by JM Guillen
I fell.
I still had mass after all.
The word “insubstantial” didn’t truly do justice to the astounding work of the Spectre. The packet shifted Assets’ matter just out of phase with the solid matter around them.
The Spectre didn’t shift me entirely out of phase, of course. If it did, I wouldn’t be able to walk on solid ground. Still I risked falling through the earth below any time I pushed the Spectre to its limits.
Or in this case, falling through a team of Sadhana commandos.
Bish—
What ar—
Hoss?
Tragically enough, I didn’t seem to be able to hear the entirety of the furious system links, but I could tell that Rachel furiously adjusted my settings, a system-wide acceleration on my Crown’s processing capabilities.
Sunlight poured into in my mind.
In the space of a nano-second I felt the full grip of an entire pot of coffee and a couple of hypos of adrenaline. Every half second that passed seemed closer to ten seconds in processing time, giving the Adept plenty of time to plot the extreme stupidity that I had planned.
The dangerous bit came with disengaging the Spectre. I needed to do it while in freefall, not passing through metal grates or Sadhana operatives. Suddenly regaining solidity in the midst of them would certainly end in the death of the entire team, but if I permanently melded with several other people, it might ruin my social life.
Therefore, the moment I passed through them and the grate at their feet, I kicked off the Spectre.
—idiotic moves! Do you know—?
Using the increased processing time that Rachel had bought me, I initiated the Adept and did the clumsiest, most ass-backward roll I had ever attempted onto the unforgiving metal grates.
When I hit, I braced against an expected hammer of pain to every single joint.
But Rachel was an angel who deserved far better than me. When I struck the metal grating, I felt distant echoes of pain, faint ripples in a lake near the opposite shore. However, something in my Crown pulsed red hot for just an instant.
I’d have to worry about that later.
I rolled to my back and smoothly pulled the disruptor. With my thumb, I dialed the settings so that the force I’d used against Fido would be focused close to the diameter of a nail.
Firing. I sent the link into the general ether, as I didn’t want to put holes in my Artisan or my Preceptor.
Copy that, asshole.
Then, blinking until my eyes regained focus, I aimed up toward the Sadhana operatives and started firing.
My kinetic blasts easily fit through the gaps in the grates. Even when they did strike iron, it simply changed their vector a touch, and I fired so many times it didn’t matter.
Fish in a Barrel.
WHUF. Above me, in the stairwell where the panicked operatives tried to flee, a silvery stasis field appeared. One of the Sadhana goons slammed directly into it and fell on his back.
I shot him next, putting a tiny hole in the back of his head. With Wyatt’s field in place, they truly had nowhere to run.
Most died without ever knowing who shot them.
Soon the yelling and confusion stopped, and the landing lay thick with bleeding corpses. I let my arms fall to my sides, the disruptor clattering on the metal grating. As I slumped to the floor, I knew that it would only be a moment before Wyatt and Anya made their way to me.
For a moment that sang in my mind, I stared upward at all the scarlet warmth, dripping downward.
A lazy smile spread across my face. A wild, rambling laugh lurked within my chest, but I held it.
I could smell the blood, as if life and passion had a scent—
So, what the hell? Amazingly, Rachel didn’t seem to be on the edge of murdering me, only a bit irritable.
I chose to take that as a good sign.
Oh, you know, saving the day. I tried to sit up, but it seemed as if whatever emergency voodoo Rachel had performed to keep me clear of pain had worn off with a vengeance.
I felt her frustration then, but it didn’t feel like her typical irritation. Instead, Rachel felt tired, weary to the bone.
Bishop, how well do you remember Dhire Lith?
Um. An odd question, it threw me completely off guard. I’d say I remember it well enough.
Oh, I’d wondered. She paused, and when she continued, her tone had hardened. Because after we got back to Facility Prime, I assisted the team that had to axio-graph you a new spine. If I remember right, you remained in a coma for seventeen days.
Not my whole spine, I grumbled as I pushed myself up on my elbows, peering upward. Where had my cadre stepped off to?
Asset Emergency Services had to rebuild your entire neural interface. She paused again. Have you ever wondered why the Facility practically had to rebuild you from scratch after that dossier?
Because I’m an idiot. I know. I tried for the correct level of contrition as I pushed myself up to a sitting position and groaned with agony. I used the Gatekeeper while adrift in the astral tides. My Crown tried to process paradox looping, which is impossible.
No. I mean yes, you’re an idiot, but that’s not why.
Okay. I sighed. Tell me why.
Bishop, you are a dolt. She paused. You remained a captive of Aberration 45171-R for months. You are the only Asset known to have provided a host body for them and yet been recovered. You are the only human known to have ingested their reproductive serum and lived.
Yeah. Icy fingers began to crawl up my back. So?
So, she went on as if explaining to a child, you have neurological pathways that are vastly different from any human that I have seen. Ever. They are different from any other human geared into the Lattice.
I remained quiet.
Working to reintegrate the Facility gear into your bodily systems took nothing short of a miracle, a miracle you don’t appreciate because you don’t understand its difficulty.
I didn’t know. By now, my unease had turned into a cold sweat. This has literally never been explained to me.
