Dethroned 2 Read online

  Dethroned

  Act 2

  Jim Kozak

  Dethroned – Act II © 2019 by Jim Kozak. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Written and Published by Jim Kozak

  Edited by Laura Pajot

  Cover Art and Design by Jeff Brown

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Electronic Publication: Dec 2019

  Jim Kozak

  ISBN-13 978-1-7326108-2-8

  For whoever decided to listen.

  This probably wouldn’t exist without you.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue:

  Chapter Ten:

  Chapter Eleven:

  Chapter Twelve:

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Chapter Fifteen:

  Chapter Sixteen:

  Interlude:

  Chapter Seventeen:

  Chapter Eighteen:

  Chapter Ninteen:

  Chapter Twenty:

  Interlude:

  Chapter Twenty-One:

  Chapter Twenty Two:

  Chapter Twenty-Three:

  Epilogue

  Prologue:

  Up in Flames

  The day began just like any other for Tela. She woke up, flew through her morning routine, and grabbed a light breakfast in Shang-main’s massive cafeteria before setting out on her morning commute. The streets of Little Tokyo were sparse at this hour, and a pleasant breeze rolled around the buildings, spiriting away the early morning chill. Spring had arrived.

  It was her first in New Shanghai. Winter there hadn’t been nearly as cold as Chicago’s usually was, but she was happy to be past it all the same. She’d already decided that once her orders expired in August, she’d relocate somewhere with a warmer, more consistent temperature – like Brasilia or Cairo. The thought of it brought a pleasant smile to her lips as she stepped into the transit car that would take her to Lower Six.

  Life in the Lowers was a far cry from what she was used to up in the middle districts. Sunlight didn’t reach that far down most of the day, and failing infrastructure left large patches of pavement shrouded in darkness. Piles of trash and other refuse were everywhere, and the New Shanghai Security Force all but outright refused to even acknowledge the districts existed. Most residents of the Lowers lived unwashed, unemployed, and very much underfed, but the lowborn of Shanghai still endured – and she was there to help them. At least that’s what she told herself when she got up every morning. It helped.

  When she first arrived in the city, Tela met a man named Seth Kang – or that’s what he’d called himself. His real name was Ren-something. Renker? Rentwist? Renquist! That was it. Seth Renquist, the Spook.

  She didn’t find out who he really was until a few months after they first met. But the events that led to that discovery left her shaken up for weeks before routine and the necessity of her work made it fade away. It was the little lies that kept her going. Like how the last time she'd seen Seth, she’d told him that she didn’t know about her clinic’s true purpose when really, she’d been informed on day one. Upstairs, it truly was a medical clinic run by the military. Down below, however, was a hidden research facility tasked with testing all sorts of new formulas, medicines, and agents on human subjects.

  In the minds of the officers higher up the chain, nothing free should ever really come without a price. Nobody would care if a few handfuls of lowborn went missing, and nobody would care if knowledge of what they’d done ever got leaked. And so, they repurposed the clinic as a front to tag clean candidates for later acquisition. Thinking about it made Tela shudder as she stepped out of the transit car onto the densely packed streets of Lower Six.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d actually had high hopes for Sergeant Kang – er, Renquist. Lt. Commander Renquist. He was just shy of being too tall for her, nicely handsome in a very middleborn sort of way, and seemingly had a measure of wit just as quick as her own. It would’ve been a nice story to tell about how they'd met on the heliplane, parted, and ran into each other again sometime later. They could have grabbed lunch, or drinks. Then that might have turned into a few real dates, and then maybe something more. It was exactly the kind of thing she hoped to fall into one day, but that was not at all how it went down.

  They’d actually run into each other a few months later, one night down in the Lowers. Something had seemed off about him, like he was tense for reasons that went beyond their present location. It was too suspicious to let go, so she'd followed him. He snuck around the back of her clinic and broke in through a door that rarely got used. Part of her wanted to follow him inside and confront him personally, but protocol kicked in and she ended up calling Shang-main for backup. Seth was taken into custody shortly after, and...

  She froze. Tongues of bright, orange-red light flicked across the nearby buildings not far from her clinic. Now that she was paying attention, Tela could’ve sworn the temperature had gone up and it was getting a little harder to breathe. Panic started scratching at her, and she broke into a run toward the source of the flames.

  It's just one of the other buildings. Probably caused by faulty wiring, or a bad gas line. Or… She raced around the corner and froze once more. At the end of the street, her clinic was on fire. Her clinic. On fire. She stayed put for a second, then her legs began pulling her closer toward the inferno of their own accord. Why would anyone do this? It's a clinic…

  Her pack slumped off her shoulder, but she reflexively caught it before it hit the ground. She squinted at the flames. This has to be an accident, only an idiot would burn down a clinic. A military clinic. Unless...

