by J M Guillen
The front of my shirt was covered in sticky, drying blood. It covered my face, clung to my beard. My fingers were caked with it.
“What. The. Fuck?” Frantically, I wiped my mouth. My eyes darted to Wyatt and then to Anya.
He seems to be green, Catalyst. Anya knelt next to me, her blue eyes seeming very wide. The creature has departed. Readings nominal.
His vitals are within parameters. Rachel had to be up to something; I felt her fiddling in my Crown. Yep. All systems normal and green.
I feel more off-yellow, honestly. I scanned the area blearily, my mind taking a moment to catch up.
Wait. I knew this place. Sort of.
Even though I’d never been here before, it had been in the part of Delacruz’s patch that I had actually perused.
We had entered The Spire. Specifically, near the bottom. The place Delacruz had initially ignited her aperture on the now distant-seeming November 15.
I was actually apprised.
For once.
We stood on a metal dock that extended out into the center of the circular room. Looking around, I saw several other docks both above and below us, each branching to landings.
A meter behind us sat a small structure of metal and stacked sandbags. Perhaps a gun nest, where someone had watched over the Breach from the inside.
Now three dead bodies slumped there.
Behind that, two large doors stood flush with the wall. In front of us, hanging in the center of the circular room, was a crack in space.
The edge bubbled and roiled with a dark and terrible light, as if space itself were boiling away.
“Ar’Ghosa,” I whispered as I peered through it.
Only moments ago, a desperate part of me had wished that I could find my way back to that place. I had considered Ar’Ghosa far superior to The Spire.
I was glad now that I hadn’t seen the fissure. I might have torn through my cadre to get to it.
So we can link within The Spire now? I peered around the darkened chamber. Last time I was here, my Crown was about as useful as an abacus.
You’re literally coated in human blood. Wyatt’s link was full of disbelief. Five minutes ago you were chewing out some guy’s throat, and now your first official act is to question technological capacities? Wyatt shook his head. Hoss, that was fucking terrifying.
He is fine. I couldn’t decide if Anya’s certainty was based upon hope or fact as her eyes bore into me. Catalyst DuMarque has restored much Crown functionality within The Spire.
I couldn’t tell if she had the least worry that I dripped with human blood.
Communication, packets, even Lattice access. Wyatt ran his fingers through his beard, as if trying to see how much of it he could salvage. No Adjunct though. Also, no optics. I wouldn’t even try optics if I were you.
I remember. I won’t.
I rubbed my hands together, trying to get the blood off my skin.
Anya reached into one of her pouches and pulled out a half-liter of water.
I mouthed “thank you,” as I began to clean my face and hands.
What about Stone? I linked, looking around.
Secure, Anya reassured me. Demetrius got shot, twice. Yet Caduceus Gardener says his current vitals look steady.
He’s at AES in Facility Prime, Wyatt linked. Sofia handled it.
This quasi-steel is ruined. I removed my jacket and dropped it on the floor.
Now I only looked mostly covered in blood.
Cadre, I need you to get Bishop apprised, Gideon’s link felt harried and a bit distracted. Update him on Thorne and the Padre. I don’t have—
The link fell into static.
We all shared a worried look.
So, you’re updating me? I sent. No patching, huh?
Not for some time. We still cannot access our Adjuncts here. As a result your Crown is still full, Anya linked.
And we ain’t home yet. Wyatt sighed. This whole place—
Barking gunfire sounded behind those two doors.
Um, hey. Delacruz sounded a touch sheepish. There’s a hornet’s nest in here.
More gunfire.
Did you kick the hornet’s nest? Wyatt linked. I noticed that he only winced a bit as he turned. Rachel must have worked her magic on those gunshot wounds.
Can we just agree that someone kicked the hornet’s nest? There’s more here than I expected. I’m going to slip past them.
“Station ingress, respond.” The static-filled message sounded from the nest of sandbags and corpses. “Status report.”
