by Jak Koke
Lucero had been a member of the Gestalt herseif and had participated in the blood spilling, in the blood sharing many, many times. But since she had been touched by the light, this seemed evil to her, a perversion of magic. To use life energy for such purposes was highly addictive and Lucero had succumbed to the lure of it. Only by hearing the beauty of the song, by witnessing the sheer goodness of the light had Lucero been able to see her own inner evil, the shadow on her heart that made her destroy innocent lives in order to achieve power and domination.
“It is important for you to remain strong, my child. The one who blocks the bridge is on the verge of defeat now that we’ve breached to the tip, and our allies across the Chasm have lent us their influence. This will be our final battle.”
Lucero shuddered.
When her bare foot touched the surface of the Locus, Lucero froze. Her knees buckled as a wave of electricity passed up through her until every nerve in her body exploded. She felt her consciousness sink into the stone, swallowed up by the geometric black hole. For a moment she thought she could sense the whole earth at once, a split second of perfect godlike awareness—she was part of a huge network of power, manalines and other Loci that spanned the planet.
Then it was gone, and Señor Oscuro was helping her to her feet. Her skin tingled as she entered the circle formed by the Gestalt members. “Lie down, my child,” said Oscuro. “Soon we will be together on the metaplanes.”
Lucero lay with her back against the cold, hard surface of the Locus and opened her robe as the Gestalt mages encircled her. Oscuro appeared above her with an acolyte in tow—the boy who had spoken to her earlier. There was a look of distracted satisfaction on the boy’s face—he was under magical hypnosis.
The boy’s look changed momentarily as Oscuro produced an obsidian knife and drew it across the boy’s throat in a well-practiced slash. Then he was dead, his warm, thick blood spilling over Lucero’s naked body, and his eyes going glassy in the far-off stare that she had seen too many times.
Oscuro threw the boy’s body aside and knelt down in the pool of blood. As the iron smell of it overwhelmed Lucero, she gritted her teeth and fought down the urge to taste it. Oscuro traced patterns over Lucero’s flesh and spoke under his breath in a language she didn’t know.
Then the sun was gone, replaced by the flat light of the astral sky. Lucero saw the Gestalt entity forming around them for an instant before Oscuro spoke again and they rode the column of power rising out of the Locus.
“Stand up, my child.” Oscuro’s voice held a tone of authority now.
Lucero stood up and looked around, nearly panicking from the sense of overwhelming horror that filled the area. It was a raver’s madness, a rapist’s glee that penetrated to the marrow of her bones.
The cold ground brought shivers to her, a mean, hard chill that dug into her and wouldn’t let go. The cracked rock beneath her feet was part of a giant outcropping that extended over a bottomless canyon. She could see the other side of the Chasm now, an impossible distance away. And she could sense the creatures there, moving in slow motion as they constructed an outcropping of their own. An arch that extended toward her.
They want to come across. If they are the tzitzimine, they will ravage the world. They bring apocalypse.
Lucero listened. She ached to hear what she knew must be there.
So faint was the music that she barely made it out over the sound of dead bodies coming to life as Oscuro waved his hand over them. Then she heard it, a song of such pure beauty that it either purged ugliness or destroyed it.
Help me, she prayed to the music. To the light that shone from the singer. Pure white brilliance that barely penetrated the wedge of blood and corpses that Oscuro had erected. It was the light that made the creatures move in slow motion.
Some of the zombie-corpses around her began to transform. Huge sharp bristles of spiny black hair popped out of their skin. Their legs and arms changed into furry tentacles, multiplying until they were four on either side of their now-hideous bodies. Their heads flattened and massive insect mandibles jutted from the base of their jaws as their eyes split and divided.
They cannot move when he is not here, Lucero realized. And he cannot be here without me.
Oscuro laughed. “We are ready to begin the final assault.”
If only I could leave so that he would have to stop. Suddenly the sky around her darkened, and Lucero felt a slippery chill slide over her spirit. An intense trepidation gripped her, and she could not move. She could not think.
