by JM Guillen
As I turned to her, the grinning horror struck me squarely in the face with the hilt of her blade.
WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP!
Pain shattered the side of my face as several stasis fields ignited. I had just enough time to register that Wyatt and Anya were, in fact, in danger of being overrun.
“I can’t tell you how I’m enjoying this.” The floating, grinning monstrosity lunged forward again, her hair drifting on the breeze.
I noticed that she had several gouges on her face and one significant one beneath her dress, all bleeding darkened ichor. “It’s been so long since I had the honor of a challenge.”
“It might be your last.” I threw myself at her again, more my motion than the Designate’s.
Taylor adapted perfectly, using the Adept to rapidly weave my blade around hers, deftly defending me from her strikes even as he scored another on her shoulder.
She spun, drifting through the air in a way that, evidently, Taylor did not expect. I stumbled and tried to compensate but fell to the ground.
My disruptor clattered as it bounced across the floor.
The weeping horde wailed, almost as if cheering its benefactor on. The sound thundered about me, crashing over me like a physical thing.
“Not my last.” Before I could even track her movement, the Construct pinned my neck to the ground, her rusted blade just nicking my skin. “And not yours either.” Her breath bubbled with fetid whispers. “Oh, how I shall enjoy having you fight alongside me, iron-child.”
Almost faster than I could see, her second blade swooped down like a striking raven. The blade screamed through the air.
An instant before it pierced my skin, my instincts engaged the Spectre.
The tachi clanged against the metal floor, a blow that certainly would have taken my head.
Hope that didn’t interfere with your plans, Designate. I didn’t even try to be apologetic as I rolled out from beneath the creature.
I had prepared to ignite the Spectre myself, Asset. He paused. You used excellent timing.
I dropped the Spectre as Taylor had me crouch to scoop up my disruptor.
The Construct slowly turned, and I could have sworn that her unnatural leer grew even wider.
I have some specifications. Anya’s link practically sang with triumph. Asset Guthrie, utilize a spike at the following coordinates and input the following axiomatic parameters. Even though she had shared the link with me, I did not receive Anya’s patch.
Will comply. Pause. We’re moving, Hoss. Need to change the game board.
“Oh, human.” The Construct bowed her head the slightest amount. “What an honor it shall be to slay you.”
“We’ll see who slays who here.” I nodded toward her, hoping that I could buy time for my cadre’s play.
WHUF.
I scarcely heard the spike over the keening lamentation of the dead, but couldn’t help an inward smile.
Then the Construct, Designate Taylor, and I danced again.
In all honesty, her grace astonished me. I had no way to know how ancient the creature might be, but she had obviously spent a great amount of time practicing the arts of war. I had no doubt that without Designate Taylor driving, I would have found it impossible to keep up.
When it came to inputting attack patterns and defensive arcs, Designate Taylor was a machine.
Vaguely, I became aware of a furious scarlet light on the far side of the room but could spare no more attention for the phenomenon than that. I heard a few more of Wyatt’s stasis spikes trigger, but they weren’t followed with any more links from my cadre.
I hoped they had everything in hand.
“Simple perfection.” The creature’s voice, soft as wind through willow trees, held a touch of admiration. “You’re stance is perfect, every landing exact. I cannot help but wonder at your training.”
As she spoke, one of those terrible blades sang, slicing toward my chest. Designate Taylor blocked it just in time, even as he used my other arm to fire three times into the creature’s midsection.
The kinetic force hit her squarely and pushed the floating Construct back several paces.
The wall is breached! Anya’s link came suddenly in my mind, almost frantic. Michael, I am patching you the location of our egress. She hadn’t even finished linking when the patch came, an overlay of the room’s blueprint.
I spared a glance toward the Seal, where Anya’s patch indicated Wyatt’s location.
Perfect. I felt relieved that Anya had sent the patch; I could barely glimpse much of the room past the field of silvery stasis bubbles. Once I did catch sight of him though, I couldn’t help a wicked, victorious grin.
