The Primary Protocol: A Cyberpunk Espionage Tale of Eldritch Horror (The Dossiers of Asset 108 Book 2)

by JM Guillen

  “We don’t all have to go…” Gideon stroked his chin in thought.

  “We don’t have to go right away either.” Rachel reminded him. “If you wait until tomor—” She cut herself off with a snort, apparently remembering the eternal twilight outside. “If you let us sleep before trumpeting our potential ally’s meeting signal, I can make certain we’re all in much better shape. I might even be able to get Bishop back into fighting shape.”

  But you said it would take a few days! I protested to her alone.

  Rachel continued her speech with only a glance at me. “He won’t be fully healed, but he won’t feel it either, which is the main concern with his ribs. With as many viral mecha as I have available, none of you should have physical concerns I can’t at least temporarily patch.”

  “I like the idea of bein’ up to snuff, but if my boy here keeps an aperture open on our doorstep, it shouldn’t come down to a tussle.” Wyatt shrugged. “We’d just leave if they aren’t polite.”

  “We may also use the time available to look over the telemetry specifications Crowe left in a more detailed manner,” Anya interjected. “I may be able to help Wyatt ascertain how to pilot the realmship before we attempt using it to escape this topia.”

  Gideon nodded. “Good. Wyatt, Anya, you two are on it. Do what you can to inspect the skiff and put together a preliminary report in the next two hours. Rachel.” He turned to her. “Augment those two and patch everyone else before tackling a more complete patch for Bishop. Then inventory the injectables and put together a respectable assemblage of mecha augments for our excursion.”

  She nodded back. “Mental enhancements coming up.”

  He turned to face all of us, a serious look to his already lined face. “Cadre, listen up. After getting as much sleep as we can, we’re heading out into enemy territory tomorrow morn.” I saw the brief wry twist of his mouth at that, but he quickly resumed his sober mien. “We’ve already had a taste of what they might throw at us, so we’re going to do our damnedest to avoid further conflict.”

  I found myself nodding quite vigorously.

  “This is a recon mission, assessment only. Bishop, Guthrie, you’ll be with me. We’ll send out the signal and see if this ally is still of the friendly persuasion. If so, we may be closer to home than we thought. Petrova and Gardener will remain here. You both will be constantly monitoring our vitals. Bishop, you will leave an aperture here; it’s a good retreat strategy. I hope not to need it, but better to have it just in case.” He gazed at us a long moment. “You have your orders, get to it.”

  “And as always—” Wyatt linked to me, grinning.

  “–we wish you well in the days ahead.” I finished. It was the typical closing signoff from Designates, when they gave specifics about a dossier.

  We wasted no time but went to our various tasks. Rachel bumbled about the rest of us, injecting here, grafting a scrape there. She handed out restoratives like Christmas candy.

  Soon after she tended to them, Wyatt and Anya disappeared into a connected chamber that held the realmship that would take us home.

  Presumably.

  I wandered over to the supply cabinet and eyed the matter-energy conflux next to it. I could whip up a feast with that thing that could feed us for a month, and there was no doubt we could all use it… but we still didn’t know if that skiff Anya and Wyatt were inspecting would even be capable of taking us home. And if it couldn’t, we might be stuck here a month or three longer than anyone wanted.

  I shoved the possibility of enacting the Primary Protocol from my mind.

  In the end, I munched on a couple of the emergency rations that came standard in every substation. They were head and shoulders above any Meals-Ready-to-Eat of every military I’d ever sampled of course, but they still couldn’t hold a candle to conflux food. Just imagining a flame-seared fillet mignon, baked potato dripping with butter, and grilled asparagus was enough to make my stomach growl.

  But that would have to wait.

  Eat up, Bishop, Rachel admonished as she administered a light skin graft to Gideon’s bicep. You’ll need all the fuel you can get with what I’m going to do to you.

  Oh, yeah? I grinned widely.

  Yeah. She laughed. You won’t be able to keep your eyes open after I’m done.

  I winked at her and snatched up a third emergency bar, a chocolate one as dessert.

