Aberrant Vectors: A Cyberpunk Espionage Tale of Eldritch Horror (The Dossiers of Asset 108 Book 3)

by JM Guillen

  “I doubt you’ll simply let us pass.” I shook my head, as if I could wrest free. Linking seemed impossible, but she heard our voices, I had no doubt.

  [True enough, son of] Kanayago-kami. [I am oathed and bound. But you must know that raising your fist against me is futile. You cannot be so blind.]

  “Brought more than our fists.” Wyatt struggled with every word, but he repositioned the tangler.

  WHUF. The spike soared toward her, every bit as certain as the first. Again, at the last possible moment, the creature floated sideways, just out of reach of the spike’s blossom.

  Dismayed, I glanced down. How many stories until we hit bottom?

  [You have apparently forgotten the things that dwell in the shadows of this world, manling. Your puny bolts will never find their home in my head. No, I see your thoughts as they are born behind your heart. Before you act, all is revealed to me.]

  I caught Wyatt’s attention. When I had it, as much as I could gain with cold syrup in his mind, I mouthed two words: “She’s stalling.”

  [No.] The creature’s response came immediately, the words sweet like a tropical breeze, even as they boiled and bubbled in my head. [That implies I fear, and I do not. For I know what is to be. The simple truth is that if you choose to stand against me and mine, you will never leave this place.]

  “I’ve had… enough.” Wyatt struggled with the words, practically spitting them through gritted teeth.

  I turned to Anya, who crouched, her hands pressing tightly to the sides of her head as she trembled and jerked, fingers twitching faster than I’d ever seen them go, even mashed to her skull.

  “Yes.” I struggled to move, like pushing my way through molten rubber. I made certain Wyatt saw my eyes. Then I nodded. Whatever his play, I backed it.

  Wyatt struck one key on the Artisan’s interface and leaned the business end of the tangler against the railing, as if it were too heavy to hold.

  WHUF. WHUF, WHUF, WHUF. WHUF, WHUF. He sprayed spikes in the Seal’s foyer, scattering them about. Each burst into a wild symphony of deadly and hungry flame.

  Yet, as before, the creature drifted between the spikes as if she not only knew where he aimed, but the exact radius of the flame’s wrath.

  Her long black hair floated serenely around her, as did the frayed edges of her white blindfold. The white dress she wore rippled as if at play in a lazy stream.

  Then I triggered my penultimate dampening grenade.

  Like a blessed, radiant song, the grenade washed away all trace of the heavy, molasses darkness from my mind. The world rippled around us, and for a moment, the creature fell quiet.

  Then, I hit the button for the elevator to begin to descending again.

  I wanted a piece of this action myself.

  “You are being foolish children.” The creature spoke in delicately accented English. Her voice trickled softly, exactly as I expected it would, yet sharp too, a voice that could slice and cut.

  “Typically.” I drew my katana in one hand and my disruptor in the other. “Never stops us though. Why, we were just talking about how stupid I am.” Toggling the Adept, I leapt from the elevator, rolled, and landed with calm precision.

  The moment I hit the ground, each of the remaining flame-spouting spikes suddenly went dark, simultaneously.

  I bet I look so cool right now. I sent to Wyatt.

  “Do you come to speak for the honor of your kind?” The woman drifted closer. From this vantage, I saw that she looked impossibly old, and her wide smile revealed dozens of tiny, sharpened teeth.

  “You said we should talk.” I took one step closer but did not drop my weapons. “My friends and I need through that door. Are you going to deny us that?”

  “Honor says I must.” Her words cut like the biting wind. “My oaths are very specific, manling. I have been ordered to protect this door and slay any who seek to open it without leave. This I shall do.”

  “We have a bit of a history with impossible things and impassible doors.” Wyatt’s voice came from behind me. I heard the song of the tangler, a low whine. “What makes you so cock-fire sure?”

  “You don’t know the first taste of history, child,” the creature laughed, a raucous sound. “I slaughtered your kind when the tools of the iron-wielders were little more than sharpened flecks of metal.”

