by J M Guillen
I turned to Wyatt. You have absolutely no game.
Who wants game with an Irrat?
The woman ran screaming from the room after you said hello. I’d say that’s a tip-off that you need to brush up on basic social skills.
You’re one to talk. I found one of your home movies the other day. To elaborate, Guthrie patched me a nasty little scene he must have found in the shadiest depths of the internet. It involved a college-aged guy dressed as a pirate and his adventures with inflatable farm animals.
The uses that pirate came up with for craft supplies astonished me.
You carried that around, just so you could patch it to me while on dossier?
He smiled and stepped out the door.
So unprofessional. I followed, stepping on a folder labeled ‘Daisuke Ito’ as I went.
“[Help!] Mr. Hasan! [Intruders!] Guards! This way! Mr. Hasan!” The woman continued screaming in a dizzying mixture of English, Japanese, and Arabic.
Heads popped out of doorways like meerkats watching a car wreck.
Somehow, while discussing Wyatt’s game and pirates, things had become quite serious.
Hoss, it’s time to go. The firing mechanism of the Tangler almost appeared eager in Wyatt’s hand as he began to tap at his hip.
I can’t take you anywhere, can I? I sighed and unholstered my Stiletto as I triggered the Adept. This could be messy. Alright, here’s the plan. I paused to gather my thoughts. First we’ll—
I have located Liaison Stone’s latent signal. Anya’s triumphant tone pulled me up short.
You have?
Correct. It is sixty-three meters east-southeast and one hundred sixty-five meters below our current position.
A blue indicator suddenly appeared in my vision. It led back in the direction we had come.
“You’re kidding me,” I groaned.
Why would you think that? Anya asked.
Okay, I bit back on a sigh. It’s too late to subdue Ms. Unimpressed now. Let’s kick off a game of ‘Run Away from Sadhana’s Goons.’ At least we’ll be closer to Stone and closer to getting out of here.
Way to be positive, Hoss.
Thanks.
We ran.
Several uncounted minutes and stairwells later, we had jogged far past our break-in point. I had begun to hope that maybe we’d gotten away, when Wyatt linked.
Got tails.
How many?
Four? More’n I want.
No alarms, not yet at least. I sent as we ran down yet another random hallway turn.
They have set off a silent alarm, Michael. Radio traffic has increased eightfold.
That’d account for all the hounds on our trail. Wyatt panted. Silent alarm’d let Sadhana deal with their own problems without draggin’ the pokies in.
Pokies? Seriously?
Sure. Wyatt threw me a wink as he caught up to me. You know, the pigs, the fuzz, the po-po.
I stared at the smartest man I knew. Come on now, little guy, use your words.
Will I get a cookie?
I gave his shoulder a hard shove, and he laughed, running harder.
Skidding around a more than ninety-degree turn, I came face to face with an ornate, steel double door. I caught the curly, wrought iron handle and yanked, stopping all momentum.
“Dammit.” Locked tight.
Fortunately, a keypad had been installed right next to it.
Hey, genius! I linked. Come open this door. I think we can hide here a minute, maybe throw the hounds off our scent.
You checked for inhabitants yet? he replied reversing course.
It’s locked. I didn’t think anyone would be having a private meeting in a locked room, but since we’d found an Irrational statue in a freaking bedroom, perhaps I should check.
I powered up the Spectre and stuck my face in.
Dark. Quiet.
I pulled back.
No one’s there.
Wyatt studied the keypad and jabbed a few buttons. A red light flashed at the top, and he nodded as if he expected it. He pushed some other keys.
Red light.
The footsteps that dogged us grew louder.
Running out of time here, I prompted. You can’t literally start with 0001 and try every combo.
Fine. Disgust threaded his tone, and he pulled the Tangler around. I’m gonna have to make some noise. He jerked his head toward the stubborn keypad even as he typed in commands on his keyboard. Pad’ll take too long. Gotta cover our asses.
