The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection

by J M Guillen

  Mark, Gatekeeper.

  WHUF! WHUF! Wyatt ignited his stasis fields in the same moment that Sofia connected her apertures.

  Through the aperture, I saw a long hallway, and several shadowed figures surreptitiously crouched in alcoves.

  One of them stood and fired, squeezing off three rounds that zipped past our heads.

  From my new perspective, I realized Sofia had located the aperture behind the hostile party.

  Can we turn this thing? I glanced toward Sofia, forgetting we both had the Wraith engaged. Empty air crouched under the Delacruz marker. It would be best if I could get a full view.

  I can shift the aperture’s orientation. She paused for just a moment. Hold on, don’t get dizzy.

  Slowly, my perspective rotated as if I peered through a spinning periscope. Finally the quarrel came to rest in another of the small square rooms, complete with crypts in the corners. I didn’t see any other hostiles, aside from the three that stood between the aperture and our location.

  Anya, what are Rationality readings like on those folks?

  Baseline, Alpha. She paused a moment, and I knew her well enough to know that she double-checked. No Irrational signatures in that hallway.

  Well, then this’ll be easy. Sofia, I need you to let Papa Bear over there use the aperture. Wyatt, I need you to shoot a quarrel straight through and knock these fools out with some of the noxious gas you’re always so proud of.

  Desflurane gas?

  Sure. I guess that gas’ll work just as well. I grinned and knew he would feel it through the link.

  As with all of my genius plans, this worked like a charm. Moments later, two men and one woman lay sprawled on the floor, out cold.

  I think we got lucky with that one, Sofia linked.

  Luck? I scoffed as we crept forward beneath the Wraith. No way. That was pure Facility-grade genius.

  I hope you can be so brilliant for the rest of this mission.

  Hope? I chortled out loud a little. Delacruz, we both know that hope and luck don’t have anything to do with it. I almost wish we’d encounter something else, just to show you.

  “Graak. Graaaaaaaak.” The sound echoed ahead and to the left, within a narrow side passage.

  Sofia and I halted in place at the same instant.

  Coincidental, that. I felt her raise one eyebrow.

  They could see though the Wraith, remember. I paused. Well, that last one could at least.

  Right. The soft song of the gatekeeper indicated she fired a quarrel at our feet.

  Alpha, Anya warned, Rationality is dipping, four meters to your left, by two point five meters in front of you.

  Understood. I dialed up the force on my Stilettos and adjusted the toggle with my thumbs. We crept forward, our eyes focused on the passageway that wound off to our left.

  The amphibious fiend leapt from the passageway to the right, where it’d been hidden in shadows.

  “[Fuck!]” Delacruz cried, taken completely by surprise.

  The creature barreled down upon her and pinned her to the ground.

  “Sofia!” I cried and whirled toward her, both pistols aimed at her assailant. I pulled the trigger before she even had time to respond.

  Kinetic energy burst from my weapons with a loud crackle. One shot struck the floor, while the other punched the back of the frog-aclysm‘s head with the force of a Major League fastball.

  “RAAAACKK!” it cried and leaped away from Delacruz into the darkness.

  “Fine.” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m—”

  A fetid and stench overwhelmed us as something crashed against her back. I heard the tinkle as it shattered, not the heavy clay of the amphora, but a delicate, crystalline tinkle.

  “Bishop!” Sofia screamed. The terror in her voice, the sheer horror, broke my heart.

  What’s happening?

  I’m stuck! Oh, [fuck me]!

  Alpha, we are advancing, Anya linked.

  I stumbled back from Delacruz, uncertain what had happened.

  A sickly, yellowish resin had spread across her back, legs, and arms. It crackled as it oozed over her and dried almost instantly into a hard, amber-like substance.

  “[Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!]” she growled. “Bishop, what is it, what is this [shit]?”

  I don’t know. I struck at the dried substance with the butt of my disruptor but didn’t even dent it. Whatever it was spread quickly and dried so rigidly that Sofia couldn’t move.

  I began to panic.

  “Get it off! I can’t move my legs!”

  “Come on, come on…” I struck the substance harder.

