Extensis Vitae

Chapter 3



If the lobby was well appointed, then Swanson’s office could be described as luxurious. Full bookshelves lined the walls. A massive oak desk with a couple chairs placed before it dominated the center of the room.

A large picture window that Reznik suspected was another projection took up the far wall. Bright natural light poured into the room from the picturesque view of a lake surrounded by the well-tended grounds of what could have been a country club. The projection was realistic enough that had there been a door, it looked as if one would have been able to step right out into the scene.

Swanson was seated in a leather executive chair, shuffling through some papers on the desk. “ADMINISTRATOR MALCOLM T. SWANSON,” a plaque on the desk proclaimed.

As if he had just noticed their arrival, Swanson looked up and beamed. “Ah, there you are! I hope the accommodations are to your liking?” He stood and extended his hand.

“Yes sir, they are fine,” Reznik replied, shaking the administrator’s hand. Swanson’s grip was limp, and his skin clammy. Reznik ignored the urge to wipe his hand on his pants.

“Shall I wait outside, Mr. Swanson?” Myrna asked.

“No, my dear. I don’t think we will require your services anymore for the time being. Thank you,” he said in obvious dismissal.

Myrna caught Reznik’s eye as she turned and left. He wasn’t sure, but her glance seemed to be a cautionary one. A guard closed the door behind her and the two posted themselves at either side of the door.

“Please have a seat, my friend,” Swanson invited, gesturing to one of the chairs. He eased his bulk back into his chair. “I imagine you have quite a few questions. All will be answered in good time. I must confess, the deal that I am forced to offer you might not seem like much of a deal at all, but I’m hoping you are the selfless type that will accept.”

“I suppose that depends on the deal,” Reznik offered. “Can you please start by telling me where we are? What is this place?”

Swanson leaned back in his chair. “This facility is simply called Colony 12. It was established by the Extensis Vitae Corporation as a self-contained, self-sufficient facility impervious to the outside world. Whatever catastrophes and savagery and immorality go on in the outside world cannot affect us in here. This is a facility for those of us who are waiting for the opportunity to rebuild our society. We have some of the finest minds here—scientists, engineers, teachers—”

“But not doctors,” Reznik added.

“Very astute observation. You are correct. Therein lies part of our problem. Dr. Landers tragically passed away about a year ago from a stroke. And our other physician, Dr. Kane, whose daughter Myrna you’ve already met, has gone missing.”

“And what does this have to do with me, sir?”

“Well, we believe you might have the skill set we need to deal with our problem. Let us see here…” He rummaged through a sheaf of papers on his desk. “Master Sergeant Michael Reznik, United States Army. Weapons Sergeant, most recently assigned to the Joint Special Operations Command. Highly decorated, military honors include the Distinguished Service Cross, Bronze Star, four Purple Hearts. Specialist in counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, air assault, etc. A regular John Wayne type, eh? That’s you, right?”

Reznik listened to the laundry list and it began sounding familiar to him. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, as I mentioned before, someone with your skill set can be very useful to us in our present circumstances. You see, we are a peaceful society here, and violence has no place in Colony 12—or any of the Colonies, for that matter. Thus, when an extremely unique situation of potential hostility arises, like this one, we are unfortunately a bit ill-equipped to deal with such things.”

“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the current situation that you want me to deal with? Something involving your missing doctor, I assume?” Reznik’s mind was racing trying to figure out what was going on. He still had no idea how he had gotten involved in this situation. He didn’t know what type of community this facility was, whether it was a cult or something else. “Am I in some type of sim? Where’s the military liaison?” he added before Swanson had the chance to reply.

“‘Sim?’” Swanson looked blank.

“Simulation.”

“No, I assure you this is very real. We do not have any association with the military you are familiar with. We have lost contact with our sister facility, Colony 13. Usually we have regular communication with them and some trade, as well. After a prolonged period without communication, I dispatched a security detail along with Dr. Kane, in case there was some sort of medical emergency. We figured our sister colony might have lost reactor power or had a disease outbreak or something of the sort. We lost contact with our team also, and haven’t heard anything since.”

“How long have communications been down? When did you send the team? How many men, and how were they armed?”

Swanson nodded as if pleased with how quickly Reznik was taking stock of the situation. “They failed to answer our radio calls about two weeks ago. Ten days ago, their supply specialist didn’t show up to trade supplies as he was scheduled to. And five days ago I dispatched our security detail. Eight men like the guards here,” he said, gesturing to the two by the door. “They were wearing their standard equipment and armed with their batons. The team carried Bio-Rad suits in case they were needed. A couple of the officers even carried immobilizers—right, Officer Cole?”

The larger of the two guards spoke up. “Correct, sir.”

“What’s an immobilizer?” Reznik asked.

Swanson gestured to Cole, and the guard answered. “It’s an aluminum tube approximately one meter in length that fires a projectile net that ensnares the target.”

“And that’s it? They went into a potentially hazardous situation without any type of lethal weapons?”

