Harbinger

by Matthew S. Cox

Kirsten tried to be as unassuming as possible, but between a Harbinger following her and wearing lieutenant bars, walking down a corridor packed with enlisted psionics constituted a case study in the exact opposite of subtle.

  A few tactical officers who didn’t stand there staring, petrified by the radiant dread wafting off her shadowy friend managed to salute her. She returned it with only the requisite amount of enthusiasm required by decorum. Having people older than her acting like her inferiors made her feel all kinds of awkward.

  I’m a kid with a rare power set. These people have been on the job for a long time. She clung to what Dorian had said a while back about how good officers heed the advice of experience over their pride. Kirsten wondered if constantly doubting herself and still feeling like a child in over her head meant she didn’t have pride at all. Her promotion to second lieutenant didn’t give her any sense of being better than anyone, merely validated her. As an agent, she’d always felt like a little kid prodigy allowed to hang with the adults.

  The level of noise and activity in this part of the building—at least prior to the Harbinger’s arrival—surprised her as well. Of course, Division 0 had something like twenty or so tactical personnel to every I-Ops officer. This hallway fit what she imagined a normal police station would be like.

  Kirsten approached the plain white doors beside a silver panel with T-9 in black letters. With a soft pssh, the doors parted at her approach. The squad room beyond resembled hers in general aesthetic, only about three times the size. Rather than classroom-style rows, the desks in here stood in pinwheel clusters of four. Tons of plasfilm sheets hung from the walls bearing everything from suspect faces to humorous pictures to printouts from the Newsnet. It smelled like a locker room blended with sugary pastry and armpit. She also had the feeling the floor cleaning bots in here cried themselves to sleep each night.

  Due to the size of the squad room, the captain’s office at the far end seemed tiny, though it no doubt matched Captain Eze’s. A man’s shouting echoed from inside. Though the door was closed, the window remained clear, allowing a view of a tall man with Hispanic features, greying hair, and a muscular build looming over the desk, jabbing his finger at a pair of twentysomethings in tactical armor, bellowing about reckless jackassery. A pink-haired woman stood with a stoic expression while the guy next to her looked about ready to faint from dread.

  About a third of the desks had people at them, the rest empty as their assigned officer would be out on patrol at this hour. Those nearer the door all turned to look at her. Based on their alarmed expressions, she figured they sensed the Harbinger’s energy.

  “Uh oh. Who’s getting wiped?” whispered a man.

  “No idea. Who is that? Feels stronger than Ashford.”

  “Don’t be a dumbass,” whispered a woman, “mind blasters don’t throw off vibes like that.”

  Kirsten let it slide since they clearly had no idea who she was; they could only assume the ill feeling in the air came from her. Fair bet most of them, despite being in Division 0, wouldn’t like being told about ghosts, or worse, Harbingers.

  She homed in on a strikingly beautiful redhead the instant she stood from her desk and stuffed a few extra stimpaks into a belt case. The woman fist-bumped the guy at the desk to her right, then walked over to the door, her dark emerald eyes abruptly widening. Her uniform had an odd indigo tint as well as a metallic shimmer, though it hugged her every curve even more than the standard black fabric did. She looked like someone had sprayed her with liquid aluminum that formed a thin coating on her skin.

  “You must be Lieutenant Wren.” The woman offered a hand. “I’m Kate.”

  Dorian whistled. “Now it makes sense. The Diablos will take one look at her and all the blood in their body will go straight to their dicks. They won’t even be able to think straight.”

  “Yeah. Hi.” Kirsten accepted the handshake, ignoring her partner and peering up at the taller woman. “Don’t mind the sense of infinite doom hanging over me. He won’t hurt you.”

  Kate laughed. “You’re a bit smaller than I expected. Are they seriously going to send a kid out to the black?”

  Dorian snickered.

  “I’m twenty-two. Just short. Still, how is it that they agreed to send just the two of us in?”

  “C’mon. I’ll explain on the way.”

  Kate slipped past her into the hall, eyeing the general vicinity of the Harbinger and walking around it. Once past the voluminous cloud of inky darkness, she took on a confident stride with a little sway. The woman didn’t give off a sense of wanting to throw her sexuality around like a weapon, more that she felt absolutely confident without the slightest trace of worry.

