The Forever Gate Compendium Edition

by Isaac Hooke

  Hoodwink nodded to himself. "Repeating the words of others. The Council, and the world you came from, but a half-remembered dream. A memory of a dream." He turned the blade slightly, widening the flesh-wound. "Give me the disk, or give me One. Choose. Or die."

  Jeremy's eyes burned with zeal. "The Great One does not appear to just anyone. The Great One—"

  Hoodwink lowered the sword, scarcely able to conceal his irritation. He'd have to try a different tack. The truth, perhaps? In addition to getting the disk, he might even be able to plant enough doubt to change the course of events. "You know why One wants the Dwarf so badly, don't you?"

  Jeremy bit his lip, and his eyebrows bent toward his nose. "I'm sure you'll enlighten me."

  "With the Dwarf, One can become you. For good. There will be no mayor. No Jeremy. Only One."

  Jeremy licked his lips nervously. "You lie. The Great One made me a promise. I shall be rewarded for my services."

  "Rewarded by becoming his vessel."

  "No." Jeremy whispered.

  "You know it's true. Tell me, have you noticed blocks of time missing from your day? What did you do this morning? Last night? You can't remember, can you? The time is gone. During those lost moments, One rules your mind and body."

  "No."

  "What reward did One promise anyway? To bring you to that world you dream of every night?" Hoodwink glanced at the sculpture of a sea creature beside him. "That world of water?"

  Jeremy looked at the sculpture, saying nothing.

  "Water." The word rolled off Hoodwink's tongue with a vile taste. "If you ever go back, you'll get your world of water all right. You'll drink your fill. Just not in the way you'd hoped. That's if your mind can even take the strain. You'll probably return as an empty shell like most of the others. Like I almost did."

  Jeremy studied him, those beady eyes moving back and forth, processing, thinking.

  "You should be congratulated, I suppose. Of all of us, you were the only one who succeeded. Though you've become insane for it. The mayor with the mind of a psychopath. Maybe it's for the best that One takes over."

  Jeremy's face was the model of confusion. "What are you talking about, Hoodwink? I succeeded at what?" His voice betrayed a slight tremor.

  "You said you knew this world wasn't real. Well, you got that part right. It is an illusion, that's very true. The body you see here is merely your avatar, a reflection of your true self. We're actually on a ship. In space. Crashed on a moon. Now here's the tricky part. One is the main A.I. of this ship. The master gol, if you want. You created a little germ and fed it to One. Your germ changed One, and that germ started to trickle down to the other A.I.s. The gol mind disease? It's all you. But there were blocks in place that stopped the germ from bringing down this reality entirely. So you changed the germ somehow, and with it you linked your avatar to One so that you could get around some of those blocks.

  "The link didn't come without a price, of course. It ate away at your mind, and you slowly became mad. I helped as I could when I reached the Outside and understood what I was. How much of it you remember, who knows, but I guided you, because your madness blinded you. With the children I'd gathered, I helped you tweak the source of the gols to make the Direwalkers. I helped you create Brute, and the bomber gols. I helped One.

  "And now that One has the Dwarf, the A.I. will take you over entirely. Think of it as being revised. Except far, far worse. And it's all your doing."

  Jeremy regarded him in silence for a long moment. Then he smiled a false smile, his eyes white with fear. "And I thought I was mad. You're crazier than a fox Hoodwink my dear fellow."

  Hoodwink exhaled a long breath. He'd told the truth. Would it make a difference in the hours to come?

  He spun Jeremy toward the mirror and forced him to his knees. "Summon One."

  Jeremy smiled. "I cannot simply—"

  "Do it!"

  Jeremy glanced at the fireplace. "Oh no."

  Hoodwink followed his gaze. There was a clock on the mantle there. Three o'clock.

  Jeremy's body flickered.

  The chamber seemed to darken. Jeremy's face was now hidden in shadow. The gold threadwork had vanished from his sleeve. His hands were bone-white, and instead of four fingers and a thumb each hand possessed two thick, ridged digits. Electricity sparked from them.

  On the robe was written a single number.

