Intended Extinction (20 page)

“Wait a second,” said Tara. “Are we at the bottom of the River?”

“The Underbed sits at the base of Ellis Island, yes.”

“Do I even want to ask?” she asked.

“A long time ago, when the Sterile Communities were being set up, this place was created as a kind of refuge, if Edge ever infiltrated the Fabric Shield. The building above us was the entrance, separate from the Community. It was meant to be a last resort, capable of sustaining a small fraction of the Community’s populous. That is, until we took over. It’s definitely different from what it was intended to be.”

“I thought you said Genesis was created eight years ago?” I asked. “Edge wasn’t even around until another two years later.”

“You’re right,” said Bollis. “There were only three members back then, scattered throughout Manhattan, trying to figure out how to organize. They were meeting out of an apartment. It wasn’t until Celia joined that they got the base.”

I turned to look at Celia, who hadn’t even flinched.

“So you guys were with Vane from the start?” asked Tara.

He turned to Dodge. “No, not exactly. There were two other members with Vane.”

Tara tilted her head. “Where are they?”

He hesitated before continuing. “Why don’t we save that for another time?”

I furrowed my brow, but as he began to speak again, I let my curiosities go.

“Instead of trying to explain everything at once,” he resumed, “we’re going to show you.”

He powered off the screen and we followed him and Dodge down the other side of the pedestal. We came to the doors to the left of the elevator.

“This is the northeastern chamber. We call it ‘The Break.’ This is where all the magic happens.”

Dodge chimed in. “And by ‘magic’, he means learning how to kill people . . .”

“Why is it called ‘The Break’?” I asked.

This time Dodge answered. “Because it will break you.”

Justin grinned devilishly. Tara and I exchanged wary looks.

That didn’t sound like fun.

The doors opened and we were admitted to a large corridor, beautifully structured with sleek walls and metallic flooring. A thin, crimson strip of paint ran along the middle of the walls, directing us to another room.

As we stepped over the threshold, another voice surrounded us.

“Welcome to the Training Chamber,” Aiya melodiously spoke.

“Aiya,” Dodge jokingly scolded, “didn’t we go over this? It’s ‘The Break’ now. You’re saying it wrong.”

“My systems cannot register that request, Dodge.”

The room was the size of a racquetball court. It was blanketed in technology. Two Fuse monitors hung at the back, angled inward, above a circular station covered in buttons, dials, and touch screens. In front of the station was a lone chair, mounted to the floor, like some kind of futuristic barber’s chair. In the corner on our right was an “L” shaped bench nestled behind a small table. To our left was another threshold, leading into a more spacious room with padded flooring.

“I bet you’ve wondered how Vane wanted you to be trained in two months?” asked Bollis, moving toward the chair. “Well, this is it. We call it ‘Simone.’ ”

“Simone is a program designed to help you become the perfect warrior,” Aiya informed, immediately answering our confusion. “Once induced by Simone’s serum, filled with nanomachines, the user will be subject to intense hallucinations, much like dreams, in which he or she will have total control. The skills learned through sessions implanted in the brain will remain upon the user’s final product. Thus giving him or her full access to different scenarios and objectives that can replace the need for years of training and fieldwork.”

“Nanomachines?” I asked, absolutely floored.

“Nanomachines are small computers invisible to the naked eye,” continued Aiya. “The nanomachines in Simone’s serum will dissolve after a session has been completed, restoring the user to his or her former coherent state.”

Tara looked dubious. “How is that even possible?”

“Vane,” answered Bollis, already moving into the other room.

“It might sound a little scary at first,” said Dodge, “but Simone can literally erase your fear of war within a day.”

I stood perplexed as Dodge followed Bollis. A day? I lingered in the Training Chamber, stunned by the advanced technology.

The next room was almost as big as Central in terms of length. Spanning at least thirty yards, with high ceilings, walls lined with all sorts of equipment, and padded floors; the “Sparring Chamber” was a marvel.

“This is where Simone
loses
her strength,” said Bollis, his voice bouncing off the walls.

“You fight each other?” asked Tara, wandering around.

“Well,” joked Dodge, “some people hardly put up a fight.” Bollis ignored the comment.

I bounced a little upon the beige flooring. It was sectioned off into squares by black tape. The steel racks attached to the walls shelved false weaponry and equipment. The end of the room had a small gym packed with workout equipment. The Sparring Chamber was more of a dojo than a mere adjoining room.

