Ivy

by William Dickstein

  Lochlan’s right hand stuck itself so that his palm was facing outward, and one by one each of his fingers began to drop and sink down into itself until his arm ended with only his palm. Then Lochlan’s palm flipped open, splitting in the middle horizontally to reveal a device that looked like a halogen light bulb with an opaque cover on top.

  The lights of the warehouse dimmed slightly as Lochlan’s device powered up—his body tingled when the weapon was finally ready. He beat back six more robots before he pulled the trigger inside of his forearm to fire the weapon. A loud BZZT rang out and eight of the robots in front of him fell to the floor, their internal components smoking. The lights of the warehouse dimmed again and again as Lochlan continued to fight off the robots with his left hand until the device in his right hand had drawn enough power and was ready once more for use. In short order, Lochlan had permanently disabled over sixty of the robotic humanoids.

  When he was finished, his mood module about ready to burst, he looked over to Khard. The older Agent’s modifications, in spite of their lack of sophistication, seemed to be performing just as well as Lochlan’s. Khard didn’t have any hidden internal machines like Lochlan did, only internal compartments. The older Agent’s index finger had flipped back to reveal a small spigot. Khard had a pump inside of his arm that was connected to his diaphragm, so that as he flexed his stomach muscles, the liquid behind the spigot was pumped out. Hiding inside of the older Agent was something colorless and corrosive, and it ate through Khard’s metal foes almost instantly. The older agent used it to take out nearly as many robots as Lochlan had, spraying each of them with a jet of the liquid to their head and chest. An adept fighter when he was a Cape, Khard had designed the pump system to be used so that the sprays of liquid could be easily worked in during combat. Khard would land a kick to one robot, breathing in as he hit, and then breathe out to release a squirt of the liquid. Lochlan had become almost mesmerized toward the end of the display, Khard so focused on flowing from one robot to the next that it looked like he was dancing. Khard built so much momentum that, at one point, he had run up onto the wall, feet pointed at the ceiling before he kicked out, flipped himself over, and sprayed a small bit of the liquid onto three of the robots who had followed him. Khard landed on their quickly immobilized corpses before they finished dropping to the floor, only to kick out again off one of the robot’s shoulders. The older Agent turned when he flew through the air that time. Khard dropped his shoulder to flip into a half twist, carefully spraying the liquid from his finger so that it landed perfectly onto another group of robots on their heads or torsos. When the older Agent had finally finished, he turned to Lochlan.

  “I’ve still got a little bit left. Let’s get out of here.” Khard said.

  “No argument here.” Lochlan replied. “Why didn’t you use this stuff before the robots all got back up?”

  “I didn’t have any time,” Khard said as he sprayed the metal door. Khard kicked hard once the metal had stopped fizzling, his foot cracking the door down the middle. “By the time I was ready to try something else, I already had a limb on each of my ankles.”

  Khard kicked the door again, spreading the two pieces of metal farther apart, and the motor above the doorframe began to whirr. Lochlan took two steps back and asked Khard to move, then charged at nearly full speed toward the exit. He managed to shove the metal aside just enough to wiggle out, with Khard quickly following behind. A moment later, the mechanism inside the warehouse’s walls controlling the wooden and metal doors came to life anew, shoving the broken metal door out of the way as a new slab slammed down.

  “Who designs these warehouses?” Lochlan asked as they began to walk back to the car. “That seems like a lot of effort just to satisfy some… Broken Windows theory.”

  “I think it’s safe to say that the metal doors, and the robots, are related,” Khard said. “Someone was controlling both, I’m certain of it. You said you locked onto the signal?”

  “Coordinates are already queued up in the…” Lochlan’s words trailed off as the Agents reached their vehicle, of which the tires had been stripped off. The car was left sitting on cinder blocks. Lochlan’s mood module had begun to calm down as they exited the warehouse, but was already working itself back up as he surveyed their now broken transportation. Lochlan started to look around for clues, trying to find anything that might tell him who took the wheels from their car. Too bad that World Government cars don’t have cameras anymore.