  One.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Unsure of what to do, Tanner withdrew the sword and stared at the wall of debris that blocked the outlet. He considered using his last pipe bomb to blast his way through the rubble, but he suspected that would only make matters worse.

  He pulled up the city map in his head.

  This entire area used to be swampland before the system froze the city. He zoomed in on his current location. According to the map, there was another outlet just twenty paces to the north of this one.

  He hurried outside.

  "To me!" Tanner said. "There's another way out!" He led the defenders along the concrete wall, away from the first outlet. Direwalkers offered resistance every step of the way.

  "Where are we going?" Cap cut off a claw aimed at his face. The man's movements seemed to be growing more sluggish all the time.

  "Another outlet!" Tanner ignored his own fatigue, and did his best to defend against the constant barrage.

  "There isn't another outlet!" Cap said.

  Tanner stopped beside a part of the wall that was covered in snow drifts. He swept fire across the area and cleared it. There was indeed an outlet.

  Except the entrance was sealed by an ice plug. At least, he hoped it was a plug—if the outlet was frozen all the way through then he and the defenders were in trouble.

  Fighting against his weariness, Tanner stabbed his sword into the ice. The blade sank deep, resisting him all the way, but it yielded for the final inch. If the ice was as thick as his blade was long, there was no way he'd be able to remove the plug, even if he carved a circle.

  He'd have to melt it.

  He summoned all the vitra he could muster and heated the blade.

  The ice melted slowly.

  Too slowly.

  Arrows rained down around him—Direwalker bowmen had taken up positions on the rooftops.

  "Help me!" he said.

  Cap and Al joined him, and stabbed their own blades into the ice with obvious effort.

  "Make your blades as hot as possible," Tanner said.

  Behind them, the closest men lifted shields to protect Tanner, Cap and Al from the arrows, while others fought off the Direwalkers.

  The ice melted down to his shoulders, enough for Tanner to peer into the tunnel beyond. With relief, he noted that it was empty inside. Thick as the length of his blade, but just a plug after all then.

  There was a commotion behind him.

  Brute had arrived, and was hacking down the defenders two at a time.

  Melting the ice plug wasn't going to cut it anymore.

  "Step back," Tanner told Cap and Al.

  He slid his sword out and plunged the blade into different parts of the ice again and again. Faster he moved. Faster. Ice fragments struck his face. Cracks formed.

  On the twentieth blow he released a sphere of flame at the same time, and the ice plug collapsed inward.

  "Go!" Tanner hurried inside, and waited by the entrance as Cap, Al and the other defenders dashed over the icy shards. "Hurry!"

  He fetched the last pipe bomb from his satchel. The final defender raced by—

  Four scimitars erupted from the man's chest, and he was drawn back toward the entrance.

  Brute.

  Tanner bit the igniter and tossed the bomb at the four-armed Direwalker.

  He raced away down the cramped tunnel, expecting the bomb to go off any second.

  It didn't.

  Had he bitten away too little of the fuse?

  Had Brute found a way to deactivate it?

  He was just starting to turn back when
the bomb detonated.

  The shock-wave flung Tanner down the tunnel. He fell, skidding across the frozen sewage that formed the floor. Flames ripped past him. He felt the intense heat all along his backside.

  When it had passed, he scrambled to his feet. The floor had become slushy beneath him. The stench of sewage made him crinkle his nose. Though his fire sword provided light, he could only see a few spans in any direction because of the dust that filled the tunnel. The high-pitched keening in his ears had returned worse than ever. Fresh blood trickled down his lobes.

  Because of the dust cloud, he couldn't tell if the bomb had sealed the tunnel entrance or not. Well, he'd just have to assume that it had.

  Because he sure as hell wasn't going to wait for the cloud to settle. He and the others had to go.

  Now.

  He stumbled forward. The dust was slowly clearing, and he found the others resting against the tunnel wall not far ahead. The last defenders of the Black Faction. Al Dooran. Calico Cap. Seven other hard men.

  Cap patted Tanner on the back and said something to him, but Tanner couldn't hear a thing, and just nodded his head.

