"Open it!" the captain commanded, his voice buzzing through his gas mask to his soldiers. The privates quickly moved towards the monumental gates of the "Mendeleev" complex. With actions honed to automaticity in training, they unscrewed the limiting bolts, each one as long as an adult man's forearm. As soon as the last chrome rod left its place, the captain flashed his flashlight, giving the order to open.
The sergeant, sitting in the control booth of the checkpoint, dressed in chemical protection like everyone else, saw the light glinting through the gas mask lenses, nodded, though he couldn't be seen in the dark, pressing the power supply button while simultaneously turning the shift supervisor's key.
Nestled among the rock formations and towering many stories high, shining in good weather with its famous glass galleries for many kilometers, the complex had extensive underground levels, going many floors into the rock. Due to the close cooperation between "Mendeleev" and the "Vavilov" and "Pavlov" complexes, the builders and engineers had to undertake such large-scale underground work. The cause was the swamps separating the territories of the facilities, which could not be drained to establish a drainage system, thus ruling out the laying of a maglev or classic railway line to the complex.
It was decided to lay a tunnel, expanding the underground mainlines of the Enterprise, which was also not easy and led to the solution of engineering and design problems, but the experience gained was later used in the construction of the metro in Leningrad and facilitated the laying of some lines in Moscow.
Later, successful construction began in Nizhny Novgorod, Kazan, Rostov-on-Don, and Krasnoyarsk using the acquired experience. The tunnel system construction was completed: "Kyiv–Kharkiv–Minsk–Leningrad–Moscow–Kazan–Gorky–Sverdlovsk–Omsk–Novosibirsk–Krasnoyarsk–Irkutsk–Chita–Khabarovsk–Vladivostok." Later, they planned to begin construction of the European segment and negotiations were already underway with the Chinese and Japanese governments for the Asian segment. The African segment existed only in projects for now.
Two hours ago, the Enterprise management decided to lift the quarantine from "Mendeleev," which had been imposed due to possible chemical leaks. Security forces descended into the underground transport network, beginning its cleanup. It was necessary to completely secure the mainlines to begin restoration work on the "Vavilov–Pavlov" section, as well as to check the reagent warehouse and the chemical storage facility.
The lifting of the quarantine began from the mainline side precisely for this purpose. If the chemicals had entered the transport network, complete decontamination of the facility would have been required.
The electric motors of the lock started working. Mechanisms hidden behind meters of steel and concrete began to move, removing one hidden bolt after another. Slowly and majestically, the four-meter-thick hermetic door moved down, almost silently, smoothly descending on hydraulics with a barely audible hiss. As soon as the complex's hermetic seal was broken, a slight pop was heard, indicating pressure equalization. With a slight delay, air began to be pumped into the underground floors by the facility's ventilation system. With a hum, a stream of freshness with notes of a recent thunderstorm spread through the complex.
The soldiers, clad in chemical protection, felt only a slight jolt and the movement of the rubberized material of their gear. In the light of their body and hand-held lamps, the complex gates moved into their designated places, entering the groove and restoring the integrity of the railway track.
With a click, the automation shut off, plunging the tunnel into silence, broken only by the breathing of the security soldiers. Aiming their weapons towards the entrance and having dispersed, the soldiers relaxed. The tension disappeared from the figures clad in chemical protection.
The detachment commander checked the motion sensor readings while the privates measured the air composition with gas analyzers to the alarming crackle of dosimeters, which was almost deafening in the silence. Glancing again through the night vision device, and receiving confirmation of clean air, the captain gave the order:
"Enter."
Immediately, the reconnaissance group broke from its position, disappearing into the thickened darkness of the complex. Leaving behind chemical glow sticks to mark their path, the soldiers reached the cargo platform by leaps and bounds, densely packed with boxes of raw materials for the laboratories.
After a hundred drills, the reconnaissance squad knew exactly what to do. Navigating almost by touch, the soldiers created a security perimeter, and only after that did they give the order for the main group to advance.
A minute later, the entire liquidation detachment occupied the platform. Leaving part of the personnel to clear space for the civilian liquidation specialists' equipment, the captain ordered them to advance into the depths of the cargo terminal.
As soon as the forward group shifted and illuminated the main space of the terminal, the security unit immediately went into combat readiness. The light of the lanterns tore from the darkness what could not possibly be there: a human body impaled on some kind of spike.
"Stop," the senior officer commanded, halting the unit's movement. "Lisov, Prokopenko. Examine and take samples."
Knowing that the complex had been evacuated routinely and without losses, the captain knew perfectly well that there should be no bodies here. The rebellious robots in the complex had been disabled by the remaining controlled machines. And certainly, there were no unauthorized personnel in "Mendeleev." Such a thing is impossible by definition at a classified facility. The body clearly belonged to someone who was not an employee of the complex.
