Suture (The Bleeding Worlds)

by Stone, Justus R.

  A small town, a big city subway line, and an underground secret organization bunker, all within eighteen kilometres of each other. It was this melding of such different worlds that always acted as the greatest shock to Gwynn's system. While in Suture itself, he could pretend only it existed. But walking from it into a subway station—pulled from his excursions with Jaimie to Toronto—felt jarring. Leaving the subway, expecting to find a large bustling city above, only to be confronted with a little town out of a painting felt wrong. Some of the others revelled in this. They loved the idea of secrets and the melding of worlds. Gwynn just couldn't wrap his head around it. Things had their place and needed to stay that way.

  Most everyone arrived ahead of him. Only Jason had yet to arrive. As usual, none of the others seemed in a hurry to speak to him. He reflected on his conversation with Zeus. Maybe the old god was right, maybe they'd never accept him. Replaying other bits and pieces of the conversation—as he'd been doing for the past hour—he debated whether that talk had been more useful than grabbing another two hours of sleep. His stomach rumbled. Yeah, maybe food would've been useful too.

  Another figure stood separate from the other members of Ansuz, Alesandra. He tried to stare in a not-so-obvious way. She had the same black hair as Adrastia, which wasn't proof, nor was her similar physique. But her eyes…her eyes had him convinced. Who else in the world could have jade green eyes sparkling like jewels even in dim lighting?

  "Hi," he said, moving closer to her.

  "Hello." The voice sounded…close. Unlike Adrastia, who always spoke in a light and playful tone, this girl's was low, monotone even.

  "So how long have you been a member of Suture in Greece?"

  "About ten years," she answered. "How long have you been a member here?"

  Gwynn gave a nervous laugh. "Uh, only about eight months."

  "Where did you serve before that?"

  "Nowhere. I just got my powers about eight months ago."

  At this, her eyes widened. She stepped close to him—too close—and inspected him, even going so far as to sniff him. God, he was glad he'd showered.

  "That's not possible," she said.

  "Funny. Your boss was just telling me nothing in the universe is impossible."

  At this, she smiled. "Yes, he does love the possibility of the impossible. If your story is true, I'm sure he would find you fascinating."

  "That might be the word for it."

  He'd thought when he started talking to her he would know for certain if she was Adrastia. While he still couldn't be sure, he had more doubts. He did know one thing, he liked talking to her. It felt easy, even natural.

  Jason arrived just as the train pulled in.

  "Good timing, boss," Brandt bellowed.

  "Is he always so loud?" Alesandra asked.

  "Brandt?" Gwynn chuckled. "That's him being quiet."

  She nodded. "They're different from what I'd expected. I read their dossiers, but the real thing is much different."

  "Dossiers? Did they have one on me?"

  She shook her head. "No. You're a mystery."

  "Well, we're even. Because I don't know anything about you either."

  "You seemed sure you knew me. What was the name you called me?"

  Gwynn felt heat rush to his cheeks. He'd hoped that little slip would be forgotten. "Adrastia. She was someone I used to know."

  "Ah. Well, I'm afraid I'm not her. However, you can call me Alice if you wish. My friends often do."

  "Alice. Ok. Well, Alice, may I help you with your bags?"

  She laughed. Bell-like. Every time he was close to being convinced she couldn't be Adrastia… He shook his head. No. She was Alice, only Alice. He realized how much he'd missed Adrastia. How else could he explain his desperate desire for this girl to be her? While Adrastia's existence confounded him, she'd been there for him during the hardest time in his life. When he'd needed answers, she'd been able to give them. No one had really done that for him these past eight months. A short conversation with Zeus had provided him with more answers than his own grandfather had given. Why were the ones closest to him the most intent on keeping secrets?

  He picked up Alice's bags, and his own, and boarded the train. They sat next to each other without really clarifying they would. They were two outsiders bonding over their difference from the others.

