by Eyal Kless
Instead I asked out loud, “So what happened next?”
Rafik took a tentative step towards the table. “Before Adam unleashed Tarakan’s retaliation, it released the essence of our people into the air.” Rafik raised his arms and opened his hands towards the sky above us. “And then Adam locked parts of himself away so that no one, no one, not even Adam himself, could access the knowledge inside.”
“He shot himself in the leg,” Bayne mumbled.
Rafik nodded. “This is how important it was to keep our achievements safe.”
Or clean the field to win the war, and damn the consequences, I thought.
“Adam anticipated that the most vicious attacks would centre here, in the Valley. It used to be a place filled with parks and trees, now nothing can grow on the scorched earth. But as the rest of the planet slowly healed, the essence Adam released landed in places far away from the Valley. Plants grew with the Tarkanian essence in them, animals ate the plants, and the surviving humans drank the water, gathered the plants, and hunted the animals. As planned, it did not take long for the essence to manifest itself—in the form of tattoos combined with a longing, a desire, to come back here to the inner sanctum.”
When you’re in the Valley you just want to get the rust out. This time it was Vincha’s voice that rang in my mind. But when you’re away you start missing this crappy sandbox so much you end up going to a Salvationist bar every night and drinking your wages away just so you have an excuse to come back.
Rafik’s words stopped me from getting lost in my own thoughts. “The opening of the City of Towers was the first stage in preparation for the reawakening of Tarakan civilisation. Then came the Tubes that brought you to the Valley and eventually into the City within the Mountain. Every time a Puzzler joins Adam, another part of the code is completed, and Adam regains strength. Once we gathered enough code, we could manifest ourselves again. Tarakan would be reawakened.”
“Wait,” I said, leaning forward and pointing a finger at Rafik. “You mean all of this, all of us”—my finger drew a wide circle—“the Combat Trolls, the Gadgetiers, Vincha, Galinak, myself . . . we’re all here just to help Tarakan bring back some lost codes?”
“Yes, but not exactly.” Rafik tilted his head at me. “This method, this plan, was never tested. To ensure success under these conditions, the Tarakan essence was enhanced to be powerful, not subtle, but the human makeup is so complex that the variables were incalculable, even to Adam. The essence we spread changed, mutated, in unpredictable ways, and many different types of what is known now as ‘the marked’ were created, each with their own powers.”
Rafik gestured at the people around the table. “Some got to be stronger or faster, others could see better or hear hidden sound waves.” He looked at me and then at Vincha. “A few could even instinctively understand Tarakan technology.”
“So, not exactly as planned, was it?” River, who was silent since we landed in the clearing, surprised us all by commenting.
“Naturally, once it became clear that the essence was creating all kinds of Trolls and not just Puzzlers, we had to adjust, even improvise. We anticipated you would try and manipulate Tarakan technology for your own gains, and attach Guardian Angel augmentations to your human bodies, but we were sure the rejection fever from the augmentation would stop it from being so widely used. Then, of course, you invented Skint.” Rafik chuckled in a very unchildlike way. “Now that was human ingenuity at its best and worst. Regardless, only one type of tattoo carries a piece of the code in its correct form—the Puzzler’s, and even many of them do not carry the right code. The rest of you are—” he paused, clearly trying not to be offensive “—nonessential.”
“Rust,” Galinak swore under his breath.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, nervously tapping my finger on the table, “the nodes, the artifacts, the nourishment pills, the devices . . . ?”
“Just a way to help Puzzlers reach us. Of course, we’re glad the nodes helped form a stable society in the City of Towers and its proximity, but we did not foresee that it would be like this.”
“Right,” Jakov said suddenly, “so you’re a Puzzler, you came and joined this Adam. All well and good, but what’s the story with the Lizards? And why are we not all hailing the Lords of Tarakan?”
