Division Zero: Thrall

by Matthew S. Cox

  A twinge of unease made Kirsten grab her stomach. “I remember being in school and learning the ACC honored the old flag that went up hundreds of years ago.”

  Nina glanced over, no readable emotion on her face. “What else did they teach you?”

  Kirsten looked away, gazing out over the stark buildings and narrow streets. The dome above had darkened to compensate for sunlight, leaving the stars at the edge of visibility.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” said Nina, as she checked an immense handgun. “These are dangerous times, and there are far, far worse places to live than the UCF.”

  The lesser of two evils is still evil. Kirsten took out her NetMini and stared into the black glass. What’s the alternative though? Living like tribals out in the Badlands? Out in the lawless colonies? “Yeah.” Her finger trailed over the surface, causing the holographic panel to appear. She had left it on the email, with images of Evan. Confident Konstantin posed no threat to him, she allowed herself to smile at his excitement playing with the patrol craft.

  “Guess you like your car.”

  She glanced at Nina with a lifted eyebrow. “These are of Evan.”

  “Oh,” said Nina, leaning toward her. “I thought the car was the focus of the image, the boy is off to the side.”

  Kirsten flipped through them, first to last and back again. Dammit! She’s right. They were scoping Dorian, not Evan. He knows about the car. Relief at Evan’s safety clashed with worry about Dorian, leaving her hands shaking.

  Nina’s voice rambled over the comm., giving orders and arranging forces around the destination. At the same time, she spoke in the real world. “Fear or anger?”

  The oddity of hearing her carry on two conversations at once caused a face that made Nina laugh.

  “Uhh, yes. Both,” said Kirsten.

  “We’re almost there. Here, you should see this.”

  Nina took a wire out of a pocket, plugging one end into the back of her neck and the other into Kirsten’s NetMini. The Vidmail client vanished in a smear of pixels as a full-panel feed took over. The room in the image had the look of an empty garage, with enough space for numerous armored vehicles among reinforced pillars. Silver markings, a familiar circle, surrounded a dark metal disc at the center, which was likely an old lift platform. Within the ring, a pentagram filled with ancient writing, unreadable from the ceiling-mounted camera, shimmered in the light of five candles. Around the center, five dingy jumpsuit-clad people hung from handcuffs on the columns. Two women and three men writhed as though energy flowed through them. None appeared cognizant of their surroundings, as if sharing a mutual pleasant dream.

  Konstantin paced at the edge of the circle, adding a symbol here or a pinch of silver powder there. Bile rose in the back of her throat at the sight of the elderly man. She squirmed, attempting to force away the memory of that rough hand sliding up inside her legs.

  “I agree. Looks like a clusterfuck in there.”

  Heat fell over Kirsten’s face like a curtain. “Uhh, yeah.”

  “You alright?”

  Kirsten looked away, blushing harder. “Fine.”

  “Well, I ain’t psych, but I can tell something’s not right. Are you going to have any hesitation in there?”

  Shame morphed to anger. Kirsten glared forward. “No. I don’t think so. In fact, I can’t wait.”

  “Good. He’s got some security people on the outside. They are unaware of our operatives already in position. As soon as we’re ready, we’ll neutralize them. How do you want to play the inside?”

  Kirsten thought back to the Pentecostal church. “I’d prefer to go in alone. I’m not really too fond of the idea of having to deal with a Division Nine doll that’s been possessed by a demon.” She forced a weak smile. “No offense.”

  Nina nodded. “I can’t say I believe you, but I’ll trust you for now.”

  “What do you mean by neutralize?”

  The Lieutenant glanced up and left, as if examining a screen only she could see. “There are eighteen sentries posted around an upper level maintenance corridor and five outside. We have shooters in position for a simultaneous kill.”

  “Nina―sorry―Lieutenant, I don’t know if that would be a good idea. Whatever Kon―the bastard is doing, it feeds on ghosts. Killing them all might make my job harder.”

  “It’s okay, Kirsten. Nina is fine. I owe you at least that for trying to help out with Vincent. Do you have anything concrete to base your opinion on?”

