"That's messed up," he says.
"Yeah it is, but it's part of her nature as a celestial. That's what makes her what she is."
"What's a celestial?" Lev asks.
"Gods, demons, angels, monsters," I say. "Every resident of the spiritual plane."
"Okay, man, you're gonna have to treat me like I have training wheels here," says Lev.
My mouth is getting dry. My head is getting woozy.
"Okay, picture two dimensions existing as one," I say. "Right now we're in the material plane, where there are things we can access with our senses of sight, smell, touch, and all that good stuff. But existing parallel to it is the spiritual plane. We can't see it, but it's all around us. If it wasn't for the Field, I could reach out, and it would be right there."
"What's the Field?" Lev asks.
"Celestials call it Ashyanthinasi. Elves call it that as well. We call it The Field Eternal, or The Field for short. It acts as a barrier between our plane of existence and theirs. It's technically the first layer of the spiritual plane."
"So where is it?" he asks.
"I told you, it's everywhere," I say. "Okay, well let me rephrase that. It's everywhere that there's life."
"So you're saying if it weren't for this Field, we would exist in two planes of existence right now."
"Yeah, you're getting it," I say. "But not only does it keep us from going over there, but The Field also keeps them from getting into ours."
"And by them, you mean angels and demons and gods and stuff," Lev says.
"Let me explain it like this," I say. "Every living planet in the universe has a Field. Worlds with basic life — organisms with simple cell structures — emit smaller and weaker Field energies. But worlds like ours with dynamic ecosystems, and intelligent life forms have a rich and vibrant Field. And all of these celestials — gods, angels, demons — need The Field Eternal to survive. The whole spiritual plane depends on it. It's the reason there is a spiritual plane in the first place. The Field forms the spiritual plane's most basic building blocks, like natural elements of iron, oxygen, carbon, and hydrogen form ours. Without the living, there would be no Field, and without The Field, there would be no spiritual plane, and therefore no celestials. Our lives fuel their existence. That's why celestials are always in a constant battle over worlds with rich Field sources."
"Worlds like ours," he says.
"Exactly."
"This is hurting my brain."
"The Field will do that to you."
"So what is it?" he asks. "What is this Field made of?"
"It's life energy, emotions, hopes, dreams, sins,” I say. “It's our fears, our souls. It's the energy of nature, natural forces, plants, animals. It's all there. But the most powerful component of the Field is emotion. That's what gave celestials their oomph. Before emotion came along, the Field was simple, binary, and so were the spirits living off of it. But once intelligent life evolved and added the coloring of emotion, the Field became a rich myriad of metaphysical goodies for them to munch on. The celestials became as varied as the Field sources they fed on. Some of them fed on good vibes, others on bad ones, and that's where we get the differentiation of angels and demons, of good gods and evil gods."
"So that Marchosias lady is..."
"Bad news," I say. "I mean in the demon hierarchy; she is up there. She has enough power to summon an army from the spiritual plane and bring them over to ours if she wants to. It's been bandied around that she can summon up to thirty legions of baddies."
"How much is in one legion?" Lev asks.
"Five thousand, I think."
"Holy hell," he says. "And what does she want?"
"What all powerful celestials want," I answer. "Control of The Field Eternal."
"And how is she going to do that?"
"Turning us into her slaves," I say. "She'll feed off of our despair and our fears. That was the fear that you felt back there."
"You mean when I pissed myself?" Lev asks.
"Don't worry," I say. "Everyone does that. Well maybe not exactly that, but she can evoke that effect on everyone. Call it a matter of survival for her."
"Did the fear hit you?"
"Of course it did," I say. "But I've been fighting demons for centuries, so I'm more used to it than someone who hasn't encountered that kind of being."
Lev has calmed to his normal state. He is breathing evenly, and all the stuff I said to him is starting to sink in.
"So how do we stop her?" he asks.
I chuckle. Then I cough. "Did you say 'we'?"
"Well, you're right," he says. "I'm in it now. We need to do something. I mean I'm not saying I'd do it for free. A guy's gotta live."
"First let's get me to a hospital," I say. "Then we'll work out how to kill a demon. And get you paid."
I'm fading fast. The two hour estimation I gave Lev earlier might have been a bit generous. Already the right side of my body is lifeless, and my left leg is completely alien to me — unresponsive and inert. Thankfully, the city comes into view.
From this distance the city looks like a brilliant snow globe, the top of The Dome reaching close to thirty thousand feet. Inside The Dome, the city shines bright as ever, with millions of multi-colored LED snowflakes inside, swirling, twisting, circling, rising, and diving in a beautiful dance of innovation around eleven floating districts. Oh how far we've come. All these people. All these lives.
"You might want to hurry," I say to Lev.
My voice is barely above a whisper. Lev nods and pushes on the G-Drive. I hear the H3 burn as we whoosh ahead to join the shining throng of humanity before us.
Seventeen
Lev takes me to North Memorial Hospital in District One. I haven't been at ground level in a while. District One is the site of the original Twin Cities and is the city's biggest district in terms of area.
