by Jak Koke
There was a pause while Jane contemplated. “Frag,” she said. Then, “Lethe should still be with Burnout.”
“You got any leads on where they took him?”
Jane sighed. “My smartframes tracked the helos to the Aztechnology arcology in Atlanta, but I haven’t had the spare cycles to try and deck into their hosts to see if I can get anything more. My assumption would be that they’d eventually ship him back to the home country, but we’re dealing with a megacorp. Anything is possible.”
Ryan shook his head. “I guess I should’ve planned that run into Aztlan.”
“I’ll find him, Quicksilver. How many spirit-possessed cyberzombies are there? He’s hard to hide.”
Ryan smiled. “Thanks, Jane. It’s more crucial than you know.”
“On it now.” She disconnected.
Abruptly, Talon sat up and shook his head. Foster did not move.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to find him,” he said. “We went to the bridge. Foster knew the way since she’s been there before. But there was no sign of him there, and we were about to be attacked.”
Talon shuddered. “That place is evil,” he said. “I never thought I’d say that about anything. I’d always thought there was no such thing as good and evil, no such inherent absolutes. But if evil exists. I’ve felt it now.”
“Why isn’t Foster awake?” Ryan asked.
“She knows him better than I do. She had little hope, but wanted to search some other places anyway.”
Ryan nodded. “Thanks, Talon.”
“I’d like to help her,” Talon said. “She’s desperate to find him.”
“No,” Ryan said. “I may need you awake in case Aztechnology sends people after us. But I know someone else who might be able to help Harlequin.”
Talon nodded, then stood up and stretched.
Ryan lifted his wristphone and punched in Nadja’s private LTG number. He touched the Connect and waited a few seconds while it rang on Nadja’s end. It was extremely early in the AM in Washington.
When she answered, the video was blanked. “Hello?”
“Sorry to wake you, my love,” Ryan said. “But this is of the utmost importance.”
“Ryan, are you all right?” The concern in her voice touched a chord in his heart.
“I’m fine, but Harlequin may be on the verge of death. I need you to contact his friend Aina. She may be the only one powerful enough to save him.”
The video came to life on the wristphone’s tiny flat-screen. Nadja smiled, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. It was mussed from sleep, a rat’s nest of dark strands. “I’ll do it immediately,” she said.
Ryan nodded. “Thank you.”
As she disconnected, Ryan turned to look at Harlequin’s lifeless body. I hope Aina gets here in time, he thought. Even if I can find Lethe, it's going to be a lot harder to stop Darke without Harlequin.
Perhaps impossible.
22
The first pink strands of sunlight brushed the underbellies of the scattered clouds above the San Marcos teocalli. Lucero knelt on the hard, electric surface of the Locus and watched the lightening sky. All hope gone. Sapped from her like body heat through a wet blanket.
Leaving her shivering. Feeling desperate and alone, despite the bustle of activity all around her.
Deep, resonant drums sounded in the hillside above the lake now. The musicians in the trees around the old amusement park tower were dressed like jungle natives. Body paints on bare chests, feathers and headdresses. Loin cloths and leather sandals.
The drumbeat formed a musical tapestry to the ritual that Señor Oscuro and the Blood Mage Gestalt performed around her. The ritual drew the crowd of thousands closer, mesmerizing them with magical hypnosis.
They came like sheep.
In the aftermath of the cyberzombie’s attack, Oscuro had traveled back to the metaplanes. And he had gone alone this time, for with Thayla gone, he had no need of Lucero. He left her in the custody of Jaguar Guards and was gone for some time before standing again in his physical body, ordering the guards to bring her onto the Locus.
Now she knelt in the center of the Gestalt, Oscuro standing next to her as the thousands pushed in closer and closer. The morning wind was cool against her shaved scalp as she waited for what was about to happen. Death, or perhaps something worse.
Is he putting me on display? she wondered.
“Stand, my child,” Oscuro said, his voice barely audible over the loud rhythmic pounding of the drums.
