Spiral (58 page)

‘You would be Durell.’

‘I would.’

‘You’re the one in charge of this fucking yapping puppy called Feuchter.’

‘Yes. Let me show you what we can do here,’ came the voice of Durell from within the robes.

Suddenly, the globe spun with incredible speed. It showed the cruiser and the battle raging in the skies above it.

‘You are privileged indeed, Mr Carter, to witness this moment...’

Durell’s blackened twisted hand gestured, a complicated pattern of movements. Script flowed up and over the globe and the humming from the QIII increased in volume—

Natasha gasped. ‘It’s... doing it...’

Carter watched coldly as—

SP1Q,%KEY_OPTIONAL%\sysSATmeter,Installed,,’0’

HKLM,%KEY_OPTIONAL%,’netwatch’,,‘netwatch’

tracking ... located Russian SAT 576 #####

tracking ... locked.

script engaged script locking engaged

launch sequence initiated= threat= demolsquad

co-ords 234.456.557.212 - eq%345.331

config= armed and targeted

satellite lasers= granted

The fight was going badly. The DemolSquads were dying. And just when it seemed that things couldn’t get worse, The Priest watched the darkened skies erupt with a burst of laser light... a column of white fire exploded from the heavens and blasted an Apache into glowing splinters of steel that rained sizzling down across the raging ocean.

The Priest swallowed hard. He blinked, and looked upwards.

And his faith was shaken.

The QIII showed it all.

It showed the destructive laser light smash down from the commandeered Russian PredatorSAT.

It showed, close up, the Apache with its struggling occupants.

There was a glow, incredibly bright.

Blood was vaporised.

Flesh torn from faces and hands and throats.

Screams - for an infinitesimal slice of time.

Death.

And an explosion of raining steel...

Carter’s jaw tightened; he stepped smoothly away from Natasha, gaze scanning the room: the Nex, Krael, Feuchter and Durell.

‘You are fucking insane,’ he growled.

‘On the contrary, Mr Carter,’ said Durell, his hidden face turning towards Carter. ‘We are quite sane. Only we seek to do what is
right
- by our own definitions of the term. You see the QIII now? The globe is spinning, a pretty light show ... but thirty seconds ago it unlocked the World Banks - every single one. It now controls them. It has taken over every single satellite that circles the Earth. It controls the world’s armies: their aircraft, their tanks, their infantry - their
nuclear weapons.
Shortly I will issue statements to all the governments of the World Powers - they will relinquish their countries to
me
in exchange for their lives. And then...
then
we will play this Spiral game my way.’

Durell’s voice had risen in anger and, to Carter’s ears, in madness.

That black crippled hand emerged and took hold of the QIII processor. Suddenly, the light was gone and Carter blinked...

Feuchter walked towards the door, following Durell. He was almost nonchalant in his movements. His arrogance was total. His position of strength was clear. He halted and turned to Carter as Durell disappeared with the QIII...

‘You asked me about the Nex, about what they are. I feel that it is my duty to give you answers. Show him, Krael.
Explain
your prowess. Oh, fuck it, Mr Carter, this little puppy thinks it is time for you to
learn.’

The huge Nex took a step forward; he reached up, grasped his tight-fitting uniform, and ripped it up above his head revealing a heavily muscled torso. But at his sternum, trailing down, there was a light pattern of—

‘Scales?’ whispered Carter, frowning.

‘Armour,’ said Feuchter, his eyes bright. ‘In the 1950s, when the Americans and Russians discovered the joys of nuclear weaponry, it was also discovered that many insects had, shall we say, natural in-built properties of which we, as humans, were envious. Spiral set up research centres to look at why insects were so tough, so hardy, so downright fucking lethal. Pull a leg from a spider, it doesn’t die. It might
hurt,
but it’s solid insular genetic structure makes it a force to be reckoned with. Take cockroaches: they are very resistant to radiation. Why? Why the fuck would that be? It was researched for years, answers were found — genetic coding is such a wonderful process - and then Durell and Gol took it one step further ... developed the ultimate coding able to operate on today’s nuclear, biological and chemical battlefields!’

‘I thought they were all destroyed,’ said Natasha. ‘Back then, in Germany? Gol said they were wiped out.’

Feuchter glanced at her. ‘Oh no, my sweetness. Durell and myself and your daddy were
very
busy. We call it Skein Blending: you take a human and an insect, or a series of insects and - you’re going to fucking
love
this - you
spiral
genetic strands together. The host -insect genetics are quite parasitical in their nature - the host
receives
a whole new set of attributes: resistance to chemical, biological and radioactive weapons; an incredibly enhanced immune system; a massively increased pain threshold, quicker reactions, reflexes, thought processes. Their skin hardens, some grow external and internal armour to protect organs and bones - they become
incredibly lethal killing machines without remorse.
They become the perfect soldier. Their ability to repair themselves increases greatly, Mr Carter; and that is why I am not dead. That is why your bullets, and the explosion and the fire did not kill me ... I am a Nex, Carter. It is well known within the scientific world that every true scientist should be willing to test his experiments on himself ... I was the first Nex. I was the first
true
Nex.’

Carter stood with his mouth agape. He glanced at Natasha; she was pale.

‘Tell him the rest,’ she said.

Feuchter shrugged. ‘What more is there to tell? The Nex are a blend of insect and human - nothing more. What Nature has denied us, Man has found a way to complement; to cure.’

‘Tell them why Spiral cancelled the project and destroyed the specimens,’ she hissed.

Feuchter merely shrugged again.

‘It changes your mind state,’ said Natasha softly. ‘You lose all emotions; you lose all ability to care, to love, to nurture. Your mind becomes like that of an insect; you become the sort of man willing to betray everything he has ever known, ever
loved.’

