Terminal (Visceral Book 4)

by Adam Thielen

  Tsenka caught sight of the pistol but knew she wouldn’t be able to stop her from firing it. She reluctantly released her choke, and just as Cretu squeezed the trigger, Cho kicked the slayer back with both feet, sending her reeling.

  Daria allowed herself to fall, curving her body and transitioning to a backward somersault. As she recovered to her feet, she lifted her gun but Cho was already upon her. The vampire slapped the gun away, still moving forward. She swung with her left fist, but Daria leaned back out of the way.

  Cretu swung back. Cho blocked. The slayer was fast, and as they went back and forth, the strange girl kept up for several rounds as blood trickled from the small spikes embedded in Tsenka’s flesh. But then Daria tired, and Cho grazed her with a right hook behind the ear. With her equilibrium disrupted, the slayer stumbled back, then threw a foot behind her to keep from falling.

  Tsenka followed up with another punch, this time squarely on Daria’s jaw. Smelling blood, she rushed at her and kicked Cretu on the outside of the thigh. Cretu fell against the wall to the parking garage, regained her senses, and put her arm up to block a kick aimed at her face.

  Daria punched Cho in the nose, but the vampire was unfazed and continued throwing her own punches, landing several in a row. The pain becoming unbearable, Cretu covered her face with her hands and fell to the ground. Tsenka pulled out her knife, holding it in a reverse grip. She mounted the girl and lifted her arm to strike with the blade.

  “Tsenka! Stop!” Desre’s face appeared over Daria’s. “I need her!” the seer shouted.

  “Goddess,” Daria whispered, then pushed a stunned Tsenka off her lap. She pulled a marble-sized ball from a belt pouch and threw it to the ground. It exploded into a wall of smoke.

  Cho stood and drew her gun. Did she just throw a smoke bomb? Even through thick smoke she should see Cretu running.

  “Desre!” Tsenka shouted. “What the hell is going on? Answer me!”

  But Desre would not answer. Tsenka holstered her gun and sheathed her blade. She began to feel for and yank out the bits of metal stabbed into her body, a few of which were tricky to reach on her back.

  “Fuck, ow… fuck, god dammit…” She continued to curse as she walked to the end of the alley, now unblocked. “Psychotic fucking girl!”

  Her body pulsed with lingering pain as her wounds slowly healed themselves, hampered by the daylight and lack of blood intake. A confusion over the fate of Desre followed her as she walked toward her destination. Am I going mad?

  Between her and her contact was a large food processing plant where genetically engineered crops were grown quickly using redirected sunlight to flood several layers of farmland. Next to it was a water reclamation plant where sewage traveled. The two worked hand in hand, but the surrounding area was subjected to a consistent stench of human waste. Tsenka wondered if the grown-meat plants were nearby.

  The sidewalk under her feet was cracked and broken. Weeds decorated the small dirt strips without concrete covers. The road was narrow and in similar condition. It lacked a superconductor plate and had warning signs to inform drivers that they’d be using battery reserves for the next few kilometers. The nocturnal saw only a few cars pass by. Others rode bikes or simply walked.

  By the time she reached the apartments, nanomachines deployed inside Cho’s bloodstream had repaired her skin and stopped the bleeding. Plasma that had spilled onto its surface was reabsorbed into her body, but recovering the remainder would require consuming a fresh source.

  The frame of the building was constructed out of foamcrete cinder blocks. Cho’s eyes could spot the larger pores of the foam-based variant. The material was strong, lightweight, and brittle. The entire exterior was an unfinished gray rising five stories. The front door was propped open, leading to a dimly lit hallway. Red lights blinked in the darkness as cameras watched Tsenka move from door to door.

  She found the room number she wanted and placed her ear to the wall to listen. She moved away and rapped on the metal door, hoping the man on the other side could give her a lead on her enigmatic friend.

