DIRE : TIME (The Dire Saga Book 3)

by Andrew Seiple

  Minna shrugged. “Can fly. Can shoot. Not as good as Dire.”

  “More than we had.” Bunny said. “And we’ve got the teleportation engine. Can you use that, too?”

  Minna shook her head. “Knew the emergency codes. Don’t know how to use it for anything but evacuation to here from main base.”

  “This program can assist with that.” The smartframe offered. “It shouldn’t eat up too many cycles. Won’t make a significant difference in the hacking war.”

  Bunny nodded. “Okay. That’s good. And you know exactly where that first component is?”

  “The photonic resonance amplifier? Yes.” Three-dimensional maps of the Helios Arcosphere materialized on the table. Bunny leaned in and studied them... and smiled. “Got it. Alright, I know how we’re going to get the thing.”

  “Yes?” Kirsten leaned in.

  “Tomorrow. We need to get some rest, first.”

  “Ain’t no time for that.” Martin said, crossing his arms.

  “Absolutely time for that.” Bunny put her hands on her hips. “We’re wiped out, just got out of a major fight, and running on fumes. Besides, my plan won’t work until eight tomorrow.”

  “Why?” Martin asked. “What happens at eight?”

  “We walk right into the Arcosphere’s front door.”

  And the next morning, that’s just what they did.

  Two miles offshore, on the thin strip of land known as Canaan Island, the Helios corporate headquarters loomed over the ocean like the world’s biggest golfball. A white sphere, studded with solar collectors and the occasional concealed antenna, the Arcosphere housed ten thousand people, all employees or family members. Accessible from the mainland via undersea subway, chartered airship, or ferry, it was one of the major tourist attractions of Icon City.

  Which is why Bunny was wearing sunglasses, a loud Hawaiian shirt, a pair of cargo pants, and an honest-to-god camera. Beside her, Kirsten limped along on a crutch, one leg wrapped up in bandages and tape.

  “Still don’t see why I’m runnin’ overwatch.” Martin muttered in her ear. Bunny adjusted the subvocal rig concealed by the glasses, and muttered back.

  “We need Minna to fly the suit, so someone has to watch Anya. And since we need Vorpal for the main part of this, that leaves you.”

  “Coulda paid for Daycare. Dropped her off. You know, like normal people do.”

  “Then what happens if we don’t come back?” Bunny muttered. “And with Arachne on the hunt for us we’re fucked if she finds Anya and sets up an ambush. Look, lose the whining, we’re almost to the scanners. Man up and go quiet.”

  The scanners didn’t fire on Bunny, but Kirsten’s leg brace set them off. She submitted to a pat down, and winced when the guards felt around her bandages. “Ow! Careful!”

  Finally they were satisfied, and waved her through. Bunny waited by the gift shop until Kirsten caught up. “Walk slower,” she murmured. “You’re supposed to be nursing a broken leg.”

  Kirsten rolled her eyes, but slowed it down. The two of them passed the TOUR STARTS HERE sign, and made their way through the lobby.

  “I’m sorry, are you lost?” One of the white-vested security guards caught up to them as Bunny tried to open the doors back into the main hall.

  “We wanted to hit the restroom before the tour,” Bunny said. “Is that alright?”

  The guard glanced back at the sign, and the two or three other people milling about it. “Sure, it’s early yet. Hang on, I’ll buzz you through.”

  Holy shit, these guys are chumps.

  A quick chat into the speaker, and the doors opened with a soft hiss. “First door on the right. Don’t go past the green line, okay? Come on back as soon as you’re done.”

  “Sure.” Bunny lied.

  This early in the day, before the tours officially started, the bathroom was as empty as she hoped it’d be. Helios had European-style enclosed stalls, no gaps between the stall walls and the ceiling or floor. She motioned Kirsten into one of the roomy spaces and followed, locking the door behind her.

  “Martin, we’re in position.” Bunny subvocalized.

  “Cool. Aight Minna, you’re—” Static.

  “The fuck?” Not good.

  “We are too deep in the building?” Kirsten suggested, a faint note of forlorn hope in her voice.

  “We’re barely inside the front door.” Bunny tapped the mike. “Martin? Hello? Martin?”

