The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus (5 page)

Chapter 5:  Mercenaries

The following morning Janus and Clara made it through the station without a hitch.  A very nervous looking guard let them pass as soon as Janus’ face appeared on his security screen.  Janus was confused as to why it was so easy when he spotted something hanging from the supports above.  Grimacing, Janus turned away, feeling his stomach turn.  Evidently, Miss Middleton had been extremely displeased with the delay she had experienced the previous day.  Hammer’s skull was apparently not as resilient as his namesake.

The station was packed with bodies.  Clara and Janus struggled through the crowd to the lift, and were surprised to glimpse one of the glass-walled lifts designed for human transportation waiting to take the mob up to the higher levels. 

“Is it usually this crowded?”  Janus gasped.

“No, I’ve never seen it like this!”  Clara exclaimed.

He could see members of at least a dozen gangs eyeing each other on the lift.  Most were big, tough men and women.  As Janus looked closer, however, he saw a few nervous looking individuals whom probably survived more on their wits than their brawn. 

As they shoved their way through the crowd it was clear the S.T.s had given up trying to manage the flow of people onto the lift.  They simply shoved as many on as could fit.  An S.T. stuffed them into the
walled transport, pressing them against the mass of bodies, holding the crowd in until the last moment as the doors closed.  Yells of protest sounded from within.

Edging their way slowly to one side and huddling by the window, they tried to press themselves as close as possible to one another to gain a few more centimeters of space from the crowd.

“There’s so many,” Clara breathed in surprise.

“More than anyone realizes,” Janus agreed.

Soon after, there was some commotion as a number of Rats started muttering angrily as someone pushed them out of the way.  It didn’t take long before Janus and Clara could see Norm jostling his way through the crowd.  “Clara, Janus!  Thank goodness!”  Norm’s face was guarded and he was breathing heavily.  He fidgeted nervously at the crowd.

“Norm?  Are you okay?”  Clara asked with concern.

Norm shook his head, “It’s nothing.  I just don’t do well with enclosed spaces or crowds…”

Clara hastily pushed at the crowd, trying to make space for Norm.  The men and women
glared at her angrily, but said nothing.  The lift was not the place to make trouble.

“Thanks, Clara,” Norm looked grateful to her.

“Why rush, Norm?” Janus asked without turning to look at him.

Norm gave Janus a piercing look, but then shook his head and said, “I needed to talk to you.  What did Middleton want with Janus?”

“She – she’s taking him away!”  Clara burst into tears, attracting the attentions again of the nearby Rats.  But now, they scooted away from her, as if she was contagious.

“She’s what?”  Norm exclaimed.

“Something – something about soldiers and being sold to—” Clara stammered.

Norm’s eyes lit up and he very gently put his hands on Clara’s shoulders.  Lowering his voice, he asked, “Did she say that she was going to try to sell Janus as a
Mercenary?”  Clara nodded.

Norm’s eyes sparkled with delight and he laughed uproariously, getting more odd looks from the crowd, “I knew it!  They will regret this!”

Clara stopped crying and regarded Norm with some disbelief, “What?”

“Who?”  Janus asked.

Norm gave Janus a big smile.  “You have been given a great gift, my boy.”

Janus and Clara stared at him incredulously.

“A Mercenary Legion is the perfect place for you.  It will give you opportunities you have never before considered.”

“What are you saying, Norm?”  Clara’s eyes were glowing with a faint ray of hope.

“The boy is going to have the chance to live a life far greater than any a slummer could ever expect.”

Janus could hardly believe what he was hearing, “How do you
know this?”

Norm paused, his expression more subdued, “Trust me.”

The lift slowed as a voice emanated from the wall speakers, “Level 4.  Military Block.  All security personnel and Mercenary recruits DEPART NOW.”  The crowd obliged, sending a stream of people swarming into the military block.

“Whoops – looks like it is show-time for you and Janus.  I will come by tonight to see you.  Be strong,” he squeezed her shoulder.