  “Don’t bother,” Khard said. “How far away are we from where you tracked the signal to?”

  Lochlan pulled out his electronic notebook, calling up a quick satellite image of the area. “We could be there in about an hour, if we run. Hour and a half if we conserve some energy.”

  “How are you on fuel?” Khard asked, walking around to the other side of the car. The older Agent reached in and pulled out a couple tubes of nutrient paste. “We’ve got a few vanilla, one chocolate, and what Chief Rainch gave to us.”

  “I’ll take the chocolate,” Lochlan replied. “You thinking we need to conserve energy?”

  “If whatever we find is anything like what was in that warehouse, I’m thinking we might not have enough.”

  Lochlan and Khard took their time, moving at a leisurely pace during the journey the source of the signal. They ended up jogging six miles, Khard eventually settling into a few of his favorite running cadences from the academy.

  The Agents sang their choruses quietly until they came within a few hundred yards of their destination, Lochlan signaling to Khard as he brought up the rear of their march. Lochlan wanted to be sure that he scanned the area thoroughly, the signal eventually leading them off of Highway 20 and toward a small lake. To Lochlan the lake looked natural, but he hadn’t come across very many that weren’t manmade. The water level in the lake looked like it had recently been filled back up as well, which seemed weird given how hot the area was. The grass around the water was brown, with no clear signs of any small animal life that he could detect, as if there’d been no rain for weeks. And yet, the water level had clearly risen recently.

  The Agents continued down along the bank of the water, following the source of the signal south from the highway. As they walked, Lochlan and Khard could see a small shack just around the bend of the southernmost tip of the lake. It looked to be approximately ten feet by ten feet. Certainly not large enough to house the kind of electrical equipment that would be needed to carry a signal through the thick metal of the warehouse with the printed robots inside.

  “We’re going the right way?” Khard asked, sounding almost surprised that he had to question the younger Agent.

  “Definitely. We’re already on top of the source of the signal.” Lochlan replied. Lochlan continued to scan the area, looking for any signs of life around them, but they found none. His readings told him that the wood was decades old, weathered and very nearly ready to begin properly decaying. The treatment on the outside of the wood was finally beginning to wear off. There were no footprints, no critters or bugs. Lochlan led Khard right to the backside of the shack and stopped. “This is the exact spot,” Lochlan said. “The signal traces back to right here.”

  “It’s not broadcasting now?” Khard asked.

  “No, it’s quiet.”

  “Huh. Interesting…” Khard trailed off, walking around the side of the shack. “Come over here,” he said. On the front side of the shack, latching its single door to the frame, was a short and rusted chain, the metal so oxidized it flaked in the soft breeze. Khard grabbed the chain and easily ripped it free from the wood, the dilapidated wooden frame breaking cleanly and without splinters. Khard and Lochlan stepped inside, enough room for them both to move around but not do much else. The shack was empty, the dry grass outside leading to even drier dirt as they walked in, no flooring or carpeting underneath them. “Got to say, I expected to at least find something.”

  Lochlan’s mood module tingled lightly with frustration and he took in a long bre
ath. He flipped on another scanner, looking for something, anything worth noting in the cramped, dusty space. He thought he found a clue, nestled in the far corner, as he discovered the first signs of life in the form of decades-old mouse droppings. Lochlan continued to scan and, for all of his enhancements, his upgrades, and special modifications, he found that there was absolutely nothing there for him to see. His mood module tingled harder, and his frustration quickly turned to compacted anger.

  “Relax,” Khard said. “We’ll figure it out. Pretend this isn’t an old shack and it really is some kind of radio station. When you walked in, what would you do?”

  Lochlan’s temper had the best of him in that moment, his answer a bit smarter than he would have normally given. “I’d close the door,” he said.