“Oh man.” Patting myself down, I found one Stiletto in its holster. I reached for my sheaths…
Empty.
“Typical,” I growled. “You let one aberration possess you for ten minutes and—”
I should begin receiving compensation. Anya held my katana loosely in one hand. A whisper of a smirk pulled at one corner of her mouth.
Or perhaps I’d just grown skilled at reading Anya’s expressions.
“Thanks.” I nodded at her.
“We’re headed your way, Station Ingress.” The growly voice again spoke from the nest of guns and dead Sadhana agents.
Anya stepped closer, I assumed to find the walkie-talkie.
No. She picked up a Beretta.
Delacruz is in there, Wyatt linked. He already moved toward the double doors.
Okay. Maybe we regroup and then you can get me all caught—
The doors opened. Brilliant red light cascaded out of that hallway, silhouetting a few soldiers.
“More Assets.” The man who stood toward the front’s voice sounded raspy and electronic, I assumed from the mechanical rebreather that covered part of his face.
“You.” I took a step forward.
“Me.” I heard his sharpened grin.
In less than a blink he whipped a small oval object off his belt, which he dropped, right where our slender dock connected to the side of the room.
Grenade! Wyatt linked. His fingers began to slam his keys.
“Enjoy your trip to the bottom,” the man said through his mask. He shut the door.
Hoss! Wyatt started forward but I knew he’d never make it.
I sprinted, twitching on the Adept.
That set of doors was only a few seconds away…
But even with the Adept, a few seconds would be far too long.
2
I sprinted toward the grenade, toggling the Spectre as I ran. Perhaps if the thing went off…
WHUF! Quick as thought, a silvery stasis field covered the grenade and just over half of the walkway.
I stopped in place. I turned my packets off.
“Clever,” I said.
“They’ll realize how clever here in a few seconds,” Wyatt drawled. “Maybe you should step through that door and see who’s waitin’ on the other side?”
“I don’t care what Gideon says,” I quipped as I toggled the Spectre back on, “you are not a waste of space.”
“Smartass,” Wyatt grumbled.
I poked my now ethereal face through the doorway. On the other side, five bad-ass looking goons waited, weapons pointed at the door. Rebreather-Ralph had two more grenades. He bounced on his heels, eagerly.
Yep, I confirmed. We have some jerks here. I think they’re going to shoot at someone.
That worried me.
We weren’t exactly fit to engage any more hostiles. Guthrie had been shot. Anya had a series of bruises all across her face and heavily favored her left side. Delacruz had bled through part of her shirt. I hadn’t seen the wound, but it obviously hurt her.
I, on the other hand…
I knew I’d been wounded. Hell, I’d been hit a lot. I patted myself down, remembering a half dozen stab wounds, a spike I had taken in my shoulder, bruises from all shots the quasi-steel had blocked…
Not a single wound remained. Status green.
Hell, more than green. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I hadn’t been on a dossier at all. I felt like I’d had a few
cups of coffee after a full, restful night’s sleep.
Delacruz? Wyatt linked. Where exactly are you holed up?
I’m almost to the Emanation Matrices, she linked. If I can get an aperture here, then you don’t have to scrap your way through those [bastards].
Sounds good.
I’ll keep watch on these jerks, I sent. Time to catch me up?
Guthrie? Gideon sounded as if he were chewing glass. Did you just ignite an non-cleared stasis structure within Rationality… in The Spire of all places?
Maybe. Wyatt responded, chagrined.
I’m going to classify this instance as a required algorithm so that Ling doesn’t tear me a new one, Gideon continued. Don’t do it again.
Copy that, Catalyst.
We’ve been fighting for our lives here, Catalyst, I linked. It was required.
Understood, Bishop. Let’s take this moment and get you apprised.
Copy that.
The situation is fairly simple. Sadhana has used that rift to provide constant supplies and support for their operatives. Currently, our estimation shows there to be between three and five teams of Sadhana mercenaries in The Spire.