“Thank you, Norm,” Clara started to smile, “I will.  If this is Janus’ one chance to get out of this dump, then I’ll be happy.”

Norm chuckled, “I see that Janus has had as much an effect on you as you have on him.”

Clara grinned and then hurried to meet Janus at the door of the lift.

Norm raised his hand in farewell, “Good luck, lad.  And remember, it’s not how you start, it’s how you finish.  Make your mother proud.”  His eyes were misty.

Chapter
6: Factories and Fighters

Janus grabbed Clara’s hand and forced his way through the crowd exiting onto Level 4.  The middle level of the military block, it marked the final level of the factories of Cerberus and the transition towards the living spaces.  Level 4 and the level below produced much of Cerberus’ weapons and armor.

A brownish haze of s
moke and grease filled the air, making it difficult to breathe.  It was unearthly hot, and the grime clung to their sweaty bodies in the furnace-like heat.  They pressed forward into the crowd as it inched along, the horde eager for jobs. 

To his left, Janus peered over the
mass into the smog, mouth open in wonder at the great factories.  Catching a glimpse through a window on his left, he could see liquid metal being shaped into pressed plates – armor for Cerberus.  At that moment, the factory ground to a halt, stopping production of the plates as the last one disappeared down the line.  Janus craned to see why, but he was swept along by the tide of slummers.

As they crossed a bridge, a
truck as tall as the second story of their hideaway and filled with rocks and earth, thundered along the highway below them.  But Janus had no clue where it was headed, and the swarm inched forward, filling the common space shared between several tunnels and railways.

An unarmored officer had clambered to the top of a disused loading arm and was directing the crush
of bodies from the station to different areas of the complex.  The earth rumbled as a jawed crane shuttled a thick, ungainly aircraft with large wings and three engines along a rail overhead.

“Dryad,” Clara yelled in Janu
s’ ear, “They’re a ground fighter.”  The huge craft looked so thick that it could barely get off the ground, but could survive a serious beating.

Janus and Clara struggled forward to the guard, waving to get his attention.  The officer looked momentarily confused as the pair shouted
, “Mercenaries!”  Putting a hand to his ear, it took several tries, but he finally nodded and pointed them towards an arched tunnel opposite of the crowd.  Janus pulled Clara along, escaping the press and reaching the relatively cool air within the tunnel’s thick metal walls. 

Two guards were waiting for them inside, a woman in a simple uniform and a fully armored security trooper.  The woman wore the red cross of a battlefield medic.  She looked almost bored as she motioned for them to come over.  “Routine blood test before we ship you out, nothing to worry about,” she stated.

After she finished, she gave the other guard the OK and turned to Janus and Clara, “She’ll escort you to Overlord Middleton.”

Janus took her word for it.  It was impossible to tell who was inside the massive armor as it clomped along the metal floor, the huge boots echoing through the tunnel.  The three soon emerged into a small rail station.  The air was slightly less hazy, but no less hot.  An open-air train car levitated as electricity c
rackled and raced through the rail below it.  Every so often, a tiny bolt would leap from the track, racing along the heavy air to the edge of the platform. 

The car itself was a simple troop carrier.  No frills, just seats, as many crammed in as possible.  The station around it had very little loading equipment.  The spot was simply designed to get as many troops as possible to the main lift station as quickly as possible in the event of an
attack.  An attack, Janus judged by looking around at the state of the station, it was still waiting for.

Just beyond the car, Miss Middleton was waiting for them in a sedan chair with four S.T.s, one at each corner.  Janus had no idea of their rank, but they carried themselves and their rail-guns with a certain level of confidence that suggested they were used to Middleton’s presence.

About twenty other would-be recruits glanced around at Miss Middleton and the Security Troopers nervously.  The group was huddled near the car, and the variety of clothes suggested that Janus was the odd man out from the slums.  He felt slightly self-conscious in his servant’s uniform.

