with this improved accuracy there was not enough fire power. I wished that my angel was with me, that I could draw upon its incredible power and use it to get rid of all of these murderous villains.
But I wished in vain. It seemed like Blue Dawn was right, they would only ever come if they really wanted to. I searched about us for something, anything that would get us out of this mess. My eyes scanned the tunnel, there was nothing, the flashlights revealed too little. I raised my lancer in desperation. Through the scope I could make out something. I let rip with the automatic and ran towards the left hand side of the tunnel. I moved with lightning speed but still it seemed too slow. They were so close now.
I reached the side and fumbled with the round wall. My hands soon found a purchase. Scrabbling with my fingers I found a handle. Thank fate. It was a door, probably a service entrance. It was amazing the amount of convenient things that could be found on Ascension. There were methods of escape everywhere.
‘Follow me,’ I screamed at my companions. At first they did nothing, transfixed by the incoming horde. It was only as Abigail and Harris's flashlights illuminated the door that they ran with relief to its opening. I forced my way through the narrow opening first. The others scrambled in one after the other. Aeniah was last and she slammed the door shut with a frightening strength. We were all gasping for air, sure that all the oxygen in the world was running out.
‘This won't hold them for long,’ Aeniah shouted. Sure enough there was a tremendous bang upon the door. The force of so many infected slamming at the door caused it to rattle on its hinges. We turned about the service tunnel and ran in the direction of the Commercial District. We ran with all our speed. There were some small lights that ran along the length of the service tunnel. These gave just enough light to run by and we seized the opportunity with both hands. We desperately grabbed at our one hope of salvation and ran blindly onward, anywhere, everywhere.
Something grabbed at my shoulder. I fell to the ground, not for the first time in the last twenty minutes, and heard automatic rifle fire. Unlike in my previous fall I managed to climb to my feet swiftly and found that the offending article had been pulverised. Perhaps she had once been a rail technician. She was dressed in a high visibility jacket. She looked strangely peaceful where she lay, without a torso. I didn't even bother to look around me, to find out what was going on. Instead I was possessed by a fear that drove me forwards, unseeing.
We were reaching the end of the service tunnel now. A sealed archway presented itself directly in front of us. Aeniah hammered at it, but the wall sealing the archway off was too firm.
‘Okay, so does anyone have any explosives,’ she called.
In the corner of my eye I spotted a familiar red symbol. With my right hand outstretched I pressed my palm against it. The symbol flashed, rotated, and turned green. A door to the left of the archway slid open. Aeniah did not seem very amused by the door upstaging her and she punched its metal frame on her way through. The door sealed itself behind us, preventing the horde from pursuing us further. There must have been thousands of them.
We had arrived at a station right at the opening of the Commercial District. This station was different from the others. The first difference was that it had no roof, no tall columns supporting it up. Instead it reached up into the never ending distance. We were in amongst the clouds. We were in the bloody sky.
I looked up and up and up. I gasped with incredulity. There was a sky. The station really was suspended in the air. It was blue, as blue as is the ocean. It was a lit by a series of white stars. They were held aloft in a straight line across this wonderful blue sea of air. Despite myself I laughed with the sheer pleasure of seeing it. The Commercial District, according to the maps of Ascension, covered a huge circular chunk of the station. It was two hundred Ascension sized floors high and spanned a distance calculated in the tens of miles.
Reaching like the fingers of God into the heavens of this blue ocean were skyscrapers of an immense proportion. They were concentrated in the far off and mist shrouded centre of the district. Each was a work of sheer brilliance. Some reached upwards in an impossible curve narrowing to a seemingly infinite point. Others arched from several points and met high above the heavens, some supporting other massive structures in their lofty heights. There were towers made of pure light, they shone with an ethereal glow, tinged with an electric blue. Most impressive were the garden structures. They were artificial towers that looped and curved and plateaued. Surrounding them was a twisting mass of plant life that became forests and lakes on each of their many plateaus. Many of the flatlands dripped water from them, which turned to a mist that reflected patterns of coloured light onto the surrounding buildings.
Such was the beauty of Ascension. In its time it would have been one of the most incredible things ever to have been produced. But here, today, it was clear that it had not escaped the scars of the nemesis that had befallen its greater whole.
Where once I was sure there would have been huge columns of grassland, divided by trees from the surrounding sky-scrapers, there was now just ashen surfaces. The trees and plant life that surrounded the scrapers had lost much of its green lustre. The rivers just visible from my sight were still an incredible blue, but they were no longer clear, and the light no longer shimmered across its surface. Whilst the suns still shone brightly and gave life to an awesome vision, the distance was now dim, where once, I am sure, it would have been clear.
We were standing on the edge of the interlink station. My hands were resting upon a thigh high glass wall. The station was raised upon a platform which cut out into an expanse of air and showed off the incredible vista. I wondered with all the power of my imagination just what it would have been like to be there, to live as they had lived.
