Myst and Ink, Book 1

by HD Smith

  “The PKs are taking over security tomorrow—” The Biker stopped talking.

  Crap, he’s breaking my hold.

  The Biker lunged for me.

  I’d purposely put myself near an entryway to the building beside us. I bolted for the door and jumped away as soon as I was out of sight of The Biker, who chased after me. I stepped through a fold in space and landed on the roof above the alley, looking down on the other two as they finished their own break from the spell’s hold. Mr. Pink Pants was on one knee, heaving in air, and Mr. Track Suit was bent double.

  “Fuck,” The Biker yelled as he stepped back out into the alley.

  “What the hell! Why didn’t you go after him?” Mr. Track Suit whined.

  “He’s a ghost. In the wind,” The Biker said, still taking deep uneven breaths.

  Taking out his Link, The Biker started typing out a message. I instructed the spider bots I’d scattered earlier to get closer and connect with his device. But they couldn’t connect. The Biker’s Link was protected with Peacekeeper tech. What the Lucy-hell did that mean?

  “Shit,” The Biker cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Mr. Pink Pants asked.

  “Nothing,” The Biker said, lowering his Link.

  Without warning, he pulled out his blaster and shot his two cohorts in the head.

  Then he stepped into the void and disappeared.

  “Holy hell,” I muttered.

  Dexter, who’d been listening in and watching the action through my spiders, texted.

  DEXTER: What just happened?

  LIAM: He walked through a fold in space

  DEXTER: I thought you were the only one with JumpNav tech

  LIAM: Not anymore … this means House Vance is involved, which means we need to get the CME first

  DEXTER: What? For Donovan? Why?

  I suspected Dexter knew my secret, but I’d not come right out and said it.

  LIAM: No, to keep it away from Vance. It won’t go to Donovan

  DEXTER: This is all about Harko Royale?

  LIAM: It has to be—which means we need to figure out what Harko Royale’s goals are

  House Storm, the business side that Oliver controlled versus the social side that Byron pretended to run, had no love for House Vance. Oliver despised Dalton and refused to use Peacekeepers for his personal security. My uncle had once tried to prove to Oliver that he needed Peacekeeper protection by attempting to kill him.

  In retaliation, Oliver had every building on Tau with the Vance name on it leveled. He’d made sure the buildings were empty first, but Oliver made his point. Dalton never tried something so stupid again.

  There was also a Zar patent for JumpNav that Oliver was trying to take from Dalton. I assumed that was more about possible profit than any score to settle. Needless to say the two had a mutual hate going on.

  LIAM: Figure out how we’ll take the CME. Where we’ll put the product, etc. We go tonight

  DEXTER: You got it, boss

  I recalled my spider bots and jumped back to my building.

  14

  Cortez Towers Hospital, Tau, Tuesday, 13:00 LTZ

  Gen

  Dr. Parker looked up from his Link, startled to see me awake.

  “Ms. Harlow,” he stammered.

  Glancing down, he saw that my wrists were free. His hands started to shake, and his cup slipped from his grasp.

  “Stay right here,” he said as he turned toward the door. “I’m going to get an orderly to help me—you. Don’t move.”

  Dr. Parker ran from the room as if the Hounds of Hell were after him.

  I scurried off the bed, not wanting to miss my chance to escape again.

  A tiny bot exited a panel in the wall and started cleaning the spill.

  “Interface. Where are my clothes?” I asked as I pulled the IV out of my arm and dropped it.

  Susan9 reappeared over the tiny bot, watching as it cleaned the floor. I peeled the six remote sensors off my neck and chest, which caused several machines to start beeping.

  “Any time now,” I said, to get her attention.

  She pointed behind her, toward a panel with a recessed handle. “Your personal effects are in this drawer.”

  Taking a step toward the panel, I almost toppled over. The sudden movement showed me just how unsteady I was, and I grabbed the bed to balance myself. My strength was still returning, and I had to acclimate to standing, which wasn’t helping my chances of escape.

