El Finito Book 1

by M. E. Thorne

  My hands shaking slightly, I handed the envelopes over to Spinny. She nodded, checked them herself, then gave them to Gnasher, who promptly turned and disappeared.

  The bat-siblings gave us a curious look.

  Spinny answered. “There’s no need to take them with us. Gnasher will put them somewhere safe and then meet up with us later.”

  “Let’s go then,” I said.

  We walked to the elevators that ran down to the agricultural district. Neither Spinny nor I had our tablets, we couldn’t risk the State tracking our movements. Unfortunately, that meant we wouldn’t be able to use public transportation since they all required IDs to board.

  “I got this,” Gloria said as we approached the State soldiers guarding the elevators.

  She flashed some paperwork to them, which they accepted without comment. We boarded without issue.

  “It’s good to have connections,” she snickered.

  “Let them know to let Gnasher through when she comes this way,” I suggested. “It’ll make it easier for her to catch up.”

  The agricultural district provided a majority of the food used by the people who lived in and around the Metrocomplex. It was housed in an almost indescribably huge space. The elevators ran down a shaft that deposited us in the center of the room. Stepping outside, I could not see any of the walls or the ceiling. The floor was hard-packed, brown dirt.

  “The room is so large, it has a weather system,” I supplied. “Supposedly it was used as some kind of outdoor simulation area where the corporations would run demos of their latest technological marvels and super-weapons.”

  I was shocked when the neighboring elevator opened, and a group of hazmat-wearing Syndicate members got out. They strode right past the State soldiers and piled into a nearby truck, which spun off as soon as the rear gate had closed.

  “What the hell are they doing down here?” I felt uneasy.

  Terraced farms rose around us, hundreds stacked one atop another. Most were focused on hydroponics, growing crops like lettuce, peppers, and tomatoes. Further back, in adjacent tunnels, I knew there would be farms where mushrooms and cave fruit were cultivated.

  The terraces were laid out in a grid pattern. Lighting rigs and water pipes ran in thick lattices overhead. Members of the Growers’ Guild swung along catwalks and access gangways, busily tending the plants.

  I was familiar with the area from my time as a builder, and Gloria had her map, so we made good time. Nobody paid us any mind.

  We were just at the outskirts of the mole ranches when Gnasher caught up with us.

  “A-Okay!” she laughed when Spinny asked how things had gone. “I’m glad I caught you now. We can see the moles together. I love them, they’re so cute and fluffy.”

  “And tasty,” I reminded her.

  She happily licked her lips. “That’s the best part!”

  Moles and rats were the primary livestock raised for meat by the Growers’ Guild. Cave goats were also kept, but as far as I knew they were raised only for their milk.

  The moles were kept in vast concrete tanks that had been filled in with soil so they could dig tunnels and burrows. We passed by a number of these farms, pausing often so Gnasher or Gloria could lean over the fence and try to pet the moles as they popped out of their holes. Spinny and I shared many pained, bored looks, but we didn’t press them to hurry up.

  No need to spoil their fun, I thought as I watched Gnasher tickle a particularly brave mole under its snout. Things will get hard once we get on the road.

  The rats were kept in huge, multi-story habitats. Their sleek bodies piled one atop another as they raced around the cages’ shelves, passages, and activity areas.

  I felt a little unnerved when we passed under one of the larger farms, a thousand little, red eyes staring down at us.

  “Not nearly as cute,” Gloria said.

  “But they do taste pretty good,” Gnasher argued, “especially the wild ones. Domestic rats get too lean.”

  We pushed through the outskirts of the farms and the far wall eventually came into view. Gloria directed us to a small utility tunnel cut into the wall. Like the elevators, there were State soldiers standing guard. The Hatuibwari presented them the same paperwork she had used before, and they waved us on without asking any questions.

  Beyond was a highway built for trucks and other motorized vehicles. Blacktop covered the road top, and eroded paint marks could still be seen marking the driving lanes. Harsh, industrial lights hung from the ceiling. Repairs had been made over the years; I could see where builders had come in to reinforce crumbling walls or to patch up potholes.

  “This road connects to a couple of different agricultural communes and a metal reclamation facility,” Gloria said, using her wing to shade her eyes, “We shouldn’t encounter too much traffic.”

  She pulled two tablets out of her rucksack. They were refurbished devices. Unlike the ones provided by the State, these lacked any kind of badge or icon on the back.

