I walked past the empty reception desk and shoved open the doors to Volkov’s office. Volkov had his back to me, a thick cloud of cigarette smoke around his head. The filing cabinets along one side of the room were all flung open, their contents spread across the desk. Volkov rubbed his bald head as he shoved papers aside. He snatched a folder from under a stack, flicked it open, and started scribbling something on it. On the desk, atop an open book of his own writing, lay a heavy pistol.
“Planning on going down with the ship, Professor?” I said as I strode into the room.
Volkov jerked around, his hand going for the gun. He stopped when he saw me, then turned his back and continued to pore over his notes.
“I thought you would be on a ship by now,” Volkov said. He stubbed out a cigarette on the edge of his desk and drew another one from his pocket. “I’m rather busy, Mr Escobar.”
Out the wall-spanning window behind him, a blur of bodies and claws went hurtling past. Grotesque slammed into the ground outside and the whole tower shook. Dust puffed down from the ceiling tiles and a stack of Volkov’s papers slipped off the edge of his desk, scattering across the floor.
“I won’t take up much of your time. But we need to talk.” I sat down on one of the couches and grabbed the half-empty pitcher of water off the coffee table. I didn’t bother with a glass, just gulped it down straight from the pitcher. My throat had been killing me. I put the pitcher down and wiped my mouth with my hands. I could taste the blood on them. “I guess everything’s gone tits up. Care to explain how this is possible?”
“I’m trying to fix it. You’re not helping.”
“I disagree,” I said. “I think I’m the only person on this damn island who’s got a chance of stopping all this.”
“And how do you propose to do that, Mr Escobar?”
“Easy. Kill Tempest. The same way someone killed Yllia.”
Volkov froze. His head twitched towards me. He glanced at his pistol resting on the desk.
I reached into my pocket and drew my revolver, letting it rest in my lap. Letting him see it. Just so he didn’t do anything stupid. Sure, I was mad at Volkov. His tech was supposed to be foolproof. It was supposed to keep us safe from the Maydays. The Alliance had bet on it, I’d bet on it. And now here we were, with Tempest stampeding through the city. My people dead. Healy dead. But that didn’t mean I was going to shoot Volkov.
Probably. I was still thinking about it.
Volkov turned slowly. He didn’t look at the gun again. Probably for the best. “Tempest is Volkov company property.”
I laughed a bitter laugh. “Ah, go fuck yourself. Soon Tempest will be the only bit of Volkov property left. Have you looked out the window? He wants you, you know. He’s waiting for you to go outside.”
Volkov sniffed, cast a glance out the window. Outside, Tempest delivered a spinning blow to Grotesque, sending the reptilian Mayday crashing to the ground. He moved in for another attack, but just then one of the pustules on Grotesque’s flank bulged and burst. Thick yellow liquid splashed out with the force of a fire hose. Tempest roared and backed away from the toxic liquid.
I got up and went to stand beside Volkov. “I’m here to ask you a few questions. Then I’ll be on my way.”
“You work for me.”
“That’s right. And you hired me to do a job. I’d like to see it through. So I’d appreciate it if you answered my questions. If not, well, I figure I’ll shoot you in the head right now and toss your body out the window for Tempest to enjoy. You can consider that my resignation.”
Volkov turned on me. “You threaten me?”
I put the barrel of my revolver between his eyes, right on that thick monobrow. “Yeah. I threaten you.”
He glared at me. He didn’t seem particularly scared.
“Very well,” he said around his cigarette. “Ask your questions.”
I lowered the gun. “Thanks, Boss. Appreciate it. First, you want to tell me why they targeted Yllia? Assuming they had the ability to kill any Mayday, why go after her?”
“How would I know?”
“Speculate. Could it have anything to do with Irkutsk?”
His cheek twitched. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. “What do you know of Irkutsk?”
“I know your lab was there when Yllia attacked. I know she came directly for you. I know you’re still alive, which is an impressive feat when you’re in the middle of a Mayday attack. And I know you finished developing the LIM prototype soon after. What I’m a little fuzzy on is how that all fits together.”
Volkov chewed it over a few seconds. I gestured impatiently.
“We’re on the clock, Professor.”
