Unity

by Carl Stubblefield

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Sometimes the Good Guys Finish First

  None of my abilities are working against him… Gus thought frantically, trying to find some weakness. Something he could do. None of my abilities are working… Why did that set off that familiar tingle?

  Deep in Gus’ brain, hybrid-Nth formed a chain, and rerouted an impulse along a new pathway, connecting axons that had never communicated with each other. Becoming a living conduit as neurons fired in a new way.

  Like the damn turret!

  Gus made ready to activate Krackle, but he took it slower now. Upon activating the ability, he saw the ether weave and dance, forming the structure of the projectiles. They looked like a cockle burr, with the spikes growing and shrinking as energy moved about the outer skin. He could sense the step when the outer shell was complete and the ether construct was to be filled. He flexed his legs and tried to let the energy in his red pathway fall into the empty construct.

  The process was not easy. It started to comply, but Gus had to force it out. Pinpricks of pain began to add to the wounds Mengele had given him, but he could barely feel it through the adrenaline. It was like uprooting a large weed or pulling your own hair out at the roots. With a heave, Gus directed the energy into the spiky containers, which flared to life with a ruby light.

  He launched them toward Mengele but found that once primed, the energy was coming out, and he had no way to stop the flow. So he kept activating Krackle and building more containers to catch the energy spilling out. He had completed three sets of the balls and was forming his fourth when the first of the ruby fireballs hit the barrier.

  Gus knew that calling them fireballs was inherently wrong, but had no time for deep thought as the energy continued to overflow, and his entire attention was consumed with creating vessels for the energy. Something told him that if it were to spill out without a way to contain it that it would be bad. Like every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light kind of bad.

  The edge of the barrier began to sizzle and warp like melted plastic. It charred and smoked and then it was through, leaving a gaping hole that sagged in its wake. Gus was so consumed he missed the smug expression falling from Mengele’s face into something akin to fear.

  Placing his hands in front of him, he continued to form more barriers, pulling all his efforts into creating a thick wedge of a shield. The Krackle balls shrank and melted to nothing, but the ones behind penetrated deeper from the trail their fellows had blazed.

  The two of them stood there, frenetically working. The clusters of projectiles grew thicker and more concentrated as Gus sent them off to their target. And at last it was gone. Gus braced himself and watched the attack march on like a juggernaut. The outer layers of the barrier peeled and separated like an onion until they were so damaged, they dispersed into nothingness.

  Mengele was not to be discouraged; barriers formed and were pushed outward as new ones were formed below them in rapid succession. These ones resembled square plexiglass plates, each new one staggered at a slight angle to create a starlike pattern as it spiraled outward.

  “Go ahead, waste all of your MP on those barriers,” Gus said through cracked lips, but he doubted Mengele heard.

  A message popped on the bottom of Gus’ display. He read only a portion before swiping it away.

  Congratulations! You have added a modality to a power. This will upgrade all martial abilities that use energy to Tier II abilities…

  Not now.

  Seeing a red gel nearby, Gus pulled himself along the counter, not trusting his throbbing legs, and threw the gel in his mouth.

  There was a massive surge of strength and HP. His legs immediately regained their strength and he moved toward Mengele, who was tiring. The protective plates were spilling out considerably slower now. One of the energy balls made it through the fringe and detonated when it hit his shoulder, knocking him back, tearing a large chunk out of the shoulder, revealing muscle and glistening bone.

  The fall was fortuitous for him, because the few remaining projectiles passed through the final barriers and traveled above him. Detonating from proximity, but without direct contact. There was definitely damage, but there would have been little left of Mengele had they hit him point blank in the chest.

  Now, Gus, go now! Nick urged.

  Gus waved away the fumes and smoke and grabbed Mengele. He clamped down on his throat and lifted him in the air.

  “I can see why you like this. It feels good to be on this end for a change.”

  Mengele kicked and flailed and razor-sharp threads hit his chest and lower body. Many ricocheting off, others slicing the surface, even others boring straight though, leaving pinhole sized wounds in their wake.

  Gus’ knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip. Instead of fear, Mengele had a creepy manic expression on his face, as if encouraging Gus to keep going. He could only force out tiny gasps and squeaks. There was nothing to discuss. This man was poison personified. Mengele’s eyes darted left and he stopped struggling. A wide smile played across his lips and there was a groan behind his shoulder.

  “BoJack!” someone yelled.

  Gus felt a twinge, like someone had plucked a sour note on a guitar string, and knew BoJack had indeed been hurt. That was new. But he couldn’t be distracted. The others could help him. Gus locked eyes with Mengele, boring into him as he pressed harder and harder.

  I never thought I would feel this way again… Gus heard in a faint whisper. It was reminiscent of using Telepathy with that same ethereal filter to any spoken words. Hardening his resolve, he let it go and focused on crushing the life out of Mengele. The little roach was resilient.

  Roach? That’s a new one.

  The thought surprised Gus and he relaxed his grip for a split second, allowing Mengele to draw in a ragged breath.

  You can hear me?

