E.N.D.A.Y.S., Page 2

  There had been a movie released every year for the past five decades celebrating and lauding the actions of the ISSC. The agency was held up as an ideal of what one should be willing to do for the government, but their agents were never mentioned by name, their faces never seen. This was why reverence was the reaction from three ISSC agents standing right in front of the guards. Each hoped that if they showed the correct amount of respect and dedication to their job, perhaps they might be cherry-picked for induction. Of course, there was no chance of that happening, but that didn't mean Hayes wouldn't fuck with them whilst they scanned the barcode on the invitation.

  “Nice scan y'did there.” he told the guard, with a smile. “Nice technique. Y'ever think of applying?”

  The guard didn't know how to react. His hand started quivering, invitation flapping, fanning Hayes. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet those of the imposter ISSC agent's. “I've… always dreamed of it, sir...”

  “Well, y'should come by the office tomorrow, we'll see about training you up, getting you field-rated maybe?” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “Really sir? You'd to that for me?”

  “I'm never wrong 'bout these things. Can read a person like a book.”

  “A book, sir?” the guard said. “What's a book?”

  Hayes took a moment, half-remembering something in the briefing about this mundane world never having perfected the binding process. Books had never been produced, let alone mass-produced. Stories were printed on scrolls, held vertically and rolled from bottom to top, like a town crier might read news of the day to the people of a village.

  “I've said too much.” Hayes said, in a hushed tone, his eyes wide, scanning back and forth at the people around. “Come to me tomorrow, and all will be revealed...” he trailed off as he took his invitation and ID back from the confused guard, and followed Shay and McCall into the grand entrance of the building.

  The President's residence was built as though the title was akin to 'emperor' or 'king'. Even in realities that knew such rulers, the décor and architecture would still be viewed as excessive for what essentially boiled down to an elected position. In most realities that allowed voting, the highest official had no need for a quarter-mile of corridor with a mosaic floor handmade from the most precious stones in the realm. Nor would they have ceilings fifty foot tall, cross vaulted arches every twenty feet held aloft by giant marble pillars that looked to Hayes as though they were the average circumference of a citizen of 1141 (which he insisted on calling 'the fatty fat fat world of the fattiest fat fatties').

  After five minutes traversing the corridor, they came to the grand ballroom, which was named so because it was both a ballroom and grand. The residents of this reality were well known for their literal naming. The capital city of the largest continent has a park at its centre, which was named Central Park. In that park is a large ornate fountain designed by a man named Trevor, known by all as Trevor's Fountain. There is a large lizard in 0455 that is mass-reared entirely for its delicious flesh, it is called a meatasaurus.

  The three agents spread out across the ballroom, maintaining communication with one another and Kali, on the lookout for anything suspicious. Whether there was any actual threat was another matter entirely. The protectoral agreement dictated that the government were able to ask for Division assistance when they believed an inter-dimensional incident might occur. The President believed that this entitled him to Division agents whenever he had the whim for an extra layer of security.

  Shay climbed a spiral staircase to a balcony that looked out over the room, beginning a full visual sweep for hostile mannerisms. McCall inspected the passes and identification of each of the security staff on hand. They were the only ones present with weapons, and as some of the lowest paid people in the square mile of the Presidential estate, were also the most corruptible. Hayes' first inclination was to go straight to the buffet to investigate for potential contamination, but en route he decided that a glass of champagne was more suspicious. He sipped at it to confirm it wasn't poisoned, then took another sip, and another, firmly believing that you can never be too sure with these things. After the flute was empty, he reached for a fresh one from a different server, in case they might be the potential threat.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Shay asked over the comm, as she spotted Hayes downing his third glass.

  “Just making sure these ain't poisoned.” he said, loud enough for guests around him to hear. He smiled politely and reached across them for a fourth glass.

  “God, have you even activated toxin scrubbing?” she spat back at him.

  “Yeah...” he lied. “Sure I have.”

  In his lens, he pulled up the nano controls and asked them nicely to run through his digestive tract, to identify and then dispose of any potentially harmful chemicals.

  “So fucking dumb...” she said, heading back down the stairs. “I don't see anything up here. Looks like a waste of our time.”

  'Probably is,' said Kali. 'But we've got orders. Hayes, get on viewpoint analysis. Shay, take over from Dumbshit on the catering?'

  “Dumbshit? Is McCall on catering too?” Hayes asked, not aware that he had been codenamed 'Dumbshit' by all of the Division's operators.

  After shaking off a further squeal of feedback bouncing back and forth on the underside of his skull, he made his way to the window and activated a lens survey of the buildings with direct line of sight to the podium. McCall had been through all the security staff, running their IDs against a facial recog database the government provided for them. He also had unfettered access to each of the staff's banking records, which were checked for unusual payments. They were all clean, and he started making a sweep of the catering staff, passing Shay, who was in the midst of a deeper analysis of refreshments than Hayes's alcohol-focused investigation. The buffet was clear, and she sipped at a white wine, washing it around her mouth as nanos crawled out of oral crevices to inspect for toxins. There were none present, but as she swallowed, the texture left on her tongue didn't feel right.

  “Hayes, did you pick up on the after taste?”

