Terminal (Visceral Book 4)

by Adam Thielen

  Taq was quiet for a few minutes, then turned to Tsenka. “Where are we lodging?”

  “Well, we could stay at the embassy for free, but…”

  “Right, can’t wave our flag around.”

  “So I got us a room at one of the smaller hotels,” she continued. “Nice and cheap, with a landing pad a short walk away.”

  Room, singular, thought Taq. His eyes involuntarily looked over her features. Her body was perfect if a little muscular, and she hadn’t aged since her turning. She was beautiful, and he had hoped for separate lodging. He was a married man, but still a man, and while his behavior was that of a gentleman, her beauty conjured lurid thoughts, and he didn’t want them.

  “Can we fly where we need to go?” he asked.

  “With some care,” she answered. “Seeing my copter around will create intrigue we don’t want, and I don’t completely trust the greater region’s air traffic clearance system.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful place,” remarked Jones.

  Cho sighed. “Try to cut them some slack. They’ve had a troubled history and still face hostilities from surrounding countries. They are a little behind in technology, and they are paranoid. But from what I’ve read, the people are generally friendly. Most of them speak English, too.” Her eyes lit up. “There’s our pad, over there. Cannot wait to get out of this seat and stretch my legs.”

  Taq lifted his duffel, throwing the strap over his shoulder and following Tsenka through the elevator down from the landing pad, then through a short hallway that led outside. From there, the two walked a half block to the Hotel Sagar. Still dark out, their path was sparsely lit with streetlamps. Taq swiveled his head left and right, curious about his surroundings.

  Tsenka stopped in the lobby to have her eyes scanned by the attendant. They headed through a white hallway with paint flecks decorating the stained carpeting. Sections of LED strips along the ceiling had gone dead, and others hummed at fifty hertz with a perceptible flicker. The mage kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t there for a vacation.

  Tsenka herself was surprised at the condition of the building. Could it be that their network site had put up deceptive pictures? She also decided not to comment, hoping it didn’t look as bad to her travel companion.

  The door to their room was outfitted with a retinal scanner, and slid open with only a slight stutter, revealing a modest but clean-looking interior containing a fridge, a table with two chairs, a smart wall, and two small beds.

  Tsenka entered the room and placed her bags on a counter next to the wall. “The room doesn’t seem too bad. Not sure what that smell is, but running the air will hopefully clear it out.”

  Taq slowly entered the room and lowered his bag next to one of the chairs. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asked.

  Cho pulled up a map onto her heads-up display, querying for nearby restaurants. “Well,” she said. “What do you feel like?”

  “Oh god, this is going to be one of those conversations.” He went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing water onto his face.

  “What kind?”

  Taq ran his fingers through his hair, then combed it back. “The kind where we deliberate for an hour over where to go.”

  “So defeatist,” snarked Cho.

  “Defeat, my dear super agent, is the first step in… shit, I was going somewhere with this.”

  “There’s an early-morning Punjabi place not too far from here,” said Cho. “Let’s go check it out.”

  Taq scratched at his beard. “What pizza places are there?”

  Swiping through categories, Cho said, “Let’s see—”

  “I’m kidding, let’s go.”

  For the second time, they dined together. To Taq’s mild irritation, Tsenka researched each entree before deciding. The elder mage decided to go with the most boring-looking chicken dish he could find. Both sat quietly as they waited, absorbed in their own thoughts. Both had questions for the other other that each weren’t ready to ask yet.

  The restaurant was brightly lit, with giant red and orange brushstrokes painted over textured walls. They sat around a small circle of wood. Tsenka sipped on Jal Jeera, and Taq on his tea. The food came, and Jones proceeded to pick through it, eating the bits he deemed, after much scrutiny, to be acceptable. Tsenka simply dug into her chole bhature, shoveling chickpeas and gravy into her mouth, followed by fried bread.

  “How is the university life?” she asked after finishing, pausing to wipe at her mouth with a thin cloth napkin. She wadded it into a ball and set it on the table.

