by KT Belt
“Beat it,” he said to no sorten in particular, but they all got the message. They ran out of the room like rabbits, sparing not even a glance back.
Inertia got to work. The download of all the sorten data to The Lady was the first step. Despite that, his face was grim. He had hoped Charon would be with Caelus, maybe as one last line of defense for the scientist. Inertia wasn’t sure how he’d match against him. At this point, it didn’t really matter. Capturing or killing Charon was a mission objective, but he had no idea where he’d slunk off to. Compared to securing the data from Solitary’s computers, it wasn’t worth finding out. But just then, he thought of another Clairvoyant who perhaps wasn’t as lost to him as he feared. He could only think of one thing he could do for her.
Gaining access to Solitary’s intercom system was simple, as was his message. He just hoped Edge was still alive to heed it.
22
Nightmares
Something happened. Carmen still lay comfortably in the med bay, but there was now a pinprick on her consciousness that itched like a mosquito bite. The sensation was a Clairvoyant’s closest companion. She sat up and glanced around the room like an inquisitive cat. Nothing was readily different. The doctors and scientists still studied the Clairvoyant Constructs that lay dead all around her, and the beeps and hums of various life support and medical equipment saved the room from the silence it otherwise would have been filled with. She frowned. Closest companion or not, those pinpricks were never very forthright.
She leaned back and sighed. No one had said anything about how long she’d have to stay here, and the mounting boredom made her mind drift. The whirlwind of the last day was hard to put into focus. Her body still ached. She looked at the burnt mess that was her arm and then hesitantly touched the burnt side of her face. Both acts produced no emotion. But just then, she thought back to Rauon and felt decidedly cold.
She’d had few friends in her life. Probably most Clairvoyants would say the same. She wasn’t completely sure what the word even meant when truly put into action. She thought of Kali. She’d been her handler, and despite how close they were and despite that Kali held no real responsibility toward her former charge now, their relationship remained as a shadow of what it had once been. It was the same with her and Phaethon, except in reverse. She guessed Artemis was a friend in some sort of way. She had no idea if Artemis was even alive, though.
And Inertia? She couldn’t really say. Friends? Not really. She didn’t even know his real name. Acquaintances? They were certainly more than that. He said they were partners, but that description didn’t feel right either. She thought about him further and then rolled her eyes. She had no idea what they were.
Nor, so it seemed, did she have any answer as to whether she was actually friends with Rauon. They were completely different with unrelated backgrounds, but he came closer than anyone to what she would call a friend. She trusted him, as crazy as that was in this place. There were even times that the feeling seemed mutual. Yes, she terrified the sorten, but that fear was a mere byproduct of what she was.
Clairvoyants were terrifying, almost on an instinctual level. They could crush you in an instant. They seemed to know everything about you, even your deepest, darkest secrets. And their whims changed just as quickly as the currents of a typhoon. She wasn’t like that, of course—she’d never been like that. She thought back, however, to how Rauon had looked at her earlier today. “I fear there is more about you than I first assumed,” he had said. She considered his reaction and her mission and then swallowed hard.
The conclusion of her current course was inevitable; it had been from the start. Despite a small part of her that protested, she ultimately knew why she was here. She looked slowly around the room with the gnawing realization that every sorten here would die, probably from her hand. If Rauon were present, it wouldn’t change matters. It was foolish for her to think they were or could ever be friends.
Just then, there was another stirring of her Clairvoyant intuition. She sat up quickly and panned her head around the room once again. She saw nothing of note, which made her narrow her eyes. She turned to one of the scientists.
“Excuse me,” she asked. “Is something going on?”
The sorten gave her an annoyed look and continued his work without reply. Carmen pointedly rolled her eyes and took a deep breath but made no further comment. She did, however, notice the lights flickering. She looked at them curiously. She’d had more battles in Solitary than she cared to recall, and it was quite rare if the lights flickered during any of them. Before she could ponder what that meant, though, she became aware that someone was coming.
In fact, they were rapidly approaching, and it seemed like there were two of them. It had to be Clairvoyant Constructs. The sheer purpose, directness, and efficiency that currently soaked every aspect of their being was a match for any of her kin. If they were set before them, the Constructs would crash through boulders without even realizing it. Yet, that was all that they were: a machined tool that was just as unwavering as a hammer hovering over a nail. Carmen was sick of even being near them at this point. She was quick to note, however, that it was just Clairvoyant Constructs coming. They had no sorten escort. Odd, she thought. The sortens, until this point, seem so distrustful of Clairvoyants that they wouldn’t even let their tools wander around without some sort of leash.
She could hear them now. As she stared at the door, their steps were like a countdown to their arrival. Constructs could have feelings—these did—but they were difficult to fully read, like music created on a synthesizer by a baby. There was only one thing she could really discern from these Clairvoyant Constructs: intention. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her nervous.
She looked around the room hurriedly. The sorten doctors and scientists, however, carried on with their work, either unaware or unconcerned. Carmen tried her best to remain undaunted too. Her conscious mind produced several reassuring trifles that clouded the truth. While she consoled herself, her breath shortened, her heartbeat quickened, and her pupils dilated.
