by Jak Koke
Talon gave her an open-jawed stare, then snapped back to his faked nonchalance. “I guess that’ll do,” he said, acting like this sort of offer came his way every day.
“Excellent,” she said, then she faded her icon out and moved out of the Matrix and into the brushed steel space of her box. Taion was online. Jane liked him; liked his caution and dry wit. She just hoped he could handle the magical tasks of this run.
Frag, she thought, we’re going into the home of an old and powerful associate of Dunkelzahn. If Harlequin decides to fry us, no street mage born in this world will be able to stop him.
24 August 2057
7
Ryan felt the take-off acceleration push him back against the cushions of the Draco Foundation Lear-Cessna Platinum III jet as it lifted off the National Airport runway. He took several calming breaths and touched the Dragon Heart strapped to his gut just to reassure himself that it was still there.
The transfer of security had passed smoothly as Ryan, Dhin, and Grind had replaced three of the Draco Foundation sec personnel assigned to the jet by Carla Brooks. Axler and the new mage, Talon, had stayed aboard.
Ryan’s plan was a testament to simplicity and having friends in the right places. And so far it had worked brilliantly.
So far.
Seeing Harlequin was a gamble, Ryan knew. If the elf was as powerful as Dunkelzahn’s messenger spirit had implied, the elf might simply take the heart from Ryan. What could I do to stop him ?
Ryan looked over at Talon, who sat facing him. With his brown hair and plain brown eyes, the human was perhaps the least striking mage Ryan had worked with. He looked like a mundane, which, Ryan suspected, worked to Talon’s advantage.
“Talon,” Ryan said. “How much has Axler told you of our mission?”
Talon regarded Ryan with cautious scrutiny. His skin was very white, in sharp contrast to the cobalt blue Draco Foundation uniform he wore over his flexible body armor, and his shoulder-length hair was pulled into a ponytail. “Some,” he said. “But not enough. I expected to be fully briefed enroute.”
Ryan shifted in his own body armor and uniform, flexing his neck to work out some kinks. “As soon as Dhin gets us up to cruising altitude,” he said, “we’ll get Jane-in-the-box online, and discuss the run.”
Next to Talon, sat a black dwarf named Grind. The dwarf had two cyberarms made of a matte gray-black composite—light and extremely strong. Ryan knew Grind also had a third articulated arm, hidden under the heavy uniform coat, which extended from the dwarf’s chest.
Grind watched the exchange between Ryan and Talon with mild interest, nodding at Ryan’s last statement. Grind would speak up later during the discussion of tactics or security. He was a experienced mercenary and could handle nearly any weapon that wasn’t too big for his stature.
Axler sat on Ryan’s right. She was his lieutenant, second-in-command for Assets and the finest field commander for this kind of small team, special-forces type combat that he’d had the pleasure of working with.
On the surface, Axler looked like blonde sweetmeat with frag-me doe brown eyes—a real mantrap. Underneath, though, she was a deadly blend of cyber and flesh; none of her cyberware showed, except perhaps in her ultra-chill demeanor. Axler could be frostier than anyone Ryan had met.
His Assets team was all present—Grind, Axler, Dhin in the cockpit, and Jane in the Matrix. Ryan hoped the new mage lasted longer than the previous two. Assets didn’t have a good track record keeping spellworms alive.
“Talon,” Ryan said. “You scanned my aura when we met back at the airport?”
The mage nodded.
“What did you see?”
“A mundane human,” Talon said. “I know that you’re a physical adept, so I assume you’re masking your aura to make yourself look mundane.”
Ryan nodded. “What else?”
“You’re carrying some sort of power focus that you can’t mask completely.”
“The Dragon Heart,” Ryan said.
“I’ve never known any physads who could use a power focus.” Talon said.
“This item is unique.”
Talon nodded. “Still, it may make you and the team vulnerable to astral attacks.”
“Perhaps, but I doubt it. The Heart has its own protection.” Ryan paused, giving Talon a moment to ponder. “As you might have surmised, our mission doesn’t involve the suit of armor we loaded into the cargo hold. That is only peripheral to our goal.”