“There’s no one from the elite,” Clara whispered to Janus.  Janus nodded in agreement; not one wore the finery he had seen from his brief trip to H-level.

Miss Middleton did not look particularly happy about coming down to Level 4 and covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief that was quickly turning from white to black in the caustic air.  She motioned for Janus.  Janus gave Clara a smile and, ignoring the menacing Security Troopers, made his way over to Miss Middleton.

She spoke excitedly, obviously having a hard time suppressing her glee, “Now, boy, it is time for you to go.  I will not s
tand for any trouble from you, or that dog you call your ‘mother’, Mara…” 

“Clara,” Janus corrected, struggling to keep his temper in check.

“Whatever,” Miss Middleton waved absently, “she will be keeping you from causing any irritations.  You know we won’t harm you – too much; but make any mistakes and that dog meets an unfortunate end.  Understood?”

Janus made no reply, but stared defiantly at Miss Middleton.

She stood up to address the recruits and cleared her throat, “It is my unfortunate displeasure that I should be responsible to make sure that negotiations go well with the incoming Mercenary Legion.  You will follow me and do as you are told.  That is all.”  Miss Middleton motioned for them to get on the car, still covering her nose and mouth.

Janus and Clara clambered in with the other recruits.  It quickly became clear that the seats were designed for S.T.s, not people, and Janus struggled to strap himself in.  Three of the infantryman took up positions around them, while the fourth escorted Middleton to the front of the car and then hopped into the passenger seat.  Middleton fit perfectly.

Another S.T. came running up to Middleton as she maneuvered her large bulk at the front of the car.  Janus struggled to hear what he was saying to her:

“Overlord Middleton, we’re having a problem with some of the S.T.s under command of Overlord Alastor.  They’re taking some of the incoming
Rats to another section.”

Middleton’s face turned an angry shade of purple and snarled at the trooper, “Tell your men to remove Alastor’s troops, forcibly, if necessary.”

“But Miss, Overlord Alastor—“

“I don’t give a damn what Alastor says, just do it.  I won’t have him hijacking another one of my troop divisions!”

“But what will I say—?”

“Tell them that only under Alastor’s direct supervision will you allow those gangs to be redirected.  We certainly can’t have that slum riff-raff running amok all over the place now, can we?”  She smirked, “That ought to keep them busy.  I should be done with this by the time
Alastor can muster the forces to forcibly intervene.”  She waved dismissively at the S.T., “Well?  Go!”

“Yes, Miss,
” the S.T. said in a suitably subdued manner.

Middleton smiled, appeased, and sat down.  Without bothering to check to see if everyone was strapped in, she pulled a lever, and the rail-car jumped forward, rushing into the dark tunnel.

The transport whizzed along under great arches of machinery, speeding its way towards an unknown destination.  Janus felt a rush of adrenaline.  Twisting pipes, gigantic cranes, and dark tunnel walls barely illuminated by the headlights sprang up before them, threatening to smash them to pieces just seconds before the car jerked suddenly away.  But he glanced at Clara, who clutched the sides of her seat, barely able to control her terror.  Clara kept shutting her eyes, struggling to block out the visions of the car’s impending doom, only to turn noticeably green as the car twisted and turned through the city.  Janus grabbed her hand.  Her terror left her for a moment, and she smiled at him – until another hurdling wall appeared and she froze up.  But her eyes didn’t close anymore.  And through the whizzing city, Janus caught snatches of giant armored vehicles and idle factories, marching troops and empty streets.

They
flew out of the tunnel and slowed, stopping at a large landing platform.  Janus’ mouth dropped.  Before him lay a strange sight which he had seen only in books.  Far in the distance, jagged spires of rocks, dotted with green and capped with white stood out against a bright blue sky.  The great peaks sloped gently into a barren plain that abutted up against the massive city and ran into a expanse of rolling waves and water.  They were at the edge of his known world; they were standing at the edge of Cerberus.