Beyond the Pale

by Jak Koke

  Nadja almost hugged her. “That’s great. Where are they?”

  “Follow me.” She turned and led Nadja down the hall, then into the main room. The early morning sunlight streamed through the macroglass ceiling, and gave a pink-yellow hue to the big, open room.

  Harlequin lay on the biue velvet sofa, and Aina sat on the matching ottoman. Lines of stress showed on the dark skin of her elven face as she cast magic of some sort. Nadja could almost feel the power flowing through Aina, could almost see a tracery of scars across her brown skin as she placed her hands on Harlequin’s chest.

  Nadja stood at a distance and waited. Jane Foster slouched into an adjacent chair, struggling to keep her eyes open. Harlequin’s breath came shallow and slow; his painted face was wrinkled and cracked, making him look very, very old. His eyes fluttered open as Aina’s healing magic did its work.

  Then Aina leaned back, almost falling.

  Nadja moved to catch her if she lost her balance. But Aina recovered, swaying gently back and forth as she closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate on breathing.

  Harlequin propped himself into a sitting position against some pillows. His eyes focused on the scene around him. When his gaze landed on Nadja, he spoke. “You seem to be out of place, Miss Daviar.”

  “I came with Aina,” she said. “Ryan asked me.”

  “Is Ryan all right? I sent him back, before . . .”

  Nadja gave him her warmest smile. “He woke up in great health. He is now in Aztlan, trying to get the spirit, Lethe.”

  Harlequin seemed to gather his strength, and he sat up fully, glancing at Aina, who slipped onto the sofa next to him. She was still recovering from her spell.

  “He plans to get Lethe and bring him back here for another ritual.”

  Harlequin was quiet, though he seemed on the verge of speaking. He took a deep breath, one hand idly combing through the long strands of his hair. Contemplating.

  It was Aina who spoke, “There’s not enough time to wait for him.”

  Harlequin looked at her, nodding silently in agreement. Jane Foster sat forward in her chair, giving Aina a look that would freeze steam. “What do you mean?”

  Harlequin answered, “Aina is right. Darke has used the Locus far more effectively than any could have thought possible. He is close to completing the bridge. If that happens ...”

  Jane Foster’s look did not soften. “I know what it means, but what do you intend to do?”

  “I must go to Ryan Mercury and Lethe immediately,” Harlequin said.

  “But you’ve been through so much already,” Foster said, her voice pleading. “You’re not healed up.”

  “Actually, Aina’s magic has made me almost as good as new. I feel great.”

  Aina gave Jane a sympathetic look. “I know you care for him,” she said. “Just as I did long ago.” She gave Harlequin a smile. “But this is for the whole of metahumanity. You cannot know what it is like to live with the Corruption, and I hope you never have to. It is worse than death. Believe me, I know.”

  “The bridge is nearly complete,” Harlequin said. “We must go.”

  “They’re in San Marcos, in Aztlan,” Nadja said, “It’s halfway around the world. How can you get there in time?”

  “We’ll go astrally,” Harlequin said. Then he turned to Aina, “Will you join me? Your knowledge of such matters far exceeds even mine.”

  “I’m with you, Caimbeul,” Aina said, though her voice gave away her fatigue. “Once more we fight together.”

  Foster stood, “I’m coming with you.”

  “I won’t stop you,” Harlequin said. “But I’d rather you remain with Miss Daviar. Watch over us. If we fail, she may need help.”

  Foster didn’t hide her disappointment, but she said nothing.

  Harlequin laughed. “Besides, I’d hate to face your father if anything happened to you.”

  Foster sank into her chair, a resigned look on her features.

  When Nadja glanced back at Harlequin and Aina, they were already gone. Their bodies sitting side by side looked relaxed and content. More like two people watching the trid than warriors of ancient magic on a quest to save the Sixth World from an onslaught of evil.

  33

  Thick strands of gray smoke drifted into the hall as Ryan scanned the situation. He kept himself hidden from view, using his stealth magic, and assessed the opposition in a heartbeat. His magically enhanced senses told him all the details.

