Apotheosis Boom (The Feedback Loop Book 8)

by Harmon Cooper

  “Got it, I can play nice with Thun too, then, on the account she has an absent husband.”

  “Empress Thun,” Sophia reminds me.

  ~*~

  Once we’re done clearing the killing field, we move up to Ray Steampunk’s floating steamboat. It's not a bad way to travel, a little less rocky than the flying ships that they have here in Tritania, but the boiler room, which Ray likes to show off, is hotter than a World Cup stadium in Qatar.

  “This is where it all happens,” the expressionless Steampunk tells us, a wave of his hand over the tin metal droids loading wood into a furnace. Another tin droid stands in front of a long table cutting up bits of pork and throwing the fattiest pieces in with the wood.

  “What’s with the pork?”

  “Burning the fat makes the steamboat go faster,” Ray says to me, his chin held high.

  “Hey, Evan, you missed a piece,” I tell one of the droids.

  Sophia sighs with disdain. “Real funny.”

  Doc starts talking about an engine that would make more sense, but Ray all but ignores the War Faun as he leads us back to the main deck. Frances waits up at the top with Rocket, who sits on a barrel, his hands on his knees. Chrono isn’t too far away either, enjoying the view.

  “Some morning, huh?” I say to Aiden as I scoot up next to him. It’s been a good morning already – who doesn’t love a victory? – but I keep having this feeling like there’s more to all this, that Strata has us pegged and we just don’t know it yet.

  And then there’s Colorado: I know we’re supposed to be there, not here, or better, not in Baltimore. I just have to figure out a way to make a trip to the Rockies happen.

  Morning Assassin leans against the railing, his mask off for once, a sly grin on his face as he blows a big pink bubble.

  “Where’d you get gum?” I ask him.

  “Your cigar, remember?”

  “Got any left?”

  He blows a big bubble and lets it pop against his face. “Nope.”

  Once we near Ultima Thule, I cut a long story short about how I once played a trick on Two-Face Charlie and Fat Tony in the Marcy Projects, a goof that involved a whoopie cushion filled with bull semen and a coffin filled with thumbtacks and poison ivy.

  “Gruesome and sticky.”

  “Sounds like it,” says Aiden.

  “How can you two sit around talking when we’re rewarded with such a stunning view!” says Chrono, Zangief’s brother from another mother.

  “Yeah, yeah, a city with yurts. You could find that in Central Asia if you looked hard enough.”

  Regardless of my snark, I slowly make my way to the railing to peek over the side. Pretty cool seeing Athos again, the capital of Ultima Thule. Last time we were here, we weren’t able to hit any of the tourist shops.

  I’m hoping this time will be different, but I have this itching feeling that we’re only here on business.

  Still, if I don’t comment on it, who will?

  “Heya, Sofe, we planning on paying that commie cupid and the Sage a visit? Love to visit a gift shop too. Adolf bin Laden told me to bring him a present.”

  “Who?” She looks at me incredulously. “You still don’t know why we’re here? What have you been doing all this time? You should have been reading the itinerary!”

  I shrug. “Relax a little, why don’t ya? I was telling a story that involved mutating bull semen, for your info, and I’m pretty sure no one here has heard the story before.”

  “I’ve heard it,” Aiden interjects.

  “Really?”

  “You told it to me once before you killed me. Well, I was partially dead. Remember the time you cuffed my hands together and cut off my legs, cauterizing the wounds?”

  “Darth Maul’s lightsaber, item 251? God, I like using that one.”

  He nods. “You told me the whole story while I flopped around your hotel room.”

  “Hey! I remember that. You tried to bite me. Shit, that must have been during one of my Riotous hazes. Can’t blame me for those. Drugs are bad, mkay.”

  “This is a terrible idea.” Sophia moves past Doc with her arms crossed over her chest.

  Frances looks over at me and tries not to crack a grin. She fails, and instead of admitting defeat, she turns away, giving me a clear shot of her derriere.

  “Right back at you,” I say under my breath.

  Damn if she doesn’t redefine classy chassis in her sexy Robin Hood get-up. What I wouldn’t give to get back under that hood...