They will see your spike, Asset Guthrie, Anya reminded him.
Sure they’ll see ’em, princess. Don’t you worry, though, I’ll give ’em some souvenirs they won’t want to leave without.
She cocked her head.
WHUF, WHUF, WHUF.
Two of those are stasis fields. Stay over there. Red circles surrounded two of the spikes, showing their trigger radius.
Wyatt peered at his visual array, mouthing numerics to himself. Then he stepped back toward the keypad, his oculus already shimmering with numerics.
You said two stasis fields? What about that third spike? I peered behind us, just waiting for incoming assholes.
I’m fiddling with electromagnetic conductivity. He wiggled his eyebrows.
Don’t we need electromagnetic conductivity to live?
I’m messing with the copper in the walls. Watch this.
He looked up at the light, then at the floor, with no further explanation. Then he punched four keys in fast succession.
The hallway went dark around us, shadows fluttering down the passageway we’d come. The light on the keypad shone yellow for a moment and went dark.
That’s actually brilliant.
C’mon. Wyatt pushed the door open, now unlocked without electricity to power it. He made a hand motion as he herded Anya and me toward the double doors. I’ve got the triggers set with a good long range, but we need to hurry. Power’s only out for a moment.
We hustled through the double doors.
Are we not simply trapping ourselves in this room? Anya’s question sounded plaintive.
Not as long as I have the Spectre. I fired it up and headed to the back of the room. I’ll just slip around behind our pursuers and do a little scouting around. Just hang tight, and I’ll find our way out. Then we’ll nab Stone and be on our way.
I slipped through the wall, leaving my friends nodding in the dark.
Back in the empty hallway, I took a moment to orient myself to Stone’s directional marker. It still lay far below us, but at least we’d made some progress. I headed off in that general direction slipping off the Spectre.
Padding down a long corridor, I took the first right…
And nearly crashed into three large men in intense tactical gear.
“Hey, guys.” I smiled, but they didn’t smile back. For long moment I stared at the three armed men. Body armor and MK 23s, particularly nasty automatic pistols, met my gaze. Yet I didn’t care about the equipment; I wanted to gauge the men.
I met three sets of dark, mercenary eyes.
They looked me up and down, trying to guess whether or not I might be trouble.
I smiled, knowing the answer.
“There’s a line you know.” I slowly dropped my arms to my sides. I clutched my one Stiletto but tried not to appear overtly threatening. “A line where an incursion changes from being sneaky and secretive and shifts over into loud and obnoxious.” I let my gaze rest on each of the men in turn. “I’d say we just crossed the line.”
I reengaged the Spectre.
“Wha—?” A young guy, whom I honestly thought probably shouldn’t even be there, gasped as I faded into a blurry, phantasmal version of myself.
“There!” a shaved-bald gentleman that I instantly nicknamed Cueball exclaimed. His calm confirmed my suspicion; Sadhana had briefed at least some of their minions for exactly this kind of situation.
I sprinted forward as two of the goons opened fire.
The bark of gunshots echoed loudly do
wn the passageway. Bullets whizzed through my hazy form, leaving trickles of wintery sensation where they passed before they tore into the expensive carpet ahead.
You okay, Hoss? I felt the concern in Wyatt’s link.
Nothing I can’t handle. I spun and flung myself through one of the men, fetching up next to him, Stiletto drawn.
I shifted into physicality just long enough to pull the trigger centimeters from the man’s head.
Cueball’s face and chest were bathed in blood and bone and brain as my target fell to the floor.
“We need back up!” The young man who seemed as if he might be better suited to drawing comic books in his mother’s basement practically wailed into a walkie-talkie, “We have a bogey on floor forty-eight! Target possesses extra-natural capabilities!”
“I’m extra-naturally handsome, if that’s what you mean,” I quipped as I materialized next to Cueball. With a thrust, my katana sank into his chest. I simply stared at the boy on the walkie-talkie, allowing him to gape in horror as his friend foamed at the mouth and gurgled, lungs filling with blood.