  He saw the heat outlines of guards coming around the corner cautiously, expecting a confrontation. He heard their subvocalizations as the advance team sprinted into the hall, setting up overlapping fields of fire. They wore military-grade full combat armor with integrated helmets, which Ryan knew gave them infrared and low-light vision.

  Ryan could even feel the pounding of their heartbeats. A slight pressure rhythm inside their suits. All these details came to him in a split instant.

  Can’t let them trap us inside the room, he thought. We’ll never get out. The walls of the corridor were smooth painted stone. No cover. A lot of people are going to die before this is over.

  Ryan quickly glanced the other way, the opposite direction from which they had come. No guards, no subtle indications that anything was coming to block their way. “Jane,” he subvocalized, “is there another way out of here?”

  “Yes, Quicksilver, but it leads to the main entrance.”

  “We’ll take it,” he said. “Axler, Grind let’s go!” Ryan drew his MGL-6 pistol and fired a flash grenade into the hall.

  The small orb flew into the midst of the guards coming around the corner as Burnout edged up next to Ryan. The third arm disengaged from its compartment in Burnout’s back and swung up next to his head like a chrome stinger, a rotor-barreled M107 heavy machine gun attached to the end.

  “Ready to rock and roll, Ryan,” he said.

  A brilliant flash lit the dark hallway, a blinding light that would overload their low-light vision and cause them to blink simultaneously.

  At that exact instant, Ryan called upon his telekinetic strike, focusing his power through the Dragon Heart. He opened his arms, releasing the force like tidal wave—a tsunami of magic energy that slammed into the oncoming guards.

  The wave picked them up and hurled them against the far wall like rag dolls.

  “Let’s move!” Ryan yelled. “Go, go, go.”

  Axler was first around the corner and gliding down the hall away from the stunned guards. Talon and Grind followed closely behind, very difficult to see with the invisibility magic. Of course that wouldn’t hide them from thermal scans.

  Burnout darted into the hall, his movement smooth and nearly as fast as Ryan’s. The cyberzombie didn’t follow Axler and the others, however; he headed for the downed guards. The barrel of his Ml07 whined as it chewed up the belt of armor-piercing rounds and spat them into the stunned bodies of the six guards.

  “Go,” he told Ryan. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Axler and the others had disappeared around the corner in the other direction. Ryan followed quickly, and Burnout came right after as more guards burst into the hall from behind. Two held Panther Assault cannons, and the group was accompanied by a combat drone that zipped along the floor. It was big enough to have a mounted Vindicator minigun.

  Lethe spoke to Ryan through the Dragon Heart, “There are mages in that group, and they’ve brought some nasty blood spirits to help. I can banish them, but I need to draw from the Dragon Heart.”

  ‘‘Do it,” Ryan said. “I brought the Heart for you anyway.”

  Ryan felt Lethe stretch his magic to touch the Heart where it rested in the sash around Ryan’s abdomen. The spirit channeled his power through the artifact, then into the two blood spirits which had begun to manifest in the hall.

  The blood spirits looked like orks or trolls with the skin removed. Naked eyeballs staring from bloody muscle sockets, nostrils flayed open and dripping. They moved incredibly fast, rushing toward them.


  Lethe’s force hit them and they flew apart, disintegrated into their constituent organs. They sank to the floor like a stew of body parts—bones, muscle and gut—then disintegrated.

  The drone’s minigun roared, filling the hallway with an onslaught of lead slugs. Ryan dove around the corner just in time, and Burnout came behind him. Ryan heard the distinct metallic ping of rounds ricocheting off Burnout’s frame.

  “Okay?” Ryan sprinted to catch up with Axler and the others.

  The cyberzombie was on Ryan’s heels, matching him step for smooth step as they raced up the corridor at breakneck speed. Burnout’s voice came back with a note of laughter. “Fine,” he said. “So good of you to ask.”

  Ryan watched Axler, Grind and Talon, their outlines difficult to see because of the invisibility magic, cut a sharp left down another passage. In the tacticom, he heard Jane giving Axler directions to the central staircase.