  The Harbinger remained close to Kirsten, though it drifted in front of her as if ‘sniffing’ the woman out. When they reached the elevator, it continued to hover nearby, its body language suggesting it didn’t quite know what to make of her.

  “So… how much did they tell you?” asked Kirsten.

  “Only that they had someone who needed to go into a black zone to chase down people who did some shit I wouldn’t believe, and they’re probably Diablos. Also, that I’m cleared to do whatever I have to do to ensure we both go home.”

  “You don’t seem too worried about going into a black zone.”

  Kate smiled. “I used to live in one, so I know the routine. Mine was in East City. Never been to 4196 before, so my reputation won’t protect us. But that’s okay. Diablos are simple to deal with. They don’t listen to reason so there’s no point talking.”

  “I don’t even want to think about what they would do to you—or her if this goes bad.” Dorian moved in front of Kirsten, staring into her eyes. “I know how you feel about killing, and it’s what makes you who you are. However, if you’re going to go in there, you need to think about Evan. Diablos no longer count as human beings. Consider them no different from those jackalwere things in Monwyn. Except, they won’t kill and eat you. They make Malden Walker look like Bippy the Sunshine Rabbit.”

  Kirsten shivered—mostly because she remembered the irritatingly catchy theme song from that stupid show. The dorm nannies had it on all the time in the area with the youngest kids. “I know. But… don’t forget I’m a suggestive. If we get captured, no one is going to lay a damned hand on me. Or Kate.”

  The redhead laughed again. “Captured… that’s cute. Hon…” She threw an arm around Kirsten’s shoulders. “We’re not going to get captured.”

  When the elevator opened one level up, the Harbinger exited first, continuing to stare at Kate. Kirsten slipped past it and waited in the hall.

  “There’s something there, right?” asked Kate, one eyebrow up. “I feel a presence following us but don’t see anything.”

  “Two entities actually. My partner, Dorian—a ghost, and I have a Harbinger tagging along as well. It seems… interested in you.”

  “Is that good or bad?” Kate edged out of the elevator, doing her best not to walk into the vaporous mass.

  Kirsten worked her hair up into a twist that would fit in a helmet. “It’s interested in you because you’ve done some bad shit, but it’s confused I think because maybe you’re trying to fix things. I’d say its reaction means you’ve managed to kinda get close to the middle.”

  “Yeah.” Kate looked down as they walked. “I wasn’t in a very good place for a while. Killing people was just something I had to do to survive. Guess I was pretty fucked up if it didn’t mean anything to me.”

  “Nothing? You never enjoyed it?” Kirsten headed into the locker area near her squad room. “Not that I think you should; I mean it’s darker if you take delight in it.”

  “Maybe one time.” Kate folded her arms. “I used to have a thing against geneticists. Maybe I rather enjoyed killing one.”

  Kirsten removed her utility belt, boots, and armband, then stripped out of her Division 0 blacks, down to only panties. “You’re not going to wear armor?”

  “Nah. No point.” Kate smiled at her. “No
bra?”

  “Not enough to put in one,” muttered Kirsten.

  “Aww, don’t be so critical. They’re cute.”

  “I’m not being critical.” She grabbed a mesh stimsuit from the locker and stepped into it. “I’m making fun of some asshole I don’t even remember his name. And, well… I hate bras. Not quite as much as I hate high heels. Portends of doom.”

  Kate grinned. “They’re not that bad.”

  “Every single time I wear heels, I feel like a drunken ostrich on stilts… right up until I wind up barefoot and running for my life.” Kirsten pulled her PSI armor leggings out of the locker and pulled them on.

  “That sounds like an interesting story.” Kate picked up the armor chest piece and helped her into it.

  Kirsten glanced over at her. “Is it true you streaked naked across the Badlands?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Umm…” She blinked, dumbfounded. “Why?”

  “No choice. I had a little, umm, trouble with my pyro for a while. Anything I touched caught fire.”

  Dorian snickered. “Talk about a smoking hot body.”

