by JM Guillen
I’m pretty sure we were already saved, and then he let us fall further without sending a link!
Rachel saved you, really. Wyatt had a shit-eating grin on his face as Anya and I came to a rest next to him, sitting on the building as if gravity naturally moved sideways. I had settings configured before the blast, while you told me how brave you were. But I was blown further from the building than expected, and saving my own hairy ass caused some trouble. Gravity doesn’t take kindly to fiddlin’.
So our spikes failed because you set one for yourself. I see. I paused. Jerk.
Rachel cranked up my neural processor a hundred-fold. Gave me quite a bit of time to think as you fell to your deaths. He shrugged. I said she saved yer ass.
That’s right; it was Rachel! The Caduceus’ link filled with protective fury. I don’t know what shenanigans you’re getting into out there, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t splatter yourselves all over downtown Tokyo!
I officially proclaimed that this was a bad idea. I protested as I clung to the building. Panting, I tried my best to not look down at the busy streets.
You never think anything is a bad idea, Michael Bishop!
Rachel’s tirade would have gone on, but Gideon interjected, Is everything green?
We are at mission standard, Alpha. Anya’s link sounded serious, official. I will link to you the moment we encounter Stone.
Roger that, Anya. I’ll be in touch again shortly. Carry on.
Those offsite severed their links, leaving Wyatt, Anya, and I alone on the side of a skyscraper somewhere over downtown Tokyo.
I must have glared at Wyatt more noticeably than I thought, because he raised his hands up in an innocent gesture.
“I tried to get you to jump!”
“I would have jumped!” Defensively, I turned to Anya. “This whole thing happened because Evel Knievel here thought we should hold hands and jump together.”
We’re safe now, and we dropped quite a few floors in the process. Anya’s eyes turned distant. Telemetry shows no unusual readings on this floor, excepting the energy snarls we discussed earlier.
You wanna take point, Hoss? Wyatt watched the equations flit by on his oculus. While you do, I can melt our way through the glass, sure as spit, and that’ll be a lot quieter than those guns of yours.
Anya protested, But there’s no reason to do that if this level is a poor choice. She looked to me. You’ll have to make that determination, Michael.
If it’s too hot here, we might want to be somewhere else. I nodded. Smart enough. Best idea we’ve had in a few minutes, at least.
And with that, I engaged the Spectre and stepped through the glass.
When I disengaged, for the first time in what felt like forever, I stood on solid ground.
21
The window overlooked a small lounge, perhaps a break room or a place for smaller, less formal meetings. Rounded, plush couches had been positioned in cozy nooks around the room atop carpet as thick and luxurious as that upstairs. Understated art pieces hung on the tastefully painted walls.
I examined my cadre as they crouched, clinging to the window outside. Whatever their current personal gravity, with my packet active, I didn’t feel drawn to Wyatt’s spike, which made me wonder about the difficulty of such a feat.
I’ll set a spike in case we need to break through all quick-like while you scout ahead. Wyatt’s WHUF sounded oddly muted, fired from outside. Just keep in touch, Hoss.
Nodding at them both, I stepped toward the exit.
Murmurs from behind the door made me halt in place. I tried to listen, but the babble of many voices at once ensured I couldn’t make out anything. More worrisome than what they said, though, the sheer number of people saying it.
I reengaged the Spectre and poked my head through the door. I hadn’t even completely made it to the other side before I noticed the young man walking toward me.
Um. I let traces of my concern bleed through the link. We’re about to have a guest.
Need any backup, Hoss? I can either break our way in or go all ghosty, just like we did in Dhire Lith.
Hmm, Wyatt could alter the way light flowed around his spikes; so as long as he and Anya remained still, they would remain unseen. An energetically expensive process but quite effective.
I stared at a young man as he walked toward the door. He didn’t look like anything more than a young intern heading for his break, nothing obviously Irrational about him.