“Just don’t challenge Vane—in anything,” said Bollis, leading us back out of the chamber.

“He’s an old fart!” exclaimed Justin. “How good can he be?”

“You have no idea.”

Our next destination was the north exit, leading to one of the closed tunnels. The blast doors were larger than normal, and didn’t automatically open as we approached.

“When Genesis acquired the Underbed,” began Bollis, “two tunnels were built for specific purposes. This door leads to the northern tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, there’s small room much like Central. We call it the ‘Liberty Vista.’ Essentially, our back door. The elevator there leads to the old railroad station near Liberty State Park on the edge of New Jersey.”

“How were you able to do that?” I asked.

“Vane contracted the agency that built the Underbed to construct these tunnels, under the guise of GenoTec,” said Bollis.

“Luckily for us,” said Dodge, “Edge became global before they had to pay them back.”

“How convenient,” Tara mumbled.

We continued down the wall to the northwestern structure. Behind the cold concrete doors lied what they called “The Safe.” It contained a surplus of food, water, clothing, ammunition, weapon parts, bedding, and a ton of other miscellaneous items.

We already knew what Quarter consisted of, so we moved past it and came to the southwestern side.

“This is the Armory,” said Bollis, as the doors mechanically moved to the side. We entered a small corridor, lined with a wall of cardinal lockers. Each compartment was about six feet tall, labeled with a name. Metallic benches flanked us as we continued down the hallway. I noticed a number of lockers without names. Two of them looked as if the tags had been removed.

The locker room opened to a polished chamber. A cylindrical pillar held strong in the center, adorned with a small, rectangular interface window barely hovering in the middle. Behind the pillar was a barren wall, arrayed with similar interactive glass.

Bollis stepped up to the center pillar and touched the window. It illuminated with a bright yellow glow. Instantly, the pillar shifted and moved, sending four columns of weapons out of its body, two from each side. The right two posts holstered diverse rifles. I spotted the short, stocky clone of Bollis’ from before. Others included sniper, fully automatic, long range and short-range rifles. The left column held pistols of various shapes and sizes, with different clips and accessories.

“Whoa!” said Justin, approaching the rifle rack and admiring the sleek death machines.

Bollis moved behind the pillar and began touching the other glyphs on the back wall. Each section of the wall flipped over, revealing more racks of explosives, launchers, higher caliber machine guns, and a wide array of ammunition.

“Wow,” said Tara, “you guys aren’t messing around.”

“I thought the Underbed itself would’ve given that away already,” joked Dodge.

“You’re trained to use
all
of these?” I asked. I approached the rifle rack and touched an ergonomic handle.

“Mostly,” said Dodge, admiring the wall of weapons. “But we have a team. Each of us specializes in a certain type of skill.”

“Incredible,” I mouthed. Seeing all of their weaponry sent a bolt of excitement through my spine. Maybe it was just testosterone.

“And through that door is the firing range,” Bollis said, gesturing to a doorway that led to a darkened chamber.

“So, is now a good time to tell us what happened to the other two members?” I asked.

“Let’s finish the tour first,” said Bollis, leading the pack out of the Armory.

I stood there wondering why he wasn’t telling us. It was obvious that the other members had died. Maybe he was too afraid to let us know.

Our last stop was the other tunnel, jutting out into the southern depths of the Hudson’s rocky floor.

“The Corrupt Vista lies at the end of the tunnel,” announced Bollis. “It was the preparation zone for our attempt at Axxiol.”

“Axxi—wha?” Justin asked.

I remembered the large, offshore building.

“It’s their research facility,” said Dodge. “A
ton
of sketchy stuff goes on in there. The only way in is by helicopter, or a tram that connects to the Jersey City building. The security system is so far advanced that it would take us years to crack their decryption codes. That’s why we’re so focused on Jersey.”

“Wait a second,” I poked, “you said it ‘
was
’ the preparation zone? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bollis sighed and quietly said, “The Vista is inaccessible at the moment. Something happened—”

“Bollis, Dodge,” said the authoritative, raspy voice of Vane, “I need you for a moment.” His voice had come through the speaker system.

“Well, looks like the tour’s over,” said Bollis. “Sorry about that, but please, feel free to make yourselves at home. Aiya can help you if you need anything.”