  With her pack hanging limp in her hand, Tela stopped roughly one hundred feet away, and just watched. Her thoughts raced. Could this be the same group that hit Anvil's Fjord? Why would they strike here? She shook her head. What about the subjects down in the lower part of the facility? Shit. There might be people still down there. Shit. Shit. Shit. I have to do something...

  While her mind panicked along, the rest of Tela's body stayed motionless. Through the heat and smoke, she hadn't even noticed a man come up to stand next to her.

  “Beautiful, isn't it?” Even over the roar of the flames, she could still hear the silky purr of the man's voice.

  “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” She found herself saying. She hadn't intended to sound so distant, but her mind was still stuck on the people in the facility's basement – prisoners though they were.

  “Do you work here?” The man coughed. “Rather, did you work here?”

  Those people didn't deserve to die like this. No one does. She nodded.

  “Good!” There was a distinct pep to the man's purr, now. “Come with me.”

  What? Tela shook her head and turned to look at him. He was tall, and wore a long, grayish coat over some dark fatigues. His long, brown hair was tied into a tail that came down past his shoulders. His features pegged him as highborn, most likely. She shook her head, again.

  “Come on. Come, come, come.” He turned and started walking away from the flames. “Let's go.”

  She furrowed her brow and held firm. “There might still be people alive in there. We have to help them.”

  “No. Anyone left in there is already dead, or will be soon enough.” He glanced back at her. “The best we can do is find the peo
ple who did this, and you're going to help me with that.”

  “What?” Her furrow deepened. “Why? Who are you, anyway?”

  He spun, allowing his coat to billow back around him. “I work with the people who want to stop these attacks from proliferating. Now, come.”

  Tela arched an eyebrow. Attacks. As in plural? He must think this is linked to the attack on Anvil's Fjord. But that would mean...

  “You still haven't told me your name.”

  “Good God! You Earthborn and your endless questions.” he muttered, before raising his voice to normal. “My name is Sol-”

  The man stopped, and smiled to himself. “I am Scythe.”

  Great, another spook with a callsign...

  “Now if your inquiries are at an end,” Scythe turned, waving for her to follow. “Come with me, before I string you up and drag you along behind me. Further lives are at risk.”

  Before she could decide to go with the strange man, her legs were moving toward him. Something about his bearing told her that it was the right thing to do, but some small part of her mind screamed that she should get herself as far away from him as possible.

  Tela sighed.

  What is it with me and spooks...

  Chapter Ten:

  Among the Ashes

  Tunnels, in and of themselves, are very useful apertures. They allow people or other creatures to go from place to place and possibly circumvent things best avoided. Marcus hated tunnels. For someone his height, the ceilings were always too low. The air always felt too close. And too many warm bodies in such a confined space cranked the temperature way too high. Necessity brought him to this one. It was their safest bet to get out of the city. He just hoped that the man stumbling ahead of him didn’t collapse before they reached their destination. Wherever that was.

  It felt like they’d escaped into New Shanghai’s maintenance tunnels an age ago, but Marcus’s tab said it’d only been two hours since they lit up the research facility. They had yet to take a single break and he hadn’t heard any complaints out of the throng of newly liberated lowborn. Although a little rest would’ve been welcome, there just wasn’t enough time. The whole city was probably on high alert by now and Jens’s people couldn’t wait forever, but Marcus was sure Seth would get them there safely.

  Seeing the beaming smile on Seth’s face when the facility went up in a plume was enough to put Marcus’s mind at ease. This time, it was clear that they were in the right, but it didn’t make it any less hard to fathom. The five of them were technically revolutionaries now, and unlike their last operation, not a single person that could be spared had died. So far.

  The operation wasn’t without its fair share of casualties. There were still living subjects in seven out of the fifteen observation cells – all of whom were already at varying stages of soon to be dead. It was a mercy, as far as Marcus was concerned, that they all got turned to ash before they could scream. Or, as Frederik put it, the world was much safer now that they couldn’t accidentally unleash a new super-virus onto the world.

  These tunnels were not designed for people. Marcus ducked underneath another set of pipes. At best, not people my size. Barely three inches separated him from concrete on one side and the arrays of piping or wiring on the other. They passed ventilation ducts roughly every sixty paces, but hardly any breeze flowed out of them. Even without the added weight on his back, there was no way their escape would’ve been easy on him.

  Before they left the facility, Marcus nearly jumped at the chance to do the heroic thing, if only to get out of carrying one of the packs. At this point, part of him wished that good-natured, heroic side of him had taken the day off. That way, his neck wouldn’t feel like it was on fire.

  “How much farther?” an exhausted voice whispered in Marcus’s ear.

  “I don’t know.” He ducked under another vent. “Not long now, I think.”

  The woman clinging to his neck would’ve been left to burn with the facility if Marcus hadn’t stepped up. Everyone else on the team had their hands full, and none of the lowborn they rescued from the holding pen seemed fit enough to carry a woman with no legs. Tiredness aside, there was no way he was leaving her to die if he could do something about it.