I do not read any unusual telemetry in that location, Michael. I will apprise you if that changes. Anya paused. Photo-homogeny will still allow us to act, if required.
I watched the man for another moment. He certainly didn’t appear threatening.
Make your little fort, Wyatt. I pulled back into the break-room, holstering my disruptor and making certain my katana hung loose in its sheath. I’ll handle this guy… and Irwin, if he shows up.
Understood, Hoss.
Irwin? Anya paused. Do you mean an Irrational target?
Yes, Anya. It’s shorthand, like how soldiers used the name ‘Charlie’ in Vietnam.
I was unaware of any official shorthand. Thank you for the update, Michael.
It’s not official. It may be just Wyatt and me.
Oh.
As I walked back toward the window, doing my best not to seem too out of place, Anya and Wyatt vanished from sight.
I only had one real chance for this to work. Obviously, Sadhana had its own private security force. Surely the young man entering the room had seen more than one oddly dressed soldier-type lately. I just had to act as if I belonged.
As the man walked in, I put on my game face.
“[Hello.]” My Crown’s translation of the man’s Japanese came instantaneously. “[Is it break time for you, too?]” The man stepped over to the far left wall where a few lockers sat unnoticed.
“For a little bit yet.” I chuckled, waving a hand. “Sorry. I can understand Japanese, but I can’t speak it well yet. I’d just embarrass myself.”
“No problem.” The man flipped to fluent English, as easily as I might toggle a packet. “I wouldn’t be good at my job if I didn’t know languages.”
“My job doesn’t require much in the way of speaking.” I smiled. “It’s much more standing about and looking menacing.”
“I bet.” He pulled a small cooler from his locker and sat at one of the couches. “Apple?” He proffered the fruit.
“I just ate,” I lied. “Besides, you brought that for yourself.”
“Ah, but tonight I can afford to be generous.” He gave me a small grin and then took a bite of the fruit. After swallowing, he continued. “I closed a contract tonight.”
“You did?” I raised my eyebrows and did my best to appear impressed. “I don’t know how you guys do it. Not my skill set.”
“I’ve been chasing this one for a while. Guy in Russia, some kind of paranormal artist. Genius stuff, according to his write-up.”
“Yeah?” I didn’t have to feign interest. In fact, my pulse pounded in my chest as I pieced together what he said.
“According to my files, Yuri Maklakov often lapses into trances.” The man waved his apple around as he spoke. “While in the trances, he scrawls incredible works of art. Shapes that have no name, colors that have never been seen.” He took another bite, then swallowed. “He can make things happen with his drawings.”
“No foolin’?” My hackles raised, but I did my best to keep cool. “So you closed the contract?”
“Oh yeah. It’s easy really. Once they see their first silent gentleman, they know how serious things are out there. They come nice and easy then.”
Silent gentleman? Obviously, he expected me to know what he spoke about, so I nodded.
“I’ve been in contact with Mr. Maklakov for over two years.” He leaned back in the chair, smiling with satisfaction. “Of course, he knew he’d have to come sooner or later—most of them do. But while visiting St. Petersburg last week he realized he was b
eing followed.” He cocked his head. “Guess who?”
“Hmm.” I frowned, my mind racing. “I think we both know the answer to that one.”
“Right.” He nodded fervently. “She stood across the plaza, just watching him. He said her fingers danced in the air like weaving invisible thread.”
I shook my head, feigning disgust. In actuality, however, my pulse grew violent in my chest and rumbled in my ears.
This entire conversation felt surreal.
“He started seeing the gentlemen then. Two of them. By the time Maklakov got through to me, he was practically rambling.”
“But you closed it. He’s safe now?”
“Oh, yes. We had operatives snatch him away just tonight. Almost as soon as we finished the call. We have a safe house not fifteen minutes from him, so I’m sure it will go down smoothly.”
The thought of a Sadhana safe house, merely fifteen minutes from their Irrational target chilled me. How many of these safe houses existed?