  Susan9 watched the little bot as it returned to its charging port after cleaning the spell.

  “The bot said you are messy,” Susan9 said.

  “Did you tell him I didn’t spill the coffee?”

  “No,” she said. “What are you waiting on?”

  She’d moved to stand by the panel containing my clothes. Her mannerisms and speech were changing. I really hoped that wasn’t a bad sign, but it wasn’t anything I could worry about until after I escaped the tower.

  A hum sounded, and a cool breeze circulated the air in the room. Tiny prickles of sensation bombarded me. New myst was flooding the room, which helped to clear my head and quiet some of the machines. I straightened to move, still not sure I’d make it. Focusing on the panel, I could see where I needed to go. I just had to get one foot in front of the other.

  I took a step, but before my foot hit the ground the world shifted. I shot out my hand to grab the bed again, but it landed on the hard synthetic surface of the wall panel.

  Dizzy, it took me a minute to get my bearing. I glanced back at the bed, which was behind me, where I’d been standing a moment ago. I’d either somehow traveled those few meters in the blink of an eye, or I’d lost time and sleepwalking was my new thing.

  “What just happened?” I said.

  “You folded space, which is a very rare ability,” Susan9 said.

  Folded space—that was how the wormholes worked. I’d say it was impossible that I could do something that unexpected, but my continued existence and ability to use elite magic were already disproving many of my earlier beliefs about my capabilities.

  Shaking off the haze, I opened the drawer and found my things. Luckily my explosive event had not resulted in actual fire. Everything I’d been wearing before was here, including my Link.

  I unzipped the patient jumpsuit and pulled it down from my shoulders. Slipping out my arms, I pushed the material to my ankles and stepped out of the garment.

  Taking hold of the hospital issued undergarments, I started to remove them, but that was easier said than done in my woozy state. I’d used most of my second wind removing the jumpsuit. I considered leaving the undergarments on, but what if they were marked and could be tracked? Of course, they’d had access to my company issued scrubs and lab coat. They’d had plenty of time to bug everything I owned.

  “Interface. Do the undergarments or my scrubs have any trackers on them?”

  “Yes. All clothing has been tagged.”

  Lucy-damn-hell.

  “Interface. Is there a way to disable the tags?”

  “Yes. The most effective method will be to short circuit them with a localized EMP burst on your person, after you have put the clothes on.”

  I had no damn clue how to do any type of Electro Magnetic Pulse burst, much less a localized burst. Was there a spell for that? And if so, was this my life now—casting spells at every turn? I took a deep breath. I could worry about the negative impact of spell casting to solve my problems after I rescued myself from the clutches of the Head of House Cortez.

  I picked up my scrubs and started putting them on.

  “Interface. How do I create a localized EMP burst?”

  “Your spell library contains many such options. I recommend this one.”

  Susan9 flicked her hand toward me, and my VF lit up with a beautiful spell, the glyph made of elegant swirls and eddying patterns that flowed as if made of liquid. Okay, so Susan9 could apparently search my spell library better than I could. Cool. I wondered if she knew where it actua
lly came from. Maybe it had belonged to Miko.

  “Interface. How did I get a spell library?”

  “It appears to have been implanted at your birth. Or possibly prior to your birth, but I do not know the exact circumstances. It is part of your data core and virtual field infrastructure.”

  I stopped putting on my clothes for a second and tried to absorb that information. I’d had a data core and spell library since birth? Nope, still didn’t fully realize the truth of that. I shook my head, but there was no denying everything about me had been a lie. For now, I had to get the hell out of here before Dr. Parker or the orderlies came back.

  I quickly finished putting on my scrubs and lab coat, then thought activate.

  Nothing happened.

  Okay, I’d been able to make spells work a few minutes ago. I looked at the spell displayed on my VF. It was right there. All I had to do was touch it. That was what I’d done.

  “Okay,” I said. “Here goes nothing.”

  I mentally touched the spell.

