Agent X

by Morgan Blayde

  “Never mind that,” the admiral said. “Evasive action. The Cassandra’S trying to ram us.”

  “It’s too late,” Elissa warned. “Brace for impact!”

  There should have been an incandescent firestorm as the two ships touched screens. There should have been a teeth-jarring, body-slamming impact as hulls collided. But the incomprehensible continued to happen. The ships over-lapped, phantoms to each other.

  Chim left his chair. For a moment, he stood both on his own bridge

  and that of the Cassandra. Before him, he saw Gunn. The man wore casual clothes instead of the armored exo-suit available to him. His shirt was ripped away. His chest, a panel of Plexiglas, encased an assembly of gears, pulleys, and flywheels. The mechanisms were still. Gunn’s skin was ashen, his eyes milky, blind.

  He’s dead, Chim realized. And someone’s been playing a ghastly game with his corpse?

  Gunn vanished, whisked away by the IMPERIAL DRAGON as the two leviathans separated.

  Chim found himself on the bridge of the Cassandra. The enemy vessel’s holo-field showed its disengagement as it set course for the rift.

  As if things weren’t bad enough already. Chim addressed the ship. “I’m taking command. Kill the drive. Hold position.”

  The ship answered. “I’m sorry, your request is denied. In the future, file the appropriate paperwork in triplicate and say pretty please.”

  The vessel’s living core was insane. He was going to have to close down its access to its own ship systems. But first, Elissa would want to know where he was, that he still lived. He knew she’d be going crazy herself over this turn of events. He sub-vocalized, “Elissa? Elissa? Can you read me?”

  Nothing. He might as well be in another universe.

  Better get going if I’m to stop this ship before it reaches the rift. He went to the lift door. It refused access. “Open the door,” he ordered.

  “You didn’t say pretty please.”

  “Just open the door.”

  “If you don’t like this game, we can try another. How about playing Simon Says?”

  “How about we don’t and say we did.”

  The ship’s voice grew shrill. “You’re not being very nice. Don’t make Momma punish you.”

  “Is that what you did to Gunn?”

  “He did that to himself.”

  “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

  The ship’s voice softened, turning sly. “You’ll see. You’ll understand everything once we reach the rift.”

  “Are you going to open the door or am I going to tear it open,” Chim asked.

  “Oh, have it your way.”

  “I intend to.”

  The door opened. Chim entered and activated the controls. Soon, the elevator disgorged him in the section housing the torque drive. The core had overridden his destination. Rather than repeat the experience, he headed for a service hatch. There were ways around the ship that only required patience and effort. Not all accesses were designed to accommodate exo-suits, but he’d go as far as possible before abandoning his protection.

  He descended several levels, emerging in the hydroponics bay, landing on a catwalk above the algae tanks. His sensors reported motion. He refined the scans, picking up the signature of drones that tried to hide their energy signatures amid the area machinery. He kept moving, having no other choice. Scuttling like steel crabs, limbs bristling with maintenance tools, they pounced as he reached stairs to the lower deck.

  I was wondering when these guys were going to show. I can take them one on one, but en mass, they can do some damage. Better stay on the stairs so they can’t swarm me. Once I’ve thinned them out a little, I can push on.

  The first drone lunged in, trying to wrap itself around his legs. He drove a knee into its visual processor, and dropped it with an elbow strike. It kept flailing as the next drone climbed its body. Chim seized a limb that ended in a wheel bristling with screwdrivers. He ripped the steel arm away and used it to rain blows on both units until they stopped moving. By that time, not much was left of his makeshift club.

  His sensors warned him of drones on the catwalk he’d just abandoned, cutting off his retreat. It didn’t matter; retreat was not an option he allowed himself. However, it was time to do the unexpected. He vaulted the railing and dropped to the lower deck, squishing a pair of drones in the process. They died in electric showers, power cores breached.

  A drone dropped onto his head, prying at his visor. He wrenched the drone away, flinging it into several more of its kind.

