The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection

by J M Guillen

  What do you mean, Michael? She stepped carefully and watched my every motion.

  “Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around?” I smiled at her. “With you leaning on me?”

  Not in your current state.

  “Anya…” I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m referring to the time you had to lean on me, while your knee was wounded. Although—” A thought occurred to me.

  Although?

  “We’ve been leaning more on you, recently.” I beamed at her with pride. “You’ve really kicked some ass on this dossier!”

  I feel that personal training beyond packet capabilities adds much to an Asset’s value. She stopped for a moment when I winced. I’d placed too much pressure on my leg again.

  “Well, it shows.” I shrugged. “One of these days, maybe you should show me a thing or two about firearms. I’m about useless when my packets go down.”

  I… She stopped mid-stride, her eyes wide. Yes, Michael, that would be lovely. I would enjoy that very much.

  Hoss? Wyatt felt genuinely curious as he linked to me alone. Did I just hear what I thought I heard?

  What?

  Hello, cadre! Stone burst into my Crown like a ray of handsome, annoying sunshine.

  Hello, Liaison. I tested my injured leg and placed far too much weight on it.

  Certainly not because I knew he would feel my physical sensations over the link.

  That would make me a petulant child.

  We’re still responding to all the data from the patch you sent, but in the meantime, I wanted to send you something I’ve cobbled together. Do you have room in memory or would you all rather peruse it manually?

  I… I glanced at Wyatt.

  He shrugged one massive shoulder.

  I nodded my approval. You can port to memory, Demetrius.

  I barely twitched at the small patch. The moment it touched my Crown, I knew its contents, knew them as I knew my own name.

  I sighed as I realized what it held and what that meant.

  Damnit.

  Wyatt might be right.

  The patch contained a combination of historical data and hearsay, myths and broken stories. In it, I found intel that covered the lost civilizations of Malta, the implications of the Santorini eruption, and theories. Many connected the eruption to ancient stories such as the twelve plagues of Egypt, the fall of the Xia Dynasty…

  And the island of Atlantis.

  “Huh.” Wyatt said, innocently.

  “Doesn’t mean anything.” I pointed at him. “That clearly falls under the label ‘Mythological Happenings.’”

  “Come on, Hoss.” He rolled his eyes as if I were the idiot.

  I’ve arranged this intel into two separate packets, Stone informed us. That was just the context package, information easily found in a library.

  Right. Just historical trivia about the area. I frowned. Where was this going?

  This is the intel I found within Facility systems when I did a deepquery for the term ‘M’elphodor.’

  He hit us with a second patch. This one…

  It was nothing one might find in a library.

  In an instant, I learned of Dossier R108-1942, an interesting affair that had taken place during the Siege of Malta in World War Two. The Asset-in-play had been one Leo Telesco, Asset 071.

  I felt certain I knew that name from somewhere.

  Leo had been dispatched when German nationals attempted to influence the outcome of the area’s conflicts. These Irrats had discovered ruins off the coast of Malta. Then, as one does, they evoked and bound the aberrant creatures that dwelt there.

  Creatures that looked like gigantic horror toads, to be precise.

  Leo’s incursion led him to a city trapped within a cavern beneath the sea floor, a city by the name of M’elphodor. There, he hunted and killed the German nationals who’d bargained with the monstrous miscreations but found he’d arrived too late.

  The creatures, which Telesco said were named the Phothu-nacyi, were pleased to have been awakened. They did not wish to return to their watery burrows. In fact, the abomination they worshipped drove them to awaken the rest of their kind and begin an invasion of the world of man.

  All in all, the adventure was gripping. Telesco collapsed one of the caverns the Phothu-nacyi dwelt within, drove back the serpentine god-thing, and escaped the scene in a stolen U-boat.

  The dossier didn’t mention the man’s huge fucking balls, but it was heavily implied. I assumed he’d seduced his way across Europe afterward in an appropriately gritty and badass manner.

  All of this came in less than a second, information ingrained in our minds.

