Cascading Error:Critical: A Lovecraftian Technothriller (The Dossiers of Asset 108 Book 4)

by JM Guillen

  Occasionally, some would stop and—

  What were they staring at? I turned to see.

  Every few moments their attention would be drawn as if they’d heard something. They would stop in place and stare toward the southeast. Those huge, empty eyes would simply gaze upward, as if they sensed something I couldn’t see.

  Abruptly they shook it off again. Some blinked or croaked a time or two, but they went back to shuffling within the fountain.

  It’s not me, I realized and relaxedjust a bit.

  As they moved around within the fountain, I’d peered closer. They weren’t simply splashing like kids at play.

  No, this was more of a dance. They moved in concert with each other as they spun, and took specific, coordinated steps. Every so often, a few stopped in place and gazed off into nothingness.

  When the group shifted to one side, I glimpsed a woman behind them.

  ‘Woman’ might have been an exaggeration or at least something no longer technically true. She sat off to one side, lying against one of those chiseled stone walls. Her skin seemed more liquid than solid, a melting, semi-transparent, ruinous mass. Her eyes bugged out of her face, and her nose had practically vanished.

  Nude, her breasts hung like atrophied sacks of flesh, like the muscle on her arms and legs. Her hair had once been dark perhaps, but now so much of it had fallen out that I couldn’t quite tell.

  Beneath her nearly transparent flesh, a darkness coiled.

  I peered, trying to figure out—

  The black tadpole-horror inside her twitched. Its small arms wriggled, offset by its shrunken tail.

  I gagged. The woman mumbled something, whispering words I couldn’t quite make out.

  Oh God, I linked my cadre. There’s a woman down here.

  One of the cultists? Rachel inquired.

  I don’t think so. I took a few steps closer and peered in fascinated horror. I think she might be a woman infected by their spawn. I sent a quick patch to give them a look at her.

  Oh. Wyatt’s tone held a roiling revulsion. Oh fuck, Hoss.

  “I didn’t have the coins,” she mumbled, twitching. “The moonlight has eyes, and it seeks.”

  Michael, what are you going to do? Anya’s tone held gentle concern. It is certainly too late for this woman.

  We assume. I watched as she twitched and mumbled something about “the trials of the young.” Her mind could be completely whole, stuck in there but recoverable.

  Oh, Alpha, Rachel linked. Isn’t there anything you can do?

  Damn, but I wanted to. The woman simply gaped at nothingness, muttered, and twitched. I couldn’t imagine what her life must be like, trapped here in eternal shadows, with only these amphibious abominations for company.

  The thought horrified me.

  There’s a good— I stopped mid-link to count —eight of the Phothu-nacyi next to me. I mean, I could shoot her or perhaps stab her with a katana. But… I shook my head.

  I imagine it might concern them if she just falls over dead, Wyatt filled in.

  Right. I frowned. I don’t know that there’s anything I can do, unless I’m willing to start up the monster mash again.

  You can inject her, Delacruz sent. It would probably take a few moments for the defense variables to kick in. You could be a few streets away before they start flipping out.

  But they would flip out. I sighed and cursed myself. I just don’t know if I can make a difference here.

  “The moon also rises.” Her head moved up jerkily, as if she weren’t quite strong enough to move it smoothly, and she stared. “The gates of time are merciless.”

  This had been some unwitting woman, a victim of unforeseen circumstance. One dark night, these leering, croaking shadows had risen from the sea. They had taken her. They had dragged her beneath the waves, brought her to a ruined city of madness, and impregnated her. Slowly, like sunlight as it drifts beneath the waves, her humanity had faded.

  I bit my lip. The woman’s situation might be cruel, but I had a Variance to catch. If that wasn’t destroyed, then this suffering might increase a million fold.

  I couldn’t risk endangering all of us for this one woman.

  Sorrowful though it was, this kind of thing happened more commonly the Facility wanted to admit. Hell, my own girlfriend, Caprice—

  I halted in my tracks.

  I glanced back at the woman.