In a matter of seconds, our two guides had disappeared through Primary’s doors, leaving the three of us standing alone in the cold breadth of Central.

Tara turned to me and said, “My brain is about to explode.”

I agreed with her and looked back up at the giant blast doors to the Corrupt Vista.

“What do you guys think?” I asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so skeptical about something in my life,” said Tara.

“This place is duh-duh-duh—
dope
!” said the boy. “I’m
nuts
‘citey.”

I was lucky if I understood half of what he said.

“You know,” said a gentle female voice from behind, “you guys are too hard on yourselves.”

The three of us whirled around to see Celia facing us from her chair.

“You guys have a lot more to offer than you keep telling yourselves,” she said.

We looked at each other and approached the platform.

“How can you know that?” asked Tara with an innocent, worried tone.

“Because I was in your shoes six years ago.”

I tried to picture what it would be like to join Genesis before Edge had reached its prime. I imagined a younger looking Celia, with more hair beads.

“How did you decide?” I asked. “What made you wanna do this? I mean, this is all pretty overwhelming and ridiculous.”

She thought for a moment. “Honestly, I think it was the money Vane offered me,” she smirked and then became serious again. “But the more I started to understand GenoTec, I began to see how important this was. Trust me, I was just as freaked out as you were. But I didn’t want to go back to my old, directionless life. Doing this brought me a sense of comfort. I felt like I mattered in the world.”

That sounded more like one of GenoTec’s Volunteer commercials than encouragement. Still, she piqued my interest. I looked down at the concrete steps, thinking about my own life. Back at my apartment, I was waking up to nothing, every single day. There had been no one in my life. There was nothing but blood and pain.

“Do you really think we can do this?” asked Tara.

“I’ve seen what you can do,” Celia replied. “And with Simone,
anyone
can do this. It’s not like you’d be spending
six
years here. We’re really almost finished . . . I hope.”

The technology hummed in the background as we stood thinking.

“We’ll be renegades, though,” countered Tara.

Then Celia smiled. She shifted her eyes between the three of us and said, “Is that such a bad thing?”

Renegades.

But not the kind with malicious desires and dismissive attitudes toward authority. The renegades I was referring to are the ones with powerful, redeeming surges of emotion linked to every single one of their actions. The ones who would stop at nothing to bring simplistic and cleansing truth to everyone in the world. The ones who started as nothing, crawling on their own blood-soaked floors, but became bastions of courage, wisdom, and most of all, surety.

I could also be somewhat dramatic about all of that.

Nevertheless, the prospect of becoming renegades had a certain coolness factor that I couldn’t deny. The prospect of dying had a factor, too. And it wasn’t cool.

We never really made a decision to stay in the Underbed. It sort of just happened. There was never a defining moment where I could call myself a Genesis “member.” The days just started to creep by. Each morning brought more intrigue. I grew more confident in my abilities. I understood more about GenoTec then I probably wanted to know. And it was all coming together into one steaming pot of acceptance.

I was never happy with my surroundings, though. Never once would I call this place “home.” Because even though I never told myself that I was officially staying, I knew what was coming. Something terrifying loitered in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to face the fear, but I knew that someday I would have to kill again.

Amidst the confusion, the trepidation, and the denial, I
did
have one motivating thought—which wasn’t common. I was better off doing something worthwhile—no matter how insane—than being stuck in my ratty apartment, coughing until I died in my own pool of blood.

The interface screen read 2:06
am
when I opened my eyes. It was quiet, except for the occasional ticking sound from the Underbed’s ventilation system. I sat up, stretched, put on a shirt, and donned a pair of slippers.

I padded quietly past the other rooms, careful to remain undetected. I moved like a preying cat through the rest of Quarter and pressed on to Central.

Central was pitch black, except for the single beam of light showering the center pedestal. The servers were purring, and Celia was thankfully in bed. I moved across the floor and looked around one last time before plopping myself onto one of her chairs.

I had never been this close to her station before. It was cluttered with all sorts of minutia, which made it harder to maintain silence. I was constantly bumping into things, trying to figure out how to activate her console. Even when there was no way anyone could hear me, I was still sweating.

In a stroke of luck, I found a small indent on the side of her 30-inch, see-through monitor. As my finger hovered over it, the display illuminated, almost knocking me off the chair. It took no time to boot up, instantly depicting a column of squares I could click. They were each uniquely titled: “Genesis Files”, “GenoTec Files”, “Old Files”, “Research”, “Codes”, and “Edge Research.” I used her antique mouse to hover over a few of the choices. I looked over my shoulder again, then clicked “Old Files.”

