The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection

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The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection Page 111

by J M Guillen


  Damn it.

  “Thing blew about fifteen minutes ago! I think something happened upstairs, but who knows?”

  “Right.” I nodded.

  “I’ve got over two hundred agents on this floor alone who don’t have access to client records. Every minute we’re down is costing us thousands.”

  “We’ll get it handled.” Of course, I scarcely had any idea what he meant. “So, you think it’s a filament?”

  “Hope so. That’s a pretty quick fix from what I’ve seen.” He took a turn, angling us back in the direction we had come in the first place. It took us straight past a sales professional I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

  “[I’m afraid you don’t understand,]” the giant of a man growled in Swedish. “[It’s them or us at this point. That’s your choice. It’ll be your daughter’s blood.]”

  Jiro rolled his eyes at me as we passed the man, as if to say, “Can you believe this guy?”

  When we reached the gray service door, Jiro stood back and looked at me expectantly, as if I knew the way forward.

  “Oh, that’s right.” He frowned after a moment. “You said that you don’t often work down here. I don’t know how things work upstairs, but you can’t have access to the central processor or the Chasm without a key card.” He glanced uneasily from me to Wyatt. “The Geopulse Pylon is too easy to access from these doors.”

  “Oh.” I smiled benignly at the man, but my heart enthusiastically pounded in my chest. “Yeah, that is different. I assumed you would escort us in like they do upstairs.”

  “Typically, when someone is going to replace the filament, a temporary card is given to the contractor.”

  “Oh. Right.” Wyatt gave the man a sheepish smile, which clashed with his broad shoulders and wild beard. He patted his pockets as if he searched for something. “You mean this.”

  With that, Wyatt produced the key card that we had stolen from Mr. Fukui. He held it up, turning his hand so that Jiro only saw the red S Sadhana logo.

  “Yes. Very good.” Jiro sounded relieved.

  Wyatt stepped forward and slid the access card into the reader.

  For a long, tense moment, I contemplated the thousand things that could go wrong.

  But no, a cheerful beep sounded, and a green light blinked from the top of the reader.

  “Well, everything seems in order here.” Jiro glanced briefly at Wyatt and I, but his eyes seemed to linger a moment on Anya.

  I spoke quickly, not wanting him to jump to the correct conclusion.

  “If we need anything, Mr. Tanaka, I’ll be certain to let you know. Mr. Fukui said that we could count on you to get things done. “

  Wyatt opened the door and ushered Anya inside.

  “Oh.” He didn’t seem to know what to say. “I had always believed Mr. Fukui didn’t think much of our work down here.”

  I shrugged. “Regardless, I wanted you to know that you stood out to him. If I need you, I know the man to call.”

  “Good. I mean, thank you.” Jiro gave me one final smile, bowed, and then turned away.

  Do you think he bought that? I linked to both of them, though honestly, Wyatt’s appraisal carried a bit more weight. Anya’s skill set didn’t exactly involve people skills or deception.

  It won’t matter for long. Wyatt fiddled with the wall, looking for a light switch. Yer boy Jiro there just told us how much money they lose for every minute of down time. He turned serious eyes to me. That means that it won’t be long until they want their filament doodad taken care of.

  I realized what he meant immediately. The real contractor will be along shortly to do just that.

  Well… Wyatt shot me a devious glance. Maybe not shortly. With that, he flipped a switch and illuminated the processor room.

  Before I even had an opportunity to truly look around, I heard the whir of his Tangler and a lone WHUF sounded through the room.

  Stasis trigger? I glanced at the spike right in front of the door.

  Yep. Wyatt turned to evaluate the equipment. I have a clearance for a few. I figure I better use them before the Designates find out about the explosion upstairs.

  Those were extenuating circumstances, Anya pointed out.

  As long as we don’t have any Greater Aberrations come through this door, I think it’ll hold for a good long time. It’ll trigger when someone opens that door and stay active as long as, say, gravity exists. He gave me a toothy grin.

