《Shaper of Metal — Post Apoc LitRPG》 Chapter 1: The Suspicious Client Chapter 1: The Suspicious Client Jack rushed through his morning like a bat out of hell and was forced to skip breakfast. It was pure disaster, he knew ¡ª tragedy. He always had breakfast. Suddenly breaking a solemn routine? There would be consequences. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a shit day.¡± So Jack, The Prophet of Jack¡¯s Life, decreed to the apartment building¡¯s empty elevator on the way down. No breakfast because he absolutely was not going to be late two days in a row. There was no justification for it, either. None. He¡¯d stayed up late for no reason scrolling on his phone. Digitally-wired willfulness. And just when he was rushing outside into the groundside parking lot to get to his car, his eyes took in the sight of a family of four filing into a squat vehicle. A middle-aged man carrying a youngster in his arms caught Jack¡¯s eye ¡ª pivoting the child to one hip, he smiled and waved jovially at Jack, calling, ¡°Happy Chromey Day!¡± Jack froze in sheer horror, confronted with the awful reality that he¡¯d already been proven right. His hand came up weakly to wave, though his mouth couldn¡¯t bear to say the words. It hung open. The kid¡¯s shirt burned into Jack¡¯s retinas as if he¡¯d zoomed in on it like an eagle. It was colorfully emblazoned with the proof of his day¡¯s damnation: The legendary Chrome Giant, deceased Champion of Humanity, one of the first and most iconic heroes of New Babylon. The garish image of the shirt mimicked a famous photo: the giant posing with a thumbs-up, wearing a ¡®bearded¡¯ metal grin, while an entire classroom of gleeful Mulberry Heights third-graders sat on his arms and shoulders. That same scene had become a statue in his honor upon his death. To further commemorate his life in service, a holiday was instituted for all of New Babylon. Chromey Day. The family disappeared into their vehicle, and Jack did a slow facepalm. Chromey Day. Hell day, endless clientele. Great. Just great. Jack shook it all off and hurried into his car, reaching over to the vidscreen in the center of his dash to tap the ¡®Available!¡¯ button on the SuperRide Taxi Agency login screen. It flashed a ¡®Success!¡¯ message, and a slightly robotic, cheery feminine voice resounded, ¡°You are two minutes late from the target start time. One pickup is awaiting approval! Due to the holiday and clientele volume, automatic response and pickup is requested by the agency. Accept?¡± Jack leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath. Automatic chain pickups. He could refuse and go at his own pace, but his supervisor, Pat, would be ¡®disappointed¡¯ for him not helping out. He¡¯d been down that road ¡ª a little turnoff called Guilt Trip Alley. Dismissing the idea, he straightened, buckled up, and declared, ¡°Frag it! Let¡¯s get it done cause that¡¯s what we do. We don¡¯t cry about shit. Right? Right. Accept it, Alice.¡± The name of his car. ¡°Time to make some scratch. I could always use an extra benny or fifty.¡± ¡°Agreed and acknowledged, Jack,¡± Alice answered supportively. ¡°Would you like to activate priority custom requests as well?¡± Jack blinked. ¡°I thought it wasn¡¯t allowed with automatic pickups?¡± ¡°Your supervisor cleared you two weeks ago for perpetual priority access, regardless of clientele volume. It hasn¡¯t been relevant until today.¡± Jack smiled for the first time all morning. Priority requests, often to distant locales, broke up the routine and could be big money. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned. He loves me! Do it, Alice!¡± ¡°It is now activated. Take note that priority goes to pilots closer to their dropoff.¡± The vidscreen switched to a route map displaying the first pickup. Luck-based, eh? Here¡¯s hoping. Disengaging the Anchor power effect with the shift of a lever, Jack took the wheel of his vehicle and eased his way up into the air. He flipped several dials and pressed his boot on the pedal to accelerate the MALPP drive ¡ª Memoria-Allotted Levitation Power Protocol. Without it, without Memoria¡¯s blessing, essentially, Alice was just a frame of reinforced aluminum and some batteries for the electronics. A metal brick. It was the same for all of the Babs, aka New Babylon, a tower and a city in the sky, built to shelter mankind for the last stand against the monsters and horrors out in the ruined, warped Earth beyond. Humanity¡¯s goddess-like ¡®Archon,¡¯ Memoria, forged and maintained the entire system, but she couldn¡¯t do it alone, not with the booming population she¡¯d spawned. Her time, focus, and the processing power of her prodigious mind were precious. Others had to play their part, sometimes by borrowing a little sliver of her great power, to varying degrees of reverence. So Jack played his, a pilot to take people wherever they wanted to go quicker than sin. Some days were slow, but a holiday was a madhouse keeping up with a population that had more than doubled in twenty years to four million. Soon enough, Jack was in his groove transporting clients. He zipped all across the primary platform that was New Babylon Proper, twenty-five kilometers in every direction from the tower core. He took people Downtown, to the smaller, higher Origin Platform, and various shindigs in other districts. Some ended up late to ¡®important¡¯ events ¡ª like some speech from the Prime Minister ¡ª and did they blame themselves? Of course not! ¡°Yeah, screw you to Sunday, buddy!