by J M Guillen
From the opening bay of the Arbiter substation, dozens of silvery, round drones poured out, dropping into the open air. As they fell, they unfolded mechanical, clawed appendages. A hateful crimson began to shine from the underside of each orb, like a horrific eye.
“Executor class…” Rachel mused.
“I’ve never heard of them,” I responded. “Must be an Arbiter thing.”
“Executor class drones,” Anya replied mechanically, distantly. “I have not found a file relating to their function.”
“I’m hoping their function is tearing the Drażeri a new one,” I replied. The drones fell toward the enemy craft, faster and faster.
I winced as the first one struck, hard. Six claws clanged loudly and tore into the Drażeri hull. Spider-like, they held fast.
Instantly, the furious crimson light on the bottom shredded into the skiff, slicing through the craft like a soft cheese.
The Executor class is a working class drone, Beol explained. We use them to construct our substations and other various holdings across the Myriad.
It’s a construction drone? I raised an eyebrow, the silvery sphere seemed intent on destruction, just now.
Yup. I’ve indicated those two ships are raw materials to be harvested.
“Ha!” Wyatt crowed. “That’s perfect!”
We watched as the two craft found themselves harried by a hail of argent spheres, each with furious carmine energy eager to slice through their hulls. Each drone that landed on the Drażeri craft clung mercilessly, scrambling over the skiffs with claws that must have tinkered with the axioms of electromagnetism, just to remain in place.
“I need popcorn.” Wyatt couldn’t help but steal several glances at our Drażeri harriers.
The drones removed most of the side panel from one of the ships, slicing it away into pieces before returning to the substation with the material.
He chuckled as one of the servitors stepped up to the hole in the side of their craft and emerald hatred blazed from his iron rod.
“That asshole is going to fight them head on!” I tittered.
“Stay on target, Guthrie,” Rachel’s frown loomed in her tone. “Get us home.”
“Heh. You got it, Doc.” He turned back to his controls.
The Drażeri servitor lunged toward the gaping hole in their craft, hurling viridian flame at the Executor drones. He caught two of them square in the wake of that fury and sent them both careening to the ground below.
He screamed something I couldn’t hear, his iron weapon raised in triumph.
Behind him, beneath the ship, three other drones halted their harvesting. As one, they turned their furious eyes toward the Drażeri who, even now, crowed and celebrated.
“Watch out, buddy.” I nudged Anya and nodded at the servitor. “They’ve caught on.”
Before Anya formed her reply, the three drones ignited their fierce plasma weapons. They simultaneously sliced through the figure from three separate directions, effortlessly separating him into several parts.
It happened faster than I could blink. The remnants of his corpse fell silently to the ground below.
Good show, isn’t it? Beol chuckled over the link. The drones should have them handled. Assets, if you’ll make toward Locale One, I’ll ignite the Hyper-Pylon.
Copy that. Wyatt’s crazed grin split his beard.
“Michael.” Any leaned forward and gestured toward the porthole. “Look at the second craft.”
I craned my head to make out the second ship, gliding behind the first. It appeared the drones made away with much of the front portion of the insectine hull, including the plasma array it used for weaponry. Now it drunkenly wobbled along, unable to keep balance.
A spark of strangely-hued luminescence burst at the ship’s aft, followed by another.
My eyes widened as I realized what the pilot intended.
“They’re leaving.” I turned to stare at Anya. “Decided they couldn’t handle it.” I hadn’t finished my sentence before a crazed symphony of exploding color shredded the space around the craft. With an audible BOOM, it vanished.
“Ha!” Wyatt guffawed. “Couldn’t take the heat!”
A concussive BOOM exploded a second time. This one, much closer, rocked our skiff upward from the rippling blast.
“Wyatt,” Rachel warned. “Behind us! They just popped up behind us!”
I whirled, groaning inwardly. Through our aft porthole I saw the damned Drażeri ship pulling up fast.
“They do not give up,” I snarled.