Carter dropped his gaze. Kade was screaming in his head and a wave of pain flooded over him. Distantly, there was a concussive
boom. ‘Kill him, and kill him now and we’ll fucking go home…’
Kade was spitting in his mind ...

Another figure stepped into the room; Feuchter spoke quietly, then smiled. ‘It would seem that I am needed for a few moments - to take over the world,’ he whispered. ‘Krael, show him how far the Nex have
advanced ... he wants his answers, give them to him ...
‘

Feuchter stepped through the door and was gone.

The three Nex with guns moved forward and grabbed at Natasha; she hissed a curse and everything happened at once. The huge muscled and armoured figure of Krael stepped forward with a narrow smile and a hiss, tossing his gun aside where it clattered against the wall, the dark armour on his abdomen glinting in the weak light, his asexual face under short dark hair - bristling black insect hair - serene and relaxed and ready to kill...

Yelling, Carter charged—

And Krael leaped to meet him ...

They clashed in mid-air with a rapid exchange of blows so fast that the human eye could barely follow it. They parted, both landing and whirling on the dull black metal floor of the op centre...

Krael smiled. ‘I will make you suffer like you have never suffered before.’

Carter glanced at where the three Nex had dragged Natasha to the door - but he was stuck, stuck with his own fucking problems ...

‘I will fuck your mind,’ snapped Carter.

Krael charged, smashing a series of punches at Carter who blocked, dodged, blocked again and then hammered a right hook to Krael’s jaw. Then he kicked out, boot lifting high to smash Krael in the chest, knocking him back with a grunt. Krael leaped again, high into the air, both elbows ramming down at Carter who twisted, whirling with incredible speed as Krael met nothing. Krael landed; his boot smashed out, kicking Carter in the chest and sending him sprawling backwards, a look of pain flashing across his face. Carter hit the metal grilles of the floor with a
dang,
then rolled as Krael’s boots landed where his face had been an instant earlier. They circled each other, snarling like caged tigers.

‘You have slowed in your old age,’ said Krael.

Carter laughed. ‘I don’t feel dead just yet.’

‘You will,’ said Krael, his eyes gleaming. ‘Don’t you understand? I am toying with you; I am fucking with you. You are
slow
compared to me, Carter; you are
weak.
I am going to make you suffer as you made Sharae suffer; I will send you to her and she will enslave your soul...’

‘Stop talking and show me,’ snapped Carter.

They closed—

Warily.

Carter threw a complicated series of punches, jabs, hooks and uppercuts - Krael blocked them all, then came back with a front kick. Carter sidestepped, catching Krael’s leg and driving his elbow down at the joint - but Krael twisted, throwing himself up, the heel of his boot connecting suddenly with Carter’s face, his nose, hammering Carter back sprawling onto the hard metal floor—

Carter screamed, blood pouring, hands moving to protect his face.

‘No!’ cried Natasha.

Krael landed in a crouch, then unfolded and stood. He walked forwards. He looked down. He dropped suddenly, one elbow hitting Carter in the chest with all his weight. There was a
crack
of breaking sternum. Carter screamed again - as his hands suddenly shot out, grasped Krael’s head and dragged him forward onto the smash of a head-butt - once, twice, three times until Krael’s fingers prised Carter’s hands free and he scrambled, coughing and blinded, backwards, spinning and dazed, away across the booming metal floor—

Carter, feeling sick, rolled to his knees, then to his feet, groaning. Pain lanced through his chest; he gasped, struggling to breathe, his fingers coming up to probe at his broken sternum. He glared across the op centre at Krael, who was shaking his head, a thin trickle of blood dripping from his broken nose.

The ship around them rocked and shuddered. Distant screams could be heard as scorched stressed metal ranted in fury. A low groaning rose as some distant explosion rumbled.

Krael smiled nastily.

And charged—

Carter braced himself; they punched, blocked, circled; Krael charged again, launching himself into a flying kick that Carter barely dodged. Again Krael came on and Carter backed away before blocking a flurry of blows and returning a combination of punches and kicks that forced Krael back for a moment—

They circled again, Carter panting, sweat dripping from his brow. Krael seemed untouched.

‘I thought you would be faster,’ said Carter.

‘I am faster than
you
.’

‘Show me, then, you fucking pussy.’

Krael howled and charged. The blows came thick and fast and Carter found himself retreating, panic-filled, under the insane barrage of punches and kicks. He barely managed to dodge and block - a blow caught him in the throat and he staggered backwards, suddenly trapped against a bank of computers.

Krael stood, panting, smiling grimly, watching the man in front of him as he scrabbled at his neck—

‘Carter!’ cried Natasha. She struggled with the three armed Nex, aware that even if - by some miracle - Carter managed to kill this warrior Nex, then he would have three more opponents with guns to deal with.

Carter clawed—

at his throat—

Clawed for air—

Carter clasped his neck, pain spearing him. Tears streamed from his eyes and he wiped them away with bloodstained hands. He looked up then, looked up into Krael’s dark moody eyes and he knew: knew he was outclassed; knew he was beaten; knew he was
dead ...

‘Is that the best you can do?’ he wheezed through his damaged throat. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a fucking warrior - your dead fucking mate put up a better fight...’

Krael’s eyes widened and his smile disappeared. He screamed, charging again; Carter ducked a series of blows and launched himself across the metal grilles, a full-length dive, stretching for the wall and the bench and the stranded—

Gun.

His fingers curled around the Browning, carelessly tossed by Feuchter onto the alloy bench and left there in a fit of arrogance. Now his fingers curled around the heavy familiar weapon, around the heavy grip of his 9mm brother and he rolled onto his back, gun up and pointing at Krael who suddenly halted, dropping to a crouch—

Krael laughed.