Lucero stood. Her power had grown from the exposure to Thayla’s magic, and she knew that she was stronger than she had ever been. She would no longer succumb to the addiction of the blood. Perhaps Thayla had redeemed her after all.
Oscuro’s dark eyes bored into her. “You will go down in history,” he said. “It is because of you that I was able to penetrate the defenses of those who wish to keep us separated from our rightful destiny. It is because of your balance, your love for beauty, and your desire for power. It is your greatest strength and your most dire weakness.”
The crowd around was enthralled by his words, which, Lucero realized, they must be able to hear despite the drums. For their eyes had glazed over, their expressions vacant. Hypnotized.
“And now,” Oscuro continued, “You have one final duty.” The dark man produced a ceremonial sword from under his robe. A macauitl—razor-sharp and designed for ritual sacrifices.
He’s going to kill me, she thought. And he will use my spilled blood to lengthen the bridge. To shorten the gap to the tzitzimine.
The drums accelerated their pace, echoing like a staccato heartbeat in the valley around her. The Gestalt started to chant, a lamenting praise in long minor tones that sent waves of power up from the Locus and into Lucero's body.
She tried to run, but her feet did not move. Anchored by magic into the giant gemstone.
“You should be proud of your sacrifice, my child. Your spirit will serve me yet.”
The blade flashed red in the early morning sun as it arced toward her. Magic forced rigor upon her body, thrusting her chest out, arching her back. The sword came down.
Drums, chanting.
The macauitl entered her just below the sternum.
Intense pain.
It sliced through her flesh, cutting her open to the crotch.
A fountain of agony.
Blood and intestines burst from the split in her. Gushing out of her—an eruption of veins and membranes.
Gone were the drums. The crowd. The temple. Everything reddened out from the screaming pain that exploded over her.
She fell onto the stone, landing in a pile of her own innards.
Dead.
The pain followed her beyond the pale. Her spirit writhed in agony as it ascended from her eviscerated body, slipping completely into astral space. The pain coalesced inside her as she hung there, surrounded by the vast astral presence of the Gestalt entity.
The final moment of her life stretched on inside her spirit—a moment of sheer torture. Abject terror and ultimate physical pain. It was all she was now. All she would ever be.
23
Ryan walked the perimeter of the island, trying to think through the situation. He had passed the whole night in the metaplanes, fighting for his life. For Thayla’s life. After all that time in the metaplanes, out of his body, he felt disoriented. Out of synch with his physical existence.
Surf pounded the rocks below the wall, sending ocean spray shooting into the air. The noon sun shone through the water droplets, turning each one into a tiny prism. A rainbow hanging momentarily on the interface between water and atmosphere.
At another time, Ryan would have allowed himself to appreciate the beauty of this ancient place. But now. . . .
Now he waited on Jane and Nadja and Foster.
Jane to find Burnout and Lethe. Nadja to contact Aina. Foster to retrieve Harlequin.
Ryan felt confidence return as he focused on his physical nature, the fountainhea
d of his magic. As he strode the wall, he made brief contact with Raven and Starfish, the two runners who guarded the perimeter. Raven, the black human samurai, merely nodded as Ryan walked past.
Starfish was perhaps the opposite. She was the one who had challenged him—a hothead, itching for something to happen, not at all happy to report that there was no sign of activity.
Ryan had half a mind to kick her hoop just to regain his focus. Astral travel was the antithesis of what it meant to be a physical adept, to be in tune with the body. Physicality.
Ryan pushed the temptation from his mind. He couldn’t afford a sparring match now. And he didn’t want to disgrace anyone. Both Raven and Starfish held themselves with confidence, and they seemed to know how to handle themselves. According to Jane, Cluster and his team were top-notch, consummate professionals.
His wristphone beeped as he rounded a corner of the sea wall. Ryan stopped a good distance from the others and punched the Connect. “Go ahead.”
Jane’s huge smile filled the tiny screen. Her ruby lips pouting. “I was right,” she said. “They took Burnout to Aztlan. The helos only stopped in Atlanta to refuel.”
“Where did they go?”