The giant, featureless door hadn’t even been touched. However, a few meters to the left of it, a good deal of wall around it had been reduced to molten slag.
Wyatt had melted our way past the Seal.
Go! I only had time to link the one word as the eerie Construct came for me again, her blades whipping toward me in a mesmerizing pattern. I can hold here for a moment.
Will comply. None of Wyatt’s Alabama drawl or customary sarcasm came through the link.
That scared me.
They bolted.
Anya’s ploy hadn’t removed our problem, though, only changed the battlefield. After all, the creature claimed to be honor bound to watch the door and let none pass it. We could certainly flee, but we might simply find other Sadhana operatives on the other side. Then, the battle would open on several fronts—
Wait.
As Taylor initiated a totally sweet roll that took me out of the creature’s reach, I remembered what Anya had said about Constructs. I had only faced a few of them in my life, but those that I did know shared certain characteristics.
Like exactitude.
Constructs could be quite specific creatures, often in ways that humanity never considered. They were, after all, little more than Irrational force and matter from the astral tides. Typically they only gained form by being the absolute epitome of something or other.
Perhaps that specificity could be turned to my benefit.
Pull me well out of the creature’s reach, if possible, Designate. I have an idea.
Do you wish me to disengage from your axial node?
Not yet. Standby, I linked as Taylor threw me backward into a ready crouch.
“Your spirit guardian is strong, human.” The Construct’s hair wafted around her as she spoke. From what seemed like miles away, I heard Wyatt lay some spikes, presumably against the hordes of the dead.
“We were just having a discussion,” I said, cocking my head to indicate my cadre, “over how confused you seem.”
“Confused?” Sneering laughter bubbled behind her words. “I said I admired your skills, not that they perplexed me.”
“Not over that.” I edged sideways, keeping her squarely in my sight. “But you said you were a guardian, bound by honor alone to do as Sadhana asked.”
“I am honor bound to the word of Master Ito.” She nodded, expression serious.
“Earlier, you indicated you had very specific oaths.” The barest hint of a grin fought to blossom at the corner of my mouth. “You even asked us to simply leave rather than try the door because you would be forced to kill us.”
“Master Ito bid me guard the door and allow none to pass it without his leave.”
“I no longer wish to use the door.” I exaggeratedly glanced behind her at the huge gaping hole in the Seal. “The situation has become moot.”
Cautiously, the Construct turned her head, even though wafting bandages covered her eyes. Her posture shifted when she faced the wall, as if startled. When she turned back to me, I practically heard the gears turn in her mind.
“You said you would find killing us boring. You also admire warriors of skill.”
“Yes.” The creature turned back to me, obviously off her balance for all of her graceful floating. “It would be a shame to destroy the results of such training,” she mused.
/> “I and mine simply wish to leave with no malice.” I stated clearly, final and absolute. “We do not wish to open any door or force you to betray Master Ito. Instead, we want to travel through that breach in the Seal. Your honor is not tainted if we do this; your oath is kept.”
She paused, staring at me with blind eyes. Then she looked to the breach in the Seal. She seemed to consider something very carefully.
“You have honored me and taught me much. I will always remember this battle.” I bowed deeply to her.
After a moment of silence, she responded, respect in her raspy voice, “Your steel honors mine, child of Kanayago-kami. As does the metal of your mind.”
Then she spun her wrists and her wicked blades vanished into folded space. The countless cries of her weeping horde slowly faded into silence.
She looked at me for a long, tense moment.
That grin finally dawned on her face.
With keening joy, the creature exploded with wild, echoing laughter. It echoed around me, even louder than the humming of the Geopulse Pylon.
I could not help but laugh with her.
The creature faded as if she had been sculpted of sand and struck by a powerful wind, as if she had never been.
31
You got lucky, Wyatt groused as we made our way through the metal corridor beyond the Seal. He limped just a bit.