  “The cage gets prettier every year,” Taq responded. “And each year, it gets harder for me to understand why they don’t just revolt.”

  “The mages?”

  Taq nodded. “It was never something we seriously considered while I was a student there. I guess it’s easier to convince youth of the—what is the word—propriety of the authority they are presented with.”

  “But it’s not that bad is it?” Cho asked.

  “No, it’s not that bad,” admitted Jones. “Maybe it’s just me. Somehow I feel more imprisoned as a dean than I did as a kid.”

  “Well, you’re here now, and you can do whatever you want.”

  “The president tried to stop me,” said Taq. “What I really wanted was to sulk in peace, but I suppose this is better.”

  Cho leaned her elbows on the table. “Well, you could come back to the agency. Just work a desk in a small office where you can sulk. I bet they’d even invent a job title just to have you there. Lead sulker.”

  The dean considered the idea and shook his head. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself,” he admitted. “I feel important at the university. I can pretend the kids need me.”

  “They do,” Cho said with a nod.

  “Heck, what about the agency?” asked Taq. “What’s that like these days?”

  Cho sighed. “I’m not sure you want to get me started on that.” She swiped at the small screen in the middle of the table. “Does this place serve alcohol?”

  “Ey, aren’t hookah places popular here?” said Taq. “Sorry, tangential.”

  “Not sure if they still are.”

  “You probably know this, but Kate’s parents were from India,” said Taq.

  “She mentioned it.”

  “They left after the Collapse. Escaped Delhi during the fighting. Place doesn’t really exist anymore, but she still wanted to travel here. It was always one of those someday-we’ll-do-it things.”

  “Damn,” remarked Cho. “I guess life had other ideas.”

  “Yeah… but back to your work. Go on, tell me all about it. I’ll stop you if I get bored.”

  Tsenka put her hands in her lap. “I don’t say this just to kiss ass, but things started going downhill after Kate left. She was a Haven-believer, and thought they had infiltrated our government. The only problem with that theory is that they are all vampires. So, I don’t know if they could really convince a human to be a mole for years… but it certainly feels compromised today.”

  “You said that the other day,” stated Taq. “Think there’s a chance to clean the place up?”

  “Maybe,” she continued. “I should have focused on it sooner. Maybe Desre can help when we find her. I wish that was the only problem.”

  “There’s more?”

  “It’s the fucking politics,” hissed Cho. “Directing us to what the Republic board thinks is priority, cautioning us away from other areas. That’s to say nothing of the internal squabbling over pay and authority and methodology. Every week there’s some new drama. It’s almost enough to make me walk away.”

  “Surely no bitches step to the great Tsenka Cho,” said Taq with a grin.

  “Not to my face, no,” she replied. “But no one cares about Beijing anymore, or at least that’s how they act, and I’m honestly glad for that.”

  “I’m sure a lot of people still remember what you did. What you and Kate did, I mean.”

  “And Drew and Desre,” she added.
“I just hate that feeling. As if I had this big moment the rest of my life can’t live up to.”

  “That’s dumb,” Jones declared, folding his arms.

  “Hey, fuck you, buddy,” reacted Cho.

  Taq smirked. “I’m just saying that the other things you’ve done might not be so big, but I bet they add up. Plus, you’ll have other moments.”

  “I don’t want other moments,” she decided. “I’m not sure what I want.”

  “Maybe you just want to complain,” Taq said, holding a straight face.

  “Jesus! You’re kind of a rude old bastard, you know?”

  “That’s a low blow.”

  “Fine,” she said, paying the check using the table’s interface. “I’m done.”

  “Everyone likes to complain,” offered Taq. “And I know what you are going through.”

  “Ya, I suppose you do,” she said, standing from her seat. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Taq rose. “What now?”

  “Now,” she started, grinning slyly, “we go back to our room and I put you to good use.”

  A sliver of the rising sun peeked through the drapes inside Tsenka’s hotel room. Taq lay flat on one of the still neatly made beds. The temperature was a chilly sixty-four degrees thanks to the air conditioner mounted to the window, running while they had eaten. The room’s smell had not entirely dissipated.

