Recap: After meeting some of the people organizing the riots and protests around Chicago at a coffee shop, Brandon convinced them to instead try and help him locate the Samsara agents he had been searching for. Brandon didn't tell the group about Samsara's nanovirus, only that it was important to find them.
Brandon's team began checking hospitals and medical research facilities in Chicago to see if they could discover where Samsara was crafting the virus. They were interrupted by Agent Corrales and his team deploying on Michigan Avenue to contain another riot that broke out. Brandon was horrified at how brutally Corrales was handling the situation and was worried people would get killed. He had to choose whether to try and stop Corrales, or keep searching for Samsara.
Winning Choice: ...as brutal as this is, a lot more people could die if we don't find Samsara. Corrales may be a brutal control freak, but this is his job and I need to let him do it while we find the people with the nanovirus.
I step back from Corrales, my stomach rolling at the sight of the battle cascading up and down the street. There's a flurry of gunfire, then a boom. It's a fairly big one as far as booms go, but I've seen bigger. I've made bigger.
Corrales turns back to the battle, yelling more instructions into his headset. I hate leaving this maniac and his crew loose, but I have a job to do and he has his. He'll enforce the peace, but I just wish his version of peace wasn't so brutal.
"Corrales," I say, and he glances back. "Stop this mess, but remember that these people are the ones you're supposed to be fighting for." He turns away from me, clearly unimpressed.
I move at super-speed to Corrales' side, and snap the strap holding his sidearm in into the holster. I've taken his gun and returned to where I started just as he starts to register that something happened. He bares his teeth in rage as I dangle the gun towards him from my finger.
"Guns can be taken away, don't forget that," I tell him. I crush the gun with one hand, turning it into a jagged paperweight. I drop Corrales' former firearm, and and it clatters on the asphalt between us. He glares at me, ignoring it.
"Are you done here?" he asks.
I take to the sky.
###
"You should've pounded that fool," Cassie tells me over the radio as I fly back towards the medical center.
"That's your answer for everything," I point out. Rolling onto my back as I fly, the clouds and sky are all I can see. Chicago and it's problems are behind me, below me, invisible for a moment.
"Well... it tends to work for me pretty good so far," she says.
"We'll get our shot with Corrales, don't you worry. I just hope he doesn't reduce Chicago to rubble before we get there." I savor the peace of the sky, then sneak a quick peek ahead of me. Flying into a building while upside down would not really add to the day in any positive way.
Tyler speaks up. "Brandon, I got a message from Carlos and... I dunno..."
There's an unusual uncertainty in his voice. "Carlos, the scruffy guy from the coffee shop?"
"Yeah. They've been setting up watches looking for Samsara, and they think they've found them," he says.
"What?" Cassie yells in response.
That brings me to a stop. I roll back over, bringing Chicago back into view. I hover over the concrete maze. How could this be right?
"Okay," I say. "My first reaction is we've had squads of every genetically enhanced person in the country driving themselves into the ground looking for Samsara..."
"Yep," he agrees.
"So there's no way a bunch of randos are going to beat us to the punch," I tell him, my confidence wavering even as I say it.
"Right," he says, with the same waiver.
"But if I ignore this it'll end up really being Samsara and I'll regret not checking it out for the rest of my life, which may not be that long as a result."
"Pretty much what I was thinking, too," he admits.
"Alright. Cassie, hold tight at the hospital, I'm going to go check this out. If it's nothing, it won't take but a minute. Tyler, where are they?"
"O'Hare. They say the clones just got off a plane."
A plane? Could they not have been in Chicago all this time? My stomach tightens.
"I'm on my way. What terminal are they in? And see if you can figure out what flight they came in on."
I streak towards O'Hare, which is, not surprisingly, pretty damned easy to spot from the air. Its runways and tarmacs and uncharacteristic bit of flatness against the rest of the city. And if I missed that, I could follow the never-ending stream of metal birds pointing the way.
I keep low enough to not get hit by a plane and to hopefully not show up on their radar. As I get closer I grow increasingly baffled. I hate airports. Most things are simpler when viewed from overhead, but not this place. It's a giant, swarming anthill of planes, cars, and people. Utter chaos.
