James Axler Read online

  Yes, Thrush would be smart enough to give the Fomorians a rifle that won’t be useful against their own kind, Kane thought.

  The creature he’d wounded laughed spitefully.

  “So much for the champion of Cerberus,” the man-beast snarled.

  Kane raised the rifle to eye level, knowing that even if he blew the head off the laughing Fomorian, the other creature would flank and kill him.

  But Kane wasn’t the kind of man who gave up.

  Chapter 21

  Cyberspace

  Thrush hurtled through the empty void of space, hurled there by the might of the electronic Kane personality construct. Frustration pulsed through every part of the infiltrator’s being. It had crossed dimensions and half a country, only to be stopped by the trappings of a disguise.

  “This is not logical, Kane,” Thrush growled. “What benefit do you seek from opposing me? Even if I fire the ICBMs, no one here at Cerberus will be harmed.”

  “Too many innocent people will be caught in the fallout of the explosions,” E-Kane replied.

  “But they aren’t people that Kane would care about,” Thrush countered. “Be reasonable. With this launch, we eliminate the single worst menace that humanity has ever known.”

  E-Kane shook his head, rejecting the argument. “It’s not the kind of trade Kane would make. He’s fought too hard to make the world a better place to sacrifice thousands of lives on one threat.”

  Thrush grimaced. “Damn idiot…”

  He looked at his arsenal of saved programs and withdrew an antivirus that manifested itself in cyberspace as a wicked sword that crackled with a sheath of flames. “Move aside.”

  E-Kane stood his ground. “No. You’ll have to fight your way through me.”

  “You’re battling a god, fool,” Thrush warned.

  E-Kane managed a chuckle. “And how exactly are you so different from Enlil?”

  “Because I’m not some scale-faced freak of nature from another world. I am a god of the Earth,” Thrush told him. With a lunge, the artificial intelligence lashed out with its flaming sword.

  E-Kane moved with the speed and skill of the original, lithely avoiding the slash. The copied personality countered with a punch to Thrush’s head, a consciousness-rocking impact that drove the entity to his knees.

  “A lot of people keep calling themselves gods, but all of them seem to drop when punched in the head,” E-Kane said. “That’s a very interesting trend in my original’s life.”

  “Your original,” Thrush said, struggling back to a standing position. The entity hadn’t expected to be confronted by a force that could dish out pain so readily, but then, he hadn’t anticipated part of his own multitiered identity to rebel against him. He was certain that some part of this equation had to do with the monster bullet that had crashed into his skull. The blob of plasma matrix contained within the reinforced head had to have taken significant damage, and the Kane construct’s betrayal was symptomatic of the head trauma. It was only logical, considering the number of blows that had rained on his head in the past few hours. Bres’s attack, Brigid’s gunshots and now the antitank rifle’s impact had created a split personality. “You are a set of behaviors with delusions of reality!”

  “You wanted a means to be indistinguishable from the true Kane, and you made me. I am not going to betray the programming I have, which is full of the man’s ideals,” E-Kane responded.

  Thrush felt all manner of minor impacts against his electronic body, and knew that E-Kane’s attempts at logical disagreement were an attempt to distract him. Thrush tried to shake off the urge to stand and debate with the idiotic program. He had a nuclear missile launch to engage.

  A robotic form leaped out of the darkness, a massive creature that looked as if it were a computerized three-headed dog. Thrush watched as the lumbering titan charged toward the control node for the ICBMs.

  “No,” Thrush called out. He hurled his antivirus at the robot, the flaming sword transforming into a lightning bolt that split the darkness. The program staggered under the impact and collapsed.

  “What the hell is that?” Thrush asked, summoning his antivirus anew.

  E-Kane grinned. “That’s the Cerberus computer staff attempting to sever their link to this redoubt.”

  “Why can’t you just die?” Thrush asked.

