by JM Guillen
I suppose she trusted me to liquefy the parasites.
Rachel crouched next to her and fired her stinger into the throng.
Wyatt struck a couple of keys, then began to fire like mad. Brilliant, reflective stasis fields exploded into existence in front of us and formed a wall, frictionless and smooth.
He didn’t entirely block the stairwell, because we needed to pass, but it certainly changed the playing field.
This one is an electrical surge. Wyatt created a circular token on my visual. Stay this far away from it. He widened that ring to show a radius.
Toadstrosities croaked from behind us.
Reinforcements, Anya linked. Likely those that patrolled below.
Fuck.
“Damn it,” Wyatt grumbled and pounded the keys hung at his hip. “We’re never gonna get anywhere this way.”
The Artisan has a point. As Anya linked, she fired her weapons at R’tae, but missed. We’ve been told on more than one occasion that these events are time sensitive.
Holy shit. I narrowed my eyes as I glared at the Screi. This whole situation is a stall.
You saw how many foot soldiers they had, Rachel linked. All they have to do is hold us on the stairs until their Irrational garbage is finished.
How far forward can you take us, Gatekeeper? I fired down the stairwell at the first of the creatures. I’d kept the focus very wide, so bowled them back with shots the size of softballs fired at the speed of sound.
While I shot with one hand, I sheathed my katana with the other, and drew the second disruptor. I’d need it if the oncoming thunderstorm of parasites swarmed our way.
I can’t. I felt Delacruz snarl. Aberrant Vectors, Mike. I can maybe take us forward one or two at a time.
Bull. I fired again and again to keep the ones at our back at bay. In Ar’Ghosa, you and Beardy McAlabama here overcame that garbage. He stabilized Rationality; you created apertures.
Dune buggies, Wyatt linked. Heh.
We also sat on a mesa and did math for half an hour, she linked harshly. We weren’t exactly fighting for our lives at the time.
So you admit you’ve done it before. I smiled over the link.
Not during combat, Wyatt growled as he laid down spikes behind us. A few of them blossomed into stasis fields, while others froze the rabid toads into shards of ice.
Cool. It should be easier this time. I fired my disruptors. I can probably give you about ten minutes.
Ten minutes—!
Take an aperture back to the balcony. I eyed Delacruz. Just the two of you should be fine. Do the math. Get back.
I triggered the Magus.
I don’t like it, Hoss.
Artisan, I don’t know that we have a choice. I fired again and bowled one of the scrambling amphibians backward. We need the Gatekeeper to advance from this location. If it’s because you can’t do it, just say so.
Can’t?
That did it. I couldn’t look directly at Wyatt, but I felt his eyes harden over the link.
Oh, we’ll do it. He paused. Gatekeeper, we need an aperture. He moved to Delacruz’s side, and after a moment they jaunted away.
Bishop, Michael. 108. The prompt paused. If you wish to allow this packet access to Mecha, Type Five, please input authorization code.
Done. I aimed at one of the toad-tastic horrors, and glanced around for R’tae.
The Screi was nowhere to be seen.
As I peered about, I used an injectable, and then a second. Authorization code 020798361
Initiating now, Asset. Again, the soft voice felt smug in my mind, cocky.
The air rippled around me like heat over the desert. Cool wind drifted across my skin, exactly like the Wraith.
Alpha, can we actually afford to remove them from play? Rachel took three steps forward and shot one of the amphibians squarely in the neck.
The aberration fell, gurgling with inhuman emotion as its young poured onto the floor in a semi-liquid mess.
I need you and Anya to take the stairwell up. I’ll deal with the downstairs set.
How? How will you do that all by yourself?
That’s right, I forgot. I smiled as I linked her. You weren’t here last time.
Before she could answer, a loud crackle filled the room. In three separate locations, several meters apart, the air burst with sharp, amber light.
When the brightness cleared, three other Michael Bishops stood within the room.
