Mage Hunter (Lost Tales of Power Book 8)

by Vincent Trigili

  We traveled through several corridors until we found a terminal with sufficient cover to interface with unseen. I smiled at my angel and sent, “Keep watch over me while I work.”

  She touched my shoulder, smiled and slipped away to a better vantage point.

  The terminal looked like the typical Class Three tech that was common out this way. Essentially, it was one large touchscreen that could also respond to voice input. I doubted that a cyborg would waste time with a touch or voice interface, and that meant that my doing so might trigger an alert, so I pulled off the outer case of the screen and spliced a connection from my datapad directly into the network.

  For a while I did nothing but passively record what was on the network. “Odd.”

  “What’s wrong?” she sent.

  “There’s a lot of data flying around, but there appears to be no security at all,” I sent.

  “That’s what Lyshell said we would find,” she sent. I could hear the skepticism in her mental voice. “Do you think it’s a trap?”

  “It might be, but if so it’s beyond my ability to detect.” I opened a connection to the station’s core and started the download of data. I throttled back the flow so that it was a little slower than most of the streams of data already flowing to and from the core, and did my best to mimic a normal cyborg request. Hopefully that would prevent anyone from noticing.

  “Lyshell and his team will be boarding soon,” sent Phym.

  I nodded. Time was running out. We couldn’t broadcast, as that would alert the enemy. “At the rate I’m pulling this data, we just need an hour and we’ll have it all.”

  “What about taking control of the defenses?”

  “One thing at a time. I can’t wrest control from them without great risk of alerting the cyborgs to our presence. I want to get the data first.”

  “Do we have enough time?”

  I wasn’t sure. It all depended on how fast the cyborgs gave up and counted the station as lost. I imagined it would be soon after Ramsong’s squad had deployed, but I didn’t know how valuable this station was to them. Was it worth blowing up the station and taking out a full squad of Battle Wizards but losing whatever they had built here? Their drones were of little value to them, but was there anything here which they did value?

  “If everything is going according to schedule, Lyshell, Dave and Stones are now aboard doing a sweep for sorcerers,” I sent.

  “No alarms yet,” she sent.

  We stayed put and waited. Time ticked by, and data trickled into the datapad. So much hinged on getting all the pieces in place before the cyborgs had a chance to respond that even a single mistake might snowball into a disaster.

  “That’s it!” I sent.

  She came up beside me, and I handed her the datapad. “Now get that out of here.”

  She nodded. “I’ll take the pad to Master Raquel, but then I’m coming back for you.”

  She cast a spell that allowed her to shift into a spirit form and shot away from me, heading straight up. At her level the effect wouldn’t last long, but it would give her enough time to make it into space. From there she could easily fly back to the ship and deposit the datapad. Master Raquel would then take the pad somewhere safe before returning to help with the battle.

  Now that she was gone, I turned my attention back to the computers. I hooked up a second datapad and accessed the internal security cameras. There was no sign of Lyshell or his team, but that was to be expected since they would be hiding themselves. In my sweep through the cameras I found several prison cells containing people whom I assumed to be magi, though all I could see were people of various races bound, gagged and blindfolded in cells. I noted their locations to send to Ramsong when he began his assault.

  Eventually I found the control systems for the station’s defenses. They had been secured, but not by the cyborgs. The cyborgs must have purchased or otherwise acquired this station, as the command and control center was secured behind a firewall that I recognized. On impulse, I tried my Phareon government override commands and was surprised when they worked. I was in.

  I smiled. The only explanation was that they had taken control of this station before my faked death, as after that time all the command codes I knew would have been deleted. Being at war with everyone else meant that the cyborgs didn’t get system updates, and their lack of concern for security meant they didn’t check for old accounts. Their own belief in free and open information would sink them.

  It was a surprising attitude, given that they were essentially living computers. Network security should be second nature to them, but Lyshell had said they couldn’t understand how anyone who’d been enhanced would ever want to turn back, so they saw their own networks as safe.

  After this assault, that was likely to change.

  71

  06-29-0067 — Lyshell

  “You sure this… this… armor is good?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Master Raquel with a smile. “It will provide no air or warmth so you must stay inside the station, but apart from that it is just as effective as your battle armor.”

  The armor in question was a set of clothing made from the skins of animals; real leather, enchanted by enchanters in Korshalemia. She had picked it up there when she’d taken Priestess Shea to visit the temple. We still didn’t have upgraded battle armor, so this was the best I could get. It didn’t have the heft or the thickness of battle armor, and I couldn’t imagine it stopping a shot from a blaster.

  I sighed. It would be better than my coveralls, at least I hoped it would be. “Okay, how do we get on board?”

  “Your spells should protect you for long enough to slip onto the station via one of the docking arms. I’ll stay close by, and if you run out of time I’ll open a gate and pull you through.”

  Stones and Dave were nearby, suiting up. They would go over first and find a way in. Once they’d secured an opening, I could teleport over and join them.

  “You two go now and make sure we can get in. Use telepathic communication only,” I said.