  I had no idea what it might be, but I knew one thing for certain. If trapped, Delacruz was all but helpless. Only one arm and her torso remained free.

  At least it hadn’t covered her face. If it’d covered her face, I felt certain she would have suffocated.

  “Halt!” The voice came from behind me, a strong, authoritarian tone. “We know you’re there.”

  Shit.

  I’m fine. Sofia’s thought came like lightning. I mean, not fine, but it’s stopped spreading now.

  I’ll be right back, I promised her.

  I’ll count on that, gringo.

  I toggled the Adept and holstered my disruptors faster than the eye could see. As I leapt back toward that voice, I drew the Shogun-class katana off my back.

  The asshole fired, right where I’d just been.

  I swung the blade, coming in for a totally sweet shot right to the fucker’s neck.

  Yet he dodged, hurling himself backward so frantically it almost seemed as if he’d planned the move instead of freaking the fuck out.

  That couldn’t be, I decided. Bad guys were only supposed to freak out at my awesomeness.

  “You think you’re leaving here alive?” The man mocked as he stumbled backward and caught his footing. “You think anything you do will make a difference?”

  “I think I can kill you.” I leapt, an eager blade in each hand. Since it seemed the jackass knew vaguely where I stood anyway, I toggled off the Wraith. The packet would only make me twitchy if I left it on for long.

  “No,” the man muttered. “My death has already been taken from me.” He held up a large, thick disk.

  Before I had a chance to say another word, he snapped it in his hands, and broke the thing like clay.

  Rationality spiking! Right in front of you, Alpha!

  “What in the exact fuck?” Wyatt drawled just behind me.

  Even so, I didn’t turn to face him.

  The moment Zealator McFuckface snapped that little clay coin, a brilliant, violet symbol blossomed into existence upon his forehead. It formed a crown around his brow, a diadem of darkling horror that sang a dirge of despair and lost, forsaken things.

  “Striyos the Scythe holds my death now, Asset.” In the light of his hideous crown, I saw the man couldn’t be more than twenty-two. He had mussed brown hair and patchy black stubble. A black, greasy substance had been smeared over his eyelids.

  Is that why he could see me? Regardless, the gleam in his eye shone with madness.

  “Bishop…” Wyatt warned.

  Four shambling shapes waddled up behind the Zealator. Squat and inhuman, they croaked and grunted as they shuffled wetly forward.

  “Striyos, who is also Ugorhamottha, hear my—”

  “No. Fuck that.” I sprang into motion and allowed my Crown to sync with the Shogun blades. Effortlessly, I swung my right arm in a wide arc that whistled and sliced the air.

  The asshole sprung backward to continue his mad litany.

  Yet the Shogun seemed to anticipate his move. As soon as I landed, I jumped, spun again, and swung my left-hand blade squarely at the man’s face.

  “Arrrg!” He clutched his cheek where I’d sliced him as blood splattered against the stone floor.

  WHUF! Wyatt fired behind me, and the spike sailed over my shoulder to spear into the floor behind the Zealator.

  What is it? I linked Wyatt. Wil
l it explode or set the air on fire?

  Less than a second later, one of the shambling toadies stepped within its range and furious white electricity arced into the creature from the thick metal spike.

  That. I felt his smugness in the link. That’s what it is. The smell of rotten, cooked flesh filled the air.

  Wow. Good work.

  That’s right, croaky.

  I felt Wyatt’s glee as light filled the small passageway from his little flash-fry. The arc continued for several long seconds, and the creature screamed a wet, guttural cry. As it shrieked, the young trapped in glistening bubbles on its back wriggled free but fell to the ground and smoldered.

  “Arrogant fool,” the Zealator snarled. He raised one hand, as if to hurl something at me.

  “Yes?” I stepped closer and drew the katana back, as if about to strike. Instead, still holding the blade, I punched him squarely in the face.

  His nose exploded with blood, and he staggered back.

  “Strike them! Strike them!” the Zealator ranted as he crab walked along the floor. The sigil of maddened fury burnt upon his brow, and he shoved his palm in my general direction, as if I were within reach.

