**** Elysium 1986 ****

The four teenagers were startled as the giant in the black uniform appeared around the corner of the next house and then headed straight for them. Jerry squinted to get a better look at the man in the glare of the midday sun.
“Is that a cop?” asked Odie, who also looked in the same direction, then put his hand over his eyes to keep from being blinded.
“Nah, doesn’t look like one. Maybe a parking attendant?” Jordan thought and spat on the ground. The four of them had gathered around Odie’s new red sports car, talking about various modifications they planned to make to the engine in the near future and smoking a few cigarettes to relax. The industrial area was ideal for a Sunday drive, and there were several large corporate parking lots where they could practice daring turns undisturbed. The police were usually tied up near the coast on weekends and wouldn’t bother them.
“Nonsense… If he wants to make trouble, we’ll give him a good beating. After all, he’s outnumbered, even if the guy is two meters tall,” Jerry grinned.
“Dude, he’s got a gun strapped to his back!” Odie gasped, and now the others saw it too. Then Jerry quickly pulled a pistol out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Where did you get that thing?” Craig gasped and inevitably took a step back.
“I bought it from two punks on the north side of town. They hang around a subway stop selling illegal stuff. What’s the name of the stop…” Jerry replied and was abruptly interrupted as the giant in the uniform reached them. Jerry raised his gun and pointed it at the man’s chest. The teens stared in amazement at the newcomer standing before them. He seemed to have pulled a rubber Halloween mask over his head, which was quite well made. From a distance, one couldn’t tell that it was obviously some kind of disguise. Only his eyes moved eerily, jerkily, cold and emotionless, almost dead. Was this a robbery and he didn’t want to be recognized?
“What do you want?” Jerry growled belligerently, arrogance in his voice. All the advantages were on his side, he had already drawn his gun. One shot would be enough to kill the stranger, who paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the boys.
“Car. Keys. Now,” he finally spoke. His voice was deep and sounded choppy, slightly distorted, as if it had been artificially generated. A voice synthesizer, Odie thought. Of course it was! The stranger didn’t want his real voice to be heard, so he couldn’t be identified after the robbery. A perfect disguise. There was no way he was going to give up his car, and his friend already had a gun. Odie pulled his switchblade from his pocket and jerked the blade forward by pressing a small metal button on the handle with his thumb.
“Just fuck off and we’ll forget the whole thing,” Jerry told the stranger. To emphasize his words, he waved his gun in the direction Lazarus had just come from. He seemed to be thinking again. These people were no threat to him, he didn’t need to waste ammunition. He began to move, taking a step toward Jerry, then another, and had almost reached him. The teenager, on the other hand, had not expected the stranger to come at him head on. The car was behind him, his friends beside him. What the hell was he supposed to do? With no choice, he pulled the trigger and a shot came out of his gun, piercing the stranger’s uniform and penetrating his chest. He realized with horror that this hit had no effect whatsoever. The stranger hadn’t even flinched. Instead, Lazarus’ giant hand leapt forward and grabbed the gun and Jerry’s hand together, then squeezed like a vice. Jerry screamed like a banshee as his bones snapped and the gun shattered. He howled hysterically and tried to break free, writhing in pain that nearly made him pass out. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two of his friends running like the devil himself was after them.
“Car. Keys. Now,” the stranger repeated his demand, not releasing his unyielding grip. Odie, who had been staring at the scene in disbelief, dropped his switchblade. His whole body was shaking with fear, and in his state of shock he would not have been able to escape if his life depended on it. Then he pulled the car keys out of his other pocket and held them out to Lazarus. Finally, he let go of Jerry’s crushed hand, which was now unrecognizable. The teenager immediately collapsed with an even louder scream, rolling on the ground in pain. Lazarus took the car keys and briefly considered eliminating them, but decided against it. They would make useful slaves for the Party once the city was taken. Wordlessly, he circled the sports car, opened the driver’s door, sat inside and scanned the dashboard, the gearshift and the steering wheel. The vehicle did not differ from the models produced in the northern cities. He put the key in the ignition, turned it and started the engine, turned the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. The teenager who had just given him the key was still paralyzed and couldn’t jump out of the way fast enough. The car hit Odie at the height of the right headlight and the impact threw him a few feet to the side. Lazarus thought again as he steered the sports car onto the road and accelerated even more. Even though his artificial neurons in combination with Artyom Gromov’s transplanted brain were firing at maximum power, he was still comparatively slow to comprehend. He finally came to the conclusion that he definitely needed more driving experience.