“Mr. Reznik, we don’t deal with violence on anything even approaching the level that you are familiar with. My men aren’t trained for that. And besides, these are hardened facilities we are talking about. It would take an organized army to breach one of the Colonies, and I assure you, there is no such force around with that capability or intent. Or so we thought, anyway. So you can probably see why we were a bit unprepared for what happened.”

“And what happened? What makes you believe that someone with my skills is needed? Maybe they had an accident and their way back got cut off. Like you said, there could have been a disease outbreak or something.”

“Because of this,” Swanson replied. He pushed a tablet computer across the desk and tapped the side of the unit. A video began to play.

Reznik watched what looked like the feed from a helmet camera on one of the guards. The group was walking down a long underground tunnel with intermittently spaced lights. When the guard turned his head, Reznik could see how large the tunnel was. You could probably even drive a Humvee through there, he thought.

A couple of the guards were speculating as to what they thought they would find ahead. An older man with graying hair and a beard walked behind them, carrying a satchel over his shoulder. That would be the doctor, then, he thought. All of them appeared to be oblivious to any possible danger ahead.

After a couple of uneventful minutes, there was a high-pitched beep from somewhere. The guards stopped in confusion, and then there was an explosion. Anti-personnel mine of some type, Reznik knew. The image turned to static for a minute or so.

When the video feed cleared again, he could see bodies on the ground amidst the smoke. The guard wearing the camera was down, and his camera was tilted sideways at ground level. He could hear groans and cries of pain, but it was unclear how many were still alive.

After a few moments, he could hear voices approaching. Footsteps became audible.

“What have we here?” asked a guttural voice. “Ah, looks like the cavalry has finally come!”

A booted foot entered the frame, and then the tip of what appeared to be a machete. “No, no! Oh my God! Stop! Who the hell are you?” a voice cried in terror. The foot stepped out of the frame, and Reznik heard the wet thump of a blade chopping into meat. A few beads of blood spattered onto the lens, and he could hear sounds of a struggle off camera.

Now he could see other figures in the picture as the ambushers moved amongst the party, quickly finishing them off with knives and cudgels. One attacker kicked at the head of a downed guard until his helmet came loose. He then swung an ugly cudgel like a golf club and split the man’s skull open. He knelt down by his victim, and Reznik was able to see the wiry man, who was covered in tattoos and wearing a leather vest. He had spikes through his earlobes and a shaved head. The man started going through the guard’s pockets and pack.

“Hey, this one looks like a doctor or somethin’,” a different voice said. “There’s a bunch of medical shit in his bag. Haze, what you think about this one?”

“Interesting. He might be of use to us. You didn’t kill him, did you?” the guttural voice asked.

“Not yet. I was about to, but saw this nifty bag he had. Want me to?” There was eagerness in the voice.

“No. We’ll hold on to this one. We can question him, and if I like his answers, maybe we’ll keep him alive and put him to work.”

The man with the cudgel had found the camera. He squinted at it. An ugly scar ran from the corner of his mouth back to his ear. “Haze, look at this!” he shouted, spinning the camera around.

The one that was apparently Haze came toward the camera. He looked like a coked-out rock star. He wore a mohawk that was dyed blood-red and had a pointed goatee. His bare arms were covered in tattooed sleeves. The face was hard and merciless—the face of a killer. Reznik had seen his fair share of faces like that.

“Well, fellas, we seem to have an audience here. Wonder if anyone else wants to come out and play with us?” He laughed; it was an ugly sound that grated on the nerves.

Haze brought the camera up close to his face. “Listen to me, fools,” he growled. The killer’s teeth were brown and crooked. “Maybe I’ll pay your little hive a visit next and crack it open and suck out all the honey. Just like I did to this one!” He laughed again, then he closed his hand around the camera and it died.

Swanson sat in silence, watching Reznik. The administrator was scowling in outrage.

Reznik knew this was much more serious than what he had been led to believe. “Does Myrna know about this video?”

“No. Nobody except myself and some of my security team know about this. All she and the rest of the people here know is that the team hasn’t been heard from since they left.”

That was a small blessing at least, he thought. Myrna would probably be in much worse shape if she’d seen that gruesome video. “What do you have in your armory?”

The administrator regarded him for a moment. “That’s the problem. We don’t have an armory other than the non-lethal types of weapons we’ve already talked about. Firearms and other dangerous weapons were banned from the Colonies when the residents were admitted. Even if we did have lethal weapons, my personnel aren’t trained to use them.”

“Well, the training isn’t the issue; the lack of weapons is. What is the strength of your security detachment?”

“I have only a dozen left to keep order in this facility after losing the eight that you witnessed. We haven’t mounted another search down in the tunnel because I can’t afford to lose any more men. Quite frankly, my men aren’t equipped to handle the type of maniacs you saw on that video.”

