She smiled at that. Nick could tell she was thrown by how fast things were moving. Their little interlude in the gloom was interrupted as Rolfic’s guards re-lit the braziers.
“Approach the throne,” the King intoned with obvious displeasure. The bags under his eyes looked like slow-moving cement. A man tussling with death.
“If you’ve finished spreading blood across my hall, I will commit you to the Deep. May you find peace there. Kill them.”
The last, barked command was directed to the royal guards, who seemed uncertain how to proceed. A tense silence settled over the hall as grizzled warriors wrestled with whatever notions of honor and duty they held close to their hearts.
“Sire,” ventured a brown-bearded soldier to the King’s right. “These humans have proved themselves in battle. They have given us the gift of blood. Worth far more than Grymdor.”
Furious, King Rolfic stood and drew his sword, an ancient bastard sword covered in runes.
“Must I do this myself?” he roared, leaping down from the dais. “Is this how far we’ve fallen?”
Nick’s heart sank - he’d been convinced the recent battle had been enough to win Rolfic’s confidence. But now he and Lee had to risk their lives again. Near-dead. Against a King.
But Rolfic wasn’t what he once was. He looked unsteady on his feet and could barely hold his noble bastard sword aloft. Nick instinctively flanked the dwarf to split his concentration. In the end, the old King didn’t stand a chance. Lee easily dodged a clumsy, telegraphed strike and Nick did the rest, sliding in for an easy cross-cleave kill.
Rolfic, son of Ulferd the Wise, slumped to the cold floor and breathed his last. Shock wasn’t the right word for the silence that filled the hall - if Nick wasn’t mistaken, it was more like relief.
“I have witnessed the King’s death,” called the dwarf who had spoken for the runners earlier. “He died in fair battle, like a true dwarf should. I have no grievance with what I have seen this day.”
“Aye,” said the other guards.
Brown Beard approached the runners, his scarred face set with grim determination.
“I am Baric, the King’s Chief Steward,” he said gruffly. “My people have much to do here. Domestic matters.”
“I understand,” Nick said. “All we ever wanted was fair audience.”
“You shall have it,” Baric said. “Speak plainly. What does King Alain require?”
“As many men as you can spare,” Lee said. “The situation in Durandor is desperate.”
Baric stroked his beard. Nick sensed the man was highly intelligent and, unlike Rolfic, reasonable.
“I cannot give you soldiers,” the dwarf said at length. “I will provide you with the reason as a gesture of good will.”
Baric’s face darkened considerably.
“The city of Ulferd is under attack,” the steward said at length. “Two years ago the first Gate appeared. It was worse than our blackest fears. Hager has returned.”
Nick felt a peculiar coldness in his bones. He knew about Hager. The first dozen seasons of Oakshield Junction had focused on the eradication of Hager from the lands of men, elves and dwarves. The enemy wasn’t alive, but he wasn’t undead either. He was a product of the Underworld, a hellscape that existed in parallel with Tyrennia.
Never seen without his dreaded Black Flail, Hager was an agent of the Devil Himself and was obsessed with the conquest of Tyrennia. Nick looked at Lee, who had gone pale. She knew the lore just as well as Nick did.
“How many Gates have opened?” he asked Baric.
“Five in total,” came the faint reply. “All of them under the city, deep within the bowels of the earth.”
Baric made a hand signal to another soldier, who dragged a bulging sack across the floor. “Like I said, I cannot give you soldiers, but I can give you these.”
Nick lifted a spherical orb from the sack. It reminded him of a lantern.
“A diadem prism,” Lee said, showing impressive knowledge of the finer points of Oakshield lore. “Used centuries ago in human abbeys and churches. The repel hellspawn.”
“You need those far more than you need men,” Baric said gravely.
“We thank you, Baric,” Nick said with a bow, “but a kobold host remains camped outside Castle Durandor.”
“To vanquish an enemy, one must understand his motivation,” Baric said. “The question you must ask is this - are the kobolds looking to conquer, or are they looking to flee?”
