by J M Guillen
I rolled to my feet, grabbed up my weapons, and took stock of the room: three Arachniis, down but twitching, and the rift still gaped open. The two Gideon had shot were horrifically wounded, maybe dying. The one I’d hurled against the wall wobbled as it attempted to push itself up on broken legs.
Amir? I turned to Gideon.
Through the door. He was already on the move. We can still catch him.
Irrational target six meters away, Anya informed us.
Copy that. Gideon smirked as he linked. The Huntsman is active.
That’s good news. I kept my eyes on the predators, while I evaluated the rift. I’m going to leave a gift for our friends here. I pulled one of the Tabula Rasa.
I didn’t often use the silvery disks, except as a final option. The Tabula would utterly obliterate all matter within its radius and leave only a vacuum in its wake.
For a moment I hesitated, uncertain.
After all, it could kill us just as easily.
Keep the field tight, Gideon linked as he opened the door. After he peered into the shadows for a moment, he stepped inside.
I gazed back at the room as I fiddled with the dials on the small device.
The dire amalgam I’d attacked wobbled toward me and hissed.
“Sorry, sweetheart. You aren’t my type.” I tossed the Rasa into the center of the room, near the rift.
As I left, a burst of white brilliance shattered the darkness.
I pulled the door closed and relished the solid click.
Thunder rattled the door as the Rasa obliterated the creatures, the floor, and quite possibly the rift itself.
All fell silent.
Machinations
Gideon linked, Get to the other wall. You’ll need your optics.
Um, okay. I performed the twitch that expanded my visual capabilities but still stumbled a bit as I stepped inside. We aren’t chasing the asshole?
We’ll get him. Gideon paused. I have him marked.
So what are we waiting for?
Get a record of that wall, and I’ll get this one, then we’ll move along.
This room was slightly larger than the first, nearer to six-by-eight meters, with two doors that lead out. An old writing desk had been pushed up against the far wall, and a table dominated the center.
Papers, all yellowed and old, mostly hid the stone walls. Some of them were darkened with water damage or seemed incomplete, but each had been covered with dozens, hundreds, of scrawlings.
Too much information existed there to simply read. However, my Crown formed a phaneric record of everything I saw.
Irrational target has halted, according to the telemetry, Anya reported.
I have that as well. Gideon peered at one of the walls. Approximately fifteen meters in front of us. Let us know when he’s on the move. That way I can focus on my visuals.
Will comply.
Get as much as you can, Bishop—the Designates will interpret this faster than we can. Gideon’s link held a trace of distraction. We’ll still get him.
Understood.
A small lamp shone dimly from the writing desk, the only source of light in the room. It illuminated more than enough, especially with the optics function active, but even so…
There was a lot to see.
Tiny, perfectly rendered numerics, vast equations that used symbols and shapes I had no name for, covered most of the papers. A hypnotic quality wound through those numbers, and more than a few shifted and twitched before my eyes.
The Equation is not complete, I linked to Gideon as I peered at the formulae and traced my finger along the printed words.
Didn’t Amir say that, in Mexico, before you shot him in the face?
I—it did seem familiar, but I didn’t remember Amir saying it. I dunno.
Doesn’t matter. Quit doing the math, Bishop. We don’t have time for you to carry every two here.
Gideon paused and leaned close to one of the pages. Just get the intel. When we catch Amir, he can tell the Designates what it all means.
As I progressed along the wall, something different from the vast, arcane equations leapt out at me. A list of sorts rested upon the writing desk, weighed down beneath the small blue lamp.
Dates. I scanned the list and tried to make sense of what it all might mean: 26 February 1993. 7 August 1998, 17 August 1999. When my eyes fell to the next one, I raised an eyebrow.
9 January 2001. I turned to Gideon. This one is in three days.
What now? Gideon stepped over to me and scanned the paper. He frowned. That’s unnerving.