  When he reached the left passage, Ryan ducked around the corner and stopped, simultaneously pulling a clip of fragmentation grenades from his belt and slamming it into his grenade pistol. These would frag them over, and they might even take out that drone. “Catch up with the others,” he told Burnout. “I’ll be right behind.”

  Burnout didn't even stop.

  Ryan leveled the snub barrel of his MGL-6 and fired four grenades into the corner, watching them bounce down the hall and come to a rest a few meters from the advancing drone. He ducked into the passage before they went off, and he had nearly reached the others by the time the explosions shook the air.

  Axler’s voice came harsh in Ryan’s ear. “Decision time, stairs or elevator?”

  Ryan reached the group; they had paused around the corner from a small room. The hall continued on about twenty meters before making another sharp right. “Which is closer?”

  “Elevators are here.” Axler indicated the room. “The main stairs just a bit further.”

  Ryan used his mirror to peek into the space, noticing the three guards—two humans and a ork woman—standing in front of two elevator doors, alert and nervous. The ork paced back and forth, the emergency lighting flashing red and white over her tan uniform. The others stood still, trying to look confident.

  Jane was insistent over the tacticom. “I can get you up the elevator shaft,” she said. “It’s faster and safer than the stairs.”

  “What about the power?” Ryan said.

  “I’ll restore it temporarily,” came Jane’s response. “Null sheen.”

  “I hate elevators,” Axler said. “Too confining. One burst from an SMG could take us all out.”

  “You won’t be inside the elevator,” said Jane.

  “We climb up the ladder then?” Axler’s voice was thick with incredulity. “Or what about on top of the elevator car? They’d never think of that. Come on, Jane, they’ll nail us either way.”

  “Not on top, Axler. Underneath.”

  Axler said nothing. It was a good idea.

  “Let’s do it,” Ryan said, running up to the others.

  “You have no choice,” Jane said. “There’s a hoopload of Jag Guards coming down the central stairs, maybe fifty or sixty. No way you can make it out that way. But if you get past them, you’ll be almost to the main entrance.”

  Dhin’s gruff voice broke in. “I can help you when you get there,” he said. “My Wandjina is itching to see some action.”

  “I hope you’ll get your chance, chummer.”

  Jane’s voice came over urgent and all biz. “The power outage means that the sec cameras are dead. They won’t see you enter the elevator shaft.”

  In Ryan’s mirror, the ork guard paced up close and glanced out into the hall. Close enough that Ryan could smell her foul breath. But she didn’t see him; his magic served as a cloak. Whether she noticed Axler and the others, Ryan couldn’t be sure.

  Her eyes went wide as she focused on Burnout, standing level with her, his perfectly proportioned head giving her a wry smile.

  With a quick, precise jab Ryan sunk a narcotic dart into her neck. In seconds the drug made her slump to the floor. Ryan grabbed her weapon as she fell. “Axler?” he said.

  On cue, Axler doused the room with her Ares Supersquirt.

  The other two guards sank to the floor in seconds.

  “Burnout,” Ryan said. “Can’t you go invisible?”

  “That’s Lethe’s territory.”

  Sorry, I’m still a little rattled from the banishment.

  “Well, spirit, pull your drek together before you get us all geeked.”

  On it, came Lethe’s response.

  Ryan watched in mild surprise as Burnout vanished into nothing more than a heat shimmer. “That’s better,” he said. “Now can you open the elevator doors?”

  The vitreous cyberzombie stepped up to the metal doors and pushed them to either side as though he were opening curtains.

  “Let’s get these guards into the shaft,” Ryan said. The elevator tube was dark and square with a hydraulic system instead of a cable and weight. In the center of the shaft, a silver pole gleamed in the dim light, telescoping up from the pump mechanism below to hold the elevator car.

  They dumped the bodies into the opening, watching them fall the three meters to the bottom of the shaft. This was the lowest level, and Ryan could see that a maintenance ladder of round rebar rungs ran next to the door and up into the darkness.

  “I’ve taken control of the elevator and put it on emergency power,” Jane said. “It’ll stop on the level above yours. But you need to haul hoop. I don’t know how long I can keep control.”