  “Can you set me down for a minute? I need to give my arms a rest.”

  My whole fucking body needs a rest. Marcus thought before saying. “Not until we get to evac near Lower 3.”

  “Please...” The woman nuzzled into Marcus's neck. The touch of her hair on his shaved head sent a tingling sensation down his spine. “It would only be for a minute.”

  Marcus shook her away. “If I let you down to rest, and we lose the group, then what? I don’t know the route to the evac. We'd be completely lost.”

  “Just hang in there.” He looked back so he could see her in his peripheral vision. “If I can make it, so can you.”

  “Come on.” All pretense of seductiveness left her voice. “Thirty seconds, then.”

  “Not even that. Setting you down and picking you back up would take that long, minimum.” Marcus just barely noticed the man ahead of him turn right at the next junction with his head turned back like it was. “You'd barely get a breath in before we'd have to get going again.”

  “But I have to… You know… Go...”

  “Now? Are you kidding?” His expression dropped, replaced by something more annoyed. “Can't you just- I don't know… Hold it, or something?”

  “Sure, just as soon as the government gives me a new set of stilts to replace the old ones.” The woman gripped her fingers into Marcus's shoulders even tighter. “Of course, I could always just let it flow right here. It's up to you.”

  He blew out a breath. “Just- Just let me call ahead and see how far off we are then we'll see about setting you down. Okay?”

  “Hey, you up front. Call ahead, and ask-” Just as Marcus turned his head back toward the front, everything went white and pain bloomed through his skull. The next thing he knew, he was going down.

  Marcus came to in what felt like only a moment later. He was on the ground, propped up by something behind his back. It felt alive, and suddenly a pair of hands gripped his shoulders and shook him. Both his left temple and his ass felt wet. Marcus turned back to look at the woman. “Is- Am I sitting in piss?”

  With the faintest smirk, she looked away and shrugged. He noticed some of the escapees had gathered around and were grinning down at them. His blood started to boil.

  “Hah! Got you!” She cackled, grinning at him. “It probably is piss, though, but it’s not mine. I just wanted to take a break.”

  He went to rub his eyes but stopped when he realized that his hands had just touched what was very likely to be urine. Marcus would've liked to have raged, then pouted, then subsequently drowned himself in rum. But part of him knew he would probably just pass out of his own accord as soon as they got to extraction.

  As soon as Marcus helped her back up onto her perch, the procession started back up with calls toward the front – and only a few snickers from those nearby. Even in the dim light of the tunnel, it was easy to tell that Marcus’s expression was almost as acrid as the odor starting to waft off his clothes as they dried.

  If this is what I get for doing the right thing, fuck it. I’ll just leave them next time. He shook his head. Nothing is worth getting soaked in piss.

  * 10 *

  It was nice to be out of the cities again. Frederik poked at the barrel fire he’d been nursing for the last few hours then looked up at the vast, empty night above. So few people have the privilege of seeing something as amazing as this anymore. It’s a shame, but I doubt they'd appreciate it.

  Maybe once this is all over with, humanity can ditch the cities and reclaim the world our ancestors blighted. At least that's the hope, I think… He poked at the fire a few more times, mulling it over. Somewhat hard to tell with these revolutionary types.

  Half a day had already gone by since their daring escape from New Shanghai. They were operat
ing out of a temporary base set up in the corpse of an abandoned factory some hundred miles north of the city. Frederik had no idea what happened to all those lowborn after they got back, and Jens was staying tight-lipped about it. Assuming the EGI managed to find a hint of a trail, tracking them in the ruined factories that supplied materials for the cities’ construction wouldn’t be easy. Not only that, but by Frederik's estimation, dust off for their next objective was in less than two hours.

  Alright, enough of this. Need to run through the checklist before we go. Frederik took one last look at the vista above him before getting on his way.

  Normally, securing his equipment would’ve been the first thing he checked off, but he’d gotten that done as soon as their heliplane touched down. He’d decided against bringing Illana to Shanghai, but he knew that she’d be needed during phase two. Assuming everything went according to plan, he probably wouldn’t need to fire a shot, but there was no way he was getting stuck with a dead battery or jammed round if things went south. She was too elegant to be neglected like that, anyway.

  Next was to check in with the rest of the team, and Marcus was closest.

  Most of the Acian personnel at the camp that he passed wore wastelander garb or unadorned fatigues. It wasn’t too uncommon for Wasters to hold up in old ruins like this, but it would be easy for the EGI to spot the difference if they turned over this particular stone while searching the area. Then again, Jens seemed certain enough that they wouldn’t be tracked there, so who was Frederik to question it.

  It didn’t take long for Frederik to find Marcus snoring away the first part of their op amid a sea of cots. He remembered him saying something about going to pass out immediately after they’d touched down. But no matter how exhausted the man looked on the ride back, it was hard to believe that he’d gotten so exhausted after only a few miles of tunnel - added weight or otherwise. Still, he should’ve been up by now.