Cyn

by Cari Silverwood

  They kept driving down the roadway corridor, and all five of them exited at the armory, with Kiko lugging the drone. They found Drummer and a few of his cohort deep inside, standing around work benches and rows of weapons—big guns and little ones, several were on tripods, as well as the guts from inside some mechanical devices. Weaponsmiths were leaning over and adjusting, doing their special beaster craft. Blue danced on their arms. Repairing, she guessed.

  One of them was attending to a row of cellphones.

  She halted, her boots jangling as the silver trinkets tinged against each other, leather creaking—she’d donned a pair of tight-fitting black pants today, along with a black T and a jacket that could’ve been repurposed as a knuckleduster—it sported a lot of metal studs and spikes.

  She addressed Drummer, who straightened as if he’d only just seen them, despite their long march to get here, past the armored vehicles. “We’re back, with the drone.”

  From over his leader’s shoulder, Orin watched them—the ebony-muscled, winged and horned, second-in-command. There was an element of wary kindness to that beaster. Once, when Drummer wasn’t about, she’d seen him confer nicely with the other Warriors, male and female.

  Rutger added, “Where’s Maura?”

  “She’s away somewhere, fiddling with her magic. Or maybe using our comms to talk to other beasters out there.” He waved. “We leapfrogged a message all the way around the world. Everyone knows what we are. So, you have the drone?”

  Magic, first time someone had used that word in front of her.

  With one hand, Kiko held up the heavy drone. “Yes.”

  “Would you like to show me the footage?” His smile stretched across much of his face, as if he dared them.

  “Will you be happy with it is the question?” Vargr spoke up. “It shows a few seconds of the edge of the Top then it cuts away. No Ghoul Lords. Just ghoul guards and a few humans in the background tending some sort of crop.”

  “I see.” Drummer put his hands to his hips, nodded, spilling blue dots from his red-tipped horns. His clawed feet made scratching sounds as he shifted slightly. “So you wasted all your effort. We have nothing. You may go.”

  This beaster really needed smacking. Cyn curled her hands into fists. He noticed and stared directly into her eyes. She’d known. She had.

  The others about her were restless, no doubt they too felt the aggression in Drummer and in his words.

  “Cyn?” Vargr touched her arm lightly. “Your back is glowing. Again.” He grinned then leaned in to whisper. “That’s my demon-girl. This fucker is going to do bad things one day. Be alert.”

  “Don’t we all do that? Bad things?” she answered out the corner of her mouth, found her hand brushing her gun butt. She released it, reluctantly, feeling that fizz from over-tensed muscles as she did so. This was not the answer.

  “Are you all finished discussing your next move?” His underlings were gathering about him, stepping closer. “Say what you want to, to my face. I will listen.”

  And then ignore.

  They’d known he’d likely do this.

  “I remember your imperative,” Rutger began, hands wrapped in his belt, as if he were out for a stroll. “Find the drone. Get footage. We all need each other if we are to destroy the Ghoul Lords.”

  “Go on.”

  “We have the footage. Now we need to discuss strategy.”

  “There is no need for that now. Your brought me nothing. I need proof.”

  Cyn took a step toward him. “Then we will get it. I’ll jack up my nanites. I’ll go to the Top, and I’ll bring back a video with a refurbished cellphone.”

  “This would be useful.” The rock of his head from side to side was still noncommittal. “If you return. The Lure will get you, and that is the true breaking point. The problem.” He turned as he spoke, raising his voice to almost shout as he addressed his followers and the others here.

  “What use is it to know what lurks above? What fucking use! None, if the Lure strikes us down. She will go up? Hah! I challenge that girl.” He glared. “You’ll die, and if you do, there is the end to it. Go suicide. When the Ghoul Lords leave us, we will still be here to pick up the pieces of the world and survive and live on! That is the wise answer, not your stupidity!”

  Spittle had flown with his last words.

  “It’s easy to play the coward and lurk down here.” The growl he gave made her smile, and Rutger and Vargr too. None of them were cowed.

