by J M Guillen
It seems as if the passage gets a bit narrower up ahead. I broke into a trot, hoping to create a little distance from my cadre. There’s a large formation of stone, about seven meters high. The waypoint icon points between it and the wall.
Understood, Hoss. We’re starting to move now. Don’t get lost.
I don’t plan on it.
The stone jutted from the smooth cavern floor, surrounded by a small hill of scree and powdery soil. I pushed myself closer to the wall on the left, warily letting my gaze flick up the rock, searching for any signs of danger.
For a moment, I powered down the Wraith and toggled my optics. I figured if any otherworldly abominations lurked up there, I’d be able to see them in the infrared.
“Nope.” The change in perception showed me other, small formations of stone scattered about, some of them nearly half as tall as this first one.
No horrific abominations lurked anywhere around.
I checked out the small hill with my optics. It’s clean; you can pass safely. I paused. I’m moving on.
I slid forward, between the grouping of stones and the wall. I hadn’t taken three strides before I heard a faint, chugging sound, echoing crookedly in the darkness.
I stopped in place, listening. Machinery?
Michael. The scarcest touch of warning colored Anya’s link. You are approaching a zone of slight axiomatic variations. It begins approximately sixty-five meters in front of you.
In the direction of the waypoint marker?
Affirmative.
Any danger?
There is a variable of .23 from ambient Rationality within that area. Nothing serious, just a softening of axiomatic obduracy.
So physics is a bit fluid here? It might be slightly easier for some Irrat to alter stuff.
Affirmative. Note the interference we seek is emanating from approximately the same location.
That ain’t right, Wyatt interjected. That thing didn’t read that far away earlier.
True. Anya paused for a moment, and her head twitched as she performed calculations. Yet accurate. I cannot say why the differential exists.
I’m pushing forward, I informed them. I won’t engage any hostiles on my own. I flicked on the Wraith. Promise.
The chugging sound became louder as I strode forward, sounding vaguely like a stuttering chainsaw trying to chew through a petrified corpse. As the noise became louder, an inexplicable unease settled over me, like warm grease running down my skin.
I felt my own pulse thrum in my temples. I wiped sweat from my brow as I studied the shadows before me. Wrong. They clustered, lurking around…
There’s a structure up here.
A building? Wyatt sounded a touch distracted.
More like a device, like an engine.
Weird. Copy that.
I drew both Stilettos. As I shuffled forward, the innate wrongness of the construction became painfully apparent. It hurt my mind to look at it, even to consider looking at it. The darkness around it shifted as I grew closer, as if attempting to block my view.
I made out bits of the silhouette of that monolithic device, only half revealed. Even though I couldn’t see any true details, , the sheer wrongness of the unearthly shape offended me.
I felt as if I gazed at something which should not be.
The machine had an insectine, organic feel to its curves, shapes which half-lurked in darkness. If I positioned my head just so, I could see the lower left side of it undulate. The machine moved like a living thing, breathing out fumes like mist in the shadows.
As I stared through those shadows, I made out figures moving around the device.
We have company. I flittered my gaze around the incomprehensible machine, snatching still shots as my Crown perceived them. I sent those images in a patch. Finally, I made certain to capture an image showing four silhouettes, graceful figures that moved around the base of the machine.
Interesting, Wyatt linked. Just the four?
So far. Hold on a moment. I’ll get a better look.
I trotted forward and made my way to one of those ragged formations of stone. Once there, I crouched, trying to keep hidden. I took a breath and powered the Wraith down again.
Without the Wraith, color bled back into my vision. Again, that greenish light suffused the world, sickly and wan.
The moment my optics came back online, I toggled the controls to narrow the scope. This allowed me to squint to enhance my vision as if I used a pair of binoculars.
Well?
There’s a few more than four. I flicked my gaze to the left, trying to peer through the darkness that surrounded the loathsome structure. Six maybe? The entire area is hard to make out. It seems as if the machine is cloaked in a particularly dark smoke.