The door burst open so quickly that it was like an explosion. Several of the sortens screamed in surprise. The Constructs rushed in and locked eyes with Carmen. It only lasted a second or so—that instant in which no one was able to make a move—but it was the single greatest moment of clarity she had ever experienced. They were here to kill her. And she wasn’t in the best condition to respond to the threat.
A thought sent the bed she had been lying on rushing at her attackers like a battering ram. Both Constructs dodged out of the way, and Carmen, after hovering in place for a moment, stood on unsteady feet. The pain shooting up her spine made the room spin even faster. She was acutely aware that she wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. All the same, she was unprepared for just how far gone she was. In her current state, Carmen was little match against a glass of warm milk. She only just managed to raise her guard before they were upon her.
She groaned loudly as her burnt arm shielded her from a blow. It was enough of a distraction that she didn’t see the follow-up punch coming. If the room spun before, now it gyrated and quaked as another hit sent her crashing into one of the many occupied beds. The half-dissected Construct landed next to her, coating her face and body with his blood. More screams filled the room. Medical equipment and diagnostic machines tumbled to the ground as the sortens rushed madly to get out.
Carmen paid attention to none of it. She was too busy scurrying away over dead bodies, equipment, and even people when they tripped over her. The Constructs pursued, telekinetically vaulting the mess out of the way. The frenzied chaos was such that she only dimly registered that she was against the wall. Over and over again her legs kicked out in front of her, only to propel her nowhere. Her predicament finally became clear after about the fifth time she felt the solid mass behind her.
She gave a defiant scream, raised both of her hands, and fired a heat beam from each with everything she had. The searing white light was l
ike a great hammer crumbling the ceiling on the opposite side of the room. Clothing spontaneously combusted. An unlucky scientist lost the top of his head. The Clairvoyant Constructs, however, were able to avoid the attack. Carmen’s spirits drop a touch upon seeing them unharmed. One reached out and grabbed her by the hair above her forehead. The interplay of their energy was a grand display of sparks and noise, and she screamed again from the pain of their bioelectric fields clashing. For the Construct, though, the effort was worth it as he rained blows down upon his now immobile victim.
As she struggled against his grip, the first punch hit like a tidal wave. The second sent a river of blood and spittle across the room. The third made her body tremble and her grip slacken, but the wherewithal to act remained. Her moment came in a flash. Almost by instinct, Carmen was able to just move her head out of the way at the last second. The Construct’s fist impacted the wall with the dull thud and crack of meat and bones breaking. It was enough of a distraction for the Construct that she was able to free herself and roll away.
She came to her feet then, breathing hard. The two Clairvoyant Constructs turned to face her. By this point, the room was empty of all living souls, save for the combatants. She well knew that, if she were fully recovered, this contest would have been over almost as soon as it began. She wasn’t sure she could beat them in her present state, though, which got her mind working. Unfortunately, they started their attack again with a feint, stealing her small window of opportunity to ponder.
The feint did exactly what it was supposed to do and moved her out of position so she’d be vulnerable for the real attack. She managed to duck out of the way, even though she didn’t really see it coming. A counterpunch held them in place long enough for her to dash to the relative safety of the other side of the room. And there they stood, ready to start all over again, yet again.
She took a deep breath. As before, one of them attacked before the other. This time, though, she spoiled the assault by telekinetically flinging one of the corpses strewn about the room directly at her aggressor. The second Clairvoyant Construct launched his assault by leaping at her while his comrade staggered. Carmen saw him coming this time. She fell to the ground underneath him, her hand rising to shoot a heat beam straight through his body. A telekinetic thrust bounced her back to her feet as soon as she hit the ground. The remaining Clairvoyant Construct, however, kicked her legs out from under her, and she crashed to the ground again. When she rolled back to her feet, they exchanged blows, which she didn’t get the better of.
A particularly hard hit sent her reeling into the nearest wall. She only had enough time to look at him before she was attacked again. She couldn’t think and felt strangely disconnected from her body. It responded aptly, if a touch too slow. She just couldn’t come up with any response against such overwhelming force. At last, she simply screamed and headbutted the Construct in the face.
He fell back, cradling his injury. Carmen was able to hold her surprise long enough to take the opportunity given to her, and a clean punch knocked him to the ground. She raised her hand and produced in front of her a smoldering hole, out of which stuck the Construct’s arms and legs.
Carmen dropped to the ground after that, utterly spent. It was only then that she finally noticed she was covered in blood. Most of it wasn’t hers—the vast majority belonged to the dead Constructs the sortens had been studying. She telekinetically removed the mess. The same couldn’t be done for her own blood, though. She breathed hard and was too tired to move, so a thought telekinetically retrieved some nearby gauze. It was convenient that she was already in the medical bay.
When she was done wrapping her wounds, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She was practically panting. Sweat beaded all over her body. She barely had the energy to move. Yet all these things were mere diversions as Carmen tried to figure out what her next step should be.