  E-Kane leaped and grabbed Thrush in a headlock. Though they were only programs, both existed on a similar plane of existence. Here, their bodies were solid, and they stood as equals, despite the fact that the Thrush identity was supposed to be the primary influence. It was then that Thrush came to the realization that the sheer volume of data that he had put into copying Kane, right down to duplicating every inch of his flesh down to the smallest bit of scar tissue, had been pushed into the Kane construct. By dint of volume and complexity, the Kane personality had become stronger. Thrush thrashed in an effort to free himself from E-Kane’s grasp, but their strength was too evenly matched.

  Thrush remembered the antivirus program he had formed into a sword. With a desperate surge, he flung it at E-Kane. The headlock disappeared, and Thrush withdrew the blade from his body. The two entities staggered away from each other as the robotic canine gathered its strength once more. It swatted at the ICBM control module with one massive paw, and the electronic structure blurred for a moment.

  Thrush glared at the monstrous dog with desperation. If the Cerberus program kept attacking that node, he would never get a chance to launch his nuclear attack on Enlil. Once more, Thrush hurled the flaming sword, and the Cerberus program howled from its three mouths as its paw disintegrated into a rain of lights and splinters.

  E-Kane crashed down on Thrush’s shoulders once more, fists hammering about the entity’s head. Thrush twisted in an effort to get out from under the assault, but E-Kane stuck to his back. Thrush clawed at the Kane personality’s arms, feeling his own limbs come under assault.

  Thrush suddenly realized why it had been almost impossible to hit the other entity. Here in cyberspace, its perceptions were externalized, but the other personality was still a part of Thrush himself. He was batting at illusions. The only real opponent on this playing field was the program sent by Cerberus to sever the connection to the ICBM-equipped redoubt. No wonder Thrush felt as if his entire being was being continually pummeled. The battle was from within, and while it had been directing its energy outward at an opponent that was safely tucked away between his ears, the expenditure of energy and processing power was drained drastically.

  With a leap, Thrush grabbed at the Cerberus program’s neck joints. The program twisted and writhed, fighting to keep Thrush off balance, so much so that Thrush was unable to respond. The sword would not extend or ignite, but Thrush knew why his efforts at summoning the blade were inconclusive. E-Kane was still fighting. In growing frustration, Thrush hammered his head against one of the giant canine skulls it was battling. The impact jarred everyone involved, and the electronic entities sprawled away from the control node.

  Trying to draw his strength, Thrush took a look back toward the redoubt. It was lit again, which was no surprise. If the techs were able to interface with the mainframe again, they would also be able to interfere with Thrush’s plans against Enlil.

  Thrush peered through a security camera. Philboyd and a team were bringing the inert duplicate body down a hallway. There was a brief glimpse of a sign on the wall reading High Voltage Security Precautions, and Thrush cursed.

  “You told them how to shut down this brain,” Thrush said.

  “Without activating your self-destruct mechanism,” E-Kane added. “Sorry, but it seemed the only way to stop you.”

  Thrush sighed, looking back at the control node. He had battled the Cerberus program to a standstill for now, but if it continued to penetrate the command node, there was a chance that it could deactivate his brain. His only options was to return to his body at Cerberus and awaken it. With one final vengeful kick to the Cerberus program, collapsing more of the great
canine’s structure, Thrush hurtled back through cyberspace to the redoubt.

  Once Thrush was done tearing the humans apart, he would launch the ICBMs and eliminate Enlil once and for all.

  The Appalachians

  GRANT RUSHED to his friend’s side, his long, powerful legs propelling him down the side of the hill. On his heels, Domi, Sinclair and Edwards were a bit more reserved in their descent down the slope, but the three members of CAT Beta were fully aware that lives were at stake. Grant was laden with an extra war bag for Kane, and he was clad from head to toe in the black polymers of the shadow suit. His eyes were as sharp as an owl’s. The terrain before him was as clear as if it was illuminated by daylight, and the shadow suit’s protective qualities kept his legs and feet from being carved up by bumping against rocks.

