by Liam Clay
“I’ll drive.” Tikal says.
A few minutes later we’re underway. The GTV’s wheels are so big that it takes a major bump to jostle us, and if you don’t look at the screens, it’s easy to forget we’re moving at all. And none of us do pay attention to them for long, because there’s fuck all to see outside. We are entering the region known as Eraser Valley. No one is quite sure why it’s called that, but the name is an apt one.
This is the dustbowl Opacity tried to reseed for decades, with no results. The terrain is barren, chronically windblown, and crisscrossed by fissures that a smaller vehicle would be unable to navigate. We see the occasional abandoned farmhouse, but these are so old that they appear to be melting back into the earth. Even the tarmac freeway running through the area has been reduced to broken scree.
To pass the time, I blink up the classified mission report that Shion’s people have given us. The document gets off to a boring start, as it covers things every Opacian knows. The Thresh is an independent farming enclave that takes its autonomy very seriously. It sits on a circular patch of unusually fertile land about twenty kilometers in diameter. They have traded with Opacity for decades, but there is little to no migration between the two, mostly because of differing views on the post-human question. Where Opacians favor hormone therapy, cosmetic surgery and vat grown organ replacement, the Threshers embraced the mechanical path long ago. Why can’t we all just get along, etcetera, etcetera.
But then things start to get interesting. It seems that the Thresh is divided up into eighty plots of land, each of which is controlled by a single extended family. And in addition to being protective of their communal autonomy, these families also consider their own fields sacrosanct. Trespassing is likely to get you shot, and generational struggles for territory take place using economic and marriage related tools. An elected council of four handles the enclave’s dealings with the outside world, and these positions are highly sought after. Or were...
I blink out of the doc to find Delez doing the same thing.
“What’s your take?” He asks.
“I think that no matter what we find waiting for us, a warm welcome is out of the question.”
“Agreed. Any ideas on how to play this?”
“I don’t think we have many options. Unless you want to sneak over the wall they’ve built around the place.”
“So we just sidle up to the gates and ask to speak with the council?”
“If they’re still alive, yes.”
The Fractal claps his hands together. “Yet another smashing plan from the boys in black!” (Our new kit is in keeping with the GTV’s prevailing color scheme.) “Just once I’d like to do something that doesn’t involve the seat of my pants. Did our drone reconnaissance turn up anything?”
“No. Whatever happened there, it hasn’t brought down their anti-surveillance system.”
“Awesome. So what are we supposed to do for the next five days?”
“Get frisky with our new ladyfriends as often as possible?”
“I heard that.” Peace says from the front passenger seat. “And I agree.”
Francis groans as the two of them vanish into the back. “I hate traveling with couples. If we stop at even one roadside antique shop, I swear I’m going to lose my shit.”
This elicits a lip twitch from Lucy. But then her eyes flick my way, and she retreats behind her customary blank-faced wall. She obviously doesn’t want to get caught smiling on camera when, according to a subset of my fans, she should be grieving around the clock. I’m tempted to connect with her via the link to say that she doesn’t owe them anything. But that would be an even bigger invasion of privacy than I’m already subjecting her to (and besides, at Ethan's insistence we’ve agreed to reserve the link for active mission situations). So I just sit back, pick some music from my retcom’s database, and settle in for the long haul.
.
The next five days pass rather pleasantly. For anyone looking to avoid discussing the future with their significant other, I recommend black ops missions that could end in both of your violent deaths. Makes apartment hunting seem kind of pointless, but the sex, well... nothing ties you to the moment quite like imminent danger. (Ropes and handcuffs work too, according to Tikal. But there are limits to how kinky you can get in a tiny steel bunk bed, so if possible, try to pick a black ops mission that takes place in a 5-star hotel.)
This interlude is short-lived, however; and before we know it, the squad is gathered in the cockpit waiting for the Thresh to break the horizon. But we have already received our first shock. For the past two hours, the GTV has been traversing ground that looks like it’s been melted by a giant welding torch. None of us have ever seen anything like it.
But after digging through the sub-folders of our briefing document, Peace thinks she knows what happened. Apparently a few years back, one of the major families defied tradition by attempting to cultivate fields beyond the enclave’s borders. That didn’t sit well with the Thresh council though, and they responded by razing the surrounding countryside with chemical flame. Needless to say, this hasn’t endeared them to us much.
The tail end of a dust storm cloaks the border until we’re almost on top of it. I’d been picturing something similar to the Hive’s infamous curtain wall, but this is just a double circle of modular iron fencing. The outer ring is about four meters high; the inner more like six. A closed gate is visible about fifty meters to our right.
Wary of making any move that could be considered hostile, we wait for someone to contact us. When they fail to do so, Delez starts to broadcast the message Shion recorded for us. Beneath the diplomacy, it boils down to ‘Hey guys, how come you stopped returning our calls?’
All we get back is static.
“I guess we go knock on the front door then.” Delez says at last. Backing the GTV up a few meters, he brings us around until we’re facing the gate. “Who wants to do the honors?”