How long had they been in operation?
I didn’t have the time to ask any questions, however. Above the door a brilliant scarlet light suddenly shone, accompanied by an urgent, sharp tone.
“Uh-oh. Is your break over then?” The man looked at the light. “We heard something a few minutes ago on one of the upper floors. Maybe there’s trouble.”
“Um, I need to check in.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a dampening grenade, clutching it close to my head like a walkie talkie. “Would you mind giving me some privacy?”
“Oh, no problem!” The man smiled and stood. “My break’s almost over anyway.”
“Nice talking with you.” I smiled as he started toward the door.
“You as well.” He paused. “[And study your Japanese. You’ll need it here.]”
“Domo arigato.” Against all things that are right and good, I did not follow up with ‘Mr. Roboto.’
The man gave me a nod and went for the door, a bit of jaunt in his step. As he opened it, I heard a few dozen people talking and caught a glimpse of what looked to be a typical telemarketing cubicle farm…
Made all the more horrifying for its normalcy.
What was that all about? Wyatt’s link betrayed his curiosity.
I linked Gideon instead, including Wyatt and Anya. Alpha, I just had a stunningly interesting conversation. Can you receive a patch just now?
Roger, Bishop. Begin transfer.
I sent a packet to the three of them. Not porting to their memories, they had to actually peruse it, which took a moment.
That’s monstrous, Wyatt responded.
Lattice records indicate that this discussion pertains to Dossier S207-1999. Anya’s link seemed soft, almost reserved. The Assets recorded their most recent entry less than an hour ago. Their target, Yuri Maklakov, went missing just as they closed in to apprehend him.
He’s gone now. Wyatt felt surly. Fuck, Gideon, how many dangerous targets are we missing because of these assholes?
This isn’t your mission, Assets. Even as he directed us, I felt Gideon’s irritation over the link. None of us liked feeling we had been outmaneuvered. It is monstrous, but remember, your first priority is Stone.
Understood, Alpha. I paused. Just keeping you appraised.
Copy that. Then Gideon vanished from our Crowns.
I’m going to get us inside; think I’ll render this window down into sand. Vandalism out of spite. Wyatt’s link came across as offhand, conversational. If you’d like to spook your way through that door, you can keep an eye out for me.
On point. I engaged the Spectre and slipped through the room as Wyatt and Anya slowly brightened into existence behind the window. One of his spikes began to softly pulse sky-blue as he worked.
I peeked through the door and looked out onto a strange and terrible world that I had never imagined.
22
My initial impression of a cubicle farm sat square on point. The room loomed larger than I’d originally realized and would have been a typical sight in any large office building in any country on earth. Eight rows of grey cubicles, nicer than one would expect at a telemarketing firm but cubicles nonetheless, divided the room into a grid. A thick brown carpet lay on the floor, not as nice as the carpet thus far, but again, far nicer than average. On the far wall, seven separate clocks showed the time in various locations around the world.
And everywhere, people talked.
Many stood, pacing back and forth near their desks, speaking emphatically, gesturing with their hands. They wore suits with ties or nice skirts, and each did their best to present true professionalism.
A dull roar filled the entire room.
“[You don’t understand.]” I stood less than five steps from a young woman of vaguely Middle Eastern descent. She spoke German into her headset as she leaned on the side of her cubicle. “[These people don’t stop. They’ll find you, even at your family fishing lodge.]”
She paused, not quite rolling her eyes. A long moment passed as she listened.
“[Yes. You have my number. I know you think you will call. But, Mr. Eberstark, I deal with people every day who tell me that they’ll call.]”
She paused for a moment, listening to something the man said on the other end.
Then she nodded and continued, “[That’s right. But when I try and contact them later, it’s too late. They and their families are gone, taken for reeducation.]” She paused for effect. “[This is why I love my job. I get to help people. But if I let myself listen to your excuses, I’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight, Mr. Eberstark. I always worry for my clients. Won’t you consider protecting your family now?]”