Now the simulacra seemed considerably rougher than they had previously. Like me, they’d lost their suit jacket, and the rest of their clothes showed they had truly been through some shit.
Each moved of his own accord, possibly mimicking movements my Crown had stored within the system.
It was damned creepy.
Just as before, my Crown easily showed the difference between them and reality. My system readout represented them as simple tokens, the same place markers our phaneric nodes used.
But to the naked eye…
The simulacra appeared perfect.
To my left, Fake Bishop raised a firearm toward one of the toads. To my right, Fake Michael moved toward another of the aberrations and drew his own weapon.
Okay, Rachel. Within my Crown I brought up my mecha dialogues. Am I just burning these Type Fives?
Um, yeah. She seemed uncertain.
That’s what we need right? More allies on the field? And If I burn the mecha…
Right. She shook her head. Just remember, it’s a hungry packet. Don’t let it burn all the mecha at once.
You think this is a mistake?
No. She paused, and I felt her grow more confident. Just access your deck dialogues and burn the mecha. Apply the burn to the Magus.
Copy that.
It took longer for her to explain than to actually do it. The moment I felt the mecha begin their burn…
The simulacra changed.
I couldn’t describe exactly how the simulacra shifted; I hadn’t stared intently at any of them, but something about them solidified the moment I burned those mecha. The shadows around them became crisper; the sounds they made as they moved echoed just a bit.
The one I’d designated Fake Mike leapt toward a tan and green colored Phothu-nacyi, his weapon drawn. As he fired, the kinetic axioms of reality shifted, just as if an actual disruptor had been fired.
A fan of mucous-y aberration brains splattered across the floor, and the toad’s body fell. Instantly, a sickening swarm of the parasites burst from the skin of its dead parent.
I watched them swim through the air, mesmerized by their serpentine motion.
They fell upon the simulacra.
And drifted right through it.
Okay, I linked to Rachel. That’s cool.
I turned back toward the upward stairwell. The simulacra could hold our rear, at least for a moment. I needed to make certain—
R’tae swung one clawed hand at my head and his savagely sharp nails raked at my face.
Sharp lines of flame burned across my cheek, and I flew back to land on my ass. One of my disruptors fell from my hand.
“[Little human garbage,]” the Screi said condescendingly. He took a step closer, and hurled a powerful kick into my ribs.
I felt them crack, and cried out in anguish.
“[You are out of your depth here,]” he sneered. “[Do you know how many of the Phothu-nacyi we can call upon?]”
Second injection required, my packet informed me, in that slightly superior tone. Simulacra integrity will begin to diminish in three minutes.
“[You are like a child.]” A cruel leer twisted R’tae’s face. He raised one leg and kicked me again.
Pain exploded in my side, even as I rolled with the kick. I scrabbled to my feet and drew my katana.
“[Yes,]” R’tae sneered. “[Fight. Learn what it is to be helpless.]”
I threw myself upon him.
On my visual, Rationality statistics flickered as the Screi dodged my first strike.
Now
that I gazed directly at him, I saw his form grow shadowed when he shifted into his uncannily fast movement.
“[Every time you have struck me, it has been little more than luck,]” he mocked. “[Can you feel death’s approach, mammal?]”
As a response, I took one quick step back and brought up my kinetic disruptor. I fired as rapidly as possible and scattered my shots all around him.
Rationality statistics spiked for an instant as he dodged backward, and melted into shadow. His movement stunned me, impossible to track with the eye.
“[Is that the best you can do?]” He smirked.
“No.” I took another step forward and fired at his feet.
In instant response, he leapt to his right.
Wyatt’s spike burst with cerulean light as electricity screamed forth from and sundered the air between it and R’tae.
The Screi screamed, a wail of anguished fury.
Arc after arc of blindingly bright electricity coursed into the aberration. Its dark robe burned from its body as it thrashed.
“I’d say that’s about the best I can do.” I shielded my eyes from the crackles of searing light.
