**** Elysium 1986 ****

Sunday, 08:37 a.m.
It was completely silent here in the transition to the twilight zone of the ocean at a depth of about 200 meters, where the sunlight could hardly penetrate. A good level to stay hidden and establish a base that could be easily supplied by inconspicuous ships. Beneath the surface of the azure blue water stretched a seemingly endless rugged mountain range, formed millions of years ago by shifting continental plates and volcanic eruptions. Silent witnesses to the birth of Planet 86 at the edge of the known universe and largely unexplored by its inhabitants. The depth of the peaks and valleys varied from a few hundred to 11,000 meters, depending on the location, and the prevailing pressure varied accordingly.

Slowly, with the engine off, the mini-sub floated a short distance diagonally downward on its own momentum, landing with a gentle jerk on one of the gray, mud-covered plateau peaks of one of these mountains. The carpet of muddy vegetation was the only plant life left here. It was not far to the PFN underwater base, which was still out of sight. All functions went into standby except the hatch activator with the small airlock, which would only allow them in and out one at a time. Abigail unplugged the data cable from the back of her head, rose from her seat and checked the control panel again with a quick glance. Then she looked at the mini-screen on the armband that displayed Yanny’s vital signs. As expected, all readings were at 100 percent. She nodded in satisfaction.
“Let’s get on with it,” she said quietly to her companions. When she turned around, Harry was already holding out her small oxygen tank and mask without saying a word. The men had taken the time to get their own scuba gear ready. The fact that they had to cover the last part of the journey without a vehicle brought an additional disadvantage: as far as weapons were concerned, they were limited to the bare essentials. Yuri had opted for a sturdy hammer from the mansion’s toolbox and a pistol, which he carried in a waterproof pouch on his belt along with two extra magazines, as did Abigail with her silver Colt. Harry, on the other hand, had two brass knuckles for his fists and a wakizashi, a short Japanese sword with a blade length of only 30 centimeters. The diving suits they wore were the strongest they could find on the market, but they wouldn’t be able to stop bullets. Three weakly armed people would have to be enough to take over the PFN base.
“If they’re keeping an eye on their radar surveillance, they should have located us by now anyway,” Harry said as he helped Abigail attach the oxygen tank to her back.
“Unlikely,” Yuri said, already climbing the ladder to the airlock. “Don’t expect underwater enemies, nobody knows the location of base. They only have radar up to detect normal ships.” Harry raised his eyebrows. His comrade might be right. Besides, he was the one who could best judge the mindset of their opponents.
“Are you sure about that?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Not at all,” Yuri grunted and disappeared into the airlock, the sliding door closing beneath him.
“Great,” Harry grumbled, gritting his teeth, then nodded to Abigail as he made sure her oxygen tank was in place and properly adjusted. The programmer tried to smile encouragingly and tapped her colleague’s chest with her index finger.
“Even if they’re expecting us, they’re not expecting us through the drain…” Harry smiled at the joke she had made at her own expense. He knew how difficult it would be for her to go through that entrance. A few minutes later, they all floated silently side by side towards their destination, leaving the submarine behind as a yawning chasm of silent blackness opened beneath them, no human life possible at the bottom.

Sunday, 09:40 a.m.
Yanny approached one of the smaller windows of the waste recycling facility. A quick scan revealed no electromagnetic waves in the area. It was as she had suspected anyway: the hall had no alarm system. There was no reason for it. There was nothing of value in there except the machines, and no one could have stolen the huge equipment. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was completely unobserved, then set the llama down on the floor. It waited like a little dog to see what its mistress would do next. From Yanny’s current position, she could no longer see the agency car with Ralph. She had to be quick. She calculated a spot on the window frame just below the shutter on the inside, which her systems identified as the physically weakest. Then she gathered her strength and kicked at that spot with all her might. It cracked and crunched loudly, and the window pane vibrated so strongly that you would have thought the glass would shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment. When it calmed down, she pressed her hand against the frame and the window opened, parts of the lock falling to the floor inside with a jingling sound. With a quick movement, Yanny slipped inside and was now in the hall. A few seconds later, the fluffy llama jumped in after her and followed at her heels. She scanned the area once more. Nothing, no result, she couldn’t make out any heartbeats. Everything was going according to plan. With quiet steps she continued on her way to the control room. On the side she had entered, there was a collection of empty containers ready for pickup. Further back was the conveyor belt that led directly to a huge hopper. Beneath the hopper was the massive shredding plant, where all of the city’s waste was shredded into tiny particles and then pressed into cubes. She had only recently learned from the news that the waste would be taken to a reprocessing plant outside Elysium. The site had been in the news because the new repository for nuclear waste from the POWERS power plant was now nearby. However, the true background to the opening of the dump had been hidden. It was a miracle that the contamination, the real reason for the crawler crisis, had not yet reached the general public. But it probably wouldn’t have made any difference, as most people were busy enough with their own everyday problems. The subway was once again usable as the main means of public transportation, and passengers were no longer being eaten at the stations. This meant that the problem was largely over for the population.