  Episode 4: Bad Habits

  Hours of traveling along the flat plains of rural Kansas is beginning to numb Matt Trent’s mind. Yellow dashes expand then disappear behind the hood of the car. Steadily they move, repeating the same motion endlessly, hypnotizing the man behind the wheel.

  Electricity traveling up Matt’s spine breaks his reverie. Where am I going? he suddenly wonders. A nearby town. What’s it called, though? For a few minutes, the man sits calmly. His foot rests on the floorboards while cruise control keeps him moving forward. His brow begins to bead with sweat as his fear becomes palpable.

  Think about something else, he tells himself. Matt turns his head to look at freshly harvested wheat fields. The sun is heavy in the air. He knows he can’t keep driving without a destination forever, so he pulls his smartphone from his car’s cup holder. He thinks backward, remembering his hometown. He considers a map of the state in his head and his current trajectory.

  Finally, Matt swallows his pride and dials the last person he spoke with. Again, Garrett answers. “What’s going on, Matt? Still on the road?”

  “Yup, still on the road,” he replies, trying to be sly. “Didn’t think it would take this long.”

  “Where you at now, man?” asks Garrett.

  “Uh, let’s see,” says Matt, waiting until he comes to a sign. His breathing is quick and nervous. “Ness City, looks like.”

  Garrett hums. “I think that’s only an hour away.”

  From where? Matt’s mind screams, then races, looking for a way to get the answer out of his longtime work buddy. “Hey, this is going to sound weird, but was I looking for someone?”

  “In Hutchinson?” asks Garrett.

  Matt leans over and pulls the handle on his car’s glove box, looking for a pen. He doesn’t have one, because why would he? He moves the phone from his ear and opens a web browser, types in ‘Hutchinson,’ then opens his navigation app and types it in there as well. He exhales and puts the phone back to his ear.

  “I know how it sounds,” he says after making Garrett wait. “I didn’t mention anything like that when I called, did I?”

  “I don’t think so. Are you alright?”

  “I was,” Matt says to himself, ignoring Garrett’s question.

  “You were?”

  “I have to go, Garrett. Will call you later.” Matt hangs up before his friend can inquire further. He opens up a notepad app on his phone. Am searching for someone, he types with his thumb. When he finishes, memories bubble up to the surface of his mind. A line forms, connecting him to a cache of information that is as enlightening as it is confusing. The line breaks. He types a series of names into his notepad.

  He remembers the name of a restaurant, but stops typing to examine a road sign. It reads; Hutchinson…….128. Matt looks back at his phone but has forgotten what he was writing.

  As he drives, he thinks back to his life as a child. It is easy to do. While he doesn’t remember much, he remembers a few meaningful bits. He moves forward in time, thinking of his life in high school. He can’t catalog his life year by year, but he recalls the important parts. His memory seems fine, and yet he’s missing something.

  * * *

  The heavyset man sitting across the table had gone to great lengths to reinvent himself through biological modification. Each of his ears came to a sharp point at their top, and a large pair of fangs protruded from his mouth and fell over his bottom lip. He had no eyebrows but did have a single small horn growing out of his forehead. His dark beard wrapped around his mouth and moved sharply up to his ears. It was the only hair on his wide head.

  Tsenka looked around his studio apartment. A kitchenette was crammed into one corner, while his bed was recessed into one of the walls vertically, and looked like it would slam into the table if it were lowered. He must have to move furniture around every day, thought Cho. Diffused light crept into the room through a small window with a priv
acy cover and security bars. An LED globe hanging from the ceiling by a thin cable provided most of the room’s illumination.

  “I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or scared,” he said, sliding a steaming mug across the rustic table toward the nocturnal. “NRI agent Tsenka Cho,” he announced to the air in a deep, gruff voice.

  Tsenka shrugged. “We’ve talked before, Bruce.”

  “We’ve spoken once,” he replied.

  “Uh huh, but we’ve communicated plenty.”

  “The safe way,” stated Bruce. “It’s so strange, seeing you in person. Strange, and worrisome.”