R’tae’s horrified cries echoed in the hallway, and I smelled burnt flesh.
Rationality spiked, fast as thought.
The Screi burst away from the lightning’s radius, little more than smoke and wind.
This time he didn’t stop but vanished down the hall behind us.
Michael! Anya fired her automatic weapons and drove some of the Phothu-nacyi back. She and Rachel had held the stairs well, supplemented by Wyatt’s stasis fields.
They’d forced the enemy down a narrow path.
Yet now, the creatures pushed through. The uncounted corpses had piled up higher than Wyatt’s wall. And unlike the stasis fields, the corpses weren’t frictionless; the toads had started to climb over them.
“I’m here.” I stepped forward and fired both disruptors at one of the loathsome toad’s bodies. The force liquefied the wriggling, black parasites, and splattered them back against the other Phothu-nacyi.
“Are we clear behind, Alpha?” Rachel crouched and carefully aimed the stinger before each shot.
Regardless of her skill set, the lady was a master with the device. She didn’t miss once, and every foe she struck fell quivering to the ground.
“Not clear per se.” I glanced back over my shoulder.
The simulacra infuriated every Phothu-nacyi they’d stood against. The False Assets couldn’t be struck, no matter how the aberrations tried.
However, due to the axioms of force, the strikes on our side remained quite lethal.
“We might be okay.” I nodded. “Although my ribs might be cracked.”
“On it,” Rachel sighed.
Second injection required, my packet informed me smugly. Simulacra integrity will begin to diminish in one minute.
I toggled the mecha dialogue and burned some more of the Type Fives. Turning back to the front, I slipped in next to Anya and Rachel.
All we had to do was hold.
6
When Wyatt returned with Sofia at his side, he brought more than his requisitioned share of smug certainty.
If I can’t fucking do it, he scorned. Bitch-op, please.
Show me your stuff. I gave him a sharp smile. I mean, if you can.
Delacruz shot a quarrel on the ground, then used the Temporal Corona to create a second aperture just above it.
While she worked, Wyatt began to lay spikes.
“How do ya like me now?” He sang one of his newer favorite country songs.
WHUF! WHUF!
You’re alright. I guess. I’ve decided I fucking hate these guys though. I shot another of the Phothu-nacyi and it hurled back as if struck by a truck.
Don’t worry, Mikey, Guthrie condescended. Daddy’ll get you out of here.
Delacruz strode around her aperture as her slender fingers tinkered with the Temporal Corona hung behind her head. With just a few alterations, the aperture tilted its orientation to roughly match the angle of the ascending stairwell.
“Ready here, Artisan.” She gave him a crooked smile. “My aperture is, I mean.”
“Let me get ready.” He frowned as he focused intently. “Don’t be impatient if it takes me a minute.”
“Hey.” She held up one hand. “Better too slow than too fast.”
Wyatt’s spikes pulsed a deep magenta. He struck one final button. “Ready.”
Around them, Rachel, Anya, and I engaged a completely ridiculous number of Phothu-nacyi.
As time passed, they crept closer and closer, pinning us in on both sides.
Delacruz stepped to the front of the aperture and peered through it. Even from where I stood, I saw a second aperture provided a clear view all the way up the hallway to the corner.
“Engaging.” Delacruz brought up the gatekeeper crossbow and fired through the lower aperture.
It came out of the upper one at the approximate speed of a jet plane.
After a moment, and I assumed a warning about PARADOX LOOPING, Sofia killed the upper aperture. The lower one then shifted perspectives to show us the opposite end of the hallway.
It didn’t look good.
While the entire hallway might not have been completely infested with Phothu-nacyi, more than a hundred of the horrific little things lurked in there. They crowded around the silvery domes Wyatt had created, a tide of croaking, gurgling horrors.
If it hadn’t been for those stasis fields, we would have been overrun long before.
We’ll take a quick precaution. Wyatt leaned toward the aperture and his gear whined. With a rapid series of shots he lay down spikes behind the horde of Phothu-nacyi, which instantly resolved into a wall of stasis fields.