Smoke? I felt Anya purse her lips. I neither smell smoke nor detect combustion.
It’s not exactly smoke. I studied the shadowy darkness, watching as it wafted and whirled around the uncanny device. It reminded me of a cloud of ink left in the water by an octopus.
That misty twilight moved, as if it consciously chose to block my sight.
Regardless of what it is, I can’t get a good view from my current location. I scowled, knowing they would feel it over the link. I have to get closer.
Regulations state that a single Asset should not approach a hostile location.
Christ, Anya. Wyatt’s frustration bled through freely. This entire place is a hostile location. I felt the large man heave his shoulders as he sighed. Although, Hoss, she ain’t wrong.
Unless you can use that turkey baster on your back to somehow make the two of you invisible, I don’t see another way.
Huh, Wyatt mused. I mean, you’d hafta alter the way light interacts with matter, a lot, like the Wraith does.
I cannot imagine we have time to work out the mathematics on more experimental algorithms, Anya cut in.
I’ll drop an Asset marker where I currently stand. I executed the command within my Crown, choosing a pulsing blue circle for my locale. You can approach this location safely. I’ve visually cleared everything to this point.
You’re going on, then? Wyatt asked.
I am, I confirmed. I toggled the Wraith and watched as color drained from the world. I won’t engage any hostiles, at least not on purpose.
I concur this is the most optimal choice, Anya linked. I advise that you attempt to follow the emanations to their source.
Copy that, I agreed. It seems to have drifted down a bit more as I’ve approached. Just not as abrupt this time.
We’re on the move, Hoss.
I stalked on, sticking close to the shadows.
The more I examined the unnatural structure ahead of me, the more my stomach roiled with uncertain queasiness. It felt as if the shadowed machinery somehow sloped downward from me, into a vast and unnatural chasm. Vertigo swam through my body, forcing me to stop every few meters to regain my composure.
Until it rippled.
With a sound that began like the creaking of a falling tree and ended with metal grinding on metal, the structure in front of me… moved. Like some monstrous behemoth, it shifted to one side, as if rolling over in its sleep.
What. The. Hell? I gaped at the apparatus.
Hoss? What the hell happened? You square?
I’m green, I linked reflexively. It’s that contraption; the mechanism stirred. I still can’t quite make out what it is.
Terrifyin’, from the sound of it. He paused. Watch yerself.
Yes, keep us apprised, Anya linked.
“Kasar Dhuun,” a baritone voice opined from the shadows to my left. “Khabac Du Sava.”
Slowly, I turned in that direction. After a moment, my vision adjusted to the pitch of the shadows. Two figures crouched, scarcely silhouetted against the ghastly light of the room, not ten steps from me.
“Sen dun Khabac.” This quieter, feminine voice spoke urgently. The figure gestured toward the undulating machinery and made a curt slash with her hand. “Kava.”
> I sighed. If only my Crown had translation neuralware, this might be simpler. Supposedly, that enhancement would be included in our next update.
Of course, I doubted this language had terrestrial origins, rendering the question moot.
Still though.
“Dim Khadast. Dim Quavar.” The baritone stood abruptly and threw both of his hands up. He stomped off in the direction of the uncanny structure.
“Risa Kab!” The smaller figure pleaded as she stood. She pursued him, desperation in her tone.
Quietly, I ghosted after them.
“Kara dun Khabiis!” The feminine figure put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off and continued forward.
I drew a bit closer. If anything, their drama would make a good cover for any noise I made.
As we stepped toward the chuffing machinery, I saw the couple more clearly. The skin of each graceful figure drank any available light, darker than pitch, darker than space. If not for the stark white robes they wore, they would be infinite sable, lost to the shadows. I stared at their smooth, hairless pates and the contrast of the simple robes with the darkest black I’d never imagined.
“Kavarri Din!” She whirled in front of him, again pleading. With her left hand, she gestured wildly before them.