  “I don’t think you’ve ever met ‘our kind,’ not recently anyway. We have a few new toys.”

  “You bore me.” She drifted closer, one leg folded beneath her, one arm extended out from her side. “You will leave, or you will join those who died in this place.”

  “How about option three?” I aimed my disruptor squarely at her head, the Adept blindingly fast. Before she could respond, I fired.

  But…

  But fuck.

  Easy as a leaf on an autumn breeze, she drifted out of the way.

  “I told you before.” She chuckled then, a hateful, condescending sound. “I see what is written in your heart before you read the words. Every strike you make is known to me, far before you act.”

  That fucking sucks. Wyatt’s link held a hint of desperation. I don’t see a way around this one, Hoss. Even if you Spectre thorough and open the door, we’re still fighting.

  Agreed. Think you can be the front man for a second? Chat her up? I glanced at him. I have an idea.

  Wyatt never answered. Instead, he stepped off the elevator and strode up to the creature, bold as brass. He wore his rebel’s smile as he went. That grin always made me think that, one day, Wyatt Guthrie was going to go down and go down hard.

  He just might take the world with him.

  “I got a question, if you think your wisdomness can take a moment to bestow some grace.”

  “You hurled flame at me without cause and now you would question?” That wide inhuman mouth stretched further, showing even more filed ivory teeth. “What would you know?”

  “You called us ‘Children of Kanayago-kami.’ Now, what in the hell is that?”

  Rachel, if you have a moment?

  I do. Exactly one moment. How can I waste it with you, Bishop?

  I’m going to patch you my phaneric record of the last three minutes and an idea I had. Can I port to memory?

  The briefest pause came while she checked her resources. Then, Looks like it. Sounds important.

  I didn’t respond, just sent the patch.

  Jeez, Bishop. These guys don’t play softball.

  What about my idea? Is it too stupid? I teased.

  No, actually. She smiled, and I felt it down to my toes. It’s a really good one, but nothing I can handle for you.

  “Iron?” Wyatt sounded incredulous. “Are you acquainted with a substance called ‘silicon’? I’d say me and mine are closer to being children of silicon than anything.”

  Really? Confusion bled through my link. I assumed you’d be able to see all that, stored in my holotecture.

  Oh, I can. Rachel nodded. It’s accessing the cerebellum’s axial node. Completely beyond my pay scale. She paused. Do you mind if I share this patch with Designate Taylor?

  Whatever it takes.

  “So if you know that much about me and mine, what makes you think we can’t just paste your ass to the wall?” Wyatt glanced at me. I’m almost out of diplomacy here, Hoss.

  You call that diplomacy? I gave him a jeering smile. I’m almost done.

  Michael Bishop, Asset 108. Taylor’s link clicked, sterile like cold water in my mind. Asset Gardener has patched me your situation and your request.

  Yes, Designate. I watched the creature speak to Wyatt, her hands moving gracefully sideways and back. In that moment, I realized a truth that had somehow escaped me before: This thing, whatever else she might be, was bored. She yammered an awful lot for some badass gate guardian.

  I can process this for you, handle everything on our end. If that is what you wish, simply input your access code.

  Crown command: Access iota six-three.

  I turned back and glanced at m
y friend, who kept trying to cow an ancient Japanese Construct with words alone.

  Maybe we weren’t so different from the telemarketers.

  We are green, 108. On your mark.

  Understood. I strode back toward the floating woman.

  “Your spirit-helper cannot give you the strength you need.” Her infuriating leer shone at me. “Those who are already fallen whisper their secrets to me, manling. You will not open this door through any guile you possess.”

  “I had the same thought.” I brushed hair from my eyes and walked up next to where Wyatt stood. “Yet I’m afraid our way forward is clear. We must pass this door.”

  “Then your blood shall join those who have fallen. You shall evermore be one of mine.” Her leering smile faded into a grimace, and she seemed disgusted. “Pity. I thought you might be interesting.”

  “I think we still will be.”