Dammit, I thought as his eyes ran wild and frantic. Only a kid.
“How about you just run?” I kept my tone soft, conversational. I thought that the young man might literally piss himself as he backed away, his weapon held loosely in one hand. It only took him three or four steps before he realized that I would let him go.
He turned and sprinted down the hallway.
Michael, I am receiving a sudden spike in radio transmissions. Anya hesitated.
Trouble? I linked as I watched the young man run.
Sadhana is routing reinforcements in your direction.
Just can’t keep things quiet, can you? Wyatt snarked over the link.
Truth be told, I knew he hated the sneaking around just as much as I did.
Well, you know. I leaned over toward Cueball to wipe my katana blade on his shirt.
To wipe off the—
The blood.
The color whispered of primal beauty, elegant and simple, scarlet poetry dripping down my blade. The way it dripped sent positively erotic shudders across my back.
I itched. The sensation came suddenly, almost like an allergic reaction. I looked over my shoulder, scratching my arm.
It felt like I was being watched.
Know… what, Hoss? Wyatt’s link snapped me back to our conversation.
When one is good at one’s job, one’s natural inclination is to let everyone know.
Who said you were good at your job? Wyatt chuckled. Wait where you are, why don’t you? If you’re finished with your overly loud subterfuge and sneakiness, we’d best group up. I just gotta jump the door again.
Roger that.
I scanned the passageway in the direction the young man had fled. No one.
But I felt someone watching me, an ancient and terrible gaze. Those eyes were cunning and held a desire for blood that made me tremble.
“I am alone,” I said to myself, “in a brightly lit hallway.”
It certainly didn’t feel that way.
I returned my thoughts to the young man. He truly hadn’t been prepared for what had happened and perhaps didn’t really understand the jokers he worked for. I felt for him, knowing full well that if I saw him again, I probably wouldn’t be able to let him go.
For his sake, I hoped he didn’t come back.
2
Wyatt gave me a nod and a roll of his eye as he approached.
Anya stared off into space, tweaking at invisible strands that relayed her data, as per typical.
There is a significant shift in Rationality five meters below us, thirty-five meters to the northwest. As she linked, Anya placed a marker over my field of vision.
Coming toward us? Wyatt plunked a couple of his keys and then peered in the direction of the marker himself.
It appears to be stationary; however it is along our general trajectory.
It’s a trap of some kind. I looked from Anya to Wyatt and then accessed the dossier in my Crown. I knew that some of the building schematics had been provided by Liaison Stone, I just hoped…
Yes. I grinned as I found what I was looking for.
We have this entire floor and several lower levels on blueprints in the dossier.
I’m looking at that now, Wyatt mused. Unless I miss my guess, our friends are planning some kinda party for us as soon as we get into the elevator.
Perhaps. I double checked the blueprint. I’d say they have something set up on the floor beneath us. Maybe they plan on dabbling in some kind of Irrational fuckery while we’re in the elevator and on our way down. I paused. Nice enclosed space, nowhere for us to run…
Local transmissions indicate that there is a rendezvous point being set, outside the elevator, one floor beneath us. Anya’s head twitched just a touch. They seem to be awaiting a single individual to get into position.
I don’t think this is a party we want to attend. I glanced at Wyatt. What do you think about this instead? I patched them both a quick image of the blueprints, highlighting a stairwell back the way we had come.
I still don’t love it, Hoss. There’s only so many ways down, and it’s easy for them to have them all covered.
Rationality negative two! Anya burst into our minds before I could respond. Forty-five meters away, back in the direction we came! She placed a second reticule over my vision, showing the location squarely behind us, past the two large, double doors.
In that moment, it made sense to me
Not many people deal with supernatural threats well. I frowned, glancing from Anya to Wyatt.
Right. Wyatt spat on the pristine floor. Most folk’d take one look at an eldritch horror, an’ then beat feet the other way.