  “I had to come,” said Cho. “I’m sorry to put you in this spot, but you’re the best source of intel the agency has in the city.”

  Bruce stifled a laugh. “Sure I am. Just don’t bring any heat down on me.”

  “What kind of heat?”

  “Corporate, federal, gang, you name it.”

  “What do they all have to do with Desre Somer?” asked Tsenka.

  “She is a mage, right?”

  “A psion, yes.”

  “There you go,” he said, holding his arms out and pointing his fingers. “I take it the agency doesn’t have a deep knowledge of Indian politics.”

  “Alright,” said Tsenka, folding her arms and throwing one knee over the other, “lay it out for me.”

  “Well, the government here has separated into political parties,” he began. “People were disgruntled with the poverty and lack of infrastructure, and the Prosperity party emerged to challenge the ruling body, who had to quickly come up with a catchy-sounding name and develop their own platform. They decided on the Liberty party, and their ideology was based on limited government. This was several years ago, and people weren’t interested in liberty; instead, they wanted the promised prosperity.”

  “Doesn’t seem like they got it,” said Cho.

  “Things have improved a little,” responded Bruce. “The thing with not keeping a promise is that you can always make a new one to replace it. But this party wasn’t really interested in that. They used fear tactics regarding nocturnals and magic users, stirring up jealousy and hatred. It kept them in power and created a hostile environment for awakened as well as those heavily augmented. I myself have to watch where I’m going, even in this city. It’s much worse out there,” he said, pointing to the east.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” said Cho. “I have been working under the assumption that Desre is being held somewhere against her will, but somehow found a way to communicate with me.”

  “There are rumors on the BC web that Cepheid abducts and experiments on gifted people.”

  “BC web?” puzzled Tsenka.

  “Blockchain web,” explained Bruce. “A throwback messaging system that uses some heavy encryption and is hidden within the crypto-currency networks. Conspiracy theory twenty-four seven, but also a good place to disseminate information without the risks of back-tracing.”

  “Hmm,” she pondered. “I’ve heard of Cepheid.”

  “They’ve been around for a while,” said Bruce. “A lot of their top executives were founding members of the Prosperity party.”

  “I suppose they felt their corporate power slipping.”

  “And back before the revolution in China, Cepheid was the corporation tasked with overseeing the university here,” he added.

  “The uni wasn’t independent?” asked Cho.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “But come on, it wasn’t really in the New Republic either. So about Cepheid, the pretense for that corp was providing mage security and selling knowledge and tech to other corporations to help them respond to awakened threats, including vampires. And now the party they helped form is in power. If anyone has an interest in a psion, it’s them.”

  “See, Bruce, I knew you’d have answers for me.”

  “Aye, Tsenka, but be careful. They were a powerful corp and now they are the government. And to top it off, they still run the university.”

  “Know where any of their facilities are located?” asked Cho.

  “I know a couple,” he replied. “But just the public faces, like their tower east of here. I sere doubt they’d hide their victims in plain sight.”

  “What about the university?”

  “Now that’s a different story. They could get away with holding anyone there. It’s on the south edge of this little peninsula,” said Bruce. “No one gets in except corpsec. I can’t imagine what it’s like inside. Funding for its use is hidden in various appropriations, and Cepheid doesn’t allow visits or inspections.”

  “This is troubling,” decided Cho. “Desre isn’t a citizen of the UTI. May not have even been in the continent of her own free will. You think they would take her from another country?”

  Bruce shrugged. “I really don’t know. Seems odd. Now, I don’t know much about your friend, but I would carefully consider what she’s told you.”

  Tsenka nodded. “Yeah, I know. So far this just isn’t adding up. What do you think of me contacting this corp directly? Maybe they’ll decide they don’t want international attention over a single mage.”

  “You have the weight of the NRI behind you?” asked Bruce. “If so, then it might be worth a shot. But they may also decide to dispose of any evidence, people included. Not an option I’d utilize without exhausting others, but what would I know? I’m just an informant.”

