**** Elysium 1986 ****

The Duke’s house was actually an abandoned military bunker. During the colonization period, defense facilities had been built on the outskirts of the city, but as the city expanded, they became obsolete and were converted to other uses. Some of these old bunkers were later taken over by the police, others were converted into department stores, or purchased by private citizens with enough money to afford such protection. The Duke, whose real name was probably not known by anyone in the entire city, was one of those people in need of protection. He appreciated the thick, unadorned walls of gray reinforced concrete. He had the few small windows, probably originally intended more as loopholes, sealed with black bulletproof glass to keep out the last bit of sunlight.
“Was it difficult to get the item?” one of the two guards asked, more to relieve his boredom than anything else. Sergey and Aksinya had been waiting for their client for twenty minutes in his office, if this room could be called an office at all. The shelves on the walls were crammed with all kinds of technical equipment, the purpose of which Sergey had no idea. Displays and buttons flickered and flashed, there was a hum, and at irregular intervals the machines made indistinct noises. Only the computer and the large CB radio on the desk Sergey could clearly identify.
“It went relatively smoothly,” Sergey replied, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Aksinya stood next to him, looking equally perplexed at the unfathomable tangle of cables sprouting between all the equipment.
“Not bad for your first assignment,” the guard said, nodding his head. Sergey just shrugged. He didn’t like the sound of that. It would definitely stay at this one job, he was not the right man for this kind of work. For a second, however, the thought crossed his mind that he probably had some talent for this kind of work. After all, he had remained completely unharmed in the city so far. He was probably just lucky, but he found fighting humans much easier than fighting the wild animals in the periphery. Humans were much slower; he was used to different speeds and forces from his previous opponents. Predatory cats, bears, hungry packs of wolves, it was all a different challenge in comparison. He was jolted from his thoughts when the door at the other end of the room opened. Another guard entered and held the door open. The Duke’s wheelchair appeared, pushed by an elegant looking lady in a green evening gown. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in an elaborate updo, and her makeup and lipstick were in subtle shades of green. She was visibly straining to move the Duke’s massive body in front of her. The out-of-shape master of the house had been confined to a wheelchair for years after losing both lower legs to a rare disease. For a man with the means, it would have been no problem to have mechanical prostheses fitted. But his general health made it a risky proposition, and for the operation to be successful, he would have had to lose at least 100 kilograms of body weight. His brown, stringy hair hung long and unkempt over a bulging face with swollen lips. The back of his head, however, was shaved; here he had three sockets for various cable connections implanted directly into his skull. The associated cables hung from the back of his head, braided together over his left shoulder, and were labeled to keep track of their functions. Other than that, the Duke wore only a sort of roughly sewn brown sack of thick cloth, as nothing else seemed to fit him.
“Oh look, what a wonderful surprise! Young Mr. Gromov and his charming companion, Mrs. Tsvetkov, have found their way back to our humble abode. Tamara, this is truly a day for rejoicing,” the Duke said to the lady in the green dress in a soft voice that was actually much too high for his appearance. He made an inviting gesture to his guests, indicating a bow with his swollen hand.
“Thank you,” Sergey replied curtly, already used to the Duke’s grotesque appearance from the last time he met him. Aksinya, on the other hand, made a small curtsy, knowing how much he appreciated those old manners. The host kindly noted the gesture.
“Young Mr. Gromov, may I ask you to take the trouble to present me with the coveted object? It will add immeasurably to the joy of our reunion if we can successfully conclude our little friendship deal as soon as possible, I am sure of it,” the Duke quipped, his double chin wobbling with the rhythm of his jaw movements.
“Yes, of course,” Sergey confirmed, pulling the small disk out of his coat. Holding it up for all to see, he walked over to the desk and placed it within reach of the master of the house. The guards were watching his every move. Sergey knew that the slightest wrong move would end his life in seconds. The Duke reached for the object with his sausage fingers, picked it up and looked at it.
“I hope poor Yegor didn’t suffer too much for this?” he asked in an unusually solicitous manner.
“He won’t do it again,” Sergey waved off.
The Duke then inserted the disk into the drive of his computer, which was on the desk in front of him, and typed some commands on the keyboard. After a short while, he began to grin, for what he saw on the screen seemed to satisfy him greatly.
“A man of honor, you’ve done an excellent job,” he praised Sergey.
“I’m glad you like it,” Sergey replied.
