The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1) (14 page)

Tracee came up behind him and added her bullets. They
started falling quickly, clearing a way.

“Over here!” Tracee said.

Donovan heard the others run up behind him. He chanced a
glance. Everyone was still there. A cut above Jonathan’s eyebrow was bleeding
into his face. His limped a little—his leg sporting a mass of blood from some
wound.

Captain Umar’s arm was limp at his side. His face was white
as milk, but he bravely used the other arm to continue shooting. Colonel
McGregor seemed to be okay.

“Umar, McGregor, take the left. Tracee, Jonathan, take the
right. I’ll lead. Whatever you do, don’t let them touch you!”

Donovan made every effort not to let the clones touch him.
He knew that if they got hold of him it might all be over. They could fatally
injure him with a punch to the right place. At the thought of this, an image of
Eric swam in his head—eyes bulging, spit flying from his mouth as the clone in
the lab punched him in the stomach.

Donovan couldn’t let them land a single blow. He kept shooting.
Soon, he needed to reload.

“I’m out!”

“Switch with me,” Tracee said. She stepped in front of him
and kept firing.

Donovan took her place beside Jonathan. Jonathan covered him
while he reloaded his gun. When he was finished, he switched with Tracee again.

In this way they shifted as needed and forged a bloody
walkway through the sea of clones. Donovan wasn’t aware of when it happened,
but finally they broke through.

Suddenly, there were hundreds of clones behind them and none
in front of them.

They ran.

Jonathan quickly fell behind. Looking back, Donovan could
tell that he was in severe pain trying to keep up the pace. But if they slowed
down even a little, the clones would catch them. They were fast.

At frequent intervals, Donovan slowed down until he was in
the back of the group, leaving Tracee to lead. Then he ran backwards and shot
the closest clones, covering Jonathan so that he could catch up.

They turned corners and burst through doors, trying to get
to the exit.

At some point Donovan realized that Jonathan wasn’t going to
make it. He gave Jonathan his gun as they ran and, without stopping, swung the
boy over his shoulder.

“Shoot them!” he shouted.

Donovan heard the fire of the weapons resounding in his
ears. He heard satisfying thuds as clones fell to the ground.

When they approached the main door, a heart-sinking thought
occurred to Donovan—what if they had destroyed the ship?

They burst through the doors.

To Donovan’s relief, the ship was still there. They ran to
it. Some of them stumbling over rocks. The clones still pursued them. Donovan
wondered if they would follow the team to earth.

Tracee opened the ship doors as they approached and they all
ran safely inside. Tracee hurriedly hit the button to close the door. The clones
were almost to the ship.

The door crept closed.

Too slowly.

Before it could swing shut, the first clone reached it and
wrenched it back open. Tracee kicked it hard in the stomach. Donovan doubt that
it was hurt, but it lost its balance and fell to the ground below.

“Tracee! Fly the ship. We’ll take care of the clones.”

Tracee did as Donovan said while the rest of them kept
firing outside the door, trying not to let another one get that close. Donovan
pulled a second gun from his holster.

The engines flared. The ship began to rise slowly from the
ground. Donovan ran out of ammo. A few seconds later, so did Jonathan. Captain
Umar was sitting down, clutching his arm, unable to hold off the pain and
fight.

Colonel McGregor kept up his fire. But it was hardly enough
to keep all of them back.

The ship was three feet off the ground when a wall of clones
reached the half-open door. Donovan pushed McGregor back and tried to close it,
but the nearest clone pushed its arm in and pulled it open.

Donovan mimicked what Tracee had done earlier and kicked it
full in the stomach. But the force of bodies behind the clone steadied it. It
was able to maintain its grip. The ship rose another five feet from the ground,
leaving the rest of the clones to glare up at them, frustration and hate in
their eyes.

The one Tobias who had made it onto the ship leapt at
Donovan, fist raised. Donovan ducked underneath its arms to the open door.

General McGregor aimed his gun and fired, but his gun
clicked impotently—he had run out of bullets.

The clone pushed McGregor roughly to the side. He banged his
head on the metal wall of the cabin and lay on the floor, unconscious.

The clone charged Donovan again, the light of victory
shining on its face.