Nick looked at Lee, wide-eyed. A key to the coming conflict had been revealed. This was not about men and kobolds - this was about Tyrennia and the Underworld.
Nick’s XP was clicking wildly as the Great Hall of Ulferd faded to black.
+3
Mike Szorka spoke urgently into his wristpad while Nick climbed down from the Immersion Tank.
“Stay on her,” he was saying. “I bring boy.”
“Is she OK?” Nick asked as he threw on some clothes.
Mike killed the com link and turned a hard eye on the pixel runner. Nick had seen that look before - his bodyguard was preparing for battle and the best thing he could do was get out of the Slovakian’s way.
“Let’s go,” Mike said curtly, already heading to the landing pad on the roof.
The Slovakians had chartered an armored flyer, unsure what level of resistance they were about to meet. On his way up the stairwell, Nick tried to contact Lee. Nothing. He needed to get to Neutron Studio and rescue her before anything untoward happened.
Once he’d done that, he needed to find Inez, the NPC he’d released from Oakshield Junction earlier in the day. Apparently she’d succeeded in escaping her game facility and was now on the run.
Nick’s troubled thoughts were scattered by the huge, humming blades of a Bird of Prey as it set down on the roof of Clementine Towers. He was thankful to be making so much money - otherwise there was no way he could afford to use such a beast.
Mike and three ex-military friends clambered aboard, their hands lovingly caressing the smooth interior. At times like this they frightened Nick, but he couldn’t deny their usefulness. The flyer lifted into the gathering dusk and dived into the gloom, heading south along the neon-lit coast.
Finding a spot to land on Ocean Boulevard was easier said than done, particularly with the gangs that became active once night fell. It would’ve been easy to land on the studio’s roof, but the Syndicate was hardly about to grant landing rights to a bunch of violent, unregistered Slovakians. In the end the pilot chose the most direct approach, crushing a pair of civilian flyers on landing.
Nick hardly dared breathe as he followed his gun-toting friends through the street level atmos-shell.
“She’s out,” the receptionist said, allowing the burly bodyguards to pass. “Studio 61. I’ll light the way.”
Nick hadn’t known that she was Mike’s inside contact - very useful indeed. Following the pencil-thin light beam on the floor, the rescue party moved warily through the darkened corridors. The passing technicians and producers gave them second glances but Mike had at least lowered his gun in an effort to appear less threatening.
Studio 61 was empty. Trying not to panic, Nick headed up a flight of stairs to an executive lounge. There she was, chatting happily with a bunch of Neutron suits. Nick didn’t know which scenario was worse - Lee gone missing or talking to Syndicate reps as if she’d always known them.
“Everything OK, Lee?” he asked hesitantly.
For some reason he feared a cold brush-off, but he needn’t have worried.
“Stanners,” she said, which was hardly effusive in itself, but the light in her eyes told the full story. “I was hoping you’d come get me.”
Nick would’ve somersaulted with joy if he could.
“What was that about?” Mike asked as they headed back through the corridors.
“Good to see you too Mike,” Lee replied light-heartedly. “They were just walking me through some marketing opportunities.”
“Wha
t did you tell them?” Nick asked, his blood running cold.
Lee grinned and squeezed his hand. “I told them to get fucked.”
Immensely relieved, Nick laid an arm around her shoulder.
“Whoa, easy, tiger,” she said with a smile.
Nick didn’t care. He was just happy to rescue Leadora Hill from Neutron’s clutches.
“Mike, can you order me another tank?” he asked his bodyguard.
“Already done, boy,” he said, as if it was an obvious consideration he should’ve thought of earlier.
Nick looked at Lee, who nodded. He took that to mean she was happy to launch from the safety of Clementine Towers.
“I don’t expect you to stay,” he said awkwardly.
Lee seemed to enjoy his discomfort, which was hardly a surprise.
“It’s all good,” she said. “Clem Towers is a little too white bread for me. But launching from there seems like a good idea.”
Nick was about to reply when his wrist pad chimed. All he got was a strange crackle.
