Gun Blade

by Rick Scott

  “So if the Labyrinth Spirit is another AI, perhaps even a global master AI or something,” Rembrandt says. “Then perhaps the Others have disrupted her. Knocked her offline. Perhaps she’s the true source of their memories and without her stable, they’re incomplete.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” I say. “When I destroyed that sphere and the Other, it restored part of her somehow.”

  “Sounds like a good theory to me,” Gilly says with a nod.

  I then bring up the error list from earlier and post it to the party chat.

  [Error list:]

  [Core Functionality(Fast_Travel) == (False)]

  [Core Functionality(Level_Cap_99) == (False)]

  [Core Functionality(Respawn) == (False)]

  “Check it out, guys. There are three more restrictions to get rid of. Like Rem said, if we remove them all, maybe the Labyrinth Spirit will go back to normal and Karlis will get her memories back. Maybe they all will.”

  Maxis lets out a sigh. “I don’t know if we should be helping these things, guys.”

  “What?” I say. “Why?”

  “You’re assuming these things are on our side, but you don’t know that for sure.”

  “What do you mean?” Gilly asks.

  “Karlis or whatever her name is, never said they didn’t attack Citadel, right?” Maxis says. “Just that she couldn’t remember.”

  I shrug. “I guess. But the Others are definitely the ones mucking up the system, not her. If there’s an enemy, it’s them.”

  “But she didn’t know what those things were either,” Maxis says. “She didn’t even know they existed. How’s that even possible if she’s some god? Unless she’s hiding something.”

  “I agree,” Aiko says, folding her arms. “Seems like convenient memory loss to me.”

  I squint at the elf and my brother. “What are you two saying?”

  “I’m saying don’t be so quick to trust her,” Maxis says. “Whether Karlis knows or not, a Builder did attack Citadel. We know this as fact, because our city was wrecked because of it. As for why, we don’t know. Maybe Karlis truly doesn’t know and maybe she herself wouldn’t, but there are other AIs out there and they’re all different. Just like people, right? Maybe one of them is a psycho like Braxus and wants us all dead. Maybe we created the Others to cripple everything because it was our only option left and if we remove them, we doom ourselves.”

  We all go quiet at that.

  Finally, Rembrandt speaks. “You’ve got a dark view of the world, Max. Somewhat plausible perhaps, but very dark.”

  “Yeah,” Gilly says with a grin. “Like psycho paranoia dark.”

  That gets a small laugh from everyone, but Maxis fumes.

  “Go on and joke if you want!” he shouts. “I’m just trying to keep some objectivity here.”

  Oh geez, I don’t want him to go off the deep end again.

  “Max, I get it,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder. “But trust me. If there is one thing I can say for sure, it’s that when it comes to the Others, no way we created anything like them. They’re an enemy.”

  “Absolutely,” Becky says, nodding. “They are not us. I’ve experienced them.”

  “Me too,” Gilly says. “Those things are monsters for real.”

  Maxis rolls his eyes. “Fine. All I’m saying is, don’t jump into bed with the first snake goddess you meet, okay?”

  I stare at him blankly and wonder if he’s making a joke or not, but he looks dead serious.

  Finally Gilly cracks a giggle and I let loose with a laugh as well.

  “Sorry man,” I say, still laughing. “That just sounded kind of weird.”

  Maxis sucks his teeth and storms away from the group. “Just forget it.”

  Val Helena gives me an accusatory look and then follows after him. “Max!”

  Ah crap…now I’ve gone and done it.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Rembrandt says, turning to me. “He’ll come around. Max has spent the best part of two years fighting against the Builders. The idea that they might not be our true enemy is probably more of a mind blow to him than anyone else.”

  I never considered that. I thought it was just my big brother being paranoid and stubborn again. But he sacrificed a lot to keep going on these missions to the surface, to return with the nano, to find our dad. And he did it selflessly and alone for the most part. To know he was doing all that with the wrong enemy in his sights would be kind of mind shattering.

