Darik waved for them to get aboard so they could get underway.
Mengele landed with a thump, bringing him out of his thoughts. He had already completed two projects in his mind and was eager to implement them. As the door slid open, he looked at the receiving bay. Humid air filled his lungs, refreshing after the stale, canned air of the capsule that was poorly filtered. He could feel the energy around him throb in time with the crash of the nearby waves.
Leaving the large warehouse structure, he stepped out to a nearby railing. White foam surged as the sea pounded violently on the rocks. He breathed in the briny air and smiled. A quick check of his internal clock showed the time was later than he had expected. His handiwork should be manifesting very soon.
He massaged his neck as he remembered Gus’s grip on it. Despite the angst of the moment, he had been able to keep his head on his shoulders, quite literally. Dimensional folding was an intricate process, especially when one could not breathe. But, as always, he had done it. He had worked his way in and unwound the next level of folding, breaking the fine threads that kept space contorted into the complex fractal folds.
Mengele could imagine the two split ends fizzling away like tiny fuses. When they reached a critical tipping point, Gus would literally explode if he had not managed to unlock the third iteration. And even if he did, the process would start over again until he was totally unzipped.
No matter how unique the upstart was, leveling to 100 in such a short time frame was virtually impossible. Life was good. And it was only going to get better. He just wished he could record the expression on Gus’ face when it occurred.
Gus settled into a chair and practiced meditating again. The others were combing through data and cheering as they found various hits. He smiled to himself and began. Green was the sphere of the day as he fell into his routine, yet like the others he could not pull any of it in.
It was progressively becoming more natural to activate the ability. He had settled into the cyclical routine when he noticed some distortion. He tried to ignore it, not wanting to fall out of concentration, but the static became more distinct, though still transparent. In like manner, the white noise around the distortion clarified before buzzing back into static. Bit by bit, the interference faded.
Gus saw the back of a man who was hunched over, surveying something that he couldn’t see. The lanky man stretched to his full height, muttered something, and paced for a couple of steps before massaging his chin and turning back to whatever he was inspecting. This went on for some time. Gus noticed more about the individual as he saw him in profile. He had an aquiline nose and there were tiny pince-nez glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
He turned about face during his pondering and was startled to see Gus staring back at him.
“Oh, this is unexpected. Our paths were not supposed to cross for…” He peeked over his shoulder. “At least another three moves. Bravo. You look quite different, I must say, since I last saw you. How are you liking superpowers? Everything you bargained for?”
He paused for the briefest of seconds, then went on distractedly as if Gus had replied. “It never is. But that would mean…” He turned and looked at what Gus could now see was some kind of table with multiple tabletop miniatures on it, reminding him of role-playing campaigns with his friends. He slid some pieces around, looking up to the left and right, confirming something to himself before turning back to Gus.
“The probabilities were low, but they are never zero! No matter how unlikely. This is the part of the game I like best. You know, it took me quite some time to arrange all the pieces just so, and then you had to be naughty and move one when I wasn’t looking. That’s cheating, young man.” He waggled a finger in Gus’ direction. “It won’t do at all. Now I have to shift some resources to finish placing the other pieces. One always thinks they have time,” he rambled to himself, shaking his head.
He turned and gave Gus the same searching look he must have been giving the figurines earlier, eyes appearing large in the round glasses. Grabbing one elbow, he cupped his chin with the other hand. “Well, my boy, are you ready to play?”
“I’m done playing everyone’s games.” He tried to make his voice menacing, but it came out barely a squeak.
The skinny man tittered. “It’s funny you should say that. I’ll bet you are looking for dear old mother, are you not?” He looked up at a screen only he could see. “Everything is functioning as it should, so I see my colleague kept his promise and kept her alive—for a change. I keep telling him not every turn is a gambit for knowledge. But he just gets more pieces, since he sacrifices so many. So gauche. But where was I? Ah yes, the game! What you think you have recovered is merely a husk, a vessel unfilled. If you want to see your mother hale and whole again, you will have to play. There is no other way, unfortunately.”
“What are you going on about?” Gus demanded, but like before, his voice sounded like he had sucked in a gulp of helium.
“Can I tell you a little secret? I have been waiting a long time to see how this campaign ends up. Generations of stacking and building, and now I’m almost ready to tip that first domino and watch the whole Rube Goldberg machine take off. Can I tell you another? You will play, whether you want to or not. The contestants always do. Now go, and don’t come back until I am ready for you!” He spun on his heels with an effete sniff, and the vision crumbled into a shower of pixels.
Gus was kicked out of his meditation just as suddenly.
Who was that guy?
Epilogue
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dennis asked, arms folded as he looked out the viewport of what was once the Von Neumann orbital space station. The liminal edge of the sun’s rays could be seen crawling across the Earth’s surface below as another day dawned.
Voltekka tilted his head to the side, examining the sight. After a pause that bordered on awkward, he responded simply, “Quite.”
Dennis smiled at his benefactor’s quirky demeanor.
“I assume you have come to discuss our progress and what needs to be done?” Dennis cringed, as his habit of trying to fill the lengthening silence kicked in, unbidden. He had become more used to Voltekka’s taciturn nature, but still fought the need to fill the quiet with something. Voltekka hated blather and he awaited a rebuke as the mecha turned to look directly at him.
“No, I can easily check progress remotely. I am here because—” He paused mid-sentence and held up a single mechanical finger. Dennis’ eyes focused in on the finger, seeing tiny emitters studded upon them. He had never been this close, but Voltekka’s seven-foot frame put them right at eye level.