  I can’t wait, I told her.

  “Well, I sure do hope this ally is what the Rook thinks,” Wyatt said as he stomped back into the room. “I think we might be able to use that old boat, but it’s definitely out of gas.”

  “Fuel type unknown, not gasoline,” Anya corrected, right on his heels.

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Got yer prelim report right here, Alpha.” He paused to send a packet. “But it ain’t got much more than what you know already. Boat seems flyable, provided the specs don’t need further adjusting, ’cause I still don’t understand but about half of it. But we need the fuel that was promised to the Rook if we’re gonna get more than halfway through the door.”

  Gideon nodded. “That’s hopeful then. Sounds like we need this meetup to go smoothly.” He paused. “Think about strategy. We’ll talk more after we catch forty winks.”

  I found myself nodding along, but couldn’t help but think that the meetup was just the first step. Crowe had made it clear that he had already arranged for the trade.

  From what the packet had outlined, they needed a military operation. What could the Drażeri possibly want from two lone Assets that they couldn’t handle themselves?

  You ready? Rachel gave me a playful grin. I have some toys that I need to put inside you.

  Really? I laughed. I bet you say that to all the Assets.

  Maybe. She tinkered with her interface. Does that mean you’re saying no?

  No, Nurse Gardener. I smiled as sweetly as I could. I’ll be good.

  Good. Her face morphed into a mock frown. You’d better be.

  16

  I awoke to the smell of bacon.

  “Oh.” I swung my legs out from my bunk, my stomach already grumbling. In that moment, I had never smelled anything better.

  I stepped into the ready room to see that the rest of my cadre was already assembled. Apparently, Gideon had given leave to use the conflux, as the table was absolutely covered with food. Of course Wyatt’s plate was piled with every kind of breakfast pork that existed, while Anya nibbled at a scone and drank some tea.

  “Bishop.” Gideon nodded a greeting. He was pawing through his pack, which sat on his lap. “Our Caduceus said that extra sleep and real food would do you some good.”

  “I don’t normally oversleep.” I felt sheepish. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t normally have enough synthetic chemicals in your blood to knock out a horse.” Rachel grinned at me. “Let’s see how you are.” She set down her fork and tapped at the interface on her arm.

  “This may be the first human food my boy has eaten in a while.” Wyatt gave me a sharp smile. “What did squiggly feed you, anyway?”

  “I wish I knew.” I shrugged. “I’m just surprised I didn’t get dissected.”

  We believe that 45171R is more interested in learning to inhabit Facility Assets. Anya’s link felt uncomfortable at the thought. Similar to using the Drażeri for their native psychomantic capabilities.

  “That adds up.” Wyatt nodded. “Then they used him in an attempt to capture more.”

  “While Bishop makes himself a plate, I’ll begin the briefing.” Gideon shot me a rueful smile, apologizing for not letting me have time to eat.

  I waved my hand in acknowledgement.

  He continued, “We have new data, even more than we did yesterday. Our Preceptor worked overnight and has put together an interesting timeline of information.”

  I’m telling you, Preceptors don’t sleep. Creepy. Wyatt’s link was just for me.

  Gideon continued. “We know what Crowe was up to in what he designated Strategy One. He had le
arned there were factions between the Vyriim, so he sought allies. From there, he performed small assignments that they themselves could not do. Over time, he parlayed his leverage into securing the realmship.”

  “But no gas.” Wyatt shook his head. “So fucking close.”

  “That was the next step.” Gideon took a nibble of biscuit. “His contact offered one last operation in which Crowe and Sparks were to clandestinely infiltrate a stronghold. The idea involved sabotage.”

  “Sabotaging…” Wyatt drifted off as he looked at Crowe’s maps on his interface. “The Broodwell.” Wyatt snorted. “That doesn’t sound like your average Locale One.”

  I reached for the bacon. From the packet, I assume that it’s similar to the pools discovered by Anya, Wyatt and I on Dossier I63-1998. Only larger.