  “So.” Wyatt cleared his throat. “An actual lost city in the Mediterranean Sea. That’s pretty interesting.”

  I thought you might find that intel pertinent. If I can do anything else for you, Alpha, please let me know, Stone linked.

  I… I will, Stone. Thanks.

  He terminated the link.

  “We’ll talk about your crazy theories.” I gazed at Wyatt and shook my head. “Can we please just get through the aperture so Rachel can give me more drugs first?”

  “Drugs can open the mind,” he said. “I ever tell you about a little festival called Burning Man?”

  “One bit of weird at a time,” I insisted. “Let’s move.”

  Back in the stone hallway Wyatt had secured, I lay on the floor while being worked over by a self-proclaimed beautiful genius.

  Rachel was a true maestra at her craft, and I zipped along, happily doped up on mecha and endorphins. Eventually, she had me back in one piece, soft-synced and all.

  “You’ll be a bit sore,” the Caduceus warned. “You’ll have a touch of a limp for a few hours. You’ll also probably crave red meat for a week, as the mecha’s synthetic proteins fade.”

  “Fine.” I waved a hand as I tested my leg. I could feel the soreness she spoke of, but all in all…

  She was a miracle worker.

  “—which is why Plato didn’t understand shit about Atlantis,” Wyatt finished.

  “Okay, buddy.” I nodded at him. “Just please don’t tell Delacruz you know more about Plato than she does.”

  “That’s a lost cause.” He shook his head. “She’s a smart lady, but sometimes, she’s hard to convince.”

  “Speaking of Delacruz, I should raise her. It’s about time for us to move along.”

  Michael, Anya shouldered her telemetry relay pack. I have made use of this time to harmonize some of my resonators. She held out her hand with four of the black spheres that boosted her range.

  “Oh yeah?” I smiled at her. “Are we placing them as we go along?”

  Actually, I thought I might have each of you carry one. As we engage hostiles and move forward, the resonators will boost my telemetric radius.

  “Huh.” I picked up one of the marble-sized devices. “Wouldn’t you get a better signal if you had an immobile net of them?”

  Well, yes, she admitted. Yet I imagine our efforts might not require telemetry behind us as much as the area around us.

  “How much of a boost can you expect from having these near you?”

  Depending upon distance, my calculations show a radius increase between fifteen point nine and thirty-two point one percent.

  “And they’re ready now?”

  Each is harmonized, yes.

  “Okay.” I pocketed mine. “That’s brilliant.”

  Delacruz, how’s my unseen gate coming?

  I’ve passed the caverns, Alpha. They’re labyrinthine.

  You’ve passed them? I furrowed my brow.

  Toady was everywhere, but it’s far easier when alone with the Gatekeeper. They never got close, and I made it through.

  Into what?

  I’ve tried to stay true to the reticule Anya gave me for the location of the Variance. We set that as Locale One on my visual.

  Good move, I nodded.

  Mike, this whole thing about a city…

  Yeah?
>
  Incoming patch.

  As a polite person would, Delacruz patched to my Crown’s deck, which allowed me to peruse the intel as I chose. As it turned out, she only sent about ten still images.

  Yet, those surreal visions haunted me.

  From her position, Delacruz overlooked an immense cavern, one filled with clustered structures of green and gray stone, often accented with copper or bronze. It seemed no true plan had been followed in their creation as the streets between them wound around and twisted back upon themselves.

  Yet many unnatural towers bent in all kinds of impossible directions as they stretched upward. In multiple cases, these stretched up the wall all the way to the ceiling of the cavern, which also held clusters of the organic constructions.

  Those buildings appeared as if they’d been chipped out of the very earth, chiseled rather than built with stone or clay. Many lurched to one side or stretched up only to taper off at a bizarre, unnatural angle.

  Scarlet lights which burned with a wrath all their own, shone from many of the buildings’ windows. In other places luminescent fronds hung from ceilings and roofs, writhing of their own accord and glowing with eldritch, blue-green light.

  Those fronds made my stomach feel queasy if I stared too long.