An alarm began to sound, startling him out of his thoughts. It was relatively quiet, but compared to the silence that was the norm, it was jarring.
“…of that.” Voltekka finished. “Let’s watch, shall we?” Displays popped to life, controlled remotely as Voltekka synced with the system. Multiple monitors came to life and Voltekka even patched into their comms, and Dennis could hear them speaking to each other.
A force of five supers was entering through a breach in the side of the station. Slipping inside, one replaced the circular metal housing and spot welded it with a glowing finger. They proceeded down a corridor to where the high-grade materials and components were kept.
“It should be just down here,” the lead muttered, staring at a scanner as he motioned down the end of the hallway. Only two-hundred-fifty feet or so.”
“Good, let’s loot this station and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps,” a female super piped in, the edge evident in her voice.
The supers made their way down the hallway, looking up occasionally at the non-descript gray walls as they neared the vault at the end. One rubbed a hand along the wall, then turned to look at his fingers as he rubbed them together.
“Something ain’t right. If this stuff is as valuable as the boss says, there should be some security. This feels like a trap,” a gruff voice cut in.
“Don’t be so paranoid, Rowland. Always something in the shadows with you,” a jocular voice teased. “My father wouldn’t send us anywhere that was dangerous. This is an easy score. It’s a pain in the ass to get here, so that’s why no one has claimed these materials. Forty or fifty years ago, this station was abandoned with the people on board. Their shipment of oxygen was en route to the station when a big battle of supers broke out. The transport was crushed as collateral damage, and forgotten during the fight.”
“Damn corporations probably didn’t think it was fiscally feasible.”
“Either that or there wasn’t enough time. Maybe they didn’t care and planned on sending up more people, but that’s when the Shift occurred and everything changed.”
“Oh, call it what it was, an uprising,” the female spat with disgust.
“Supers taking over the governments was the best thing that has happened to the world for a long time and you know it,” the gruff voice broke in. “Besides, you’re a super; you’d think you’d be glad we never had to deal with a Keene Act or Sokovia Accord situation. Seizing control was the right choice.”
“Whatever,” she replied dismissively.
As they spoke, Voltekka recalled the event vividly, a small window opening in the lower left of his display as the memory played again. He saw himself, Merlin ushering his crew into the spacesuits that lined the airlock. Once they were secure, he would go and get his own. There weren’t enough here to fit everyone including him. Fortunately, there was one in a special bay in his office. The suits would buy them a day at best, but it could be all they needed until help arrived. If help arrived, that was.
The video jumped as Merlin began to feel the effects of oxygen deprivation. Flashes of him getting into position and having the suit clamshell down over him. Such an odd design. He must have succumbed to asphyxiation soon thereafter, as the suit took the initiative and Merlin felt a burning like liquid lava permeate his body, joining the less severe burning in his lungs as he gasped for breath.
He woke much later and found that he had recovered, and rushed to check on his crew, finding them all dead, rictuses of pain and terror frozen on their faces. The corporation hadn’t bothered to send viable oxygen tanks. He shook his head in disgust, looking at the pressure gauges. He shifted as the intruders reached a key waypoint.
The group reached the vault and a member of the group that hadn’t spoken came forward. Voltekka zoomed the view in to see what the thief was doing. The figure reached out a hand with a conical glove that suctioned onto the surface of the vault. Voltekka felt a biointerface attempt to connect with the electronic lock. He smiled internally as he sent a mental command. He synthesized the same command onto the invaders’ comms.
“Voltekkers: Violate!”
Each member of the group stiffened, and slowly looked around. Panels from the empty hallway began detaching, revealing the large mecha underneath, indistinguishable from their creator.
While there was red along the enamel white of their exteriors, there was much more when their job was finished.
Afterword
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About Carl Stubblefield
The author began his plans for world domination by first becoming a dentist. It is a well-known fact that dentists have unearthed the ancient secrets of how to crush the hearts of men and to hear the lamentations of women and children. When this was insufficient, he created worlds where he could torment the good guys before moving to the next phase of his plans. Known for nefarious accomplishments that involve crippling dad-jokes and debilitating puns.
From his secret lair hidden in the Pacific Northwest, he lives with his wife and three children. They haven’t left yet, but the mountain is covered with genetically altered wolves and other creatures. I’m sure that’s just a coincidence, though.
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About Mountaindale Press
Dakota and Danielle Krout, a husband and wife team, strive to create as well as publish excellent fantasy and science fiction novels. Self-publishing The Divine Dungeon: Dungeon Born in 2016 transformed their careers from Dakota’s military and programming background and Danielle’s Ph.D. in pharmacology to President and CEO, respectively, of a small press. Their goal is to share their success with other authors and provide captivating fiction to readers with the purpose of solidifying Mountaindale Press as the place ‘Where Fantasy Transforms Reality.’
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Mountaindale Press Titles
GameLit and LitRPG
The Completionist Chronicles,
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Full Murderhobo by Dakota Krout
King’s League by Jason Anspach and J.N. Chaney
A Touch of Power by Jay Boyce
Red Mage by Xander Boyce
Space Seasons by Dawn Chapman
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Ether Flows by Ryan DeBruyn
Bloodgames by Christian J. Gilliland
Wolfman Warlock by James Hunter and Dakota Krout
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Mephisto’s Magic Online by Christopher Johns
Skeleton in Space by Andries Louws
Chronicles of Ethan by John L. Monk
Pixel Dust by David Petrie
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