Robinson Crusoe 2244 (30 page)

Silence followed. Then out of nowhere, a projectile hit his leg just above the knee.

The strike wasn’t enough to knock him off his feet, but when the masticated flesh started to sizzle and smoke, he knew he had to get it off.

Robinson used an old candlestick to knock it away, but he could already feel the acid cutting through his trousers. He was reaching for the water in his pack when he heard the second projectile coming. He dove just in time to avoid it striking his face. It splattered against the wall behind him and started eating through the plaster. The stone from his sling rolled across the floor and several globs shot after it.

One fact struck Robinson. The creature was having trouble seeing him too. It lived in almost perpetual darkness, but the flashlight was angled in its direction. When it took another bite of its victim for ammunition, Robinson picked up an errant piece of debris and chucked it across the room. It landed with a crash and the creature slithered in that direction, firing off globular blasts that sizzled and popped as they hit.

Robinson ran in the opposite direction, shielding himself from the regurgitated projectiles he knew would come as soon as the creature realized it’d been duped.

If the creature hated light, he would give it plenty. As the thump, thump, thump of steaming masses hit the wall behind him, Robinson slid and tore the first of three curtains off the large Palladian windows. Half a dozen mouths roared simultaneously as light exploded in. Tentacles spun in pandemonium, trying to cover its multitude of eyes. Robinson stood and tried to kick out one of the windows, but the glass didn’t even crack. Even when a glob of acidic flesh hit it flush, the vile substance merely slid off with a wisp of smoke.

The only weapon in the room now sat against the far wall, but the second Robinson leaned in its direction, the creature slithered back to cut him off. With his escape route blocked, that tomahawk was his only chance. Trouble was, the creature knew it too.

Robinson tore the remaining two curtains down, flooding the room with light, but the beast just drew back into the shadowed alcove. One of the long tentacles shot out and tore off half of the render’s corpse and swallowed it whole. It spit out the masticated chunk and it ate at the floor, but the tentacles were quick to tear off more portions and heave them in Robinson’s direction.

As he dodged the salvos, he reached into his bag and counted the rocks he had left. Four. Not nearly enough. He blinked twice, hoping at the very least he might be able to find some vulnerable spot to blind or stun it so he could run past.

The first rock hit the creature flush, but it only seemed to anger it. As the globs came faster, one of them struck Robinson’s boot and he was forced to shed it before it ate through it. His second rock struck one of the creature’s massive legs. Although the beast howled, it failed to go down.

Robinson dipped behind a standing column and loaded up his second to last rock. When he started spinning the sling, the creature covered its vital areas and the rock skittered harmlessly away.

The idea suddenly struck Robinson that the beast might have one vulnerable spot after all and he quickly loaded his final rock into the sling. He waited until the creature spit out his next acidic missile and let loose. The shot was perfect, striking the back of the creature’s throat, and it roared. Its tentacles flailed wildly, lashing against the walls, tearing down pictures, and hitting the chandelier above.

The chandelier quivered and came further loose from its moorings, but didn’t fall. Robinson’s gaze fell to the one rock that had skirted out of his sling earlier and was now a dozen paces away on the floor. The creature’s paroxysm was subsiding, its focus and rage returning wholly on its target. When it charged, Robinson would have nothing left with which to defend himself. So he tucked his head and ran as fast as he could. The creature’s roar filled the room. It stamped the ground with such fury that the walls shook. Tentacles reached into its mouth and pulled out a dozen deadly chunks, firing every one of them off at the same time. Robinson heard the sizzle and hiss as they flew at him. When one struck his shoulder, he fell to his knees and slid. His hand locked onto the rock, dropping it into the pouch in one smooth motion. He only had time for a single revolution, but as he released it, he knew his aim was true.

The rock struck the base of the chandelier with a metal clang and the moorings pulled loose. Six heads and a dozen eyes looked up at once, widening as the giant fixture fell and crushed it with a deafening clatter. Six small mouths and one giant one wailed in unison and then ceased as the tentacles fell one by one and moved no more.

Robinson’s shoulder burned and he quickly tore off his jacket. He rushed across the room and grabbed his pack. He opened his water skin and poured the last of the water over his wounds. He collapsed on the ground, unsure how he was still alive.

Eventually he stood and gathered his things before crossing the room and looking over the beast. It was even more hideous up close.

Utterly spent, Robinson looked up at the camera as if to ask “what next.” And then he heard a chime. He turned and saw a small light next to the elevator blinking on and off. Somewhere in the bowels of the building, machinery started up and the top of the elevator rose out of the darkness. Robinson stepped inside when it drew even with the floor. Several buttons lined a control panel, but before he could even push one, the elevator started descending.

The elevator jolted to a stop and the doors parted sluggishly. On the wall opposite Robinson was half of the Seal of the President of the United States. The other half sat in pieces on the ground. An occasional light illuminated the hallway, but to his surprise, it revealed little dust. Even the smell from the elevator shaft hadn’t permeated the seal. If this were a tomb, it was the most comfortable one he had ever seen.

As he walked the hall, he perused the framed prints that adorned the walls. All revealed suited men in various poses of public duty. Family or citizens often surrounded them, although one picture revealed a man playing with a dog on the lawn outside. Here and there were photos of a chief looking stern in the face of some crisis. Robinson would never know the history behind any of them.

He came to a set of glass doors, etched with the familiar seal. Inside was a large table with technology in the background, but at some point, part of the ceiling had collapsed and debris lain strewn across the floor. In the far back was a chair and what looked like a suited set of bones canted to one side.