Reznik realized how hopeless this might be. “So you brought me here so I could go down blind into an unfamiliar area, take out an enemy force of unknown size, and rescue any hostages by myself? We have no idea how many booby traps the place may be wired with, or what these individuals are armed with, other than machetes and cudgels. And to top it all off, we have no weapons.” He had raised his voice in frustration, but he couldn’t help it. These people were totally incapable of dealing with this situation, and more than a little incompetent, as well. “I hope you’ve at least secured whatever gates or doors lie between here and there.” He gestured at the dark screen on the tablet computer.

“I have men posted at the lower vault door around the clock, as well as video surveillance in the tunnel. Nobody is getting in here without us knowing about it. I have confidence that your combat skills will be more than enough to handle a few savages with clubs and knives, my friend,” Swanson said with the easy tone of a career politician. “You’re welcome to whatever supplies you might need here, and I believe Myrna has a surprise to show you that will certainly give you an edge.” He leaned back in his chair, hands folded across his belly, with a look on his face like he had already convinced himself.

Reznik took a deep breath. “Well, I can clearly see how you will benefit from this, but I fail to see the benefit in it for me. I think you mentioned a deal to be made?”

Swanson sighed. “As I mentioned before, Mr. Reznik, there’s not a whole lot we can offer you, I’m afraid. We are a simple people, and money and rewards are meaningless here. I got the impression from your file that you weren’t the mercenary type. We did revive you from your previous…state…which I’m sure you are thankful for. I can also help get you started on your way, wherever that might be, once our business is concluded.”

Reznik snorted. “That’s no deal at all—more like a suicide mission. My answer is no.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I really wish you’d reconsider.”

“No.” Reznik stood up. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in a suicide mission. I have somewhere I need to be—I need to go and find my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” Swanson looked incredulous. “My friend, where do you think you will go? Where do you think this fiancée of yours is?”

“She lives in Denver.”

“I’m sorry to break this to you, but there is no Denver. There is no U.S.A. anymore. Your fiancée is long gone, I’m afraid. There’s nothing outside of this Colony and the twelve others like it!”

“Bullshit. I’m done with this f*cking game. I’m tired of getting jerked around, and I want to be let out of here.” Reznik’s anger came boiling up, and he didn’t bother to try to get it under control again. He was sick of getting half-answers and the constant runaround. “I’m done here.”

Without waiting for a response, Reznik rose and headed for the door. The pair of security guards made no move to get out of the way. Not caring, Reznik strode up to the door and reached for the handle.

One of the guards grabbed his arm, but Reznik shrugged him off. “Let me go.” He reached for the handle again.

“Back off!” Officer Cole bellowed, and reached for him, as well. Reznik drove an elbow into the first guard’s exposed ribs. As he bent over from the blow, Reznik twisted his arm up behind his back. He then kicked the man in the back of the knee and sent him sprawling face-first to the floor.

“Subdue him!” Swanson shouted. “Security!”

Reznik was already pivoting as Cole tried to grab him. He knocked the guard’s hand away and drove the heel of his hand into the visor of his helmet. Cole stumbled back a step. Reznik was about to follow it up when the door burst open, clipping Reznik in the shoulder. He stumbled off balance for a couple steps as two more guards rushed him.

Swanson must have had them prepositioned out there in case of trouble, he thought.

Reznik regained his balance and spun around, delivering a roundhouse kick to the chest of the closest guard. The guard fell back into the man behind him and they bumped up against the wall. Reznik turned in time to see Cole coming back at him with his riot baton drawn. Reznik blocked his swing and punched him in the stomach. Cole’s vest absorbed most of the impact, but he reflexively doubled over. Reznik twisted and grabbed Cole around the neck and flipped him over his shoulder and to the ground. His other hand snatched the riot baton from Cole’s hand.

He was on the other two in a flash, baton cracking across the next guard’s helmet. He swung down and hit the man in the knee and shoved him away. The guard fell to the floor clutching his knee. The last guard had his baton out and swung at Reznik. He parried and pushed the man back. As he did that, his hand inadvertently triggered a button on the handle of the baton and a blue arc of electricity flared at the end.

Nice, he thought. He pressed the last guard, blocking his strike, feinting, and then landed a blow to the man’s upper arm, triggering the electrical pulse in the process. As the electricity crackled, the man shuddered and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Reznik was dimly aware of an alarm going off somewhere. Cole was almost back on his feet, so Reznik gave him some of the juice, as well. He crumpled.

Turning back to the door, he saw four more security guards come racing through the sliding doors of the lobby. He steeled himself to make a charge at them, figuring they wouldn’t expect that.

“Hold it right there, Mr. Reznik!” Swanson’s voice cracked like a whip. The command in his voice made Reznik heed his warning. He turned and saw the administrator about ten feet away with a snub-nose revolver leveled at him.

“What happened to the rule about no firearms allowed in this facility?” Reznik asked sarcastically.

Swanson shrugged. “The rules don’t apply to me. I am the law here.”

And then one of the electrical pulses zapped his calf, and Reznik dropped his baton as his muscles contorted involuntarily. A second charge put him on the floor. Several more shocks followed and blackness closed in.

“Get him out of here,” came Swanson’s distant voice, and then there was darkness.