  He didn't reply. Whilst scanning the windows, he had come across a yoga studio in which lithe, young women were stretching and contorting their bodies into elegant knots.

  “Hayes!” she said again, sternly. “Bitter twang and sludge left coating your tongue, did you notice it?”

  “Yeah...” he said, absent-mindedly, watching the skinny, large-breasted yoga instructor bending over, his lens zooming into her deep cleavage.

  A jolt of static reverberated through his skull. Kali had caught sight of his lens feed, and was also enjoying the view, until she remembered it was compromising the mission.

  “Fuck Ow! No I didn't notice it.” he said, once again loud enough for the guests around him to think he was talking to them.

  'Speak softer.' Kali instructed. 'Maybe get a dictionary sometime and look up the meaning of the word covert.'

  “This is the cheap shit.” Shay said. “The President wouldn't be seen dead drinking it. He'll have his own private stash...” she started looking around for where that might be.

  “In his chambers, I reckon.” McCall said, handing an ID back to a waiter and moving to the next server.

  “En route.” Shay said, shifting through the crowd towards the podium. There was a door to the right, behind it, from which the President was due to emerge.

  “Yeah... I'll be right with you.” Hayes said, his eyes searching the buildings, trying to find the yoga studio again.

  'Now.' Kali instructed, digging into his nano controls with the gesture unit.

  Hayes felt a rumble in his stomach. He zoomed the lens out and glanced down to his belly. Gas was building. His bowels were becoming heavy, full.

  “Oh no you didn't...” he said, as an explosive belch emerged from his anal cavity.

  'Get to work, or next time you shit yourself.' Kali commanded.

  “God, it's always work, work, work wit
h you people, isn't it...” he said, as he smiled politely and awkwardly at the guests in the vicinity of his gaseous detonation, before making his way across the room.

  Shay flashed her identification to the security staff on the door and entered. The chamber's walls were covered in paintings of the President and his ancestors. Every one of his forefathers for the past twenty generations had been President before him, with only the occasional interloper taking the position for a term. Even then, they tended to meet an untimely end before that term concluded. It wasn't that the government was corrupt, as such, it was more that the current President's family were very good at leading the country, and very good at not being killed whilst doing so. Shay checked the IDs of the security staff nestled away in the President's private chamber. They were all who they claimed to be, and all passed the bank account screening.

  “This is really looking like a waste of time...” she said.

  “I could'a told you that from the beginning.” Hayes said, as he walked up to the security staff at the door to the chamber.

  “Job still needs t'be done.” McCall said, taking a glass of champagne from a waiter. “Can't have a protectoral world going to shit because we're too busy to take a look-see.”

  Hayes looked over his shoulder at McCall, watching as he took a sip.

  “Kali, how come he's allowed to drink?”

  'Because he isn't an a functioning alcoholic and an over-functioning arsehole.' she replied.

  “See, it's the functioning part you people keep overlooking...” Hayes said, waiting impatiently at the door to the chamber. “What's the hold-up?” he asked the secret service agent, who had a finger to his earpiece.

  “President's about to come out, sir.” he said. “Please stand back.”

  Hayes did so, as a fanfare of trumpets burst from speakers behind the podium, half-deafening him as they signalled the President's imminent arrival to greet his esteemed guests. The secret service agent held the door open as his leader emerged. A beaming smile fixed on his face, contorted leathery skin crawling up his cheeks in undulating folds that nestled up to crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The lines of a man who had smiled hard every day a camera was on him, every day of his career as a politician. He walked up the stairs to the podium as the horns came to a crescendo. His eyes fixed at middle distance, reading from an autocue that hovered on either side of the podium, allowing him to look from left to right meaningfully, whilst reading a thoroughly crafted speech.

  Hayes zoned out of the speech and hung back at the side of the stage, Shay joining him with a glass of champagne she swiped from the President's chamber.

  “That the good stuff?” he asked.

  “All tastes the same... grapes must be for shit here.” she said, with a huff.

  “So what d'we do now, Kali?” McCall asked. “Stick around 'til this guy slinks back into his room?”

  Kali didn't respond.

  “Kali? Everything ok?” he asked.

  'Something's not right...' she said, eyes at the screens, alerts starting to pop up over Shay's vitals. 'Shay, are you ok?'

  Shay couldn't form words to reply. Her brow was thick with sweat, face ruddy, her throat starting to seize up. Hayes turned to her as the champagne flute slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

  “What's up? You choking?” he asked.

  She struggled for breath, only able to force stray inharmonious squawks through her throat. Hayes slipped behind her, trying to lodge the obstruction with abdominal thrusts, his hands cupping a breast in the process. She threw an elbow into his face that would have detached a retina if she were not otherwise indisposed.

  “I was only trying to help...” he said, as she glared at him with a subtext of 'do it properly'.

  He put his arms back around her, placing his hands at the correct position under the base of her diaphragm, and thrust upwards.

  'Guys, this isn't right...' said Kali, as he thrust again. 'Her nano's are fighting something,' another thrust, the obstruction still wasn't clearing. 'It looks like... another set of nanos...' Another thrust, still not helping, the colour starting to drain from Shay's face. 'They're not as advanced as ours... but they're there, and they're taking up residency in her head,'

  “So, I should just give up with this or what?” asked Hayes, through another thrust at Shay's abdomen.