  There had to be water in there. Wyatt insisted. Some of those doors make no sense unless you can swim into them.

  Among those structures, thousands of the frogish aberrations waddled, groaked, and yeeeeerped.

  The Phothu-nacyi.

  Problem is they’ve got those pools of theirs all over the place. The cavern is littered with [fucking] aberrant vectors.

  So we’re going home? Rachel teased hopefully.

  I’ve done the math. I can get us in, but it will take a few apertures to do it. Its best if no single one carries too heavy of an atomic load.

  What does that mean? I massaged my neck.

  It means the best way forward brings us in at about one hundred meters or so apart. I can bring one or two people in per aperture, but then I’ll need to use another one as the field collapses.

  Oh, that sucks. Wyatt frowned. So it puts a couple of us alone with the frogs in an unknown locale.

  Only for a few moments, Delacruz clarified. We should be close enough that a rendezvous isn’t difficult.

  I sighed. Nothing could ever be easy. How long will it take you to figure your equations, Delacruz?

  Oh, they’re done, she linked with a hint of pride. I mean, who do you think you’re working with?

  Alright, Gatekeeper. I studied the rest of my cadre and tried to determine if they had any reservations, maybe something they weren’t telling me.

  No. Rachel didn’t smile, but she had her game face on. Wyatt gave me a thumbs up, and Anya nodded.

  I took a breath forcing myself to relax.

  Let’s do it, Sofia. Tell me how you want to do this.

  The Road Unseen

  The winding path just went on and on.

  Far above me, the ceiling constantly dripped with seawater. Those oddly glowing fronds hung down from it and emitted their soft, shimmering light. They cast glints and rays of aquamarine all through the shadowy realm.

  I blinked and turned away, discomforted. The light nauseated me if I looked at it for too long.

  Michael, I show you approximately ninety-two meters away from my location. Asset Guthrie, you and Asset Delacruz are approximately fifty meters away from my location.

  We already talked about not getting split up, I groused. How does this keep happening?

  It’s always the bad guy’s fault, Wyatt explained.

  Nope. Delacruz glared over the link. I am not a bad guy.

  Naw. He shook his head. Ain’t sayin’ you are. It’s the damned vectors that screwed your portals, right?

  I covered a snort-laugh.

  Sofia glared at me anyway.

  And the vectors are due to the pools, Wyatt continued. Which are the bad guys’ fault. If they’d just sit still and let me kill them, we wouldn’t end up all over the place.

  It doesn’t make things any easier that the roads here aren’t straight. I sucked at my teeth. Anya, can you give me a token showing your basic location?

  Copy that, Michael. A white indicator appeared over my vision, and I blinked at it repeatedly. I’ll do the same for the rest of the cadre.

  The passageways wound sinuously around each other, labyrinthine. Every ten or twelve meters the wall would indent into a small cavern. Each of these twisted for a meter or two before ending in a pool of briny water.

  I didn’t want to think about where those pools went, yet I couldn’t help it. The most comforting idea might be that they were homes for the Phothu-nacyi, as that felt comprehensible. Yet they could just as easily be murder holes for the bones of their victims or passages to some watery, alternate murder-topia. They might be living shrines to the Unfathomable, with a captive human population kept alive through constant breeding—

  “I really shouldn’t think about this,” I muttered and blinked twice, a sure sign the Wraith would give me a blinding headache if I didn’t gear it down soon. That was a plate of trouble I didn’t want to deal with yet. All alone, I didn’t exactly feel comfortable walking around the sunken temple city of M’elphodor without being invisible.

  I supposed if it got too bad, I’d just have my Caduceus deal with it.

  “I have people now,” I muttered. “What good is having people if they can’t take care of your problems?”

  Hey, Rachel. I sent my most charming smile along with the link.

  You want something. I felt her grin back. Remember, I can see your holography. I know when you think you’re being smooth.

  Think? I widened my eyes, as if affronted. I am always smooth.

  How’s that leg, smooth guy? Something within my Crown shifted as Rachel dug her grubby fingers into my neuralware.