  “Great idea!” Khard replied, walking over to grab the door and place it back on its hinges, setting it up so that it was once more in the place it had begun. The moment the door lined back up, the Agents heard a click in the floor underneath them, a sound that would have been much too soft for anyone without extra-sensitive hearing to detect. They stared at the floor in unison, both of them searching for the source of the click.

  “Do it again,” Lochlan said. “Open and close the door.”

  Khard did as Lochlan requested, opening the door and closing it quickly. The Agents heard the sound once more and Lochlan identified the spot on the floor it was coming from. The younger Agent dug his fingers hard into the earth, nearly chipping a robotic nail as it scratched against an unforgiving piece of metal. Lochlan shuffled his fingers around in the dirt, searching in a small circle that gradually increased in diameter. It was only a moment before he grabbed onto a handle that he could feel was ready to turn. Lochlan looked to Khard for the go-ahead and quickly pulled the handle at the older Agent’s signal. As he did, the bottom half of the far wall of the shack slid down into the floor, revealing a staircase carved in the stone. The Agents had to duck down as they entered, but were quickly able to stand up completely as they descended.

  The staircase turned during their descent, the light from the moon disappearing as they walked in five full circles and over fifty feet into the ground. It was more than ten minutes before there was any end to the steps in sight, Lochlan’s dark-vision enhancement allowing him to see perfectly in the pitch-black corridor. When they’d nearly reached the last step, the ceiling began to lower down, and Khard took the point position, walking down the last few steps in total silence. The older Agent touched down onto the balls of his feet first, then slowly slide back towards his heel, a tactic he learned before he became an Agent in The Control. It was pointless for Lochlan to emulate the maneuver, as he had shock absorbers built into his ankles that allowed him to travel just as silently, keeping his weight even regardless of which part of his foot he stepped down with.

  Khard ducked his head as he came off of the last step, stopping when he reached the bottom, the ceiling barely tall enough to fit his full form. If he had stretched his arms out to either side, he could have touched the walls. He looked back and signaled for Lochlan to follow, the younger Agent eventually dipping his head in a similar fashion. At the bottom of the staircase was a hallway leading almost a hundred feet straight ahead. Khard slowly led the two of them slowly, both Agents scanning for anything that may be waiting in the wings like a trap or an alarm. With each pass of their robotic eyes, they found nothing but stone on either side, the temperature noticeably warmer the farther along the hallway they traveled. Approximately fifty feet into their walk, Khard began to scan the far end of the hallway, eyeing the door they would eventually come to. It appeared to be made of similar wood to the shed on the surface, though it was in much better condition. The paint hadn’t worn away at all, and the chain running through the door’s handle and the wall itself, held together with a padlock, appeared to be in good shape. When the Agents reached the door, Khard leaned forward and stuck his ear to the wood, listening for any sounds on the other side. Lochlan turned his modification back on, and began searching for any radio or magnetic signals. After a moment, his internal sensors went crazy, the strength of the nearby signal strong enough it would have deafened him if he could hear it.

  Lochlan reached out and grabbed Khard’s arm, signaling silently that they had definitely found the right place. Khard pointed at Lochlan, and then at himself, holding his left arm first out to his side pointing up at the elbow, then slightly in front of him, cocking it as if he were holding a shotgun.

  “What?” Lochlan asked aloud. “What are you doing?”

  “They don’t teach you tactical hand signals? Forget it. I’m going to kick the door in, since I’m getting impatient.”

  Khard took a quick hop step and promptly kicked the wood in two, splinters flying forward with the momentum of his heavy boot. The older Agent stepped in after the kick, breaking more of the door apart with his arms to clear a path for Lochlan, the chain and padlock falling quickly to the floor.