  “Well hello there!” An unfamiliar female voice oozed cheerfulness with every word.

  “Who is this?”

  “Hello Carol.” A bucket of ice water ran down Bunny’s spine.

  “You’ve got the wrong frequency. Get off this one, whoever you are.”

  “No, no I’d say I have the right one, Carol.”

  “Who are you?”

  Kirsten touched her arm. “You’re shouting.”

  “You’re not hearing this?” Bunny asked.

  “Hearing what?” Kirsten looked puzzled.

  The voice continued. “We’re on a private circuit now. Just you and me, dear. Hi, I’m Arachne. Let’s talk.”

  Bunny whipped her hand up, grabbed the sunglasses, and paused. First instinct was to ditch them. But the damage had already been done, and there might be something to learn from this.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Smart move. Try to ditch your subvocal rig and I alert Helios security that you’re trying to break in. Now why are you doing that?”

  “I heard they had the best breakroom donuts around. Those little glazed chocolate ones, you know?”

  A condescending chuckle. “Fine, be that way. Listen, I’ll get straight to the point. Where’s Dire?”

  “Back at the lair catching up on her soaps.”

  “She didn’t come out to fight me when I invaded her lair. Why?”

  “You weren’t worth her time.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  “She was a bit busy with Crusader. You understand.”

  “That’s not what the satellite view suggested.” Arachne whispered. “What are you hiding?”

  “My stunning wit and brilliant repartee. No, wait, I’m showing that off.”

  Kirsten looked at Bunny with a thoroughly stunned expression. “Have you gone mad?”

  Bunny waved her hand, trying to get her to shut up.

  “Well. Let’s talk about you instead, Carol.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Hit a nerve there, huh?” Arachne chortled. “Staff Sergeant Carol Shriver, served from ninteen-eighty-eight to nineteen-ninety one. Attempted Green Beret selection. Failed. Hospitalized after a Caliphate incursion on Firebase Persia. Affliction unknown. At the time, anyway.”

  Bunny closed her eyes, as the memories flooded back. The glowing form walking through the wire, Spooky shrieking that the wards were down, the light that wasn’t light that sprayed from the figure’s hands... and the coughing sickness afterward. The vomiting, the hair loss, and legions of doctors that had shrugged, and written her off. Shipped stateside for treatment, told that the incident was classified, and it’d be treason to talk of it.

  “Yeah. Something like that,” she said.

  “They’re called Djinn, you know.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny this subject.”

  “Well, let’s move on then. Back in Icon City with a sergeant’s pension and medical bills. And what do you do once you’re mostly recovered? You go and join a vigilante gang.”

  “Is this going somewhere?” She checked her watch. While she was talking, Arachne wasn’t calling security. Just a few more minutes...

  “Most of your record disappears there. You turn up in the Longlane Massacre, the fight with the Black Bloods. You’re helping a villain. Why?”

  “If you have to ask, you won’t understand.”

  “Try me. I’m honestly curious here.”

  “I remember when WEB was first getting started.” Bunny took a breath. “I remember when you bombed Ascher St
adium. How many people died in that?”

  “Sixty-seven. Before my time, though.”

  “Oh, you’ve only gotten worse with age. The coup down in Buenos Aires? Lone Star’s murder? And how many airplanes full of hostages have you guys taken over the years?”

  “Well, that’s the downside of a cell organization full of diverse miscreants,” said Arachne, “sometimes you get overachievers.”

  “And how many of your people died when you attacked us? No, I’m thinking you don’t get a pass.”

  “So it’s morality. She’s suckered you into thinking she’s the lesser evil.” Arachne sounded disappointed. “You’ve really drunk the kool-aid, huh?”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “I hand out the kool-aid. I don’t drink the stuff myself.” She sighed. “I was going to offer you resolution for the incident with the Djinn, but analysis of our discussion suggests that you’re past that. I’m honestly at a loss, as far as bribes go.”

  “Wouldn’t work.”

  “Well, then, on to the threats—”

  BOOM!

  The room shook, and Bunny grinned. “Pass. Eat shit and die.” She jerked the sunglasses from her face, tugged on the hair-thin thread that held the microphone in place against her inner ear until it was loose, and dropped both of them in the toilet.