  “I probably should have been more sensitive,” I say.

  Rembrandt chuckles. “Nah. Your brother’s got a thick skin, mate. Still we shouldn’t discount what he says, completely. These AIs are all different and I know with certainty that Lennox sounds nothing like your Naga goddess.”

  I squint at him. “Lennox?”

  “The name of the AI that runs New London,” Rembrandt says.

  “What’s he like?” I ask.

  Rembrandt shrugs. “Don’t know of anyone who’s ever met him, but if I were to judge by his quests, he’s a right sick puppy, mate.”

  That gives me chills.

  “Why?” Gilly asks. “What kind of quests does he give?”

  “You’ll see when we get there,” Rembrandt says with a grin. “Speaking of which. We should probably get moving.”

  “I’m for that,” Aiko says, rising from the sand and dusting off the back of her ninja garb. “Sick quests or not, a bit of high-tech civilization would hit the spot right about now.”

  Just the mention of that has me dreaming of a nice hot shower and a proper bed. Not to mention those cheeseburgers Rembrandt was talking about before. We need to get across the wild as soon as possible.

  “You can finish telling us about your encounter along the way, Reece,” Becky says, dusting herself off as well. “I especially want to know more about what she said about that sword of yours.”

  I chuckle at that one.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”

  Chapter 8: Scout

  We travel for close to an hour, again using a combination of Shadow Wall to keep us hidden and Rembrandt’s keen navigation skills to keep us out of trouble. Aiko and I stay in contact through PMs, working off each other’s recast timers to ensure we’re never without invisibility on.

  As the process gets more routine we relax a bit and chat verbally through the party chat. First topic is the sword, of course. The great Kono-Zemsu. I tell my friends what it translates to and Karlis’ further interpretation.

  “Without limit,” I say. “That’s what it means.”

  “That’s it?” Maxis says, who is somewhere behind me along with Val Helena, although I can see neither of them right now since we’re all invisible.

  The sky has lightened some with the clouds receding, and a bit of the night sky and the crescent moon pokes through. I vaguely wonder what time it is. We’ve been fighting and running since just after sundown and my body is feeling the toll.

  “I was expecting more than that,” Val Helena says.

  “Me too,” Aiko echoes.

  “So it’s just a name then,” Becky says, sounding somewhat disappointed as well. “Suiting I suppose, since it’s basically breaking the game right now by being level 99. She couldn’t tell you anything else about it?”

  “No,” I say. “Just that she’d never seen anything like it. And she made a point to note that she didn’t create it either.”

  “Darn,” Gilly says. “I was really hoping for more.”

  “Yeah.” I say. “Me too.”

  Everyone goes quiet then, perhaps losing interest and I almost have the urge to tell them that the name is somehow referring to me. But it feels super egotistical to say something like that out loud. Especially since I’m not even sure why I feel that way. I admit saying the name to myself does fill me with a strong sense of resolve, like I can do anything, but I have no basis for it.

  It reminds me of the other reason we need to get to New London. Locked away in my head are the
true memories of my encounter with the Other inside that orb. I have only a vague impression of what occurred, but from this sword and what its name means, something important happened in there. And the technology in New London could be the key to helping me remember.

  I feel a bit like Karlis in a way—hamstrung by my lack of recall.

  Memories are powerful things. As much as I feel the name Kono-Zemsu somehow applies to me, without the memory of why, the knowledge is useless.

  “Got something up ahead,” Rembrandt says through the chat.

  My adrenaline spikes as we all come to a halt at the top of a dune. We’ve been dodging sentries constantly, so whatever caused Rembrandt to mention something specific has to be bad.

  “Is it an Omega?” Gilly asks, voicing my worst fears.

  “No, a structure,” he says. “Or a vehicle perhaps. Can’t tell.”

  “A vehicle?” That one really perks my interest. “In the wild?”

  “Could have come from New London,” Maxis says. “There’s a big street racing circuit there. How most of the players get transported there too. Stupid racing games are easy as heck to win.”