The car went faster and faster, passing a few other vehicles and even veering into the oncoming lane, forcing oncoming traffic to slow down and swerve. The tires squeaked and smoked loudly as Lazarus steered the car around a curve and stepped on the gas again. He would soon reach his destination. The needle on the tachometer bent to the right as he turned onto the last long straight and took off again. The engine roared and the car accelerated, faster and faster, heading straight for the big gate of the waste recycling plant and smashing through it at full speed. The two wings of the gate were ripped open, one of them breaking completely from its anchor. The impact had absorbed most of the car’s momentum. It skidded across the slippery ground, turned sideways, and slammed into the nearest wall. The body buckled so badly that the hood burst open, and white smoke escaped from tubes that had burst from the overpressure. Lazarus first hit the steering wheel with full force, and as the car turned, his head hit the driver’s side window, shattering it. His rubber skin was torn over his left ear and over his eye, hanging down a bit. The resulting gap revealed the skull hidden beneath, made of polished metal like the rest of his skeleton. He had reached his destination; the American-Japanese cyborg had sent its coordinates from here. This unit had to be eliminated at all costs, as it could be dangerous to the Party’s plans. Lazarus tried to get out of the car, but the door was so bent that it would not open in the normal way. He leaned over to the right side and kicked it open with his left leg. He used so much force that the hinge broke and the door slammed to the ground. Stepping out of the car, he immediately unlocked his machine gun and scanned the area. The first thing he saw was a huge machine he recognized as a garbage shredder, which was turned on. While he was still distracted by the sight of the machine, a rifle volley fired from a higher position hit him in the chest and shoulder. Parts of his uniform and skin were torn off, but the bullets bounced off his skeleton, leaving no damage other than a few scratches. He looked up and saw a woman with a gun, and next to her on the floor what looked like a small dog, but which itself gave off no body heat. He knew this woman, he had seen her in cyberspace. She was the target of his mission. He immediately raised his rifle, activated his eye-sights, and opened fire. The woman jumped to the right and rolled away, the bullets slamming into the wall behind her. Lazarus hadn’t expected her to be so fast and readjusted his sight to account for her speed. While this thought process occupied him, the next bullets from her rifle hit his chest. He took note of these hits, but there was no need for him to seek cover. He knew she would not be able to hurt him with this weapon. It was only a matter of time before he destroyed her.
“We need to practice aiming, you tin can!” the woman yelled at him, and he was hit by more bullets, some of them right in the face. She was provoking him, taunting him. Something stirred in him, something he knew, hidden under a thick veil of fog from his past. His human brain, capable of only basic functions, received the stimulus, processed it, and reacted, awakening an emotion that now rebelled against the command he had been given. Hatred. Pure hatred. Yes, he would destroy her, but he would destroy her his way. No one would dare challenge him. He was powerful, unstoppable, and he would drag the remains of this cyborg all over the city. Lazarus started to move and opened fire again, emptying his magazine, reloading, firing again and hitting the bouncing woman in the right thigh for the first time. Her blood spurted with the hits, causing a dopamine rush in his brain as he saw it. Very good. Her human tissue made her even more vulnerable. When this was over, he would keep her head as a trophy.