  “They’re like the ones you’re used to, but without all the State tracking and spyware,” Gloria explained as she handed them to me and Gnasher. “Courtesy of the Bluehorns. They contain our maps, based on what historical records were included in the corporate files. There’s also a copy of the lab blueprints.”

  I studied the data for a moment, The Bluehorns’ suggested route had us heading north-northeast. The map became less and less detailed the further out it went. At the edges, it could only offer the broadest strokes. The lab’s exact location was unknown, somewhere beyond.

  “Thanks." I tucked the tablet away and then pointed down the tunnel, “how long are we on here for?”

  She squinting, consulting her device. “At least another four or five kilometers. We’re looking for an old service hatch labeled MX-G452. You’ll have to find a way to pop it open for us once we get there.”

  True to her word, we encountered very few people on the road, mostly other travelers on foot heading towards the agricultural district. Once, a large truck, similar to the one I had seen the Syndicate pile into, drove by, heading north. I was relieved when it didn’t slow down or stop as it passed.

  Spinny was the one to find the hatch. She pointed it out, it was half-way up the wall on the left-hand side of the tunnel. She was kind enough to spin a tether for me so I could inspect it up close without having to cling to the wall.

  “Pretty standard hatch,” I told the group, as I ran a hand over the metal door. “Not meant for security, just to keep curious people out of non-day-to-day areas." I pulled out the tablet Gloria had provided. The map beyond the hatch looked like a long hallway, which connected to another, larger tunnel several hundred meters beyond.

  “Are you going to be able to fit through there, honey?” Gnasher asked Spinny.

  I showed the map to the Arachne, who nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. You’d be surprised how good spiders are at compacting their bodies to fit through tight openings.”

  I used the tools Noctis had provided to easily pop the restraining bolts off, then spun the wheel handle to unlock the hatch. Scanning with a sniffer, I confirmed that the air beyond was safe.

  “Clear,” I announced.

  Ushering everyone through, I pulled the hatch closed behind us and spun it lock.

  The access hall was narrow and dusty. Cracked and broken pipes ran overhead, and the occasional shattered electrical box hung off the concrete walls. Black and blue mold shimmered under our lantern beams. Spinny went first, due to her bulk, and I brought up the rear. It was a short, uneventful trip.

  There was no hatch at the far end of the hallway. An explosion had ripped open the tunnel wall, leaving a pile of rubble for us to scrabble over as we reached the floor. There were no lights either. Gloria looked more at ease, she no longer had to cover her eyes.

  I used my lantern to probe the dark.

  We were in a highway tunnel that appeared similar to the one we had been on minutes earlier, but it was clear that no one had used
it since the war. Ruined cars, trucks, and even armored personnel carriers lined the roadway, all reduced to burned-out wrecks. Black, carbon stains covered the curved walls and ceiling. There was graffiti everywhere, either the scrawled boasts of soldiers and mercenaries, or sad notes left by refugees looking for missing loved ones.

  Gloria was clearly upset by the first skeleton we encountered, its charred bones scattered across the ground, but the rest of us paid it no mind. I carefully directed her around the body, then took the lead as we began walking.

  “Do you run into dead bodies a lot, as a delver?” she asked, her voice echoing faintly.

  “More than you can count,” Gnasher replied. “This whole planet is one giant graveyard.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about dead bodies when you were telling your stories the other day,” she said accusingly.

  “Countless people died during the war,” Spinny said. She had taken up the rear since she could hold up a lantern much higher than the rest of us.

  “We just treat them with as much respect as we can,” I offered, trying to comfort her. “We don’t bother them, they don’t bother us.”

  “Unless they have good loot,” Gnasher laughed darkly.

  The Bluehorns’ map had us walk on the abandoned highway for hours, heading further north than I had ever been in my entire life. We stopped only for short breaks or to leave glyphs for our return trip on the walls. Though we didn’t see another living soul, I knew we passed beyond the boundaries of any of the communes and communities that dotted The Stacks outside of the Metrocomplex. I doubted even Guild scouts had come out that far.

  “You have really good hearing, right?” Gnasher asked Gloria, to which the bat-girl nodded. “Good, let me know if you hear anything moving ahead or behind us.”

  “Like what?” The trip had taxed her more than the rest of us, and she looked tired.

  I wondered how much it cost her to be awake and active during the daytime. As far as I knew, she was nocturnal, like most bat-hybrids.

  “Ghouls, mutants, giant carnivorous rats,” Gnasher responded. “And the killer cockroaches, can’t forget about them either.”