“You still work for this company. You are bound by your non-disclosure agreement to keep anything I say now between us.” I smirked and opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “Yes, even during extreme circumstances such as these. Do you agree, Mr Escobar?”
I threw up my hands. “Sure, why not.”
“Prior to Yllia’s attack on Irkutsk, our research was going nowhere. We were investigating potential bioweapons for use against the Maydays. Parasites, mostly.”
“What about the LIM?” I said.
“There was no LIM. Not yet. The Alliance was considering pulling our funding. Then Yllia attacked.” He closed his eyes. “We lost most of our people that day. Many before we even knew what was happening. Scientists, lab assistants, they just started killing themselves, all at once. Throwing themselves off catwalks, slitting their own throats with broken glassware. It was unbelievable. We had no defence against a Mayday, no bunker. We were a small group, operating out of an underground lab. When she came down and used her plasma to blow a hole in our ceiling, I was sure we would all die that day.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Yes,” he said. “Here I am. We did what we could to hold Yllia off. More of us died. But during the attack, something happened. I will not bore you with the science. You would not understand it. But the key point is this. When Yllia left, we had the building blocks of a rudimentary LIM system.”
I scratched my beard with the barrel of my revolver. “Spell it out nice and slow for me.”
“Yllia has powerful psychic abilities, yes? The ability to manipulate us.”
It dawned on me. “And you took that somehow? You, what, reverse-engineered her powers? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes, Mr Escobar. My impulse control technology is based on Yllia’s abilities. We had the prototype functional in a month. Soon after, we captured Serraton in Laos. And then Grotesque, and Nasir, and so on, until we had them all under control.”
“Fascinating.” I watched through the window for a few seconds as Nasir shoved Tempest back, before Tempest ducked under his arms and sunk his claws deep into Nasir’s side. “Doesn’t tell me why Yllia was targeted, though. I assume this won’t stop you making the LIM.”
“No. But….” He frowned and sucked on his cigarette.
My gaze slid back to the window. “Tempest breaking impulse control. It’s connected.”
“I didn’t think this would happen. I still do not understand why Yllia’s death has caused the LIM’s impulse control to weaken. But, yes, it appears so. I suspect Yllia’s presence on the island generated a level of latent psychic activity that boosted the strength of the LIMs. I must find a way to replicate that activity so I may recapture Tempest. A task which you seem intent on interrupting.”
“You really think you can pull that off before Tempest gets impatient and knocks this building to the ground? Stay here, run away, shuffle papers, I don’t care. As long as you answer my questions first. And I’ve got a pressing one. If Tempest’s broken impulse control, does that mean the others will go as well?”
“It is possible.”
I turned away, running a hand through my hair. “Jesus. We’re not just going to have Tempest stomping around. We’re going to lose control of all of them.”
“I will find a way to improve the LIMs,” Volkov said. “I can maintain order.”
I laughed. “Sure you can. Sure. The Alliance is going to have your head. But I guess that’s not my problem. Here’s what I know. Yllia’s handler was seen at Yllia’s pit around the time she died. Could she have any legitimate reason for being there?”
“During the night? Not to my knowledge. This is Miss Dasari, correct? Who saw her there?”
I waved my hand. “Not important. I’ve got my people picking her up as soon as they find her. We know some MPF splinter group was interested in her. For what, it’s not clear. But a handful of them have infiltrated the island. It’s not really a reach to think that maybe they killed Yllia so the Maydays would be free of impulse control.”
“That is not possible,” Volkov said. “Not even I knew the effect Yllia’s death would have on the LIM systems. And very few know how the LIM was developed.”
“How few?”
“Myself. And Catherine.”
“Catherine? Dr Russell?”
“Yes. But I cannot believe that she would be involved—”
I held up my hand. “Leave the disbelief to me, Professor.” I dug the walkie-talkie out of my pocket and turned my back to Volkov. “Su-jin. Come in, you there?”
It was a few seconds before the reply came. “I am still alive, but if these Maydays continue fighting I may not remain that way.”
“Have you found Dr Russell?”
“The Biology building’s upper floors are demolished. I’m trying to gain access to the basement laboratories. If she is alive, I believe this is where I will find her. She has no family on the island. Nowhere else to go.”