  She looked down and pretended to wipe something off the front of her jacket, before she continued. “Where is your faith in humankind? We should be more than rats in the dark. We are all people! Put your money where your mouth is, Drummer. Be a man, or let me rephrase that—be a good, courageous beaster.”

  His glare intensified, “On thin ice, girl. I can have you and your friends banished. I have more courage than you ever will.”

  “Are you sure all your Warriors agree with you on this stand of yours? Give humans a chance. We are strong, fearless. They were us. We were them. We are still them inside, in our souls. Show your compassion. If I return with video, and if I prove we can resist the Lure, you must promise that you will commit to joining us with all your forces.”

  “I?” Vargr twisted and stared, and looked ready to slap her. “There is no fucking I. We. Three. Yes?” Rutger answered his question with a curt nod.

  “Damn it.” She pinched in her lips. She couldn’t really say no. They had as much choice as she did. Maybe Maura would dissuade them. “Sure.”

  Drummer’s Warriors were murmuring blackly, probably disturbed by her words. She hoped they were disturbed in the right way—her way. Orin bent over and said something to Drummer.

  Cautious, he shook his head then rubbed slowly at his jaw, delaying his answer. “I don’t believe you can do any of this. You will never return, however… if you can do what you say. If. I will promise to help you defeat the Ghoul Lords.”

  She nodded, hearing her friends quietly agree.

  Of course, she didn’t believe Drummer, but she looked to Rutger, Vargr, Kiko, and Vincent.

  It was Rutger who answered her unspoken question. “We’ll all put our stamp of approval on this agreement, and I’m sure so will Maura. But only if Maura says it can work.”

  “Maura gets to have the final say?” She frowned. “And you two want to come despite having no idea as to what I’m aiming to do?”

  They both nodded.

  “Fuck.” She wavered, tapping her finger on her gun holster. “Fine. Maura gets the last say… Drummer?”

  “I’m fine with that too.” His smile was a mocking one. “Orin can give you directions as to how to find Maura.”

  Turning and walking away from him alongside her friends felt as dangerous as wearing a target at a hunter’s convention.

  “You two…” She was still furious. “How will you survive? I mean to enhance my abilities by getting Maura to increase my demon nanites.” If that didn’t work, they were doomed to wait for the Ghoul Lords to eat the last humans and depart at their own pace. Which would suck.

  She could see no other choice.

  “Oh do you now?” Vargr looked across her to where Rutger paced on her other side. They’d almost reached where they’d left Mo on the roadway. The exit framed the pretty black-and-gold vehicle. “Does that sound like something we could do too?”

  Rutger grunted. “Ask Maura. I’m getting no new nanite types though. Gargoyle or nothing. But you definitely need more, V. More of that demon shit, ASAP. When do you plan to leave, Cyn, if we get a green light?”

  “ASAP sounds excellent. I got this creepy vibe from that queen, like maybe the end is coming… that she will launch soon.” She put her boot on Mo’s doorstep, her hand on his shiny black hull—lately that felt comforting, like home. “We’re back, Mo!”

  The door slid open. “I know. My sensors are all working fine, Cyn. Good to see you. I listened to your conversation with Drummer and was surprised to discover my
programming did not agree with me shooting him.”

  Cyn blinked. “We need to have a chat later, Mo.”

  “I would be delighted.”

  Mo had some guns, she knew this, but when or how he could use them… she’d thought it would be human controlled. People controlled.

  As she took the steps in one stride, Vargr followed, and she heard him say what she was thinking.

  “Mo, you aren’t to shoot any humans or beasters unless we say it’s okay.”

  “Understood. I’ll just glare then.”

  She snorted but kept going. The silence afterward was a little worrying.

  The ceiling buzzed as if Mo was deliberately making noises, then, “He did threaten Cyn. What about running him over?”

  Fuck.

  “If you want me to dismantle you piece by piece, Mo, keep asking these questions.” Not at all diplomatic, but Drummer had annoyed her. “Wait, again. Nix what I said. We’ll talk later.”