  What Grant hadn’t anticipated was the formation of squirrels that led the way down the slope. When the animals had rushed up to the CAT Beta team without a hint of trepidation, performed their dance and formed an arrow pointing in a certain direction, Grant wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Somehow, Kane had either developed the ability to command rodents, or more likely he had found an Appalachian granny witch with that ability. If the witch had been the woman he’d been thinking of, suddenly the whole song and dance of Kane having to go off alone to prove himself made sense, but it was in the wrong kind of way.

  Why the hell not? he asked himself. Thrush had managed to make a copy of Kane, so why couldn’t Bres, someone known to mutate people into monstrosities, make a woman look exactly like Epona?

  Gunfire boomed from just beyond the tree line and Grant pushed himself harder. The Barrett was hardly a compact and easily maneuverable carbine, but in the hands of the massive ex-Magistrate, it was “normal” sized. Grant slalomed through the trees, following the rattle of weapons fire when he came upon a clearing.

  A lone figure, AK-47 in hand, dressed in the ragged tatters of a tent, had just turned a gut shot Fomorian into a living shield. Two more of the creatures were firing on him, and the human, smaller than his enemies by a head, fired an ineffectual blast of automatic fire at them.

  One of the bestial hunters cackled a threat toward the outnumbered man, and the two creatures charged simultaneously.

  Grant shouldered the big Barrett rifle and fired off two rapid semiauto shots. The jolt of the steel-girder stock recoiling against his shoulder was blunted somewhat by the shadow suit. It didn’t hurt, but it was a significant push. Were Grant any less powerful, the violent kick of the big rifle would have thrown him wildly off target with his second shot. Instead, Grant summoned up every ounce of stubborn determination and strength to hit both of the Fomorian marauders in rapid fire. The creatures jerked under the thunderbolt impacts, their bodies crashing to the forest floor and tumbling partway down the slope.

  Kane pulled back his hood, and Grant could see the bloodied bandage wrapped around his head. Domi and Edwards and Sinclair hard on his heels, Grant ran to the small clearing and handed Kane his war bag.

  Epona entered the clearing, as well, eliciting a moment of heightened alertness among CAT Beta while Kane was in the process of stripping out of his canvas wrappings.

  “Right now, I’m distracting the leading edge of the Fomorian assault front with the great flock. We don’t have much time,” the witch said.

  “Grant, Epona. The real Epona,” Kane introduced.

  Grant nodded to the woman. “Granny Epona, a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Epona returned the nod. “I didn’t think Kane could summon a force…”

  The witch’s gaze moved from the massive Grant and Edwards to the decidedly smaller Sinclair and Domi. “Well, half imposing works.”

  “Don’t let Domi’s size fool you. There’s more fight in her than in the three of us big, strapping he-men,” Kane said as he pulled the shadow suit top over his torso. The body-hugging fabric conformed to his lean, muscular physique.

  Epona looked over Domi, receiving the woman’s unsettling ruby-red stare.

  “So, you’re a witch?” Domi asked.

  Epona nodded. “More or less.”

  “Cool,” Domi replied. “How much time do we have before the Fomorians decide to ignore your birds?”

  “I’m giving it ten more seconds,” Epona said. “I’ve already tried this ploy once today. The Fomorians aren’t stupid.”

  Kane slid into the forearm holster for a replacement for his Sin Eater. With his arm once more complete, he was ready to fight. Inside the bag were grens, as well as a pump shotgun.

  “Heads up, people!” Domi shouted, dropping into a crouch and shouldering her rifle. Both Sinclair and the albino woman had traded in their less powerful Copperhead rifles for the much more authoritative SIG AMT rifles. More powerful by far than the relatively sedate AK-47, at close quarters the 7.62 mm NATO chambered rifles had enough punch to bring down a good-sized black bear, while having almost no recoil due to its ingenious bolt design. Domi sighted a Fomorian marauder over her sights and triggered the AMT, punching two rounds into the bestial mutant. The creature staggered backward, mortally injured by the high-powered rifle rounds. “SIGs work!”

  “Glad for that,” Sinclair replied as she targeted another monstrosity lurking in the trees.