Lev drops me off at urgent care, letting my car down on the emergency landing pad. Emergency service bots come floating out to meet us. They look like wide shouldered humanoids, with white-painted torsos made of propylcast casing. Across their chests, written in blue lettering, is the word ‘Halcyon.’ And their white faces are blank with two green lights where the eyes would be on a human.
"Lev, leave me," I say. My voice is hoarse and weak.
"What are you, nuts?" Lev says. "What if Marchosias is after me?"
"She's not."
"How do you know, man?"
"Because we're nobodies," I tell him.
The two emergency service bots come right to the passenger side. I roll down the window.
"How may we assist you?" asks one of the bots.
"I've been poisoned, causing spreading muscle death," I answer. "Severe canine bites in the right shoulder and left leg. I’ve got a shattered collarbone. I also suffered broken ribs, legs, and some internal hemorrhaging from a car accident about a week and a half ago."
"Identification please," says the bot.
"All my applicators are busted," I say.
"Fingerprint please." A fingerprint panel comes out of the service bot's body — splitting the 'Halcyon' symbol in half. I press my thumb to the panel.
"Nyyx Mara," confirms the bot. "Last check in at St.Edward’s. District 7. Please wait a moment while we perform a full body diagnostic scan."
I turn to Lev, "Find out who viewed the security footage on that Halcyon computer."
"I don't know. I'm starting to think it's gonna be impossible," Lev says.
"Lev, we need to find out who it was. Now that Marchosias has Astraea, she can start summoning a bunch of nasty creatures. It'll take her a while to summon her full potential, but even half of that would be enough to take over the world if Astraea is in her custody."
"Okay fine I'll get on it as soon as I can," Lev says.
The bot scans my body with a green light shining from its eyes. Then the bot's eyes flash with surprise.
"Code blue," the bot says with alarm. "Nyyx Mara, we will take you now."
"T
hank you."
I open the car door. Both bots pick me up with their arms. Once I am out of the car, their arms elongate as they recline me into a lying position. Then a flat surface slides over their arms, forming a gurney. The two bots carry me into the hospital, one at my head, and one at my feet. There is a slight, momentary pinch in the back of my neck. It's the anesthetic.
"Don't worry, sir," says the bot at my head. "We will take good care of you."
"I have no doubt," I say.
"Mr. Mara, I'll have you count down from ten."
"Ten...Nine...eight..."
It's day time. There are tiny vibrations all over my body. Nanobots are inside me bolstering my immune system. I can't move anything from the neck down. I turn to my left. Sunlight filters through partially open shades casting lines of light across the floor and on my blanket. I'm in a hospital room. There's beeping and whirring all around me as various health care bots float about. I turn to my right. Lev is sitting at a chair at my bedside. In front of him is a holographic computer screen. He is typing at a holographic keyboard at his knees.
"Hey," I say. My voice is dry and coarse.
"Oh, hey, you're awake,” Lev says. “Want some water?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
Lev closes his holograms and stands up off the chair. But before he takes one step to leave the room to get me something to drink, a bot comes by with a tray and a propylglass cylinder of water. Lev sits back down. I take the water from the bot's tray and drink it. Then Lev opens up his computer monitor and keyboard holograms again, and goes back to typing.
"Did you get any sleep?" I ask him.
"A little bit," says Lev. "Maybe two hours. I couldn't even sleep in my bed. I guess I got a lot on my mind, man."
A few hours ago Lev was some science geek fixing farm machinery. Now he's a guy that's fought a demon wolf and realized there's more to this world than what he's known his entire life. Also, I can't say for sure, but I think he's trying to hack into a secure corporate server being monitored by federal authorities right now.
Lev looks up from his computer as a healthcare bot glides over to my bedside.
"Mr. Mara, glad to see you awake," says the healthcare bot.
"Oh, hey, doc. How am I doing?" I ask it.
"Your injuries were quite severe,” It says. “We were able to neutralize the poison, and our medibots are helping to repair and replace a great many of your lost muscle tissue. To treat your broken bones: three ribs, your left femur, and your collarbone, we have flex-wrapped your entire body from the neck down. You are restricted to limited movement for two weeks, and then shall be evaluated further. Should you see improvement within that time frame, I would still advise you to take it easy. Would you like to have one of our health care assistants take you home?"
"No, thanks."
"All right, sir," it says. "You are free to leave at your convenience. Even though we have done all we can, and treated your injuries as best we could, I still advise you to take it easy until you’re back at a hundred percent. Thank you for your patience, and don't forget to fill out a survey to tell us how satisfied you are with your care."
"Thanks."
The healthcare bot glides away with a soft whirring.
"How rich are you?" Lev asks me.
"Very."
"What's your secret?"
"Well, I've been alive for a very long time," I tell him. "Which allowed me to build a lot of wealth through interest, and a couple of investments."
"But how do you..."
"Kyle," I say. "He's the one that changes my identity and transfers money around so that it always stays with me. He's been doing that for me for three hundred years now."
"What? Three hundred years?" Lev asks.
"He's a half-elf," I say. "He can live up to eight hundred years old or something like that. He was around a hundred when I met him."
"So Kyle's a half-elf?"
"Yup."