  "I thought I might wait until we were on the plane," Njord said, "but now seems like as good a time as any." He moved to each of them, handing a device shaped like a black sports watch. "These are the tethers Woten spoke of during the briefing. You must always wear them while on this mission."

  Like dutiful soldiers, they all strapped the watches onto their wrists.

  Njord sat down and pulled a tablet out of his bag. He tapped it several times.

  "All of you will find your assignments on your tablets. There are two high schools in the city, where we will place one team of three. The rest will be dispersed to various landmarks and buildings such as the local mall and restaurants. The watches, while acting as your tethers, will also measure various Veil related energies.

  "Dammit," Brandt said. "I have to go back to high school? Really, Njord? At least tell me they have a football team or something."

  "I can't tell you anything about this city. We are going in blind. The initial reconnaissance was performed from a distance. We want to find out what cultural or historical differences exist. That's part of the reason some of you are in the schools, so you can read any textbooks and see what the youth culture is. Just do your best to keep a low profile."

  Caelum put up his hand. "Pardon me, sir, but if we're looking to keep a low profile, is Brandt really the best candidate for this mission?"

  "Screw you, Caelum," Brandt said. "I can be all stealthy. I'm like a friggin ninja."

  The train erupted in jeers and laughter.

  "I admit," Njord raised his voice so all others quieted, "Brandt is nowhere near being a ninja, but the assignments for the schools took into account the team's ability to extricate itself if a problem occurs. I'm certain we can all agree in tough situations, Brandt can be a formidable ally."

  No one argued.

  "So please review your assignments. Since we don't know much about the town, your cover stories are minimal. You'll have to build details as you go."

  The rocking of the train lulled Gwynn to a stupor point. He couldn't even be bothered to pull out his tablet. He almost wished it would piss Njord off enough to have him left behind. Njord didn't even seem to notice.

  "It looks like we're siblings," Alice said.

  "What?"

  Alice pointed to her tablet screen. "You, Jason, and myself have been assigned to one of the high schools. We're to pose as siblings."

  "Huh. I always wished I'd had a brother or sister." He looked to Jason and Alice. "I guess we look enough alike."

  She nodded. "I can definitely see the family resemblance."

  Gwynn watched Jason for his reaction to their assignment. He seemed to get along with Jason better than the others. But he worried that was mostly because of Fuyuko. How would Jason feel about being stuck with him? Jason's reaction was unreadable. He just read the tablet and put it away when he was done. Brandt, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide his look of disgust at Jason being stuck with the two team freaks.

  Gwynn closed his eyes against those glares. He'd been enjoying speaking to Alice. He didn't need Brandt's dirty looks to ruin it.

  The train ride would take about another thirty minutes. It swayed slightly as it took a gentle curve. In ten minutes, they would pass through the station underneath the city hall in Monday's Bay. Because this was a mission, they wouldn't stop. Anyone in the station would have to wait for the train to return.

  "I'm sorry," he said to Alice without even opening his eyes. "I think," he yawned, "I might have a quick nap."

  "It's fine," she said, patting his hand reassuringly. "You get some sleep."

  He let the swaying of the train lull him to sl
eep. Thirty minutes wasn't much. He almost wondered if it would do more harm than good. He couldn't fight it anymore. Maybe he could have a longer nap on the plane.

  Time passed. He half expected Alice to elbow him awake. Instead, he opened his eyes on his own. He blinked a couple times. Just to be sure, he rubbed at his eyes, rubbing his fingers into the corners to get the sleep out.

  He was alone on the train.

  "Hello?" he said.

  Only silence responded. He couldn't be sure the train was still moving. Was this some kind of hazing? Were they all huddled in another car watching to see him panic? It brought back the memory of another time he waited, thinking it was a prank. Given how that had played out, he almost thought it would've been better if it had been a prank after all. Just like in the past, he wouldn't play along. He would keep himself under control and not give them the satisfaction of seeing him out of sorts.

