NANO Archive 01: The City of Fire

by Jason Crutchfield

  “Last chance… Info on Bradich…” I grinned down at the defeated duke.

  “Hmph, zhere iz nozhing you can do to make me zqueal, Zhe-wolf. I will not betray Zarge or Bradich.” He turned his head violently to the side.

  “Hm, is that so? Suit yourself then.” I lowered atop him, my hips straddling his own. I took great care to press my every female contour, no matter how engrossed in wounds, against his body. I even flattened my chest against his and locked my legs against the sides of his hips.

  “Ihlia! Good heavens, this is hardly the time…” Oswald gripped the bridge of his nose with two fingers and rubbed disappointedly.

  “Whoa, girly, what the hell are you doin'?” Crelyos clamped his free hand across his eyes, though I noted he left a tiny slit between his pointer and middle finger from which he no doubt watched.

  I pursed my lips and lowered my face slowly toward Raze's. His body stiffened with the rigidity of a steel beam. No doubt the excruciating pain of pressure against his burned body played a part in his reaction, but I suspected the true nature of his discomfort possessed far more practicality. At the last moment when my lips threatened to meld with his two cracked pieces of charcoal, he sat straight up. He shoved me from his body with a yelp that mixed the agony of his sudden movements with the terror of what almost transpired.

  “Holy shit, woman. Get off me, that's so gross. What the fuck, man,” He cried out. His voice, his real voice, escaped him in a torrent of curses and unrefined murmurs. His manner of speech barely differed from that of Crelyos' during his angry tirades. Crelyos erupted into brazen laughter and leaned back over the rails. The floor below, littered with the blood and mangled corpses of many of Raze's subordinates, still held a small group of the shameless bandits confused by the events above them. Crelyos grinned and shouted down to them.

  “Your boss just got whooped. I suggest you make yourselves scarce before bad things happen.” Crelyos lifted his metallic right arm and clenched the steel digits into a fist. The fearful sound of the thugs racing for the door elicited another shameless guffaw from my ally. I shook my head and stepped over to Raze with a cat-like smile, “It's been a while for me, but I hope you'll be gentle.” I tossed in a wink for good measure.

  “Ok, ok, I get it. I'll talk. Look, it's like I told you. I don't deal directly with Bradich. I only deal with Sarge. From what I understand, Sarge is Bradich's right hand man. The military wasn't the only organization that knew about his knack for bringing out the best, or worst, in people. Harbinger is putting that to good use and gave Sarge complete authority over all his troops.” Raze sat forward and, when he noticed I was not going to attempt molesting him again, relaxed, allowing his nanites to work on his body's burns.

  “Troops? Are you trying to say that Harbinger has amassed some kind of military force, dear boy?” Oswald stepped forward and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Something like that. It's more like an organization than a military. Think FBI rather than the army. They call themselves E Pluribus Unum. They got their peons, they got their top brass, and they got their special agents. Their special agents are like us… some of them got their hands on unique implants from somewhere, others have a unique skill set or are suffering minor hyped symptoms to cram a few more nanites into their brains. I hate to break it to you, well actually I don't, but I'm the lowest on the totem pole. Both in strength and influence,” Raze glanced up in my direction.

  I felt a sense of dread grip my chest like the icy fingers of death. If Raze was indeed the weakest and most incapable of Sarge's subordinates, then I was in trouble. Big trouble.

  “You're the lowest? What? But you, me, and Sarge were closer than brothers! He shoulda put you way up there. That doesn't seem right at all.” Crelyos shook his head.

  “Crelyos, man. Sarge has changed. He's not the same guy we knew in the military. Hell, he's not even the same guy we ran around with as bandits right after the shit hit the fan. Something's changed him. Don't approach him expecting a high five or neck hug. He'll kill your ass. I'm warning you,” Raze turned to the former soldier.

  “What about the collection of hyped? It seems like you lads are working an around-the-clock operation just to take as many captive as possible. It hardly seems a profitable endeavor when you consider their radical instability and rabid disposition. They receive poor marks as test subjects and even worse as a directed force of arms. I am baffled. Shed some light, won't you dear boy?” Oswald stroked the scraggly beard hanging from his chin.