“Kara,” he said in a firm, almost consoling tone. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Dul Kajani Kor. Sadhana. Hast Kava Vyriim. Hast Kava Thorne.”
I stopped in place at the last syllable. Had I heard right? As in Dr. Thorne?
The male strode onward, the discussion ended. After a moment the woman followed, striding straight into those shifting shadows.
I trotted after, trying to keep them in sight.
We’ve made your marker, Hoss. Wyatt’s link startled me. You didn’t get that far ahead of us.
I’m following some natives. I sent them a couple of stills from my Crown. I hope they’ll lead to something that matters.
Michael, Anya’s link slipped in. On those images, I see the… mist swirl behind them as they pass.
Mist? Wyatt asked. The shadow… stuff?
If the substance swirls as you move through it, the Wraith becomes less valuable.
Right. I chewed my lip. Thanks, Anya. I’ll keep close on these two. Maybe it won’t be as noticeable in their wake.
“Kavatta.” Another male voice sounded from ahead, stern and loud. “Risa, Kara. Jin Kavatta lo.”
“Ki.” The male I’d followed nodded, and the three moved deeper into the shadows.
Closer to the baffling, bizarre machine.
My initial impression of the metallic construct proved true. The plates looked every bit the chitin of some great insect. The device also bore a certain grace, a feline curve that ran along its side. Gears taller than I stood turned slowly, and exhaust pipes released sulfuric steam. Occasionally, brilliant sparks fired along its surface.
The marker for Locale One was almost underfoot.
The trio I followed stepped up to a small dais. The older gentlemen spoke to his companions, a muffled word.
Without touching the surface of the structure, an opening came into view, more an orifice than a door. One moment, it appeared as any other part of the construct. The next, an interior passage hissed open.
Oh man, I linked, certain of my next move.
Yeah? Wyatt felt a touch distracted. ’Sup, Hoss?
Seems like I’m headed inside.
What?
As the three paced forward, I hurried toward the opening, not wanting to try the door myself. For all I knew it only opened due to weird alien telepathy or by some genetic key code. Then, once they closed it, I’d be left on the outside.
If that happened, I’d never reach the marker, and we’d be stuck.
What choice did I have?
I slipped inside.
3
Within the device, the air smelled of ozone, like the wind after a storm.
Inside what?
Michael, please report.
I’m inside the structure. I stood against the wall of a narrow, rounded corridor, several steps behind those I’d followed. The gunmetal surface of the hall contained occasional accents in silver. The entire interior glowed with brilliant, crackling electric lights.
The robed figures strode forward purposefully.
That sounds brilliant, Hoss.
It’s worse than you think, I informed him. I feel jittery. The Wraith needs a rest.
The organic structure burned with radiant light from brilliant orbs situated every one and a half meters. They simply hung in the air, attached to neither the ceiling nor the walls.
Don’t know if you realize this, buddy, Wyatt drawled, but without the Wraith, you ain’t invisible no more.
No, I get it. The jitters remained preferable to being seen. For now.
Michael, you stand twenty-three meters from the origin of the emanations. It appears to be somewhat below you.
Right. I gazed at the triangle marker down to my left and listened to the door close behind me. Now that I stood within the construct, my vertigo receded. I’m uncertain of how I’ll get out, but I’ve made it in.
Leave another marker, Hoss?
At my current coordinates? I engaged my Crown and dropped a new token where I stood.
Right. That way, after you die of terminal stupidity, we might be able to find the way inside.
Ha. Ha. I scowled at him. I’m moving forward.
I eased down the corridor until I caught sight of a small group of figures.
“Kavak.” The newest gentleman, the older one, spoke intently to his two companions. His voice rumbled deeper than the others and rang with the steel of authority.
“Savava.” The female nodded abruptly and stepped through another door I hadn’t noted at first.