  The sound of footfalls brought his attention to the end of the car where a door led out into another car. Beyond that door, the lights flickered and went dark. In the darkness he thought he could make out a solitary figure approaching.

  The door opened. The thud, thud, of heavy steps filled the car. As the person moved closer, the lights would fall away, always putting him in shadows and hiding his features.

  "Who are you?" Gwynn asked.

  A low laugh like the rumble of distant thunder.

  "Just a little longer," the figure said. "Just let me reach out a little longer. Yes. Yes, I can see you…"

  A sharp pain erupted in Gwynn's side.

  His eyes snapped open. Alice's eyes probed him. "Are you ok?" she asked.

  Gwynn looked around the train. No one seemed to be paying any attention to the two of them.

  "Was I dreaming?"

  She nodded. "Not a pleasant one. I could tell."

  No, it hadn't been. The words hung over him like a curse. I see you. What had it meant?

  Alice leaned over and started routing around in her bag.

  "Do you trust me?" she asked.

  It seemed like an odd question, they'd just met. Yet he found his answer, "Yes," sprung easily from his lips.

  "Good. Make me a promise." She handed him a necklace. It was a simple silver chain, with a garnet pendant on the end. "Wear this always. Especially when you sleep. It will help with your dreams."

  "Really? What's it for?"

  "Luck," she said. "It's a silly old superstition, but it always helped me sleep better. They say it helps keep the bogeyman away."

  6

  The Forbidden Death

  Jason's presence hung in the room. If she could still access the Veil, Fuyuko might've tried to freeze the ethereal reminder of him. A foolish thought, but she liked the idea she could somehow keep just a small part of him preserved while he was away. More than just his presence hung in the air. It was also his words, those memories of the moment that changed Fuyuko's life.

  It was true a tear could burn out a Script. A point often forgotten because of the reverence with which Scripts were spoken. In the end, they were still humans. And humans could be so frail.

  She looked at her own hands. Yes, she was becoming well acquainted with frailty. She hated it.

  Was it true? Had Katsuro really died trying to close a tear? Jason said only Paltar and Hodur were with Katsuro when it happened. Had she known that before? Perhaps, but now she knew Hodur was a traitor, she couldn't help but be suspicious. No, Paltar had been there too. He hadn't betrayed them. He'd been the greatest victim of Hodur's betrayal. Even if Hodur was a murderous traitor, Paltar couldn't have been. Still, it didn't sit right. Hadn't Woten said Katsuro was one of the strongest Scripts he'd seen? Hadn't her father gloated about it for weeks?

  Dammit, he still gloats about it.

  So if Katsuro was so strong, how could it have happened? Gwynn just had his powers awaken and he was able to close a world killer. Could Gwynn really be that much more powerful than Katsuro? She couldn't accept it. No offense Gwynn.

  There was a way to find out, though. She could access the archives. The standard issue Suture armour had several pieces of monitoring equipment—cameras, microphones, and basic life support monitors. That was how she'd known something was wrong back in Brantfield, she'd overheard the radio transmissions. Even if the video had failed, something it seemed prone to do, the audio should still exist. The one advantage to her injury, besides her counselling sessions, she was excused from training and school classes.

  She left her room and headed for the elevator, which she took to the fourth floor.

  The archives sounded like it should be some grand room filled to the ceiling with books set upon ancient wood shelves—what an adventure to dive into such a place and lose yourself. Those kinds of libraries existed out in the world, and maybe one day she'd see them. In the meantime, the archives of Suture were anything but romantic—a plain room with a number of computer terminals. All searching through stacks for books, documents, audio recordings and video was done virtually.

  If she just wanted to read a book or watch a movie, she could've called it up on her tablet in her room. But mission logs were kept on a secure server only accessible from the hardwired terminals of the archive. Suture liked to keep its secrets, and making them available on a wireless network was probably not the best. Even mission briefings would be deleted from the wireless networks once the team involved had downloaded them.

