The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus Read online

  The Phoenix Fallacy

  Jonathan Sourbeer

  Copyright © Jonathan Sourbeer 2013

  For my parents:

  It would take a thousand authors a thousand lifetimes to describe what you’ve done for me.

  The Phoenix Fallacy

  Is comprised of three books:

  Janus, Norm, and Magnus

  And is also known as:

  The Cog

  Contents

  Prologue: Trash and Treasures

  Book 1: Janus

  Chapter 1: Cerberus

  Chapter 2: The Silver-Haired Man

  Chapter 3: Beyond the Slums

  Chapter 4: Middleton

  Chapter 5: Mercenaries

  Chapter 6: Factories and Fighters

  Chapter 7: The Grey-Haired Man

  Chapter 8: Valhalla

  Chapter 9: Adepts

  Chapter 10: Wouris

  Chapter 11: Introductions

  Chapter 12: Bluebacks

  Chapter 13: Food?

  Chapter 14: The Dove and the Hawkes

  Chapter 15: Weapons

  Chapter 16: The Beacon of Need

  Chapter 17: Brevis Bellum

  Chapter 18: Tidings of War

  Chapter 19: Monsters and Demons

  Chapter 20: Death

  Chapter 21: Lessons

  Chapter 22: The Mission

  Chapter 23: Preparation

  Chapter 24: The Assault

  Chapter 25: Suspicions

  Chapter 26: The Angry Swarm

  Chapter 27: The Beach

  Chapter 28: Those Left Behind

  Chapter 29: Phoenix

  Chapter 30: The Hive

  Chapter 31: The White-Haired Man

  Chapter 32: Parting Gifts

  Chapter 33: Returning

  Chapter 34: Dark Horizons

  Chapter 35: Technique

  Chapter 36: The Blood Poets’ Ceremony

  Chapter 37: Ascension

  Prologue: Trash and Treasures

  Rarely had there been such a feast in the slums.

  Clara sighed happily before approaching the mountainous pile of new trash that had just been dumped into the wastes of Cerberus Corporation. A few trash fires burned here and there, granting a small measure of light to the constant, soft glow from the city above. The highest reaches of the cyclopean buildings that surrounded her were obscured by the smog and smoke that held the slums in an eternal twilight, but the garbage’s origin was clear. She picked her way through the mass, her youthful olive skin a sharp contrast to the longstanding filth and despair that surrounded her.

  First dibs!

  Her bright brown eyes glistened in the dark and her black hair fell to her shoulders, catching the light of the flickering fires despite the dirt and grime that caked her clothes and skin. Wrapping her rags tightly around her, she leapt up the base of the rotting mountain.

  She was filled with satisfaction. The eternal dark of Cerberus’ corporate city seemed just a little less oppressive. Who knew what treasures existed in this bounty? And it was all hers. At least until some of the Rat gangs showed up.

  There was a rustle behind her. She tensed, peering over her shoulder. A figure emerged, clad in tatters and covered in dirt. It eyed her suspiciously. But it was weak and sickly, and so it quickly slunk back into the shadows and disappeared. It would wait until she was finished. Crowds attracted patrols, and friends were few here. Clara trudged her way to the top, wading and shifting as quickly as she could. Her eyes sparkled as she pulled a large hunk of sheet metal from the jumble.

  Heavily rusted, the scrap was nearly as big as she was. Useful metal was rare enough, and the local mechanics would practically kill each other for a scrap this big. She hefted it above her; it wasn’t too heavy to carry. Her eyes widened as she considered the possibilities: she might be able to go to E-level and purchase some real food! Her mouth watered at the thought – a few protein packs all to herself! Perhaps she would even splurge on a flavored variety – Clara had never tasted apple. She didn’t even know what an apple looked like.

  Clara plowed through the mush – she needed to get off the rotting pyramid and sell this treasure before the Rats came along. She was tough and still young enough to fend off some of the single scavengers, but the Rats were nasty. Rats would steal, lie, and kill to get what they wanted. And with the amount of territory they covered, several may have heard the colossal mound plummet into the depths of Cerberus.

  As she scurried towards the bottom, however, there was a soft plunk from above.

  Clara craned her neck back, hoping to catch a glimpse of what had landed in the jumbled waste, but it was useless.

  She bit her lip. Opportunities were not to be missed, but was it better to find something extra – or return with what she had?

  After a moment’s consideration, she placed her treasure carefully out of sight and struggled back to the top, slipping and sliding as she went.

  She was disappointed.

  Nothing remarkable had magically appeared. Or whatever it was had been sucked into the morass. Another noise made her freeze, and she dropped onto all fours. It had sounded like a cough.

  Who’s there? She knew better than to say it aloud.

  The thought of the Rats flashed across her mind and she shivered. After a few tense moments she lifted her head up, peering around. Nothing.

  Her mind was playing tricks on her.

  “Sniff…”

  This time she knew she had heard something. It was to her left, just over the back of the heap. She crept to the edge, where an old machinery press formed a ledge upon the mountain.