“Your favorite place—Roxborough’s delta clinic in Panama.”
Ryan sighed. He did not have fond memories of that place. Thomas Roxborough was a vatcase megalomaniac who had developed a procedure for mapping his personality over someone else’s. Ryan had been one of his test subjects, had almost become Roxborough.
“I decked into Rox’s system,” Jane said, her voice resonant with pride. Ryan knew that was no small accomplishment. “Burnout was only there to be repaired. According to my scan, and the vid I’ve seen, he’s as good as new.”
“That shouldn’t concern us,” Ryan said. “As long as Lethe is still inside him.”
Jane’s blonde curls dipped forward. “The tech notes I saw explained that they moved last night. There were some anomalies with the cybermantic magic so they transported him to San Marcos, just south of the Aztlan-CAS border.” Ryan shivered. “I’ve been there.”
“At least we know Lethe’s probably still inside,” Jane said.
“True,” Ryan said, feeling the cool salt breeze through his hair. “You got a fix on where they’re keeping him?”
Jane nodded.
“Where?” he asked.
“He’s being held in the teocalli. I haven’t decked into the temple’s system yet, but I got some vid from the external sec cameras. A few hours ago, he escaped and tried to take on practically the whole Azzie army. He geeked a lot of them before they shut him down and carried him inside.”
Ryan steeled himself against the memories of his last time in San Marcos, latched to the ancient amusement park tower. Staring down at the underwater excavation of the Locus, its primal black surface emerging through the silt and mud. “There’s a heavily guarded dig there,” he said.
He’d reported to Dunkelzahn that night, as ordered. Just before the assassination. His transmission had been picked up somehow by the Azzie security team around the site. Ryan had dropped, sliding the hundred meters down the ladder like a droplet of black oil. Falling along the side of the old rusty needle as the rhythmic thunder of the helo’s blades grew louder and louder.
They had captured him, beaten him, and given him to Roxborough for experimentation. All in all, Ryan thought, not one of my most cherished experiences. He gave a sharp laugh.
“I’m not going to downplay the situation, Quicksilver,” Jane said. “If anything, it’s gotten worse than when you were there undercover. Something major is going down. I had to do some fancy decking just to get inside their local grid.”
“Give me a guess as to what’s going down.”
“Frag if I know, Quicksilver. Thousands of people have gathered around the teocalli and the dig site. One thing’s mighty certain. It’s not the prime place for a discreet run.”
“Noted, Jane,” Ryan said. “But we’ve got no choice. I need Lethe now. He’s somehow tied into what’s going on at the Locus dig. And so am I. We must get Harlequin, Lethe, and the Dragon Heart all together, and it needs to happen soon or the whole world will suffer.”
“Doesn’t sound like you, Quicksilver. Talking doom and gloom, end-of-fragging-world drek.”
Ryan smiled. “Maybe not, Jane, but Dunkelzahn told me at the beginning that this mission was for the survival of metahumanity. And I know what I felt in the metaplanes—dread, Jane. Dread and horror like I’ve never experienced in my life. Fear, too.”
“Coming from you, Quicksilver, that scares me.”
“It should, Jane. How would you like to live out your days as a tortured corporate citizen of Aztechnology? Perhaps controlled by creatures so alien that they live off pain and suffering.”
“I’ll put together a composite of the data I’ve gathered from San Marcos,” Jane said. “We can run when you’re ready.”
“Good. If Harlequin hasn’t awakened by tonight, we run without him.”
“Is there time to infiltrate undercover?” Jane asked.
“Null chance of that. This has to happen tonight.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Ryan considered for a second. He found himself at the junction where the castle wall met the sea wall. He'd come full circle. “We’ll need these other runners,” he said. “They can cause a distraction for Assets to get in, get Burnout and get out.”
“I’ll arrange it through their fixer,” she said. “It’s best if they think it's an unrelated run. Keep them ignorant of our plans in case they’re captured and interrogated.”