¡± Jack yelled out of the window at a departing client who¡¯d muttered something rude about being one minute late. ¡°Go cry to Momma Mem. You¡¯re going on my block list, by the way!¡± And now sacrilege. Sorry, Memoria! Hangry, I¡¯m officially hangry. At least I didn¡¯t curse. It¡¯s ¡®against agency policy.¡¯ Psh! I need food. He was just in a bad mood. No breakfast. And even his snack reserves betrayed him ¡ª he rummaged around furiously, but they were just gone, and who could¡¯ve possibly taken them?! He knew there was half a bag of pecan halves and an unopened bag of Healthy Tarts bean chips left in the middle alcove! But by some absurd mysterious conspiracy, they were nowhere to be found. It was just spooky. Did someone steal my snacks? Who would do such a thing? Did birds get in here? Regardless, the heroic needs of the day precluded him from taking a break to get food. He should¡¯ve had breakfast ¡ª he knew he should have! Worst of all, he couldn¡¯t get a priority request to land at the right time to save his life. He checked logs to see there were quite a few but they went to other pilots while he was too early in a given transportation job. Frag my luck. Cut me a break, Momma Mem! The day isn¡¯t over yet. By the time he finally got a break from the maddening back and forth of the long morning, he¡¯d lost his appetite completely. When the auto-routing finally switched off, he flew over to Downtown¡¯s Tower N¡¯ Go and got a Black-As-Night Super Caffed tea, deciding that he was fasting. A caffeinated tea fast? Maybe he was on to something. Bah. Like I need it! I might not be as fit as my service days, but I¡¯m fine. Got a solid medium build. His smartphone vibrated, so he pulled it out for seemingly the first time all day. His boss, Pat, had just sent him a text. Jack rolled his eyes and sent back as he sipped his tea, wishing it was coffee. That wasn¡¯t in the cards for Joe Schmoe Public. Too expensive. In the military, it was even encouraged for long-distance pilots. He missed that heavenly liquid, but knew the servicemen out there more than deserved the priority allocation for all the shit they had to deal with. All too well. While he was trying to relax yet caffeinate in the hovering car, a priority custom request blipped on his screen. ¡°Accept!¡± Jack called immediately, before some other authorized agent took it¡­ Boom! He got it! ¡°Yes! Hell yeah, baby! How about that, Alice?¡± ¡°It appears very promising, Jack!¡± Alice replied cheerily. Not everyone could take a transport beyond the city limits ¡®out from Proper¡¯ into open sky, where smaller communities had their own levitating platforms at varying distances. But 70, 80, maybe even over 100 bennies as a tip was insane. He could make more than he had all morning in one go. Assuming these ¡®private details¡¯ work out. Guess we¡¯ll see. The route map directed him to Chen Zero Station, the core tower train station at the base of the platform where innumerable lifts within the massive structure took citizens, equipment, and products up and down. Individual citizens getting off could take the subway, the old novelty of the above-ground train, or get a levitaxi. He flew Alice over to the open-air vehicle levipad platform, where numerous other levicars could be seen touching down near their waiting clientele. Some vehicles were the old standard-issue ¡®Dragonfly¡¯ taxi chassis, classy if boring constructs painted white with one fat yellow stripe wrapping diagonally around. Newer arrangements were less particular. Alice was a custom-built chassis inspired by the old world 1956-57 Chevrolet Bel Air Nomad, a stylish ¡®station wagon,¡¯ albeit without wheels. Her color was a light silver with the required yellow on the back and flaring on the ¡®wings¡¯ to either side. People loved her ¡ª men smiled, and children pointed as she flew over. They loved to fly with her, too. She was a moneymaker, a one-of-a-kind smoker of the competition. Those lame ass Dragonflies ate her dust. Jack caught sight of his potential client from above and waved from the window. The man waved back. He was in a drab shirt, pants, and a cargo vest with a large backpack on his back. He was in his mid-to-late thirties, Jack guessed. Alice touched down in a safe zone, a rectangular parking spot divided by rows of yellow caution panels that would light up brightly and chime when stepped on. As Alice came to a stop hovering in place, the backpacked man walked over, a smile on his face from around a herbal cigarette and a chin that needed a shave. ¡°She¡¯s a beauty! Didn¡¯t know I¡¯d be flying in style today.