At the last second, Donovan dodged to the left.

The clone tried to pull up short, to grab onto something,
but its momentum carried it away. It flew through the door and landed on the
ground twenty feet below. Donovan looked down at its crumpled body and did not
feel triumph.

He was exhausted and half his team was injured. They had
made it out alive. The natural extinct of his body was to feel relief.

But his heart and mind knew the truth—they had survived this
fight—but Tobias would win.

They hadn’t found a cure.

Tracee opened up a teleportation field and flew through it.
They traveled through the wormhole toward home, toward Earth.

They had survived, but they were already dead.

“Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while
defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”

—Sun Tzu

May 16, 2176

Fort Belvoir, VA

Donovan Knight

Donovan and the others arrived at Fort Belvoir in silence.

Donovan instructed the others to get medical assistance
while he and Tracee reported to General Umar. He commanded them to search Tobias’s
lab in Atlanta one more time, just in case they missed something. Maybe there
was another hidden door they hadn’t found.

Donovan thought it was pointless but did it anyway—despite
the aches in his body from fighting Tobias’s clones—just so he could feel like
he was doing
something
. Colonel McGregor had suffered a pretty hard hit
on the head—he was still out cold. Jonathan and Captain Umar were having their
shattered limbs repaired piece by piece.

Donovan and Tracee conducted the search. They returned to
Tobias’s house. They looked everywhere. To Donovan’s surprise, they found a
hidden safe under a single tile in the floor of the secret room.

Inside it was a single vial, about the length of a drinking
straw. Donovan was sure he knew exactly what was inside. Tobias had put it
there on purpose. They were supposed to find it. What Tobias wanted them to do
with it, Donovan didn’t know. More than likely, it was a trap.

When they showed it to General Umar, he had it sent to
Captain Umar’s team for testing.

“Rest while you can,” he said. “I’ll be summoning you again
as soon as the results are in. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Donovan retreated to his room. Too exhausted to shower, he
fell on top of the sheets and fell asleep immediately.

The summons came a few hours later. Donovan stretched the
weariness from his limbs and reported to General Umar’s office. Tracee and
Captain Umar were there. Captain Umar’s arm was in a sling. He still looked a
little pale but, on the whole, much improved.

“We have the results,” he said. “The vial contains the
strengthening formula that Tobias told us about. We estimate that it’s enough
for a dozen people. The question is—what do we do with it?”

“Are you sure that’s all that’s in there? There’s nothing
hidden in it?”

“I looked at it myself,” Captain Umar said. “As far as I can
tell, it’s just formula. I could be wrong of course, but…”

General Umar waved a hand. “Oh, stop being modest. You’re
the brightest mind in biology. If you say that’s all there is, then that’s all
there is.”

Captain Umar blushed and looked down. “Thank you, Father.”

It was the first time Donovan had heard Captain Umar
acknowledge that General Umar was his father.

The General nodded.

“So,” Donovan said. “The question is what do we do next?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” General Umar said. “We must
prepare ourselves for battle.”

“Battle?” Donovan said, alarmed. “We can’t go into battle
with Tobias! Those clones would crush us.”

“As long as we have the proper weapons, we’ll be fine.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t have to fight them off. They
heal just as quickly as you can shoot them down. They’re
strong
. If they
get their hands on you, you’re dead. They can jump higher, move faster, see farther…
it’s too dangerous. It should be a last resort.”

“This
is
the last resort, Donovan. What would you
have us do? Conduct more searches? There is nowhere left to search. Judging by
the last two attempts, I don’t think that’s a good idea anyway.”

“I’m just saying that we shouldn’t rush into it,” Donovan
argued. “Give me some time to think. I’ll come up with something.”

“We don’t have time,” General Umar said. “Tobias could
strike at any moment. We must catch him off guard.”

“And the formula?” Donovan asked. “You don’t plan to use it,
do you?”

“Of course not.” Something about the way the General’s eyes
shifted made Donovan suspicious.

“Then what will you do with it?”

“I’m going to let the T.M.A.C.P.U. deal with it. I’m going
to call a meeting and get everyone’s input. It’s not for me to decide what to
do with such a thing. I can’t decide who lives and dies. I can’t decide who to
give that power to.”