“What then?”
“Our true mission involves the Dragon Heart,” Ryan said. “I want to enlist the help of the elf mage—Harlequin. He knows the ritual that will take me and the Heart across to the metaplanes.”
Talon looked dubious. “I didn’t think it was possible for a non-initiate mage to cross into the metaplanes.”
“Dunkelzahn believed it was.”
“Yes,” Talon said. “And maybe he could have done it, but unless you plan on asking Lofwyr—”
“I don’t think Lofwyr would agree to help us,” Ryan said.
“I was kidding.”
Ryan smiled. “So was I.” he said. “But the fact remains that Dunkelzahn told me that Harlequin could perform the necessary magic. If he is willing to help, it may be as simple as explaining the situation to him. If not, we might have to pay or convince him somehow. In either case, it will be up to me.
“The problem will arise if he decides not to help, and that he wants the Dragon Heart for himself. He’s rumored to be extremely powerful. I’m not sure I can keep the Dragon Heart from him.”
“And you want me to think of something,” Talon said. Ryan nodded. “Jane said you were good.”
Talon laughed. “I’m not sure I’m glad she thinks so.” Ryan joined in the laughter. He liked this mage.
Dhin’s voice came over the speakers. “We’ve reached our cruising altitude of seven thousand meters,” he said. “Feel free to move about the cabin, but remember to avoid using firearms or high-explosives during the flight.” The ork’s chuckle sounded eerie through the electronic modulation of the rigger interface. “Such devices may cause a sudden change in cabin pressure.”
Ryan stood up immediately and stretched his muscles. “Jane, you online?”
"I’m here,” came her bubbly voice. “And I come bearing gifts—schematics and data.”
“My hero,” said Ryan.
Grind and Axler stood and paced about the small cabin, working out the kinks. “Anyone want soykaf?” came Grind’s gruff voice.
Everyone did, so he made an entire pot. Ten minutes later, when the entire crew was ready, Ryan started the briefing.
“Jane,” he said, “give me the satellite images of Chateau d’If.”
A flat screen in a dividing wall powered up, showing an aerial view of a small island. The image was out of focus and distorted. “There’s some sort of permanent shimmer that keeps fragging up the resolution,” Jane said. “This is the best I can do.”
Tan-colored rock formed a wall around the entire isle so that any sort of assault from the sea would be nigh to impossible. There was no beach, only sheer walls jutting fifteen meters straight up from the pounding surf. The only boat landing was a narrow wooden dock that led into a small cave in the rock.
Ryan noticed what looked like a helipad sitting next to a few squat buildings. About thirty meters from the helipad was the old prison itself—a huge stone structure consisting of three cylindrical towers of different diameters. The towers were connected by high walls, forming a courtyard inside. This part of the building was covered with what appeared to be modern macroglass, and shielded with a mirror coating so that the sat image couldn’t show the inside.
Another rock wall, three meters high this time, cut across the island, separating the castle from the rest of the buildings. The rear of the old prison shared the outer seawall with the perimeter. Ryan couldn’t see enough detail to tell if Harlequin had installed any sort of modern defense system.
“Jane, you got any d
ata on security—cameras, track drones, that sort of drek?”
“Unfortunately not, Quicksilver. I think he’s got some of that, but it might be isolated from the Matrix.”
“Frag,” said Grind. “I’d hate to have to assault this place.”
Ryan smiled. “That’s why we’re taking the easy way in. We’ll come over from Marseilles in a chopper. Harlequin is expecting a delivery, and he has to sign for his inheritance. If all goes well, I’ll simply talk to him then. We only need to prepare for his response.
“If he decides to help us, then all this prep will have been only for practice. But it’s just possible that Mister H was involved in the assassination of Dunkelzahn, and he could perceive us as a threat. If he decides to waste us, we need a plan of escape. And we need a way to keep him from taking the Dragon Heart. Any suggestions?”
Axler stepped up to the screen. “We should conduct all negotiations in this area, outside the castle walls. And we should have a second mode of transport, perhaps a boat or a scuba sled.”
