Beyond the Pale

by Jak Koke

  Lucero felt the stone awaken beneath her. She sensed it come to life like a giant awakening from hibernation.

  Then she was flying through astral space, following Oscuro across the reaches to the metaplanes.

  They appeared side by side on the outcropping of stone. So familiar, yet so alien now. The light extinguished. The song silenced forever.

  The sky was a textured gray now, like trideo static hanging above a burgundy earth. The thick metallic stench of blood dominated the putrid rot of the zombie corpses that clustered around Oscuro. Lucero saw no sign of the two strangers who had tried to save Thayla earlier. They must be dead or gone.

  The outcropping stretched over the bottomless Chasm, reaching for the other side. As Lucero looked out across the space, wind slicing through her like flechettes through paper, she felt the dread again. The incipient horror, growing out from her core. Spreading slowly to take her over, threatening to freeze her solid if she did not wrench her attention away.

  Creatures moved over there, writhing like bulbous slugs, amorphous and black. Lucero couldn’t make them out. They wanted her to help them. They desperately needed her to finish the bridge so that they could come across and repay her for her exquisite service.

  Oh, the rewards they could give. Pleasures beyond her wildest fantasies.

  “You will plant the sacrifices as they come,” Oscuro said, his words ripping her attention from the tzitzimine. Breaking the spell.

  Lucero riveted her attention to Oscuro. Pain boiled inside.

  “The souls of our devoted metahuman sheep will be coming fast. But you are a blood spirit, my slave. You have the speed and the ability to keep up the tireless construction.”

  Lucero seethed. She was his ally and must obey. His magic bound her, and she hated him for everything he had done to her. Her hatred bathed her in crimson light, making her vision red.

  “Like this,” Oscuro stepped to the very tip of the outcropping. The spirits of the dead who were being slaughtered at the Locus began to appear behind him. They were disoriented, lost. Groping in their confusion.

  Oscuro took them bodily, one by one, and slammed them into the rocks on the very tip of the outcropping. One by one they sank into the stone, hardened and became stone themselves. The transformation was very fast, and Oscuro moved to the next one. Then the next.

  He went faster and faster until the bridge had grown slightly. Moving closer to the other side, where the tzitzimine were building an outcropping of their own to meet with this one.

  Abruptly, Oscuro stopped. “Now you,” he said.

  Lucero shuddered and took his place. It seemed like such a long distance to the other side, but the spirits kept coming and coming, an endless supply of corpses to fuel the magic that built the bridge. And Lucero kept planting them into the stone, watching as they calcified and hardened. Then she stepped on the stony remains of their souls, moving aiong the lengthening bridge.

  Soon she would be far out over the abyss.

  Eventually the outcroppings would touch.

  Lucero shuddered again. What would happen then?

  Even as the question formed in her mind, she continued her work. Her master had commanded it, and she had no choice but to obey.

  29

  Ryan fell through the darkness, the warm air blasting his face and hands. Luck had given them a clear night, and he could see the pinpoints of light that indicated San Marcos a good ten klicks south of their position.

  “Condition?” he said into the tacticom microphone attached to his throat.

  Axler’s voice came back first. “Check.”

  “Check,” said Grind.

  Talon’s voice was last. “I’m okay,” he said.

  Even though he could hear the others through the tacticom, Ryan couldn’t see them. “Pull chutes now,” he said. “Our target is that cluster of lights to the south.”

  The muted sound of chutes opening came to Ryan’s sensitive ears, then he pulled his own rip cord. There was a rushing whoosh, followed by rapid deceleration as the harness of his chute dug into his ribs and armpits.

  Dhin’s voice came over the ’com. “Deploying drones now.”

  “Copy that.”

  Somewhere in the dark sky overhead, Dhin released the two drones that would be his eyes, ears, and his muscle during the run. The Condor II would float at high altitude and track the team and any opposition. The Wandjina was a military drone built around a Vindicator minigun. Very fast, very effective in combat situations. With it, Dhin could provide much-needed firepower.