  “Don't ask me, Doctor. I just do as I'm told. We collect as many hyped as possible and hold them in a warehouse until the end of the week. One of Sarge's agents comes and takes them away in a huge trailer. No one knows where they go, though. We got a quota; if we don't meet it then they cut our rations,” Raze muttered a trailing tidbit under his breath, “… and my sludge supply.”

  “But why the charade? The guy destroys the world then starts gatherin' up all the crazies? It makes no sense. What could he be up to? I figured guys like him just loved to see things break and fall apart, but he's like a kid with tinker toys. He's blowin' shit up then tryin' to stitch it back together all different and shit.” Obviously bemuddled, Crelyos scratched the top of his head.

  Raze glanced left and right, theatrically examining his surroundings. When he leaned forward, his voice escaped him in a low hush, “I hear it's a new world project. Lots of research is going on in the background, and there are a lot of movers and shakers. Harbinger's got some brain he found working on stuff.”

  “What stuff?” Oswald asked.

  “Hell if I know. Stuff. They're just rumors, but the whispers are everywhere. Not just with my men either. It could be one of those cliche ‘guy destroys the world to rebuild it as he sees fit,’ things. I don't know.” Raze shrugged his shoulders.

  “None of that matters. I'm going to kill him. If the world changes or gets destroyed as a consequence, so be it.” I felt the bitter taste of hatred saturate my words as I spat them. I reached up and gripped my rifle. After snatching its length from Crelyos' metal hand, I returned the muzzle's aim to Raze's forehead, “You still haven't given us a location. I don't care where it is as long as it eventually leads us to Bradich.”

  “Calm down, girly. From what Raze's sayin', these guys are tough stuff. This opens up a whole new can of worms. This isn't just one man rootin' around in the pleasure of destroyin' the world; this is a group of killers with a set ambition. We gotta proceed with caution.” Crelyos placed his fleshy left hand on my shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze.

  “Hmph. Northwest. Sarge has an installation in the area they used to call the state of Colorado. Bradich gave it to him; Harbinger had a real thing for Colorado before the Global Conflict. Apparently it was a really beautiful place. You might find Sarge there. If not, you'll at least find one of his top agents running the place.” Raze staggered to his feet. The raw reds and ashen blacks peeled away; at the very least, the canvas of skin coating his body started resembling something similar to flesh.

  “Thanks Raze, I knew somewhere in there you were still your old self!” Crelyos walked up and slapped his left hand down atop the man's shoulder. Considering I endured similar agony from my burns and understood the two of us probably belonged in a burn ward somewhere, I offered Raze a sympathetic cringe. The former duke of flame screamed with a quivering voice and dropped to his knees once more; it surprised me that he resisted the urge to bawl outright.

  “Agh, shut up, Crelyos. What do you know of my ‘old self’? You, Sarge, everyone in the military. I hated all of you. Always looking over my shoulder when I wanted to be me, always worried what was at my back. Forced to put up pretenses and pretend to fit into what was considered a productive addition to the gene pool. You don't know my ‘old self’ any more than you know my current self!” Raze shouted, his voice full of angst.

  “Hm? Productive
addition to the gene pool? I thought you liked to do the dirty with other men.” Crelyos arched a brow down at the curled up duke. Raze's gaze snapped up and his eyes widened.

  “You guys knew?” Raze's lips quivered. I perceived a quaking change overtaking the charcoal man at our feet. For all the oozing hatred and bitterness Raze exuded in his every action, he looked hopefully up toward Crelyos as though the next words from his mouth would offer condemnation or salvation. Though clearly an adult, I perceived the broken man as nothing more than a conflicted teenager.

  Crelyos arched his brow, “Of course we knew. It was pretty obvious. I mean, you avoided girls every time we went to bars. You stared at men out the corner of your eyes, you washed your hands every time you took a piss, you refused to eat bar nuts. Which, all that superstition about germs on those things is bullshit. They're delicious. Anyway, we'd be pretty stupid not to know. And you know what?”