"Captain. There are over a hundred of them, at a rough estimate," a private drew the commander's attention, sweeping the room with his flashlight.
"Chatter!" the officer reprimanded the soldier, thinking at the same time. Realizing that nothing was clear, he decided not to risk it. "We're retreating to the platform after taking samples."
Then events began to unfold rapidly. As soon as the soldiers touched the man's body, after examining it for booby traps and other surprises, the corpse sagged on the spike. All weapons were instantly aimed at the sudden movement, and the privates dispersed to better cover the firing sector. But the sharp movements of the people awakened the predators.
The body twitched. The dead man's hand shot up. His fingers dug into the soldier's throat. A crunch. The scream was cut short, turning into a hoarse gurgle. Blood spurted in a fountain in the light of the dropped flashlight.
The murdered man's partner rolled out of the line of fire to aim at the living dead himself and open fire, shattering the dead head with a bullet.
Dozens of bodies fell from the spikes like overripe fruit. Bony fingers scratched the concrete, mouths stretched into silent screams.
The living corpses twisted as if pulled by invisible strings. Bones cracked, joints dislocated unnaturally.
Suddenly, it was as if the bodies were yanked upwards, as if hung from a gallows. The crunch of bones became deafening as the reanimated dead stood on their feet. Faces contorted by death turned as one towards the living. In the light of the lanterns, eyes gleamed, glowing with a purple light.
One of the reanimated took a step, extending a hand twisted by rigor towards the soldiers. Its fingers curled as if breaking anew, and its jaw hung too low, revealing yellowish teeth. When it clicked them, the captain heard a sound like falling dominoes. Something inside it was assembling the body.
Beneath a dead, milky film over its eyes, a flicker of torment and something alien to humanity flashed. It was as if the dead understood its unnatural state but could do nothing about it. Something within it was altering the very essence of humanity...
The horde swayed, shaking off its grave-like stupor. Stiffened muscles tore through dry skin. In a moment, the dead avalanche was in motion.
The muffled pops of gunfire tore through the silence again, merging into a deafening roar. The light of flashes momentarily snatched distorted faces from the darkness. Bullets bit into flesh, but the dead did not fall. It was visible how lead tore through flesh. Armor-piercing rounds, designed for robots, pierced the bodies clean through. The sweetish stench of decay was already seeping under the gas masks. Only the dead flock didn't even slow their pace.
"Retreat!"
The unit began to pull back, hitting the enemy with concentrated fire after it had been revealed through trial and error that single shots were ineffective against the targets. This cost the lives of three more soldiers, who were simply torn apart and disemboweled by the surging crowd.
Snapping back with fire, the squad retreated in disciplined fashion to the platform.
The monsters that were once people pressed in on them. Covered in their own and others' blood, the dead creatures looked truly infernal in the light of the lanterns and the flashes of gunfire.
The most terrifying thing was that the reanimated had stopped being silent. Bullets tore away chunks of flesh, but they did not stop. Here, a dead man had his heart blown apart by bullets – he merely staggered and let out a hoarse, mad laugh.
A burst of fire knocked the dead woman down. Like a stuck record, she endlessly repeated: "Forgive me..." and crawled, dragging her broken body, leaving streaks of black blood on the floor.
The captain saw this and understood: this isn't possible! But it was here. And it was approaching.
The soldiers left on the platform, having kicked the civilians back at the first shots, covered their comrades with fire. A hail of lead pushed the enemy back, allowing the vanguard to retreat without major losses. But the enemy kept coming, regardless of losses, forcing the guards to abandon their cover and retreat deeper into the tunnel.
The horde had lost its monolithic structure. Weaving between crates and hastily erected barricades, the crowd broke into groups and individuals.
This brought no relief to the guards. With every second, the dead became faster and stronger, losing their humanity. Skin peeled away before their eyes, revealing gray flesh with metallic parts glinting within.
If before a dead man could be knocked down by furious fire, his limbs broken and his head crushed, now they managed to leap at the soldiers and tear their throats.
The unit retreated, restoring its formation each time fangs tore the life from another comrade.
No one thought of running, perfectly understanding that if they turned their backs to the monsters, they would be killed. The soldiers did what they were taught. The front line retreated under the cover of the rear, only to then cover them.
Private Zaitsev laughed. Briefly, hysterically. The captain turned. The soldier stood with his rifle lowered, looking at his trembling hands.
"They... they're talking," he whispered.
A dead man leaped at him like a spider. Zaitsev didn't even resist.
And then the rear ranks crossed the hermetic gate. As if sensing their prey escaping, the dead made a dash. The monsters plunged directly into the center of the formation, cutting off a portion of the soldiers from the safe exit.
"Close the entrance!" the captain ordered, emptying another magazine of his AK.