  The small room that held the Jiro’s central processor had walls covered with stacks of computer equipment. Most of it seemed relatively mundane: standard routers and servers.

  A hundred lights blinked, and a thousand snarls of cord ran between the devices with more cords running into a steel and plastic conduit through the wall.

  Would you look at this? Wyatt contemplated a series of glass canisters, something akin to fuses but twenty centimeters long and filled with a bubbling greenish liquid that held several lines of copper wire.

  Much of this technology is Rational. Anya’s fingers did their meticulous dance, so her link seemed distant. However, several key axioms are being bent in this room, many of them dealing with superconductivity and several base metals’ rate of decay.

  Do you still have a finger on Stone’s location? I strode further into the room as I linked, eyeing a great door on the far wall with curiosity.

  Her head twitched once. I am working out the triangulation algorithms. When I get him pinpointed exactly, I can open a link to Rachel, and we can begin initiating a remote boot.

  I stopped in place as a thought occurred to me. Why didn’t the Facility just perform a remote boot on me when I was held by the Vyriim?

  If that had taken place, you would have been an active Asset in their possession, she linked, then turned to face me. I needed to get closer to provide telemetry. The Designates insisted that you were free of aberrations before we initiated your system. Gideon also wanted to have visual confirmation of your well-being.

  Oh. That made sense. I’d admit, I hadn’t actually thought about it that way.

  The dossier blueprints show this next door leads to a large, round room. Wyatt still looked at the computer as he spoke.

  The Chasm, perhaps? Our blueprints weren’t exactly labeled, but I’d gleaned the name from Mr. Tanaka. I have to admit, when Irrats give things dramatic names, it makes me uneasy. I mean, Geopulse Pylon sounds like something worth blowing up.

  If that door’s our way forward, then I’m gonna leave a spike here. He tapped the console, blue light shimmering in his oculus. Leave a lil’ surprise for later.

  Later? I furrowed my brow. If we muck around too much we’ll just give ourselves away.

  Pfft, we’ll be long gone. I’ll set it to trigger whenever they get around to fixin’ their filament or whatever. He tapped on his keyboard, thoughtfully. Next time someone gets into this room, it’ll trigger. Transmute every bit of copper and steel wiring in this place into oxygen.

  He punctuated the idea with a WHUF.

  Evil, I linked as he finished and walked toward me. But unnecessary. Shutting down their outreach operations isn’t even part of our dossier.

  I get that. Wyatt stepped to the far door and turned the handle. But that’s not the point. I mean, Irrats are one thing, but… telemarketers? He gave an overdramatic shudder. They probably call up the Irrats just as they’re sitting down for evil supper with their tentacly wife and vampiric kids. I mean, I’m not saying the Irrats are good people, Hoss, but…

  You’re right. No one deserves that. I smiled at my friend and gave an overdramatic nod.

  I’m just doing God’s work. He tapped his keyboard for emphasis as he adopted a saintly façade.

  Fine. Let’s move along. I shook my head and chuckled.

  There was no one in the Rational world quite like Wyatt Guthrie.

  The Geopulse Pylon

  The door opened into a shadowed room, but we didn’t exactly need illumination. Ten paces in front of us, brilliant sparks of b
lue-tinged lightning spat and arced along a towering column, casting the room in leaping shadows.

  I stopped in mid-stride, unable to look away.

  The axiomatic snarls. Anya stepped forward, her boots echoing against the metal grating that made up the floor. This is their source. Whatever this device is, it occultates our telemetry.

  Can we blow it up? Wyatt smirked as he approached the gargantuan device. He examined it through his oculus, gathering more information than I could. Maybe with the Mjölner?

  It generates electricity as well. Anya glanced toward the room we’d just come through. I imagine several key facilities in this building are located close to the Chasm.

  Lights. I found a large pull-down switch, and engaged it with a loud clack that echoed in the room.

  Two bulbs near the door we had come through burst into brilliant white light.

  I’d say the Chasm is aptly named. Wyatt peered down through the grated floor.