We are not in a position to favorably engage hostiles, Catalyst. Anya linked what we all thought. Just making our return has severely depleted our resources.
There are other Assets onsite in far worse shape. Gideon grimaced. We’re all doing what we can.
More than that, Rachel broke in, I’m fully focused on you lot for the moment. You’re all pretty roughed up, but I’ve got your viral mecha working nonstop.
Which is appreciated. Wyatt placed his hand over the gunshot wound. I notice I’ve stopped bleeding.
The bullet will completely dissolve, it just takes time. I’ve got work to do on all of you. She paused. Except for you, Bishop. It looks as if you’ve been responsible for once. Proud of you, buddy.
Thank you, Rachel. I nodded sagely.
Various expressions of disbelief, irritation, and incredulity assaulted me. I even felt Delacruz scoffing over the link.
Bravely, I ignored them.
So what are we doing, Catalyst? I linked.
No sooner did I send the link than the Sadhana goons began to shift uneasily. One looked at my rebreather-wearing amigo.
“Been too long,” he muttered.
Um, these guys have figured out that something’s up, I linked. They may investigate.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Just rendezvous already.
Got it, Delacruz, Wyatt grinned. C’mon back, jackass.
I pulled through the doors and materialized. A scarlet aperture had appeared behind us, near the destroyed outpost.
As we trotted towards the aperture, Gideon continued, You have all been apprised that The Spire is an emanation point for several key Facility frequencies. Many of the most important projects researched here involve what is known as Hyper-Rationality.
We are familiar, I linked.
Hyper-Rationality emanates from the bottom of The Spire, approximately twelve stories below your current locale. There, a series of relays known as the Hyper-Rational Matrices create and amplify the axiomatic configuration.
Nope, Delacruz linked as we stepped through the Gatekeeper portal. Not twelve floors down. We are now within a few hundred meters of the Matrices.
Nice! I high fived her. I dig the Wraith/Gatekeeper combo!
The room lay shrouded in shadow. Delacruz had found us a small drone control junction. Control panels blinked vermillion along one wall.
“Aaaand a few taps on Rosie…” Wyatt paused, tilting his head to one side.
In the distance, a dull explosion sounded. It sounded an awful lot like a grenade that had previously been trapped in space time.
So, quickly, Gideon went on. We now know that during the events of 15 November, the matrices underwent… spontaneous adjustment.
That sounds bad, I frowned.
Well— Gideon linked and then cut off.
Catalyst? I sent.
I have incoming, he snarled. I need to correlate Asset allocations.
I got it, Catalyst. Wyatt grinned. I was originally supposed to apprise Brooks Brothers anyway.
Thanks, Guthrie.
“Here’s the rub,” Wyatt said. “If Hyper-Rationality were properly engaged, that rift would close.”
Hyper-Rationality remains in flux, Anya linked.
“Also, if we get that thing re-engaged and all disgusting symbionts would be expelled from Rationality.” He waved toward Delacruz. “No offense.”
“None taken.” She sighed.
“Furthermore, the Sadhana operatives that are onsite would find their technology disabled. Only Asset packets should be capable of altering axioms in the face of Hyper-Rationality.”
“So we have to adjust the Matrices.” I nodded.
“No one else can get as close as we already are,” Delacruz said. “Conduit cohesion at this site is offline. That puts the pylons out of commission and no Gatekeeper can connect to a locale not within their own systems.” She paused. “It’s all us.”
“And that’s the gist.” Wyatt gestured. “We’re very close to the emanation point of the Matrices. Of course, it’s crawling with Sadhana.”
“Are they the problem?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Gideon believes so.” Wyatt shrugged. “Drone surveillance shows Sadhana agents fiddling with the Matrices.”
“Sounds up my alley.” I turned to Anya. “I assume you have the specifications required for the Matrices to be initiated?”
“Maybe she can just flip it off and then back on,” Wyatt muttered.