There were eels in her mind.
Annihilation. Eternal suffering.
The song filtered through to her, the dim rays of light from the outside. Holding her sanity in brittle fingers. Balanced on the fragile edge. . . .
5
Ryan sat cross-legged in the garden courtyard behind Dunkelzahn’s mansion, relishing the scent of roses and freshly turned earth that filled the air around him. The heat of the sun against his closed eyelids. He still wore the corporate-style suit from his lunch with Nadja; he had made plans for dinner with her, but didn’t know whether she’d make it back in time. She was swamped with work.
His wristphone beeped, and he opened his eyes. It was Jane-in-the-box. He punched the Connect and her bubble blonde icon appeared, a big ruby smile on her lips.
“Hoi, Jane.”
“Quicksilver, I just worked out the final details with Nadja and Black Angel.”
Black Angel was the code name for Carla Brooks, former head of security of Dunkelzahn and current security chief for the Draco Foundation. “Good,” Ryan said. “Spill it.”
“Black Angel has put together a security team to take the suit of armor from Lake Louise to Washington, at which point, Assets Incorporated will take charge. The change of responsibility will take place at approximately 0500 tomorrow at National Airport. Assets will then transport the armor to the elf Harlequin at Chateau d’If.”
“Prime work, friend,” Ryan said.
“Dhin and Grind will bring a chopper to pick you up at 0330, which should give you enough time to load equipment and gear onto the jet. I’ve contacted Axler at Hells Canyon, and she’s flying up to Lake Louise. She’ll be on the plane with the merchandise when it arrives.”
“Any news on getting a new mage?”
Jane’s blonde head nodded. “I’ve made contact with a good one, but he’s cautious. I’m still waiting on final word from him.”
Ryan remembered Miranda, the mage who had died in the assault against Burnout on Pony Mountain. It seemed like months ago even though it had been only two days. Miranda had been a good mage and a friend.
He looked at Jane. "Tell me about this mage.”
Jane laughed. “You worried we’re hiring another redshirt?”
“Assets hasn’t had the best of luck with magical backup.”
“His name is Talon, and he’s been doing runs for me through a Seattle fixer named Spanner. He’s very competent and will make a good addition to Assets.” Jane paused. “If we can keep him alive.”
Ryan chuckled. “He’ll have to attend to that himself,” he said. “When can I meet him?”
“With luck, he’ll come with Axler. You can meet him then, and get to know him better on the flight to France.”
Ryan sighed. He hated bringing runners in at the last minute, though he supposed it couldn’t be helped this time. They needed a mage, especially since they’d be dealing with Harlequin, rumored to be a powerful master of arcane energies.
We need a good magician, he thought. And a lot of luck.
“Thanks, Jane,” Ryan said. “I am in awe of your abilities.”
Jane smiled, her Matrix icon’s hand waving at her face in a mock attempt at cooling off. “Flattery will get you anything you want, big boy,” she said. Then she thrust her breasts forward—huge, gravity-defying flesh barely contained in a lacy black bra.
Ryan laughed and cut the connection.
Nadja didn’t make it back in time for dinne
r, which saddened Ryan a bit even though he knew she was carrying on the truly important long-term plans Dunkelzahn had left behind. Ryan didn’t know what those plans were, and didn’t much want to know. He was a soldier and a spy, not a general or an administrator.
Ryan ate alone and went to bed early.
He woke from a dream about Nadja to find her climbing into bed with him. Into his arms. Naked and flushed. She kissed him, her dark, soft hair falling over his chest as she ran her lips along his body. As she worked her way up to his mouth.
In the dim light of the moon coming through the slats of the miniblinds, she nibbled on his lower lip. She tasted faintly of mint. He drank in the warm smell of her, gazed into the glistening darkness of her eyes as she straddled him.
They made love, long and slow. Unwilling to let go of each other.
Until finally Nadja collapsed from exhaustion and release. She fell into a deep sleep.
The clock read 0315. Dhin and Grind would arrive in fifteen minutes.