I let my attention flit to the man in the cubicle next to her, almost crouching in his chair, his legs splayed wide, elbows on his knees.
He looked at the floor, his head in his hands as he spoke some dialect of Spanish into his headset. “[I’m not threatening you, Mr. Valles. I don’t have to threaten you. These men are the ones threatening you.]”
He paused, listening to the man on the other end, and nodded.
When he spoke again, he seemed to have changed his tack.
“[You know, that’s probably best. I’ve looked at my computer, and it looks as if we’ll be pulling out of Buenos Aires soon, regardless. I don’t even know how you got in this calling queue. Must be a mistake.]”
Pause.
“[Yes. Yes, that’s right. Even If I were to try to arrange you and your beautiful daughters a safe house, I don’t know—]”
He paused a long moment, a smile slowly spreading on his face.
“[I mean, it doesn’t matter anyway. You know what’s best. I can respect that. I can tell just by speaking with you that you’re a man who makes up his own mind.]”
The young man shifted in his seat, his eyes looking intently inward. He sat intent, focused, listening to what the man said, but already preparing his next salvo.
“[I run into this all the time. I had another client just like you, earlier this week, a Ms. Rodriguez. A proud lady. ]”
He paused.
“[Now, I can’t get her to pick up her phone anymore. I think it’s probably too late for her and her family.]”
He listened for a long moment, his grin growing wider. When he spoke, however, he almost seemed bored.
“[I think we both know it’s not worth your time today, Mr. Valles. It looks as if our pull-out date is coming up at the end of the month, so you can rest assured I won’t be troubling—]”
He stopped in mid-sentence, as if cut off while speaking.
“[Right. Buenos Aires is too hot for us right now. We have other clients to see to and what with all the increased surveillance in the city—]”
In no way did he seem to mind being cut off a second time.
“[Weeeeell.]” He paused, sounding extremely uncertain. “[I can look, if that’s what you want. But I doubt there’s anything left.]”
He paused again and stood.
A slow smile spread ac
ross his face. “[Alright, but only if you’re serious. My boss will have my hide if you’re messing with me.]”
Then the man reached to the side of his cubicle and rang a fucking bell.
A prim, dark-haired woman who had been pacing down the aisle listening to various conversations hurried over to him, moving faster than she probably should on her high heels.
“[This is Mr. Valles.]” The young man had switched to Japanese but spoke in a hushed tone to the woman, his hand over his mike. “[Two daughters, Buenos Aires. We are pulling out at the end of the month and may not have a place for them. He speaks Spanish.]”
“[Understood.]” The woman responded in Spanish. “[Good work], Caleb.” She took the headset.
I stood, stunned with horror.
By this point in my career with the Facility, I had seen some pretty dark and demented things. I had taken part in a dossier in the Yucatan that ended with madness and the slaughter of most of my cadre. I had been to far-flung realms and had aberrant tentacle monsters inhabit my body.
Once I had even eaten Wyatt’s cooking.
However, with everything I’d seen, nothing had prepared me for the monstrous normalcy of this place. These people simply did their jobs, supporting a business, as billions of people did for businesses all across the world, each and every day.
Oh, except that they threatened civilization as we knew it.
Their business harbored mad fugitives, people who, if left unchecked, could threaten the axiomatic realmwall of Rationality. These telemarketers made their living by actively attempting to bring the ruination of the entire world.
It all seemed so casual. This didn’t seem like anything special to them; it wasn’t the grand crescendo of some vast scheme.
No. To them, it was a Wednesday.
Hoss, we’re in.
Understood. I pulled my head back through the door and turned to face my cadre.
Didn’t turn it to sand. Wyatt seemed like a giddy schoolboy. Realized that would leave a big ol’ hole, and someone might ask questions about the Assets who exploded out the window.