  Face covered in dust like that, Cap's resemblance to Hoodwink in that moment was unsettling. Tanner could've almost believed that it was Hoodwink.

  Hoodwink.

  He wondered how his friend was holding up. He was probably seeing Cora, the Dwarf, and the Boxes to safety at this very moment.

  Good old Hoodwink. You could always rely on him.

  "Let's go," Tanner said, not hearing his own voice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Hoodwink backed away until he reached the Dwarf. He fumbled for the chain, not taking his eyes from One, wanting to make sure he had his bargaining chip in hand.

  One stood. It didn't turn around, but rather spoke to Hoodwink from its reflection in the mirror. "Excellent, Hoodwink." Those unseen lips spoke in a deep, inhuman baritone. "I am pleased."

  Beside Hoodwink, the Dwarf fell to its knees and placed its face in its hands. Loud sobs came from the gol.

  "You act as if you're my master," Hoodwink said.

  "Aren't I?"

  "Why did you have Ari killed?" Hoodwink tried to mask the emotion in his voice. He wasn't sure how successful he was, given the tremble on the word killed.

  "Ari?"

  "She was on my team," Hoodwink said. "A key part of that team, I might add. You knew this."

  "Ah yes. Your illusory daughter. Beside the fact she knew the location of certain vital targets, including the Dwarf, and the New Users headquarters, I ordered her killed with the Mind Extractor because of her relationship to you. She was too close. You cared too much for her. Her proximity to you put the entire plan at risk."

  "That was a mistake." Hoodwink yanked on the chain, bringing the cringing Dwarf nearer to him. "Give me the disk you had Brute use on her. Give me the Mind Extractor."

  A deep vibration passed through the chamber, an eerie rumble that grew in volume until Hoodwink felt his chest vibrating. He realized it was laughter.

  "Touching," One said. "The illusory father-daughter relationship is no more, and yet you still seek the dead one's memories? Redress for some perceived fault on your part?"

  Hoodwink was growing impatient. "I have brought you the Dwarf. And you will give me the disk in exchange."

  "No."

  Hoodwink lifted the edge of the fire sword to the Dwarf's neck, just above the bronze bitch. "Give me the disk."

  "Do you see now, Hoodwink? No one on your team can be trusted. Least of all you." The robed figure still hadn't turned around to face him. "You know that I can bring this room down upon you in the time it takes to blink an eye?"

  "And risk killing the Dwarf? I don't think so. Besides, you haven't joined with the Dwarf yet. Your power in this world is still limited."

  "Is it?" One remained motionless, in tense stand-off on the other side of the room. Electricity continued to spark from its fingers. At Hoodwink's side the Dwarf had grown rigid, none too happy about the blade burning into its neck.

  Hoodwink knew time was short. Limited power or not, now that they were in the same proximity, One might be able to locate the Dwarf's entries in the Core, and change whatever flag governed the durability of the Dwarf's skin. Or maybe change Hoodwink's own flags.

  "Give me the disk now!" Hoodwink let the temperature of the blade soar, and the stench of charred Dwarf flesh filled his nostrils.

  A small metallic object dropped from One's hand onto the floor. The disk. It bounced three times, coming to a rest halfway between Hoodwink and One.

  Hoodwink removed the blade from the Dwarf's neck, and the relieved gol collapsed.

  He tentatively stepped forward. When he reached the disk, Hoodwink bent down and, not taking his eyes from One, he scooped up the object and tucked it into his belt.

  "I don't understand why you would want such a thing," One said. "To relive the memories of another entity, when that entity is dead."

  Hoodwink snorted. "That's because you're not human."

  "Neither are you."

  Hoodwink pointed the sword at One's back. "I'm more human than you'll ever be. Besides, there's more than just memories in this disk, and you know it."

  "Is there?" One's head tilted to the side to look at him askance. The light seemed to dim just a little more in the room. "Should I kill you now, Hoodwink?"

  Hoodwink flexed his fingers around the sword hilt. "You wouldn't dare lift a hand against me."

  "Why?"

  "Because," Hoodwink said. "You need me."