  A lip had formed, and Clara peered over it. There was nothing but a bundle of blue blankets. Those might be val— the blanket squirmed and she jolted in surprise.

  It was a baby.

  Clara stared at the tiny child lying in the trash for a few moments before pushing the twinge of pity to the back of her mind and turning her nose up in disgust. She had wasted time, energy, and safety climbing all the way up here.

  But maybe there’s a reward, she argued with herself.

  Clara shook her head, she had seen this kind of deed before – usually when one of the elites wanted to remove evidence of an unacceptable relationship. The mother was hidden away, or became “ill” for several months. And after the baby was born, the child would be quickly and quietly removed.

  But this child wasn’t dead.

  That was amazing in itself, considering the fall. That the babe appeared to be well cared for, despite its predicament, was more intriguing. It couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. But what did she know about babies? With a shake of her head, she grabbed again for the blankets.

  Her hand stopped as she felt a small object trapped within the folds.

  Carefully tugging it free, her hand opened to reveal a jeweled locket in the shape of a bird with tiny lettering that Clara struggled to read:

  To Natalie, From Magnus

  Eternal Love

  Clara frowned at the locket and fumbled to open it. A small clasp held the locket together, and after a moment’s struggle, it popped open, allowing her a glimpse inside. A picture of a woman rested within, carefully painted in deep hues of red, green and brown. She was beautiful. An innocent smile accented her softly angled face, long flowing hair and deep brown eyes.

  As Clara studied the mysterious woman, she realized that the opposite side of the locket also held a picture.

  It was a person – but now the colors splotched together into a mess topped by a blob of white. Pulling the locket ever closer, her finger traced edges on the back, and she flipped the jeweled bird over to find more writing. The engraving, ho
wever, was deeper and rougher, as if scrawled with a small knife:

  may Janus remind you

  Puzzlement reflected on Clara’s face, as she rolled the odd word over in her mind, Janus.

  She did not dwell on it. Her sheet metal treasure waited. Placing the locket around her neck with one last look at the infant, she sighed and left the blankets. Scrambling down the heap, she made her way as fast as the loose and shifting garbage would allow.

  A high pitched whistling echoed around the dark walls surrounding her.

  Clara crouched low, peering upward in a struggle to fathom the dark smog above her. Something was plummeting through the haze. Straight for her.

  She leapt out of its path just before it made a sickening impact on the hard-packed earth at the base of the mountain of garbage. The charred and smoking armor of a former Corporate Security officer lay broken at her feet. Her mouth hung open in wonder, but her eyes reflected no pity.

  Cerberus’ Corporate Security. The enemy of every slummer. Heavily armed and armored, Security Troopers, or S.T.s for short, were a force to reckon with. Their strength-enhancing armor inspired terror, and their Zeus rifles could cut through steel. Seemingly invulnerable, the S.T.s controlled the power structure of the lowest level of the city. Above all else, they demanded absolute respect from the slummers.

  The local sergeant controlling this section of Cerberus was a man named Martel, a particularly nasty specimen of a creature. Any slummer who assaulted one of his patrols would be subject to the strictest of military discipline: death. Even the Rats avoided crossing Martel.

  Clara was not particularly saddened by the loss of one of Cerberus’ finest.

  This trooper’s armor was only identifiable in its shape. Its occupant and markings were burned beyond recognition. But it wasn’t the special modified variant that Martel wore, just standard Cerberus issue.

  She peered into the open visor, wondering what could have happened. But the stench of burning flesh that struck her was nauseating and she was overcome by the need to escape the odor. Backing away, she struggled up the mountain of garbage.

  Her ears perked up to the sound of Carrion Eaters, their engines shrieking as they flew through the alleys.

  Rats!

  She searched for an escape route, scolding herself for her stupidity. A soldier had fallen into the slums in a fiery blaze – she could think of few things that would attract more attention.

  As the whine of their engines intensified, the bile rose in her throat. There was nowhere to go but – up! Her prize forgotten, Clara scrambled upwards. A cry sounded from nearby; the patrol had found the poor creature that had slunk into the dark earlier. New urgency overtook her as she clawed her way up the greasy waste, the whine growing louder until it filled her ears.

  The Carrion Eaters roared as they raced into the clearing, and she tumbled out of sight over the top of the hill.

  She kept quiet, listening as the Rats sped around the small space and then raced off as another cry sounded from afar. Too close.

  A chill ran down her spine and a new thought flooded through her – the baby! If the abandoned child hadn’t stopped her, she would have been running down the very same alley that— she wiped the thought from her mind, but compulsively twisted to her left. The blue blankets peeked over the wrapping of a protein pack. She looked away, shaking her head.

  A whine of engines echoed softly from between the alleys. No.

  But as she stood, the jeweled locket brushed against her chest, and she stared at it for a moment. With a final growl of frustration, she hustled over to the bundled child, scooped him up in her arms, and took off running down the other side of the hill.