  Street racing?

  “Perhaps we should go around it,” Becky says.

  “I say we should go check it out,” Gilly says enthusiastically and I can tell her techy side has been perked by the mention of a vehicle too. “We are looking for clues to finding Citadel, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Maxis says. “But not at the risk of a fight.”

  I’m intrigued by the idea of a vehicle as well, I must admit. After spending most of my time in a fantasy-based shard, the concept is kind of foreign to me, especially since the only vehicles in Citadel are probably the lifts.

  “I think it could be a good idea,” I say. “Karlis did mention that Citadel was not within her safe zone and the Others I saw down in the mine were behind the barrier. So basically they’re below the wild. Any more intel we can get could be worth it.”

  “What do you think, Rem?” Val Helena says. “Is it safe?”

  “I don’t see any sentries nearby,” the cyberpunker replies, scanning with his mirror shades. “Probably wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Let’s just be quick about it,” Maxis says. “The last thing we need right now is a tussle with sentries or guardians.”

  “Let me switch to Thief then,” Aiko says, becoming visible as nano-dust swirls about her. “Reece and I can scout ahead. With my Awareness bonuses on Thief, I should be able to detect any trouble long before it gets close enough to matter.”

  “Cool,” I say, feeling a touch of excitement. “Let’s do it.”

  Rembrandt reappears as well, dropping stealth as he materializes a huge rifle in his hands.

  “I’ll cover for you once you’re there,” he says and drops to one knee, shouldering the massive rifle. “And don’t worry. I can still see you when invisible with this. No need to fear friendly fire.”

  “That’s a relief,” I say with a chuckle. I then look to Aiko, now in her skin-tight Thief gear. “You ready?”

  She gives me a wink and a grin. “After you, pretty boy.”

  * * *

  I cast an extra Shadow Wall, ensuring our teammates remain undercover while Aiko and I race across the dunes towards the object Rembrandt saw. We take off and with the weak lighting it’s hard to pick out exactly where it is, but we head in the general direction. We’re nearly on top of it by the time I can differentiate it from the rest of the rolling dunes.

  Rembrandt was right to call it a structure at first. Erupting through the sand is the corner of a roughly box-shaped object. And by the dimensions of the ‘corner’ it looks to be the size of a building and buried quite deep. Ancient rust stains its surface red and on top of it, there’s the remnants of a wheel and track, like something off of a bulldozer. The metal wheel is at least ten feet across and the track itself is three times that in width. Whatever this ‘vehicle’ was, it was freaking huge!

  “Is that a tank?” Aiko asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say. The most I’ve seen of tanks were in pre-war history lessons and war-based shards that occur within that era. “I don’t think they ever made them this big though. Maybe it’s a big crane or something.”

  Aiko shrugs. “No matter. Not like we’re going to dig it up to find out.”

  “Looks ancient,” I say, marveling at the thick red rust, yet also at how well it’s been preserved. “How old do you think it is? Maybe from before the war?”

  “You mean from when we nuked ourselves?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Heck if I know,” she says, letting out a scoff. “Let’s get a closer look.”

  Aiko’s footprints inch closer to the rusted-out hulk and I follow after her. She gets within about thirty feet and stops short.

  “Reece, come here!” she says in a panic.

  My heart pumps at her abrupt tone. Uh oh.

  I inch up behind her, recasting Shadow Wall just in case. “What is it?”

  “Look to the side of it,” she says. “There’s a person.”

  “What?” I strain my eyes to see what she’s talking about. Slowly as my eyes focus and adjust, I make out a humanoid figure propped up against the side of the rusted steel box. The person has a helmet on and some kind of breathing apparatus as well. A cloak or cape wrapped about their shoulders blows gently in the constant wind of the wild.

  We stare for what must be over a minute and the figure doesn’t move.

  “Are they alive?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to find out if they’re not,” Aiko says and I feel a nudge from behind. “You go check it out.”

