Leviathan(118)

Face twisted in pain and exhaustion, Connor moved quickly forward, able to keep at least one door between himself and Leviathan as he moved through the deep cave. He wanted to lay a trap for the beast, something to hurt it, to disorient it. But in the speed required by the chase he was unable to tear an electrical line from the wall or even find a corridor narrow enough to prevent pursuit. And with each colossal, roaring attack on the vault behind him, Connor felt himself groaning mindlessly, staggering even more in fatigue ...

So weary ...

* * *



“This way!” Thor shouted.

With the frantic shout the wild-haired Norseman was running down the hallway, all caution forgotten, moving recklessly through the vaporous white fumes. His eyes blazed in rage, the battle-ax raised high in his hand. He did not wait for Barley and didn't turn to see if he was followed even though Barley was running behind him, breathless and ragged.

“How do you know that it went this way?” the lieutenant shouted urgently, glaring at the darkness.

“I can hear it! It has found them!”

Barley said nothing as Thor leaped over a fallen support beam, landing lightly on the other side. And then he was running again, shouting vividly into the darkness, the flame and the smoke.

“To me, beast!” he roared. “Bring the battle to me!”

* * *



Connor slid through another door, desperately lifting Jordan into his arms. But because of severe blood loss his strength was fading fast, almost gone. He knew that this couldn't go on much longer. The roars were closer now – much, much closer. And Connor whirled, searched for some avenue of escape that would frustrate Leviathan, something so small that it would stall the chase. But he saw only the ventilation shaft.

No good.

Connor knew that if he couldn't get them far enough inside the shaft before the Dragon reached them, the creature would simply send another heat blast down the pipe that would kill him and Jordan instantly. But he knew that there had to be a way ...



Close behind them a vault shattered, falling to the floor. Connor spun, staring, enraged, not even hearing Jordan's cries. He glared savagely left and right and centered on yet another door, more than a quarter mile ahead, that he somehow knew led into a chamber. But which chamber?

A roar erupted, even closer.

No time to figure it out.

Connor ran forward, holding Jordan tight against his chest, ignoring his own blast-furnace breath and the sweat that streamed from his face. He couldn’t feel his arms. They were weak and numb, no longer a part of his body. But he moved as fast as his strength could carry him, feeling his heavy strides slowing with fatigue. He collapsed halfway down the tunnel, catching his breath before he recognized a soft cry, Jordan speaking. He looked down sharply to see his son’s upturned face.

“Daddy,” Jordan cried. “Where is it?”

Connor shook his head hard. “It ain’t gonna get us, boy. You and me are getting out of here.” He nodded. “You and me and Mommy are going home.”

Hope brightened in Jordan's eyes. “Are you gonna kill it?”

Connor stared down, and somehow, in the heat and passion of the moment, Connor knew that he was committing himself to something that he would never back down from. Even if it meant his life.

“Yeah, boy,” he whispered. “I'm gonna kill it.”

Jordan touched his face.

Connor smiled.

Then the child screamed as a thunderous pursuit sounded close behind them, the roar of the beast. And Connor was instantly running, gasping in pain and fatigue and tightly holding his son, his son, his son ...

* * *





Chapter 28



Fifteen minutes until detonation ...”

Beth stared, concentrating. “Is any part of Rachel alive in there, Frank? Can any part of the computer respond to an emotional appeal?”

Hands flying over the controls, Frank fixed on her. “No,” he said evenly. “Rachel's dead. Whatever is inside the machine is just an electromagnetic copy of her synapse system. It’s like a web of connections on a niobium-titanium chip that make up the Logic Core. It allows for more humanlike thinking.”

Almost mesmerized, Beth continued to stare at the tube. “Well what does Rachel’s icon look like?’'

“I programmed the icon to look like Rachel,” Frank said as he leaped off the platform and ran for what appeared to be the Cyberspace Module. Two separate Cyberspace suits were available for use, each hanging in large, glistening spheres.

Beth blinked, stunned. She had never expected that. It was almost horrific; this scientist going into Cyberspace to confront the image of his dead wife to convince her to spare his life.

Speaking quickly, Frank came back onto the control dais. He picked up a thin black visor and handed it to her. “Place this over your eyes and you'll be able to see everything that I’m doing,” he said. “At least you’ll be able to see everything that I’m doing until I reach the Logic Core. After that I'll be off the screen. I'll be in the neural network.”