Lucky to be so brilliant. I couldn’t help but glance at his leg. The armored cloth hung in tatters from ankle to knee.
Wyatt looked rough.
The claws of one of the weeping dead had handily shredded one of his pants legs, and he had bled profusely before Rachel stepped in. It looked like it had been pretty bad, although our Caduceus’ viral mecha had stitched him up nicely.
I noted that even though he had clearly lost some blood, it didn’t seem as if a canine, astral horror was hunting him. No four-armed monstrosity had come driftways into Rationality to devour his blood.
I supposed I must be special.
Between the burnt beard and the ragged pants, you look positively homeless. I nodded at him. I’ll give you some spare change later.
Fortune wasn’t a factor. Ignorant of my private comment, Anya continued the conversation at hand. Intellect is a classical method of dealing with Constructs of that type. She didn’t look much better off than Wyatt, with remnants of three deep gashes marring her otherwise porcelain face. Often they are quite powerful physically but will yield to paradox or upon discovering themselves at cross-purposes.
Regardless of which genius saved which Alabaman goat-herder, we’re past her. I clapped Wyatt on the shoulder. What’s next?
We indicated that we would apprise Demetrius once we passed the Seal. Anya glanced to Wyatt, then to me. I am prepared to initiate the link.
I sighed. Right.
The passageway beyond the Seal had proven to be of an entirely different construction than the offices upstairs. The steel corridor had a smooth, arched ceiling and every ten meters or so lamps on the left side gave off bright yellow light. Occasionally, small signs had been posted on the walls. They were far more curious than informative.
Zeta Wavelength Electromagnetism Affects YOU! one proclaimed, accented by a man shying away from something that looked like a gigantic tuning fork emanating curvy lines. Below it read: Report any human fertility concerns immediately!
I don’t know that we should check in while standing in the middle of a hallway. I raised an eyebrow at Anya.
A valid concern, but also a moot one. So far, there hadn’t been any doors or branches to the passageway.
Well, there’s that. Wyatt gestured ahead. What is it, some kind of tram? Golf cart?
To all appearances the hallway ahead held a booth resembling a small guard station, a checkpoint for people coming through the Seal. The glass enclosure housed a railing that hung below the curve of the ceiling and extended to a complex secondary device on the opposite wall. In the center lay an open area for passage, and beyond it we saw four carts.
The mechanism is what concerns me. As we got closer, I saw the camcorder set on a swivel arm near several computer screens attached to the wall. Just then, the camcorder pointed toward the ground, and a red light shone on its front, so the screens showed only snowy static.
I’m initiating contact. Anya linked. We simply don’t know the best way forward from here.
I nodded my agreement but said nothing.
Hello, Assets. Demetrius almost felt jovial in my mind. What is your current status?
Green. I glanced down at Wyatt’s leg as I linked. Mostly.
I take it you bypassed the Seal, Michael?
That’s affirmative. I peered ahead at the guard station. Current location seems to be a security outpost of some kind. My eyes rested upon a sign that said: SUPERPHYSICAL RADIATION IS A DANGER TO EVERYONE, WEAR PROTECTIVE GEAR. Next to it another warned: Mutagenic Radionics Beyond This Zone.
That’s perfect. You’ve all done quite well. He paused. Our next goal is Locale Two, which should be simple compared to what you’ve encountered so far.
Yeah? Wyatt’s link almost felt eager. Just like that? No security measures or impossible tasks?
Not at all, Wyatt. I’ve been quite busy, you see, and will be able to meet you far sooner than expected.
I couldn’t help but create my own subtext. It seemed as if Stone was saying, “Thanks to me, you won’t have to go to any more trouble.”
Ass.
Security Station PHOENIX is squarely in front of you. If active, you would be dealing with four operatives as well as a camera system that would alert the entire building to intruders. He paused again, almost as if he expected us to be on the edge of our seats. Fortunately, someone saw fit to re-assign those gentlemen elsewhere.