“We’re ready for extraction, Alpha.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “That is, if you’re ready?”
As it happened, I’d never been more ready.
“Um, yes.” I glanced toward Rachel. “Make it so.”
“No. Jeez.” She shook her head. “This is more of a ‘beam me up’ moment.” She paused. “Why do you ruin everything?”
We strode through the aperture and left the Phothu-nacyi behind.
At the far end of the hallway, Wyatt’s stasis fields kept them at bay. They couldn’t climb the frictionless surfaces. They had no way to know where we stood.
We were safe.
“Hope we’re not coming back this way,” Rachel muttered.
The chances of that are insignificant, Anya informed her.
“Of coming back?” Rachel’s eyes went wide. “How bad is the Variance now?”
“We won’t be coming back this way.” I turned to Rachel. “We’ve got quarrels all over the city.”
“I guess the Gatekeeper better live.” Delacruz gave a sickly smile. “Heh.”
“No one gets to die,” I growled. “I’m placing a moratorium on dying.”
We crept forward through the shadows.
Eldritch Emanations
The hallway ahead turned at a right angle, again. We climbed to the third such turn and the stairwell continued inexorably upward.
Scarlet flames in hanging braziers lit the entire way. Various furs covered the dark stone, and tapestries lined the walls.
These interested me. I didn’t exactly stop to examine them, but I did give them a glance as we passed. The art told the story of a proud people, and an empire built within a jungle.
Hadn’t Amir said something about Antarctica, before the cold?
Eventually, Anya stopped and gave her head a tiny shake.
The token over our visuals showing the Variance grew ever larger.
I’m removing the token regarding the Variance, Anya explained. We’re getting much closer, and the resources required are taxing.
“Just keep us apprised,” I said.
The token vanished, and I felt my Crown… relax, as if it had carried a load I hadn’t noticed.
“I’ll place some quarrels,” Sof
ia proclaimed. “Also, I’ll delete locations from Rome and the timeshare.”
“We don’t wanna go back to the timeshare?” Wyatt muttered. “I don’t know why not. It’s full of crazy cultists who have sex magic to create cataclysm babies. Should be fun.”
With the knowledge that the way behind us had been blocked, we were able to focus more readily on the Variance, and plan our approach.
I spent time considering as we maneuvered through the Dirge and tried to weigh every option.
“So, that guy was a Reptilian.” Wyatt glanced at Delacruz. “Weren’t you telling me Reptilian shapechangers aren’t real?”
“I was telling you the Designates aren’t Reptilian shapeshifters,” she clarified.
Something ahead, Anya linked.
We halted.
I hadn’t seen it, and might not have if it hadn’t been for Anya. I’d decided not to keep my optics on the entire time, to avoid the inevitable headache. As a result, I saw little more than a few meters in front of us in the red light.
Only now we’d come to the gate.
Constructed from a green-black metal, the arched gateway stood at least twelve meters tall. Two gargantuan braziers flanked the large construction, their light silhouetting lean, emaciated figures milling around.
The gateway stood open. Darkness loomed behind it.
Optics, I linked and toggled mine on.
The room beyond seemed to be every bit as large as the gates that prefaced it, a shadowed darkness. Within, great pillars stretched up out of view, but I had a difficult time seeing deeply into the room.
Space bent within.
Something lurked in that darkness, something that watched me as certainly as I gazed within it.
My mind crackled and burned as I gazed into that infinite room.
That space isn’t Rational. Anya pushed her hair from her eyes as her other hand twitched.
It’s not another topia. Please. Numbers flickered by on Wyatt’s oculus as he peered forward. So fucking sick of other worlds.
No. Anya’s left hand joined her right, plucking at strings only she could see. It’s also not super-Rational or sub-Rational eddies. Axiomatic obduracy is weaker. I’d almost— Anya stopped midlink as her eyes widened.