"So you're saying there are full elves?" asks Lev.
"You betcha," I say.
He scoffs, and shakes his head, before going back to his typing.
"What are you working on?" I ask him.
"You know what I'm working on," he says.
"Good man. Did you find anything so far?"
"I'm telling you, man, this is close to impossible."
"How long have you been at it?" I ask
"Four hours," he says.
"And you're still not done?"
"Look, I don't care how much money you pay me,” Lev says, “but if I'm going to be mucking about in the Halcyon servers while the Feds are there scouring it as well, I'm going to be pretty damned careful and take my time. Those guys are treating the bombing as if it was a terrorist attack, and not, as you say, human sacrifices to summon a demon."
"Did I tell you that? When did I tell you that?" I ask.
"You were flitting in and out of delirium throughout the night," says Lev. "You kept babbling about possessions and conjurations and The Omega Treaties."
"Oh, okay..." I say. "What else did I talk about?"
"About some woman named Emily, and your mom," he answers. "Some of it was pretty hard to follow, man."
"Well, now that I'm lucid, I can explain it better," I say. "I mean if you have any more questions."
"I have about a million questions," he says. "But I think I should make sure I am doing this right."
"So where are we on that? You found out something. I know you did."
"Of course, I found something,” Lev says. “I found a lot of stuff. Halcyon's huge. The whole point wasn't finding something. The whole point was finding one specific thing. And that specific thing you asked me to find is nearly impossible."
"Why?"
"Because whoever it was that watched that video was very good at what he or she does. Whoever it is, knows how to cover their tracks."
"How do you know?" I ask him.
"Well, first of all, it's Halcyon, they only hire the best and brightest” he says. “And the computer that was used to view, and edit the footage was in their research and innovation wing."
I let out a whistle. Halcyon is the embodiment of scientific achievement, and its research and innovation department is its crown jewel. Halcyon was founded in the early twenty-first century. It started as a car company working on energy efficient and clean engines. How they hop-skipped-and-jumped into becoming the biggest tech company in the world is an amazing feat that took several generations. They're the only name in nanotech, meditech, automotive tech, space tech, graviton tech, weapon tech, and agriculture tech. That's right. Those machines Lev, Roxx, and Kyle were once in charge of maintaining at the barn, are Halcyon machines. They are, all three, Halcyon employees.
Halcyon Inc., along with its subsidiaries, rules the roost, and have been doing so for at least a hundred years. They're the reason close to sixty billion humans can survive and thrive on this planet. And with Halcyon on Mars, I do not doubt that within another hundred years, that whole planet will be our second home in the solar system.
"Maybe that's a bit of good luck," I say.
"How so?"
"Well if the person who watched it is part of Halcyon's cream of the crop, then it's gotta be a shallow suspect pool. There can't be too many to pick from."
"Yeah, I guess."
The attack on Minneapolis/St.Paul's Halcyon branch must have been crippling. A lot of manufacturing happens here. It’s also their main research and tech facility. They have three other sites — one in New York, London, and Beijing. The one in New York serves as the headquarters for North American operations. They're the head, Minneapolis is the body. The same division of labor happens overseas. London handles the business side, while Beijing handles manufacturing and research.
"How are the other Halcyon facilities?" I ask.
"They're all right, I think,” Lev answers. “I mean all I've heard on the news are outpourings of support and stuff and plans to get things back to working order over here as
soon as possible. The Beijing branch is going to have to pick up a ton of slack."
"Let's keep track of it," I say. "If I was Marchosias, and I wanted to enslave humans, I'd target Halcyon. I'd send us back to the dark ages, and kill a bunch of us in the process."
"How would she even know about Halcyon or its operations?" asks Lev.
"She has help," I say. "Someone from this world summoned her — someone powerful and talented in magic. And if the guy who watched that video is also involved, then we can extrapolate that they know Halcyon pretty well. So there are at least two people at work here. One of them is good at magic, the other at tech. And they worked together to summon one powerful demoness."
"Right. I'm going to agree with you because some of that stuff still doesn't make any sense to me."
"We are up against a wall, Lev. You have to — Wait a second. Did you say they edited the video? Yeah, you did. You said the computer they used to view and edit the footage was in the research and development wing."
"Yeah I did say that, and yes they cut it right up," he says.
"So the footage we were watching last night was—"
"Doctored."
"How do you know?" I ask him.
"I was able to find traces of a longer recording from that day. But it was deleted, and torn to shreds," he says.
"What kind of traces?" I ask him.
"The electronic kind."
"You think that those traces can be pieced back together so we can see the original footage?" I ask.
"Are you serious? Do you know anything about computers?"
"No,” I say, “but there must be a way, right? There's always a way. Isn't there?"
"You don't understand,” says Lev. “Remaking the whole footage from its traces is near impossible. It would be like bringing someone back from the dead. The best we can do is try to find that original footage."
"And there's a way to do that?"
"The chances are slim," he says. "Okay, so this is what happens: all security footage is on a continuous stream-and-save until it hits the end of the day when it's cut off and stored away. What this person did was cut, loop, and replace a part of the raw footage."
The Irispire Portal Page 11