  I give the back of her head just about the stupidest smile I can muster, and nearly lose my footing as the steamboat settles. On land. What the hell kind of steamboat actually lands on land? Ray Steampunk’s boat, that’s what.

  We’re behind a wall, that much I can make out, but the rest of the city of Athos is obscured by a thick, murky fog. About all I can make out is a pair of dragons perched on a walkway, their Thulean attendants not far from them.

  I get the notion to re-equip my Reaper mask, aware that this will let me see their ghost limbs, but I decide against it.

  Ps and Qs, best behavior, Mrs. Hughes’ Bright and Shining Ball of Joy.

  Besides, if I keep on best behavior, I may graduate to Frances’ bedroom before they finally secure some housing for me.

  She said earlier that she’d put in a request (not for her bedroom; for a new crib). A place to call my own would be nice, a bachelor pad of sorts, but truth is, I kind of like staying at Ol’ Euphoria’s spot.

  What can I say? Her place is comfy, smells like muffins and vanilla, and there’s always the chance that the hotbody in the next room may invite me for a sleepover.

  I walk the plank or whatever the hell the staircase leading down from Ray’s steamboat is called, where we’re greeted by a damn procession of Thuleans, more than I’ve ever seen in my life.

  I’m guessing the Emperor is the one in the middle, and standing to his right is the Empress followed by all their girl children, including Princess Renata, who glares at me fiercely. The others royal brats don’t seem to care that I’m there, all aside from the last one, who has a short orange bob, and is staring at me just as viciously as her older sister.

  The Emperor speaks in gibberish, I mean Thulean, for a moment, and Ray Steampunk simply nods. Almost at once, Sophia begins translating.

  “The Emperor is introducing his wife and his female children, Renata…” I tune her out as each of the lizard princesses glances at me and bow their heads. All but that last one.

  “And this is Princess Zaena,” Sophia finally says.

  I quickly fire off a message to the Dream Team.

  Me: Why do I get the feeling that little Princess Z would rather slit my throat than meet me?

  Frances Euphoria: Maybe because you beat her sister in the giant tournament?

  Rocket: Ah, context clues! Aren’t they great?

  Me: It was a fair fight. Wait. No it wasn’t. She had it coming. Wait. No she didn’t. But, I did what I had to do.

  Frances Euphoria: Keep telling yourself that.

  Sophia: YOUR MESSAGES ARE DISTRACTING ME.

  Doc: Sophia, one more outburst like that and I’m permanently disabling ALL CAPS.

  I smile at the little one known as Princess Zaena, giving her a shit-eating grin that says, ‘you don’t want it with me.’

  The king of all Thuleans looks to the males on his right, each guy as fit as the next; the only real way to distinguish them being their tattoos, hair styles and height.

  “The Emperor would like to introduce the males in his family…” Sophia translates. I quickly tune her out as I look again at the line of princesses. They are cute in an Avatar-meets-green-skinned-woman kind of way. Cool armor too.

  Not that last one, though.

  I swear her nostrils flare when she catches me looking at her again.

  “Easy, kid,” I say under my breath as she bares her teeth.

  “Zaena,” Princess Renata says out of the corner of her mouth, “enough.”
/>   I give the small, orange-haired princess a smug look. Yeah, that’s right, I think to her, there’s a hierarchy and I’m part of it.

  Nothing like being a princess to a princess.

  ~*~

  I figure I should give the Thulean Empress some flowers, so I equip my bouquet of rare Kadupul flowers, item 166, which causes quite a stir. The princesses all spit, and three of the younger Thulean princes draw their swords and aim them at me.

  Holy shit, and here I am trying to be a nice guy, I think as I scroll behind my back to my closest shooting iron, which happens to be item 133, an IOF .32 revolver with .32 S&W long cartridges.

  I equip it, and notice that Doc has equipped a pistol as well.

  We exchanged glances as Ray Steampunk steps forward, telling us both to put our bean shooters away.