  “What?” Kirsten asked.

  “Ditch them. Quickly.”

  Kirsten shrugged, tossed hers in as well. Bunny flushed them. “This is not part of the plan.” Kirsten protested, “What were you babbling about earlier?”

  “Arachne hacked our comms.”

  The blood drained from Kirsten’s face. “We need to abort.”

  “We can’t. No way to signal for an early teleport. Only way out is through. Start cutting, Vorpal.”

  “How will we get out?” Her voice was getting shrill.

  Bunny put her hands on Kirsten’s shoulders. “Five minutes. If we’re out of contact for five minutes, the smartframe beams us out, or up, or whatever. Now start cutting!”

  Kirsten’s breath was heavy and fast for a moment, until Bunny leaned in and kissed her. Then she melted. Bunny felt her shake, held her and calmed her. The seconds ticked by, but no help for it. I need her unafraid.

  The room shook again, but they ignored it. That part, at least, was going to plan.

  Finally Kirsten nodded, and peeled the metal support brace out from her bandages. Nothing more than a thin strip of metal, but it had an edge, and that was all that her powers needed.

  Black energy flared around it, drawing Bunny’s eyes in a painful, hard-to-define way. Anything that blade touched would be cut. Period. Kirsten wasted no time, but hopped to the top of the toilet, braced herself, and began cutting into the ceiling.

  From the stories Dire had shared with Bunny, they’d used a similar trick a year back to get the drop on a security room. There was a risk that this technique had been shared, but it was small. Morgenstern Inc., the company they’d first infiltrated, was the biggest rival to Helios. Not much chance they’d share information.

  Now, so long as the blueprints were accurate, they’d be up to the level they needed in two minutes.

  It took five, all told. There were more pipes than anticipated, and working around them was difficult.

  Then again, what do you expect when you’ve got three bathrooms stacked in a column. It was a common flaw in older buildings. To simplify the plumbing, the architects would put the bathrooms on top of each other. She’d studied it for breaching purposes, back when she thought that special ops was her future.

  Now she was using it to help her supervillain girlfriend rob a benevolent research corporation in the hopes of saving another supervillain. How the fuck did I get here? Bunny asked herself for the thousandth-and-first time. And like the previous times, she had no answer.

  The bathrooms were deserted, as she’d known they would be. The Helios blueprints had disaster shelters on every floor. Right now the staff were fleeing into them, and guards were set up at chokepoints. No other personnel around. Most importantly, no cameras in the bathrooms.

  That part went off without a hitch.

  But when Kirsten carved into the western wall of the third-floor bathroom, alarms blared. Bunny gritted her teeth, cracked her knuckles. Couldn’t be lucky forever. Of course they had pressure alarms, this close to the labs. This was the sort of thing that overwatch could have told them, but well, Arachne had blown that plan all to hell.

  “Ah, there you are!” Arachne’s voice boomed from the intercom in the next room.

  Speak of the devil...

  “You aren’t ditching me that easily, Carol.”

  Kirsten froze, and Bunny patted her back. “Keep going. Ignore the asshole.”

  “Asshole? Most people in your position would call me a bitch.”

  “Never liked the word.” The section of carved wall crumbled inward, revealing a storeroom beyond. Red emergency lights flickered and flared, and a klaxon wailed in rhythmic rage. Two walls to go, then we’ll be through here and into the lab. “Heard it from too many guys. Asshole’s not gender-typed. Everyone’s got one of those. Well, maybe not you.”

  “Well, that’s enlightened of you. So what’s she got you doing up here? Something in the labs, hmmm?”

  “Clear!” Kirsten hissed, and they burst into the room. Racks and shelves of hardware and circuits filled most of it, and the place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the last presidential administration.

  “Yeah, something in the labs. Weird, I thought they’d have better security for their networks. Yet here you are.”

  “And your master thought your comms were secure enough against me. Yet here I am.”

  Kirsten glanced at the north wall, looked to her. Bunny gave her a thumbs up, grabbed the heaviest looking boxes she could see, and started dragging them over to the room’s only entrance. “She’s not my master,” she muttered.