"Tyler, where are they?" I ask.
"Terminal 3," he says. "Came in on a United flight from San Francisco, I think."
I stare down at the airport from the air. "Where the hell is Terminal 3?" I ask. "They don't put the numbers on the roof!"
"Okay, if you're coming up from the-"
"Never mind," I tell him, and drop to the sidewalk on the road leading into the airport. A huge green sign looms over the road, telling travelers where to park or pick up their loved ones. "Got it," I tell him.
Racing along the road at super-speed, I weave through traffic. Nobody seems to notice the whoosh as I zip past. A perk of being in the Windy City, I guess.
I slide to a halt at the Arrivals door of the terminal, and shift my costume back to street clothes to blend in.
Glass doors slide open as I stride inside. "Where's our groupie from the coffee shop?" I ask.
"Downstairs, near baggage claim," he says. "We're trying to find the right cameras down there to see what's going on, but there's like a million of them in that place."
I find the escalator and lope down, not-so-gently nudging aside people who don't keep to the right. At the bottom I see Carlos, looking just as scruffy as the last time I saw him. He's talking nervously with a woman I've never seen.
"Where are the-" I start to ask, but they both nod towards the wall behind me before I can finish.
I turn. Two Chinese men are leaving the bathroom together. Each dressed in identical black suits, with thin black ties, and the similarities don't end there. They are identical in every way, and each sport a face I know so very, very well.
Samsara. Finally.
###
Keeping my voice as low as I can, I hiss just for my team on the radio, "It's them. Two clones, and one is carrying a messenger bag over his shoulder. Tyler, wake up Nicole. Rod, Cassie, get your teams down here as fast as you can."
The pair of clones stop and look at each other for a moment. Damn them and their telepathy; there's no way to eavesdrop. I can't tell if they're waiting for someone else, or if this is it.
"Is that them?" whispers Carlos.
I turn just a bit, keeping my eye on the duplicates. "Yes," I tell him quietly. "You did a great job, but I need you to leave as fast you can, and get as far away from this airport as possible."
"But we want to help. This is our city, too."
"Oh sweet Christmas, I don't have time to discuss this," I tell him. "Those two are carrying a nanobot virus, and they're not human."
"They have super powers, like you?" they ask.
"We're en route, boss," says Cassie on my headset.
"Yes, sort of. Look, what part of 'horrible nanobot virus' don't you get?" I ask him.
"Uh... all of it," he says.
In my ear I hear the whisper of muted discussions as Tyler brings the rest of the team up to speed.
Bags spin in circles, regurgitated onto conveyor belts and waiting for their owners to claim them. Exhausted passengers stand everywhere, checking their phones or staring into space. A steady flow of new bodies comes down from the gates, and an equal flow wander out the glass exit doors to grab a taxi or an Uber or to meet their ride.
The pair of duplicates head across the huge room towards the exits.
"I can't discuss this anymore," I tell Carlos and the woman. "Go. I've got enough blood on my conscience already."
I leave them standing there and head to intercept the pair. So far it doesn't look like they've seen me. For once, I'm the one with the element of surprise.
"Everyone is on their way," Susan says in my ear.
"Have them set up a perimeter around the airport. This virus could kill anyone who's already genetically enhanced so keep them back as a last resort. Where's Tyler?"
"Tyler's frantically trying to hack into the right cameras so we can see what's going on."
"Keep at it," I say, closing in behind the pair.
"You going to follow them?" she asks.
"And risk losing them? Risk this starting all over? Hell no. I need you to evacuate O'Hare," I tell her.
"What?! How the hell are we supposed to do that?"
"Get creative. And do it fast."
###
Once upon a time the duplicates were regular people until they were treated with nanobots that rewrote their DNA as they set up shop in their bodies. Now they all look identical because they are identical. They're stronger and faster than normal people by a whole bunch.
They can talk to each other telepathically, using their nanobots to communicate. They can also manipulate electricity, shooting powerful bolts and screwing with surrounding gadgets.