“Cain was not destroyed,” Rafik answered, “and is still working tirelessly to defeat Tarakan. Adam and Cain are still battling each other. Every move Adam makes, Cain counters, and vice versa. I brought you through the safer parts of the city, but it is a sad fact that Cain is immensely powerful, holding the majority of the inner sanctum and the city itself, including several of the labs used to grow Angels and Guardian Angels. Luckily it does not have the ability to create the true variety, so it creates the closest thing it can: Lizards.”
“This does not sound logical,” I said. “What does the creation of Lizards have to do with all of this?”
It was the first time Rafik took time to consider his words. “Adam and Cain possess intelligence that far exceeds human capabilities. They have been locked in a fierce battle for generations, and both learn, evolve, and change. The only constant is Cain’s unwavering desire to destroy Tarakan. I cannot fully understand nor explain Cain’s tactics, but I know for a fact that when I came to the inner sanctum with Nakamura and joined Tarakan, Cain somehow used my joining to launch an attack and gain control to the main gates of the City within the Mountain. It then flooded the Valley with Lizards, and they destroyed the Hive. Cain keeps creating them to this day, and its tactics achieve two goals. First, without the help of the Salvationists, it is close to impossible for other Puzzlers to reach Tarakan. Second, since both Cain and Adam draw power from the same source, constantly creating Lizards weakens us to the point that we are struggling to survive.”
I tried to imagine my LoreMaster’s reaction when I got to tell him everything that I now knew. To hear definite answers to questions we’d always had was nothing short of overwhelming.
“If we are so unecessary,” Jakov piped up, and there was a definite bitterness in his tone, “then why are we here?”
“You are not without use,” Rafik said, “but before I answer you, Jakov, I want to say that seeing the man who sold me like a piece of merchandise when I was just a little boy does give me a sense of closure.”
Jakov grimaced but said nothing.
“I am not seeking revenge,” Rafik added gently, “but perhaps I could help you gain redemption.”
It suddenly dawned on me that this image, if he truly was the boy Puzzler, was using emotional manipulation to get to all of us. I could sense there was something Rafik wanted, something he, or Adam, needed us to do, and they were desperate enough to let us into the place where no Troll had ever gone before. As I heard Rafik’s words, for the first time since I stepped into the City within the Mountain, I felt as if a trap was closing in on us all.
As if reading my thoughts Rafik turned to me. “Right now, Cain is slowly winning,” he said, his tone of voice reassuring. “We need to turn the balance of power back in our favor before all will be lost. Adam has devised a plan to retake a major Angel laboratory, but we need your help to go in and initiate the takeover manually. Once it is done, we could slow if not completely stop the creation of Lizards. Since they have a relatively short life span, and assuming the Salvationists would eventually return, we believe the Valley could be cleansed of the Lizards.”
So. This is how it feels when the trap closes in on you. I saw Vincha pale.
“Wait just one rusting moment.” Jakov rose to his feet, and a few of the Trolls stood up with him. “You want all of us to walk into a territory controlled by some kind of a mastermind, into a place where thousands of Lizards are being created, and help you take it over? Sounds like suicide to me.”
Rafik was almost too quick to answer, betraying he had anticipated this reaction. “We are not throwing your lives away. The success of this mission is vital to us, so it is only logical you wil
l not be sent without a fair chance of succeeding. One of the main problems we face is that Cain can sometimes monitor Adam’s communications, but with Vincha we could circumvent this difficulty and keep it in the dark. Once you are in Cain’s territory, we will attack with other means and distract it. There is a good chance you will not have to fire a shot.”
Rafik looked at the other Trolls. “We will replace all of your Guardian Angel attachments with true Tarakan devices. You will be the most powerful of your kind.”
Turning to Vincha, Rafik said, “Our augmentations will be biologically tailored to your natural essence. You will be able to do all that you could do before, and more, without pain, rejection fever, or the need of Skint.”