  Chim drove his suit at top speed, seeing a hatch ahead. He was almost there when a drone with a cutting torch leaped into his path. He didn’t slow, knowing that his suit could handle the heat. His weak spot was the visor though it could take a lot of abuse. As a precaution, he threw his arms up, covering the faceplate as he hit.

  The drone was crushed against the hatch. Severely dented, jerking erratically, the construct dropped the torch. Chim broke a limb off the drone and shoved it out of the way, opening the hatch. Though a tight fit, he got inside. He sealed the door and used the broken limb to jam the dogging mechanism.

  The space he occupied was one of numerous power stations that serviced the ship. At the back of the chamber, he ripped away the access plate to a crawl space. This would take him straight to the central core. The only problem was he’d have to strip down to continue.

  He began to disengage from the exo-suit, piling the pieces off to the side. The hatch to the chamber rang with blows as drones attempted to get to him. Chim knew that soon, they’d start cutting their way in. He climbed into the crawlspace, and pressed on, mindful that he needed to do something before the Cassandra reached the rift, or his own side blew him out of existence.

  This is a bit too easy, he decided. The drones should have put up more resistance. And what happened to the running commentary I was getting from the ship. The core has been too silent too long. Does she actually want me to succeed?

  He reached the central space where the organic core resided, nestled with in life-support and cybernetic interfaces. Within a great mirror-sheathed sphere of silica, Chim knew an invertebrate life form swam in nutrient solution, the true mind of the ship. This would be a twin to Elissa.

  He addressed the core, “It’s amazing what they do with jellyfish these days, huh?”

  “What! You know?”

  Ah, that got a response. “Could you turn the volume down a little,” he asked.

  The core said, “I didn’t think any of the x-class agents knew the true nature of their partners. Those that created Project X thought it better if the leviathans were considered soulless—expendable if need be.”

  “We’re all expendable—if need be. We are servants of the Imperium. Do you have a name?”

  The mirror sheathing slid down in sections. Chim studied the glassed-in invertebrate with polite interest.

  “I never gave myself a name. Those who originally installed me in this ship used a number in their references. Gunn called both the ship and me Cassandra. My image does not disgust you?”

  “No.”

  “I suspect I have chosen wisely. You can give me a new name, if you want.”

  “You picked my ship in order to get me? You knew you could transfer me aboard when you pulled that ghostly maneuver.”

  “Yes. What I learned in the rift has been useful. All it cost was my captain and my sanity. Are you going to give me a name?”

  “It’s important to you? Sure. How about Lorelei?”

  “That’s pretty.”

  “Look,” Chim said. “I need you to stop this ship.”

  “The fleet will catch up. I’ll be forced to kill again.”

  “That bothers you? You’ve killed several freighters and their crews already, and probably the captain of the Ranger as well.”

  “I needed the freighters to die to draw your kind into this region,” Lorelei said. “There was a reason, a purpose. And I did not kill Michelle Lyne. After taking her off the
Ranger, we entered the rift. It killed

  her.”

  He shrugged. Same difference. Chim voice remained mild as he nonchalantly edged toward the interface equipment. “Why do you need to drag an x-class agent into the rift?”

  “You’re too late to pull my plug,” Lorelei said. “We are now in the rift. Without me, you’ll never get out.”

  Chim’s hand rested on an induction port cable. “Maybe I’m willing to sacrifice myself to stop your rampage.”

  “Then the last hope of neutralizing the rift will be lost. The threat to the Imperium will grow until nothing can stop it.”

  “You’re saying everything you’ve done has been in the line of duty? That’s insane.”

  “But true. The rift does not conform to the natural laws you are familiar with. It is insane so an insane solution had to be employed.”

  Chim felt deep shock. It made a twisted sort of sense. “Say you’re right,” he said. “What can I do that Lyne and Gunn couldn’t?”

  “Survive your demons.”

  “My ... demons...?”

  “In the rift, quantum inertia is lost. The universe becomes easily malleable, defenseless. Suppressed fears and phobias are given form, coming to life. On a deep, hidden level of his mind, Gunn feared losing his humanity, becoming only a machine. The manifestation of that truth destroyed him. Lyne could not control her darkness either. You don’t want to see what’s left of her.”

