Anatali: Ragnarok

by A. C. Edwards

  A duo of doors slid open—shink-shink. Trent stood wet, nude, towel unwrapped but held at his waist. Dillon was more in a sleepy stumble, gripping an upturned lamp.

  Don’t ever ignore me.

  She pinned Calvin to the floor, him still inside her, quite certain they could see his feet. Jessica narrowed her eyes, feeling a bit sluggish herself. “You boys want some too?”

  Trent bent to lift his brother’s abandoned poker. He dropped his towel and double-gripped the weapon. He snapped forward with a roar, his face contorted with inhuman rage. Jessica scrambled behind the island, looking for something, anything. By the time Calvin was on his feet, Trent slammed the poker down. Countertop splinters whizzed over her head.

  “Stop it!” She shouted for Nicky. She heard him tick and rumble in the front hall. The hell was he doing?

  Calvin caught the poker on its back swing and switched the momentum to crack Trent’s chin with the solid-knob handle. The younger brother shoved: stronger and with a better grip, Calvin ripped the poker free. Trent found a kitchen knife. The brothers squared off.

  Unreal. Impossible. Fucking insane.

  Jessica retreated to the front hall where the sound of slurping and tearing competed with weak whimpers. She looked for her rifle—it was gone. She slowly turned to the sound, feeling the blood drain from her face. Bile rose up her throat.

  Ayla lay on her side, a blood pool staining white fur to red. Kahn’s tail switched, his muzzle deep into her friend. Her eyes were open, glassy, mouth twitching with every weak breath. Above them stood a tall man with talon-like hands. His long, black hair spilled over his antiquated uniform and hung over blue eyes. From behind his back he effortlessly hefted a FireBot’s axe, nearly as tall as he was. “N-Nicky?”

  In a split-second blur, the axe splattered both animals across the hallway wall. She screamed and ran back into the living area just in time to see Trent’s head cave under the poker. Eyes black, Calvin cursed at her before falling to his knees, blood gushing from his thigh. Behind him, a dark-skinned Avci Agiz flipped a dagger in her hand. Without pause, she sliced an ear-to-ear gash across his neck.

  Jessica didn’t want to see anymore. She wanted to wake up.

  Nicky rounded the corner and flung his axe. End over end, it popped the assassin in a balloon burst of crimson. Dillon ran to her side, eyes clear, fists raised and glowing red. Nicky pressed together his fingers with thumbs, melding his talons together in twin black blades.

  Amidst the front hall’s carnage, she saw a dark hollow against the door. No color, no depth, only an absence. It whispered to her, not a voice, but a feeling. From it, a word:

  Blue.

  She stumbled away as the men collided and merged, swirling first in colors, then into a gray fog. The apartment dimmed and faded until only a black expanse, the swirling mist, and the presence remained. She felt it move, felt the fog change somehow. It coalesced, forming a solid blacker-than-black globe. It began to glow, pale blue, and its light defined shape, first surrounded by the figure of a boy, then casting accent and relief on a bedroom. Jacob’s room. Ghostly and monotone, only she and the globe seemed real.

  “Jessie…”

  “J-Jake. Is it you?” She didn’t know whether to feel terrified or jubilant. Jessica finally recognized the nightmare for what it was, though the terror of it still gripped her mind. Lucid, if a little drunk, the dream was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  “Jessie…” Ok, he was a chain’s rattle away from channeling cliché. She focused her thoughts against the fear and into anger, onto the boy himself.

  “Can you hear me, or are you just some fucking figment?”

  The ball warbled, and with a hollow snap, the ghost became opaque. Jacob, head to toe, eyes and all. “I can hear you. I asked you a question.”

  “I-I didn’t hear it.”

  “Why do this to me? What did I ever do to you?” Forlorn, honest, and five-by-five clear. Her heart damn near shattered.

  “W-Wh—”

  “Calling me here. Seeing you like…that. Like mom,” he said.

  Was that all him? And the violence after? This wasn't real.

  “Yes. Your fears. Your shame.”

  “I didn’t call—I’ve been calling. Oh, goddamn!” She looked about his transparent room, wanting to run, wanting to hold him.

  “Why don’t you?” He raised his arms, expression neither warm nor hating. Jessica stepped back in reflex. “What, scared of me too? Wake up.”