  'Their nanos and ours are reaching an impasse at her throat, fighting it out there...'

  “That's not an answer!” McCall said, fighting his way through the crowd towards the others, the guests barely paying attention to the theatrics adjacent to the President's address, rapt by his speech.

  “I really don't think I'm making much difference here,” said Hayes. “Although it is nice to be this close to you...” he said to Shay, who rolled her eyes amidst trying to find her next breath.

  “She's still alive, so keep going, y'ass!” McCall said, closing in on them. “I'll trach her if I have to, but y'got to keep her alive 'til I get through these fuckers.”

  “Alright, I'll just keep thrusting and thrusting. That's how y'like it, right Shay?” he said, with another thrust. “Nice and deep.” another thrust. “Slow and steady, huh?”

  Shay's eyes went wide. She could feel the nanos in her head, scuttling through her blood vessels, battling one another for supremacy.

  “Harder and harder,” Hayes continued, with another thrust. “Deeper and deeper,” and another.

  Shay's lips began to quiver uncontrollably, followed by her teeth chattering, a shiver running up and down her body. Her forehead was rippling, skull feeling like it was turning to jelly as a pounding in her head started getting louder and louder.

  “I'll just keep going and going...” said Hayes, with another thrust. “Til I blow your back doors off.” another thrust.

  Shay's head burst into a fountain of blood and grey matter, caking the walls, splattering across the floor, showering Hayes in her cranial effluence. He looked down at the hole on her shoulders where her neck and head used to be, eyes shining white under a mask of blood and brain.

  “Well, I did not see that coming...” he said, as he dropped her decapitated body.

  The security staff started flocking from all corners of the room, McCall fighting through them and the guests to get to Hayes. The President glanced over briefly, checking the monitor at the podium to confirm that none of the spectacle was seen by the cameras. It appeared clear, and he was moments from finishing his speech, taking a glass of champagne from beneath the podium, raising it for a toast.

  'What the fuck just happened?' Kali asked.

  Hayes looked at the remnants of the champagne flute that lay on the floor surrounded by Shay's body.

  “Kali, you said nanos, right?”

  'What?'

  “Nanos fucked with Shay's shit, right? They could be edible, time-released, yeah?”

  'Maybe? I'd need time to analyse them.'

  “No time.” said Hayes, as four security staff pounced on him. He redirected strength, and threw them aside as he made his way up to the podium. Another agent grabbed Hayes from behind, McCall dove in and tackled him out the way.

  The crowd watched in silence as the President toasted them and drank the champagne, aghast at the spectacle they finally noticed was occurring just off-stage. Further security tried to interject with the supposed ISSC agents, Hayes and McCall dealing with them accordingly.

  Hayes took to the stage and grabbed the President by the tie.

  “Did you just fucking drink that?” he asked.

  “Do you mind?” said the President. “This is an address to the nation!”

  “Do you want to address the nation as a headless corpse?” Hayes asked, tightening his grip and tugging again on the President's tie. “Did you fucking drink it?”

  “Yes, of course...” said the President. “This is a celebration.!”

  “Yeah? Well they're gonna be celebrating your head exploding any minute now...”

  “Wha--?” asked the Pres
ident, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his throat beginning to close.

  Hayes looked back at McCall, who was fighting to keep the secret service agents back.

  “Well you're no fucking help...” he said to him. “Kali, what can I do to stop this guy exploding?”

  “ess-plodi--?!” the President said, his throat not allowing the words through.

  'Fuck, Hayes, I don't know enough about what they dosed him with... can you make him throw up?'

  Hayes looked at the President, pulling his head lower by his tie and shoved two fingers down the esteemed leader's throat. He hit a solid mass, and couldn't get a gag reflex to respond.

  “Ain't working.” he said.

  'You need something longer. Look around, there's got to be something...'

  Hayes looked, but the only other instruments nearby were the jagged remains of a champagne flute, which was a little too stabby. And flagpoles, which were wider than the President's mouth, let alone his throat. He looked down to his hip.

  “I've got a really bad idea...” he said.

  'Hurry up,' said Kali. 'Shay had five minutes because she had nanos fighting back. This guy won't have anywhere near as much time!'

  Hayes reached to his left hip, and pulled a gun from the pocket dimension holster. The weapon was matte black, textured with micropores that made for a snug and comfortable fit in the hand. It was all curves, no hard edges or corners, even the body curved when looked at head-on. Ergonomic, for the executive shooter, who had a penchant for wearing oversized black brass knuckles that could punch holes in people from afar. The barrel was eight inches long and five tall, but most of that height was the clip, which looped around under the muzzle, nestling up to the trigger guard. It left just enough space for a hand to fit, then went all the way back under the grip. Each clip held eighty rounds, a mag of twenty hollow point, fifteen explosive tips, and six ten-round mags of tasershot. None of those were helpful right now. Hayes wrenched the clip from the gun and dropped in back in the pocket, pointing the barrel at the President.