Donovan accepted his answer tentatively.

“But wait,” Tracee interrupted.

Donovan had almost forgotten she was there.

“Shouldn’t we be using this to our advantage? Shouldn’t we
use the formula on our best soldiers and give ourselves a fighting chance?”

General Umar looked at her speculatively.

“No—I don’t trust it,” Donovan said. “We can’t trust
anything having to do with Tobias.”

“He’s right,” General Umar said. “We can’t use it. We must
hand it over to the T.M.A.C.P.U.”

“Thank you, General,” Donovan said. “But please reconsider
giving me more time to think. I know Tobias is up to something. What if—what if
this whole thing is only a distraction? What if the cure is closer to us than
we think? Hidden in plain sight?”

Both Umars looked skeptical.

“Just think about it,” Donovan said, beginning to pace with
his frenzied thoughts. “Tobias is a master of deception—we know this. The facilities
on Lohiri look like a fortress, look like a place where something important
would be hidden and defended. But what if that was all a façade? I mean, we got
in there easily enough. What if he just wants to draw our attention to Lohiri
so that we don’t look at other places?”

“I’m sorry, Donovan,” General Umar said. “That’s a good
hypothesis, but there’s no real evidence to support that. What we do know for
sure is that Tobias has an army on Lohiri—and we cannot allow that army to
exist. It is a threat that must be eliminated.”

“You’re sentencing your men to death.”

“They will have everything they need to have a fair shot.”

Donovan shook his head stubbornly. “They’ll all die.”

“I’m sorry that you think that way. We will attack in 48
hours. You will lead the soldiers against Tobias’s clones.”

A stone fell onto Donovan’s chest. He couldn’t do it. He
wouldn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

Donovan left the room in a flurry of action. He made an
effort not to slam the door behind him. He returned to his room, sickened by
the discussion. His whole team would be sent into battle. Tracee, Jonathan,
Captain Umar, Colonel McGregor—they would all die.

This was their duty, wasn’t it? This is what they’d signed
up for. They were prepared to risk their lives.

Not like this!

We can’t die like this.

He had to think of something.

Someone knocked on the door. It was Tracee.

She rushed inside and stood in the middle of the room,
breathing hard.

“Tracee,” Donovan said, seeing the look on her face. “What
is it?”

She crossed the room in one stride and threw herself onto
him. Her mouth met his with the force of a passionate attack. For a moment,
caught up in the hopeless emotion of knowing that he would die soon, he kissed
her back.

The warmth of her felt good against him. He pulled her body
closer, crushing her. She moaned.

Then, he found his senses. He couldn’t do this. Hands
trembling, he gently disentangled himself from her embrace.

“I can’t do this,” Donovan said. “I’m married. I can’t”

Tracee held his face in one hand. She looked at him
endearingly. “It’s 2176,” she said. “You’re not married yet. Technically…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Donovan said. “I still remember it. I
still love my wife. I can’t do this to her.”

Tracee looked hurt. She pulled away from him, face contorted
with it.

“Fine.” She slowed her breathing. “I’ll just… go.”

Donovan sat on the bed and nodded. He couldn’t look at her.
He heard the door close.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn’t
believe he’d let that happen. He’d flirted with her too much. Led her to
believe that something between them was possible.

He would apologize later. Right then, he had to think. He
had to find a way out of this. He began to pace the floor.

Nothing of any brilliance came to him. As he made his away
across the room for what seemed the hundredth time, a clicking noise came from
his computer.

Donovan looked at it. The machine had turned on of its own accord.

Donovan stared, frowning, as the screen lit up. An image
came into focus.

It was a live feed.

The video showed a large room. In it were General Umar,
Captain Umar, Colonel McGregor—when had
he
woken up and why wasn’t Donovan
told?—Jonathan, and Tracee. What the hell was going on? Why were they meeting
without him?

Donovan walked over to the screen. He sat in the desk chair
without moving his eyes. He recognized that room—it was the high security vault
of floor fifty-eight. Why were they gathered there of all places? And, more
importantly, where was this feed coming from? Why was he seeing this?