  I can, and I can tell you that you very well may end me. But doing so will be at the cost of your friend bleeding out over there. Us roaches take a lot to kill, you know.

  The statement rang with truth as his True Sight ability pinged. He growled internally, leaning close to Mengele.

  This isn’t over.

  For now it is. And you’ve just kicked a hornet’s nest. I wasn’t lying when I said I was disappointed in you. When we meet again, maybe you will have learned how these others are a liability. Eventually, you’ll see. Now go help your fragile friend.

  Gus flung Mengele, who managed an easy flip, landing on one knee, and casually started rubbing his neck. He slapped a panel next to him and slid into the doorway. There was a vibration and rumbling. Gus turned and ran to his friend. It was bad. The others were holding hands on his wounds, but it wasn’t enough as blood burbled between hands white with pressure. Mengele had managed his cutting ability and they couldn’t leave BoJack’s side.

  Gus slid to a stop and turned back, looking for another red gel. Anything. He opened drawers, display racks, and cupboards that lined the room. Weapons, armor pieces, electronics, tissue samples. But no damn gels.

  “Hurry, Gus!” one of the women shrieked as he searched. With a fierce tug, the fifth drawer of a large rolling cart opened and there were gels inside! The weight of the extended drawers caused the cart to tumble forward, and Gus barely snatched three gels before the cart toppled.

  Gus slid to a stop by BoJack’s side and bit the corner off of a gel, then squished the gooey contents in his slack mouth. He looked worse than Gus had ever seen him: blanched like a drowning victim but shriveled instead of bloated. The only hint that he was alive were the sunken eyes slowly turning to Gus in recognition. With one gel in, Gus gently closed BoJack’s mouth and massaged his throat, hoping that it would go down the right tube and BoJack wouldn’t choke.

  When nothing apparent happened, Gus ripped into another gel and force-fed it to BoJack.

  He gripped Gus’ hand with a weak hand and moaned, “Worth it…” in a voice that sounded like dust escaping a sealed tomb, before his he
ad fell back.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Take What You Want

  Gus held his mentor, lying limp in his trembling hands. Why was he shaking? He noticed the movement coming from BoJack.

  “I had you all there, didn’t I?” the corpse-like man rasped, his laugh turning into a hacking cough.

  Yuki gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

  “You’re a real bastard, you know that?!” Anastasia spat, throwing her head back and stomping off. This only made BoJack laugh all the more.

  Gus fed BoJack the last gel and he was able to chew it himself. Color started to flood back into his cheeks. His hair was still sweaty and slicked back, but as everyone removed their hands, the cuts were already nothing more than red scratches that faded to pink and smoothed out before their eyes.

  “Glad you’re back, buddy.” Gus clapped BoJack on the shoulder and then cast his eyes around the room. He flipped the cart and took out the small bin that held the gels inside. After making the rounds, everyone was out of immediate danger and BoJack saw to everyone’s injuries and was able to reverse any damage utilizing the surgical instruments that were readily available. Soon everyone was back to 100% and searching the room for any loot they could find.

  The Vault was a treasure trove. Aurora had found two tool benches and was organizing her kit, taking and cataloging all the parts like a kid sorting their Halloween hoard. Component after component dropped into her well organized kit composed of many zippered pockets.

  “Mind if I keep a lot of this?” BoJack held up one of the handheld devices to Gus. “These would cost mega credits to buy. I doubt even large hospitals would have the budget for most of this.”

  “Take it all; I don’t care if I ever see this place again,” Gus said, looking back towards the lab where Mengele had worked on him and shuddering a bit.

  “Um, about that…” Yuki tiptoed forward. “It might be a really good idea to claim this base as our own. You know, hack in and change the accesses so Mengele can’t get back in here after we leave.”

  “You sure he wouldn’t have some kind of backdoor?” Darik asked.

  “You wound me, Darik. Have you been sleeping this whole time? I can do it.”

  “Let’s clear off one of these recovery beds, so you can access the system and hack in.” Gus turned to drag one from the neighboring operating rooms.

  Yuki grabbed his arm to stop him. “Yeah. If I do it, I’m going to take the long way. It’ll take a lot longer, but it’s also safer. I’ve had enough excitement for just a little bit.”

  “Go ahead, Yuki, I like ‘safe’ once in a while,” Gus agreed. “How long do you think it will take?”

  “I won’t know until I get in, but I guesstimate two hours. Give me two hours. If it’s too much, I’ll drop a worm in to ruin all of the computers here. Without something to manage the heat down here, I guess the whole place will break down pretty quickly, and Mengele will be hard pressed to salvage anything. Is that enough time for you?”

  “The sooner we’re out of here the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Sanura removed her helmet and preened her fur a bit to tame it, waiting patiently for Gus to finish. When Gus’ attention was free, she addressed him. “Forgive me, I’ve got to get back. I have a date with my daughter. There should be something in the hangar I could use. I will join you all back at the manor when I get her. I may even bring her there to meet you.”

  “Why don’t you take my skip-jump? I’ll send you the coordinates.” Gus reviewed his logs and slid over the information.