  Sore, I admitted. I’m pretty limpy, but the Adept helps a lot.

  Let me check on something real quick, Alpha. I’ll be right back.

  Copy that. I blinked.

  As the odd thoroughfare widened, I saw several of the froggy- aberrations ahead, milling about what could almost be considered a roughly hewn square. A fountain lay squarely in the center of the plaza, and several Phothu-nacyi splashed within it.

  I’ve encountered more toadys, I linked.

  I don’t know what you’re worried about, Delacruz snarked. You smell like toad placenta. Just walk right by them.

  Also, you’re invisible, Wyatt jibed. As someone who can only occasionally be invisible, I worry you overlook that.

  One, I need to gear down the Wraith soon.

  Ganglionic cluster headache, Delacruz acknowledged. Sucks.

  Right. And two, I worry about relying on my wonderful odor. The stuff has dried, and a lot of it has flaked off. I’d hate to count on it and be wrong.

  Do we need to rendezvous? I felt Wyatt raise one bushy eyebrow. We could meet up and then head toward Rachel and Twitchy.

  Negative. I sighed. I’m still beneath the Wraith for now. I’ll slip by; I just wanted you to be aware of my status.

  Copy that, Alpha, Wyatt linked.

  I crept toward the square, my disruptors at the ready. Not one of the Phothu-nacyi so much as glanced up as I got close but continued to frolic in the water and “Grooooak” at each other in their obscene tongue.

  Occasionally, some would stop and—

  What were they staring at? I turned to see.

  Every few moments their attention would be drawn as if they’d heard something. They would stop in place and stare toward the southeast. Those huge, empty eyes would simply gaze upward, as if they sensed something I couldn’t see.

  Abruptly they shook it off again. Some blinked or croaked a time or two, but they went back to shuffling within the fountain.

  It’s not me, I realized and relaxed just a bit.

  As they moved around within the fountain, I’d peered closer. They weren’t simply sp
lashing like kids at play.

  No, this was more of a dance. They moved in concert with each other as they spun and took specific, coordinated steps. Every so often, a few stopped in place and gazed off into nothingness.

  When the group shifted to one side, I glimpsed a woman behind them.

  ‘Woman’ might have been an exaggeration or at least something no longer technically true. She sat off to one side, lying against one of those chiseled stone walls. Her skin seemed more liquid than solid, a melting, semi-transparent, ruinous mass. Her eyes bugged out of her face, and her nose had practically vanished. Nude, her breasts hung as atrophied sacks of flesh, like the muscle on her arms and legs. Her hair had once been dark perhaps, but now so much of it had fallen out that I couldn’t quite tell.

  Beneath her nearly transparent flesh, a darkness coiled.

  I peered, trying to figure out—

  The black tadpole-horror inside her twitched. Its small arms wriggled, offset by its shrunken tail.

  I gagged. The woman mumbled something, whispering words I couldn’t quite make out.

  Oh God, I linked my cadre. There’s a woman down here.

  One of the cultists? Rachel inquired.

  I don’t think so. I took a few steps closer and peered in fascinated horror. I think she might be a woman infected by their spawn. I sent a quick patch to give them a look at her.

  Oh. Wyatt’s tone held a roiling revulsion. Oh fuck, Hoss.

  “I didn’t have the coins,” she mumbled, twitching. “The moonlight has eyes, and it seeks.”

  Michael, what are you going to do? Anya’s tone held gentle concern. It is certainly too late for this woman.

  We assume. I watched as she twitched and mumbled something about “the trials of the young.” Her mind could be completely whole, stuck in there but recoverable.

  Oh, Alpha, Rachel linked. Isn’t there anything you can do?

  Damn, but I wanted to. The woman simply gaped at nothingness, muttered, and twitched. I couldn’t imagine what her life must be like, trapped here in eternal shadows with only these amphibious abominations for company.

  The thought horrified me.

  There’s a good— I stopped midlink to count —eight of the Phothu -nacyi next to me. I mean, I could shoot her or perhaps stab her with a katana. But… I shook my head.