I put my hand up, but the Fractal hesitates. “Are you sure? Maybe it would be better if Peace or -”
“- we’ve already talked about this, Delez. I’m not some coddled star you need to keep out of harm’s way.”
He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Head back to the baseline and I’ll open the door for you.”
I move to the armory niche, but Delez clears his throat before I can pick a weapon.
“It might be better if you went unarmed. They probably have scanners at the gates, and we don’t want to give them the wrong impression. And to be honest, a gun isn’t going to do much good if they decide to kill you.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.” I reply sourly.
“What, wishing you hadn’t been so quick to shit on my attempted coddling?”
“Okay, I may have deserved that. But I’m still going. Anyone else have any parting advice?”
“Try not to blow it?” Peace says. And with these words echoing in my ears, I head to the baseline and step outside for the first time in five days.
The storm has abated. But the air is still thick with dust, so I activate the particle hood attached to my armor. Then I deploy a nanodrone, set it to hover three meters over my head, and start walking. The melted earth is slick beneath my feet. There was a time not too long ago when I would have worried about embarrassing myself by falling. But by now I’ve banged my head, forgotten my keys and gone to the toilet on camera enough times to stop caring what my viewers will think. This is my life, live and uncut. And real life is stupid.
I reach the gate. There are no signs of forced entry or other violence, but no one rushes out to greet me either.
“Hello?” I call out, more timidly than I would have liked. The wind provides the only reply, so I wrap my knuckles against the iron edifice. Then I give it a push. A shower of pebbles falls onto me, and the gate swings inward by half a meter. I should wait for the squad, I know that. But curiosity has me by the balls now. Turning my body sideways, I edge through into the Thresh.
CHAPTER 3
I may have just stepped back in time. The buildings to either side of me are made of slatted wood. Their signs have been painted with dark pitch, and hitching posts (like, for horses) front many of them. I do see a few examples of modern technology - an automated pallet mover here, an irrigation system repair drone there - but they have all been designed to blend into their surroundings. A thick layer of dust covers everything, completing the impression of an old frontier ghost town.
A muddy road connects the border gate to a large brick building about two hundred meters away. Switching to droneview, I send the device circling up into the sky. From this perspective, the wild west aesthetic is ruined somewhat. Behind their wooden facades, the buildings are actually warehouses constructed with modern materials. The brick structure appears to be a transport station; twinned tracks emerge from its far side and disappear into the enclave’s interior.
Activating the link, I say, “Are you guys seeing this?”
“Sure are.” Peace replies. “No wonder they don’t let outsiders visit - I'll never be able to take them seriously again.”
“I kind of like it.” Delez says. “Very rustic. Have you seen any signs of life, though?”
“No, and it’s starting to feel kind of weird.” I put the drone back on sentry duty and set out down the street. “You guys coming or what?”
I sense Tikal’s confirmation through the link. “We’ll lock down the GTV and meet you at the train station.”
“I would advise against leaving the vehicle behind.” Amy chimes in over audio comms.
Francis chuckles affectionately (he’s taken a liking to our little duplicate genius). “I agree that it’s a shame to ditch such a sweet ride, but we can’t just smash the gates down and drive right in there.”
“Why not?”
“Because that would be, like, an act of war or something.”
“Based on what we’ve seen so far, I doubt that will be an issue.”
“Still, though.” Francis says, floundering a little now. But the squad takes his side, and they start to close up the GTV as I approach the station.
It’s a strange building: elegant in its own way, and completely undamaged, but there is something sad about abandoned public spaces. I pass through a high-ceilinged lobby, jump a wrought-iron turnstile, and step onto a platform between the two tracks. Weathered pillars frame a square of hazy sky at the station’s far end.
I’m looking for a bench to sit on when I hear the sound. Glancing down the tracks, I see a mote of silver fire hovering in space. Before I can fully register this information, a smaller but otherwise identical hallucination appears beside it. Trains, I realize, coming in hot.
“Guys...”
“We see them.” Tikal says grimly. “Give us three minutes.”
But the first train is already pulling into the station. A sleek bullet sheathed in reflective silver cladding, it floats a meter above the ground on magnetic buffers. I step behind a pillar as the vehicle comes to a stop. A man jumps down from the cab. At least I think it’s a man. If he was hunched over any more he’d be on all fours, and his left leg drags behind him, raising sparks off the bricks with every step. I can’t tell if he is panting with exertion, moaning in fear, or mumbling to himself. All of the above, maybe. He isn’t a particularly imposing figure, but his fear is infectious, and I find myself wishing for a better place to hide.
The second train glides to a stop. The woman who disembarks is talking to herself too; but unlike the man she moves with speed and purpose, trailing after him like a vengeful spirit. There is something off about her right arm. It appears to divide in three at the elbow, and the angles are all wrong as well. Her head is on a swivel (maybe literally, for all I know) and as she passes my pillar, her eyes flick my way. I flinch away from the raw madness there, but she barely seems to notice my presence.