  – Book I –

  Janus

  The World Is Changing, Great Executors,

  With the fall of Phoenix Corporation, a vacuum has been created within the Corporate hierarchy. It must be clear that Cerberus is a full contender for dominance. I suggest we make use of our mobile forces to secure additional outposts and territory while our opponents are off balance. Our intelligence indicates that we sustained the least losses during the recent battle. By engaging in selective assaults against our weakest competitors, namely Titan and Hydra, we may obtain new and valuable territory without raising the ire of the surviving Corporations.

  …

  On this note, I must make you aware of the reports of a recent power shift in Titan Corporation’s Executor structure. After the catastrophic disease that swept through Titan, a new player has joined the Executor ranks. He is an unknown, although our reports suggest that he was responsible for the large supplies of Immutium alloy that went missing from Cerberus outposts. Increased efforts must be made to monitor Titan’s power so that it can never again threaten us. I will be devoting a great deal of my time and resources in the coming months trying to learn more of what has transpired there.

  …

  The world is changing, Great Executors – and we must be the ones who change it.

  - Excerpts of a letter from Colonel Victoria Middleton, Intelligence and Affairs, to the Executors, Cerberus Corporation

  Chapter 1: Cerberus

  A young man of about nineteen perched on a lamppost that had pitched over and now leaned perilously against the ruins of a long forgotten building. His hair was a dark brown, contrasting sharply with his sickly pale skin. But his eyes shone bright as he surveyed the scene around him.

  “Janus, get down from there, you’re too visible.”

  He heard Clara’s exasperated sigh behind him. She just wasn’t able to keep up with him anymore. He had grown tall – for a slum dweller, at least. Average, perhaps, for one of upper elite. In the narrow alleys of the slums, the small, quick and lithe had the advantage.

  “In a minute,” Janus replied. “You know we need to find something we can sell for supplies. This is the best way to do it. Besides, the Rats could spot us just as easily on the ground.”

  Every year, the conditions had gotten worse. And now, the slums had fallen on harder times than ever. No one knew why – it just happened. There was little Janus could do about it other than try to keep the pair of them afloat. Every day, they scoured the slums for new treasures. Sometimes they were lucky. Sometimes, like today, they found nothing.

  But the danger was always there. Rats – the scourge of the slums, lurked, waiting for the unaware, or the unfortunate. By scouting ahead, he might just be able to give some warning of an incoming Carrion Eater. Clara still didn’t like him to be the one in danger. If any Rats were to surprise them, he would surely be caught.

  “All right, I’m coming down now, mother…”

  Janus kept his back to Clara, but he knew she would be smiling. He tried to only call her that when he was annoyed or exasperated, but she would never rise to the bait. Although he would never admit it, he knew she enjoyed hearing that word. For all the trouble he gave her, it was the least he could do.

  And although she would never admit it, he knew she was slowing down. Just a bit. She was still smarter and faster than most in the slums. Although she retained her youthful beauty – her black hair still shined, even in the dark of the slums, Janus knew that the day would come when only he could safely venture out. It troubled him. She was the only family he knew. And the only person he cared about in the world.

  He twisted around on the lamppost, catching Clara fiddling with her locket. It was a beautiful jeweled bird, unlike anything he had ever seen, and Clara’s most precious possession. Next to myself, of course, Janus thought with a laugh. But he knew nothing about the necklace. He only caught glimpses of it, when she fiddled with it while worried or distracted. Once, long ago, he had asked her about it, but she had reacted angrily to his queries. She had seemed sorrowful about the incident afterward, but he had assumed it was not for him to know.

  Janus slid down the pole, leaping off and landing lightly on his feet. “Something wrong?”

  She snapped out of her reverie. His face was a combination of worry and concern.
“No, of course not,” Clara smiled.

  “Good.” Janus turned on his heel and weaved his way between the great heaps of garbage, his footsteps muted by the mush. He could hear her follow closely behind, and called back softly, “These piles have nothing; they’ve already been stripped bare.”

  It was not unexpected. It didn’t take long for any new dump to be picked clean. He stopped at a new pile, waiting for her to catch up. As Clara came around the corner, she glanced at the sky. The last vestiges of light were disappearing from the murky haze above. “We should probably get back - soon it will be too dark to find much of anything and the Rats will be out.”

  Janus scowled, “Who cares? They’re idiots. We can outsmart them.”

  “They’re still vicious and ignoring them won’t help you get out of a situation.”

  “That doesn’t change what they are.”

  Clara sighed unhappily, “Let’s just get back safely; then we can argue without fear of being caught.”

  Janus frowned, “Fine.”

  They moved as silently as they could, sticking to the edges of the heaps, and held their breath whenever they heard the familiar whirrrr of a Carrion Eater.

  A crumbled and sagging structure of wood and concrete was their beacon of safety. Snaking their way inside, the pair emerged into an ancient and decaying lobby. Letting his eyes adjust to the gloom, he could see the crumbled moulding, broken tile, and familiar wrecked elevator wreathed in snapped cables that forever greeted them. He quietly passed an ancient wooden desk where the remnants of a cracked brass plaque too worn to read hung on a wall. The hollow and hole-filled walls whistled with the hot winds of the slums. An ancient stairway, piled in the broken remnants of the ceiling above, protested grimly as he leapt along.