“Come. On.” Wyatt began typing ever faster, driving the craft onward. “Maybe I—”
Before he finished the sentence, we lurched sideward again.
I stepped to the porthole, though I already knew what I would see.
Perhaps the drones had taken the Drażeri cannons, but their harpoon functioned just fine, thank you. Currently, they fired one into our backside, tethering us together.
“They caught us.” I popped my knuckles and glowered at the tether. “Again.”
“This is burning our gas,” Wyatt complained. “I’m cutting it.”
With a sudden lurch from the dead weight, our upward motion ceased entirely.
In freefall, we began to sink back toward the surface of the planet.
2
“Open the back hatch.” I pushed myself out of the seat, grimacing at the stabbing awfulness in my head. “Maybe we can cut ourselves loose.”
“You’re not cutting us loose by using an aperture!” Rachel snarled.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” I lied. Mentally I ticked off the other gear available. Our options didn’t look good.
“You can’t think of it,” she insisted. “The packet is decoupled. You’ll probably open an aperture in your lungs or something.”
“Opening hatch now.” Wyatt reached for a knob with his right hand. “Initiate reckless stupidity on my mark.”
“I’m not going to use the Gatekeeper.” I glanced down at Gideon as I passed. Would waking him up be all that bad? The Seraph could slice through that tether in an instant.
The back of the craft slid open, buffeting us with frigid wind. Below us, two of the Drażeri piloted their own ship.
Or, more specifically, one of them. The second blue-skinned jerk clambered out the side of their craft, his iron weapon clenched in one hand. Furious green fire blossomed in the glyphs on its surface, hungry and feral.
“Oh man,” I breathed as I stared down at them. Any moment, the warrior cleric would unleash his weapon’s wrath. Making things worse, the tether attached to the bottom of our craft. Even if Gideon were up and around, he’d never reach that strand with his blade.
Asset Guthrie, Anya’s link felt sterile, calm. Do you still have access to drone FL-296p?
“The Raiju? The one that dumbass thought he should use to destroy Dhire Lith?”
“What?” Rachel stared at me, her eyes wide.
“I never actually said that,” I defended myself. “I didn’t even have my Stilettos geared at the time!”
“I do have access, as it happens,” Wyatt said. “I thought I might need to use it to power up Rosie.”
If you pass control of the device to me, I can initiate its protocols.
“So now you get to destroy an entire reality?” I teased, even as I stared at the Drażeri attempting to get a good aim.
Unlike some Assets, I use Facility devices for their intended purposes. She gazed at me, a glint in her blue eyes.
“I suppose that’s true,” I gave her a grin.
An ingenious device, the Raiju gathered atomic energy from the surrounding area, energy which could then be processed into a different, usable form for Facility equipment. Anya had used it offensively once before, against gigantic troll-like beings that happened to be infected with parasitical assholes.
I hadn’t even considered we still had access to this one.
“Do what you will, Twitchy.” Wyatt reached back, handing me the small orb. “I�
��ve already relinquished device ownership.”
“Hurry up though,” I urged. Below us, the crazed Drażeri leaned almost entirely out of a porthole, trying to find purchase for his fingers as he secured himself.
“Understood.” Anya stepped closer to the open back of our craft, clasping my shoulder for support. She leaned as far toward the opening as she could, the wind absolutely merciless as it buffeted against her.
She opened her hand and released the drone.
I gasped, momentarily afraid the wind would whip the small device away from her. Instead, like a tiny, furious insect, it zipped downward, already burning with a violent, violet shine.
The Drażeri below snarled at us, hatred gleaming in his dark eyes.
Death, terrible wind. Hungers for your blood.
Your fate ever certain; bones to be dust.
His telepathic threats came accompanied with grizzly, horrific visions: their knives vivisecting us while we screamed, their teeth rending our flesh.
“Wyatt!” I warned, no time for anything else.
The Drażeri gestured toward us, his iron rod blazing with hatred.
Initiating drone, Anya sent.