  The Phothu-nacyi continued their odd dance, a series of movements that involved stopping every few steps and simultaneously staring at a point in space I couldn’t see, something in the distance.

  The woman sat there, a person out of place. A person taken by unfathomable creatures, whose very body had been violated.

  Just like Caprice.

  I sighed.

  Damnit.

  Anya, I linked to her alone. I have a question?

  Anything, Michael.

  Gideon wouldn’t do this. I turned back and surveyed the woman. She gazed into nothingness, her lips crafting nonsense. He wouldn’t just leave this woman here.

  That’s hard to say, Michael.

  Is it? I quirked up the side of my mouth. Once, I saw Gideon risk blowing an entire dossier because he had concerns that the Irrat’s children might end up as collateral.

  Many times, Gideon DuMarque puzzled me. She paused. He often made choices that weren’t necessarily what I considered to be best for the dossier.

  But they were his choices. I hadn’t truly needed to ask the question. In my bones, I knew Gideon had lived and died as his own man. Even when the Designates grew frustrated with his decisions, the old man invariably did the right thing.

  It was what he’d wanted from me too.

  Make me proud.

  Okay, I linked my cadre. I’m about to be a bit reckless.

  You? Reckless? Delacruz’s link felt flat, absolutely devoid of surprise. I’m shocked. Shocked.

  I am using one of the injectors on this woman. I opened my side pack and peered inside. Rachel, it seems like I’ve got a plethora of Type III’s in here.

  You do. She paused for a moment. Yes, Alpha. If I were going to burn mecha, those are the ones I would burn.

  I have no idea how this will go, I warned them. But I’m about to kick the hornet’s nest.

  Copy that, Alpha. I felt Wyatt’s rebel grin. Give ’em hell.

  I stepped back toward the woman, though I didn’t exactly turn my back on the Phothu-nacyi. I decided I wanted to be to her left, so I’d be closer to the passageway out.

  As I slipped closer, I could make out her rambling, nonsense words.

  “The darkened eye.” She almost giggled, and her voice sighed with mad mirth. “Too much. Too many.”

  I holstered one of my disruptors and held the injector in my right hand. The things were damn near painless, and oftentimes when I received one, I didn’t feel it at all.

  But not always.

  Wait. What was—?

  Something snagged at my mind.

  Light glinted off silver. It lured me, pulled at some forgotten corner of my mind, and plucked at my dreams, while it burned with wrathful desire. Then the sensation faded.

  Hold on, I sent and stopped in place. As I neared her, I realized the woman wasn’t naked. Well, not quite.

  What’s up Hoss?

  She’s actually wearing something… on her wrist. I peered closer.

  That’s an odd choice for modesty, Rachel noted.

  It’s a tiny locket. I frowned. Silver. With a piece of purple Turkish jade set into it.

  Same stone as the amphora. Wyatt bit his lip.

  Michael, ambient Rationality is not particularly far from baseline where you stand. She paused. The entire city is slightly super-Rational, of course. But the aberrations here emit some trace amounts of Irrationality themselves.

  Here? Wyatt interjected. What do you mean?

  The creatures beneath Rome simply seemed bestial. Horrific, yes, but nothing beyond Rational physics.

  Unlike these.
I frowned.

  Affirmative. The deeper we pass into the city, the more the Phothu-nacyi shift away from baseline Rationality. It doesn’t seem to be anything they can shape so much as a portion of their nature.

  What does this have to do with the bracelet?

  If there is any stray Irrationality emanating from the bracelet, I am not noticing it. But there are several signatures near you, and without the deep telemetry coils, it is difficult to discern individual signatures.

  That’s not what concerns me. Patch incoming. I sent a small patch that showed my visual of the bracelet.

  On the tiny surface of the stone, someone had carefully scratched two small symbols. They were rough but perfect. Too perfect to be happenstance.

  The letters MB.

  Holy shit! I felt Wyatt’s eyes go wide. That’s not a coincidence.

  It can’t be, right? I ran my fingers through my hair.

  Well, think it through. Delacruz shook her head a touch. Anya says it’s not emanating Irrationality. So what is it?