  As they floated down through the sky, the San Marcos site came into view far below. It was still some distance away, but its identity was unmistakable. Thousands of people clustered around in tents and makeshift structures, illuminated by portable lamps and barrel fires. There was a lot of activity despite the early morning hour. No one was sleeping; everyone was up and moving around. Dancing.

  Around the perimeter, military personnel patrolled in tanks and LAVs. At the limit of Ryan’s low-light vision, he could see troop encampments in several locations at a ten-kilometer radius from the teocalli. Military choppers patrolled the sky above the temple, circling around the core area, but never flying directly above it.

  Huge flood lamps cast harsh shadows on the centerpiece of the activity. Nestled into a lake bottom, between an old amusement park and a step-pyramid temple. The crowd was much thicker there, and Ryan could hear the faint rhythmic thumping of drums.

  What the frag is going on here?

  He remembered the last time he’d been to this place—the night of Dunkelzahn’s assassination. He had been alone, high up the amusement park ladder, to get a better view of an excavation Aztechnology was conducting in the lake bed below. He had watched the workers in their scuba gear, seen them uncover the huge stone that Dunkelzahn had called a Locus.

  That had been the last time Ryan had spoken to the old wyrm. Dunkelzahn had been vaporized in an explosion in front of the Watergate Hotel less than an hour later.

  Ryan shifted to his astral senses, squinting at the inferno coming from the center of the crowd. A huge column of blood-colored fire swirled up from what must be the Locus, stretching like a tornado into the astral sky.

  The teocalli seemed mute and faint next to it, but Ryan knew that under normal circumstances the temple would itself be a beacon. There’s some major mojo going down, he thought. Perhaps this is what Dunkelzahn feared.

  “Talon,” Ryan said. “Look into the astral.”

  “I have,” came the reply. “What the frag are you taking us into?”

  “Not sure, chummer,” Ryan said. “But whatever they’re doing down there, I think it’s peripheral to our mission. We're here for Lethe. He’s in the temple. This ceremony or whatever might even work in our favor.”

  Axler’s voice was cold and analytical. “The sec forces will be focused elsewhere. There’ll be way too much confusion for them to do their job effectively.”

  “If you say so,” said Talon. “I’ll work on trying to keep the watcher spirits from giving us away. But I’ve never seen so many in one place before.”

  “Cluster is right on time,” Jane said. “There should be something to occupy everyone’s attention very shortly.” Grind’s voice growled in Ryan’s ear, “Where is the ollamaliztli stadium?”

  “About six hundred meters behind the temple,” Ryan said. The stadium sat in the dim light of surrounding illumination—street lamps and security lights. It was inside the military perimeter, but had not been opened to the public. They wouldn’t have to land in a crowd of people.

  “I see it,” said Grind. “Coming up fast.”

  As they neared the ground, Ryan began picking out individual teams of armed guards, some occupying stationary positions, others moving through the crowds. “I hope that distraction comes soon,” he said. “Otherwise we’ll be like glued ducks up here.”

  “Jane?” Axler’s voice.

  “Should be any second,” came Jane’s voic
e.

  A few ticks passed, and Ryan was jockeying his chute to get in position for landing when he saw the flash. A split second before the sound hit, a red and white burst of brightness from the head of the lake. Then a wave of sound crashed over him, ear-splitting and deep. A massive explosion ripping through the dark fabric of night.

  Right on time.

  Ryan had seen crowds react to explosions before. Close to the explosion, they ran away from the blast, trying to get as far from the destruction as possible. But a few hundred meters farther back, people merely panicked, trying to get out, but not knowing which way to go. Mob hysteria.

  As Ryan watched, people ran into each other, trampling the slow and the weak, those who couldn’t get out of the way. Military personnel tried to calm them so that they could move through and get to the dam, which now spewed water.

  “Look at the center of the crowd,” Talon said. “No one is reacting.”

  As Ryan brought his attention there, he saw that Talon spoke true. The core cluster of people had not moved. It was as though they had not even heard the explosion. Only those outside the lake bed and on the far side of the temple had reacted.