Yanny took a good look at the shredder. This was her chance to completely destroy Lazarus. She had to activate the system before connecting to the teletext internet. She would use the network to call him to her, to reveal her coordinates. For a moment she thought about activating the conveyor belt as well, but decided against it. If her opponent really was temporarily incapacitated, she was strong enough to carry him up the conveyor to the hopper and throw him in. If the conveyor moved and something went wrong, the risk of falling into the funnel herself was too high. Then she looked around. The control room was on a higher level, accessed by a lattice staircase. From there, a ledge ran along the walls around the entire hall. If possible, she would use this ledge to her advantage. From up there, she could open fire on Lazarus, and if she was fast enough, he might not hit her too often with his own weapons. However, there was little cover on the ledge and the railing would offer no protection. If it got too dangerous, she would have to jump down and keep him busy from there until she had a chance to strike.

Yanny climbed the stairs and reached the control room, the llama obediently hopping step by step behind her. A simple locked door with a frosted glass panel separated her from her destination. She reached out and hit the knob with the heel of her hand, the locking mechanism could not withstand the force, it shattered and the door swung open. Normally, she would have proceeded more elegantly, using a lockpick and leaving no trace. Under the circumstances, however, a broken lock would be just one of the minor damages here in the complex.

The control room resembled the control center of the POWERS nuclear power plant. A large computer took up most of the room, running in idle mode. Only a few of the countless control lights were on, and the six monitoring screens were turned off. There were also two worn office chairs in the room; in normal operation, two engineers controlled the entire process. Yanny searched the control panels for a data cable input and quickly found it. She pushed one of the chairs to where the outlet was, sat down, and plugged in her own cable, which she pulled from her pants pocket. Like the building she was in, the controls for the machines and access to the teletext Internet had no protection to speak of. It took little effort to decrypt the password and give her access to all functions. The screens and indicator lights activated as if by magic; Yanny didn’t even have to press the main switch by hand. She checked the time. It was impossible to estimate exactly how long it would take Lazarus to reach her location. But in her plan, his arrival was only one of several unknown variables. She decided to wait another hour before making her call and started a timer in her head. To a human, the time would have seemed infinite, but she didn’t mind the wait in the first phase. She used the first 45 minutes to check the functionality of her own systems down to the smallest detail, optimizing the power of her generator by another two percent. As soon as she finished the check and let her mind wander, the worries returned. They weren’t worries about herself, but about her comrades, whose faces she could now see in her mind’s eye and whose voices she could hear. All the beautiful moments they had shared together, memories more valuable than money, more valuable than fame and possessions. They were moments that made her understand that there was a drastic difference between mere existence and a real life, which had only begun for her through her family. She had lived, lived in spite of her fate. A small smile played on her lips at that thought. 2.3 percent… She closed her eyes and began to search the net for the presence of her brother, Artyom Gromov, whom they called only Lazarus. She found him, it was the signatures of the PFN and the settler ship they had both once belonged to. More than 400 years ago. The time had come for a reunion, the former control unit of the weapons systems against the central computer. Yanny was ready and sent a pulse with her coordinates to the receiver.
“You are looking for me, here I am. I’m waiting for you. Come and get me.” Seconds later, the rollers of the shredder in the hall began to spin.

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

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