Then I felt the familiar sensation. How convenient these visions were. It was almost funny that I had complained about their timing before. The world washed out to a grey. My vision reformed elsewhere. I was no longer standing with my friends on that raised platform but in amongst the crowds of the city.
The colour returned. The brightness of the place was incredible. But the noise was even greater. There were so many people making so much noise. What impressed me most is that there was no anger and no hostility in the voices of those around me. They were all laughing, smiling and hugging one another.
I was being dragged along by t
he rest of the crowd. They pushed me gently along the great grassy walkway and towards the immense skyline in front of me. I was soon pushed up an embankment that led onto a glass square raised above the ground. The glass square had a series of roads leading off it, each of which climbed into the art forms above our heads. The square, true to Ascension's design, was epic in proportion. In the centre was a circular pool of water with a fountain shaped like one of the angels in the middle. The water was not like any water that I had seen before. It appeared to have a living light swirling within it. It shot up in an explosion of colour and dived down on a wave, unbroken by the force of the air.
I looked around again and saw a face that I recognised. He was one of the liberators from the station. He had dissented from the crowd and freed a helpless angel. But this vision made no sense. The Equinox subjects were clearly venerated. Not only was the fountain a testament to the peoples appreciation of the angels and their work, but the floating holos showed instructions of how to treat the Equinox subjects as special citizens, to love them, to keep them safe.
On my right stood two angels, it seemed that they would only go around in pairs. These angels appeared contented. Whilst the others had been on edge, these appeared comfortable, even happy. They held each other’s hands and smiled at the people passing them by. They did not stand apart and await the inevitable. Most shockingly of all I noted that they were talking to the people. A mother, or guardian, had taken their child up to them and they were laughing and talking with one another. The sun shone between them as the mother raised a camera to take a photo of them all in play.
The child seemed to draw in his breathe and before him blossomed a fantastic visual display. Light, like water, was dancing and spinning before him. I understood that he must be drawing from the angels and casting. It was incredible. The beacons of civilisation in the background of the photo's range described a future I wanted to be a part of. The casting of the magic water somehow seemed more useful than anything else Ascension had managed to produce. It was purer, it was better than the vestigial promise of Infinite Longevity. It was more fantastic than Immersive Virtual. It had a clear point and it warmed my heart.
I turned my attention back to the saboteur. He was not dressed so formally as before. In fact none of them were. I looked through the transparent floor beneath me and saw not a mist of grey clad officials, but an ocean of colour. The sight was like a painter’s palette. I lifted my eye back and found that the dissident was chatting and laughing with the tall lady besides him. She seemed happier somehow. In fact it dawned on me that everyone appeared ecstatic, with an enthusiasm that I had never ever seen in a populace before.
It suddenly occurred to me right then and there. My visions were only ever of critical events. They were confined spatially to the places I was travelling through. But if an event occurred of great importance there, then I would be shown exactly what happened. I sensed a coming moment. I knew that somehow, something was about to shatter my bliss.
The two angels were still holding hands. I saw one smile to the other. He appeared the more jovial of the two. The other responded with words I could not hear. His mouth moved with careful consideration. They were still holding hands as the beginning of the end walked near. I realised what he was about to do, perhaps even before he had. He was black clad, an outcast among the colour of the citizens. He was hunched a little and had a strange far-off look in his eyes. The angels did not even see him coming. I realised that this would be the last day of Ascension, the last day of paradise, before the station would reach the last scene in its final act.
A conversation between one of the angels and the man ensued. The sound was draining from the vision and I could hear nothing. The conversation seemed aggressive and my saboteur walked towards the three figures as if to intervene. The angel on the left ruffled his wings, but the other kept his wings still. The man in the black garment placed a small metal brick to the angel’s head, and he fell to the floor dead. The other angel fell still. He no longer ruffled his wings. In slow motion and with the colour fading from my vision I saw the crowds of people running from the gunshot. A woman's legs floating without noise. A man's hand slashing back and forth through the air, silently. I saw the tall lady and her accomplice run towards the man in black. The man in black's arm arced gracefully up towards the remaining angel’s head. Why wouldn't he run, why wouldn't he defend himself? Help him! I screamed in my head. The two saviours were lunging towards the man in black. Water burst slowly like rain from their footsteps, rainbows interspersed between every drop.
The man in black's arm reached the angel’s head, a blue flash and down he fell. They both lay on the ground, hand in hand, serenity was all amongst their faces. The tall lady opened her mouth screaming as she collapsed down towards the ground, her eyes flung out tears as she shook her head. I could hear none of her agony.
But before the vision faded I heard these words. ‘This is the way the world ends. May we be so lucky as to die on our feet.’ It was here that my vision of the world caved. I woke overlooking the damaged Eden with my companions by my side.
13