Of course, Samsara will tell you they're the good guys. Their nanobot treatment prevents disease, keeps people healthy, and in all likelihood these guys will live a very long time. Well, unless I get ahold of them.
The DNA changes also makes them heavily conditioned to obey the orders of their Samsara bosses. The process not only does away with individual looks, it does away with individual thoughts. The virus they're trying to perfect will turn everyone into duplicates like them.
Once upon a time I would've tried to talk with them. Once upon a time I would've tried for a fair fight.
But once upon a time is for fairy tales, and the lives at stake here are real.
One of the duplicates is walking just ahead of the other. I fall in step behind them as my heart races and my nanobots start to hum. The power flowing through me makes me almost giddy.
I tap the dupe on his left shoulder and whisper "Welcome to Chicago," in his ear. Startled, he turns to his left and I duck around to his right.
It's an old joke, but you know what... it's still funny.
"Let me carry your bag for you," I say as I snatch his messenger bag with one hand and deck him as hard as I can with the other.
Since I've pulled apart tanks, it's safe to say 'as hard as I can' is pretty hard. Bone crunches as he flies across the room and slams into one of the baggage return carousels with a resounding thud.
"I hope you enjoy your stay," I add.
His partner turns to me, his eyes glowing white and hands crackling with energy. These duplicates and their little lightning-bolt shots knocked out my nanobots the last time we fought. Well, I've had some upgrades since then.
I transform my clothes back into my costume as the duplicate reaches for me. He's fast, but I'm faster.
Jagged lightning shoots from Duplicate Two's hands, but I duck under and spring up to catch him hard in the chest with my shoulder. He flies backwards, his blast arcing up into the ceiling and away from bystanders. Fragments of ceiling tile rain down across the room.
This causes the bystanders to finally get on script and start running away in earnest, a few of them even screaming in the customary manner.
As Duplicate Two hits the carpet, Duplicate One returns to the fray and launches himself at me, plowing into me so hard I drop the messenger bag. "We were hoping you would be here," One says.
"So you could cross getting your ass kicked by me off your bucket list?" I reply.
I grab his fancy jacket by the lapels, whirl around, and throw him right back into the baggage return. This time I've brought my friend Angular Momentum to the party and he hits a lot harder. He tears through the first carousel like a cannonball, shredding the thing and scattering luggage everywhere. He bounces off the next luggage return down the line, leaving a rather sizable dent.
Duplicate Two rolls over and gets smoothly to his feet. He's so unruffled you'd think he was getting up from a nap rather than a small break in the middle of tearing apart a major American airport. He adjusts his jacket.
"No," Two says, "We want you here to see our victory when we set these people free."
I shuffle back a step, glancing down to try and locate that damned messenger bag without taking my eye off the duplicate. It was the only thing they were carrying, so I'd bet a donut the virus is in there... and I don't part with donuts easily.
"Controlling people's bodies and minds doesn't fit any definition of freedom I've ever heard of," I tell him.
"I am free from disease and from weakness. I am smarter and stronger than I ever was. That is freedom," he keeps walking towards me and I keep backing up.
Two says something else but it is drowned out by the WHOOP-WHOOP of the fire alarm. Susan must've figured out how to activate it to help clear the place out. Better late than never, I suppose.
Duplicate Two stops, and I get only a sliver of a moment to wonder why before a shower of electricity rips into me from off to my right. Everything goes wobbly, and when it clears I'm laying on the ground and looking at the world sideways. Things hurt.
Walking my way across the sideways floor is a female duplicate. She must've been outside waiting for her two comrades. I should've done more recon to make sure they were alone. Minus twenty points for me.
The female duplicate, who I'll just call Three for lack of any immediate creativity on my part, wears a pantsuit similar to the two guys. She looks down at me, hands arcing and sparking, and the carpet fibers in front of my face stand on end.
It occurs to me that I need to move.
Three lets loose with another blast, but all she does is scorch the carpet and detonate a red roller bag that was sitting on the floor behind me. I'm up and speeding across the room towards Two.
"I'm sick of you brainwashed copycats," I say as I hit Two with a right cross. He staggers so I hit him with a left, then another right. He topples over as I smell the ozone of another lightning blast starting. I move again, and the blast nearly hits Two instead.