  “What?”

  “You go first,” she says. “It’s creeping me out.”

  Great…another phobia. Not that I feel any better about the situation. I draw my kunai and creep ahead, engaging my Sneak ability. Soft sand whispers underfoot as it gives way to my weight. I try to focus on the figure to bring up what it is, but I can’t seem to target it at all.

  Weird.

  I get within about ten feet and notice a large crack in the visor of the helmet.

  I can’t say that I haven’t experienced death before, being on the surface now, but it’s been the in-game variety, where things disappear and turn into nano-dust. But this seems entirely different somehow and I can understand now why even Aiko was feeling creeped out.

  I steel myself and step closer, again trying to lock on to it.

  Nothing.

  A patchwork of cracked brown leather becomes apparent as I get within a couple feet and kneel before the figure. It’s like a suit of armor almost, but nothing like I’d expect to see in a fantasy world. It’s piecemeal and stitched together haphazardly, like different pieces of armor all thrown together at random. Through the three-inch-wide gash in the helmet, I can see only darkness.

  “Reece?” Aiko says. “What is it?”

  “Hold on,” I say.

  I exhale and cast Shadow Tendrils, becoming visible as I illuminate my kunai with a soft purple glow. I raise my blade towards the gash in the helmet and the hollowed-out eye sockets of a human skull stares back at me. I flinch away even though my mind was telling me to perhaps expect it. A queasiness then enters my stomach, as I realize I’m staring at a dead human being.

  “It’s okay, Aiko,” I say, easing away from the corpse. “They’re dead.”

  “Yuk! I really don’t want to see it now.”

  I release a sigh and glance around at my surroundings. No motion or movement, save for the gust of the wind. “I don’t see anything else here. Let’s just call the others.”

  We relay the all clear over the party chat and a few minutes later the rest of our friends arrive. We crowd around the diminutive figure sat with its back against the steel tank or crane or whatever it is.

  “Never seen armor like that before,” Rembrandt says, stooping down next to me to examine the body. “Looks like something from a post-apocalypse game.”

  “Wait. D
oesn’t that apply to us too?” Gilly says, standing back a little but peering forward inquisitively. “Technically we’re all living in a post-apocalypse. You know that, right?”

  “Good point, Gills,” Rembrandt says with a chuckle. He then touches the figure and frowns. “That’s odd.”

  “What is?” I ask, looking at him.

  “Can’t interact with any of this,” he says. “I tried to absorb it just now and I can’t even detect it on my HUD.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that too,” I say.

  “What’s that mean?” Aiko asks from way behind us.

  Rembrandt looks over his shoulder at her. “Whoever this was, I don’t think they’re part of the game world like us.”

  My skin prickles at the thought. “Were did they come from then?”

  “Maybe they’re one of the old scouts,” Maxis says, stepping closer to look over Rembrandt’s shoulder. “Back in the day, they used to send people to the surface physically. Not beam them into nano-bodies like us. But I’m talking a real long time ago.”

  “Like how long?” I ask.

  “I dunno…” Maxis shrugs. “Centuries?”

  Holy crap… this thing I’m looking at could be hundreds of years old? The thought boggles my mind as I study it with even more intensity. I then notice its right hand is clenched into a fist and a small rusted chain is hanging out of it.

  “Rem, what’s that in its hand?”

  Rembrandt reaches for the gloved hand and pries back the fingers to reveal a small rectangular-shaped pendant on a chain. He retrieves it and dangles the rusted object in front of his mirrored shades.

  “Not sure,” he says and then hands it to me.

  The pendant feels weighty in my palm as I take it from him. It’s almost half an inch thick and two inches long. As I flip it in my hand I feel something underneath the thin coat of rust on its surface. I scrape it away with my thumb and a series of impressions etched into the silvery metal below catches in the dull moonlight.

  “I think there’s something written on it,” I say and I strain my eyes to make out what it is. “Can’t really see it though.”