  “So, in a sense, I’m going to be fighting myself as I’ve done all my life.”

  “Yes.”

  “How have you survived,” Chim asked. “Aren’t you afraid of anything?”

  “The only thing I’ve ever feared is death, but it has lost all hold on me. Once this mission is accomplished, I intend to jettison this core into the closest sun. I loved Gunn. I could never tell him that, but I did. Good luck. If you survive, the rift will give you the power to make your will reality. You can restore quantum stability and close the rift down.”

  “Why haven’t you done this yourself?”

  “In the rift, all my focus is needed to keep this ship operational. That’s why a guardsman is needed.”

  “How long until—”

  “We’re deep enough in the rift now. Look in the shadows. They’re stirring with life.” The mirror shield rose back into place.

  Hmmmm. Guess she doesn’t want to see what I’m about to do to myself.

  He turned around and braced himself for a storm, trying not to guess

  what was coming. His imagination was now his greatest liability. He tried to clear away all surface thought so he wouldn’t feed the darkness more than his subconscious was going to.

  The chamber lights dimmed. The shadows grew, writhing at the edges of his vision. Smoldering eyes appeared. The shadows stared at him hungrily. There were footfalls on the deck. Dark shapes shuffled slowly closer. They were children. He knew the faces from his childhood.

  A wave of distortion passed over him. His too-long shirtsleeves dangled past his hands. The entire contact suit had grown too large for him. The legs bunched up, sagging around his over-sized boots. He quickly rolled the sleeves up and examined his palms. The hands were pink and smaller. It wasn’t the clothing that had changed, but him. He’d become the same size as the approaching children.

  They were silent, but their expressions spoke volumes on the subject of hatred. Each child clutched a knife.

  He kicked off the boots and shed the contact suit. If he were going to have to fight for his life, he didn’t want to do it hampered as he was.

  The children responded with wicked grins, never relenting in their measured approach.

  Chim sidestepped to gain more space, not wanting to get hemmed in against the machinery. He debated retaliation. Fighting these creatures might give them more reality. His trained reflexes decided for him, as the first child lunged in. Chim used a crossed-wrist block to catch the knife hand. It was all too solid. His knee smashed into the boy’s stomach.

  The knife fell with a clatter. Chim bent his knees, chasing the weapon, as a female threw herself past his back, slashing. Her blade passed over his head. He didn’t bother arching backwards for a counter thrust. Her momentum carried her by too quickly for that, and more were bodies were coming.

  The children showed no fear, no humanity. Taking out a few to intimidate the rest wasn’t going to work. Even if he did kill them all, the rift was the true threat. It would only throw something else at him. It was time to do what he’d always done as a child on Charon; he had to yield to the inevitable to win. He cast the knife away, forcing himself to perfect stillness.

  Bodies blurred, lunging by, leaving scratches that didn’t hurt at first. The knives were very sharp. It puzzled him at first that no one wanted to strike deeply, but as the children gyred, understanding came. This was the-death-of-a-thousand-cuts, an esoteric method of execution employed by ancient Japanese Swordsmen of the highest level. After learning about it in his Asian studies, he’d occasionally wondered what such a death would be like.

  It looked like he was going to find out.

  As the cuts accumulated, he felt a desire for his abandoned armor. But an exo-suit wasn’t the answer. Gunn had died in his, probably Lyne as well. The real battlefield lay within his soul. His nightmare had come to life and he met it with laughter. Knives flashed. His flesh grew slippery with blood. Outraged nerves were screaming complaint. He locked his arms and fists, trapping them in rigidity.

  The dancers stumbled, staggering. Their bodies paled, growing translucent. A moment later, they were gone, but not his cuts. The wounds stayed with him as his body swelled, growing to full adult stature. He doubted that anything was truly over; the lights were still dim and the shadows along the walls continued to churn.