  In the distance below, I saw more of the blue sparks weaving shadows around a stairwell that spun down into the darkness.

  “Ugh.” I looked away. I did not care for the view.

  It must span the height of the entire building. I didn’t have to feign awe as I watched the azure energy fizz and jolt. How long do you think it took to build this?

  Neither answered me.

  As one, we stepped forward, getting a better look at what could only be the Geopulse Pylon.

  Different types of metal plates had been riveted onto the trunk-like column of the device in intricate shapes and patterns. Arms of shining steel jutted off from the cylinder, looking like nothing so much as bent tree limbs reaching for sunlight they would never see.

  Every ten meters or so, a disk of amber and glass surrounded the trunk. Half a meter thick, these rings hung five meters out from the edge of the pylon. Cobalt energy, all warbling song and furious glee given leave to dance, leapt between them.

  No construction crew built this. Anya’s link held awe that bordered on reverence. This is a level of axiomatic weaving I have never seen before. Some of this device is not even technically real. She paused. It seems that parts of it exist in another topia.

  We’ve only had the Deep Telemetry to find things like this for a little over a year. I looked to Wyatt. This took longer than a year to build.

  Unless parts of it were constructed in a topia where time drifts differently. He turned to me. Sadhana has doors. Fuck, Hoss, they’re associated with the Vyriim. Think of how many doors those assholes had branching off from Dhire Lith.

  This is nothing like Drażeri technology. Anya’s link sounded firm.

  No matter how I tried to track things, it just didn’t make sense.

  The Geopulse Pylon loomed over us, a vast creation. It must have taken billions of dollars and many, many years to construct—not to mention the necessary research and development.

  Yet, a little more than a year after we perfected Deep Telemetry, we find this abomination, almost as if it had been constructed to draw us here by thwarting our technology.

  I have an exact triangulation on Stone. Anya’s link came suddenly but filled with more than a bit of pride. I need to work with Asset Gardener to remotely activate his Crown.

  Which way is he? Still down? Wyatt glanced down the stairwell at one side. Looks like we can go straight to hell if we’d like.

  You can. I sent to only Wyatt and grinned.

  Yes. Anya focused on linking our Caduceus, only giving Wyatt’s question the barest attention. I can be mobile as I do this but should not be disturbed. It will require most of my attention.

  I’d say we start heading down. I looked to Wyatt, still engrossed in the technological abomination.

  Suddenly the giant man started, turning quickly as if he had heard something behind us.

  The stasis field. Equations blipped across his oculus. It just tripped, Hoss. Someone tried to enter that room, only to realize they can’t.

  I’d say it’s time to step lively then. I placed one hand on the small of Anya’s back. Come on. We have to go.

  Engrossed in her work, she failed to realize the sudden gravity of our situation but sauntered forward under my guidance.

  Wyatt in the lead, we made for the grated stairs.

  Only the level we had come from had any light, and we left it on as we descended the stairwell. I wished for a moment I had thought to turn it out, but that seemed foolish.

  The time for secrecy had just slipped by us.

  “There!” The word echoed from somewhere above us; I couldn’t tell how far.

  We hurried downward, eerie cobalt radiance sparkling along the Geopulse Pylon. I considered using the optics in my Crown, but I envisioned how brilliant the azure lightning would then appear and changed my mind. I couldn’t afford to be blinded in hopes of a little surer footing.

  Each spark twinned with a shattered, warbling sound that set my teeth on edge as we escorted a distracted Anya down the stairwell.

  Wyatt maintained an ever widening lead while I moved Anya along as quickly as I could and she patched Rachel pertinent intel.

  As we passed one of the landings and turned down another set of the twisting stairs, the door to the landing burst open.

  A blond, crew-cut mercenary, who looked as if he had spent most of his spare time lifting trucks, kicked through the door and loudly chambered his weapon.

  “Oi there, buddy,” he called.

  My eyes locked with his. My scalp itched, a rabid, fierce thing and my heart beat like the drums of war.

  A trace of a savage grin pulled at the edge of my lips.