The TRAP agents hurried further down the hallway, past several locked doors. Finally, they could see the stairwell the female soldier had described earlier. For lack of alternatives, they had simply bound and gagged the woman with the other soldier’s uniform; he no longer needed it anyway. Sure, it had been a risk to leave her alive, but just one more of many.
“Meteor drinker? What does that mean?” Abigail asked in a hushed voice.
“No idea,” replied Yuri, who was now leading the way in Harry’s place, gun drawn. Just as they reached the stairs, two more soldiers rounded the corner. Yuri reacted instantly and opened fire, hitting the first in the head and the second in the chest. The shots echoed down the corridor and both men collapsed before they could scream.
“Very inconspicuous,” Abigail huffed. “If they find these two in the middle of the corridor, the whole base will be looking for us!”
“No problem,” Yuri shrugged and turned toward the stairs. “Woman said most guards gone since weird guy got here. So can’t be that bad. Besides, not enough time to hide bodies.”
“It’s not like you can’t see the bloodstains from a distance… oh man, whenever we infiltrate a building, sooner or later we set off the alarm. Have you ever noticed that?” the programmer hissed back, having to hurry to keep up with Yuri, who was taking three steps at a time.
“We do better next time,” he grumbled back, reloading his weapon as he went. Harry followed them without saying a word, concentrating only on the goal of this mission. When Yuri reached the top floor, he looked left and right to check the situation. There were footsteps coming from the right, at least three people, probably more. They had to be moving fast, they couldn’t stop here. Directly in front of him was a door, the sign above it said Gym Bioexperimental – access level 4 only. What did that mean? He didn’t have time to think about it, gestured for his companions to follow him quickly, made a dash for the door, opened it and hurried into the room. When the other two had caught up with him, he quickly pulled the door shut again. Just in time, they had not been discovered. Abigail had her Colt ready and looked around. The room was about the same size as her living room downtown, the old TRAP headquarters. With the addition of a few weight benches, a climbing wall, a punching bag, a treadmill, and a few other exercise machines, this room almost looked like a small gym. But there was one difference: on the wall across from the front door was an elaborately constructed metal chair in which a man with short, white-blond hair was sitting. His muscular torso, covered with numerous tattoos, was naked. He wore red sweatpants and white sneakers. Hanging from the ceiling above him was a large clear plastic bag containing a dark blue, elongated crystal with a crack in the center. A glowing liquid was dripping from the damaged part of the crystal into an infusion device. Obviously, most of the liquid had already leaked out of the stone. The tube from the device led to an IV needle in the man’s left forearm, and the glowing liquid gradually entered his body. The woman’s cryptic explanations fit this person perfectly, Yuri thought. What an excellent coincidence, the most dangerous man on the base had fallen into their hands without a fight.
“The meteor drinker…” he said, raising his pistol. Abigail aimed at him as well. When the man, whose real name was Tichon, finally realized what was happening, he ripped the IV needle from his arm and jumped out of his chair. At that moment, Yuri and Abigail opened fire on him simultaneously, three bullets piercing his chest and exiting his back due to the relatively short distance. The force of the shots was as strong as a horse’s kick, and Tichon was thrown back into the chair and collapsed in his seat, blood seeping from the bullet holes and his mouth into his lap. Abigail and Yuri lowered their smoking weapons and Harry approached the strange structure, examining the oversized IV bag.
“Better not ask what it is,” he muttered, tucking his short sword into his belt to keep his hands free. “Whatever it is, we’d better not touch it and get out of here as soon as possible. The command bridge can’t be far away.” The others nodded in agreement and started for the door as the screen on Abigail’s arm buzzed briefly. She confirmed the send button and received a status report on the llama. Abigail shivered slightly. She had known this moment would come, and now it was here.
“Yanny’s taken a few hits,” she reported to the others. “They’re probably already fighting, we don’t have much time.”
“Then move, now!” Harry ordered and was about to start running when he saw out of the corner of his eye that the Meteor Drinker was standing up on the chair again. His torso was still covered in blood, but the three bullet holes were no longer visible. They had closed by themselves. He looked at Harry with a sinister grin and wiped the blood from his mouth. They were all startled and took a few seconds to realize what was happening. Yuri was the first to raise his gun again and was about to pull the trigger when Harry’s scream stopped him.
“Save your ammo and run! I’ll take care of him and catch up with you later!” Meanwhile, the street samurai drew his short sword and took a fighting stance in front of Tichon. Yuri closed his eyes for a moment and gritted his teeth. Then he grabbed Abigail, who was still confused by the sight, slammed the door open and simply pulled her with him.
“He’s right, we have to keep going!” he ordered her. Everything in Yuri was against letting Harry fight this stranger alone, but he knew that they would lose too much time if all three of them stayed. And Abigail was the only one who could manipulate the controls for Lazarus. The programmer understood and followed Yuri after one last look around the room. Why did this moment feel so much like farewell? Dazed, she ran after the giant through the corridor and suddenly he opened fire again. As the first bullets flew in her direction and ricocheted off the walls, she had the presence of mind to throw herself to the ground and roll away. The whole operation began to escalate completely.

Categorized as: Novel 7 (EN) | Novel Chapter (EN)

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