It continues into the future. I pointed, my finger resting on 11 September 2001. Below that, 23 August 2005 and 8 October 2005 leered at us but had been scratched through. The list ended with 18 September 2015.
That last date felt familiar, somehow.
Look at this. Gideon gestured to another page plastered on the wall, just to the left of the desk. Artistic swirls decorated most of the sheet, circles with odd, looping lines between them. Gideon pointed to the circle at the center. There, in that same small script, were printed a familiar set of numbers.
“The Principle Facets of Rationality?” I turned to him. The string of numbers couldn’t help but be familiar—every Asset knew the frequencies of Rationality Zero by heart, a fail-safe in case we ever needed to input them manually.
“Right.” He frowned. “So then, what’s this?” He pointed at another circle with a different set of digits within it. “Or this?” He tapped another.
“Other topias, maybe,” I mused. “But even if true, how did the Darkened Road know the frequencies of Rationality?”
The target is on the move, Anya linked.
Rachel, do you still show all Crown functions active? Gideon raised one eyebrow at me.
I don’t know how he shut the Wraith down the first time, she groused, but all seems green on my end, Gideon.
Simultaneously, we both engaged the Wraith and faded from sight.
We have two doors in front of us, Alpha, I linked, my question unasked.
Take the eastern one.
Accustomed to my place as point, I stepped through the door.
2
The stone-brick passageway arched at the top and stretched wide enough for four people to walk side by side.
Rationality variations approximately eight meters in front of you. I felt Anya frown through the link. This also approximates the location where Irrat 3302 halted in place for several moments.
As she spoke, a light orange reticule appeared in my Crown to show the location of the anomaly.
Trap? I linked to Gideon alone.
Trap, he confirmed.
I crept forward and peered into the shadows of the hallway.
Bishop, I’m not convinced this is as much of a surprise as we’d hoped, Gideon linked as I crept forward.
That sounds hopeful.
Amir seemed able to hear us or somehow know we were there, he reasoned. He spoke to us while we were supposedly unseen, and he left that door open for us.
You think he knew we were coming?
I think we’d be idiots not to assume that. He paused. The Darkened Road has always been full of surprises.
So what about those papers and dates? I tracked the reticule as I crept forward. If he knew we were coming, Amir’s smart enough to leave false trails.
I just don’t know. Gideon’s frustration felt sour in the link. Not our call. It’s up to the Designates.
Michael, would you like an overlay regarding the shape of the Irrationality in the passage? Anya’s link felt laced with concern.
That’d be wonderful, Anya. Thank you. Both of us please?
No sooner did I send the link but my reticule faded, and a soft white glow appeared before me, three thin bands that traced their way around the top of the passage, the walls, and the floor.
It’s like a circle, but vertical. Gideon’s link felt a bit surly. What’d ya bet some weirdness gets summoned the moment we step through?
That’s a fact. He sighed. What say I shut the whole thing down?
You have a dampening grenade?
You don’t? Gideon chuckled. That’s just irresponsible.
I thought we were just doing recon! I countered. Searching for reagents, if I recall. I didn’t even bring any melee weapons!
You brought three Tabula Rasa on recon? Gideon linked dryly. I thought you were all about dampener grenades?
I like both! I just so happen to have Tabula Rasa with me right now!
Well that’s perfect. He rustled in his side bag and pulled out one of the dampeners. Just in case the person who sourced the Turkish Purple Jade needed their block obliterated?
I still had them from Washington! I protested. We didn’t exactly get a white room between there and Istanbul!
As we bickered, we eased away from the trouble Amir had left us. When Gideon judged that we stood far enough away to not affect our Crowns, he lobbed the grenade down the hallway and Rational physics exploded around us with rumbling thunder.
WHUM.
Maybe I brought the Rasa for Amir. I smiled at Gideon, showing him my teeth. He may not have died last time, but I bet I can change that.
I hope so. Gideon didn’t even glance at me, but his tone went grim. For Max. And Katarina.