<… Nick … arket.>
“Inez,” Mike said, listening in. “She’s in the Night Market. Let’s go.”
The bodyguard handed Lee a compact revolver. She accepted it without comment, clearly used to carrying arms.
“Where you from, again?” Nick asked.
“Let’s just say it was low in the scheme of things,” she said cryptically. “I know my way around a gun.”
The Night Market was over twenty minutes by air to the southeast. Nick kept trying to rekindle his connection to Inez but got nothing.
“Interference,” Lee said, reading his frown. “We’ll find her, Nick.”
Nick appreciated the optimism, but wasn’t so sure. The Night Market was a sprawling labyrinth of alleys and underground plazas. Plenty of opportunity for a young woman to lose a tail, but that would make her hard to find.
Tense silence reigned as the flyer pierced the night sky. A dust storm on the western horizon flickered with dry lightning. Thankfully, the worst of the storms were usually far out to sea.
“Do it,” Nick said, resigned to the huge expense. If Inez was the prize, every cent was worth it.
The rescue party hit the ground running. Nick felt like he was part of some kind of urban commando unit as he scurried alongside Lee and the Slovakians. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that Mike had given Lee his extra weapon. He must’ve come across as some kind of pacifist. Which was ironic considering his gaming prowess. Still, he couldn’t have been in better hands. Lee looked every inch as hard as his European friends.
Checking his wrist pad for orientation, Mike led them deep into the milling crowd of Adjunct B. The linear thoroughfare was famous for its more exotic trade. It was said you could score anything from black market mannequins to real strawberry jelly.
Nick let the alluring sights and smells wash over him, eyes scanning the crowd for Inez’s heart-shaped face. But would she be in plain sight? It didn’t seem likely. Nick sent her yet another message, simply saying that he was “close”. Neutron was probably monitoring her coms.
He received a reply almost immediately:
INQB8TOR. COME NOW.
Nick showed the message to Mike, who nodded and veered right, strong-arming his way through the traders. They descended two flights of stairs and found themselves in a dark alley underneath Adjunct B. This was the type of place you could get knifed in the gut just for kicks.
A hot pink neon sign reading “Inqb8tor” flickered down the way. As far as Nick was aware, it was a high concept brothel. Clients rented tanks where they were held in “warm” stasis, a semi-conscious state. Apparently sex under such conditions was both prolonged and amazing. In any case, Nick had never had the money or the inclination to sample the kink.
Mike entered first, gun raised. The front desk, backed by a luminous wall-length aquarium, was ominously unattended. The party pushed on down a hallway. An assortment of smells, ranging from shorted circuitry to stale sweat, drifted from the adjoining rooms. Nick got a glimpse of bodies slowly gyrating in a cool blue tank.
In the back room, a posse of suited men surrounded a seated figure. A dead man lay slumped against the wall, his throat ripped open. Nick wasn’t particularly shocked - he’d seen plenty of dead bodies in his old hab block. Except they were usually drug overdoses.
Inez was the one in the chair, looking for all the world like prey. The men standing over her wore grim, hungry expressions.
“What’s going on here?” Nick asked before Mike could open his mouth. His bodyguard was as tough as nails but communication was not his strong suit.
A tall man with slicked-back hair and piercing brown eyes looked at Nick irritably.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m here for the girl,” Nick said firmly.
The man’s eyes glittered. “You her wife?”
The question was a pointed one. These men knew full well how old she was. How young she was.
“Let’s just say I’m her guardian.”
“That’s nice,” said the thug, scratching his nose complacently. “Problem is, she came here to shake a tail. We’re not a fucking halfway house.”
“What’s the debt?” Lee asked, getting straight to the heart of the matter.
“We spent twenty minutes talking about our services,” came the reply. “We’re a high-end operation. Time is money. Six hundred should just about cover it.”
Nick felt rage in his guts. Of course, it was daylight robbery. Mike seemed to be looking a signal. Not sure what he was after, Nick simply nodded.
Mike extended a hand to Brown Eyes.