  Oh, how she wanted to. She set her feet and swallowed. “Come back to me. Just leave those girls and come back.”

  “I have been coming back, all along, you just keep running. This is your fault. I’ll be coming again. Don’t run this time.”

  “I don’t think I can anymore. Are you—?”

  “Jessie, The blue eye will betray you.” His voice trailed off, as did the light. His body, the room, the globe faded, leaving her in darkness. “Make sure you’re ready.”

  “Jake? Jacob!”

  ~ 50 ~

  Fortuna Nicolosi

  December 1, 4124 — 4:13 AM

  Jessica’s eyes fluttered open, her skin bathed in sweat. On the mattress Ayla snored at her feet, and Dillon curled his back to her side, facing the wall. Kahn mimicked the dog’s position on the floor, but raised his head the moment she turned hers.

  Was the bastard going to eat her friend? Fuck, they’d been asleep for god-knows how long and he appeared, as always, on guard and compliant. She reached a hand for his face, pushing back the lingering memories of her dream. His fur was soft, cool, soothing. He opened his mouth to pant as she scratched under his chin—a dog, not a tiger.

  Ayla deserved some rest. She’d been treated more indignantly than Jessica, especially in the last day, more cargo than depended on. Still, she depended on the runt, even if no other god in the city did. Her friendship was first; her voice was first, her life was first. As much as the dog lived to protect her, Jessica lived to see her friend run free in some sunny-fucking-field safe from fireballs and undead hordes. Captivity was not an option—death, even less so.

  And while she’d always been Jessica’s jogging buddy, Ayla was Jacob’s dog when it came down to it. They spent every indoor night and day together from their father’s introduction six years ago, up to that final breakfast three days ago. She’d lost as much as Jessica had, and with less promise for a better future. Dog spelled backwards equaled the obvious—she might be the best living soul in Nome.

  Jessica slid from the mattress. The floor was cold as hell while the air was heavy with musk and pumped-in heat. Panties, sports bra, repeat with her dog snapping awake and sniffing the air. She probably had to pee. That made two of them. A large, empty water bottle stood in the corner with a power-lifter’s fluid funnel set inside. Classy. The awkward stance set her sore legs ablaze. Her eyes were set on Dillon, the sheet at his hips framing those dimples just above his butt.

  For whatever he was to her, or might become, that was every bit as good as she’d ever hoped. Now she just hoped she’d survive the morning to get it again. Jessica resisted the urge to climb back into bed, wiped with her panties, and tossed them aside. She was already barefoot. She’d take chill breezes up her pants over three-day-old cotton.

  Half-dressed, she slung Bunny across her back and crept across the room. She needed a moment alone—rather, a moment away from him. She cracked the door, letting Ayla and Kahn shoulder past. She slipped through and closed it with a tick behind her. Eyes adjusting to dim shadows, she glanced up to see a blazing blue crescent hovering just overhead. She yelped and stumbled back. A black snake whirred by—and caught her before she hit the door.

  “Careful, Valkyrie,” Nicky’s voice. A whisper? That was a new trick. “It would be best to let him rest.”

  “No shit. How long have you been standing here?” The damn dream had her jumpy, or maybe that was Dillon’s fault.

  “Since you retired.”

  “So you know what happene
d.”

  “Yes. It is your own business. But while I trust Ehwaz as our alarm, I’m not so trusting among strangers.” He rolled away, his visor a guide in the dark. “Save my kin, I find some of these Aesir unsettling.”

  “What do you mean? Those kids have their shit together, and that Shrine lady was…wasn’t much help at all, actually. Never mind. Any port in a storm.”

  “If not for the cold, I would take you from here,” Nicky said, uncommonly cryptic on the details. Wait, what did Jacob say? The blue eye will betray you. She’d thought it was a warning or head game about Dillon. She shifted Bunny to her side, knowing he could read her vitals, but hoping she’d learned enough to play it off as anxiety. “If we must simply survive until noon, I would have us run and run, not wait to be attacked.”

  “But they want Dillon, they’re tracking him, the vanners if not the feds, and those girls aren't going to stop at noon. We could use a fighting chance rather than getting caught in the open—like with Dolores.” Jessica actually missed the bitchy bot, her blades for sure. “Don’t take matters into your own hands. We’re a team, no, we're closer than that now.”