  “I think not.” The floating oddity silently raised three fingers on her left hand, and the ground floor of the Ryuu Tower erupted with wailing, inhuman screams. The sound echoed from the darkened corners of the world.

  I do not like that. Wyatt backed up a step, his fingers poised. I do not like that at all.

  Rationality is shifting. Anya stepped closer to us, her eyes distant. Negative three point one… four point two…

  Then, like an ocean of misery and horror, the weeping horde fell upon us.

  30

  The dead came through the floor, dragging themselves up on arms emaciated and worn through to the bone. They came through the walls, shadowed reality bending around them, stretching and breaking with their dire cries of despair.

  Wailing, spectral, dun creatures came, most looking as if they had long lain rotting within the ground. Some wore the ancient, traditional gear of Japanese soldiers and samurai, but I saw at least one ragged World War Two uniform.

  Dozens. Hundreds. They continued to pour out, their eyes glowing with the light of the mad and the damned. Ten thousand terrible secrets spilled from their rotting lips, lost and forbidden things that no living man wished to remember.

  They reached for us, ravenous and insatiable.

  I told you I didn’t like the sound of that! Wyatt’s fingers punctuated his dislike with quick, precise strokes as he backed away. Several of the spikes he had already placed incandesced, brilliant violet light leaping from them, engulfing several of the wailing dead.

  They slowed, as if pushing their way into Rationality had suddenly become next to impossible.

  Patching recommended augmentations to axiomatic realmwall. Anya linked, crisp with efficiency.

  Copy that.

  A violet burst caught my eye as a different set of Wyatt’s spikes bloomed with shimmering light.

  I turned my back to it when the floating creature, serene and blissful, spoke again. “I told you who brings me my secrets. Let us see what hidden treasures they bring to you.”

  The Construct floated backward, her sharp grin once more in place.

  I’ve got Creepy. I glanced at Wyatt. Think you can keep her entourage back?

  I’ve got spikes all around. That’ll hold ’em, but I don’t know how long. Wyatt gave me a quick nod. Get it done, Hoss.

  I walked forward, rolling my neck until it popped.

  “And still you come.” Her tone mocked me. “Do you have this much faith in your spirit? Do you believe you may act where I cannot see?”

  “I can’t. I know that.” I held the katana loose in my left hand and the disruptor in my right. “But I don’t think I need to.”

  Mark, Designate.

  Roger that, 108.

  In an instant, without exerting my own will, the Adept launched me forward.

  The idea had come from the cold boot, of course. When the cold boot came, I had been on the move before I even understood what happened and took actions I didn’t comprehend.

  I relied on that principle now. The Facility had access to every move I had ever made with the Adept, every leap, every graceful slash. They also had full access to my nervous system, as proven late last night.

  The toothy bitch hadn’t said she saw the future, after all. No, she said she saw our thoughts before we acted.

  Two entirely different things.

  I could engage her without ever thinking about what I planned next, making absolutely no plans at all.

  Thanks to Designate Taylor, I took two steps toward her and had just enough time to catch a shadow of surprise on her weathered face before he prompted the Adept into a forward leap. With every bit of poetry that the packet could express, I spun and jumped, the katana whispering as it cut the air.

  The creature drifted backward, but this time with none of her usual lazy serenity. Even though I couldn’t see her shrouded eyes, I traced wariness and uncertainty in the creature’s every line.

  Almost at leisure, I contemplated what it felt like to do cartwheels, throw my weapons down and dance the Macarena. I projected all manner of random acts for the creature to see as she peered into my mind.

  “What are you—?” Her words cut off as I leapt again, the Adept sequencing my body through four different moves in a matter of seconds.

  Lunging toward her, Taylor swung twice before she darted out of range again.

  With a blinding grace I’d never managed, Taylor aimed and fired the disruptor four times. Each shot pushed the creature back, even if it did not actually strike her.

  I could get used to this, Designate. I smirked. I think you’re a better driver than I am.

  Your Crown cannot accommodate protracted periods of manual control, Asset. This activity must not last long. Taylor’s link felt somewhat distant.