  “I’m not sure you’ve been listening to me,” said Taq, staring up at the ceiling.

  “You can do this,” encouraged Cho. “You’re the legendary mage, Taq Jones.”

  “Well, now I’m going to feel even worse,” he said.

  “No pressure,” said Tsenka.

  Jones closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The LEDs in the ceiling flickered and the room darkened slightly. The air became even colder, and Taq’s aura left the confines of his body. His mind followed it into the Ethereal plane. It was a land of darkness, where physical objects in the facade cast shadows and each person was represented by a glowing aura.

  It was a quiet place. There was no sound, and objects in motion appeared to fade from one spot and reappear in another. The mirror on the hotel room wall was black, without reflection. The windows were similarly opaque, and sources of light from the physical world did not illuminate the Ether.

  Taq’s aura stood, the ground under his feet feeling as solid as it would in the facade as long as he willed it so. Shining through the physical walls were the auras, both near and far, of people, vampires, and mages in the area. He strained to see more than a short distance from the hotel. Auras much further out became pale, hueless blobs to his eyes.

  After a minute of scanning the horizon, his physical body breathed heavily, and he felt himself start to fade into the Ether. It was a feeling, he imagined, akin to sinking in quicksand. He spotted an aura the color of a vampire just outside the building, but as he willed his aura closer, it changed color to that of one of the magic-wielding variants. The saturation of the color was so light, he had trouble telling if the person was actually awakened or if Taq was hallucinating in his old age.

  How strange, thought Taq. This clearly isn’t Desre, but who is it? The aura shifted again to another hue, then turned mundane.

  Jones felt too tired to move any further and realized he wasted precious time studying this curious phenomenon. He relented and allowed his aura to return to his body. Opening his eyes, Taq again stared at the ceiling. He breathed through his mouth, exhausted, and a tear fell from the corner of his eye.

  “Dammit,” he whispered.

  “It’s okay, Taq,” consoled Tsenka.

  “I’m hardly a mage anymore,” he said quietly. “I’m hardly anything anymore.”

  Cho sat on the bed next to Taq. She grabbed his hand and held it, slipping her fingers in between his. They sat quietly until the mage had calmed his breathing.

  “How would you like to be powerful again, just for a while?” Tsenka asked.

  Realizing after a moment that she wasn’t posing a hypothetical question, he pulled his hand away. “I swore that off. You know.”

  “Yes, I do know, I remember,” she replied, her hand retreating to her lap. “But that was a long time ago. What about just a small amount?”

  Taq rolled to his side, facing away from the vampire. “I’m sorry, Tsenka. I tried to warn you.”

  Agent Cho stood. “I didn’t have anyone else to turn to. I never asked you to be the great mage you mourn, I only asked you to try. You came all this way… for what?”

  Jones didn’t respond, and Tsenka knew he would need rest. She shook her head. “I have a contact in this section of the city. I want to see what they know. I shouldn’t be gone long.”

  “Right,” said Taq, otherwise motionless.

  Cho stared at him for a moment, attached her gun holster to her belt, and stepped out of the room. She left her sword and combat suit but took a small concealable dagger. Her t-shirt fell over the butt of her pistol. The vampire did not want to draw any unnecessary attention.

  As the door slid shut, she clenched her fists tightly, feeling her nails dig into her palms. Shouldn’t have brought him, she thought. Dammit, Tsenka, he was a friend. Now he despises you for exposing his weakness. Idiot. Kate would be ashamed.

  The NRI agent ceased beating herself up. I’ll make it up to him, make him feel useful without projection… somehow. She walked down the hall and took the first door to the outside. The sun was well on its way up into the sky. Cho’s skin darkened, and she instinctively pulled out her face mask. Her mouth and inner nasal passages were still somewhat vulnerable to sunlight, and even through her skin, she felt the weight of the heat pulling her down, sapping her strength.