  That isn’t exactly what I said, Anya reminded us.

  A message.

  The woman twitched, and I blinked at her. Had she suddenly seen me?

  No. No, she stared through me.

  My head began to pound, the start of a truly raging headache.

  Rachel, I linked to my Caduceus. I need you to do something about my headache.

  It’s not wise. And… of course you know that. You know the diaphanic emitter has to vent its radionics somewhere, and if you don’t switch it off, it vents through your basal ganglia.

  I do know. I smiled tiredly. Do it. Offset the damage.

  Yes, Alpha.

  A message? Anya frowned. From who?

  From fucking Amir Cadavas, I all but snarled. Naturally.

  I find that highly unlikely, Michael.

  It doesn’t change the truth. I blinked, but my headache had already started to fade. Don’t you see? He knew. He absolutely knew that if he left this poor woman out here, I’d have to check it out, have to try to release her, even if only through death.

  That’s insane. Delacruz folded her arms, and I felt her disbelief. Mike, the city is huge. How could he know you’d come this way?

  He couldn’t. I chewed on my lip. That’s impossible. So that means he cast a net.

  You think he left more than one? Wyatt didn’t believe me either.

  I know he did. It’s how he thinks.

  Please explain, Michael.

  He knows exactly where these amphibious pieces of shit keep their human chattel. He trotted out eight, maybe a dozen, and attached a message to them. Left them guarded by a bunch of toads.

  He’d have to leave them in places you’d be very likely to pass.

  He’s had time to plan, I responded.

  So you continue on your course. Anya linked this as if it were the most natural choice in the world. Ignore the woman and ignore the bracelet. It’s obviously a trap.

  I couldn’t though. The silver light of that bracelet shone in my mind and teased me like the caress of a lover. I had no way to explain that to them, but I just…

  Couldn’t.

  I’ve changed my mind, Artisan. Anya, I’d like you to give Assets Guthrie and Delacruz a reticule on my location.

  You want to rendezvous. I felt Wyatt nod.

  It’s the best play. Amir doesn’t just set traps. The asshole plays games. I paused. I think this is the next puzzle piece, and I need to collect it.

  We can be there in about ten minutes, Hoss. He sounded apologetic. I don’t have a fancy Wraith so I’m slow going.

  Copy that. I crouched next to the woman. I can wait.

  I peered at the bracelet, growing ever more certain it represented something I required. I felt that, yearned for it. In the place behind my mind, the twinkle of silver moonlight shone.

  Yet, I also knew something terrible lay here, something I did not wish to know.

  2

  A WHUF! echoed down the passageway I’d come through.

  If the Phothu-nacyi noted the sound, they didn’t indicate it. No, they simply stood in the fountain and stared off into the southeast, as if awaiting some terrible fury, something nameless and without form.

  By the time Wyatt and Delacruz arrived onsite, I’d spent the better part of ten minutes pacing around the woman, wondering madly about what lay within that tiny scrap of silver.

  You’ve gone completely off the map. You know that, right? Delacruz appeared as a scarlet humanoid token next to me.

  Gotta trust me on this guy, Sofia. I shook my head. He thinks around corners. I paused. Gideon knew more about him than I do, honestly. But Amir Cadavas plays games that don’t pay off for years sometimes.

  Well I’m set up about ten meters away from the courtyard, Wyatt linked. I’ve used Rosie to shift the axioms of light in a two-meter radius. I’m invisible, but I can’t move or I bust the illusion.

  So what’s the play, Mike?

  I think simple is best. I shrugged. I’ll slip up beside her and inject her. Depending upon how she reacts, I may immediately remove the bracelet.

  You should immediately remove the bracelet no matter what, Wyatt poked in. If you don’t, the thing might burn up.

  I hadn’t considered that, but Wyatt had a point. Occasionally, just as with the toad-vessel the rogue Designate had worn, the body actually caught on fire from the defensive variables.

  Obviously you’re right. So that’s the play. I’ll give her the injection and take the bracelet.

