XXXV

Day Ten: Like Breathing Death Itself

“Explain it to me,” I snapped as I followed Belling into the hall. I was getting sick and tired of mysteries.

“It takes a bit of time,” he said conversationally, as if discussing the action on his gun or the juice rates on illegal loans off the Bowery. “First they have to die-that varies, as you’ve no doubt noticed. Some go right away, some linger for days while their chests collapse and they cough blood. Once they’re dead, there’s that marinating. They look dead. They are dead. But those tiny little buggers inside them are doing something.”

“Repairing damage,” Marko said without looking up from his handheld. “Bringing the physical shell of the body back into basic operating shape. Sealing off and rebuilding broken vessels. Taking cellular material from the portion of the body they won’t need anymore-the brain-and modifying it to create stem cells, which are used to repair arteries and destroyed organs.”

“Thank you, Zeke,” Belling rumbled, stopping outside a pair of swinging doors and turning back to us. The square panes of glass set into the doors showed a darkened room beyond lit only by a scattering of signs suspended from the ceiling, a rainbow of cheery colors in the gloom. “Whatever it is, people pop up after a period of time-hours sometimes, days mostly. They come back, Avery. They’re not who they were. They’re not even human anymore. They’ve got blood pumping through their veins, they’re breathing, but the nanobots are directing things. They’re like biological robots.” He looked at me. “Your people, Avery, were the first ones to go down with this. They’re the first ones to come back.” He jerked his head over his shoulder. “Kev’s got himself a couple of bodyguards. And more on the vine.”

I stared over his shoulder at the doors, feeling a slow anger filling me like syrup, steady and thick. I’d spent my whole life trying to walk the line-for this bullshit? This was my reward? I didn’t have people anymore; they’d been stolen from me. My city was gone, a shell filled with corpses, corpses that would, it seemed, soon be up and dancing to Dennis Squalor’s tune. I’d played by the rules for years, and I’d been beaten and shot at and thrown around like a fucking rag doll. I was sick and fucking tired of waiting for my reward.

“More on the vine,” I said dully.

Belling raised his eyebrow again, and I thought that one of these days I would hold the old man down and shave that fucking eyebrow off. “A few days ago, Mr. Cates, New York reached a tipping point. Most of the population was sick or dead, our friends the System Pigs, like the useless tubs of shit they are, were getting scarce-no offense, my dear-and things were going haywire everywhere. People had even stopped looting, Mr. Cates, if you can imagine it, because there was no longer any point. Thousands, packed into the hospital like logs. Five days ago they started accepting patients without Health Department Underskin Chips, and about three days ago there wasn’t any staff left to stop people. People just kept coming. Didn’t know what else to do, I suppose. Most are dead now, of course… for the moment.”

“For the moment,” I repeated. I felt like my latent psionic powers were bubbling up. If I just waited a moment or two, I’d be able to set people on fire with my fucking thoughts. This shit was unfair, and I wasn’t going to play along anymore.

“Last I checked, there were three operational in there,” Belling said. “I’m not sure if any others have come online. Avery,” he looked down and made a show of checking his gun as he spoke, “they’re not who they were, anymore. They’re robots, really. Just biological robots. Don’t forget that.”

I looked at him, suddenly feeling burned out, emotionless. I was just feet from putting an end to this, and I was ready to get it done, one way or another. “Monks?” I asked. “Old-school Monks?”

“On the roof, guarding the perimeter,” Belling said immediately. “Kev knows the cops are still out there.”

“Spooks, too,” Lukens drawled.

I looked at her, feeling cold, calm. “What?”

She tapped her ear. “Command’s shifted to Mr. Bendix again,” she said flatly, with her long vowels. “A government hover found our team. Colonel Hense is still field commander, though.” She looked at me for a moment, her round face pink and damp. “No one’s bothered to issue me any new orders, though, so I’m here, ain’t I?”

I nodded, looking back at the doors. “Let’s go.”

As he snapped his gun closed again Belling studied me for a moment before nodding and looking at Marko and Lukens.

“Zeke, keep that hand cannon pointed away from me. Dear, how many rounds do you have for that shredder?”

“Thousand, Grandpa,” Lukens said in her lazy tone, blinking her eyes like a cow, “plus fifty in the deck.”

Belling considered. “Not much. But I assume you’re trained on the weapon and will not waste ammunition. Three reconstitutes in there, guarding the way to our quarry. There were a few dozen incubating corpses, however, and some of them may have ripened.”

I grimaced at the word.

“So there may be several people to get through. These are human bodies. They will bleed and can be crippled, but I don’t think they feel pain, except as a data stream, and from what I’ve seen they have taken human reflexes to the limit of their capabilities.” He paused. “I have seen them do… amazing things.”

Belling looked serious and grim-all bullshit, though; Belling would look however he thought we expected him to look. I could see now why he’d come down to meet me. Cut loose by Kev, he saw his fate in the next room: an animated corpse. And while I had no doubt Wa would be able to handle three or even five of these things in time, time was exactly what he didn’t have, and when he fought his way through he’d still have Kev’s Push to deal with. Belling needed a distraction for Kev. I shrugged and twisted my neck until I was rewarded with a satisfying pop. The old man and I each reached forward and pulled the doors open, stepping aside as Lukens smashed a nova lamp against her thigh and tossed it inside. It skidded along the floor and stopped near the center of the room, its clear white light bringing the whole room into being. It was a big, square room, and looked like a little riot had passed through not too long ago. The ceiling was high, the walls rising up to tall windows that let in light, pipes and ducts snaking around in a complex pattern. It had once been filled with rows of plastic seats bolted into the floor, but most of these had been torn up and strewn about, some still attached to their metal brackets and intact, some broken up into chunks of brightly colored plastic. The Vid screens that had been bolted onto the walls had all been torn down and smashed on the floor, along with big chunks of drywall.

In just about every intact chair sat a corpse. It might have been a goddamn town hall meeting, except for the blood and the huge, concave wounds on people’s chests and necks. Bodies were scattered around the floor, too, some leaning against the walls. All looked as if a huge blood-filled pustule had formed and burst on their chests; some with the perma-grin of a lost lower jaw. Across the room stood a high counter where the staff had once lorded it over the patients, with a solid-looking security door to the left. It was through the door or over the counter. As I stared into the room, trying to memorize the layout and regulate my pained breathing, the nova lamp brightened sharply and then began to flicker on and off rhythmically, throwing the mausoleum into gloom and then painfully bright light. I looked back at Lukens, who blew the loose strand of hair out of her face and spread her hands. No more lamps.

“Well,” Belling said after a moment, “let’s get moving. We should split into two groups.”