I realize that. And that’s why I need to tell you something. She paused for a long moment, as if trying to put her thoughts together.
Okay. Her tone made me exceedingly nervous.
If you don’t stop abusing your system, then ‘the glitches you’ve experienced after Dhire Lith are going to happen more often. You don’t know how close things came a few times.
You’re right. I didn’t know. I swallowed, a genuine lump in my throat. I’m sorry.
When you do things like this, you run a higher risk than a typical Asset. Since your biology is already different because of what happened with the Vyriim—
That’s not entirely my fault. In that moment, more than anything I wished that she would yell at me, call me names.
Anything but this.
No, that’s true. But there’s still the possibility that someday you’re going to do something stupid, and the Facility won’t be able to perform a miracle and save you. She paused. You’re asking people who care about you to watch you take exceptional risks, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before you slip.
Rachel. Words didn’t seem to be sufficient for what I felt. I’m so sorry.
I can’t stop you from doing stupid things, Bishop. But I can request to not be assigned to dossiers with you.
Oh. Just the thought that another Asset would specifically request to not be paired with me was a sobering one.
Hell, maybe I should spec to a different Facility segment. If I only dealt with cadres from Central America or the eastern United States, I wouldn’t have to watch a friend take stupid, unnecessary risks that might fry his nervous system just so he can be some kind of cowboy hero.
I–I see. I had absolutely no response to that.
I hope you do. I’m not going to ask you to quit being an idiot. I felt a hint of a smirk on her face. I think that might be impossible.
Yeah. I smiled as well. That’s asking a bit much.
/>
But I hope that you will think about other people once in a while. She paused. And not just in the ‘save the day’ kind of way.
But I like saving the day. I smiled ruefully over the link.
I’d like you to consider what it would do to Wyatt if you had slipped by just a nanosecond and disengaged the Spectre while in the center of that metal grate. I’d like you to contemplate how it might affect Gideon if you died on a dossier where he’s the Alpha.
I sighed. We all knew the risks of our jobs, but the thought of Gideon’s face if I died…
That wasn’t something I wanted to consider.
I had seen what had happened to Gideon in the Yucatán a few years ago. The dossier had either killed the other Assets in our cadre or driven them mad.
As a result, Gideon and I had become very close, and sometimes I suspected that I served as the closest thing to a son that the man had.
I will. My eyes had grown suspiciously wet.
Good. I felt the faint smirk on her face again. I’ll tell Wyatt and Anya that I’m done tearing you a new one, and the three of you can get on your way.
26
Moments later, my bloodstream coursed with four different injections of viral mecha, and I felt mighty fine.
Half of the mecha had been tasked with pain management and tissue repair; something I could kinda sorta do, although nowhere near as efficiently as my Caduceus. I used the remaining two injectors in an attempt to moderate my endorphins and dopamine while I healed up.
Wyatt had taught me that little trick, and it was a good one.
I knew that within a few minutes Rachel would check in on me and retask resources as she saw fit. Standard protocol and all. Caduceus knows best.
Michael. Anya’s link felt a touch chilly as she stepped onto the landing. She stood there a moment, her blue eyes curious.
Hey there, Anya. I gave her a wide smile. I knew full well that Anya could read what ran within my system, and I wondered if her chilly link expressed her judgment of my choices.
You do keep losing things. She took three strides to the edge of the landing, crouched, and reached over the side. When she stood, she dislodged some careless person’s katana from the side of the landing.
Oh! My eyes lit up when I saw it.
I sometimes wonder if my primary purpose on this missions is to hand you your equipment. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. I assume you will take better care of it from now on.
You, sir, are a Class A Idiot. Wyatt came down the stairs, a few of the Sadhana weapons holstered at his hip and back. I understand that the Designates are going to come up with a ranking system, all based around the stupid things that you do.
That seems unlikely. Anya looked at him, her face flat. What would be the purpose of such a system?
For cadre insertion. Wyatt fought down a grin, but I still felt it through the link. They can say things like: ‘This dossier is implausible. I’m showing a reading of twenty milli-Bishops on the Idio-matrix.’
That’s… Anya smiled, saw me see her smile, and covered it with her hand. She turned away, and I almost believed, for a moment, I heard her giggle.
I missed you guys too. Pushing myself to a standing position, I felt quite pleased with the apparent lack of wobbling and falling down. In the azure light, I scanned their faces to judge exactly how out of bounds my last bit of bravado had been. Wait a minute…
What, Hoss? Wyatt sighed as I stepped forward.
She burned most of your beard off! I stifled a laugh. I hadn’t seen it at first, what with the flickering blue light, but Wyatt’s bushy beard had been reduced to about a quarter of its former glory.
I offered to assist him in finding the axiomatic wavelengths to produce nutrients for hair growth. Anya seemed completely serious. The Artisan packet can easily repair this.
I’d prob’ly wind up with six-inch eyelashes. He glanced from her to me. I’m a big boy. I’ll go to a barber.
The longer I looked, the more ridiculous he became. Instead of pushing things, though, I changed the subject.
What’s the plan?