  Anya, keep going. I stepped between her and the big man just as he swung the barrel toward my position.

  I dove to one side, my pulse in my ears. Triggering the Adept, I leapt at him and swung my katana, literally bringing a sword to a gun-fight.

  The goal here didn’t involve taking this guy down. I just needed to distract him from Anya long enough for her to move along.

  Then, I’d Spectre up and follow.

  “Hey there,” I responded. “I see tha—”

  His weapon barked, echoing in the darkness.

  I felt the impacts in my arm and shoulder and, an instant later, seven more in my chest.

  Blinking with surprise, I fell to the grating underfoot, snarling.

  “No ya don’t.” Wyatt’s quip from the landing below came punctuated with a loud WHUF.

  The metal grating let out a ringing sound as the spike sank home, then through one foot of the man who’d shot me.

  “Wha—OH SHIT!” he screamed.

  For a moment, I considered leaping at him, savage fury boiling in my mind.

  But I hurt. I frantically patted myself down, trying to find if the quasi-steel had been breached…

  No. Except for one shot that tore straight through the meat of my bicep, I remained whole.

  Rachel, can you kill my pain process?

  Did you just get fucking shot? Rachel’s fury felt sharp, matched only by her horror. Do you even know how hard it is for me to try to log into Stone’s holotecture while he is tech adrift? Honestly, Bishop, I don’t need you making this anymore impossible.

  I rolled toward the steps in agony even though, once again, Facility quasi-steel had saved my life. My bad. I groaned. If you can give me just a moment here, I can probably go back and save everyone’s ass.

  I’ve killed it. I knew it before she even linked; the absence of pain felt blissful. I’m going to need you to inject more mecha soon. That is if you want me to be able to stop the bleeding in your arm.

  Will comply. Wobbling, I pushed myself to my feet.

  The man who had shot me screamed like a terrified toddler. While I had been busy receiving my scolding, the spike through his foot had pulsed a soft carmine. The light softened the grating until it sagged below him with all the tensile strength of warm taffy.

  Had Wyatt changed the atomic structure of the metal?

  Perhaps. I had worked with G
uthrie long enough to know the ridiculous kinds of shit that he pulled out of his ass.

  The merc either didn’t have the time or the strength to move before the screeching sound of the weakened metal heralded his abrupt crash down to Wyatt’s level.

  Are your systems green? I linked to Anya as I stood. I knew that if I used formal Facility terms she would find it simpler to reply as she worked.

  All systems green. Her link felt so distant, as if Anya lay across the world. The fingers on her right hand still plucked and pulled at things I couldn’t see.

  We’re moving. I ushered her down the stairs.

  There Wyatt Guthrie literally beat a man with his own gun.

  “Fascinating.” I shook my head.

  Good to see you, Hoss. Wyatt had the Tangler in his right hand but had somehow taken the man’s semi-automatic rifle in the scuffle. He swung it again and again, connecting the heavy metal stock of the weapon to the man’s shocked face.

  Bone crunched.

  Blood splattered.

  The scarlet ideograms within those off cast splashes were a paean of the hunt. They told a tale of the vitality of life, the secret history written in the lives of wild things.

  Eventually, the soldier fell still.

  I scratched my shoulder and down my arm. Out of nowhere, it felt as if I had taken a roll in poison ivy.

  “Stop!” some idiot yelled from above us.

  “Oh, okay.” I rolled my eyes. The man had clearly failed soldier school if he thought it would be wise to alert the Assets to his presence.

  With the Adept still active, I easily drew my Stiletto, aimed, and fired into the man’s face, all before he could wish he’d listened to his guidance counselor. The front of his skull collapsed inward, and he stumbled before he fell.

  I wanted to laugh at this, felt an almost erotic thrill at his death.

  Shadows gathered around me, a darkness the eye couldn’t see.

  We need to move. Wyatt linked. With a WHUF, he sent a spike into the grating just next to the door. I’ll leave a stasis trigger, but they know we’re here.

 

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