Excellent sabotage, Demetrius. Anya gave a slight nod as she linked. What is our next step?
Those trams are charged and active. You won’t need a key, they’re push button.
“Convenient.” Wyatt noted.
Take the tram on your far left, number four. I’ll patch an update showing the route to Locale Two, and we’ll meet there. Should be a piece of cake for you all.
Security forces? I questioned. Active operatives?
Gideon’s little diversion has paid off. All but a bare handful of security personnel are currently upstairs.
I’ve been monitoring radio transmissions, Anya butted in, almost eagerly. The Titan has generated significant damage to the top floors of the building, and the Gatekeeper is keeping them out of harm’s reach, for now.
Offhandedly, I thought about how much fun it would be to have a Titan activated and free rein to cause havoc.
Excellent. Make your way to the tram, and I will patch you the directives.
Copy that. Wyatt didn’t sound nearly as surly toward the man as I felt.
Security Station PHOENIX was a tiny enclosure just large enough for a table, stool, and a small rack of weaponry screwed to the back wall. The floor of the small office had been constructed of dark grey metal, while glass encased the rest of it.
I’ll drive. Wyatt stepped toward the tram, and I noticed his limp had become a touch more pronounced.
I dunno. The last time you drove, we fell out of the stratosphere.
Not my fault, Hoss, and you know it. Blame the Drażeri!
I will drive. Anya already leaned against the vehicle, looking at us with cool eyes. Childlike bickering is unnecessary.
He started it. Wyatt grinned as he climbed into the back of the tram.
“Roomy.” I settled into the shotgun seat and looked about the controls. Stone had been right about the tram’s ignition: push button. It started right up, and in less than a moment, we zoomed down the passageway.
“Whee-yooo!” Wyatt practically yodeled.
It did have a bit more punch than a typical golf cart.
Here is blueprint 1-R. It’s not one you have yet. Stone sent the patch, and I noticed he ported to memory again.
If he
didn’t knock it off, I’d have to log into the Lattice and offload some data.
You’ll take a right turn up here.
Understood. Anya paused, peering ahead. Demetrius, I believe I see security personnel.
Just one?
Copy that. I rested my hand on my holstered disruptor. He’s stationed at the turn.
There are three Sadhana badges beneath the seat. Put them on. Whoever is driving, show yours before the turn.
Don’t they have photos? I reached beneath the seat and found the badges he spoke of. Each one had a perfect, recent photo of one of us next to some fake information and the Sadhana triangle logo.
“Okay. That’s cool.” Wyatt reached for his, and I handed Anya hers.
Then, I peered more closely at mine.
Johnny Stallion? I looked to Wyatt, disbelieving. Stone, why is my name Johnny Stallion?
Hush. Anya slowed as we approached the stationed guard.
He stepped forward, his right hand on his holstered weapon.
“Good afternoon.” Anya’s voice sounded soft and sweet as she held her badge out to the slender man.
“Any news from upstairs?” The man glanced at the badge, then into the tram.
I watched as he visually checked that yes, Wyatt and I also had badges.
“I have not heard anything.” Anya’s words were a touch formal, a common occurrence when she spoke out loud.
Remember, princess, humans use these things called contractions, Wyatt linked.
“It’s a mess up there, last I heard. Just hope, it’s not…” The man let his sentence trail off, then seemed to decide not to. “Facility.”
“Surely not.” Wyatt gave the man a toothy smile. “And I imagine it’s handled. If there were issues, they’d have sent us up there, not had us return to our stations.”
“That’s true.” The man smiled. “Heh. If we had Facility Assets onsite, I’m sure everyone would know about it.” The man nodded and waved, and Anya drove forward a few meters before turning down the new passageway.
Johnny Stallion? I picked up right where I had left off.
Looks like I’m Rex Juilliard.
Don’t think anything about the names. Stone’s link felt like silk in our minds. They’re all rush jobs. I had to match you up with Sadhana operatives that at least vaguely resembled you.