  She’s smiling. Now I’m scared. A blur of motion went past Konstantin on the floating panel. “Nafiz. Two men inside, I should be able to handle them.” Kirsten rubbed her right wrist. Now that I’m off his damn leash. “Umm, no. They’ll be pretty weak ghosts at first. I guess I just don’t like killing.”

  “Neither do I.” Nina stared up at the stars. “I hope I never do.”

  Kirsten opened her mouth to speak, but lurched up in her seat as the vehicle pitched down at a forty-five degree angle on a long, curving ramp. Gleaming green went by in a flash on her right―the Senate Tower. It was visible for a mere second before a tunnel swallowed them. Whirring motors faded to silence as the driver let off speed, allowing gravity to take them forward. Four of the Marines stood in their seats, compact rifles at the ready. Seconds stretched to minutes in Kirsten’s mind. Anxiety over Dorian, fanned by the fires of feeling like a fifth wheel, set her leg bouncing.

  “We are go on my mark,” said Nina over the comm. “Three, two, one… mark.”

  The instant Nina said ‘mark’ lined up with the rover gliding in silence around the curve, coming into view of a door guarded by several men. A faint electronic noise, a rippling thrumming, came from in front as the Marines opened fire. Numerous separate voices said ‘target clear’ in rapid succession. Distant sizzles and a brief yelp echoed as the men standing by a pair of great armored doors twitched and hit the ground. Kirsten sent an apologetic frown at six ghosts stumbling around over smoking bodies. Their plain suits, much like the security team at Konstantin’s mansion, broke out in small fires.

  “I hate these IR lasers,” said a gravelly voice over comm.

  A woman replied. “Why’s that?”

  “Winston likes the blood spatter from slugs,” said a different man.

  “Yeah, but we need quiet,” said a female voice with an Asian accent.

  “I got a knife for that.” Sinister, throaty chuckling made Kirsten’s spine twitch.

  “You sure you still want to go in alone?”

  Kirsten jumped at Nina’s voice. “Uhh, yeah. You’re watching right? Just come in if I need help.”

  “Opening these doors will make a lot of noise and give away any surprise we have. However, there is a way you can get in.” Nina handed her a sleek military knife in a black nylon sheath. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

  “As long as it’s not a closet, I should be okay.” She took the huge blade in both hands, grasping the rubberized grip. “A combat knife?” A whistle slid through her teeth when she pulled it an inch out of the sheath and noted the blade had the appearance of bluish glass. “Nano?”

  “Call it a key.” Nina walked to the wall and peeled a section of metal paneling open with her bare fingers, exposing a large pipe. Nano claws sprang from her right hand. “Like this.”

  Kirsten gulped at the sight of plastisteel bending like foil.

  The doll punched the claws through the metal tube as though it were foam. A deft motion excised a plug just big enough for a body to slip through. Kirsten crept over, leaning into the hole and looking left and right. It was empty save for a thin strip of grime down the center. The reek of ancient air brought a dry tickle to her throat.

  “Crawl until I tell you to stop. You’ll be right under them. Best get moving, I have a feeling those hostages aren’t intended to be used for negotiations.”

  Kirsten clipped the knife to her belt and braced her hands on the sides of the hole. A quick jump and knee tuck brought her boots over the rim a
nd she set her feet in the hollow pipe. After a brief glance at Nina, she shook her head and slid flat into the tube. “No, they’re sacrifices.”

  Nina held out a set of goggles. “Need NV?”

  Plain white light glowed from Kirsten’s eyes following a few seconds of concentration. The Marines leaned back as one unit.

  Nina laughed. “I guess not.”

  Lit by Darksight, the endless tube shimmered in wavering sepia. Despite it being quite stationary, the visual effect made her feel as though she crawled through a moving hose. Kirsten hardened her stare, pulling herself arm over arm forward. “Damn glad I don’t get motion sickness.” The pipe was so narrow she doubted she could have fit through it in tactical armor. For once, she appreciated how thin the I-Ops blacks were.

  “I’m coming, Dorian. Hang on.”