  "Do I? Are you so certain that you have not outlived your usefulness? I am fully autonomous. My reach extends to the Core, and most parts of the system, Inside and Outside. And now that you have given me the Dwarf, I can complete my program without any further aid."

  Hoodwink stared at the A.I. uncertainly for a moment.

  Then he spun toward the curtains and hurled himself through the window. He landed in a spray of broken glass and clambered to the edge of the snow-covered balcony. He flung himself over the railing and fell one full story into the snow drift below. His gol body absorbed the impact well enough. He rolled to his feet and sprinted away across the estate.

  He expected the snow to come alive beneath him, or the pine trees that lined the path to bend and scoop him up, or hordes of Direwalkers to come racing after him from the mansion, something, anything.

  But the estate remained calm.

  One had let him go.

  Perhaps One had felt some sense of obligation for his gift of the Dwarf. Perhaps it even believed that Hoodwink might still be of use to it. Or maybe it was just in a good mood. A.I.s were unpredictable things.

  Hoodwink touched the shiny disk he'd stowed inside his belt. The metal felt cold beneath his fingers, colder than ice.

  Halfway there, Ari.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The guttering torches set at intervals in the walls cast disturbing shadows over the macabre scene in the tunnel. The dead lay everywhere, old men and women and their younger apprentices, struck down in attempted flight. Broken planks scattered the frozen floor, the remnants of cubicles that had once partitioned the area. Soot crisscrossed the mudbrick walls where the lightning of the fallen had forked. The sickly sweet smell of char suffused the air.

  Tanner recognized very few of the dead men, so mangled were those bodies. Jackson was one of them. A courier of the New Users, cousin to the mayor, recruited over a year ago.

  His torso was slit open from groin to chin, his ribs poking up like grisly claws.

  "So this is the New User headquarters," Cap said.

  Al lifted a plank, revealing a dead Direwalker curled up beside Jackson. "A dirty business, this. A piss-poor dirty business."

  "Jacob would've come here," Tanner said. "With the Dwarf. And Hoodwink." His hearing had returned, though sound still seemed muffled, his own voice especially.

  "If so," Cap said. "They probably died here."

  Tanner didn
't believe it. Still, he couldn't say one way or another, not with most of the bodies hacked to pieces.

  He glanced inside one of the few offices left standing—the Archives. The place was a burnt-out husk. The cabinets, smeared with soot, had been flung down. The drawers had been opened, the papers they contained reduced to ashes.

  "So the other traitor has arrived." Jacob emerged from an alcove beside the office. The New User had seen happier days—he had cuts and bruises all over his face and arms, his thin gray hair was matted, and his rags, already suitable for a pauper, were smeared with mud and sweat. Not so different from Tanner and his own companions.

  Three other New Users were with the old man, along with two swordsmen not of the Den. Briar was there too, peering from the alcove.

  "Well?" Jacob said. "Nothing to say, traitor?"

  Tanner felt his brows draw together. Just who was Jacob talking to?

  Cap, Al, and the other Denizens joined Tanner. The swordsmen on both sides of the stand-off fingered their hilts. A small spark of electricity played across Jacob's fingertips.

  "Jacob, my old friend," Cap said, apparently trying to diffuse the situation. "Why the uncalled-for talk?"

  Jacob ignored him, eyes fixed on Tanner.

  That's when Tanner realized Jacob had been addressing him.

  "What do you mean, traitor?" Tanner said.

  "You know exactly what I mean." Jacob advanced a step. "Are you going to take the Revision Box back too now? And the Control Room?"

  Tanner touched the hilt of his own scabbarded blade, and let the comfort of vitra flow into him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  One of the other New Users, the old woman named Helen, glanced at Jacob. "Maybe Hoodwink was acting alone."

  Tanner sighed. "What has our good friend Hoodwink done now?"

  "He pulled a fast one on us, is what," the old man, Jacob, barked.

  And then Tanner realized that the Dwarf was absent.

  "That's right," Jacob said. "You see it now. Hoodwink took the Dwarf. Maker knows where, or why."

  Tanner was somewhat relieved. "Just the Dwarf?"