I’m gonna flip you off, I linked him.
Not yet, Anya answered. But I will.
“Hmm.” I arched an eyebrow at her. “When?”
I am providing telemetric relay, Michael. Anya seemed a bit uncertain. As I am relatively close, long range telemetry can ping off of my systems and provide needed data. However, I will require Asset Guthrie to assist me.
“So you’ll be able to tell us exactly what to do… it’ll just take some time,” I scratched at my scruff.
“Right. An’ we can do that sitting right here,” Wyatt pointed out. “I’ll use spikes to augment Twitchy’s feed and then we’ll know exactly what must be done.”
“Which places ass-kicking duty squarely on our shoulders,” Delacruz smirked at me. “I hope you have some stupid ideas left.”
I remembered Stone’s first rule and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Of course, Delacruz.” I flashed her the most charming smile I had.
“I always have a secret plan.”
3
This is a stupid secret plan, Delacruz groused. Area clear. She stepped through first and peered into the hallway outside the drone junction.
Right behind her, I held both my Stiletto and my katana at the ready.
You said you wanted stupid. I cocked my head.
Right. She peered ahead. I just didn’t expect you’d think we should stroll right down the hall. I should watch what I ask for.
You have the Wraith, I have the Spectre, I reasoned. I’m not quite invisible, but it’s close.
It works for now, she reasoned.
Just clear the way back to the central chamber, Hoss. Wyatt’s link sounded almost jovial. Keep assholes away until we have the intel.
Copy that. Delacruz and I slipped around a corner. So far it’s dead here. There may not be anything to—
Behind us, an elevator bell chimed.
[Fucking shit!] Delacruz whirled in the same moment I did, just in time to see my rebreather-wearing amigo exit the elevator with several of his buddies. He clicked a walkie-talkie and held it to his mouth.
Crap! I Spectre’d through a nearby doorway into a darkened room beyond.
The packet wouldn’t quite hide me all by itself, after all.
“They somehow slowed the explosion,” the masked man said from behind the door. “Caught Bowers and Harp both.”
&nbs
p; It sounded as if he stood just outside the doorway.
“I’m inter-phased here with Thorne,” a gruff voice replied over the device. “Let’s meet up. We can still bug out with the client if we need to.”
“That’s the plan, Padre,” the masked man continued. “I just have a little clean-up first.”
Bishop, Delacruz warned, they stopped at the doorway. I think they saw y—
WHUM. A burst of Rationality coursed through the doorway.
The Spectre powered down.
“Hello, little bird,” the man in the rebreather said warmly. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Gunfire.
Hoss?
Not now! I hurled open the door, catching one of the thugs squarely in the face. His nose crunched solidly as he stumbled backward, swearing.
“You again?” The masked man turned toward me, snarling. “Shouldn’t you be dead?”
I dove sideways, narrowly missing the spray of automatic fire.
Behind him, Delacruz hid around the next corner. She held an automatic pistol and shot at one of the ugly lugs.
“I probably should be.” I whirled my Stiletto toward him, firing squarely in his gut. “But no one seems to get the job done.”
He flew backward as if a beachball had just slammed into his breadbasket at Mach five.
Eh. I decided to roll with it. Three more blasts and two of his buddies slammed against the wall.
Gotta lose these losers, Delacruz linked.
Nope. We gotta draw them further from Anya and Wyatt.
Copy that.
At the same moment I received the link, I found myself falling through burning silk. I popped up next to her, just around the corner.
C’mon! She sprinted ahead, slipping beneath the Wraith in mid-stride.
I followed, triggering the Spectre. I didn’t know how freak-face had known we were there, but at least he couldn’t shoot me from behind as I ran.
At the end of the passageway two double doors loomed— exactly like the ones we’d seen above.
You clear, Hoss?
Met some Sadhana jerks. Drawing them after us back into the main chamber.
Copy that. Pause. We’ll finish up and rendezvous shortly.