Ryan descended the stone stairs that ran down the inside wall, then headed through the courtyard and into the chateau. He wanted to check on Harlequin. “It’s ironic,” Ryan said. “We’re planning to rescue the man who I’ve been trying so hard to kill. Until recently.”
Jane laughed. “Yes. The dagger of irony is a sharp one.”
Ryan approached Grind, standing guard at the entrance to the ritual chamber. The dwarf's black hair and beard were only slightly darker than his skin. “Hoi, Ryan,” Grind said, shifting the heavy machine gun—an Ares Alpha—into the third arm that protruded from his chest.
“Any news?” Ryan asked.
Grind shook his head. “Nada. Harlequin’s still out. Axler’s in there with Talon and Foster.”
“Quicksilver?” came Jane’s voice from his wristphone. She hadn’t disconnected.
Ryan lifted his hand. “Yes, Jane?”
“Incoming call from Nadja.”
“Patch it through.”
Jane’s face disappeared from the tiny screen, replaced by Nadja’s, which had a serious expression.
“Ryan,” she said. “Aina is with me. We’re enroute to you now.”
“You’re coming here?”
“It’s the best way I can help,” she said.
“But . . .”
“Don’t worry, Ryan. I have my own security detail.” Ryan took a breath and reprimanded himself. He loved Nadja and would worry about her no matter what, but he knew she could take care of herself. “Sorry,” he said. “How soon will you arrive?”
“Four hours,” she said.
Ryan clutched his heart. “That’s an eternity.”
Nadja gave him a beautiful smile. Then she said, “Aina wants to talk to you.”
“Of course.”
The image on Ryan’s wristphone shifted to show a female elf with dark brown skin. Her white hair was cut close to her skull, giving her a severe look. “I’ve heard about you, Ryan Mercury,” Aina said. “Most of it good.”
“I hope I won’t be disappointing in person.”
Aina did not smile. “I did not say that to flatter you,” she said. “Merely as a reason why I’m talking to you at all. Why I’m coming to help you, instead of to kill you. I presume you had a good reason to leave Harlequin in the metaplanes?”
Ryan bit back his reply. He didn’t need this kind of abusive drek, but he
did need to remain diplomatic; her help was crucial. “Yes,” was all he said.
“Tell me what happened,” Aina said.
Ryan unfolded the whole story to her, deciding that he had no other choice but to trust her. He told her of the ritual, bringing the Dragon Heart across to the bridge. He recounted the story of Thayla’s fall into the Chasm, the fight with Darke, the zombies and the spider creatures. How Harlequin had flung him back into his body.
When he had finished, Aina’s expression had changed slightly. A tiny bit more respectful. “What I’ve heard about you is true then,” she said.
“Can you help?”
Aina considered. “If he’s alive and wandering the metaplanes, I can search for him,” she said. “I have known him a long, long time and will have a much better chance of bringing him back than . . .” Aina stopped herself, biting back her words. “Than that child, Foster. But if Caimbeul’s dead . . .”
Ryan nodded, stepping into the ritual chamber and looking around. Axler and Talon glanced at him briefly. Foster and Harlequin lay side by side, her blonde hair mixing with his auburn ponytail. Both faces slack.
“I hope you make it in time,” he said.
“I’ll start looking now,” Aina said, then she disconnected and Nadja’s face filled the screen again.
“Ryan?” Nadja said. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
Ryan looked down at Harlequin’s face again. The man had been out of his body for over twelve hours now. When Ryan looked at his aura, he saw no sign of spirit left.
“Hurry,” he said, and disconnected.
24
Lucero rose from her eviscerated body, her spirit finally free of Oscuro’s oppressive manipulation. Pain wracked through her, like an explosion of agony that pulsed through her over and over. Never stopping, never letting her scream subside.
Am I to live out my last moment forever? Is that my atonement?
The Gestalt entity warped astral space around her. The aura of the ten members coalesced into one, swirling and twisting over her fleeing spirit as she rose up above the Locus. The stone’s power radiated like a dark sun. Even now, her body lying dead below her, she felt the draw of the chiseled gemstone, and some distant part of her desired to stay.