“Great,” I said. “If and when you find her, take her into custody and put the screws on her.” I relayed the information I’d gathered from Volkov. “If she’s got ties to this MPF group, I want to know.”
Su-jin acknowledged the order and I turned back to Volkov.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said. “If I am unable to improve the LIM, Catherine may be our only hope.”
“I’ll take the risk.”
Volkov moved to the window and stared out. I stayed where I was, thinking. I needed that murder weapon. If Dr Russell knew what killed Yllia, maybe I could use it against Tempest. But if the secret was buried here among Volkov’s papers, I couldn’t see it.
My walkie crackled again. “Boss.”
“Lindsey.” My heart pounded. “Have you got Dasari?”
“I saw her. It’s madness here. She slipped through the crowd and made for the wards.”
“Fantastic. Great job. Keep an eye on her and don’t let her leave. Break her legs if you have to. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Roger, Boss.”
“How’s Chiaki?”
“It’s…not looking good.”
I closed my eyes, my fist tightening around the walkie. “All right. Keep Dasari in sight.”
I tucked my walkie into my pocket and returned to the coffee table to finish off the water pitcher. This was it. That bitch had screwed me around long enough. She was going to tell me how she killed Yllia. And then this miserable goddamn day could be over.
I smiled to myself and glanced at Volkov. He was staring out the window. The Maydays had moved out of sight, but I could still hear them fighting. Grotesque was making a horrible squealing hissing sound that was accompanied by repeated thuds that shook the foundations of the building. I’d almost feel sorry for Grotesque if he wasn’t a mass murdering monster.
“Well, if I don’t see you again, it’s been a pleasure, Professor,” I said.
He turned back to me. The lines on his face were deeper than I remembered. “This company will endure. This, all this destruction, it is tragic. But it will not be our demise. Finish your job, Mr Escobar. Find out what happened, and your place here will be assured. I am putting a great deal of faith in you and your team. But if you attempt to destroy any of the company’s…assets…I will not be so grateful.”
“Me and my team?” I said. “Do you even hear yourself? My team? My team is dead. Your asset killed them.” I jabbed my finger towards the window. “It’s not a fucking photocopier. It’s a monster. And if I can put it down, I—”
A black eye appeared in the window behind Volkov. A reptilian eyelid blinked closed and open again, focussing on me. The words caught in my throat.
Volkov stared at me for a moment, puzzled. He turned towards the window. Grotesque’s gaze moved to Volkov. The monster let out a delighted hiss.
Fuck. Grotesque was free.
Volkov took a step back. That was as far as he got. Grotesque’s paw smashed through the window, firing shards of glass through the room. I grunted and toppled backwards, shielding my eyes as a flurry of tiny pains prickled my bare skin.
When I opened my eyes, Volkov was gone. I thought he’d been eaten. Then I saw Grotesque slithering away, a tiny figure clutched in his paw.
My head pounded. Not again. Jesus. I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled across Volkov’s office on rubber legs. The rain was coming straight in, hammering my face, stinging the new cuts that had appeared. Half the office floor was gone; the desk now teetered on the edge of a drop down to the next level. I shivered in the sudden wind.
Nasir lay on the rubble of the city as Tempest rained blows down on him. Grotesque approached the fighting Maydays, and Tempest’s attack ceased. Grotesque raised Volkov. An offering. I guess Tempest had finally lost patience.
Tempest puffed out his chest. I swear he was grinning at me. He tilted his head back and let loose a victorious, screeching roar. I stood in numb horror, watching. I knew I should move, should get the hell out of here, but my legs were frozen.
With the same surprising dexterity he’d displayed when catching the helicopter, Tempest reached out and pinched Volkov between his claws. I couldn’t even see Volkov now, he was so far away, but I thought I could feel an echo of his terror.
Grotesque bounded on Nasir while Tempest went to work on Volkov. The smoke and distance made it unclear exactly what Tempest was doing with his claws. I was glad. I could see the glee on Tempest’s alien face. An expression for me and those of us remaining. I got the feeling that Volkov’s torment was as much for my benefit as for Tempest’s. A message.
You’re next.
~~~
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