"I'm sick of your stupid virus, I'm sick of chasing you, and I'm sick of your insane plans." I race behind Three and grab her in a chokehold.
She grabs my arm and discharges a massive shock into me. This time, though, my nanobots and I are ready for it. They adjust and readjust, matching the frequency of the power she releases, absorbing it. She realizes it's not working and tries brute force instead.
I pull her ear close and whisper "And most of all I'm sick of you thinking your power gives you the right to hurt other people."
She twists in my grip, clawing at my arm with her considerable strength. "It's you..." she croaks. "It's you who let people suffer through your arrogance."
The floor under us explodes, knocking me back and freeing Three from my grip. She drops to the ground, gasping for air. One staggers towards us, his right arm extended to fire again, while his left hangs limp and broken from his shoulder. His face is a torn and bloody mess, but already stitching itself back together in front of my eyes.
"We want to freely share what we have," One says. "You deny these gifts to everyone. Who is the one seeking control?"
A rather large quantity of bullets interrupts us. Big ones from the way they feel bouncing off my back, and from the way they tear through One. Part of his chest explodes, and I doubt his nanobots are going to be able to fix that. They miss Three entirely, who stares in shock at One. "No!," she screams.
The cops who are firing at us as they advance into the room are several steps above TSA. More like SWAT from their body armor and weapons.
"Stop shooting," I yell. "I've got this. I'm a good guy! See the super hero costume?"
This line of reasoning does not impress them and they open fire again. They're not even yelling the traditional "get down" or "hands up," so they obviously have different orders than to capture us.
Three turns on them, her hands glowing like bright balls of white fire. I smell the tang of ozone as she unleashes the power of the thunderstorm.
A single, wicked bolt lashes across the room, leaping brutally from one cop to the next. It melts off their armor and incinerates their clothes beneath. Their bodies contort horribly in the searing light, and they appear to scream but either I cannot hear them over the deafening noise or they are dead before their cries reach their lips.
It's over in a fraction of a second, leaving the smell of burnt flesh in my nose and a dizzying green afterimage in my eyes. I blink, trying to drive away the images of everything I've just seen.
Three lowers her hands, still smoking with heat. She's a little wobbly from the exertion, and stumbles before regaining her composure.
"How could you just... just..." I don't even know how to describe what I just saw.
"They shot Heng," she says.
"They were people!"
"They were human. Random genes cobbled together to make defective patchworks. Animals like them have had their time. We are crafted, engineered, better in every way."
"With this?" a terrified voice asks. "That's what this is all about?"
Against the wall on the far side of the room, cowering in the doorway to the men's bathroom, is Carlos. Nearby, the twisted and burnt body of the woman he was with lies in the smoking carnage that used to be baggage claim. I never learned her name.
At Carlos' feet is the messenger bag, and in his hands is a terrifyingly familiar device. It's identical to the small aerosol can I was sprayed with by the river. The one that held the failed version of the virus and killed the other members of Nicole's team.
The one in his hands contains their new version.
"Give it to me," I tell him.
"This will give me powers like them? Like you?" he asks.
"Yes," says Two. "He wants to keep power like ours for himself. We are here to share it. Join us."
Carlos looks from me to Three, his finger on the spray button and his eyes wild and unsure.
I think my best bet is to...
1. ...try to reason with him. He has to see how dangerous the duplicates are, and if I can get him to take his finger off the button then I can take care of Three.
2. ...speed over and snatch it from him. I'm fast, but can I pull it from his hand before he presses the button intentionally... or by accident. It would also mean turning my back on Three, and she's pretty fast herself.
3. ...take out Three, then deal with Carlos. Three's too dangerous to turn my back on while Carlos and the virus is out in the open. I can't imagine he'd set it off while I'm taking care of Three.
Leave your vote in the comments below, along with why you chose that option. Where this story goes and what happens next is really up to you! Comments on what you think about the characters, story, writing, etc., are also welcome. In fact, I'd love it!
And if you're enjoying this story, please take a moment to click the Vote button as that helps other people find it. Thank you!