We’re being herded. I scowled.
I shared a long look with Wyatt, watching him come to a similar conclusion. Then I nodded to him.
Toward it, right?
A rueful grin spread across his face as he nodded.
You got it, Hoss.
We weren’t most folk, after all.
I kicked the Adept into full gear, held my Stiletto in my right hand and one of my katana in my left.
Negative two is holding. Anya’s link came quietly but warily. Her blue eyes flicked to me, and then resumed scanning her interface.
I’ll take point.
Wyatt nodded as I linked.
I trotted down the hallway.
My cadre didn’t let me get nearly as far this time. At about fifteen steps ahead, they started moving along with me, Wyatt’s Tangler already whining.
It’s not congruent. I heard the concern in Anya’s tone. It’s more than just blips in base Rationality, it’s as if there is a blockag—
The double doors exploded off their hinges flying down the hallway before she finished linking.
I scarcely had the nano-second it took to engage the Spectre to allow one door to blow through my ethereal body.
Spiking! Anya’s cry made my heart pound, even as I reclaimed solidity. Rationality negative five… negative nine…
“Fuck.” My eyes widened as I took a step backward.
I gaped at what had just burst through the doorframe, wreathed in swirling mist; I had never seen anything like it.
A feminine figure, clothed only in a diaphanous, wrap-around skirt that flowed as if caught in the current of a stream, posed there. Gracefully long and thin, the legs that showed beneath the incredible skirt bent backward at the knee.
Christ above! For all of its apparent blasphemy, Wyatt’s link filled my mind with horrified awe.
As the creature stepped closer, I could make out more details through the unnatural mist. Bare-breasted and buxom, her flesh had been wrapped with razor wire that writhed like a live thing, slicing into her even as we watched. Her skin ran scarlet with blood as her huge eyes blazed with hatred. Sixteen centimeters long, her wicked fingernails looked more like eagle talons.
I think this one’s yours, Hoss. She looks like your ki
nd of girl. I felt the legitimate horror in Wyatt’s link as the woman raised an obsidian blade in one hand, her white-blonde hair floating in a non-existent wind.
Um… okay.
She screamed, her jaw malforming into a predator’s snarl. It echoed into a sound of desolation, of hopelessness. Around her, arcane shapes burst into existence, flaring with a red and hateful light before fading out of view again.
Before I could breathe, the creature launched herself toward me, raising her curved blade high over her face. The sharp wire sliced into her as she moved, and blood poured off her in rivulets.
If she felt the pain, she didn’t show it.
“Fuck!” The word burst from my lips as I raised my own blade to meet hers, shocked by how quickly she had closed the distance.
Her wide blade cleaved my katana in half, slicing the electresium as if it had been made of nothing more than rubber.
I scarcely dodged out of the way, rolling to the ground.
“What is it about today?” I screeched, dropping the now useless hilt.
I engaged the Spectre, dodged left, and reached behind myself to pull my second blade. I couldn’t afford to keep losing weapons, but if I could just get behind—
She caught.
My.
Incorporeal.
Foot.
“Urp!” I brilliantly said as the Irrational creature grabbed me, my ankle as solid as stone.
With a strength I never would have expected her slender arms to have, she swung my somehow physical form in a full circle around her head before smashing me into the side of the hallway.
Warning. The system prompt felt fluid in my mind. Crimson dataglyphs ran across my visual array. Packet specifications failed to ignite.
“You think?” I slurred. What with the orchestra of exploding sunbursts in my head and the sharp stabbing of agony through my neck and shoulders, I felt a bit addled.
I slumped to the floor, blinking stupidly.
Everything grew dim.
Michael! I felt the desperation in Anya’s link, but the connection dissolved in my head. The entire world slipped away from me, like water through my fingers.
Shadows, sharp and sweet, slipped silently across my mind.
3
Bishop! Get up! I didn’t recognize the voice in my head but immediately gasped.