¡± He took a small metal case out from a pocket, flipping it open to reveal rows of cigarette tops. He gestured to Jack. ¡°Ciggy?¡± Jack returned the smile. ¡°No thanks, trying to quit.¡± His automated response, though he¡¯d quit for three years. Better for the clientele, for one. ¡°Assuming these arrangements work out, you¡¯ll ride like an Old World king. Where you headed?¡± The man was taking a last puff as Jack replied, and then he smothered it in the waiting metal tube of the pack. He leaned on the open second door window of Alice to inspect the interior, blowing smoke out to the side and away. In addition to the herbal smells, Jack got a whiff of mechanical grease. From that and a few other subtle cues, it was probable that the man was from Southtower, the very bottom part of New Babylon. It didn¡¯t have any prominent platforms, just inner works, and the majority of it was industrial or related to transportation and processing from groundside. Nonetheless, people lived there, and that scent tended to stick. ¡°Overflow Three,¡± the man replied, nodding approvingly to what he saw within the car. His eyes came up to regard Jack. ¡°Got something sensitive to deliver to my boss. I was supposed to get a direct pickup, but shit happens, I guess, and this can¡¯t wait. Rush-rush, hence the bens. You¡¯re a lucky guy. Want to split it with me? I got four kids.¡± Jack chuckled and shook his head. ¡°Fraggin'' Chromey Day, eh?¡± ¡°Fft.¡± The man exhaled and shook his head along with Jack. ¡°Yeah, and here we are working our asses off, eh little brother? Bunch of bullshit.¡± ¡®Little brother.¡¯ Definitely from Southtower. Noticing something else with a trained eye, Jack nodded his head at the man¡¯s thick vest and asked, ¡°You¡¯re packing a weapon?¡± The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Good eye.¡± He pulled the vest to the side to reveal a small, orangish handle showing from an inner pocket, a buttoned strap holding it in place. ¡°Electric stunner, is all.¡± Jack nodded, verifying the claim with a glance. The sleek orange material was distinctive for the most popular brand, Polylectric. Not cheap. ¡°Okay, so¡­ Overflow Three, that¡¯s like sixty kilos from the edge and self-governed. You didn¡¯t put that into your request. Do you realize not everyone who can go off Proper is authorized to enter self-governed territory? Or would want to?¡± The man scratched the back of his neck. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ not exactly. But the thing is, the boss wants this off-logs, no recorded crap. Hush hush.¡± Jack looked away, letting out a long ¡®tsh¡¯ sound. Off-logs. This is some shady shit. ¡°Heeey,¡± the man started, ¡°look ¡ª what¡¯s your name, again?¡± ¡°Jack.¡± ¡°Tanner. Look, Jack, I know what you¡¯re thinking, but this shit is no big deal, man! I can show you the part. My boss is just a paranoid old bastard who thinks Big Sister watches his every move. He¡¯s building a prototype machine. For a mechanical harvester or something? Even I don¡¯t know what the part does.¡± Jack met Tanner¡¯s eyes. ¡°Mechanical harvester? For what?¡± ¡°Hell if I know, little brother. Farm stuff, I think. He¡¯s into primitech, though.¡± Jack frowned and looked away again. ¡®Primitech¡¯ generally meant technology designed to function without Memoria, which she and the government she operated fully supported, even in the core territories. Ostensibly for independence, possible integration beyond the borders of her influence, and hypothetical survival without her. She gives people superpowers, levitates a practical mountain of metal, provides and directs armies of puppet drones, and enforces her will over the land and weather. Pretty sure we¡¯re screwed without her. But everybody needs a hobby, right? Tanner was already pulling his backpack off and unzipping it to flash the item within. It was a big hunk of metal with numerous bolts and a few cylindrical openings. ¡°Looks like a generic transmission,¡± Jack said. ¡°Does it?¡± Tanner spoke without real interest as he looked from the part up to Jack and back again. Then he shrugged and zipped it back up. ¡°So are we doing this, Jack, or do I find somebody else? Sorry. Rush rush, you know?