  “My programming… has now been altered, Cyn. I swear it.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t forget to inform me when I can shoot someone.”

  They found Maura and Locke by following the instructions. She was holed up in a block of apartments further toward the center of the quarter. This was safer than the edge, even with Mo providing early warning.

  The front door was open, and snoring came from within, though a winged beaster stood outside the door, on guard.

  “Go in?” Rutger asked.

  “Sure.”

  Inside was a mess. They waded past junk, and material surely rescued from the vehicle when it was Big Daddy. A comm unit sat on the kitchen table, and Maura and Locke were both asleep on the living room floor, curled up on Toother’s soft underbelly. The nanodog woke as they entered the room, lifting his head and grinning with those triangular teeth. His little wings fluttered—a greeting, she figured. Hoped.

  The sword the doctor had kept lay beside Maura and she couldn’t help noting the blue engraving running down the blade. It didn’t do anything special, yet she was still obsessing over it? Hmmm.

  Maura sat up, climbed to her feet then stood there stretching and yawning, with Locke grinning at them as if they’d won the lotto.

  “You came back! You got the drone?”

  “We got it, Locke. But it was pretty stuffed.” Vargr eyed Toother. “Is this a ménage now? The three of you?”

  “Enough of your lewd humor, Vargr. Wow! You’re here! I’m so happy! I mean I knew you would succeed, but…” Still yawning and rubbing her eyes, Maura indicated the two floral sofas. “Sit down and tell me how it all went. You’ve seen Drummer?” She frowned, as if guessing from their expressions. “I guess you did. That beaster is impossible. Okay. Sit, sit!”

  They sat and then filled her in on events, with Toother nudging aside the coffee table to get at Maura. He laid his big boofy head on the sofa beside her so she could pat him.

  Cyn found herself amused and her day was made better by how animated Maura became—alive more than ever, her white hair writhing with blue tendrils.

  The sword, now, that was another matter. When Maura accidentally brushed against the sheathed weapon where it rested on the sofa, the bastardium glittered. Was Maura revealing all she knew?

  It was what it was. Secrets were needed sometimes.

  As their story unfolded, Maura and Locke added comments.

  “So you agreed to go up Top, the three of you? Interesting and scary. It was always a possibility.”

  “You expect me to inject more nanites in you? Vargr is of course a done deal. The other… I will need to calculate concentrations, doses. If I do this, I’m getting Vincent to help me put permanent vascular ports in you, all of you. I will need that in case something goes wrong.”

  That made Cyn sit up. She wasn’t keen on needles…

  Well, fuck, what had she expected? Going up Top was rife with risk, and the prospect of death. Drummer was right about that. Having a catheter in her arm or wherever, permanently, it was nothing.

  “To make a video you can ask for one of the cellphones they’ve been jazzing up for the skinsuit detection system. There are now hundreds of them fixed and placed in the areas around where everyone is living.”

  “We’ve been busy these last few days,” Locke interjected.

  “We have.” Maura ran her hand over her peacock white-and-blue hair. It sprang up again after her hand released it. “So, I can get the ports in today. Inject you all. The nanites are growing astronomically fast in the new media. I think even…” She tapped her front teeth with a nail. “I think I can send them worldwide, if we can reprogram a drone.”

  “Our drone?” Kiko lifted his head from where he’d been drawing on paper, seemingly oblivious to much of the talking. “It can be done. Mo and I figured out the lack of satellite data had thrown off its location guide. Once we fix that, it can fly again. Any other weaponsmith can readjust it, refuel it, send it onward. We should trial first with somewhere close, like the Worshippers.”

  “Leapfrog it. This is excellent.” Locke nodded. “Can it carry enough weight though? The nanites would need to be packed in small samples.”

  Maura laughed. “They’re nanites. They’ll grow again with instructions. The sample will be tiny and still it will seed the world. As long as we have the beasters’ locations correct?”

  “Yes. And we’ll confirm that with the comms.” Locke’s hand rested on her thigh. “All we need now is to show we can develop Lure Resistance high enough to take the fight to the Ghoul Lords.”