I crept closer and captured stills of both men. Both bald with skin darker than anything I’d ever seen, they wore pristinely white robes. In fact, now that I examined them…
Check this out. I sent the images to my cadre, focusing upon the scripts embroidered around the hem of the sleeves. Seem familiar?
These symbols are stylistically identical to those we noted upon the large creatures we faced earlier.
Yup, Wyatt confirmed. I still got those images in my Crown. Same icons.
So perhaps these gentlemen are allied with our large friends, I mused. I remembered thinking those behemoths could never scrawl that script with those gargantuan fingers.
“You boys ’bout ready down here?” a male voice drawled from the side passage. “Gettin’ pretty tired of waitin’.”
Both men tensed; the older one couldn’t quite hold back a scowl.
“Ree-dey,” the younger man called toward the unseen voice. “Comb now.” He walked through the door.
The older man stared after him for just a moment, fist clenched. Then he turned directly toward me and stalked straight for the doorway we’d just passed through.
Carefully, oh so carefully, I slipped out of the way and let him pass. The door opened, and he stamped through, fuming.
What was that all about?
“I gotta know when the next cycle’s gonna be ready,” the same male voice drawled. “How ’bout you and sweetness here head below and find out the particulars?”
Silent, I edged forward.
That entryway didn’t lead into another passage but to an organically rounded chamber with metal lockers and a door on the opposite side. Three light-complexioned men, dressed in riot gear like the professionals we’d seen before, sat at a wooden table in the corner. One, a lanky, appallingly pale man with a wild shock of hair and a bumper crop of freckles, stood and spoke pointedly to the two robed figures.
Did I… know him? I stared at the man, desperate to focus on anything other than the jitters from overusing the Wraith.
“Eet ees steel sleepinguh,” the feminine figure responded. “For times.”
In the background, one of the men at the table mocked her, exaggeratingly mouthing her
words to one of his tablemates.
“There ain’t more time,” Lanky grunted. “We got problems here, big ones. Go down there, find out when the Parabola’s cycle ends, and report back.”
“Yas,” the male said. “We well goo belo.” He took the female’s wrist and led her toward the opposite door.
The man nearest the door leaned to open it without leaving his seat or breaking his grinning sneer.
“Number six, reporting in,” a voice buzzed mechanically at Lanky’s hip. He snatched at the boxy device.
“Moshi moshi, Collins,” the freckled man greeted, surprising me with Japanese. Then he leaned toward the door just as the bald female followed her companion through. And pushed it securely closed.
“Japanese? Someone’s there, huh?” He waited a beat. “We clear?” the voice buzzed.
“We are now. Secure channel,” Lanky responded. “The Kabs just went downstairs.”
“We got nothin’ on the Gentlemen, Firenzei.” Confusion lay heavy in those words. “I mean that. There’s quite a bit of blood, even corpses. Brooks is dead. Edmund got his skull liquefied, and John got cooked alive.”
“But no fucking Silent Gentlemen. No Assets. Not even one body?”
“I’m telling you, man. No sight of Thorne either. I wonder if they took her.”
“Nobody takes Thorne anywhere.” Firenzei chuckled darkly. “Take another look around; you’ll find evidence she jaunted off.”
At that, one of the men sitting in the room gave a little huff of laughter.
Another, a slender man with a scar above his eye, turned to the fellow sitting next to him.
“She fucking went Earthside,” he hissed. “Left us here to rot.”
“Boys,” Firenzei warned. “Daddy’s on the phone. Be quiet.”
“You called it,” the voice crackled over the box. “She took a huge divot out of the floor.”
“It’d been nice if she happened to take our Asset problem with her.” Firenzei ran his free hand through his wild hair. “You sure you got nothin’, Aaron? Not outside neither?”
“We haven’t been too far outside,” Aaron confirmed. “Those caves go on for miles. If the Gentlemen left, they could be anywhere out there.”
“The Gentleman didn’t fucking leave,” Firenzei assured him. “The Gentlemen never fucking leave. We can’t get comfortable thinkin’ they’re gone.”