Elle. I didn’t quite snarl. We owe this asshole.
The Designates want him alive. Now Gideon did turn to me, one brow askance. We’re to bring him in. He started forward again.
No white room. I shrugged. I don’t have axiomatic shackles.
I do. He chuckled darkly. Not that you’ll want to use them.
We walked forward in silence, each alone with violent thoughts. Our Crowns provided a complete record to the Designates, therefore it wasn’t wise to focus upon a killing an Irrat they requested alive.
But damn. I wanted this guy.
After another twelve meters or so, Gideon linked Anya. We have a hatch in the floor. Round, propped open. The passage continues forward, but the hatch leads down. Do you have telemetry on target?
Target position is twenty meters in front of you and eight meters below you, Alpha. She paused. Does this sync with what you show on the Huntsman?
It does. I simply wanted to double check as we have apparently been having system issues.
Understood, she responded. Michael, as you do not have access to the Huntsman, would you like a reticule on his location?
Please. I wasn’t done linking before the violet reticule appeared upon my visual.
Age before beauty? I questioned and gestured at the hatch.
Ladies first. He grinned. And children, which I suppose better describes you.
I clutched the cold metal of the ladder and shimmied down.
The air below hung with a thick, sour dampness. After only a few rungs, the temperature dropped drastically. My breath billowed before me into mist.
I stood in a dark passageway of carved marble and granite scavenged from ancient buildings.
I’m powering down the Wraith. I shrugged as I linked, I figure I’m invisible enough just standing still down here, and if I keep it on much longer the thing’ll make me twitchy. I switched on my optics.
Yes. I felt it as Gideon dropped to the ground. It’s the packet that makes you twitchy.
Besides, I don’t think I would mind seeing the look on Amir’s smug, fucking face when he sees we’ve caught up with him.
I have a concern, Alpha, Anya chimed in. Telemetry shows the target to be twenty-five meters ahead. Does that data sync with the Huntsman?
Affirmative. He paused. Approximately.
The deeper underground you are, the greater variances we show on telemetry. Anya paused for a moment.
Gideon and I walked forward into the gloom.
Are we having issues with deep telemetry again? I felt Gideon’s scowl.
Affirmative. You might wish to consider patching the Huntsman’s data to Michael’s Crown for greater accuracy than I can provide.
He has the resources, Rachel chimed in. I can modulate mecha on both ends.
That’s an excellent idea. I felt Gideon nod next to me, even though I didn’t face him. Please sync the Huntsman’s relay to Bishop’s Crown, using my system as the transmit point. Rachel, do I need to give clearance authorizations?
As Gideon took care of our technological issues, we stalked through the gloom. About fifteen or twenty steps further in, the passageway opened up, large enough that my optical systems didn’t show how far apart the walls stood.
Incoming data, Bishop. I felt the familiar snick in my Crown as our systems meshed. The sensation felt softer than when I meshed with the Cradle, but it relied upon the same basic principle.
A moment later, outlined as a white human form in the distance, I saw what could only be Amir Cadavas as he escaped into the darkness. The specialized viral mecha in Amir’s body would only remain within his system for the next several days, but as long as they did, Gideon’s Crown could track the man to the ends of the earth.
Heart rate, hormonal production… I raised an eyebrow. This thing has the kitchen sink.
More information than we need, honestly. We just gotta keep on him.
Will comply. It didn’t seem as if Amir had gone straight ahead of us but off to the side a little. I swerved toward him.
Unfortunately, even with the optics, it was difficult for us to see anything that far ahead aside from our Huntsman’s glowing quarry. The floor immediately in front of us continued but dropped away into dark water at the sides leaving a narrow middle path. Because much of our optic capabilities depended upon infrared data, the cool water appeared as black depths.
The darkness ahead seemed empty, endless. I could only really make out what was right in front of us.
Let’s double-time it. Gideon broke into a jog. Bishop, you should keep the Adept running, if you can. If you have an opportunity to catch him, don’t wait on my account.