  Cho brought the map up in front of her eyes and plotted a course to the small apartment complex where her contact last resided. She could have tried to call, but she risked having her coms intercepted. So she plodded forward. It was only a few klicks away, and she wanted to stretch her legs.

  She turned right down a thin alleyway, sandwiched between the wall of the hotel and the wall of a parking garage. A slim figure leaning against the hotel exterior pushed itself upright and stood in the middle of the alley, blocking Tsenka’s path.

  As Cho approached, the figure became a young petite, fair-skinned woman with raven hair teasing at her shoulders. The woman’s eyes were covered with a pair of dark goggles, and protruding from behind her back appeared to be two upside-down blades but with no handles on the other ends. She wore black boots, tight black shorts that rested above her knees, and a black crop top shirt with a low neckline, featuring a picture of a giant pink heart with a wooden stake stabbed into it.

  The woman shifted her weight, moving her hands to her waist. Muscles on her diminutive frame bulged ever so slightly, then receded. Cho stopped a meter out, studying her. The girl threw her head back.

  “Sup, betch.” Her voice was high-pitched and smooth.

  Cho looked her over while her cybernetic eye scanned the periphery for any other movement. “Want something?”

  “Oh, ya think, betch?” Her accent was a mixture of western ghetto and eastern European.

  Tsenka frowned. “You keep calling me names, I’m going to take offense.”

  “You’re gonna take more than that, seck head.”

  “Is that so?” asked Tsenka, placing her hand near the hem of her shirt where her gun hid.

  “She said I should help you,” said the girl. “But she didn’t tell me you was a vamp. I slays vamps.”

  “Who? Desre?”

  “I wanna open up that pretty skin of yours, see what’s rottin’ under.”

  “You are clearly disturbed,” assessed Cho, forgetting her previous query.

  “Betch, I’m the vampire slayer Daria Cretu!” she yelled in response. “Get on your knees like you’re used to and I’ll make it quick.”

  “Uh, a vampire slayer?” asked Cho. “As in, you go around murdering nocturnals?”

  “I put hellspawn in the ground, betch,�
�� said Daria, her voice still energized.

  “You know what? I’m going to give you a chance to run now before I put you in the ground.”

  “Bring the noise, muthafucka!” Cretu shouted, hiding her hands behind her back.

  Tsenka moved her hand from her gun and shuffled toward Cretu with her right hand cocked back. The girl took two quick steps back, pushing off with the second and moving out of range. From behind her back her hands returned, each holding a clump of shiny jack-shaped bits of metal. She flung them to each side where metal tips sank into the surrounding walls with a smattering of clinks.

  Before Cho could move out of the way, the jacks exploded, sending thin metal shards crisscrossing through the air. Tsenka shielded her face and ducked down. A dozen of the needles stabbed into her skin, equally covering most of her body. The pain forced a groan from her lips that grew in volume as she stood back up.

  Cretu was already in the air, hurtling at Cho with her foot out. She jump-kicked the vampire in the chest, knocking her to the ground. Shards of metal stuck in Tsenka’s skin drove further inside upon hitting the asphalt. Cretu followed the kick by jumping onto the nocturnal with a dagger in her hand.

  The blade traveled toward Cho’s chest, but she caught the slayer’s arms, stopping its descent. Tsenka grabbed Daria’s wrist with both of her hands and swung her left leg over the girl’s shoulder, wrapping it halfway around her neck. Cho moved her right leg up and over her left ankle, cradling it with the inside of her knee. Once completed, the maneuver trapped Cretu’s neck in a triangle choke.

  As Tsenka flexed her legs, she began to strangle Daria, putting enough pressure on the neck to make the girl think it might break. But instead of panicking, the slayer straightened her legs, curling Cho’s body and taking some of the pressure off. The vampire was surprised at the girl’s strength and squeezed harder.

  Feeling her consciousness fade, Daria reached behind her with her free hand and drew a Steyr submachine gun. Barely larger than some pistols, it had the foregrip removed alongside the typical smart modifications.