  The climb grew more difficult for a short distance, telling her she moved along an incline. It leveled off a few meters later when an end drifted within sight. Only the sound of her faint grunts and scuffing body accompanied her over the last thirty meters. What she thought was an end turned out to be an elbow which made a ninety-degree turn upward. She rolled on her back and dragged herself into a seated position, rocking back and forth to get her boots under her. Standing, she shifted around to face her original direction of travel and reached up to grab the bottom edge of the next section.

  A dam of crystallized muck crunched at her touch, resulting in cold, greasy slime dribbling onto her face. Her squeak, what bit of a scream escaped before she clamped her mouth closed, reverberated in two directions. She huddled to the forward wall, shivering as the substance slid over her hair and down her back. The scent of metal filled the air.

  At least it doesn’t stink like the sludge from the Beneath. She swallowed the urge to vomit from the sensation of touching it and pulled herself up. Once her hips cleared the edge, she leaned flat on her chest in the higher section. A boot to the wall propelled her forward, and she continued to crawl.

  “Twenty more meters.”

  Nina’s voice vibrating in her earbud made her jump. “Okay,” she whispered, voice quivering.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I guess I don’t like being trapped in tight spaces.”

  Nina grinned. “Who does?”

  Movement was more difficult in this portion of pipe. Whatever substance dribbled all over her lubricated it to the point where her hands slid more than pulled her along. After a laborious several minutes, the nauseating sound of Konstantin’s voice murmured through the metal above her.

  “Stop. No, back up six feet… There.”

  Kirsten shimmied around to lie on her back, biting her lip. “There’s nothing here, just pipe.” She could not sit up, turn around, or run away from danger.

  “Use the key I gave you.”

  “Duh.” Kirsten wiped the sweat from her face with her right sleeve.

  A hand on the Nano knife made her shiver. Sure, she had used a Nano-edged uti blade before, but the edge was tiny―barely two inches long―and encased in a protective shroud. It was meant to cut seat belts and rope. The sliver of transparent doom she stared through now was a good eleven inches of synthetic diamond. A military weapon of last resort―something the police weren’t even permitted to carry on Earth. I wonder if it’s really true the edge is only a single atom wide. Sounds like marketing bullshit. She stuck the tip in the pipe over her head and braced her left hand under the handle. Grunting, she shoved the blade up to the hilt through the half-inch thick metal.

  Holy shit.

  With extreme care, she pushed the knife forward. Stabbing proved far easier than cutting―at least, to someone of her strength. However, cut she did. She rocked the handle back and forth, inch by tedious inch. A surrealist’s impression of an oval fell onto her when she connected the line, pinning her under twenty pounds of plastisteel. Fortunately, her body muffled the sound of its descent. She propped up the slab with one hand while her other trembling arm put the combat knife back in the scabbard. As soon as a reassuring click said she was no longer in danger of sneezing and lopping off her own arm, she resumed breathing.

  Kirsten worked the cutout past her head, easing it down and pushing it out of her way. Squares of light gleamed above, some manner of grating. It blinded her until she released the astral sight. The urge to rub her eyes was strong, but the ooze all over her hands made her hesitate. Pale fingers threaded over the edges of the pipe above, and she pulled herself up through the hole. Sliding her boots underneath her, she squatted in a space just tall enough. Feet in the pipe, her hair teased at the underside of a metal grating. Now she understood why Nina had been so precise with her position.

  She was under a four-wheeled moon rover left over from when the installation was operational. Its shadow kept her out of sight in a drainage trench meant to catch spills or runoff fluids from vehicle maintenance. Judging by the discolored wall in front of her, she would have been neck-deep in lubricant years ago.

  Lifting a section of grate, she eased it to the side and slipped into the room with a belly crawl that took her out from under the rover and behind a mass of boxes covered in grey tarpaulin. Konstantin paced at the edge of the pentagram, orbiting a metal podium that held two datapads and some old papers. Gleaming light caught her eye amid the strange writing. The fist-sized violet gem lay at the center of the glyph, still pulsing.

  The gem didn’t show up on vid. That’s really weird.

  Energy surrounded it―the presence of souls. She could not help but stare, hearing whispery voices begging to be set free. Amid the wailing and crying, one stood out as different―cursing.