“I see you!” She calls to her quarry. “There will soon be one less voice in the shadows, always whispering, whispering.”
The man wails and redoubles his efforts. But his mech-leg is completely mangled, and in a few steps the woman is on him. It makes no sense for me to intervene. I have no weapons, no backup, and no idea what the story is between these two. This guy could be an ax murderer or a child kidnapper. But the next thing I know, I’m standing in front of him with my hands held out.
“Wait!”
The woman stops. Up close, her mech-arm is revealed to be a three-pronged vice with telescoping pincers. It is probably a specialized farming tool, but on her it looks like something from the 7th depth of hell. The implement locks into a ceramic socket sutured to the flesh of her upper arm.
Until this point, the woman’s gaze has remained locked on her prey. But now, with a noticeable effort, she shifts her attention to me. I wish she hadn’t. Her eyes are mismatched - one hazel, one metallic gray - and the latter spins in its socket like a top about to run out of spin.
“You aren’t one of them.” She says. I shake my head mutely. “Then I have no quarrel with you.”
In the coming days, I will replay the next section of my feed dozens of times, trying to find a root motive for my actions. Now that she sounds halfway sane, I allow myself to relax. Then, without warning, she swings her mech-arm at me with all her strength. I throw myself out of the way, rolling over in time to see one of the pincers lodge itself in the man’s head. He goes into convulsions, saliva dribbling from cracked lips...
And I lose it.
Flowing to my feet, I grab the woman’s mech-arm by the base and wrench it around. Steel screams against ceramic, and the device comes free with a jarring pop. Whatever has taken hold of me is primordial and ugly and terrifyingly strong. My body obeys its commands without question, burying all three pincers in the woman’s gut. Her real eye goes so wide that I can see a forest of blood vessels around the margins. The other stares blankly into vector space. And then she smiles.
“The voices. They’re gone!”
And then she dies.
The squad arrives a minute later. But with the exception of Amy, all of them experienced my unraveling first-hand through the link. Just like my viewers did.
.
We sleep in one of the ghost town’s warehouses that night. I am in no state to travel, and the others aren’t doing much better. Amy insists on disposing of the bodies, and everyone is so distraught that they let her. I find myself a corner well away from the others. They let me go, but I wake up hours later to find Tikal sitting beside me.
“Don’t do it, Anex.”
“Do what?”
“Demonize yourself again. You saw something terrible happen. You reacted. End of story.”
“I lost control, Tikal. Completely. And if it can happen once, who knows when it might again?”
“Probably the next time someone tries to decapitate you with a steel claw.”
“She wasn’t aiming for me.”
“You didn’t know that. And don’t tell me I wasn’t there, because I was. We all were. And you know what? Every single one of us has done something similar.”
“Even Francis and Lucy?”
“Yes, even Francis and Lucy. One caught a man raping a teenage hooker in a nightclub bathroom, and tore his back open to the ribs with a pair of scissors. The other saw their mom’s new boyfriend hitting her, and smashed his face in with a chopping board. I won’t tell you who did what, because it doesn’t matter. The point is, when you see shit like that happen, sometimes you just snap. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.” She shakes her head. “And hell, it’s not like you haven’t been through this stuff before. You killed an entire roomful of people just a few months ago.”
“That was premeditated and probably necessary. And I told myself it was a one-time thing. But this...”
“Was different, I know. And I also know that you’re going to obsess over it no matter what I say.” She climbs to her feet, but continues to stare down at me. “You want my opinion, though? You should be thanking your bloody maker for those su
rvival instincts of yours. People would kill to be able to kill as well as you did today.”
“You just want me to believe that the world is full of monsters. But this isn’t a bell curve, Tikal. Being surrounded by other killers doesn’t make what I am normal.”
She sighs. “Look Anex, I know you’re trying to turn over a new leaf, be a better person and all that shit. And I respect the effort you’re putting into it. But you also have an obligation to this mission. And if you’re going to make it out here, you need to get it through your head that the world is fucked. Half the people you meet will be starving, and the other half will assume you’re starving, and try to kill you to protect what they’ve got. Nothing out here is pretty, no one plays nice, and the sooner you accept that the better. So it’s time to decide. If you aren’t prepared to do what it takes - exactly like you did today - then you should go back to Opacity right now.”
“Wow.” I mutter. “That’s some tough love right there.”
“Better get used to it - I don’t know how to do any other kind.” Her eyes flash in the dark, and then she leaves me alone.
CHAPTER 4
The next morning, I do my best to act like nothing is wrong. I’m putting on a show and everyone knows it, but the others work hard to perpetuate the illusion. There’s not much else we can do. As for me, I already know what my own coping process will look like.
The memory will be a constant ache for a few days, the Thresh woman’s face never far from my thoughts. But her image will fade as other concerns vie for attention, until the killing is just one more black moment in my already dark past. I hate how predictable I am, how little this is going to truly affect me. But what other choice do I have? Maybe I do just need to toughen up. Because like Tikal said, no one else we meet is likely to suffer these same pangs of conscience.