  The thought was sickening. I had been nauseous from the scent alone of those briny, visceral fluids where the Vyriim spawned their young.

  Gideon nodded. “From the intel we have, the mission is pretty typical at its core.”

  “Yes.” Wyatt’s grin turned wry. “It’d be slipping into a shrine of Vyriim fanatics while in another dimension and sabotaging a pool of alien embryonic fluid.” He glanced at me. “Typical stuff.”

  “That’s every Tuesday.” I chuckled until I saw Gideon glaring at us.

  “It is typical.” His tone held firm. “Crowe’s ally had identified an enemy compound. On its surface, the mission was infiltration and demolition. One faction leveraged Crowe to attack a stronghold of their enemy. Crowe and Sparks believed this would be difficult but not impossible.”

  “Right.” Wyatt groused darkly. “Then they did more research and discovered it was a sight beyond difficult.”

  We know all this. I leaned back, chewing on the most amazing piece of bacon ever. This was all in the packet.

  “There is more, however.” Anya set her cup down.

  “Right.” Gideon interrupted Anya with a gentle smile. “I’ll get to that, don’t you worry.” He pointed at Wyatt. “Continue with your thought.”

  “Only that The Rook changed his mind on Strategy One. The Broodwell was far too well defended for him and Sparks to take alone. Two Assets wasn’t going to be near enough.”

  “Right.” Gideon looked from one of us to the next. “And when looking at his intel, I agree. The thing we have to determine is, if two was too few, is five enough?”

  I exchanged glances with Wyatt. We all knew the truth of the Broodwell; the place was defended by hundreds of servitors. Crowe had wisely decided the sabotaging of the Broodwell was impossible at that point.

  We don’t even know if his contact is square yet. I took a gulp of orange juice as I protested. It tasted like sunlight and sweetness. That’s what today’s about, right? Meeting the principal contact? For all we know, Crowe fell into a disagreement with her and got himself killed.

  “That outcome is unlikely.” Anya leaned forward, folding her hands. “A new datum has come to light.”

  “What’s that?” Wyatt leaned back in his seat.

  “Last night I was running telemetry while you were all asleep. I noticed a change in my readings while making adjustments to allow for the stasis field in the main room.” She paused delicately. “The distress signal that led us here is no longer active.”

  For a moment, we all just looked at her blankly.

  “What?” Wyatt frowned and white text immediately scrawled over the oculus. “But I followed the packet specifications exactly! I put up the exact same field!”

  “But it is not the same field.” Anya gave him a small smile. “Nor is there any reason to believe that it should be.”

  “It’s the field Crowe told you to put up, with whatever specifications he included.” I chuckled. “No one ever said it was the same.”

  “Correct.” Anya glanced around the room. “A field with a different message inside it.”

  “You’re shitting me.” Anya might as well have told Wyatt that the Country Music Awards was going to be held in Dhire Lith this year. “What did it say?”

  “It was in binary this time. I believe that Crowe didn’t know enough Morse code for this message. The exact phrasing was: Strategy One impossible due to personnel. Initiating research into Strategy Two.”

  Strategy Two? I leaned back in my seat, bacon dangling from my fingertips. I hastily scooped it into my mouth. What do you think that means?

  “I think Crowe was following up on his fascination with the portals in this city.” Gideon shifted his gaze around the table from one Asset to the next. “Multiple times, he mentions ‘the innumerable doors of Dhire Lith,’ almost as if it were a tourist attraction.”

  “He did seem very interested in the dimensional mechanics of this place.” Wyatt nodded slowly and then grinned. “He goes on and on, wondering how it is possible for a topia to be so stable and yet have so many spots almost worn through.”

  Typically, a stable topia acted as real as Rationality, just on a different axiomatic wavelength. By definition, a topia remained physically separate from other worlds, separated by an axiomatic realmwall. The rare passages between topias created eddies that made them difficult to open and maintain.

  Dhire Lith, however, contained a warren of gateways and manufactured paths to other places, according to Crowe’s packet. The idea fascinated him, and he had spent time cataloguing dozens of the different kinds of doors and thin areas originating within the Drażeri home.

