Daemon

He turned to the board operator. ‘Physically cut the power to the north perimeter doors.’
    The board operator rolled back in his chair. He opened anelectrical panel on the back wall and started tripping breaker switches.
    Philips leaned over the board and clicked from camera to camera. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘Don’t worry, Doctor. He’s trapped.’
    ‘That’s what you said last time. Show me.’
    ‘We just tripped the breakers. The perimeter doors are frozen in a locked position. He’s not getting through inch-thick steel plating.’
    She studied the bank of black-and-white monitors. The large one in the center now showed the intruder standing in a deadend hallway some distance from the exterior steel doors. He stood above three newly fallen guards, their bodies smoking. The intruder was just staring up at the camera. Unnervingly calm. He was only a kid – early twenties at most.
    The Major nodded at the monitor. ‘I told you we’d stop him.’ He turned to a nearby guard. ‘I want every gun on the tarmac focused on that exit.’
    Philips leaned into the microphone sticking up from the control board. She held down the mic switch. ‘You’re trapped. Give up, and you won’t be hurt.’
    The intruder’s tinny voice came in over the speakers. ‘Dr Philips, I see you discovered D-Space. Or at least a layer of it.’
    A flash of fear swept through her. He knew her real name. How could he possibly know her name? Thoughts of her parents in D.C. thrust front and center in her mind. She turned to The Major. ‘Call Dr Fulbright at Fort Meade. Tell him to take my parents into protective custody. Now!’
    The Major snapped his fingers at a Korr guard, who grabbed another phone.
    She keyed the mic. ‘You know who I am. So who are you – or are you afraid to tell me your name?’
    ‘Bitch. I’m Loki, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and I’m about to ruin your whole fucking day.’
    Merritt took off his suit jacket and headed for the door. ‘Keep this nutcase busy, Doctor.’
    Ross grabbed Merritt’s arm. ‘No heroics, Roy.’
    ‘I don’t plan on any.’
    The Major blocked his path. ‘Where are you going?’
    Merritt looked calmly at him. ‘I’m going to see how that prick deals with flash-bang grenades. Unlock the gaming pit, Major.’
    The Major appraised Merritt for a moment, then grabbed a radio and headset from a nearby charging station. The man looked as determined as he had in the famous Burning Man images from Sobol’s mansion. He tossed them to Merritt. ‘Good luck.’ The Major watched him exit.
    Philips turned back to the monitor and keyed the mic again. ‘Loki, Sobol is using you. What you’re doing is high treason. If you surrender now, I can help you.’
    ‘You can help
me
?’ He laughed. ‘I’m not the one who needs help. The society you’re defending is doomed.’
    ‘It’s your society, too, Loki.’
    ‘No. It’s my
parents’
society, not mine. What does it offer my generation? A meaningless existence. Living long, boring lives, milked each day by salesmen. Livestock for a permanent ruling class. Well, I have no use for their laws, their maps, their failures. The Daemon has already defeated them.’
    ‘This is your last warning: surrender.’
    Loki smiled. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’
    Philips sighed in exasperation and pounded the mic button again. ‘We physically cut the power to the door in front of you. Your hacks won’t work. Even if you manage to get through the door, we’ve got snipers covering the tarmac. They’ll cut you down from two hundred meters downrange. Just surrender.’
    Loki shook his head. ‘You’re not thinking in enough dimensions, Doctor. Only
part
of me is in this building.’
    Squads of heavily armed Korr Security guards ran to take up positions next to a guard shack ringed with highway barriers and razor wire at the perimeter gate. Behind them a quarter mile of bare tarmac stretched to the nearest hangar, but most of their attention was drawn inward, to Building Twenty-Nine itself. They listened to their encrypted radios and the voice coming through it.
    ‘Shoot on sight. Repeat: Shoot on sight …’
    ‘Copy that, Secom. Out.’
    A bay breeze kicked up, sending scraps of paper tumbling over the expanse of concrete and flattening them against the chain-link fencing. Nearer to the building another squad of Korr guards with scoped M4A1s rushed to take up positions in the staff parking lot – the best cover available. They