  “I believe there is some confusion on the commoner’s part,” Steampunk says. “He doesn't know how Thuleans despise flowers as gifts.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know that?” I ask incredulously.

  Sophia clears her throat, loudly, so loudly that it causes her to cough. “Itinerary,” she finally manages to say. “And briefings.”

  “Point taken.” I throw the flowers behind my back.

  The Thulean Emperor smiles at all of us. “An understandable mistake. There is much to discuss, so let's cast any more confusion to the side and consider them commoner-driven errors in diplomacy. Now, as we all know, forces are gathering outside Athos. Did you happen to see them when you came in?”

  A couple of the Knights nod; Chrono raises his hand, as does Frances.

  I keep my hand down. What can I say? I was telling a story about a whoopee cushion filled with semen on the way over to the Thulean capital. It was a crazy story damn it, and I didn’t see much else.

  “The Reaper forces are threatening to not only attack the Sage, who, as you know, resides in the center of Athos, but they have also released a threat saying that they will follow up with,” the Emperor swallows hard, “a source code bomb. Commoners, RPCs, and NPCs – Thuleans are well-versed in all of these various modes of existence. And we recognize that the Reapers and this type of attack are a threat to our very existence.”

  Seats form out of the ground; the Thuleans take the seats across from us, the youngest of the bunch still maddoggin’ me. Too bad the chairs are stuck in the ground, it sure would be nice to turn one around so I could rest my arms across the seat back.

  I look up to see a large, white sphere hovering in the sky. The sphere begins to descend, and eventually settles to our right.

  The top of the sphere melts away, revealing, of all people, Empress Thun, who's wearing a completely white bodysuit – scratch that, I think that they just painted her body white, because I can totally see her nipples and the lips of her vajajay.

  “Had I known that was a clothing option,” I start to say, much to Sophia’s horror. “And besides that, where are her royal attendants?”

  Every time I've seen her, Empress Thun has enough servants around her to change a lightbulb. Wait, I think that is a Reaper joke, but still, it seems like the woman has never done a single damn thing herself, and I'd be surprised if she didn't have bathroom attendants as well, professional ass-wipers. And how come everyone is Emperor or Empress around here? Confuses me.

  “I have come alone to show you all how serious I am about this issue,” Empress Thun says. “Further, your swift victory against the Reapers in Hyperborea is noted and appreciated.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. “All we are missing at this point is the Sage, I mean, shouldn't he care if his whole world is about to be destroyed?”

  “Are you really that dumb?” Sophia asks me.

  I look to Frances for some support, but she doesn't give it, so I look to Doc, who's scratching his furry faun belly. I glance at Aiden and he shrugs, and from there I look to Chrono for support, who pretends he didn’t hear my question.

  I finally look to Rocket, who gives me a thumbs up.

  He's a good kid, dammit.

  “I am the Sage,” Empress Thun says. “The Sage is every NPC, PC and RPC, for that matter.”

  “So I’m the Sage too?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “Who knew? I sure as shit don’t feel like the Sage,” I tell her, again hoping for support from my team and getting none. Since this is getting pretty philosophical, I go ahead and take a step back, let the adults do the talking for once.

  Not gonna lie: I'm more interested in kicking Reaper ass and driving a stake into Strata’s heart than I am having Socratic discussions. So I keep my trap shut for the next two minutes, listening as the Empress, or the Sage, whoever, has a long, drawn-out conversation with the Thuleans. She begins with their rich history, and explains everything that has happened up until the present.

  If I were ten years younger, I may have coughed bullshit into my hand, because all this is made up anyway, but I'm not an asshole, at least not any longer, and I don't want to see Tritania go anywhere.

  It’s no secret that Tritania and me ain’t exactly friends, but if it makes people happy, I got no problem with it. Besides, my beef lies with Strata Godsick, and eventually, the powers that be get around to discussing him, which is right around the time my ears perk up.

  “Godsick’s son is in Tritania, and he has been for a very long time. He lives on Turtle Island, with the Lost Boys,” Sophia explains to everyone who doesn’t already know, as well as Yours Truly, who forgets easily. “The Lost Boys are people who are permalogged into the Proxima Galaxy, many by choice. Luther Godsick is their leader.”