  It highlighted, and a wisp of air ran across my skin. Looking down, I saw the tattoo on my arm flowing as if alive. It activated, sending out a pulse of energy all over my body.

  “Interface. Are the trackers on my clothes deactivated?”

  “Yes.”

  The myst snowflake alarm sounded again. My energy level had plummeted again too. Were my actions directly depleting the myst in the room? According to the news broadcast, the drone had stopped working because there was no myst to activate it, and Susan9 had had to stop recording because all myst was depleted.

  “Genevieve,” Susan9 said. “It is time to go. You should consider a location with lower myst saturation.”

  Was too much myst in a room the reason I’d lost it and erupted into the Blue Angel of Death? Did my body absorb myst to fuel spells regardless of my actions, or was my consumption fueled only by casting? Both ideas seemed problematic. And neither explained exactly what had caused my hospital room to be depleted while I was unconscious.

  I grabbed my Link and turned to leave. Fuck, I couldn’t leave with my hair like this. I opened a drawer marked instruments. Not sure what I expected to find, but a junk drawer with loose bandages and tape wasn’t it. I spotted a handle and pulled out a pair of laser-cut scissors.

  Grabbing up a section of my hair, I sliced it off to chin length. I’d find a spell to hide it another way once I was clear of the hospital. For now, shorter would be less visible.

  As soon as I dropped the hair to grab another hank, it disappeared. A surge of cold ran through me, causing me to lose hold of the scissors. From the corner of my eye, I watched as the hair I’d just cut grew back.

  “What the fuck?” I said. How was this happening? It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. I’d figure it out later.

  I opened the other drawer, hoping to find a head covering or some way to tie up my hair, but there was nothing. Knowing my time was running out, I ignored my very visible problem and turned to leave.

  I took a step forward, thinking about getting to the hallway and out of the building. My world shifted again, this time jumping me to the corridor outside the room.

  “Whoa,” I said, putting my hand to my temple.

  My skin felt alive, as if tiny dots of energy were bombarding it again. Blue sparks arched up, dancing along my skin. Susan9’s warning came to mind. I couldn’t stay in such a myst-rich environment, or I might go supernova again.

  Folding space had been easy, but what if I thought of the clouds in the sky as I stepped to go outside? Would I find myself falling through the air at my next step?

  “Stop,” a male voice yelled.

  I looked up to see Dr. Parker and a large Peacekeeper running toward me from the other end of the hospital wing.

  I tried to ignore the live wire feeling crawling up my spine. I had to get out of here, and preferably without blowing up another part of the hospital.

  I needed a low-myst location. I wasn’t sure yet how the myst level directly affected me, but so far more was not better. Since a direct jump to Canis, the lowest myst planet in the Known Worlds, was likely impossible, I knew of only one other place—the K12 lab.

  K12 had been evacuated for now. I could hide there until tomorrow, when Marissa Cortez’s specialty Peacekeepers were scheduled to arrive. Maybe by then I could figure out how to control my non-stop draw. With the location firmly placed in my mind, I took a step forward.

  This time, after the world had shifted, my body didn’t feel as explosive. The arcs of blue energy had quieted, and I could breathe again.

  The K12 lab was empty and deserted, the space dark except for emergency lights. I took in a long breath, finally able to think. Within seconds, my initial sense of relief evaporated. I felt it: a power like no other. The lab hummed with energy more intense than anything I’d ever experienced, as if it were a pressure designed to squeeze me into a ball. The sensation crawled all over my entire body, seeping into my pores and tightening like a vice around my core.

  Susan9 appeared in the room. Holding out her arms and appearing to take in a deep breath, she said, “This is perfect.”

  “What the fuck?” I said, right before I passed out.

  15

  K12 Lab - Sector 2, Tau, Wednesday, 00:30 LTZ

  Liam

  It was half past midnight. The rain ended as I stepped through the void into an alley in Sector 2’s industrial district. Worlds Weather for Tau was never wrong, and the timing had been perfect.