  The man cycled me through a series of traditional katas, and each one brought my blade a hairsbreadth closer to the Construct.

  But his statement made me ponder. Did that mean that they had tried long periods of manual control? Had the Designates experimented with running Assets around like puppets?

  I landed in a crouch, my disruptor drawn and aimed directly ahead. As Taylor and the Adept squeezed off a few more shots, I glanced back to Wyatt and Anya.

  Things seemed to be going… okay.

  Augmenting the axiomatic realmwall made it exponentially more difficult for creatures of the astral tides to shatter their way into Rationality. That had slowed the legion to a crawl. Still, the floating woman seemed to command a literal horde of the dead, and Wyatt’s eyes were wide, his face sheened with sweat.

  They just. Kept. Coming.

  He and Anya stood back to back, his hands flying across his interface as she rapidly plunked out telemetry and patched him statistics in a steady stream reminiscent of the numeric-chanting woman at The Spire.

  Violet auras appeared and vanished as they clashed with Wyatt’s newest axioms. Wisps of mauve drifted around the pair, changing dimensions in a desperate attempt at devouring its apparent prey.

  Just before I spun back to face the Construct, one of the creatures became a touch too solid for Anya’s taste, stretching a clawed arm half a meter from her gray-clad leg.

  Stasis field axiom q3w4r139 will halt eidolonic solidification, she patched tersely.

  Before Wyatt responded, I leapt, on the move again.

  I fired, forcing the Construct to dodge erratically, causing my shots to blur around her.

  I snarled my disgust at her evasions internally. However, Taylor punched in a counter to the feint, and I swung my katana straight for the creature’s face.

  When it landed, a trickle of black, sluggish ichor bled from the creature’s cheek.

  She hovered in place, stunned.

  “You were correct, manling.” Her tone held a trace of satisfaction.

  “Yeah?” I crouched where I had landed and looked up at her.

  “You are interesting.” She flung both arms wide and spun her wrists. From some sideward, invisible space she pulled two lengthy blades—ancient tachi, notched and covered in rust and gore. “I appreciate both your style and your cho
ice in blades. It shows discipline.”

  “Very disciplined. That’s me,” I panted. Vaguely, I wondered at the care she evidently did not have for her own weaponry.

  Like a storm over the ocean, she fell upon me. She blurred, her shape shifting between singing shadows.

  I can’t even begin to recount the defense that Designate Taylor used to knock both of her blades aside as she came for me. He sliced downward, an arc with some sort of twist at the end. In all honesty, I didn’t know I had ever seen this block before, much less used it.

  My right hand had already flashed up with the disruptor, but the apparition countered that with a single strike, the flat of her blade almost casually pushing my arm aside.

  Hoss. Wyatt’s tone held a touch of warning but not true worry yet. I hope we can patch this up in a moment or two?

  Me too.

  The creature lunged at me again, and her horrifically filthy blade sliced neatly across my upper arm.

  Rachel! I knew she felt my instant horror at the thought of that rusty, gory weapon and what it might have left in my blood stream.

  On it, Bishop. No worries.

  No sooner had she linked, however, than I felt a wild itching across the surface of my legs. Mad eyes fell upon me again, that ancient, hungry gaze.

  As Designate Taylor configured the Adept to slash toward the creature’s face, pushing her back, I again felt the gathering of ancient malice, as if a predator too great for me to see prepared to pounce.

  Fuck. Wild animal panic thrummed through me. Was it the blood?

  Of course it was. I remembered the creature’s hunger, the lust in its eyes as its twining tongues traced along my flesh.

  Stop my bleeding! My raw panic sliced at my mind. Now, Rachel, please!

  Okay, okay! Confusion bled through the link. I got you.

  Thanks, Rachel, I linked as I fired, the disruptor force spread wide.

  Struck in one shoulder, the Construct spun.

  The awful sensation of being watched, of being prey, faded.

  But did not vanish.

  Michael. Anya’s link held just a touch more tension than I expected from her. We have a few concerns over here.