You know, I mused as we trotted along, it would be a shame if Rachel accidentally miscalculated the hormonal leash on my astral companion. I mean, what if the creature accidentally shredded Amir’s face? The Designates couldn’t exactly blame me for that.
Unlike you, I don’t make mistakes, Rachel snarked back.
Ever?
Only in allowing myself to be associated with you, Michael Bishop! she shot back. Maybe you should focus on what you’re supposed to do and stop trying to convince everyone you’re clever.
We’re in the basilica’s cisterns, Gideon linked as if he hadn’t heard how funny I was. There’s dozens of them beneath Istanbul, some still undiscovered.
Minor Rationality eddies ahead, Anya informed us. Nothing too dire.
Eddies? Gideon queried.
It has not drifted in any one direction or another. She paused. Axiomatic obduracy is weakening.
What now? I furrowed my brow.
It’s as if the axiomatic statistics are… softening. Not shifting but less rigid. Less prone to remain static.
The obduracy coefficient relates the difficulty of shifting axiomatic statistics, Gideon explained.
I know what axiomatic obduracy is! I shook my head. It’s one of the Facility’s base emanations, from places like The Spire. I want to know how in the name of Wyatt Guthrie does an Irrat go about altering a Principle Facet of Rationality?
Oh, Anya linked.
I have no idea, Bishop, Gideon replied.
Good. I sighed. I love inexplicable bullshit.
We crept forward for a few moments in complete darkness. In the impossible distance, water dripped down to echo hollowly in unseen depths.
Are those bridges? I peered ahead. It seemed as if slender wood and rope bridges occasionally branched off from the stone walkway Gideon and I ran over.
Looks like. Hard to tell if our buddy Amir took one of them.
He had to, unless this walkway leans to the right.
Corre
ct. Hard to say which one.
He’s higher up, too. I frowned.
Keep on. If we find a way to the right, maybe we take it.
I didn’t love the idea. Those bridges, damp and ancient, hung raggedly over the water. I didn’t fancy a dip.
Yet, there was more to it than that. An unease hung in the air, something that teased at my hackles. It felt like more than just nerves from chasing a dangerous Irrat.
Without knowing what or from where, I felt ancient eyes upon us, as if some looming predator lured us deeper into its unknown designs.
Here. Gideon startled me out of my reverie. Guess we don’t have to make a choice after all.
The walkway ended before us, the stone masonry covered in green moss. A metallic ladder, somehow not rusted away into nothingness, remained secured against it. That ladder went up three meters to the top of the wall.
This feels too simple. It’s unnerving. I didn’t have words for the odd creeping sensation. Do you feel that?
Oh yes. Gideon nodded at me. It’s something Amir has done, I’m certain. Remember at the cenote? It’s like that.
I do. The moment I thought back, the sensation redoubled, as if centipedes walked on my skin. I found it difficult not to tremble.
Well, whatever it is, cowboy Bishop needs to chill a bit. Rachel’s link felt positively jocular.
We’ll be fine, Gideon replied and gestured at the ladder.
I didn’t even ask. I simply began to ascend.
3
Michael! Rationality shifting! Anya frantically linked the moment I stepped off the ladder onto another walkway, perpendicular to the first. The primary difference seemed to be that this one lay three meters over the shadowed water.
Oh, and the dozen or so masked horrors that lurked there, hiding in shadows.
Even my optics had missed them.
They leaped at me the moment I stepped foot on the stone, their grasping fingers curled into dirty claws.
“URK!” I cried articulately as the first one lunged for me.
He was a male, obvious from his rags that didn’t quite cover everything they needed to. Thanks to my optics, I made out the pale, sallow flesh that hung from his emaciated body, as well as the many cuts and scrapes on his hands and knees. He wore a copper mask, which bore a leering smile and blank, smooth eye sockets. The wearer wouldn’t be able to see through it at all, but nonetheless, the mask seemed to gaze through me.