  Crelyos knelt down in front of his former comrade and placed a hand on top of his shoulder, “Those times you felt somethin' over your shoulder? That was us, man. Watchin' out for you like we always have. We knew there were ignorant bastards out there that might blame you and your tastes for the shit storm state of the world. But when you felt somethin' at your back, that was probably us trashin' some jackass that thought like that and dumping his ass in the garbage where it belonged.”

  “Why didn't you say… anything?” Raze's eyes misted. I stared at him with the same convoluted hodgepodge of emotional struggle that I offered Bojack in his time of despair. Intellectually, I understood the reason for his teary eyes. I understood the confusion, frustration, and relief washing over him. I remembered those feelings from my time spent with Donovan and Bradich before everything rotted right before my eyes. My heart failed to grasp the depth of it, and I found myself shaking my head.

  “Why would we? Why did it matter? You were our brother in arms, a damn good soldier, and a better friend. I actually hated wearin' our formal uniforms. They were stuffy and made my neck itch. Why didn't you ever say anything about that? Because it doesn't matter. It's just one characteristic of you; it doesn't define you, and it doesn't change how we felt about you. We were a team and the best there was. And that was the end of that.” Crelyos nodded firmly.

  His voice dipped low when he next spoke, “but you know… after listenin' to all that bullshit you said here tonight, I thought about punchin' you square in the jaw. You talk to Ihlia like she's not a person. You imprint all your woes on her like the choice she makes to fight for somethin' is the cause of all your bad luck. You want her to change to your idea of how someone should be who is grateful over somethin' dumb like being able to love a man. You're no better than all those people you hated, old friend.” Crelyos stood.

  “I…” Raze's voice quivered. I watched the revelation cascade atop his shoulders like a ton of bricks. Raze himself had placed all the pressure, all the intolerance, and all the pretenses upon himself in his tragic past. His emotions erupted from his chest, and he sobbed. He coiled up into a tiny ball, and tears freely flowed down his face. The flow of emotions washed away the burnt skin clinging to his healing body like the black spots fading from his soul. It seemed like a dramatic symbolism that represented the events far too accurately.

  “Can we kill him now?” For the third time I placed my rifle against his forehead. This time, I slid the bolt action lever back to chamber a new round and pressed my finger against the trigger. Crelyos' hand found my shoulder a second time. Thrice he had interrupted my execution. As he applied pressure to my arm, I shot him an impatient glare.

  “Ihlia…” Crelyos' voice trailed off with sympathetic evocation.

  “He murdered his own men, took an entire town hostage, and tried to kill us. Did I mention he murdered his own men? He's just like Bradich. I'm not letting him out of here alive,” I grunted at the towering soldier staring down at me with pleading eyes.

  “Look at him, Ihlia. He's a diva, that's all. He always has been. The men he betrayed were scum anyway; the town is safe; he didn't kill everyone in Loftsborough; and if people went around murderin' everyone that tried to kill them, we would be extinct,” Crelyos stated.

  “What about Eugene?!” I glared at the former soldier. He lowered his head.

  “It's the principle. It's betrayal. Those men trusted him, and he broke that.” I regained my resolve and shrugged Crelyos' hand from my shoulder. My finger coiled around the trigger.

  Crelyos stepped in front of the barrel of my firearm, “I get it. Mete out punishment for traitors. I know I'm askin' you to be a hypocrite right now; I know I'm askin' you to go against somethin' you believe in real strongly. But please, Ihlia. For me. As a friend, will you just let this one go?” I never heard Crelyos beg before. The sound of his voice sent a tiny ripple through my chest near my heart.

  “Get out of the way, Crelyos,” I growled.

  “I won't,” He replied stubbornly.

  Crelyos knew I would never fire on him. Part of me understood that I should have felt embarrassed and infuriated that the lumbering former soldier took advantage of my own distaste for betrayal. Most of me, the logical part of me, secretly applauded his strategy; it was another instance in which I questioned Crelyos' true tactical nature. Was he merely standing in front of my weapon as a desperate defense of his friend, or did he calculate that I would indeed never betray one of my allies? I furrowed my brows in frustration for a few seconds.