  They nodded and moved into the airlock, wearing their full battle armor. Everyone was operating on the assumption that a normal person could not be controlled via the armor, only Joan, myself and any others who had spent a long time as cyborgs. I hoped they were right.

  I knew that if Priestess Shea were here she would pray. From everything I had learned and witnessed, that prayer would be a thousand times more powerful than the armor they wore, and certainly more than my empty hopes. Shea’s god? If you’re out there, please keep those two blokes safe from cyborg control, would you? Thanks! I tried to send that thought into the void. I didn’t know if that was how prayer worked, but it was worth a shot.

  Time slowly ticked by while we waited for word from the Hammer Brothers. Waiting had to be the worst part of being a primitive. When I’d been properly enhanced, I could have carried out a million tasks while monitoring their progress. Now, with no technology at hand, all I could do was wait; wait like a blind, dumb fool unable even to monitor the local comm channels.

  “We’re in,” sent Stones.

  I cast the best shielding spell I had and teleported out into space. As long as I held my breath and remained calm, my shielding would keep me safe. Specially-trained operatives could hold their breath for several minutes, training I had never received. As a cyborg, I could simply turn off my breathing and use internal air stores as needed. As a primitive, all I could do was take a deep breath and hold it. I figured that meant I had a good thirty seconds until I ran into trouble.

  “This way,” sent Stones.

  I orientated on his position and teleported, once to get within sight of the entrance they had opened and once more to get inside. They quickly closed the door and the room began to pressurize. I let out the breath I was holding in an explosive gasp and sucked in a fresh lungful.

  “Next time, I should bring a can of air or something,” I sent.

  “Now, where’s the challenge in that?” s
ent Dave.

  I breathed deeply a few times and tried to will my heart to beat slower. When I felt I was stable again, I stepped onto the station proper and knelt to cast a spell which Master Raquel had recently taught me. I chanted it as quietly as I could, knowing that while I was hidden from most sensors, any noise I made would still be detectable.

  Soon a pattern of light spread out before me. A gasp escaped my lips as I saw it.

  “What is it?” sent Stones as he scanned the area, looking for threats.

  “Look!” I sent and then showed them what I could see.

  “Whoa,” sent Dave.

  “Rots, man, how do you make sense of all that?” asked Stones.

  “Who says I can?” I sent, but I could to some extent. Each colored line was a person, or more likely a cyborg, who had recently moved through the area. The lines were different in size and color. I figured that this somehow designated the person traced by the line, but had no idea how to read them.

  The lines across my vision made me feel a bit more whole. It was like having my HUD back, and this one couldn’t be interfered with by the cyborgs. I had other spells that I wanted to try on this trip, all of which involved tracking and hunting. It seemed that I might live up to my title of Mage Hunter after all. “There! That greenish one. That’s someone who is not from this realm, I think. Anyway, it’s different. Let’s follow it and see where it goes.”

  “Can you tell how old that trail is? I assume that’s what that is, right?” asked Dave.

  Growing up in a rural community must have given them that context. “Yes, each line is like a game trail. I think the brighter the line the fresher the trail, but this is the first time I’ve actually used this spell outside of a training room.”

  We moved slowly down the corridor. The further we moved into the station the more lines became apparent, making it harder to track any individual line. If we moved slowly, I could focus on just one line which made it more apparent, but it took a lot of concentration and was causing my head to hurt.

  Go slowly, Lyshell; this is a whole new interface to learn, I chided myself. My old, more complete self could have dedicated a subcore to handle the processing of the data lines. My current incomplete and crippled self could barely walk and look at the lines at the same time.

  “Sir, if everyone is on schedule, we have only another half-hour before Ramsong starts his assault,” noted Dave.

  “If that’s your passive-aggressive way of telling me to move faster, it won’t help. I’m too new at this,” I sent back.

  “Maybe we should do without that spell for the moment and see what we can find from a quick search?” sent Stones.

  I sighed, knowing they were right. “Very well. It looks like most of the trails turn at the next junction; let’s head that way and see where we end up.”

  We took off at a jog, the lines in my vision blurring together as I lost concentration, but I didn’t cancel the spell. The comfort it brought was something I didn’t yet want to give up.

  I steered us down to where the lines seemed brightest, and several times we had to duck down a side corridor to prevent being spotted. None of them had organic eyes, which made things a bit easier, but we weren’t taking any chances.

  “Do you think that after this raid they’ll start keeping some of their eyes organic?” asked Dave.

  That was a good thought. Surely sooner or later they would learn. “I don’t know. They see organic eyes as inferior and a handicap. It’s like a religious belief to them. Personally I would think it likely, but I don’t know.”

  I wondered how Greymere and Saraphym were doing. We couldn’t risk using any technology to communicate until Ramsong began his assault, and the station was too big for my limited skill with telepathy to reach.

  “Religious belief? So, it would be like asking Stones to learn to read?” asked Dave.

  “Hey! I read fine!” responded Stones.

  “I guess so,” I sent, not really paying attention to the conversation. I froze and focused on the lines again. Something was different, but what? Slowly, as I focused, they came apart. The green line was still there, but now there was a much darker line in the mix. It felt somehow wrong.