Ryan nodded. “Good thinking. Jane, can you arrange for scuba gear and three scuba sleds?”
“Consider it fait accompli.”
“Nice French.”
“Merci. ”
Ryan looked at the dwarf samurai. “Grind, you and Axler will pilot the sleds to this location with the extra gear for Talon and Dhin and me. Plan Beta will involve escape over the side and under water. We’ll also need a boat or a T-bird to pick us up.”
“I’ll get a safe house set up in Marseilles,” Jane said.
“Great,” Ryan said. “Now let’s go over the details again.”
The flight went quickly as they worked the plan over and over. Ryan was satisfied, his confidence high as they began their descent into Marseilles. And it stayed that way as they transferred the cargo to the waiting helicopter.
Ryan put on his Phillips tacticom unit, sliding the tiny ear piece into his right ear and taping the thin wire microphone to his throat with mimetic tape. Axler and Grind went off to gather the scuba equipment and begin the underwater trip out to the island of Chateau d’If. It would take them a couple of hours to get there. That gave Ryan and the others plenty of time to prepare for meeting Harlequin.
Too much time perhaps. Idle time to think about the consequences of failure.
The fate of the world rests on my ability to convince this elf to help me. I cannot fail.
8
The spirit Lethe looked at the astral images of the technicians and mages hovering over Billy’s cybernetic body. Billy was asleep; they had done that with their drugs and machines. But they couldn’t put Lethe to sleep.
Billy’s body was flat on its back again, paralyzed and strapped to another operating table, this one at a cybermancy clinic somewhere in the heart of Aztlan. Lethe knew of cybermancy from Billy. Cybermancy had created Burnout—the creature who Billy Madson had become after his magic was lost and his body had been replaced by synthetic materials, hydraulic muscles, and electronic nerves. All that remained of the original Billy was part of his brain and spinal cord.
Cybermancy is also what had trapped Lethe. Intricate blood magic had been used on Burnout to prevent his spirit from leaving his body. Powerful spells had been quickened to make them permanent. These spells formed a mesh of magic that held spirits in, and when Lethe had taken possession of Burnout to prevent him from harming the Dragon Heart, he discovered that he could not escape. Soon after, his spirit had become intertwined with that of the cyberzombie.
Burnout, however, was gone. Lethe wanted to believe that he had influenced the change in the cyberzombie, but he had to admit that Burnout’s change into Billy had occurred when Ryan Mercury had nearly killed them both. Unable to escape. Burnout’s spirit had suffered severe trauma, leaving only the naive Billy.
Lethe liked the change. Billy was young and full of hope. Lethe’s natural state was pure spirit, but he had grown accustomed to inhabiting Billy’s body. It was as though the cyberzombie’s body belonged just as much to Lethe as it did to Billy—a physical manifestation that they shared.
Technicians worked diligently to fix and replace their damaged parts. New skin was being grown and applied; a new articulated arm had been attached to replace the one Ryan Mercury had broken. Burnout’s extendible fingers were replaced, his integrated gyromount. Everything was being made new.
Everything physical that is. The mages couldn’t seem to figure out what had happened to the cyberzombie’s spirit.
Two mages examined him in astral space, scrutinizing his aura, which Lethe had tried to mask to look like a mundane human with lots of cyberware. These were sophisticated mages, however, and they saw through some of Lethe’s masking. He was sure they could tell that Burnout was not a typical cyberzombie.
“What do you make of it, Meyer?” asked one. In astral space, Lethe understood the meaning of their words, though he couldn’t actually hear what they were saying. Billy’s ears had been deactivated.
The one called Meyer was an elf with the aura of a powerful initiate. “It is beyond my experience,” he said. “All the cybermantic magic is fused with his spirit, and . . .” Lethe noticed recognition dawning in the elf. “I think he can see us, Vendic.”
“What?” Vendic said. “That’s impossible. He’s unconscious.”
“I mean astrally.”
Vendic laughed. “You’ve been working too hard, Meyer. Even if he were awake, cyberzombies can’t use magic.”