  “It doesn't matter. Even if you guys don't kill me, Sarge or Bradich will once they find out I divulged so much information. I was resolved to die as soon as the She-wolf beat me.” Raze sighed, apparently finished with his somber wails.

  I grunted softly and returned my rifle to the strap across my back. Crelyos' lips curled skyward in a grateful smile. I closed my eyes, shook my head, and spun on my heel. When I opened my eyes, even the old codger stood there with a beaming look of relief and a dopey smile. I simultaneously felt victorious and defeated. My lips parted, and in a soft hush I whispered, “Fine. Not for him, but for you. Fine. Let's just get out of here. We have a lot of road to cover.”

  “Thanks, Ihlia.” Crelyos whispered in return.

  I stepped forward only a single step. The click of my boot against the tile floor sent a chain reaction racing up and down the entirety of my battered body. My vision blurred, and the voices of those around me faded into obscurity as though someone teleported them miles away. I lifted my right hand to my face as though grabbing my eyes might stabilize my vision. I felt the world tip upside down and soon found myself staring at the ceiling; the whipping wind blew cold at my back as I fell toward the ground completely sapped of strength.

  File 19: After the Smolder

  “Ihlia!” It was the second time I heard Crelyos sharply call my name, though it sounded like a distorted echo. I anticipated the uncomfortable smack of my battered body against the cold tile; I instead felt the warmth of a body. When I looked up, the former soldier encased his left arm around my waist like a pillar of unshakable support. I remained that way for a few seconds before standing upright.

  “I'm fine,” I muttered.

  “You most certainly are not fine, young lady. Cutting those pain receptors was a terrible mistake! You have lost entirely too much blood. Panacea relies on those receptors to transfer information about wound locations, without pain your recovery nanite just has to stumble across them on its own. Good heavens, I am surprised you can even formulate thoughts let alone sentences,” Oswald scolded in the background.

  “You want me to carry you?” Crelyos inquired softly.

  “No, I said I'm fine.” I stepped away from his muscular physique and immediately felt my world spin again. As I stumbled back, my shoulder found his left arm, and the contact between his flesh and mine seemed to stabilize my world. I leaned against him and muttered, “Just let me borrow this arm for a bit.”

  “A
ffirmative,” he chuckled beneath his breath.

  Once outside the mansion, the sudden, rapid clicks of automatic weapons being primed for fire greeted us. A flood of artificial light seared our retinas and rendered us temporarily blind. The three of us hissed and tossed our hands in front of our faces as shields. In front of us, laying on the ground flat upon their stomachs, Raze's remaining minions were bound in iron chains clamped about their wrists and ankles. A solitary shadowy figure stepped forward into the illumination which I surmised to be vehicle headlights.

  “Freeze!” The shout was conjured with a half authoritative voice painfully lacking in confidence.

  “By Jove, don't shoot lads!” Oswald tossed his hands into the air; Crelyos, still supporting my unstable body, stood rigid. I was in far too poor a condition to offer anything more than a miserable groan. Raze slumped from the mansion behind us and nonchalantly tossed up his hands. As the apparent leader of the light show rushed forward, he immediately clamped Raze in bonds similar to the ones imprisoning his subordinates.

  “Hey, who are you guys?” Crelyos shouted from behind the shield of his robotic arm with which he attempted to deflect the bright beams of light.

  “I am Samson. I'm one of Loftsborough's men. We've been trying to free ourselves from Raze's captivity so we can go see our families, but he works us like slaves and promises nothing. Our little rebellion operation has been in its planning phases for almost three months. But his men grossly outnumbered us, and with his pyrokinetic abilities, we just couldn't risk it. Then when we came back tonight from our usual hyped gathering, the base was in an uproar. We heard that Raze was being attacked and most of his brigands were in the mansion, so we decided to act. Are you the ones that attacked Raze?”