  “Not how it looks from where I’m standing,” Arachne tittered. “From spec ops washout to vigilante to minion. How does that work again? Right now it looks like you’re following the loser track in the game of life. The cancer’s probably not helping, either.”

  “Cancer?” Kirsten stopped, her blade midway through the wall. “You have cancer?” Her face was a mask of dawning horror.

  “No!” Bunny frowned. “Technically not. It’s called Smokeless Fire Syndrome and there’s no time for this. Ignore the asshole.”

  “Yep, cancer,” Arachne continued without mercy. “Magical cancer, but cancer nonetheless. Due in every other year for a checkup and specialized treatment. Hey, wonder how that’ll work once I notify every veteran’s hospital that you’re a wanted fugitive?”

  The panel next to the exit turned from red to green, and the door rattled against the boxes. Someone was trying to get in. “Keep cutting, Vorpal!” Bunny called out.

  “Why did you not tell me you had cancer?” Kirsten’s voice wavered.

  “Now is not the time Ki— Vorpal.”

  “Yeah Carol, why didn’t you tell her?” Arachne asked. “I’m honestly curious. Thought you two were a pair.”

  “There was never a good time.” Bunny muttered. “I’m sorry, okay? Can we talk about this after the op’s done?”

  Kirsten looked at her for a moment longer, then turned back to cutting. The tension in her wiry frame was evident even from across the room. Bunny knew this wasn’t over. It had barely begun, and there would be drama ahead.

  Bunny leaned against the crates. The door bucked and slammed, flicking from red to green every time, but she thought the barrier would hold long enough.

  “We’re through!” Kirsten called.

  “Go!” Bunny waited until Kirsten pushed through the hole, gave one more glance at the crates, then raced after her. She took a second to kick over a shelf or two, send boxes crashing and circuit-boards flying all over the place. The more confusion and mess the more time she’d have before their improvised egress was visible.
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  The next room was a meeting room. Bunny spared the sole table a glance, dismissed it. Too large to tip over and barricade the door. The chairs were too light, and looking at the door frame, this one opened out.

  On the other hand... she tried the handle, and it turned. Good.

  “You know they’ll register the new breach on their systems. In a minute they’ll realize what you did, and then the guards will be on you.”

  “Cut the next wall, Vorpal.”

  “I could be persuaded to redirect them. All you have to do is tell Dire to talk with me.”

  “Do it, c’mon. Time’s short.” Vorpal nodded, started cutting.

  “Seriously, what’s with the silent treatment? I see her flying around right outside, walloping the heck out of the Arcosphere, and being all distracty. Distracty, is that a word? Hm, search engines say no. Well, I invented it then. Anyway, look, I’ll patch you through to her. Tell her to talk to me, and I’ll redirect the guards.”

  “No subvocal rig anymore. Sorry,” Bunny said.

  “Here, look, I’ll patch you through the intercom.” A series of clicks. “Now you’re on the outside speakers. Look, just tell her to talk with me. Maybe we can settle this in a way that leaves you alive.”

  Noise from the room behind. The guards had gotten through the makeshift barricade. In a minute or less, they’d find the hole in the wall.

  Bunny sighed. “Vorpal?”

  “Ja?”

  “Stick to the plan, alright? I’ll buy you time.”

  “No, I—”

  “I love you Kirsten. We got this. Do it.”

  Bunny opened the door and charged out into the hall.

  There was one guard out in the hall, looking into the storeroom through the forced-open door. White-vested like the one downstairs, only this guy had a riot helmet and pads, and a snubby little submachine gun in his hands. A P90? Looked like. She didn’t have time to get a good look, because she was already charging him as he turned at the noise. A flying tackle at his knees put him down, sending the gun skidding across the floor. She grabbed the strap of his helmet, tore it off as he scrabbled at her, trying to shove her off of him. Three quick punches and he stopped fighting. She half-rose, half-crouched and ran over to the gun, scooped it up in a smooth motion, and turned to the doorway. Another guard charged out, stopped, and skidded as Bunny braced her back against the wall and sent a burst past him. He turned and ran back inside. She followed him with two more short bursts, aiming to miss.