  Dorian.

  Kirsten almost leapt over the boxes, but hesitated as Nafiz approached bearing the black mask. She tugged her E-90 out of the holster and aimed. Shooting at Konstantin would go right through him and hit a dazed, black-haired woman dangling from a column. All of the hostages’ clothing had markings of Lunazoom, a trans-city tram system.

  Her hand shook, putting that wrinkled, awful face right in the ring-dot sight. Shit. Konstantin, you bastard, I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to me.

  “Mom, you should break Konstantin’s heart.”

  She scowled as Evan’s words echoed through her memory. Breaking his heart is the least of his worries now, kiddo. Come on, you piece of shit, one step to the left.

  Konstantin took the mask from Nafiz and held it aloft in both hands, chanting in some unknown language. The sight of his wrinkled skin burned red into Kirsten’s face, and she crept to the right in search of an angle. It did not chirp when the tip of her finger touched the trigger. She leaned to the right, finding the blue light no longer sliding up and down the barrel.

  I didn’t forget to charge the E-mag. God dammit. She squeezed the release and caught the dead Meissner-cell, trading it for one from her belt. Still dead. Oh, shit, whatever he’s doing is sucking power like Dorian can… just from everything. Fuck. It’s gotta be that gem. What did Kwadwó call it… the heart of Eannatum?

  Feelings of blind idiocy slapped her into an open-mouthed gawk. Break Konstantin’s heart… He didn’t mean love… Oh, no. He really is a precog. I can’t tell anyone. Elation and worry sparred. Wait, no, this involves me. It could still just be strong emotional clairvoyance. She clung to the edge of the pile, leaning around the side and staring at the glimmering jewel. Lightheadedness came on as her feeble telekinesis gathered itself around the sense of the stone’s weight. When Konstantin looked away to bow at Nafiz, Kirsten let a surge of psionic energy go. The gem swiveled in place, wobbled up on end, and fell toward her. She strained, and the huge rock came bouncing, rolling, and skittering across the floor into her hand.

  No sooner had she touched it than her head flooded with voices: two men wailing, two women screaming, and one man, Dorian, cursing. The emotions almost overwhelmed her, but she forced herself through it. Spectral winds whipped around her as if the Heart of Eannatum sensed her intent. Kirsten set the gem on the floor, bracing it
with her left hand. The E-90’s handle bounced off it. The sound of the strike echoed. Konstantin looked over. Nafiz snarled; fortunately, the electronic firing circuit in his pistol was as dead as her weapon.

  “Shit,” she rasped, dropping the laser and going for the Nano knife.

  Holding the blade in both hands, she raised it over her head. The unnatural wind whipped her hair into her eyes.

  “Nyet!” shouted Konstantin.

  She did not even look at him as she drove the tip into the wobbling violet rock. The blade glanced off, digging into the steel ground and sending the gem sliding away. Dammit, how do I break this―

  “You are too late,” howled Nafiz.

  Kirsten looked up in time to catch a fist in the nose. The hit knocked her flat to the side; warm blood dribbled over her lip. He yanked a short vibro knife from his belt and tossed it to his left hand. She rolled on her back, crab-walking toward the gem. Her eyes flashed bright white; Nafiz reeled as though shot in the head. Coppery blood dripped onto her tongue as numbness throbbed through her cheek.

  Nafiz wilted to his knees, staring into space. The mind blast left him swaying on his feet.

  “Do not kill her, Nafiz!” shouted Konstantin, before throwing a pair of metal restraints into the side of the man’s head. When it knocked him cold, he roared. “Clumsy fool!”

  Kirsten touched her face, staring at the blood on her fingers. The light came on in her head. Trembling with fear, she smeared it with extreme care over the side of the Nano knife. She concentrated; the red liquid flared to brilliant light and wisped off. With Nafiz out of it and Konstantin stomping toward her, she scrambled on all fours to the gem and drove the blade downward.

  A sharp crack preceded a roaring explosion. She left the knife stuck in the floor and crossed both arms over her face to shield herself from a gale of spirit energy that flung stinging gemstone shards at her.