Her eyes shot open. “Phaethon,” she said to herself.
She stood as fast as she could, groaning as she did so, and steadied her wobbly legs by resting a hand on the nearby wall. For now, she had to trust that Inertia could take care of himself. But Phaethon…she had to find him. If only she knew where to look. In that moment, the room darkened, red lights flashed, and a loud alarm sounded. She didn’t know what exactly that meant, but it couldn’t be a good thing.
With no idea of where to go, she stepped out of the room. She could hear several sorten security squads approaching. She didn’t simply hear them, though; the noise thundered down the corridor, seemingly shaking the whole of Solitary. It sounded more stampede than security contingent. She hesitated. Clairvoyants were terrible and destructive creatures. Any school kid knew that. Even so, in her present state, reputation and reality were not one and the same. For one long second, she considered challenging the sorten horde. Then she thought better of it and set off in the opposite direction, not knowing whether it was putting her closer or farther from her destination.
The problem of destination sent her thoughts running just as fast as her legs were carrying her. Phaethon wasn’t as injured as she was. Inertia had said he hadn’t been brought to the med bay. Where would he be? Where would the sortens hold him? she thought over and over. Her mind was focused, ready, and tense. When she disappeared through one of the hidden hatches, however, she promptly collapsed. Outright panting, her throat was raw. Her will remained undaunted, but her body was failing her. She didn’t know why, but it seemed like she was running out of time.
Where would they hold him? Carmen thought frantically while she regained herself. Solitary was as much a maze as it was a dungeon. In fact, the purposes of both seemed to intersect and blend together. Where is he? she thought again as she existed deep in the dark hell of Solitary.
The sortens drew closer, and she began running again. She wondered if she’d be able to sense Phaethon. She was quick to remind herself, however, that she hadn’t even known he was at Solitary until yesterday. The entire facility seemed hardened against Clairvoyants. Her best and only guess was that, since her former charge wasn’t in the med bay, he might be wherever his living quarters were. Her only point of reference were her own living quarters, which were unfortunately not on this floor, and she didn’t know exactly where the elevator was.
Her legs burned from their futile effort to speed her to safety. She was well aware that, by this point, she was only reacting to what was happening. That would get her killed. There had to be some way, somehow, to get off this floor. She scanned the corridor, hoping for a hidden hatch or elevator that could avail her or at least let her escape, if only momentarily. Then, all at once, she stopped in place as an idea took hold. The sortens chasing her had to be coming from somewhere. She doubted they’d garrisoned their security near the med bay. That seemed a bit pointless, since all the Clairvoyants were already dead by the time security got there.
The sorten pursuit was bearing down on her. It sounded like an army. Carmen took a deep breath and committed herself to the one and only option she could think of. The stupidly obvious simplicity of the plan was its chief virtue. She’d make herself invisible. She’d never done it before. She’d never felt the need. But she remembered assets turning invisible at parties back at the facility all the time. The idea wasn’t so farfetched. The various energies of the universe already bent to her will. Why wouldn’t light? The only issue was she had no idea how it was done. But her mind went back to her time at the facility, to a room full of sand. The knowledge of how to complete her task had escaped her then, just as it did now.
She closed her eyes as she had countless times before in her life and let the Dark take her. As always, it remained a part of her, despite how much she pretended otherwise. She was consumed by a sudden calm. Action, reaction, will, and force all existed on the same plane. Carmen opened her eyes and was taken aback. The world was presented before her in a wild array of color. At first, the image made her dizzy. Everything appeared in a splattered mosaic, like she was viewing the remains
of a box of crayons dropped in a blender. The sight made her think, for a moment, that the sortens had used some sort of neurological weapon against her. However, hard as it was to see, she could just make out the security running toward her, and they seemed unconcerned that they were nearing a monster of the Dark. The lead sortens even ran right past her without missing a beat. But then the group slid to a stop—with her in the center of the mass.
She stood still. A sorten in the middle moved slowly in small circles. He had some kind of scanner in his hands.
“I don’t understand it. She should be right here,” he said.
“Perhaps your scanner is broken? Clairvoyants don’t just disappear,” another said.
“Actually, they can,” a different sorten remarked.
They looked hesitantly amongst each other for a moment.
“Spread out. Find her. If you see anything suspicious, clear your line of fire and shoot it,” the security leader ordered.
Carmen couldn’t help but swallow hard and exhale sharply upon hearing that. It was precisely the wrong thing to do. The closest security member to her looked at her with a snap. He didn’t see her, as his guns weren’t yet blazing, but he did take a step closer. The sortens were mostly on all fours and came to just above her waist. This one moved closer while his comrades checked just as carefully in the other directions. He was now close enough that simply sticking out his tongue would have bridged the gap.
She took a small, nearly imperceptible step back. The sorten stiffened, stealing her breath away. He must have seen some disturbance in the air from her movement. He aimed his weapon right at her chest, though whether he knew that was unclear. She had to do something, but she didn’t know what. Then an idea came from one of the most unlikely of places.