Rafik then turned back to Jakov. “We will regenerate your body. You will be whole again. Think of it—this is not different from a deep run, but now you know what you are about to face. I assure you that after the mission, you could keep the attachments and leave with supplies and enough coin to make this a very profitable venture. Once the Valley is cleansed, we hope you will come back with other Puzzlers, and if you do, you will be handsomely rewarded.”
Jakov remained silent.
Rafik’s offer and comparison to a deep run must have made perfect sense, and his mention of healing was a masterstroke. But the man was a shrewd merchant and he knew, as I did, that the sweeter the deal, the harder the terms actually are. In short, we were all knee deep in rust.
As I anticipated, Rafik did not push Jakov further, but let his words sink in. He turned his attention to Vincha instead. “The younger the Puzzler, the easier the transition. I hope I will meet your offspring soon.”
Vincha looked as if she’d just been shot. “How—?”
“When we shared Beethoven’s music through the cable, we also shared a tiny part of our essence.” Vincha flushed, but Rafik continued. “When I was joined with Adam, all my memories were refreshed and examined in detail. We found there was a very good chance that your offspring would be a Puzzler, and your reaction now proves we were correct in our assumption. This was another reason why I tried to reach out to you.”
Vincha kept very still, but her hands clenched into fists when she said, “If you think I will allow you to kill my daughter so you can extract some code from her, think again. Whoever you are, you are not as smart as you think.”
“She will not die—”
“Rust that—”
And suddenly Rafik was not a boy, but a man in his prime.
“She will not die, she will grow, as I did,” he said with quiet assurance.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s your choice to make, Vincha. But as you and I know, life as a Puzzler is harsh at best. You said yourself that all of the marked are drawn to Tarakan. Even if you manage to shelter your daughter for a while, the calling to the Great Puzzle is too strong to resist. Sooner or later, like all Puzzlers, she will find herself in the Valley. You could make sure that your daughter’s journey to where she truly belongs is safe and without the unnecessary suffering and abuse I endured.”
In the years I’d followed Vincha’s shadow, gathering stories and gossip along the way and eventually questioning her, I’d formed the conclusion that she was an erratic, irrational, unscrupulous Skint addict. At that moment, when she faced Rafik, I realized that her behaviour made sense. This was where the coin went, why Vincha lived like a beggar but was in so much debt, why she kept going back to certain places, her reluctance to cooperate with me or my LoreMaster. She was protecting her daughter, a Puzzler, from the same fate as Rafik.
“What if we say no?” Jakov suddenly asked. “What if we just want to walk away?”
“No one asked me whether I wanted to go be sold on auction, open nodes, or fight Lizards. I am afraid the wheel has turned. You will not say no.” Rafik’s answer was pleasant in tone, but we all recognised a threat when we heard one.
Jakov didn’t even hesitate. A power pistol appeared in his hand, and he turned and aimed it straight at Vincha. Two more Trolls followed Jakov’s example, one of them training her weapon at the CommWoman and another stopping Bayne from intervening. “The way I see it,” the merchant intoned carefully, “without Vincha you will lose your edge against this Cain, and your precious future Puzzler, too. So how about we all walk out of here, or—”
Rafik didn’t move, but in the blink of an eye, lightning bolts struck from above and the three of them lay shaking on the ground. Another one of Jakov’s guards raised his weapon just to have a second burst of lightning strike him down.
The rest of us froze in our places as Rafik walked calmly over to Jakov’s still-twitching, unconscious body. “You will not say no,” he said again, quietly.
68
I was never a warrior or a Salvationist. My near-death experiences usually happened suddenly. I had never found myself in a position in which I had days to dwell upon my possible demise. Even with all the fantastical things that were happening to us, I could not forget that we were about to go on a mission from which we would most likely not return. Despite the new gear, the improved augmentations, and the constant reassurances we received from Rafik, I did not believe we were going for an easy stroll in Cain’s territory. On the contrary, the more encouragement we got from Rafik, the worse I felt about it all.