  “Hell yeah.” Rutger looked to her then at Vargr. “We’ll get that for you. As long as you think boosting my gargoyle nanites will do the trick, and whatever else you want to give these two troublemakers.”

  She stayed quiet for a while, looking at the table, at what Kiko was drawing, before answering. “If I knew that for sure, this would be easy, but I think you have a chance. You can test it by approaching the Top cautiously, climb up to the story just beneath. Before we do anything at all, Vargr needs a dose of demon nanites. That those wounds could return as they did, that’s making me feel ill.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll agree with you there. Regrowing lots of holes was not a fun look.”

  Cyn looked steadily around at everyone, making eye contact. “Then it’s on. Green-lighted.”

  “Yay.” Vincent gave that quiet cheer from where he leaned on the wall. “Just remember this has to be a night raid, and that I’m coming too. I can toss you over the edge if I have to. It’d give you a chance to survive if this goes wrong.”

  Everyone looked at him—a few of them open-mouthed.

  It was a good idea.

  “That makes sense, Vincent. Thank you.” Why had they not thought of him? Because there were only three trolls, and because even if he could resist, three was not enough to defeat the Ghoul Lords, and they’d never figure out how to develop a troll army in time.

  And no one would volunteer to be a troll anyway.

  Sucked to be Vincent. She chewed her lip. Though she planned to be the first to climb to Top level, somehow… even if she had to hobble her mates.

  “So… We are doing this.” She placed palm against palm where her hands lay between her knees, feeling that this should be a grand proclamation. This was not an everyday thing. Not at all.

  In the rush to get Drummer on the wrong foot, she’d blundered into this, snarling, a fraction away from pulling out her gun and blowing a hole through his head. Maybe she’d been letting her crazy nanites do the demanding more than she should?

  No, if she had indeed done that—had blown a hole through him—then her nanites would have been in control. She had not. She’d been doing good. It was her who retained the control, so far.

  “I feel I should say this again. For posterity and so none of you can sue me after. You’re in?” Elbow still bent, she raised one fist, halfway.

  Almost as one, every beaster in this room followed suit.

  “Al
l for one,” she said.

  “And one for all!”

  “Me too!” boomed from outside and down the hallway, where they’d left Mo parked.

  She laughed and so did the others. “Good to know!”

  “You’re welcome,” he bellowed back.

  Later on, when she was getting the IV port put in her arm and then even later, when she was lying down on a bed while demon nanites were injected to that precise dose Maura had calculated… with the red surging through the plastic tubing and into her, heating her up with a headache inducing fire. Knowing her Rutger was next with his dose of gargoyle, before V had his top-up dose of demon too…

  Well.

  By then she was feeling decidedly shaky.

  They were going to go topward and kick some ass, very soon. Or get killed.

  This wouldn’t take her full demon, Maura thought, but it would be close. The bondmating nanites would curb that. Still…

  What the fuck were they doing?

  Chapter 16

  One story below the Top the four of them halted. Their Lure Resistance was still there. None of them were being affected and she could see the air was thick with the twirling, twisting menace.

  Talking seemed ridiculously scary to Cyn, and the others hadn’t said much either as they’d climbed the spiraling roadway leading up here. Nothing had been on story minus one from the Top, alive, for five years. Nothing but cockroaches. No human. Ghoul Lords and their underlings didn’t count.

  Stuffed toys and cellphones lined the corridors same as always, but here lay extra poignant debris. The sad exodus of humans to the roof of the scrapers had killed the feeble and the young, first. Small skeletons and baby carriers were plentiful, as were rattles, and dropped toys.

  The apartments this high, this close to the stars and the moon, were the most luxurious on the planet. On the walls of the one they’d chosen as their exit point were works of art she assumed were originals.

  One was of a Campbell’s can of soup on a white background. Hmmm.

  A Frida Kahlo. Knew that one.

  A Da Vinci.

  Perhaps this one was a Renoir? She twisted her mouth, squinted. Or was the melting clock artist someone else? She often confused those.