  Air exploded from my lungs as something gargantuan and powerful beyond comprehension struck me. I flew back three meters and slammed into the crystalline amber holding Sofia.

  She slumped forward, seemingly dazed, but held in place by the resin.

  Unconscious? I puzzled as I gazed up at her. Why would she be unconscious?

  I shook my head and searched for the Zealator. I needed to stay focused on—

  Gone. The man had simply vanished.

  “Graak!”

  My head whirled to the right at the sound.

  Three more of the entities had decided to take one of the other passages to detour around the first.

  Apparently, they weren’t interested in being electrocuted.

  Incoming! I sheathed one blade and drew my disruptor. I squeezed off three shots as fast as possible, trying to keep the squat little horrors at bay.

  One shot struck, a kinetic burst cracking through an amphibian skull. The other two froggers leapt forward with alarming alacrity.

  Michael! Anya’s cry of alarm heralded the landing of a slimy organism right next to me.

  The awful briny scent of the miscreation filled the air immediately.

  Before I could react to the olfactory assault, it swiped at me with one of its clawed arms and hissed.

  “Shit!” Three strips of fire opened across my face as stubby, razor-claws sliced into me. Its strike knocked me backward, and I fell flat on my ass.

  WHUF! The battle cry of Wyatt’s Tangler sang behind me, and a spike burst into the creature’s neck.

  It screamed a horrific, gurgling cry.

  Back, Hoss!

  Wyatt didn’t need to tell me twice. Already the spike had begun to incandesce, at first ruddy, then yellow, then a brilliant, horrific white. The spike seared the amphibian, which unleashed a truly awful screech. It stumbled forward and frantically attempted to claw the metal spike from its body.

  Its young exploded from its back.

  “Fuck, no.” I toggled the Adept and rolled away from the frog-perversions quickly as I could. Flipping the focus of my Stiletto as wide as it would go, I fired multiple times down the hallway.

  Both of the horror-toads flew backward, flung as if by a tow truck. The larvae couldn’t stand against the kinetic blast, and they spun backward as well, like pollywogs caught in the fierce current of a river.

  Perfect, Wyatt’s link felt smug. I heard him tap a few keys, and the spike he’d embedded within the body exploded, shredding the aberration where it lay.

  Incoming. Anya’s link felt sterile, matter of fact, but was accompanied by the bark of her SIG.

  I whirled, terrified that perhaps more of the toad-creatures had slipped around behind us. They were remarkably fast, and if we weren’t careful, they’d be on us before we knew what happened.

  Where’s crazy-cult boy? Wyatt faced the north, even as Anya shot into the darkness.

  I pulled myself to my feet and trotted over next to her. No idea, I linked as I spun my disruptor toward whatever Anya shot at. I’d already fired twice before I realized what was there.

  Several masked, emaciated figures shambled toward us from the darkness. Just as before, those masks had no eyes and bore intricate scrawlings on their surface.

  Several of the figures were naked or nearly so. Most carried simple, edged weapons.

  They are slow. Anya fired twice more and dropped a couple of the creatures with tidy, precise forehead shots.

  Distractions, I imagine. I raised an eyebrow.

  Agreed. I have this quarter. Find the Irrat.

  Do you think he went north? I linked Wyatt as I took a couple of steps, then stopped. Will I get electrocuted if I go this way?

  No. I heard him tap a couple of keys. I mean, not now.

  Place stasis fields, to the west and east. Not triggers, active fields.

  Will comply, Alpha.

  Place a triggered field a few meters south of Anya. If she starts to get overrun, let it kick on.

  I will not get overrun. Anya fired three more times. I am a better shot than you are, Michael Bishop.

  I hated to admit it, but she was probably right.

  I’ll scout ahead. While Wyatt set the stasis fields, I crept north with my Stiletto in my left hand, my Shogun in the right. As I went forward, dappled azure light shimmered from the room in front of me.

  Wyatt. I took a breath and caught the scent of brine and rot. Every ounce of my focus bent toward caution. I think the pool is in this next room.

  Should I come and close it? Leave these two?