  “They’re under some sort of enchantment,” said Talon.

  “It’s not important,” Ryan said. “The distraction served its purpose. Now concentrate on landing. Can’t have you turning an ankle. We need your talents, but I don’t want to be carrying you out.”

  Below him, Grind landed, coming down hard. The dwarf rolled, using the third arm in his chest to tumble into a standing position. He made it look easy. Axler was next, pulling up at the last second to touch down as smooth as polished ice. Talon nearly hit Grind, but his landing, too, was fairly smooth.

  Ryan came last, feet hitting, flexing his knees under the impact and running to a halt. “Cut your chutes and hide them,” he said. “Won’t be needing them.”

  Jane came on. “Take the south tunnel exit and clip the fencing. I’ve deactivated the security cameras there, and no one’s watching the stadium now. The diversion worked perfectly.”

  “Copy,” Ryan said. “I’m point.” He climbed the short stone wall and moved into the tunnel, followed by Grind, Talon, and then Axler bringing up the rear.

  Ryan cut the fence and they were through, moving across a parking lot at a rapid pace. The parking lot was covered with trailers and old recreational vehicles. People were running everywhere, confused and scared.

  Nobody gave Ryan and the others a second glance.

  They crossed a road and a short field of grass as they neared the teocalli, which rose from the dark lawn like a mountain of hewn rock. The smell of mana was palpable to Ryan, coming from the temple and the Locus. Like a heavy thickness to the air around them.

  The teocalli had no perimeter fencing; the first tier of the step-pyramid structure jutted from the grass, seven or eight meters straight up. Ryan picked out the guards and some security cameras on the top of the tier, alert and scanning the crowd. He also noticed recessed weapons mounted inside camouflaged turrets—miniguns and assault canons.

  “Okay, Jane,” Ryan subvocalized. “Approaching temple. How do we get to the rear entrance you were talking about?”

  “It’s directly opposite the main entrance. It’s at the end of a long corridor, and I’m not exactly sure where it comes out.”

  Dodging through the crowd, Ryan led the team around the back of the pyramid, the side away from the main entrance and the lake bed where the Locus rested. Ryan scanned the rock of the temple wall, but it was smooth and straight. No sign of a rear entrance.

  “It might be masked,” Talon said. “Hidden by quickened magic.”

  Ryan gave a short nod. And it might not be on the temple at all, he thought. Perhaps that corridor is underground, which might mean. . . .

  Ryan scanned the area behind the temple. Live oak and pecan trees clustered here and there in the small grassy field, but there was no sign of a guarded entrance. Frag. Further back was an asphalt parking lot, full of cars. Surrounded by a low fence adorned by signs stating that the lot was restricted to teocalli personnel only.

  No one is camping there.

  Still, as he looked, he could see nothing that could be an entrance. Ryan shifted his perception into the astral plane, focusing to try to avoid the blinding light of the temple and the Locus, their auras so close they obscured the nuances of everything in the whole vicinity.

  If there was a hidden entrance, Ryan would need to see details. He drew from the Dragon Heart, its dormant presence a constant reassurance at his gut. And as its power sharpened his astral vision, something came into view.

  In the corner of the parking lot, the aura of a GMC Bulldog stepvan shifted under scrutiny, revealing its true shape as a small stone building disguised by a sophisticated masking illusion.

  Talon was right! Ryan thought. There's a fragging guard house.

  Ryan noticed that the little building was directly behind the center of the temple. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve found it.”

  The sound of the drums had not ceased because of the explosion, but they faded a little behind them, blocked by the huge structure of the temple. Once he’d broken the masking, Ryan could see the small stone guard house clearly.

  He could see two guards, one on either side of the wide stone door. A retinal scanner hung on the wall behind one of the guards.

  “Axler,” he said. “Take Talon and Grind around to the edge of the lot on the far side, nearest to the entrance. I’ll take care of the guards, but have your Supersquirt ready for anybody we find inside.”