Ryan slipped out of bed and dressed in the dark, utterly quiet so as not to wake Nadja.
He kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, my love,” he said. Then he picked up his gear bag and stepped out into the night.
6
Jane-in-the-box stood up from her decking recliner and stretched, massaging the back of her head where the fiberoptic lines had rubbed a callus. Jane’s six datajacks at the base of her skull were covered with a retractable plastic static window, but the input cords still chafed the skin around the area when she was jacked in for long periods of time.
Jane spent most of her existence in virtual reality. It was a necessary element of her profession as decker for the now-deceased great dragon. Jane missed the wyrm even though she’d been mortally afraid of him. During Matrix runs, she’d had to resign herself to the telepathic link with Dunkelzahn. It was a level of surrender she'd never liked.
Jane hated being out of control.
Still, Dunkelzahn had been very good to her. He had personally pulled her from her duties in the VisionQuest programming think tank, and had given her a lab in the lair with a huge budget. He had fostered her interest in Matrix hardware and had allowed her to build her own private network of decks and hosts right here in Cyberlair, as she called it. Working for an ultra-rich great dragon had its bennies, especially when the dragon was a technology freak.
Now she stretched again and stepped away from her console. Cyberlair was a huge cavern of cut stone situated under the Canadian Rockies near Lake Louise in the Athabaskan Council. The massive doors at one end had made it possible for the dragon to enter from the adjoining corridor without changing shape. The decks and hosts around Jane’s console sat on a low marble dais opposite the main entrance.
The cavern was illuminated with track lighting bolted to the stone walls and ceiling high above. It was a dull-looking place compared to the Matrix. Perhaps Jane would have some art brought in, ask Nadja if she could commission some remodeling.
She noticed that Enrico, the lair’s troll chef, had left a soybeef sandwich au jus on the small table adjacent to her console. She was sure it was cold by now, but the smell of it permeated the room and made her stomach grumble. Too often, she forgot to eat.
She sat down and bit into the sandwich just as her deck beeped to indicate an incoming telecom call. She looked over to the terminal screen and saw that the call came from the Assets system and showed Axler’s decryption code. Finally, she thought. It's about time.
Jane took another quick bite and stood. She stepped back over to her console and eased into her chair, snapping the six-jack multi-plug into the six datajacks at the back of her skull. The cavern dissipated as the virtual space of the command center materialized in her awareness.
A square-shaped room with riveted stainless steel walls surrounded her. Six sides of computer-generated reality, each face representing one of her datajacks. Each representing a connection, a channel to another world to which she could instantly switch. A die-shaped virtual gateway created by her network of cyberdecks and hosts.
The feeling in her physical body gave way to the imposed signals from her box, provided by her MPCP—Master Persona Control Program.
During runs, five of the steel faces displayed head-camera images and statistical data, four of them live feeds from members of Assets Incorporated—Axler, Dhin, Grind, and Ryan Mercury. No headcam image came from Ryan, but Jane got real-time vital stats through his wrist-phone. The fifth face, below her, took the form of a shining gold door, the gateway from her private virtual space to the Matrix—the electronic universe of the world-spanning computer network.
Jane popped into her blonde-bimbo persona and plunged through the gateway and into the Matrix, activating a routine trace as she answered the incoming telecom call. Just to double-check that the Assets anti-trace evasion utility was working properly.
Axler’s face hovered in cyperspace, her thin blonde hair framing a pale visage. Doe brown eyes that could be so soft, if she would let them. Her stare was as purposely cold and hard as always.
“I’m here,” said Jane.
Axler regarded Jane’s ridiculous persona without expression. “The new mage, Talon, has arrived,” she said. “We’re ready for your briefing.”
Jane nodded. “Very well.”
With a quick motion, Jane activated her Assets command-room-linkage, which set up a highly secure communications protocol between them both. It manifested in her virtual reality as a bleb of cyberspace that was a Matrix replica of the command room.