  Go ahead and set off the stasis field in front of Anya. With our backs secure, we’ll see about freeing Delacruz.

  Less than five seconds later, I heard the trademark WHOMP of Wyatt’s stasis field.

  Curious, Anya linked.

  What’s that, Preceptor? I glanced back over my shoulder at her.

  Diagnostic readings of our Gatekeeper show this substance to be not of Earth, yet not necessarily Irrational.

  Say again? I felt Wyatt scratch his head.

  There are no Irrational properties within the substance. It may have been deployed via Irrational means, yet the substance itself is organic in nature.

  But not of Earth. I continued to watch the passageway, expecting a horde of troglodytes to come gibbering forth. What about Delacruz?

  She’s still out, Wyatt replied. I just poked her, and she didn’t so much as snarl.

  I lack the diagnostic tools I would require to determine Asset Delacruz’s state. Anya paused. That said, the organic substance she is trapped within contains several toxic biomarkers, which could diminish consciousness.

  Perhaps it’s penetrating her skin. I shook my head. Rachel would have been able to figure this out in about thirty seconds.

  Alpha, I have a bit of an idea?

  I’m all ears, Guthrie.

  If this stuff is biological, it shouldn’t be too hard to shatter. I bet me and Twitchy here can find a resonant frequency that won’t break Sofia’s bones.

  She’d appreciate that, I chuckled.

  There is still the matter of toxins, Anya reminded us.

  Yeah, I don’t know how much you know about the Tangler, but it vents some pretty nasty stuff. Every Artisan you’ve ever seen is jacked up on type III viral mecha, just to keep their blood, kidneys, and liver clean.

  Since when do you care about your liver?

  Point is this pack I wear has about twenty vials of type III. He patted the bundle on his right hip gently. I can probably spare a few to hopefully detoxify Senorita Sarcasm over there.

  Good play. How long do you think all that will take?

  I have determined the resonant frequency in the time this conversation took, Anya linked with more than a little pride.

  Link me the stats, and let’s get ’er
done. Even if the mecha doesn’t work, she’s coming with us.

  Excellent work, you guys. I couldn’t help but smile as I linked. Let’s get Delacruz out, and then we’ll move on.

  Catacombs

  A few minutes later, Delacruz was conscious. She stumbled like a newborn giraffe, but she stood.

  What was that stuff? She picked some of the yellowish resin from her skin and flicked it away. I feel like I’ve been drinking for three days.

  What kind of lady knows what it feels like to drink for three days? Wyatt teased.

  Alabama, I will drink you under the table and laugh while I do it.

  We’ll have to try that sometime.

  “She still owes me a drink sometime.” I jerked my chin at Delacruz. “But I’m glad to see that she’s up and around.”

  “Eventually I’ll remember how to walk.” She bent over and retrieved the gatekeeper crossbow. “What’s next?”

  This way. I gestured down the hallway. It’s our next rift.

  “Let’s fucking close the thing and get gone.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even get to see any of Rome, but I think I’m done here.”

  While my friends had freed the Gatekeeper, I’d stood in the hallway, on high alert. I’d watched the light from the pool flicker and had the opportunity to enjoy a dee-licious scent that seemed to stick to my skin like rancid fish shit.

  Any moment, I’d expected frog monsters to come pouring out of that room. Yet they hadn’t.

  All remained quiet.

  I’m going to hold on triggering the Wraith. I nodded at Delacruz to indicate she should do the same. Froggy could definitely see me, and it seemed like cult boy had a decent idea of where I stood.

  It is not worth the wear on your synaptic systems if the packet is not functioning properly, Anya agreed.

  What I want to know is why. Wyatt tapped at a few of keys as he linked. I’ve never encountered Irrats that can just dismiss a packet.

  I don’t know that’s what this latest guy was doing. I shook my head. Not like Amir, anyway. That asshole would just wave a hand, and my shit would shut down.

  The Zealator had an unknown substance around his eyes. Anya linked. Perhaps that allowed him greater perceptual acuity?

  My question stands; I still wanna know how they do it. Wyatt glanced up from his keys, and light filtered through his oculus. Although, for now, I’ll table the question.