  “You aren’t just an informant,” consoled Cho. “And you are right. I must be careful about how I approach this. What else you got for me?”

  “Nada,” he replied. “If someone is kidnapping mages, they are keeping a good lid on it.”

  “Is there a vampire council here?”

  “Newp. The government kicked them out shortly after Prosperity took the executive branch. Vampires have to register with a nocturnal affairs department, and most have fled the country rather than take chances.”

  “This place is not really friendly, is it?” posed Tsenka.

  “If you are ‘pure,’ perhaps. Otherwise, not so much,” said Bruce, leaning back into his chair with his hands behind his head.

  Tsenka stood and pulled up her crypto-wallet on her HUD. “Thanks, Bruce. What do I owe you?”

  “Six-fifty,” he declared. “That’s including the last two times I fed you info.”

  “Shit, that’s kind of steep,” she replied. “I’m not sure you gave me anything I wouldn’t have dug up from public records eventually.”

  “I looked though,” he said. “Looking takes time.”

  “Bruce.”

  “A’ight, I will keep digging.”

  “Can we put this on my tab?” proposed Cho.

  The fanged man looked Tsenka over, then pointed his eyes at his folded-up bed. “I haven’t taken alternative forms of payment before, but I could give it a shot.”

  Tsenka puzzled, then looked at the target of his gaze, then back at his crooked grin. She’d had worse, she realized, looking at him. Still, she feigned an expression of surprise.

  “That’s not my job, Bruce,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Didn’t mean to offend,” he said. “Never batted so far out of my league before.”

  “Thanks… I think,” she replied, activating a money transfer and depleting the majority of her cash. “I’ll check in later. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “Watch your back out there, Tsenka Cho,” he called as she slid his door shut.

  Tsenka spent a couple hours walking in concentric circles around the hotel. She wanted a more detailed map of the area, now a bit paranoid about external threats. She wanted air. She wanted time to think. She wanted to avoid Taq for a little while.

  She passed through a worship sector, where shrines and small buildings sat shoulder to shoulder, one for almost every faith’s adherents: Christians, Sikhs, Hindus, Muslims, Juggalos, and others. Next to the religious structures was a long brick factory and a scrapyard where metallic remnants of the old world still haunted the new one.

  During her w
alk, Cho queried public records for all information on Cepheid, the Prosperity party, and the Mumbai mage university. She thought about Kate, and how much easier it would be to organize the terabytes of data with the neuro’s help as the uncompressed files taxed Tsenka’s storage modules.

  Categorizing and filtering the data would be a slow process, and once complete, Cho would have to manually sift through personnel records, tax forms, and real estate documents. She didn’t expect much of interest to be freely available, nor was she prepared to ask the UTI for special access or to hire a hacker to probe corporate servers.

  Tsenka stared at the hotel room door. The sensor light shone green, awaiting her command. She thought about her words with Taq earlier in the day. Her stomach churned, and she realized that sometimes she could be cold. She moved her hand up, then stopped, then finished the wave motion, ordering the door to open.

  Taq sat on the floor between the beds with his legs folded and his hands resting on his knees. Cho entered quietly and sat in front of him. The mage exhaled slowly then opened his eyes. His brow furrowed as he studied her bloodstained shirt.

  “What the blaze happened to you?”

  “Some girl was waiting for me,” said Cho. “Expecting me. I tried to kill her but Desre appeared and stopped me. Said she needed her.”

  “A medium, perhaps,” Jones speculated.

  “A medium who says she’s a vampire slayer,” amended Tsenka.

  Taq grinned. “Really? Hmm... did you make it to your contact?”

  Cho folded her legs to mimic Taq’s pose. “Yes.”

  “Learn anything?”

  Tsenka breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. “This country is rife with intolerance, it would seem. We may be facing a government complicit in oppression, kidnapping, nonconsensual experimentation, and more.”

  “You think the UTI might have Desre?”

  “Or a corp named Cepheid,” said Cho. “The line between them and the ruling party is blurry.”