  Tau’s manufacturing sectors had a familiar feel, a mix of old city decay, long forgotten grit, and air filled with the scent of myst. The industrial parks on Tau, where most of the planet’s merchandise was made, always had the most potent myst presence.

  “StormTech sensors on,” I said. “Zero detection mode. Enhanced Visual Field up, auto correct visibility.”

  My ocular implant activated, syncing with enhanced sensors developed by one of Oliver’s companies. The link was an inlay etched with powerful visual enhancement spells, and because the upgrade could be customized, it also included several elite House Vance spells that didn’t come with the standard installation. My night vision was acutely enhanced, which brought the dark alley of Sector 2 into crisp focus.

  A warning flashed on my VF.

  [Zero Detection mode is illegal on Tau (P58). Eridu Tau Consortium, proclamation V2i.78.e9. Signed into law on: P58 04.99.027. Consider this your only warning. Peacekeepers will arrest you on sight. Do you forfeit your right to a hearing before a judge and accept your punishment of 30 days in protective custody? (Yes or No)]

  “No.”

  [Your answer has been recorded and will be presented to the Peacekeepers upon your capture. Have a good day.]

  Dexter’s voice echoed in my ear. “You know those fancy sensors are going to get you in trouble one day.”

  “First, the only part that’s illegal is the jammer, and that’s because of an archaic Tau law pertaining to a marriage contract that the Supreme Court incorrectly related to general surveillance.”

  “Okay, boss, whatever you say,” Dexter chuckled.

  If a Peacekeeper were to walk up to me, I’d activate Protocol Seventy-Nine, which would convince the Peacekeeper that I was a House Vance royal with immediate need for evacuation and protection. It would take my orders without question and not make a scene while doing it. Luckily I hadn’t yet had to use that protocol and hopefully never would, because it would notify my uncle as official head of House Vance Security.

  “Explain to me again why we’re here at zero-dark-thirty to steal three metric tons of CME?” Dexter asked.

  I really didn’t want to have this conversation, but we’d been dancing around the topic for a while now, and once I started rearranging Dalton’s plans, he wasn’t going to be happy—which meant anyone associated with me was in danger.

  “Harko Royale is behind the CME,” I said. “That means Dalton Vance is tied to this in a way that isn’t clear yet. If he wants it, I don�
�t want him to have it. It’s that simple.”

  “Sounds like there’s more to the story,” Dexter said.

  “Let’s just say there’s a reason I don’t worry about PKs trying to arrest me.”

  Dexter was quiet for a minute, then he said, “I knew it. You blew me off when I first started working for you, but I knew. You’re Andrew Mortimer Cassius Vance II, presumed dead Head of House Vance. Lucy-damn-hell, boss, that’s awesome.”

  “You may change your mind when Dalton decides to send killers after us, and it’s Liam Anderson now. No one can know Cassius isn’t dead. I wanted you to know so you’ll be prepared if the CME operation goes sideways.”

  “Why? Because we’re about to poke the bear?”

  “I’d say it was closer to a red-hot spike to the heart, but yeah.”

  “Then we need to get started,” Dexter said, “because the PKs will be here at 06:00 to secure the facility.”

  It still wasn’t clear to me why the CME was important, but if my uncle was connected to it, I wanted to take it off the board. I had no plans to give it to Donovan. We’d store the CME in a secure location until we could figure out what the hell to do with it. Because it was volatile, the WLA might consider it a public health risk and order it seized. I’d explore all options after I had it safely relocated.

  “You secured the freezer, correct?” I asked.

  “Yes. The unit will keep the CME near freezing temperatures, which will keep it stable,” Dexter said.

  “And the freezer is big enough to hold it all?”

  “Based on my research, yes, but we have no clue how they’ve packaged it. If they put it in boxes, we’d need the equivalent of an Old Earth shipping container.”

  “An 18-wheeler?”

  “Yep, but I doubt it’s in boxes. Probably barrels, which means we’d have some dead space. We’ve got some wiggle room. Standard barrels will most likely fit.”