  Lochlan and Khard entered the room, but quickly switched off their dark-vision as the space filled with fluorescent lighting from above, the automated lights flickering before turning on completely. The hallway appeared to run in tandem and been as long as the room, the door at the far end of a massive, open space nearly as big as the warehouse where they had fought the robots. Khard took note of the machinery along the far wall, following it with his eyes around a small corner and eventually seeing a large antenna. Lochlan began to scan the room, looking for any signs of life, though both Agents were surprised to find that although the space as not dilapidated, it was filled with dust and a distinct lack of life. The room was eerily quiet, the sound of the lights above traveling directly into their ears, the humming suddenly like a soundtrack for the scene around them. As they started to survey the room, more and more lights turned on above them, until the entire space was fully lit.

  Lochlan walked over to the large antenna, confirming with his internal instruments that it was the source of the radio signal. He began to search for its input to try and determine where the controls were for the warehouse, but halted when Khard called him over, the older Agent’s thoughts obviously resembling Lochlan’s. Forty feet or so from the large antenna was a station with three screens, a myriad of buttons, levers, and switches on a panel in front of them. Khard began to study the controls, noting immediately that, unlike many of the other parts of the room, the controls were warm. It was clear to him that someone had been operating several of the levers and switches earlier that evening, many of the switches on the front appearing worn from long-term use. Khard flipped the switch that appeared to be the most abused, and the wall above the three monitors slid up to reveal many, many more screens. There were over thirty when the rock had finished sliding, and each of them slowly came to life. Lochlan and Khard looked at the images on the screens, Khard recognizing what he was seeing before Lochlan.

  “There,” Khard said. “Look at the one on the left, right there. That’s the warehouse.”

  “You’re right,” Lochlan replied. “And this one over here, that’s Main Street.”

  More of the screens called up an image of another area of town, the humming of the lights above the Agents continuing to ring out as the only discernable sound in the room until an AC unit somewhere in the walls kicked on, blowing out a strong stream of cold air just above their heads. The vents on the ceiling seemed designed to keep the electronics cool, with little regard for whoever else was in the room. Lochlan noted that there wasn’t much circulation or residual cooling to be had in spite of how hard the air was blowing. The AC was so much louder than the light humming of the fluorescent bulbs that Lochlan needed to pop his ears to adjust, turning the small lever on the bottom of each ear lobe to pass the air from his middle ear to the back of his nose. For both of the Agents, the noise seemed to come at the perfect moment, as they both shared a look that seemed to say the near-silence from before had been unsettling.

  The AC had kicked on at the perfect moment for the ma
n who had just flushed a nearby toilet, as well. A tall, stout man in overalls with no shirt and enough body hair to build a bird nest walked into the room with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones on, his face glued to the screen of a tablet held out in front of him. Lochlan recognized the man from the Agents’ first conversation with Chief Rainch, when the man had rushed by Lochlan as they were leaving the police station. It was Wallace, the fifth member of the regular card night.

  Wallace turned away from the Agents as he entered the room, completely unaware of their presence. Lochlan and Khard stayed in his blind spot as Wallace walked to the other end of the room. Lochlan was caught in the wake of the man’s aroma, which smelled like a mixture of manure, fresh-cut grass, smoke, and pure musk. It was a scent complex enough that Lochlan wondered whether or not it was done on purpose, as he couldn’t imagine how someone would naturally smell that way, or engage in the variety of activities that would cause the smell to develop in a single day. Although, Lochlan realized as he got closer to Wallace that it was possible it had been much longer than a single day since the man had bathed.

  Khard positioned himself to take a look at the screen Wallace was peering into so intently, the older Agent’s eyes widening as he saw Wallace watching a channel he had only ever heard about.

  The market for private Global Television channels had exploded almost twenty years ago, many of the most popular channels in the world only available at specific times with rotating passcodes sent to members. In spite of what most people have read about the legislation that had aimed to block private television from ever existing, most were vanilla in what they displayed. There was one channel, though, the same one that Wallace was watching, that Khard had heard of, but had never gotten a password to access. The older Agent had all but forgotten about it until he saw it on Wallace’s screen, the memories surfacing of how he had almost gotten personally involved in it at his lowest point, when he had been feeling so bored with the GHS academy that he’d considered signing up to appear on the program. Khard chose to become an Agent instead.