“Sorry for misunderstanding,” the Slovakian muttered. His manner was so apologetic that Brown Eyes accepted the hand with a smirk. Big mistake. Mike head-butted him mercilessly, sending his nose back into his skull. With a strangled whimper Brown Eyes dropped to the floor, where he squirmed in pain. The other thugs, eminently comfortable shaking down a vulnerable girl, weren’t so enamored with the new situation.
“Take her,” one of them said. “Bitch has no credit anyway.”
“How chivalrous,” Lee said with murderous eyes. For a moment Nick thought she was going to blow a hole in his head. She had an edge about her, an other-worldly tension that Nick found impossible to read. It both excited and terrified him.
Nick took Inez’s hand and lead her out into the alleyway. The scattered pop-pop-pop of gunfire had everyone scurrying for cover.
“Syndicate troopers,” she said, crouching alongside Nick. “They tracked me all the way here.”
Two things occurred to Nick as he dragged Inez behind the cover of a dumpster. One - she hadn’t inherited her father’s looks, which was a good thing. Blond and slight, her NPC had been amazingly accurate. Two - since when did the Syndicate maintain a private army?
Plasma fire rained down on the alley from the concourse above. There must’ve been at least a dozen troopers up there. Nick looked across at Mike, who was firing steadily from the doorway to Inqb8tor. A trooper’s body splattered to the concrete, his rifle clattering to Nick’s feet. He hefted the weapon and squeezed off a few shots, surprised at the violent recoil.
Remembering there were hundreds of civilians up there, he lowered his weapon and grabbed Inez by the arm. Using the concourse as cover, the pair left the fire fight behind and made their way through a graffiti-covered doorway. The bass throb of cyber-trance rocked the basement level of this building.
Nick drew Inez through a sweaty throng of dancers who hadn’t even heard the gunfire above the percussive music. Such violence was not exactly uncommon in these parts anyway. As Nick hoped, there was an exit off the mezzanine level at the opposite end of the warehouse. The pair climbed a dirty stairwell that smelled like urine and worse, emerging in the thick of Adjunct B once again.
The bustling throng provided welcome cover as Nic
k and Inez headed back to the flyer. He was relieved to see Mike, Lee and the others sprinting up a connecting ramp to join them. The burly Slovakian piled everyone into the cabin and slammed the door shut behind him. A spray of bullets thudded against the fuselage as the vessel rose into the air.
“Faster!” Mike roared into his com. The flyer surged into the night, ignoring a red signal crossing. The bullets receded - they’d cleared the danger zone.
Nick smiled at Inez, who seemed more exhausted than anything else.
“The dead man back there,” she said quietly. “He was the sec guard who helped me escape the facility.”
Nick felt an immediate sense of gratitude to the fallen man. He’d lost his life so Gideon’s daughter could get away. The best way to honor his sacrifice was to ensure that Inez was protected and safe.
“You should stay with me,” Nick suggested gently.
“How many servers do you have?” came the unexpected reply. Inez’s vulnerability had suddenly been replaced by businesslike determination.
“Er, none …”
“Then fuck that,” she said, pursing her lips. “I need primary routers and doppelgangers if I’m gonna do my job properly.”
Nick felt like an imbecile.
“What job is that?”
“Stabbing the Syndicate in the heart and twisting the fucking blade,” Inez said with a feral snarl.
“She’s talking about hacking, Stanners,” Lee said. “Does the name ‘Singularity’ mean anything to do, Inez?”
The teenager looked away.
“You’re well known in certain circles,” Lee said. “My hacker buddy is in awe of you.”
“Apple not fall far from tree,” Mike pointed out helpfully.
Nick had naively expected Inez to be a simpering, downcast teen grieving for her lost father. That last bit was probably true, but the girl sitting opposite him looked hungry. It was hardly a surprise considering how long she’d been trapped in Oakshield Junction. Unless Nick was mistaken, she also had the benefit of Gideon’s transferred knowledge. That was an incredible weapon to wield.
“You want to help us?” he asked her.
Dexterity Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Dexterity Build Cycle) Page 10