  “We know that part,” I remind her. “Cut to the good stuff.”

  Sophia goes on to explain why he's here, detailing how he discovered that his father was murdering people and using them to increase his power. I’m surprised to see that Luther isn’t at this meeting, but I realize having this much concentrated power in one place at one time is a great way to get attacked or ambushed.

  “So we unite all forces against them,” Ray Steampunk finally says. “There are rivalries and territorial families, as well as various factions in Tritania, but we’ll bring all of them together, all of them to Ultima Thule to finish off the Reapers. Doc, care to talk about our real-world plan?”

  The Faun of War steps forward, his little tail flickering. “We're going to take out the Meridian Circuit to stop Strata from having so much power. The Meridian Circuit is a group of fifty players who have given their lives to Strata, which is why he’s so powerful here, as well as the rest of the Proxima Galaxy. The Circuit constantly pours all of their energy into his avatar, which allows him, through various machinations that Ray Steampunk had a hand in creating, to do almost anything he pleases, from modifying the OMIB to enslaving players.”

  “I do take credit for the invention, but not for Strata’s sake, for the sake of research.”

  “Pretty sure the guys who invented nukes felt the same way,” I say, looking to Rocket for support.

  The kid appeases me again with a big ol’ thumbs up.

  “Can he bring what is in the OMIB here?” the Thulean Emperor asks.

  “Only by detonating a source code bomb. If he does that, there are things the Proxima company may be able to do to him, but there is no real way to recover the world aside from rebuilding it from scratch.”

  “And believe you me, everyone here doesn’t want to stick around in a world hit by a source code bomb. It ain’t right; take it from the guy who was trapped in one for a spell.”

  The young Princess Zaena rolls her eyes at me. I roll my eyes back. She sticks her tongue out, and I do the same.

  “I do wish there were more support from the Proxima company,” says Ray Steampunk, mild agitation in his voice.

  “You and me both, Ray. Why aren’t they getting more involved with this? Why do they remain this big mysterious corporation that doesn't tell us anything, and doesn't give us any assistance? Shouldn't they be concerned about this? Shouldn’t they give a
damn?”

  “They do,” Frances tells me, “but they rarely drop the ban hammer.”

  “What a shitty company,” I mumble. “And we’ve told them several times what’s going on, right?”

  “I personally have reached out to my contacts there,” says Steampunk. “Which is why, you'll notice, you didn't receive a life bar penalty when you used your off-world weapons today. You're already at the highest level that you can be at, so they can't do much there, but they were able to remove those limitations.”

  “I'm not trying to get greedy here, I'm just wondering what their role is in all this, and why they’re not hooking us up?”

  No one answers, which I take as a sign that I should get back on my high horse. Or maybe I was already on the high horse and I should get off. Point is, I think for once everyone agrees with me: Why isn't the stinking Proxima company involved?

  “I hate to say that Steamboy brings up a good point,” Doc finally says, “but I don't think we're going to be able to get support from them, and since the Dream Team is a federally funded team, we're just going to have to do things our way.”

  “I will start moving all of my forces in Polynya to Ultima Thule,” Empress Thun says. “I believe we will have a fairly good turnout, and we can put rewards out for players who would like to join our cause. The governors of Aramis now owe us a favor for the way you all prevented their city from coming under siege, a favor we can utilize in the coming battle.”

  “What about the giants in Waringtla?” Rocket asks. “I would love to see some giant action. That didn't come out right, what I meant is some giants kicking-ass action, not giants having sex. Sorry, I'm not usually one that speaks in these meetings.”

  I start to laugh, catch a dirty look from Frances, and zip my kisser shut.

  The Thulean Emperor clears his throat. “Similar to the catacombs beneath Polynya, there are caverns and connected passageways under the boroughs of Ultima Thule. There are entrances to these passageways along the southern coast, and I believe it would be smart for us to send as many of our bravest warriors into these passageways as we can, as one of their main exit points is directly behind where the Reapers have started gathering their forces.”