  Okay. Delacruz felt confused. What are we supposed to do?

  If the Phothu-nacyi don’t do anything, then we’ll figure out a way to sneak Officer Overalls past the courtyard.

  They’re not even really overalls anymore, Wyatt lamented. With both of the legs torn off, it’s like I’m wearing overall short-shorts.

  Your legs are quite fetching, I agreed. Let’s do this right, so these amphibious assholes never have to see you in all of your sexy glory.

  Well now, that would be a shame, and you both know it.

  Delacruz said nothing, but I felt her roll her eyes over the link.

  Okay, I linked. I’m doing this.

  “The forever ones.” The woman rocked back and forth a bit, and I did my best to focus on her face and words. I wanted to remember her as a person. If I glanced down, I would again see the horrific thing that swam inside her, the thing that had transformed her into this inhuman parody.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever injected someone for their own good, I linked nervously. I’ve done this dozens of times but never as a mercy.

  It’s definitely a mercy, Hoss.

  That’s an affirmative, Rachel sent. I would put this poor woman out of her suffering in a heartbeat, were it me.

  Do it, man, Wyatt linked. Just get it done.

  I crouched next to the woman and took a deep breath, prepared to fill her blood stream with viral mecha her body had no way to cope with. I wanted to say something, to be soothing somehow, but I feared anything from me might send her into crazed fits or give away our presence.

  So I injected her.

  The spawn within her stomach immediately went apeshit.

  It darted and wriggled madly within her.

  The woman, who apparently didn’t feel the injection at all, glanced down at her stomach with alarm. She pushed herself backward and began to scream.

  Well, that’s that, Wyatt linked. Initiating quick trigger sequences.

  “Groak?” One of the wide-eyed Phothu-nacyi glanced over our way, its head movements slow, as if waking from a dream.

  As it turned, another blinked slowly and shook its head.

  Got it! The bracelet easily broke loose in my fingers, as if it’d been crafted specifically for me. Something FLASHED silver in my mind, igniting moonlight there, setting it aflame. The sensation stunned me and knocked me backward a step.

  “Oh…” I looked around stupidly.

  The Phothu-nacyi turned in my direction. />
  “Groooooooak,” one of them gurgled. “Gr-gr-grooooooak.”

  The woman fell to her knees, writhing and screaming. Smoke poured from her eyes and mouth, and the abomination in her stomach went wild, trying to push itself free from her.

  “Michael Bishop…” The moonlight spoke from somewhere off to my left.

  Soft.

  Sinister.

  Nothing about the way it said my name seemed particularly threatening, yet its tone struck me in the chest, an elemental feeling of smug repugnance.

  I turned toward the sound and blinked like a stunned cow.

  Off to one side sat a writing desk, situated in a room that appeared to be a personal office.

  “What’s a desk doing here?” I said stupidly.

  Out loud.

  Where the Phothu-nacyi could hear.

  Bishop! Delacruz hissed through the link. What the hell, man? They heard that!

  I didn’t pay her any particular attention. Someone stood within the shadows of that odd little room and awaited me.

  Once I looked, really looked, I saw the truth. No room lay there. It was simply a cover for something else, a falseness designed to lead me astray.

  A mask.

  Silver moonlight washed over me then, and the world I knew lay somewhere far behind.

  3

  The world shimmered, rippled like starlight on water. I felt somewhat disoriented, as if not quite within my own mind.

  A lantern on the desk gave off a flickering, soft light, the only illumination in the small room.

  “Michael Bishop.” Amir Cadavas sat behind the desk and shuffled through a set of papers. He wore no mask. “How… pleasant to see you.” The sharpness in his eyes revealed that he too took no pleasure in this meeting.

  I snarled and reached for my kinetic disruptors, quick as wind, faster than thought. My eyes widened as I realized…

  Gone.

  No pistols. No katana.

  The pack that rested at my hip, which held my mecha?

  Also gone.

  Reality rippled around me. Existence blurred.

  “Do you remember what I asked you in Istanbul?” He turned his chair toward me.

  I stared into his dark eyes.