“I, too, am a man of honor, for I can immediately provide you with the information you so desperately need,” the Duke explained. Sergey raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“You already have the information? So soon?” he said in surprise, and Aksinya began to beam beside him. She was visibly relieved that a third meeting here in the bunker would probably not be necessary. The Duke grinned broadly and pointed to the cables over his shoulder, growing out of the back of his skull.
“That’s right. You see, with these new direct links, it is possible to search for the desired data much faster and more effectively than in the conventional way. Heavens, it really refreshes my soul to be able to help you with this,” he rambled. Tamara stood there with a blank face, then opened one of the desk drawers, took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lit one and started to smoke. She put the pack and the lighter back.
“Well then, I’m all ears,” Sergey encouraged the Duke to finally get to the point.
“It seems you’re on to something pretty big, young man. At the same time, something very interesting and quite unusual. I had to dive deep into cyberspace and bypass a lot of security measures to get to my destination. The thing is, as you have already guessed, this is a secret military operation. However, the scope of it is remarkable, and there are several things involved. The analysis of your brother’s personnel file has shown that he was indeed seriously injured on the Japanese front. So badly, in fact, that even after extensive medical treatment, survival was considered out of the question.”
“What? How?” Sergey blurted out. Yes, he had expected the worst. But now to have it confirmed by an informed source carried a different weight.
“This is where Project Lazarus comes in,” the Duke continued unperturbed. “The name probably means nothing to you. It comes from an ancient Christian biblical text and refers to Lazarus of Bethany, who was raised from the dead by the Messiah. According to the legend, he was the first person to return from the realm of the dead and was revered as a saint.” Sergey’s face turned pale at this explanation. He already had a terrible idea of where this would lead.
“You mean my brother…” he stammered.
“Project Lazarus is nothing less than a Party research project to create the perfect super-soldier. It is the fusion of man and machine, a warrior without weakness. But hardly a project a normal human would volunteer for. Lazarus needed someone who had no chance of surviving anyway. Your brother. They saved his brain as well as his heart. It now beats in a new body of metal covered in a skin of silicone. So it is exactly as you observed in the meeting you described to me, which was not an optical illusion at all,” the Duke continued. “You said you felt he was still alive?”
“Yes,” Sergey replied.
“Perhaps we have found the answer in your brother’s still-beating heart. Wouldn’t that be an explanation within the realm of possibility? Feelings, hunches, and emotional connections cannot be measured. But just because we can’t measure something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, does it?” the Duke said in his high-pitched voice.
“Tell me… are there others like him?” Sergey asked.
“So far, he’s the first and only one. You see, there are some technical challenges that make it impossible for Project Lazarus to go into mass production for the time being. Normally, a brain would die immediately when separated from the rest of the body. However, your brother’s brain was severely cooled to buy time for the transplant. Even so, it obviously suffered some damage. How much of his mind remains intact is hard to say. But its most important functions are now supported by a chip with truly enormous computing power. This chip is clearly old technology from one of the colonist ships. From what I could find out, it was sold directly to the Party by a group of southern runners for a lot of money. So it’s come a long way here on 86.”
“So the brain is the weak link in this whole thing? If the transplant had gone smoothly, would the Super Soldiers be able to function without the old technology?” Sergey asked.
“That can be determined based on what we know now, yes. However, the brain and the chip are only two of the three strings on which this thing hangs. There is a third component called a control unit. Without this control unit, it is almost impossible to predict whether your brother will actually carry out the orders given to him. He was also chosen for this project – and I will not hide this from you – because he has not been squeamish in carrying out his previous assignments,” the Duke continued.
“I can well imagine that,” Sergey admitted, hanging his head a little.
“In this body, without the control unit and with his temperament, he can become a walking tinderbox. So he gets his orders via a radio link using satellite technology. You’ll be surprised when I tell you where this control center is currently located…” the Duke grinned.
“Not in Neo Yakutsk?” Aksinya asked in surprise.
“No. Not at all,” the Duke grinned even wider now. He knew that he could have made a small fortune with the information he was about to reveal. But he didn’t care about that at all, because he was very interested in this case and obviously enjoyed confusing Sergey with more and more revelations, in addition to showing off his own abilities.
“If it’s not here, where is it?” Aksinya inquired. Sergey pressed his lips together, still trying to process what he had just heard.
“You will be surprised, as I said. And you will be even more surprised to learn what purpose all this serves,” the Duke said patronizingly in his soft voice. Then he started to play his last big trump card in this game of information.

Categorized as: Novel 5 (EN) | Novel Chapter (EN)

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