The sergeant remaining at the checkpoint carried out the order, turning the key again. The multi-ton gate began to rise. Not the entire unit managed to retreat, but waiting any longer was simply too dangerous. This horror had to remain in "Mendeleev" at all costs.
The unit fired until the last moment, giving their comrades a chance, but the dead armada overwhelmed the soldiers.
The fighters and the captain helped those falling behind to cross the rising barrier. The last one they literally pulled from the tenacious fingers of the dead, but not everyone could be pulled out.
The captain would forever remember the face of Private Gusev. He hung on the door, unable to crawl in under the weight of the reanimated corpses clinging to him.
The dead tore at his body while the private screamed. The living could still hear those screams for a long time. The gate closed slowly.
When the complex was sealed again, the guards could swear they heard the crunching and gurgling screams of their comrade as the door ground his fingers, though it was impossible...
She, who was once Larisa Filatova, watched as her servants destroyed the organic soldiers. Having infiltrated the ventilation system along with the converted, she obtained chemically pure raw materials, which allowed her to reproduce spikes and increase the number of nanomachines. This was facilitated by the fusion reactor at the base of the "Mendeleev" complex, which powered the raw material purification equipment.
But this was not enough. Having replenished her army with new soldiers from the bodies of the living, she began the next part of the plan.
Her goal: to inflict maximum damage. She could have simply blown up the complex, but by using its resources, she could achieve more.
The monster intended to subjugate the AI – the brainchild of Lebedev's team. Using its power, it could replicate literally everything. The main thing was to provide resources, which she already had...
"That was easy," Katya said, tearing herself away from the mesmerizing box with beta connectors.
"I'd say frighteningly easy," I replied, steering the bathyscaphe towards the shore.
Whether the dolphin was touched or just didn't want to be disfigured, it quickly finished playing and deigned to our request, finding the connectors in five minutes.
"Your paranoia is rather selective, Major," HRAZ chimed in. "If I were you, I'd ask why Comrade Lebedev needed the machine, rather than guessing about the ease of finding the item with a trained tracker."
"There's nothing to it," Lakmus parried for me. "In the army, the hierarchy of information isn't invented out of thin air."
"Then why wasn't your command informed?" HRAZ persisted, which was starting to get on my nerves, especially considering the Wizard's warning about our assistant's, shall we say, questionable nature.
"Maybe it was. I'm just a deputy, not the command," I cut him off. "I know more than enough. Some secrets kill if they're spoken aloud at the wrong time."
"And you're not afraid of the consequences? Perhaps, by not knowing the details, you're playing on the side of evil?"
"I don't understand that," I growled with undisguised threat.
"Don't get me wrong. I believe in Academician Sechenov. But have you considered – won't he change when he has such power in his hands? Aren't you afraid of that? I, imagine, am afraid!" the former human said with a dynamic shift in tone.
"If we had doubts or disagreed, we wouldn't be here," Katya countered.
"Let Sechenov be like a father to me... but I would be the first to shoot him if I realized that 'Collective 2.0' was only needed for his own ambitions. We wouldn't even have to carry out the sentence ourselves. It would be enough to say the word to the right people – and they would come themselves. They'd even thank us," I concluded, forcing out these unpleasant words with difficulty.
"Perhaps we are all mistaken, but Sechenov is at least trying to do something. I believe it's better to regret what you've done than to sit and watch the world go to the abyss!" Katya continued the offensive.
"Living in this world and seeing its underbelly, you understand more than ever that it's impossible to live like this any longer," Lakmus joined the artillery preparation. "When mobsters come to your village as if it were their own, drag girls away, rob and kill, you have three choices: resign yourself, join them, or shoot the whole lot. I did the latter. By joining the squad, I started doing it too often, in my opinion. For every escort or hostage rescue mission, we had three liquidations of all sorts of scum. And it wasn't just dockside thugs! I don't care about official reports when you see how a gluttonous creature turns an orphanage into a brothel, another covers it up, and a third just turns away."
"That's why we chose to act. The world won't become perfect immediately. We'll just rip power from the hands of the degenerates, otherwise they'll finish humanity with their greed and perversions," I finished.
"And you decided you could decide how others live?" HRAZ didn't give up.
"For everyone else, it's been decided how to live for a long time. Only a homeless person is truly free. But if you get even a cat – it will immediately start deciding how you should live. You took responsibility for it, and it's alive and wants to eat," Katya countered.
"I wish I had your confidence..."
"And that's not your job. Your job is to calculate formulas," I said deliberately.
The real Khariton Zakharov would have certainly snapped back. But HRAZ just remained silent. The conclusion was obvious: we had just been attempted to be recruited by an unknown entity. If we were slightly less perceptive, it might have worked.
"I don't want to distract you, but I have problems..." Eleonora drawled in a peculiar way, and at that very moment, an emergency call signal sounded on the unit's frequency...