The Assets compound was physically located on the eastern rim of Hells Canyon, but the holographic cameras in the command room fed data to Jane's hosts and gave her a nearly complete picture. The room was a large cavern with a massive oval table in the center that had seating for fifty. Only two chairs were taken, one occupied by Axler, her toned body in an erect posture, ready to move. She was a combat expert, an accomplished mercenary of the highest caliber.
In the other chair sat a young human male with shoulder-length brown hair and white skin. He was of average height and build, though his brown eyes held a glimmer of intelligence. This was Talon, by reputation a man of far better-than-average skill with the arcane.
Unbeknownst to Talon, Jane had hired him for several runs. She had followed his progress and he had performed excellently. Very professional, if somewhat smart-hooped. Just enough edge to stay alive in the shadows for quite awhile. He was as ready for induction into Assets as any mage she knew.
The hologenerators came to life, and Jane’s persona appeared in one of the chairs. “Welcome to Assets Incorporated, Talon. I am called Jane-in-the-box.”
“Good to meet you, Jane-in-the-box.”
“You can call me Jane.”
“Okay, Jane. I’ve flown out here, wherever it is, in the middle of the night because my fixer assured me you could be trusted. He said I would want to work with you. That it would be lucrative.”
“Talon, all that is true. Allow me to explain.”
Talon inclined his head.
“Assets is a corporation of shadowrunners. We screen those who join very carefully so that we can place some amount of trust in them.”
“Is there any trust left in the world? I’ve seen slotting little of it, especially among shadowrunners.”
Jane laughed. “True,” she said. “We are different. We have independent funding so we don’t have to work for Mister Johnsons. We don’t take runs from corporations. Or should I say, we work for only one corporation, but we have a lot of say about which runs are done and how.”
“Which corporation?”
“You’ve heard of the Draco Foundation?”
Talon sucked air through his teeth. “Who hasn’t?”
“Those who run with Assets run for no one else. We take good care of our own. We run because we want to change the world for the better. We’re trying to restore the balance. Idealistic drek, neh?”
“No,” Talon said. “I read Dunkelzahn’s Will. I th
ink the Draco Foundation might be able to make a difference. If it’s guided by plans that were left by Dunkelzahn.”
“We’d like you to do one run with us,” Jane said. “It pays well, but it will take several days, requires you to leave the country, and could be very dangerous.”
“What’s the scan?”
“Axler will fill you in on the way. Basically, the job is security for an item being delivered. You and Axler will pick up the item and the first security force, then travel with them to Washington FDC, where the rest of the Assets team will replace the sec force. Axler is in charge until then, at which point command will be transferred to Quicksilver.”
Talon shifted in his chair. “Who?”
“Quicksilver is a physical adept,” Jane said. “He inherited Assets, Inc. from Dunkelzahn and is one of the best undercover ops in the world.”
Axler swung her new cyberarm to exercise it. She had lost her arm a few days ago in the fight with Burnout and a powerful bear shaman on Pony Mountain. “Time is short, Talon. Are you in?”
Talon shrugged. “I’m intrigued,” he said. “Enough to do this run with you. If, after that, you want me and I want you, I’ll join Assets.”
Jane laughed. “Well said. Mister Cautious. Well said.”
“Welcome aboard,” Axler said. “Now, here’s how we operate. We have a standard military-style command structure. It may not be what you’re used to, but it works. We use top-of-the-line equipment and armament, all provided by Assets.”
Jane interrupted. “You need to leave ASAP,” she said. “In order to make it to Lake Louise on time.”
“Copy,” Axler said. “We’ll be there.”
Jane nodded. “I’ll be monitoring you. Talon, I’d like you to wear a microcam and transmitter. It’ll make it a lot easier to keep track of you.”
“I’ll wear one,” Talon said. “As long as you guarantee that no one else will be able to pinpoint me with it.”
“Not while it’s on my system,” Jane said. “The Phillips tacticom units we use route through the temporary LTGs and teleporting System Access Nodes I’ve set up in the Matrix. So far nobody’s even tapped into our communications, let alone deciphered the encryption.”