  In her dream, the dark soldier had put Ayla out of her misery, killed Christy, and challenged Dillon; who had hurt no one. Still, if these men were at odds about who would be her knight—and one was to betray her—

  “Hey, in The Spire, when Calvin and Trent…how long was I out, again?” She pushed back the lingering guilt of whose memory she betrayed tonight, either brother, maybe both, and considered what a lying robot might sound like.

  “Fifty seconds, an approximation including semi-consciousness. What brings this up?”

  Keep it to herself? No. She needed to hear it out loud. “What if those fifty seconds were really fifteen minutes? There’s a dozen ways it could have went down. Maybe the SamuBots were just for show. I get knocked out and Christy kills the brothers before Trent can unlock the Umbrella on his own. You help her dispose of the bodies and come back to revive me before Ayla dies.”

  Nicky slowed to a stop on the main receiving floor: a perfect arena. “Or?”

  “Or maybe Dillon went supernova and killed them,” Jessica brought Bunny to her hip, muzzle still down. “But since you and Christy were in cahoots, you helped cover it up, an ‘unexplained tragedy.’ You let Shannon loose as an excuse to cripple the comm-network so when Sol-Union control reverts to Anatali, there will be no survivors, and no way to spill the true story. Sure, Anatali might release their own spin, but Shannon would have made it messy. He would have told the total truth about the reactor.”

  Nicky swiveled a one-eighty. His tentacles twitched, but remained tight. “And since this is all about you and Volundr?”

  “Is that Dillon’s name now? We’ve just been pawns to draw Shannon out and keep him quiet. He was the king piece and wild card at the same time. Now that he’s silenced, you round up the best specimens and make off before any harm comes to the dark-energy propaganda machine. It’s all about making it believable to us, so when you open the back door and the feds come storming it, we’ll be too shocked to fight back.”

  “And what of the sacrifices we Sevens have made? Marco, Sven, Dolores?” he said. Ayla seemed to pick up on the tension, returning from downed crates to Jessica's side. The dog’s eyes never settled on Nicky, they searched the shadows for some other threat.

  “Those two guys didn’t know the vanners would be so badass. Dolores? She’s probably still alive, hanging out with Christy and that Carmichael motherfucker.” Jessica smirked, activating the weapon in a whir. “Smart move, leaving her behind as the executioner. I’d never expect it.”

  “So how did you figure all this out, Valkyrie?” His tone was even, slow, emotionless.

  “Is it true?” Jessica raised her voice. It echoed close. He didn’t respond. She raised the rifle and shouted, “I said is it fucking true?”

  Nicky slowly unfurled one tentacle. She stepped back, cursing Bunny. The little bastard wouldn’t recognize him as a target. The FireBot clasped his helmet and removed it. He bent forward at the waist, offering his crystal brain. “If you believe it so, destroy me now.”

  “More game. You’ve kept the entire thing going off my trust.” Bunny puffed up his image, obscuring the entire screen. With a button, she disabled targeting and aimed manual.

  “If true, I would expect to live and die by it.” Nicky’s voice was calm. He stayed still as a statue.

  Jessica counted down from five…four…three…she dropped her hand from the trigger and let Bunny swing loose at her side. She started giggling, then laughed. Ayla scampered in a circle before jumping her paws to pants. “Whew. Fuck me. I was even starting to believe it.”

  “Satisfied? A rather convoluted conspiracy, the way you tell it.” Nicky straightened up and replaced his helmet. “There is much you have not seen and many conversations you have not heard. How do you know that an EMP disabled the comm network? You don’t. We told you that. The four-day limit on federal quarantine? We told you. You have, and still, take much on the word of Artificial Intelligence.”

  “Uh, you’re not really helping.” She raised an eyebrow, but not her weapon.