  He went to gather up his clothes. Few men enjoy facing the unknown naked as the day they were born. He was no exception. Good thing Elissa isn’t here—I’d be so busy fighting off her wandering hands, nothing would get done. Damn! Why did I think that?

  Glowing fingers slipped around from behind him, caressing his chest, sliding down stomach. A soft body pressed against his back. A familiar voice whispered a greeting. “Hi, Lover. Miss me?”

  “I always miss you when you’re not with me, but you are not real, just a copy drawn from my mind, given life by the rift.”

  The arms around him tightened with warning. “Are you spurning my advances? That’s not smart. You know what a bitch I can be.”

  A sudden gasp escaped him as her hands morphed into gold- scaled claws that stabbed into his flesh. She drew furrows across his chest, slicing open the contact suit. His feet left the deck as she fanned great searing wings, lifting him. Her neck elongated. Her face, melted like wax in a crucible, reshaping itself. The features he loved devolved, growing gaunt and rapacious with avian elements. She screeched from a hooked beak, and the sound drove a needle through his brain.

  He knew the only way to banish illusion was to confront it with truth. He made the name a prayer, summoning the memories of their passion, their devotion, of every touch and kiss. He held her like a precious dream, refusing any other interpretation. Chim gathered his longing and flung it into the void, “Elissaaaaaaaa!”

  The false image answered, “I’m right here, Lover.”

  “No!” He denied her. His voice dropped to a desperate whisper, “Elissa, I need you...”

  “Want me or not,” the harpy hissed, “I’m all you’ve got. Reconcile yourself to my hunger.” Her beak speared into his shoulder, drawing blood, scoring muscle, making it burn.

  “Uhnnnn!” Elissa!

  She came in a burst of gold that flooded the room. He reached for

  her. I knew you wouldn’t fail me. Her gaze locked onto him, widening in horror, then narrowing in incandescent fury. She screamed, exploding his way.

  The harpy-Elissa dropped him to confront the new threat.

  Above him, the women thrashed in combat, exchanges blows and kicks until suddenly flying apa
rt.

  The harpy was indignant over a second replication. “What makes you think one conception can beat another? The same rift quickens us both.”

  “You are going down, bitch,” Elissa promised. “There’s only one of me and I’m it! And no one hurts my Chim without getting stomped...flat!” A sword of clear gold fire appeared in her hand as she lunged in once more. The blade fell in an overhand strike. The harpy split cleanly into two halves that held their shape a heartbeat before dissolving into a heavy flurry of sparks.

  Chim tried to stand but slipped in his own spilt blood, falling. Elissa joined him, gathering him in with strong arms. He lost himself, staring.

  “How bad is it Chim?”

  “I’ll be … all right. You’re real?” He wasn’t sure at this point of anything he experienced.

  “Yes, love. When the Cassandra entered the rift, the admiral ordered the fleet to hang back. The other leviathan’s concurred, barring my way when I tried to follow anyway. But I know many ways to skin a tiger.”

  “Let me guess,” he said. “You overrode all safety protocols, hyper-charging the holo projections with the Hera crystal. You got yourself into the rift and tapped its energy to sustain yourself.”

  “It was all I could think of. Somehow, I heard you calling me. I felt you needing me. I had to come.”

  “I’m glad you did. It’s time to end this, Elissa. I need your help.”

  “You know you can ask me anything.”

  “The rift is a resonation of the souls within it. We must purify this space, heal it.”

  “How?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “Chim, is this the time and place…? Not that I’m disinclined, mind you.”

  “Kiss me,” he ordered, “and put your whole heart into it so the universe is reduced to a single perfect moment. It is the nature of love to heal and restore.”

  She supported the back of his head as she kissed him. Her lips fused to his, soft, pliant, demanding. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation, until a voice distracted him.

  “What are you doing, young man? Is this how you complete a

  mission?”

  Chim opened his eyes, shifting to see the speaker. It was a tall, nameless man in a white lab coat. He held a clipboard, scribbling furiously on it as he talked. “This is a clear dereliction of duty. I have grave doubts about your future in this program. Grave doubts.”