Viridian fire splashed against the underside of our skiff. We had no understanding of what eldritch energy the Drażeri used, but I felt the heat even through the hull of the ship.
“I see ’em!” The engines of our craft roared to life. Wyatt’s sudden leeward yank of our craft pulled the Drażeri to the side as well.
Anya’s Raiju emanated violet energies, crackling around the small sphere with furious wrath. Yet the drone didn’t come anywhere near the Drażeri craft, nor the tether.
Our sudden lurch sideways caused her to miss entirely.
Recalibrating.
“Recalibrate quickly.” I clutched her hand, the one on my shoulder.
Understood, Michael.
As our ship pulled upward against the tether, it snapped taut again. Anya squinted against the wind, her every ounce of will bent on the drone.
The moment it came near the tether, Anya ignited the device.
It burst with a violet light, emitting a wide field of energetic radiance around itself; about the size of a large beachball. It contained almost a half meter of the entrapping line in that otherworldly glow.
It hummed and crackled as it built strength.
“Look away!” I actually had to pull on Anya a bit, who remained intently focused on the small device. I knew full well as the Raiju grew in strength it could easily cause retinal burns, similar to an eclipse.
My last visual on the drone came just as its energetic emanations shone and scintillated. Galvanic arcs sparked between the edge of the field and the small sphere within. They sparked faster and faster.
I ducked my head, hugging Anya close and out of the wind.
The burst hammered my eardrums. The heat of the flash washed over me, but I didn’t feel the least bit tempted to peek. I didn’t want my corneas scorched, after all.
The tether snapped violently.
“We’re free!” Wyatt crowed. His cry came with a sudden upward lurch of our craft.
Frantically, I grabbed hold of an overhead cabinet, attempting to not fall out the back.
“Shut the backdoor maybe?” I called to the front. “It’s no good if we all go tumbling out the back!”
“Fair enough, Hoss!” I heard the laughter in Wyatt’s voice as he began to close the cargo door.
Pretty slick, Beol linked. For a moment there, I thought they might drag you into the ground!
Oh, we never worried, Rachel rolled her eyes as she glanced at Wyatt. Our pilot apparently wrecks stock cars in his spare time.
Races, Wyatt corrected her. I race stock cars in my spare time.
Regardless, you are coming up on the Hyper-Pylon. Beol paused. It’s not much like a conduit, have you ever used one?
Never in life, Wyatt responded. We don’t tend to make leaving Rationality a habit.
It can’t be that bad, can it? Rachel asked.
No. It’s not uncomfortable, Beol hedged. Just memorable.
Memorable? Anya asked.
Most Assets pass through it unconscious, he said. There are often odd perceptual effects when one alters the axiomatic nature of space to this degree. Hell, a lot of people like it.
I show we’ll approach the location in less than two minutes, Wyatt linked.
You don’t have to be right up on it, Beol informed us. Just close. I’m beginning its ignition now.
As we continued arcing upward, a scarlet dataglyph appeared at the marker location of the Hyper-Pylon. It pulsed once, twice, before three more glyphs burned into existence around it on my visual array.
They formed a pyramid, with the original glyph in the center.
Bishop, Michael. Asset 108. The voice in my Crown sounded like a system link yet different, a touch more feminine. Please input authorization code.
Asset 108 confirmed. I nodded. Authorization code 020798361.
Transit confirmed, 108.
Hey, if you make it back this way? Beol asked. I sure could use some Springfield-style cashew chicken.
Roger that. A wild smile split Wyatt’s face.
Thanks. The damn conflux can’t ever get the sauce right. It tastes like sausage gravy.
No problem, Wyatt replied. Hell, I’ll bring crab rangoon too.
The sky split open.
A scarlet cacophony poured liquid light and radiant fury from those dataglyphs. That energy exploded around us, through us, burning away all thought, all memory.
In an instant, I lost my mind. Time and space ceased to have texture, to have any kind of reality I could comprehend.