  “You just want to eat the rats,” I said accusingly. I turned to Gloria, “There are ghouls and wild mutants out there, but I wouldn’t worry about them. They’re pretty mindless, more like animals than anything else. They’re scared of noise and light, they won’t approach us.”

  “Ghouls are real?” Gloria squeaked. She seized a lantern and flicked it on, aiming the beam off into the dark.

  Surprisingly, it was Spinny who answered. “They’re the failed result of corporate super-soldier projects from the war.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to listen. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  She nodded and continued. “The corporations wanted soldiers who were indestructible, immortal. If they were injured in battle they could just grow new limbs, new body parts, and shamble back to life. What they got were senseless monsters instead. They escaped the labs after the war, flooding the caves looking for food." She smiled at Gloria. “But he’s right, they’re a cowardly lot. Even after living down there for years, not one of them was brave enough to try and attack me. As long as you keep your light on and don’t go anywhere alone, you’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks,” she wrapped a wing around herself, like a blanket, and shivered. “Are we going to stop soon?”

  I checked the map. “There should be some kind of room just off the tunnel a few kilometers ahead, probably a fuel or service station. We can stop there for the night.”

  Chapter 7

  The room turned out to be some kind of pullover for trucks and larger vehicles. Several rotten, rusted hulks clogged up the parking spaces.

  Spinny was able to climb atop one of them and spin a basic shelter for us; four sheets made of colorless silk, anchored to the ceiling. She then let down a rope so I could climb up without too much effort.

  Spinny and Gloria were so exhausted from the first day of travel that they barely managed to stuff down a basic meal of water and ration bars, before falling asleep.

  Gnasher and I agreed to split up the watch since we were the most experienced members of the group and hadn’t exerted ourselves nearly as much as the other two. Spinny set up a small web and immediately rocked herself to sleep, while Gloria found a cement beam to claw into so she could hang upside down comfortably.

  I set myself up on the edge of the truck’s cargo container, checked the lantern to make sure it had enough charge to last the night and settled in for my watch. I left a sniffer running as well, just in case.

  “You okay?” Gnasher asked, slipping beside me. She wrapped her tail around my waist and an arm around my shoulders in a tender manner.

  “I’m fine,” I leaned into her, enjoying the simple contact after a hard day. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

  “In a few, I’m not tired yet,” she said through a yawn. She looked out over the abandoned roadway and the destroyed vehicles. She suddenly said, “Who knew a freelance delving job would end up being so high stakes?”

  I glanced over at Spinny, she was asleep, her head pooled in her arms. “Yeah,” I answered, “this is important.”

  Spinny had provided very good reasons for us to accept the job, beyond the ten-grand reward.

  “The Arachne are slowly dying out,” she had explained that evening, back when we first told her about the job.

  “There have been less than a handful of births in the hundred years since the war. We live a long time, but it’s almost impossible for us to reproduce. There are no male Arachne, my sisters and I were created and incubated in tanks via artificial methods. Only a few of my sisters have been able to find chimeric mates compatible enough to successfully have children.”

  “So you’re hoping to find a solution in the lab?” Gnasher asked.

  Spinny nodded. “That, or at least more information about how the Arachne were first created. I doubt we could recreate the science the corporations used to originally create us, but there might be something there to help improve our odds.”

  Gnasher placed a hand on the back of her abdomen. “Spinny, do you want to have children?”

  The spider-woman looked stricken. “I don’t know,” she murmured, tugging at a braid of hair. “But I’d at least like the option.”

  “Oh, honey,” Gnasher reached up and hugged her tight.

  “We have to go then,” I said, earning a bewildered look from Spinny and a joyous smile from Gnasher.

  I walked up to the two of them. “If this means helping you, Spinny, then I feel like we have to do this. Since we’re family.”

  The looks of sincere appreciation Spinny gave me made me feel like the happiest man alive.

  Gnasher went to bed a few minutes after we finished talking, tucking in below Spinny’s web. I kept watch, machete across my knees, looking out at the absolute gloom that surrounded us.

  I only kept a small, battery-powered lantern on, just to keep any light-sensitive predators at bay. My night vision wasn’t bad, so I didn’t really need it to see.

  I had been on overnight delving trips before, and camping out in The Stacks never really bothered me. That evening though, a terrible feeling of unease filled me. I kept readjusting my grip on the machete.

  Nothing moved in the turnpike tunnel. I doubt any of those wrecks have moved a millimeter in the last hundred years, I thought, but I swear I can hear something out there.