The screen opened to a new window, displaying more squares to pick from. Her organization was impeccable. I scrolled through the huge list of things until something caught my eye.

“Deceased Members,” I said under my breath.

Drooling for answers, and lusting with curiosity, I clicked the square.

A new window popped up, but this time a portrait of an African-American man covered most of the screen. I furrowed my brow and noticed I could scroll down. A bunch of text and highlighted links followed the picture, all about the man named Trine.

Before I could read anymore, a voice from behind almost sent me flying.

“Can’t sleep, huh?”

Bollis was standing at the base of the small set of stairs, staring me down with folded arms and a pensive look.

I honestly didn’t know what to say, so I awkwardly froze. It was the first time I had felt guilty before Bollis. It was also a new experience seeing him in normal clothes. He was wearing a fitted, gray t-shirt, with a pair of dark blue sweatpants.

“I know why you’re here,” he said, stepping up to my level. “And it’s my fault.”

“Look, I—”

“I should have told you guys before, but I . . . I guess I was afraid of what your reactions would be.”

I let him continue. He sat across from me in another plush, swivel chair.

“The other two members,” he said, “that’s what you want to know about, isn’t it?”

Once I knew I was in the clear, I nodded and said, “This is one of them?” I looked at the interface screen. “Trine?”

“Yes. Trine was the first member of Genesis. He was an incredible asset.” It seemed as if Trine had meant something to Bollis. I could see a longing in his eyes.

“What happened to him?”

Bollis sat back in his chair and exhaled. “Just after Edge became global, Genesis consisted of Vane, Trine, Celia, and one other member, a man called Gear. In Genesis’ fourth year, Gear betrayed them and went to GenoTec, to reveal everything Genesis had worked for. He killed Trine in the process. After that, Genesis disbanded for a few years.”

I pondered the story for a moment. “GenoTec didn’t find the rest of them? Celia? Vane?”

“I’m not sure how, but GenoTec never found out. Gear never returned. Vane tried to recruit Vexin during the separation, but didn’t get him until Dodge and I joined—oh, three years ago.”

“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to tell us this?”

He sighed. “Trine died. Gear betrayed Genesis. I didn’t want to scare you off. It was stupid of me.”

“Well,” I said, “it’s not the most comforting news. But, it was pretty obvious, Bollis.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. “I’m just glad you guys decided to stick around. We can finally move forward.”

“We didn’t exactly have a choice, did we?”

“I’m truly sorry. None of us wanted this. GenoTec has a way of forcing situations on people.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Was it easy for you?” I played with my hands. “Joining?”

He scoffed. “My situation was a bit different. I was a Marine. I was used to combat. When the military disbanded, I had nothing to do with my life. Dodge and I were lucky enough to have Vane find us, or else we would have gone insane.”

“But going up against
GenoTec
?”

He inhaled, pondering. “We had our concerns. But Dodge and I were already digging up some things when he found us. It just . . . felt right. I don’t know. I guess I’m not much help, am I?”

“No. No you’re not,” I said.

He smirked. It was quiet for a moment. “When I was a Marine, there was one thing that always saved my life when I was in the field. I learned to let the fear take me. Let it fill your entire body. Let it rip your insides out. Let it run its course.
Then
you act. You use it to guide your actions.”

I wallowed in his advice. There was a lot of fear to go around, that’s for sure.

He got to his feet, preparing to leave. “I know you’re scared. We all are. But we’re the only ones left, Mark. For the sake of this planet’s future, we
need
to do this. It’s screwed up, but I’m done trying to pity myself. I’m done wondering what
could
have been. I’ve just let it take me.”

He sighed, wondering if he had done any good. I contemplated his words. As much as I hated thinking about the future, his advice was comforting. I didn’t feel so anxious or dry-throated.

“Hey,” I asked. “You mentioned Trine as if you knew him. Did you?”

He paused for a second, and then looked at the screen again.

“I never met him, no,” he said, sounding introspective, “but I’ve seen and read everything about him. I know how he fought, how he moved, how he breathed. I studied him, because he was a hero. He saved Celia and Vane from Gear, on top of being an incredible soldier.”

“What made him so different?” I asked.

“He was recruited from the streets. Just like you.”