All of existence blossomed with screaming, beatific crimson light.
It sang in my bones.
3
The sky outside burned sanguine brilliant. It looked as if the universe had caught fire, as if time itself danced in a sensuous flame.
I felt stretched, like taffy. Each atom of my skin dragged sensuously along silk.
“Wow.” Wyatt’s head lolled and his eyes closed. “That is some good—”
“My perceptual systems are malfunctioning,” Anya whispered. She traced one finger along her face, seeming to delight in the sensation. “I do not understand.”
“I don’t care to understand.” I laughed. My mind wound around space, as if existence itself caressed me.
I felt whole, as if I belonged in the universe.
I can’t say how many eternities stretched in that crimson fire. Reality sang a scarlet symphony, each note resonating pleasure and purpose in my mind. I laughed, I raved. I wept with emotions no person should ever forget, an understanding of truth that held no words.
“You guys,” Rachel slurred a bit, as if drunk. “Look. Look out the window.” She spoke from an infinity away.
I pulled my head up, a Herculean task. A silly grin pulled at the edge of my lips and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m serious!” She giggled, as if she couldn’t control it. “Look!”
Anya’s slender fingers touched my shoulder and I gazed up at her, somehow dragging my eyes open.
Perfect. Every line of her. I wondered if she knew, if she understood she had taught me the secret name of everything beautiful.
Seeing her gaze fixed before us, I turned and stared out the porthole.
Oh. My eyes grew wide.
I laughed. Delight and childish wonder.
Home.
Rationality Zero
“Hoss…?” Wyatt’s ecstatic voice filled with reverence and wild happiness.
“Yes!” My face broke into a wild and wide smile. “Oh, God yes!” I turned to Anya and noted her eyes appeared a touch wet.
Earth!
Rapidly, the feeling of intoxication faded from my mind. It burned away, like alcohol before a flame.
We’d made it home.
“It looks as if we appeared somewhere over Alaska,” Wyatt observed.
&nbs
p; “We’re still going crazy fast,” Rachel chimed in. “We’ll traverse most of the western United States in the next minute or two.”
Rachel had a point. From our vantage, we could see most of North America and a good chunk of the Pacific. We were extremely high up, but in that moment, I didn’t care.
It was easily the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Look! Out the port window!” Wyatt practically giggled as he pointed.
There, less than a hundred yards away, a second craft tumbled through the upper stratosphere. A moment’s examination showed it to be the same craft the two Drażeri tethered to us, back before Anya’s little trick.
“I don’t see them,” Rachel pressed her face against the porthole. “The Drażeri, I mean. They’re not in that Realmship.”
The Drażeri do not have a Solomon’s Crown nor an ARC subsystem. Anya shrugged. The Hyper-Pylon contains safeguards. It did not allow the living material of the Drażeri through.
I contemplated that, watching their craft spin end over end. Had the Hyper-Pylon simply caught the second ship in its wake? I wondered if it vaporized the Drażeri, or if they had been left to fall to the ground below.
“Looks like that sucker’s going down somewhere in Canada,” Wyatt chuckled. “If we’re not careful, the moose will be shredding space-time in their new ride.”
“Maybe the Canadians will spread hockey across the multi-verse,” I replied.
My Crown whirred and dataglyphs appeared over my visual array. My primary comm activated as we touched the Lattice, and it felt like pure heaven.
I require confirmation and access code check in. The Designate’s link washed through me like a river of frozen steel in my battered mind. Scarlet dataglyphs blossomed on my visual array.
I beamed at Wyatt and gave him a thumbs up. He grinned back.
Hello, Designate. This is Asset 108, Bishop, Michael. I’m home!
Greetings, Michael, the Designate responded immediately. We are pleased to have you back.
Pleased to be back, Designate.
I have all required codes, Designate, Anya linked. Patching now.
The Realmship lurched alarmingly, and the control panel hissed. A thin wisp of smoke wound from the fuel receptacle as the cerulean orb vanished entirely.