As clichéd as it sounds, I found myself thinking about my life and revisiting events in my mind. My definite conclusion was that I should have fucked more women. I made a promise to myself to do just that as soon as I possibly could, and perhaps eventually find a woman who would sleep with me because she actually liked me and not because I was paying her for the pleasure. Maybe, in time, we’d have a few kids together, and with my new, improved sight, I could even tell her if we were going to have a boy or a girl simply by looking at her belly.
I looked out the window and tried to count the number of nights we spent training, but they all seemed a blur now. Maybe a fortnight, maybe a full month, I couldn’t tell. The sun was just setting, and with my room perched above the sea, the view was magnificent. It was a lie, of course. There was no way I could be looking at the sea from inside the City within the Mountain, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
I did not visit any of the other sleeping quarters, but this one seemed to cater to my whims—plenty of books and a fireplace, just like I remembered from my childhood home, not that I had much time to spend reading by the fire. The surgeries, training, and what Rafik referred to as “simulations” took up most of our days, and exhaustion and brooding ruled my nights. I know that others reacted differently. Vincha and Bayne decided to share accommodations, and River also found a kindred spirit among the crew. For now, I preferred to spend time by myself.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said as I turned around. I was expecting it would be Galinak, who I suspected had grown fond of me, the way you learn to love an awkward pet.
The oak door opened and Rafik walked in, or at least his image did. I still could not make up my mind if it was actually him or not. Surprised as I was, I still noted to myself that he could have appeared in front of me out of thin air. Perhaps he wanted to give me a false sense of privacy.
“Hello, Rafik,” I said.
He bowed slightly, surveyed my chambers, and indicated with a hand gesture his wish to sit down.
“Please do.” I waited for him to choose where to sit, then sat myself in front of him, helping myself to some exotic fruit from the bowl that lay between us.
He wanted something from me, that was obvious, and I decided there and then that I was not going to give it to him without getting a few answers.
“I would invite you to join me. But I am not sure if you can eat,” I said and filled my mouth with the fruit’s sweetness.
“Of course I can eat,” Rafik said, smiling, “just not in the same physical reality you occupy.”
I used my sight to look at him. To anyone else he might have seemed as solid as I was, but I knew he w
as not flesh and blood. His image was made of light rays of all colours with strange tiny symbols running along his entire body.
I shifted back to normal sight, “Is it really you, Rafik?”
He tilted his head. “You look and talk to me as if you know me, but we have never met.”
“I’ve heard a great deal about you from Vincha and others. I feel I got to know Rafik. You, I am not sure about.”
“If I said I am really Rafik, would you believe me?”
I considered his words but Rafik did not wait for my reply. “Part of me merged with Adam, while the other part remained independent. I am able to connect with Adam, speak with him, share some of the information stored within, but I am not him.”
“And you spent all these years inside a machine?” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Inside Adam I am able to experience all that you feel in the real world but so much more. I can fly, lift mountains, search for knowledge, or become a sea creature and live underwater, and, yes,” Rafik smiled at me, “even know the passions of the flesh.”
“Can I ask you for a favour?” I waited for Rafik to nod. “Can you change into a grown man? I feel uncomfortable hearing about passions of the flesh from a boy.”
Also, I am more open to manipulation when I face a kid rather than who you really are.
Rafik nodded, and suddenly there was a young man sitting in front of me.
“Better?” His voice changed as well, but the same short brown hair, olive skin and large, green eyes dispelled any doubt that this was still Rafik. My guess was that plenty of women would have turned their heads after him.
“Much better, thank you.” I helped myself to some exquisite wine from an equally beautiful glass.
“Your shooting has improved,” Rafik remarked as I tasted the wine.
It was true, but I knew that Rafik did not come just to compliment me on my training. “The new aiming mechanism in my retina helps.” I faked modesty, trying not to drink the delicious wine too quickly. Actually, I was way too happy to pull the trigger of my power handguns, now that I knew I could shoot with needle-point precision.