  “Thank you, that will save me some time.” Prime bowed slightly and ran toward the exit.

  Grimdark sat near Harmony. She still had a drawn expression, staring straight ahead, mumbling as Grimdark spoke with her.

  “Is she going to be okay, BoJack? Did you find anything when you checked her out?”

  “No mental damage, but she said something about how Mengele turned her ability back onto her. She said it was… ‘invasive,’ but wouldn’t go into much detail. I think she just needs some time. What about you, Gus? How are you doing?”

  “I… I’m not ready to talk about what went on here. Just know that it was horrible. Give her some space too. Nothing good comes from brushing up against that man.”

  “That reminds me, I have something to show you that I think you’ll be interested in. Follow me.” BoJack gestured to a display case filled with vials.

  There was no room to move in the small porta-potty-sized ship as it flew along its preprogrammed trajectory to Mengele’s closest base. In truth, they were designed to ship specimens, not people, but it worked in a pinch.

  There was little to occupy his mind, so he retreated to his memory palace and ruminated on the battle. Partitioning his mind, he reviewed different aspects. One raged with the bitterness of failure and loss of his materials. The utter waste galled him. He finally understood why others put self-destructs into their bases. Better that no one gain access to his hard-earned assets than they fall into the hands of those… unworthy ones.

  Hopefully one of them would blow themselves up tinkering with one of the weapons. The thought made the side of his mouth twitch in a faint smile.

  Another partition noted that he had leveled recently. It had been so long ago that he had hidden the indicator from his normal display. He had reached level 249. When he hit 250, he should have everything he needed to confront his employer and move to the next stage. He pursed his lips as the ecstasy soothed away the remaining pain. When the glow faded, he was back to his familiar numb feeling. He almost missed the pain.

  A separate part of his mind evaluated his and Gus’ tactics in the last battle, replaying it over and over in his mind. He could only see the barest hints of what the upstart had done, but this much Mengele knew. He had found a way to connect foundation energies to active abilities. Mengele had not been able to do that. Yet.

  Not only that, but he had drained the entire well of free foundation energy in a huge radius around the epicenter of the blast. He turned his attention inward on his own meridians, still raw from the experience, and found a pleasant surprise. While the energy he had struggled to gather and refine was all gone, the channels pulsing like an aching tooth, orange light caught his attention. A large section of the second disk had been chipped or eroded away, revealing the next node.

  Maybe it was all worth it.

  Examining his other nodes, he saw a narrow wedge of yellow on the next meridian and the rest of them showed visible cracks, all the way to the top. Excellent!

  There was so much to do. Revenge to plan. Designs for his new suit to mentally construct and test so he would be ready when he got to his new lab. And pondering. So much pondering to do. Each partition of his mind worked on its task, and the hours slipped by unnoticed as he worked.

  One thing became clear as the time went on, Mengele felt something he hadn’t in quite a while. A challenge. A new adversary to dismantle in every aspect, the same way he had with his body. He turned and looked at the small case of samples. Twenty-five pristine tissue biopsies in nutrient baths, each stimulated to keep them alive.

  So many plans.

  “I’m in!” Yuki shouted. “With eighteen minutes to spare, too! Having that other data from the hospital really helped. I already had big sections already cracked, and he used the same security here. No AI though. That was nice.”

  “Were you able to change security to keep Mengele out?”

  “Already done. Oh, and I interrupted some huge file transfer he was in the middle of. No doubt he got some of it, but a fair amount should be corrupted from the distortion of interrupting the feed. Unfortunately, it ruined the data on our end. But do you really want to know what he was up to?”

  “Actually, I do.” Gus’ face turned serious. “Anything you can find as far as research goes, store it remotely and delete everything when we leave. I don’t want anyone dabbling in whatever hellish experiments he has been doing down here for who knows how
long. But maybe there’s a clue in there about what he did to my mother. There has to be.”

  “I didn’t think about that. I’ll copy it, but don’t expect me to go through it. That guy is sick.”

  “I won’t, just get me everything. Thanks, Yuki. Hacking in was a good call.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Can we talk later? I need to wrap up some more things here, but I have a proposition for you.” At her expression, he backpedaled. “Nothing like that, but I need your help with something.” BoJack stepped up, tapped Gus’ shoulder and gestured to the side of the room before moving there and waiting. “Like I said, we’ll talk later.”

  Yuki flashed a big peace sign and winked.

  As Gus came close, BoJack whispered, “So, have you made any decisions on what to do with them?”

  “No, but are you sure we should keep this hidden from the others?

  “Yes. Trust me, yes. Supers kill other supers for something like this. Especially the higher tier they are. Keep it to yourself. For now.”

  “Still feels wrong, but I’ll trust you—for now.” Gus turned to the rest of the Crew. “How is everyone doing? Ready to head back?”

  “All of us are registered into the system and I’ve armed it against anyone else. Mengele will get a rude awakening if he decides to come back,” Yuki reported.

  “Bah, that little rat will manage to squeak out somehow. His kind always does. I’m done here, I’ll go call the elevator.” Darik turned and headed down the long corridor, which had reset to its warm glow.