  Axler’s smile stretched the black and white camouflage patches on her face. She drew her Ares Supersquirt, a soaker gun filled with gamma scopolamine and DMSO for skin penetration. Gamma scopolamine was a neurotoxin, extremely fast-acting. It targeted motor nerves and caused temporary paralysis instead of death. A few drops on the skin and even a troll would go down.

  “You heard the man,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Ryan waited for a minute while Axler and the others circled around the asphalt lot. Then he took a few deep breaths to center himself. He concentrated his stealth magic, gathering shadows around him, blending his aura into those of the objects nearest him. diffusing his heat signature. All this he did with magic of the Silent Way, the path he had been taught by Dunkelzahn.

  When he had disappeared completely, Ryan approached the low fence. Jumped it and moved through the parked vehicles like a whisper on the wind.

  The two guards stood alert, probably due to the recent explosion and the thousands of people gathered nearby. They were Aztechnology Leopard soldiers, one troll with a Panther assault cannon, one ork carrying an AK-98 with under-barrel grenade launcher. Both wore tan uniforms over light body armor.

  Ryan drew two of his xenoketamine-fiiled throwing darts.

  “In position,” came Axler’s whisper in Ryan’s ear.

  Ryan moved, a slight distortion against the background of cars. He fired the darts in succession, the first one nailing the troll in the base of the neck. The second one, off by a centimeter or two. landed just behind the ork’s ear.

  I’m getting rusty, Ryan thought.

  Both guards collapsed to the ground.

  Ryan reached them a second later, Axler and Grind and Talon appearing beside him as he checked the guards. Sleeping soundly.

  Axler readied her Supersquirt as Ryan lifted the ork’s head and placed it against the retinal scanner. With a gentle sigh, the stone door opened.

  Axler spun into the space, her soaker dousing the entire area, catching the two interior guards by surprise. They had time to turn, their eyes opening wide with instant realization as they went for their weapons.

  Nobody could have reacted fast enough. Axler’s spray caught them across the exposed areas, face and hands. They grimaced in pain and went rigid as their muscles tightened involuntarily. Then they fell, their guns clattering to the stone.

  “There’s a watcher spirit,” Talon said
. “It saw us and is taking off.”

  “Banish it!” said Ryan.

  Talon focused for a second.

  “Grind, can you help me with these guys,” Ryan said, pointing to the outside guards.

  Grind nodded.

  Talon looked up. “Got it,” he said.

  “Good work, chummer,” Ryan said. “Now, can you do your invisibility magic on Axler, Grind, and yourself?”

  Talon smiled at Ryan. “Ready when you are,” he said.

  “Anytime,” Ryan said, dragging the ork guard by his booted feet.

  Grind lifted the troll’s shoulders, nearly as wide as he was tall, and followed Ryan through the door, pulling the huge troll body inside with him.

  Ryan watched the others fade from view, becoming harder to see as Talon’s magic went to work. Ryan led them down the stairs and into the underground tunnel. “We’re inside, Jane.” he said.

  “Good,” came her response. “Hurry. I’ve looped the camera feeds, but it won’t be long before some slot in the security booth notices that the troll keeps picking his nose over and over.”

  Ryan gave an abrupt laugh. “Can you give me an estimate on how long we can expect to be alarm-free?”

  “I can give you one,” Jane said. “But it’d be wrong. They’ve got progs to detect the loop patch. Even with the sophisticated semi-randomizer I included, their security host will most likely trigger an alarm in less than ten minutes.”

  “Copy,” said Ryan. The stairs ended in a tunnel, lit by yellow incandescent bulbs recessed into the stone. Murals covered the walls, done in the style of the ancient Aztec Indians, but Ryan was looking for hidden security cameras and recessed autofire drones. The invisibility should fool the cameras, but Ryan was the only one who could move without sound. Microphones could give them away.

  “Take a right when the corridor ends,” Jane said. “Then another right into the stairwell. Go down a flight.”

  “Copy.”