  Ryan looked up and saw the elevator car come into view like a huge ghost of machinery. It stopped about four meters up, and Ryan searched the undercarriage with his low-light vision, trying to find enough hand-holds for everyone.

  The bottom was made of smooth stainless steel that gleamed dimly in the low light. Along the edges of the car, a metal grating extended about ten centimeters below the floor of the carriage. Whether it would hold them all or not, Ryan didn’t know.

  The sound of movement came from the hallway behind. “All right, everyone in,” Ryan said. “We'll have company any second.”

  “Let’s go.” Axler climbed nimbly up the ladder and swung out onto the grating. Grind followed, with Talon just behind him.

  Ryan pulled a couple of smoke grenades and set them off in the passage. He could hear the team that was following them; they were close, but moving cautiously.

  Grenades had that effect. From the other direction, however, Ryan could hear a rush of guards. Coming fast.

  Perhaps the smoke will make them mistake each other for us.

  Ryan turned quickly and climbed into the elevator shaft and up the ladder. He latched onto the grating, joining the others, whose feet dangled over the darkness, looking like meat hanging in a smoke house.

  Automatic gunfire sounded in the hall, followed by yells and screams. They’re shooting at each other.

  Burnout came last, swinging onto the ladder, the illusion magic unable to mask his massive silhouette, like a prismatic robot. Something had happened to the cyberzombie, Ryan knew. His entire demeanor had changed, and it wasn’t simply due to Lethe’s influence. It had happened too fast for that—ever since he and Ryan had fought in the arboretum. Burnout had nearly died that day, had nearly taken Lethe with him.

  Now, Burnout sank his fingernails into the doors and slid them shut, first one then the other, plunging the shaft into utter darkness. A few seconds later, Ryan felt his weight on the grating.

  “We’re on, Jane,” Ryan subvocalized.

  With a lurch, the elevator began to ascend. Rising in the darkness. “You’re going up five levels,” she said. “To the fourth floor. The main entrance is on the third. You’ll have to climb down and force the doors.”

  Grind’s voice came on. “Nice thinking, Jane. Even if they think we’ve taken the elevator, they’ll send troops up to the fourth.”

  “Maybe,” said Axler, her voice soundi
ng dubious. “But I still feel like a clay pigeon.”

  “Cut the cross chatter,” Ryan said. “We go out by the numbers. Talon do you know how to levitate?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many of us can you hold?”

  “Two, maybe three.”

  “Do it,” Ryan said. “Levitate yourself, Axler, and Grind. Float down to the doors while Burnout and I get them open. We can’t afford to come out one by one, just in case they’re ready for us.”

  “Got it.”

  The elevator slowed and came to a stop. At the limits of his low-light vision, Ryan could see the number three over the doors below.

  “Burnout, do you want the pole or the ladder?” he asked.

  “Call me Billy,” he said. “I’ll take the pole.”

  “Billy?”

  “The man once known as Burnout no longer exists.”

  “Very well,” Ryan said. “I’ll take the ladder.”

  “Ready, Talon?”

  “When you are.”

  “Let’s go.” Ryan swung over to the ladder and climbed down to the doors. There was a tiny, five-centimeter ledge between the doors and the shaft, and Ryan balanced on it, standing on his toes. Behind him, Billy slid down the center pole, stopping level with Ryan. Talon levitated himself, Axler, and Grind into position, holding them stationary, level with the door.

  Everyone was ready.

  Ryan put his hands into the crack between the big metal doors, and pulled. The doors slid back, letting in a shower of light.

  A startled guard turned toward them in the alcove. A woman, her red-blonde hair pulled back against her scalp and tucked into the rear collar of her Leopard Guard uniform. She held an AK-98 up and ready to rumble, and as she pivoted toward them, her chrome cybereyes gleamed as they widened in recognition.

  Behind the guard was an archway that led into a huge central chamber. The room’s details registered in Ryan’s mind in the fraction of a second before he made his move on the guard. The chamber had a high ceiling and was dominated by a massive sculpture of a dragon with feathers instead of scales. A feathered serpent, with plumage of purple and deep green.