  The room sat empty. Not too surprising with Ansuz gone and the others in training or education classes. She sat at a terminal and pulled the supplied earphones on. She pressed the spacebar on the keyboard and the computer came to life with a small humming sound.

  As a member of Ansuz, Fuyuko had access to all mission archives—the heads of Suture felt important lessons were learned from the past.

  She entered her username and password and waited as the main screen loaded. Functionality reigned supreme in Suture, so the main screen lacked any kind of ornamentation or fancy menus. A list of options greeted her, including the one she wanted, Previous Mission Logs. She clicked and waited for the most recent files to be loaded.

  The missions were tagged by date and the responding team. The past few months were filled with individual team names and cities that, for the most part, she'd never heard of. Except eight months ago, Brantfield.

  The link tempted her—to hear and see what her teammates had experienced during her absence. She suspected overall, her personal experiences had been more important than anything Ansuz had done. A pleasant, warm, sensation wrinkled up her spine. She could still feel pride—a good sign.

  She clicked in the search function and typed the date of Katsuro's death, October twenty-fourth, two years ago. She'd never forget that date. The mission files came up with both audio and video intact. She clicked on it and started watching. The logs indicated five hours of material, so she skipped ahead, looking for the feed from Katsuro's suit. She saw the team pinned down and Paltar and Hodur motioning to Katsuro to follow them. Paltar yelling the order to hold the ground so they could close the tear. Katsuro, running behind Paltar and Hodur, telling them which way to go based on his feeling of the tear. Then…nothing. The screen went black. A message came on screen. In blocky white letters it said, Authorized Personnel only. Level Zeta clearance required. Fuyuko stared at it for a few moments. It had to be an error. She tried again, this time running the video from Paltar's feed. At about the same moment it cut off and displayed the same message. She tried a third time with Hodur's feed. With the third failure, there could be no doubt—someone had locked her out. Locked her out? Maybe they didn't want her seeing her brother die. Still, she couldn't think of a time something like this had been done. Any other member of Suture who died never had their death censored from anyone. If it was only her locked out, why require Zeta clearance? As far as she knew, no higher level existed.

  She sat at the desk, tapping her finger against its surface, staring at the message on the screen. She switched to Jason's feed. This time,
it ran through, all the way up to Hodur and Paltar's return. She ignored their words for a moment. Instead, she studied their faces. Both looked shaken, but in very different ways. Paltar adopted an even stronger air of keep moving on, while Hodur looked, what was it…horrified. She clicked and replayed those few moments. She looped it. The more she watched, the more she couldn't shake the feeling Paltar had braced himself for this exact outcome, whereas Hodur had been caught unaware. Did Paltar know the tear would be too much for Katsuro? She logged out and made her way to the elevator. One last thing to try.

  Down to the second floor, the central command. She just hoped he was on duty.

  The elevator doors slid open.

  She knew there would be armed guards on the other side, there always were. Yet it still unnerved her. Along with the armed guards, several automated weapons trained on any individual who left the elevator. A Prometheus Circle set into the perimeter walls negated the abilities of any Anunnaki. Being a member of Ansuz got her entry, but not without scrutiny. Or rather, she would've been scrutinized, if not for her father's credentials. She wasn't just Fuyuko of Ansuz team, she was Fuyuko Takeda, daughter of the head of Research and Development, Shinji Takeda.

  A scan of her hand print, a separate one of her retinas, plus a swipe of her Suture ID card, finally granted her access to the command centre.

  The central command lay on the second floor. Which was a bit of a misnomer, as the tiered formation of the floors made the command center four storeys high. The door she entered put her at the halfway point of the room. A lift to her right would take her up to the brain centre of command, a deck extending out over the other tiers. There the team movements were monitored, their orders decided, and a separate communications centre used exclusively for the active teams. General base and civilian communications were controlled from one of the lower tiers. It was one of the other stations located on the lower tier she needed to visit—monitoring.