  Kirsten sighed at him. “That’s… wow. Never heard of anything like that happening before. So you’re really going to skip armor and wear that into a black zone? What is it anyway?” She brushed her fingers down Kate’s arm. “It’s so thin. Is it metal?”

  “Indirium threads, yeah. Heat resistant.”

  “What if you get shot?”

  “As long as I see it coming, the bullets will melt.”

  Kirsten squeezed the two halves of her armored chest piece together until they clicked. “Melt? Are you serious?”

  “Eze did say something about off the charts.” Dorian raised an impressed eyebrow.

  “Yeah. So…” Kate looked around. “Is toasting these Diablos going to, uhh, make me ‘slide evil’ or something?”

  The Harbinger shook its head.

  “Under normal circumstances, I’d say it would only be a problem if you took delight in killing them or if you kill one who surrenders… but these guys don’t surrender.”

  Dorian pointed his thumb at the Harbinger. “And I think our friend is a little annoyed with them, so you get a pass.”

  26

  Bring the Fire

  An Advanced Armored Assault Hover Van trailed after Kirsten’s patrol craft toward the black zone of Sector 4196.

  Their escort broke off and hung motionless in midair at the five mile mark from the edge of the grey. The military had never attempted to take back this area, so the denizens here didn’t have access to scavenged heavy weapons or rocket launchers left behind in the carnage.

  Kirsten kept flying onward over blocks and blocks of high-rise towers that progressively appeared in worse states of decay. The term ‘black zone’ originated from how sectors too far gone to lawlessness and violence appeared as empty voids in the Navcon system. It didn’t usually translate to the real world actually becoming black. However, in the case of Sector 4196 and its surroundings, the name proved more than metaphorical.

  The wreckage of large industrial buildings hinted that the sector had once contained facilities for the manufacture of passenger shuttles or starships. Vast, cavernous pits like swimming pools for titans marked the landscape here and there, stained green from whatever chemicals they once held. No longer used for treating the hulls of enormous spacecraft, they’d become landfills, collecting mountains of scrap, debris, and trash—and likely hundreds of bodies. From the air, they didn’t look too worrisome, though based on their size compared to nearby buildings, falling into one would entail at least a four-story drop before hitting junk.

  Those pits have to go straight to the bottom of the plates…

  “Whoa,” whispered Kate. “Check that out.”

  Kirsten looked away from the old chemical baths, following the woman’s pointing finger to a giant, glowing red pentagram. It hung suspended between two metal pipes, former chimneys of some kind, and appeared to be a physical object, not a hologram. She poked at the windscreen, zooming in on it. Strands of wires and LED lights created an inverted five-pointed-star within a circle about twenty feet high.

  Plink.

  “Looks like the natives have noticed us,” said Kate. “That sounded like a bullet bouncing off the car.”

  Plink.

  Kirsten shook her head at the ruin sprawled out below and rolled the patrol craft into a leftward dive. Handheld firearms didn’t pose much threat to a patrol craft, unless they managed a lucky shot straight up into one of the ion thrusters, but hitting a three-inch target moving at 200 MPH with a handgun from 500 feet below may as well be impossible. That two bullets even hit the car at all probably meant a few dozen people had to be firing fully automatic at them. Or maybe one aug with targeting optics. She skimmed closer to the ground to guard the underside, heading for an intersection full of shot-up cars.

  “You can’t leave the pat-vee here,” said Kate. “It’ll be gone before we get back.”

  “Not planning to. Dorian can fly it to a safe distance after we’re out.”

  “A ghost can fly the car?” Kate blinked.

  “Yeah, he’s real attached to it.” Kirsten descended to a hover two feet off the ground, not bothering to deploy the wheels.

  “Very funny,” said Dorian.

  “You got the stick.” Kirsten opened her door.

  Blue sparks crept randomly across the plastisteel ground from the ionic downblast, flashing within a blanket of dense Cryomil fog. As soon as Dorian vanished into the console, Kirsten jumped out, the plastic-like material of her PSI armor clicking and clattering on her sprint to cover behind the nearest ruined car.