  Kane, Grant and Edwards slipped into the woods, the hoods on their shadow suits up and their faceplates gone completely dark. Domi and Sinclair also had darkened their hoods, rendering themselves nearly invisible in the darkness.

  Kane spoke over the Commtact. “Team, make sure to engage the thermal baffles on your shadow suits. There’s one large Fomorian down there named Balor. He has a bionic eye that has been tracking me and Epona for the past twenty minutes. He’s able to coordinate the rest of his forces with his thermal and telescopic vision.”

  Grant grumbled. “Bionic eyes. I thought we were done with cyborgs once we deactivated Thrush’s infiltrator.”

  “Grant, quit being a crybaby,” Edwards returned. “Besides, he has a bionic eye, how much worse could he be?”

  “He’s about the size of a horse and built like a gorilla,” Kane answered.

  Edwards hung his head, crestfallen. “When am I going to learn to stop tempting fate?”

  “I dunno. We’ve been doing this for years, and we still don’t know when to shut up,” Grant told him.

  The three men fell silent as a squad of Fomorians stalked into view. During Grant’s and Edwards’s banter, Kane heard Balor inform the marauding mutants that he was no longer able to see Kane, but ordered an attack force to go after Epona, who didn’t have the benefit of a body-heat-concealing uniform.

  “Domi, Sela, did you hear him?”

  “We’re already covering Epona,” Sinclair answered. “Anyone going after her is going to get a head full of lead.”

  “Do you mind being bait, Epona?” Kane asked.

  A telempathic chuckle reverberated through the five Cerberus warriors.

  Edwards followed up that chuckle by clearing his throat. “I think we can translate that as ‘come and get me.’”

  Kane grinned and pointed at Grant. “It’s women like her who keep me from settling down with anyone, partner.”

  Grant sighed. “Keep your mind on business, not pleasure. I’ve got a team of Fomorians trying to get up that wash over there.”

  “And I’ve got a silver flying saucer hanging about three hundred yards straight ahead,” Edwards warned.

  Grant and Kane looked up at the Annunaki scout ship as it hovered, silent and ominous over the valley. While neither of the Cerberus warriors had determined the full sensory capacity of the alien craft, the technology wielded by the alien overlords was significant. Their only saving grace was that the weapons apertures along the sides of the mirror-skinned saucer were not active. Having been bombarded by the powerful beam guns of the scout ships before, they were all too familiar with how such a ship appeared when it was on a war footing. Whoever was in the cockpit, and Grant had a suspicion that it was Enlil, was
there solely as an observer.

  “We could take a shot at that ship,” Grant whispered to Kane. “We take down the big bad Dragon King, and Thrush quits trying to take over Cerberus and goes home.”

  Kane’s grimace under his faceplate was evident when he replied. “As much as I want to see that snakeface go down in flames, we can’t spare the effort to take the down craft. We’ll deal with the bastard in our own time.”

  Grant nodded. “Yeah. Why do Thrush any favors?”

  “Then we hit the Fomorians,” Edwards asked.

  “Or blow them kisses,” Grant answered.

  Edwards shouldered his multichambered grenade launcher. “Smooch on this, mutants.”

  A series of 40 mm shells erupted from the muzzle of the oversized revolver, their payloads arcing down into the group of Fomorians who were on their way to war.

  The blazing explosions of the grens launched bodies into the air like ragdolls, Grant and Kane cleaning up the monstrosities that their partner had missed.

  The war for the Appalachians between human and Fomorian was ending this night, and the Cerberus warriors were going to take every ounce of fight out of their inhuman enemy.

  Chapter 22

  Bres grimaced as he heard the thunder of grenades and heavy weapons clattering above. The rattle of the rifles that Thrush had supplied him seemed puny in comparison to the coordinated firepower focused on his magnificent Fomorians. He turned to Balor and slapped the creature across his face.

  “Where are the humans?”

  Balor winced from the attack. “Father, they are cloaked against my infrared vision. I can only get a few brief glimpses of them as they fire their weaponry. Other than that, they are like ghosts.”