  “To ease your mind once and for all, I would ask you: if we are programmed to deceive you, then betray you, would we not weaken you? Beforehand, you knew bare specifics of my kind. An easy thing to move slower, swing softer, keep you cold, hungry, injured, fatigued and within the depths of despair. With a simple lie I could have claimed Dvoraks at every respite, left your wolves behind, and taken your arm with a misplaced swing. A simple sabotage would have those in this warehouse huddled around that fire pit for warmth. And if a door were to be opened for federal black ops, it would have been now, tonight, with the cover of snowfall and an excuse to feel safe until morning. We would not offer you hope. We would exploit your trust and desperation to suggest surrender, claiming no experiments and a free, comfortable life away from the hell we constantly reinforced.”

  “Fair enough.” She traced a finger around his belly and climbed on his box. “I’m glad we had this chat.”

  “And I too.” He rolled away from Shrine and the refugees’ end of the warehouse. “I believe you trust me, I am presumptuous to say I know it, but I would not have you second-guessing yourself for the things you do not know—the stageplay’s length of intricacies I have not time to explain.”

  “After we escape little Nome,” Jessica said, cooling her back against his balloon. Ayla and Kahn followed in a stroll, yipping and snapping at each other. Happy animals: a good omen for any morning.

  “After we survive the Ragnarok.”

  ~ 51 ~

  Ragnarok

  December 1, 4124 — 5:01 AM

  For a morning drive, there wasn’t much to see. Sharks in an aquarium, tigers in a cage—right, Kahn? Towards the south end, it was just as noisy without the generator’s thrum. The Dvoraks outside were still worked up, these beating their heads against the walls or some such. They probably envied the warmth inside as much as wanting a hot meal.

  An empty metal hopper stood next to a crushed produce skid. She tossed a pine plank into the bin and nodded to the bot. A minute later, Bunny squirted a thin line, starting a black-pillared blaze from the loaded pile of debris. Nicky answered the far-off strobe of another FireBot and settled on his treads. All in silence.

  This was her core, the only beings in Nome she truly trusted and depended on. Her brother’s dog, a tiger’s corpse, a cartoon rabbit, and a talking water balloon. Even with the brothers, Dillon, Christy, Shannon, and their small armies of bots and refugees, she had always relied on these four when push came to shove, and not one was human. She couldn’t guess what that said about her or her species. It just felt good to be alone with them one more time.

  Hopefully, not for the last time.

  “When do the fireworks start?” Jessica lit a cigarette off a smoldering stake.

  “Soon. After sunrise, perhaps six-thirty if not later.”

 
; “Seven hours from freedom, with nothing to do but wait.” She exhaled a cloud and showed her palms to the fire. Nothing to do but— “Hey. I told you my bullshit ‘what if’ scenario. If this could be our last morning, I want to hear that Ragnarok I’m such a part of.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She leaned against the hopper, stirring the pile to a corner. “Yeah, but don’t ramble on. Give me the summary, I’ll ask for details if I need them.”

  Nicky rested an arm on the ground, blowing hot air on Jessica’s feet and the dog sitting beside her. Like he’d said, it was the details, the extra consideration that made her trust him, and not fear him as some conspiracy pawn.

  “Verdandi was a notable goddess in Asgard for her many duties and strong alliances with the noble Aesir. A Norn, she was one of three goddesses entrusted with weaving the Tapestry of Fate. While her two sisters maintained the past and future, her focus was the present, of all things in their current state. She bridged ‘what was’ with ‘what will be,’ the flux between all beginnings and ends. Including the lives of men and gods.

  “Near omniscient of the transition of lives, she and her wolves would patrol battlefields searching for the souls of dead warriors destined to train in Valhalla. Those Einherjar would join the Aesir during the Ragnarok, the final battle between all opposing forces under Yggdrasil. Thus, as a Valkyrie, she was praised highly by Odin and the other Aesir for her infallible judge of strength and virtue—”

  “Does the story start sometime?” she said, biting back an even snarkier comment.

  “Yes. At the beginning of Fortuna’s masterpiece, we find Verdandi and her sisters at Yggdrasil’s roots untangling a knot. Such flaws are impossible in the Tapestry of Fate. Deeply troubled, the youngest sister, Skuld, discovers the offending thread, a Midgard prince, Volundr. He had been destined to precede his father in death and become an Einherjar, but within the knot his father’s thread had been severed instead. The knot tugs on a vast number of fates, each deforming the next, on and on, until it reaches the gods, and on through Ragnarok itself. The present becomes uncertain, and the future unknowable.