  Kate dropped to the ground and stood in place, hands on her hips, glancing around like a disappointed tourist. “Wow, this place is a real shithole. Gotta say, East City black zones are nicer. The locals don’t usually knock whole buildings down back there.”

  The Harbinger exuded from the underside of the departing patrol craft and drifted over to her. Kirsten, hunkered down behind the wreck, sighed at her fastest way out of here leaving her behind. Am I making a mistake?

  “Lieutenant Wren,” said Captain Eze in her ear. “What’s your status?”

  “We’re on the ground, about to go in.”

  “Copy. Be careful in there. The instant you feel like you’re no longer in control of the situation, you call in Pemberley’s team.”

  “On standby,” said a bassy man’s voice. The words ‘E5 Pemberley, I’ appeared at the corner of her visor as he spoke. “We’re hovering 6.2 miles out, lieutenant. Oh, by the way, there’s a static distortion six feet to your left.”

  “Yeah.” Kirsten glanced at the Harbinger. “I’m aware. It’s friendly.”

  “The disavowed area you’ve entered is large enough that you may lose signal near the center,” said Captain Eze over comms. “I’m keeping an eye on this operation… as is the Command Council.”

  That means he’s going to send Pemberley in if he thinks I’m in trouble. She exhaled, grateful he hadn’t ordered her on an open channel to bail out if he pulled the plug. He probably thought it, but didn’t want to undermine her authority.

  Kate walked over and stood next to her, still casually looking around. “Any idea where they are?”

  “Only that they’re somewhere in this sector.” Kirsten peeked up over the car. “Why are you just standing out in the open like that?”

  “Because they’re like wild animals. Showing fear will make them attack. And, I don’t see anything yet. We’re probably too far away from wherever they’ve made a nest.”

  Kirsten braced a hand on the car and stood, twisting side to side while panning her view around. The electronics in her helmet didn’t show any amber ‘ghosts’ of people hiding behind objects or broken walls, so she relaxed—a little. “So, what did they mean by ‘awakened?’”

  “Ugh.” Kate sighed. “It’s a really long story. Your plan’s basically walk around until we make contact with Diabl
os, then what?”

  “Ask them who’s using rituals to kill people.”

  “Yeah, that’ll work.”

  Kirsten grinned. “I didn’t expect them to answer, but as soon as I ask, they’ll think it.”

  The Harbinger raised a large, shadowy arm, and pointed.

  “That way?”

  It nodded.

  She hurried around the back end of the derelict car, waving for Kate to follow. “Come on. This isn’t going to be as bad as I thought.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it will be.” Dorian materialized in a silvery cloud beside her. “It just won’t take as long to get bad.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Kate.

  “The Harbinger can lead us right to the people who attacked it.”

  “Neat.” Kate walked out ahead of her.

  Kirsten moved up to a jog. “Unless you can follow the Harbinger, I should be out front. And, aren’t you going to use your E-90?”

  “Good point. It is less tiring that way.” Kate pulled the laser pistol off her hip.

  “You were going to take on Diablos with just your Pyrokinesis?”

  “Usually, yeah. Not used to being able to touch a gun without melting it… and I think my pyro’s more effective.”

  Dorian laughed. “She sounds like the exact reverse of you. You almost forget you even carry a sidearm half the time.”

  “Yeah, but laser weapons barely hurt spirits. They work fine on the living.” Kirsten paused to let the Harbinger float into the lead.

  For the next few minutes, they walked in single file. The total ruin of old factory buildings, massive elevated walkways reduced to naked steel beams, and the occasional scrap of starship hull jutting up from piles of rubble made it seem like they’d gone to another planet—or played a post-apocalyptic game on a high-end senshelmet. Only, she didn’t have a ‘health bar.’ If she let a Diablo catch her off guard, there wouldn’t be a saved game to restart from.

  The Harbinger glided up to the crumbling remains of a twelve-story building. Its thin metal siding, riddled with bullet holes, peeled away from the plasticrete underneath. Spray painted symbols in a mix of red and black covered the lower two stories. Some of it reminded her of the pictograms involved in the summoning of Charazu, though she didn’t study them enough to know if she looked at legit ritualism or idiots being infatuated with ‘cool occult shit.’