Robinson’s footsteps echoed in the hall, competing only with the whir of an air filtration unit that blew from above and the occasional camera that spun to mark his passage.

Robinson passed a kitchen that had been cleaned out long ago. The cabinets were open, some torn off their hinges, and dishes and plates were scattered across the floor.

He came to a door that had been kicked in. Inside were a number of sleeping bays built into the walls. Many of the bays had been torn out and two of them were dark with dried blood.

Farther down the hall was a bathroom complete with showers. Opposite it was a door marked: POWER SUPPLY ROOM: ENTRY PROHIBITED. It bore the symbol that Robinson recognized as meaning nuclear power. It was clear to him now how this place had remained operational after two hundred years.

At the end of the final hallway was a giant, ovoid, steel door. It looked indestructible. Here again was the Presidential seal, but someone had scratched it off. To the right was a control panel; its plating had been pried open and its wiring spilled out like the bowels of the dead.

The camera above the door edged slowly down to him, its eye pulsing from red to dark. He could only think of one thing to say.

“I’m here.”

A few seconds later, Robinson heard the sound of clicks and whirs. The door opened and a hiss of cool, purified air escaped.

The inside chamber was modest in size. The only illumination stemmed from a wall of monitors on Robinson’s left, half of which no longer worked. The ones that did revealed a few interior and exterior locations. To his right was a table full of lab equipment. A larger monitor sat on the end of the table, but instead of images, it showed streaming lines of text and mathematical calculations.

Robinson stepped in for a closer look.

“It is called a computer,” said a husky but feminine voice from behind him. He turned to see her silhouette in the shadows.

“The ancients used them to make calculations and to store data. They have almost limitless capabilities, but they are missing one critical ingredient—humanity. How could they put so much control in the hands of something so incapable of empathy?”

Robinson stepped toward her and the figure raised a hand. “No. Not yet,” she said softly.

“Mother?”

He had to ask because he did not recognize her voice.

“You have been through quite an ordeal. When you first arrived all those months ago, I did not think you would live out the week. You were so timid, so frightened. But look at you now. You’ve become a man.”

“Are you her?”

“I was especially pleased when you found Zeus.”

“Zeus?” Robinson repeated.

“The Greek father of gods and men, and the protector of cities and of the powerless.”

“Oh, Resi. That’s what I called him.”

“Is he with you still?”

His gaze fell to the floor. “No, he … No.”

“I see.”

“Was he yours? Are you the one who sent him to me?”

“Zeus belonged to no one. He was a survivor like you and me. But we cared for each other for a time. That first day you arrived, I knew your need for companionship was greater than mine, so I let him go. He was safer outside anyway.”

“Safer from what? The creature in the shaft?”

“That and more.”

Robinson took a step toward her, but the figure pulled back again.

“Why won’t you let me see you? Are you my mother? Your voice sounds different, but it feels like you.”

“You have already been through so much. But if we must.”

The figure stepped into the light and Robinson recoiled.

“You’re a render!”

It was true. Her body and head were covered with a mass of tumors and boils. She had growths on her hands and on her neck, but she still had his mother’s face and her compassionate smile.

“I am infected,” she said. “That much is true. But my mind is unchanged, at least for a short while longer.”

“I don’t understand. If you were bitten, you should have mutated.”

“No creature infected me. As you might have deduced, I have been alone inside this room for well over a year now.”

“Then how …” he stammered, but then his gaze fell on the lab equipment, the beakers and tubes, and the data streaming across the screen.

“Oh, Mother.”

“I have come close to a cure many times. But with no way to test it … Well, sometimes one has to make—”

“A leap of faith.”

“Yes. But enough sad talk. Tell me about Vardan Saah. I see he’s returned.”

“He’s after something called the FENIX. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes. It is a satellite-based dispersal system from which one can release genetically modified spores into the upper atmosphere. The ancients had hoped that if they could find a cure, they could code it into the machine and with one final swoop, eradicate the disease forever. Unfortunately, they failed to discover the cure in time.”

“Why would he want the cure?”

“He doesn’t. He wants to destroy it before anyone else can use it.”

Robinson groaned. “He has father. Maybe the twins. And … someone very important to me. If I don’t bring him this FENIX by sunset … you can imagine what he’ll do.”

She reached under the desk to retrieve a silver briefcase. She opened it and stared inside before handing it to him.

“It doesn’t matter now. I no longer have the ability to program it. The irony is that the missing piece was the first thing I stumbled upon in the library under the Crown. I found reports made a decade after the fall of this land, just before the One People were formed. I kept those notes on a small disc, which I hid at home. Had I brought them, things might have ended much differently. Regrettably, Vardan caught on to us too early and I wasn’t able to retrieve the disc before I left.”

The significance of that moment hit Robinson in an instant. He was holding the salvation of his loved ones in his hands. He had the power to save them. But he had something else too. The disc was inside her locket, which currently rested against this heart. If he handed it over, they might save the world, but to do so would mean condemning everyone he loved to death.

It was the hardest choice he ever had to make.

“Mother?” he said finally. “I have something for you.”

When he pulled out the locket and opened it for her, she didn’t move.

“Can you make it work?” he asked.

“We’ll see. Give me a few turns.”

He wandered the halls of the bunker, eating from food supplies that had no shelf life. He tried to nap in the sleeping pod but never came close to closing his eyes.