It couldn’t be some coincidental wiring mishap. Someone
wanted him to see this, but who?

Before Donovan could think too deeply on it, the voice of
General Umar came through the speaker, loud and clear. Donovan jumped in his
seat, startled.

“We will attack the day after tomorrow,” General McGregor
said. “It is doubtful that Brigadier General Knight will cooperate. If that is the
case, Tracee will lead you. You will take the formula to Lohiri. Brigadier
General Knight is to know nothing of this. His judgement is too clouded. He
will only cause trouble if he finds out.

“Captain Umar, you are to administer the formula to Tracee
upon your arrival. The rest of you will do your utmost to protect her. She will
be our best shot at killing Tobias. You’re sure that your device will work,
Captain Umar? Colonel McGregor?”

“Yes, sir,” Colonel McGregor said. “I took it with me to
Lohiri, just to test a theory I had. All of the clones have slightly different
brain waves. Despite being genetic replicas of Tobias, they have minds of their
own. I couldn’t use it then because we were overwhelmed, but with more soldiers
and Tracee’s additional strength, I think we should have a shot at finding him.
The original was definitely there.”

“Good.” General Umar addressed them all. “Your mission is to
kill Tobias at all costs. We need to make sure that he’s dead. Then we can
search for a cure unencumbered. If we can’t find it, we will rely on Captain
Umar’s team to create one. It may take time, but the gene won’t activate for
many years. Our most immediate threat right now is Tobias and his army. Is this
understood?”

“I don’t think we should do this father,” Captain Umar said.
“We shouldn’t use this formula. I agree with Donovan—we can’t trust it. We
should give Donovan a little time—just a day or two—to think of a better plan.”

Jonathan looked at General Umar hopefully. “I agree with
Captain Umar,” he said.

General Umar’s face froze. “This mission has already been
decided. You will either obey or suffer the consequences of insubordination.”

He left the room leaving Donovan’s team to stew in silence.

The sound of the feed cut off leaving only the silent images
of Jonathan talking to Captain Umar. Then, the picture shifted. Another image
appeared.

It was Tobias. He was being filmed from the waist up.

“What did I tell you, m’boy?” he said with a sympathetic
smile. “Full of lies and deception, your precious world. They have betrayed
you. I was right about humans—they’re lost. Nothing can bring them back to the
light.

“I offer you one last chance, Donovan. Join me. If you
agree, come to Lohiri before General Umar attacks. I will handle the problem
here and send you back to your own time.”

He leaned forward as if to turn off the camera then stopped.

“Oh, before I go—if you chose to come—steal the formula and
use it. I left it there for you.”

The screen went black.

Donovan’s mind was reeling. This was all happening too
quickly. He forced his mind to slow down.

Think, Knight. Think hard.

He had to stop them from attacking. Tobias was confident
that he would defeat them—and with reason. His army was strong. The Army and
Space Force wouldn’t be able to win with the amount of soldiers they had at
Fort Belvoir now—about a thousand—even if Tracee did take the formula.

They would need ten times as many fighters—that would mean
going public with the mission, recruiting soldiers for war. Even if that were
possible, Tobias could easily strike before they got organized.

The only reason that General Umar believed he could win was
because he had the formula. Donovan was sure that General Umar never meant to
attack without it. Maybe Donovan could force him to come up with something
else…

That was it!

Donovan knew what he had to do.

He went to Captain Umar’s room as quickly as he could
without attracting attention. He wanted to run but forced himself not to.

He knocked on the Captain’s door, sweat beginning to bead on
his forehead from nervous anticipation.

Captain Umar had hardly cracked the door when Donovan pushed
his way inside.

“What’s going on Knight?” He rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you, I need to speak with you, it’s urgent.”
The words all tumbled out of his mouth without pauses in between.

“What is it?” He looked a little more alert now.

“This formula that we found,” Donovan said. “Are you
absolutely
sure that there’s nothing more to it than strengthening?”

Captain Umar nodded slowly. “Yes… I’m sure. Wh…?”

“It wouldn’t have any fatal or harmful side effects?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with it. Donovan why
are you…?”

“Thanks, Captain,” Donovan said. “Gotta go.”