  “Do you see something?” sent Dave.

  As I focused, the line split into three. They traveled together down the corridor and then turned sharply away from the main traffic. “This way,” I said, drawing my wands.

  As we followed the dark lines, moving slowly, one broke off from the other two and turned left at a junction while the other two went straight on. I paused there, unsure which path to follow.

  “What is it?” asked Stones.

  “Three sorcerers went this way, I’m sure of it, but one turned left and the other two continued on,” I sent.

  “Then we turn left,” sent Dave.

  “I agree. We don’t know how powerful they are, so it’s best to take them on one at a time,” sent Stones.

  There was sense in that. “This way.”

  It was easier to follow the single dark line, as it quickly left behind all the more frequented passages. I was sure we were moving slower than the sorcerer, but I sensed we were closing in on him. Did that mean he’d stopped? And was he male, female or even human? I couldn’t tell by the line, or at least not yet.

  I stopped just shy of a turn and waited. I could feel the sorcerer’s presence. I was sure he was close; perhaps right around the corner.

  “Dave, Stones, be ready, but hang back. Whoever we have been tracking is around this corner, I think,” I sent.

  “Sir, with all due respect, let us go first. We have a lot more combat experience when it comes to magical duels,” sent Stones.

  “I’m not some green cadet,” I sent back.

  “No, sir, you’re not,” sent Dave.

  “But, sir, you’re still new to wizardry and we have been in many fights with magic as our weapon,” insisted Stones.

  I waved him off and checked my shield spell. I turned the corner and saw what might have been a human, possibly male, but so decrepit that it was hard to tell. I decided it was a human male.

  As soon as the sorcerer saw me he called out a word of power, and lightning arced from his hands and slammed into my shield. I had been hit by lightning more times than I cared to count; this would be no different. I dug in my heels and leaned into the blast, stepping towards him. My shield held, but I knew it wouldn’t last. It didn’t need to; I just had to keep him focused on his casting.

  I let my tracking spell go and focused all my will on my shield. The sorcerer poured the lightning into me. I could spare focus for nothing other than walking forward and holding my shield spell. Mage-craft was at its heart a distance weapon; if I could get close to him, I’d steal his advantage.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  The lightning stopped and I let out a scream of pain. I dropped to my knees, panting, as my shields finally collapsed.

  Thud! Thud!

  An unholy scream sent a chill through to my core. There was one last thud and then silence. I managed to raise my head and saw the sorcerer lying still under a pile of six rocks.

  Stones was at my side and helping me up. “Are you all right, sir?”

  “The plan is: I’ll distract him and you squash him with rocks. Got it?” I sent back.

  “Think four will do it? Or should we drop six, just to be safe?” sent Stones.

  Dave groaned. “Are you all right, sir?”

  On my feet again, I leaned against the wall and took a drink from my canteen. “My head is pounding and my vision is blurred, but I’m not dead.”

  “Impressive shield work, sir, but next time how about letting Dave be the lightning rod?” suggested Stones.

  “That is a lot harder without my exoskeleton.” My head was swimming and my vision refused to clear. “I think I need to rest a bit.”

  Dave handed me a small bottle. “Here, drink this.”

  I couldn’t focus sufficiently well on the bottle to make out what i
t was, but I trusted these two men. I chugged it down, and within moments my head cleared and my vision returned.

  The bottle in my hand was empty and bore no indication of its contents. “What was that?”

  Dave took the bottle and stowed it with his gear. “Illuminescence potion. You overextended yourself.”

  Those were hard to come by, as only two people were currently able to make them. I felt that I had just wasted one.

  “You should eat something, sir,” sent Dave as he handed me a meal bar.

  “Thanks. You were right; I should have let you two do your ‘Hammer Brothers’ thing.” The bar was awful, with the texture of sand encased in rubber. A complete meal in a small, dense package, everything a person needed to survive; everything except taste or texture, that is. I used to eat these things as a cyborg and always assumed they would have a pleasant taste. It seemed logical that they would. I could not have been more wrong.

  “Well, sir, your plan worked, at least,” sent Stones.

  “Even if you didn’t come up with it till after the actual fight,” sent Dave.

  Foolish pride had almost cost me my life. I wasn’t armor-plated anymore, and I was only just beginning to learn to fight with my new weapons. It would take time to get back to the level I was used to, and I needed to allow myself to do that.

  “We should move. Someone must have heard all this commotion and will come to check it out,” I sent.

  About fifteen minutes after the fight with the sorcerer, a call came over our comms. that Ramsong had engaged the cyborg forces. We couldn’t send a reply without exposing our location, but Greymere seemed unworried about that. I was surprised, because he was just as exposed as we were.

  “The butterfly has flown,” said Greymere over the comm.

  Excellent; that meant Saraphym had made it off the station with the data.

  “Acknowledged. Any targets for us?” asked Ramsong.

  “At least six. Station defenses are offline, as is all internal security. The cyborgs will have their own sensors and network, but at least they won’t be able to turn the station against you.”