Gotta lick our wounds. I’m gonna use this card key to step inside this door. Wyatt held the card up in his right hand. If it’s secure, I’ll put us up a little axiomatic blanket fort to hide beneath.
Makes sense. I nodded. Give me a chance to get out of my now-useless body armor.
He nodded. Rachel is assembling parameters for a spike to help your physical body deal with all of the abuse that you put it through.
Abuse? I linked to Wyatt alone. I’m not the one trying to figure out how to use the tangler to synthesize the perfect ratio of blood to alcohol. I shot him a glance.
Oh, I’m not “trying.” He winked at me.
Once secure, Anya interjected, unaware of our private link, we will initiate a conversation with Demetrius regarding his location and status. From there, we will plan our extraction strategy with Gideon’s assistance.
Demetrius? I stopped in midstride as Wyatt swiped the key through the door reader, eliciting a green light and a soft ding.
Yes. Anya paused, an odd look on her face.
If I had seen it on any other woman, I might have considered her to be slightly flustered.
Liaison Stone’s first name is Demetrius. We have achieved contact with him and his Crown is active.
I assumed that. I lent a teasing grin to my link as Wyatt stepped through the door. It’s rare that I hear you use another Asset’s first name, that’s all.
Anya didn’t have time to reply. The topic quickly vanished at the sight that awaited us as we stepped in behind Guthrie.
What the fuck is this? Wyatt stood stock still in the light from the still-open door. His head tilted back as he gazed up at the ceiling in the otherwise midnight-black room. This is absolutely impossible.
The stairwell we had just been on ran parallel to the Geopulse Pylon and had doors on every landing. This room, on the other hand, had a ceiling shrouded in darkness. Great rectangular columns stood all around us, each approximately two meters to a side as they stretched into the black.
This room loomed larger than it had any right to be.
I just don’t know. I looked closer at the columns, trying to track what I saw. They’d run right into and through the other floors…
That weren’t there.
The uniform, deep black columns glittered with azure blue lights that traced their way up and down, leaving comet-like trails in their wake. Every so often one of the lights would turn in a ninety degree angle, but never did I see any two of them collide, even though there must have been hundreds of thousands of them.
The incredibly intricate patterns that the lights formed fascinated me absolutely. As I let my eyes follow them, however, the darkness between the lights actually caught my eye. Sable and soft, it called to me, and I felt eyes within it, watching.
Idly, I scratched at the side of my face.
This room is not aligned with ambient Rationality. Anya’s link felt hushed.
Are you saying we’re in another topia? Wyatt gazed back to her, where she propped the door open. Seriously? Some bullshit other dimension?
No. The fingers on both of Anya’s hands worked, her left close to her hip as her thumb and middle finger continually twitched and plucked at some invisible wire. Her right hand reached out before her, fingers undulating as if she caressed the nap of a grand tapestry.
One that only she could see.
So it’s not Rationality. I gazed back at her over one shoulder.
But it’s not a pocket dimension? Wyatt chuckled and shook his head.
This is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Anya whispered. I had indicated previously that the axiomatic weaving of the Geopulse Pylon appeared altogether unique. This is a continuation of that assessment.
Great. I love it when Twitchy here is exact. Wyatt paused and scanned the place. Are we safe?
I believe so. Anya’s right hand stopped its caress of invisible textures, and s
he blinked owlishly. This is a large room however. Significantly larger than one might expect based upon the architecture we’ve seen so far.
What are these things? Carefully, I traced my fingers down the glassy smooth surface of a gigantic, rectangular obelisk.
These structures have snarled axioms within them. The strands of those snarled axioms are tied to the Geopulse Pylon. Anya took a few steps forward and peered at the surface of the structure I had touched. However, the types of energy that flow between the structures are quite unknown to the Facility.
Good. Wyatt gave us a wry look. That’s great fucking news. Let’s shut that door so they don’t know which way we went. From here we’ll slip off into the darkness and set up our little invisibility cloak.
Roger that. Anya stepped away from the door, allowing it to close behind her.
From there, we wandered. It only took us a few minutes of weaving between the gigantic technoliths to find ourselves lost in the blue-tinged shadows. As soon as we felt secure, Wyatt set to work.
WHUF. WHUF.
I’m going to have a conversation with our darling Caduceus. Wyatt put on a long-suffering expression. After she and I’re finished talking about what a damn idiot you are, I’ll try to get the specifications that we need from her.
Wyatt’s spikes had the capability to augment recovery times, doing clever little tricks like altering the speed at which tissue knitted or allowing the body nearly unlimited amino acids and minerals for repair. The specifications were tricky, however, and not something that an Artisan typically dealt with.
I’ll just get out of this armor, sit here for a moment, and try to not be a damn idiot. I leaned against one of the columns and slid to the floor.
You do that. Wyatt absently nodded his approval.
I’m going to research the telemetry of this place. Anya’s voice already sounded distant. I doubt that Demetrius had the required resources to provide the Facility with accurate axiomatic readings.
That first name again. I didn’t really have the focus to consider it, however. My head spun, so I dialed down the hormonal alterations I had plugged into my viral mecha.