  I knew of exactly one precedent of such interconnections, the transit station we had discovered on my last dossier. Naturally the Vyriim sought the simplest ways to infect new worlds so such portals must have been integral to their invasions.

  So Crowe considered the offer made by his principal contact. He accepted it but later did more research. He found that it was all but impossible, I mused, putting pieces together as I shoved some scrambled eggs in my mouth. Whatever Rachel had pumped me up with really ramped my metabolism. I could eat forever.

  “Right.” Gideon interjected. “So he pursued a secondary plan. He believed that if he could just find the right path, Dhire Lith might have a doorway back to Rationality.”

  I don’t think it does. I shook my head and swallowed. “That was the whole point of Dossier I63-1998. I think that was the first time the Vyriim truly had a gateway into our world.”

  “Crowe was already in Dhire Lith at that time, Michael. He had no way to know that.” Anya gave a tiny shrug. “Therefore, once he realized that Spark’s injury made him no longer a functional ally, Crowe abandoned his initial plan. Sparks probably didn’t even know that Crowe proposed to change goals. After all, Sparks was only intended to store the packet at that point. It wasn’t required that he know the plan had changed.”

  “That’s… That’s cold.” Wyatt did not like this portrayal of Crowe. “So he intends to just leave Sparks trapped behind that field? What, forever?”

  “Probably not.” Gideon took another sip of his coffee. “He probably was doing recon into why the city has so many manufactured gateways, using the tangler to take what readings he could.” He assured Wyatt, “I think Crowe simply got lost. He didn’t make it back one day, and the station has been sitting here ever since.”

  “Most of which doesn’t matter much to us.” I reached for another piece of toast. “You know we’re aware of all this. We’re talking this out because you think we need to consider Strategy One.”

  “I do.” Gideon again gave me his rueful grin. “I agree that Crowe and Sparks didn’t have the personnel for an assault on the Broodwell, but we might. The Seraph is a potent little packet, and since Bishop has a handle on the Gatekeeper, we could enter far easier than Crowe could.”

  “That’s a full-on assault.” Rachel regarded Gideon in slight disbelief.

  “We were sent after Bishop expecting a military expedition. This isn’t that much different, except that we lack Designate support.” He held up one finger. “If Crowe’s principal contact is trustworthy, we have our path home sitt
ing in the next room.”

  “That’s a big ‘if,’ chief.” Wyatt shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I trust the Rook’s judgement. If he trusted her, then I think that says something.” He paused. “But he didn’t in the end, did he? She was trying to wrangle him an’ Sparks in a bit too deep.”

  “She was.” Gideon nodded. “And when we meet her, if it goes well, she’ll likely want the same from us. If we trust her, that’s the road we’re going down.” He gave each of us a weighty stare. “Question is, are we enough? You’ve all got the intel. It’s a temple full of Drażeri clerics and warriors. There are servitors inside unlike anything we have data on.”

  “Our only alternative is Crowe’s Strategy Two.” I gave him a sheepish grin and finally put my fork down. “And that sounds an awful lot like having our Preceptor do telemetry on an entire city, looking for a gateway that we already believe doesn’t exist.”

  “Right.” Gideon gave me a slow nod. “These are the only two options I see.”

  “If you’re asking for permission to march us into hell, you don’t have to.” Wyatt gave Gideon a knowing grin. “You’re the Alpha.”

  “It’s more than that.” Anya gave Wyatt a sideways glance. “These are the two options Crowe saw. Once I brought this data to Gideon, they were also the only two options we saw.”

  “I need to know if the rest of you see any other possibilities. Any way at all to get out of this.” Gideon paused. “Because if not, we’re about to go make nice with a Drażeri operative. Once that’s done, it’s either assault the Broodwell for fuel or wander Dhire Lith’s doors to the infinite topias searching for Rationality.”

  For a long moment, we quietly sat, looking at each other in hopes someone had an idea. I racked my brain, trying to figure out any other possible path.

  There just wasn’t one.