Meyer glared at Vendic. “Something has happened to this one. I want to—”
“Sir,” said a technician, entering the room. “You have a telecom call.”
Meyer nodded to her. “Thank you. I’ll take it here.” The elf walked over to a device on the wall and touched it.
“Mister Roxborough,” Meyer said. “What can I do for you?”
Lethe couldn’t make out the reply. Being electronic in nature, it did not register in astral space.
“A security breach?” Meyer said. “I was not aware of anything since the Ryan Mercury escape.”
The mage paused while the other spoke.
“Certainly, Mister Roxborough,” Meyer said with a heavy sigh. “I will check the datastore immediately, but I don’t see how it could have been wiped. The spirit-transfer material was protected by the best ice we have.”
Pause. Meyer shook his head in irritation, but his voice gave nothing away.
“Of course I know about Reise’s transfer, sir. You authorized it yourself. Frankly, I thought it a bit rash. She is the only scientist who can perform the viral memory reconstruction. It’ll take years to replace her. I—”
Meyer was interrupted. He stood rigid, anger building inside him, though Lethe saw a hint of amusement there as well.
“No, sir, I don’t know any Alice. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Lethe tried to use Billy’s ears to hear what Roxborough was saying, but he failed. Even Billy’s connection to his senses seemed to be severed.
“Yes, Mister Roxborough,” Meyer said. “I will begin an investigation, and I am sorry about what you have gone through, but there is a more immediate problem concerning the recovered cyberzombie, Burnout.”
Pause.
“Yes, the techs have repaired the damage done to him.
Physically he’s like new, perhaps better than before, but he’s been through something. His aura is disturbingly human, too much so for a cyberzombie. He’s not exhibiting the polluting effects normally associated with cybermancy.”
Meyer listened.
“I suppose it’s good, but I don’t have an explanation for it yet. I don’t like it when I can’t explain what’s happening. Makes me nervous.”
Pause.
“I don’t know how much time. Perhaps a day, perhaps a—”
Interruption. Meyer waited, listening carefully. Then, “Very well. I will travel to San Marcos with the cyberzombie. I’ve always wanted to meet the mysterious Señor Oscuro. We’ll fi
gure this out together.” He punched the Disconnect.
Lethe watched Meyer turn and look at him, scrutinizing his aura. “I know you’re watching,” he said. “But soon, with Darke’s help, I will dissect you. Carve you up astrally until I’ve got you under control again.”
Lethe said nothing, merely watched the mage intently, and hoped that Billy would soon awaken. He missed Billy. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Lethe felt very, very much alone.
9
Ryan stood on the tarmac of the small airfield where they had landed, just outside Marseilles. He smelled the clean salt Mediterranean air, and leaned against the open door of the rented helicopter, double-checking his gear. His cobalt blue Draco Foundation uniform with its integrated body armor fit him snugly, though it was a little hot in the summer sun. His bandoleer of narcotic darts and his two guns rested in their proper positions. The Dragon Heart was nestled snugly in its sash.
He was as ready as he could be.
Jane’s voice sounded in Ryan’s ear piece. “Axler and Grind have made excellent progress with the scuba sleds. They’re five minutes from the island. No problems so far.”
“Copy, Jane,” Ryan subvocalized into his tacticom mic. He climbed into the copilot’s seat and strapped himself in. The Hughes Aerospace Airstar 2057 chopper was brand-new and in excellent condition, but it was more of a commuter vehicle for corporate executives than an attack copter.
Ryan looked back to make sure Talon was ready, then he glanced at Dhin in the pilot’s seat. “Take us up,” he said.
The whine of the rotors grew in pitch as the helo took flight, and soon they were skimming out across the blue Mediterranean, heading for the small prison island. Chateau d'If loomed up before them like an ancient Alcatraz. A castle of old, brown masonry rising directly from the surf.
Ryan saw the image waver as though he was seeing it through a heat haze. “I guess that’s the permanent shimmer Jane was talking about,” he said. “Talon, what do you make of it?”