¡± Jack deliberated. He wasn¡¯t at all sure it wasn¡¯t still shady, but just how shady would someone get using a taxi service? On a popular holiday, normal operations going haywire was more than plausible. An impatient, wealthy boss man? Extra plausible. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. All for some stupid gearbox. Pulling out his phone, Jack replied, ¡°Send a hundred and fifty bennies to my account right now, the same when we arrive, and you got yourself a deal.¡± He set his phone to beam for funds reception through an app and held it out to Tanner. ¡°Off books, no official record.¡± Wincing and looking off, Tanner nonetheless pulled out his phone, typed briefly, then held it toward Jack¡¯s own. Within moments, both phones made a ¡®Kaching!¡¯ noise and the credit was transferred. ¡°No sympathy for my kids, I see. You¡¯re a damn pirate, Jack.¡± Despite his words, Tanner grinned good-naturedly. Jack chuckled as he reached over to the central vidscreen and canceled the official pickup, then logged entirely out of the job system. ¡°Memoria will take care of her children. I need to fund my vacay from this shit.¡± ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? With his client in the backseat, the backpack stowed in the rear compartment, Jack took off for the airways above The Babs. They first circled around the central tower before taking a northeastern bend over the tree-peppered cityscape. Overflow Three was perpendicular to the central platform, so it was a straight shot. It was mostly made of storage and distribution warehouses for numerous self-governing communities with surplus goods bound for elsewhere. It was also out of the perception and control of Memoria. Independently-piloted levitation was about the only power of hers allowed by default, according to contract. He¡¯d read a little of it. Tanner was initially quiet, texting at length on his phone. Jack flicked on the radio, guessing his client might prefer it. More nasty weather from the west, storms likely in a few days. It was bad for the West but not a major concern for New Babylon directly. In the service, transports west were hated by the majority of pilots. Jack had taken them often. Someone had to do it, after all. Rain or shine, packages and people needed delivery. ¡°Well, the boss seems content,¡± Tanner said suddenly, catching Jack¡¯s eyes in the rearview. ¡°As close as he gets, anyway.¡± Jack nodded politely as he reduced the volume on the radio. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± ¡°Good enough.¡± Tanner looked out the window. By then, they were past the central platform¡¯s edge, in open sky peppered with other floating platforms, most of them bowl-shaped. Far below, forested mountains and valleys could be seen on the surface of the Earth. ¡°You from off-plat, Jack? Got a bit of an accent.¡± ¡°Kinda. Spent some time on a farm, but you¡¯re probably just hearing the tongue of the well-traveled. I was a long-haul transport pilot right out of military school. Been to the outer ring. All over.¡± ¡°Holy shit! I¡¯m being ferried by a damned professional! Guess I¡¯m safe and sound. Saw some shit out there?¡± ¡°You could say that. But if I told you the details, I¡¯d have to kill you.¡± The canned response to such questions. Tanner laughed. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll pass, then. Just taking it easy, now, huh?¡± ¡°You bet.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t blame you. I put in the minimum and got out. To the Mems'' relief, no doubt. Not cut out for it. Good thing I didn¡¯t end up one of the Nons. I¡¯d be a real frag off among frag offs.¡± Jack shifted uncomfortably. ¡®Nons¡¯ was short for the Agents Nonpareil, a special military title separated from the greater Agents Exemplar, for the contracted superpowered ¡ª the Champions. The true Children of Memoria and wielders of the System. Shrouded in mystery but for special famous exceptions, Jack knew a little more than most. Knew a few of them, even, during his time. All classified. The most incredible thing, though, was that Memoria talked to them. ¡°Mother is always here with us, Jack,¡± the wounded Non had said. But he pushed away that particular memory. It was a bad one on multiple levels. ¡°They¡¯d be stuck with us, then,¡± Jack said instead, trying to project his customary levity. ¡°Who needs that kind of trouble?¡± He was entirely full of shit ¡ª who wouldn¡¯t want fraggin'' superpowers? ¡ª but whatever. ¡°That¡¯s what I say. Anyway, Momma Mem¡¯s got more than she can handle coming down the pipes. The Nons boomed just like all the other babies.¡± ¡°That¡¯s probably the idea, yeah.¡± A larger population seemed to correspondingly have a higher number of the worthy to pick out from among them. Memoria had also encouraged big families many generations back. ¡°Our ancestors did their part banging and breeding.¡± Tanner snickered. ¡°Me too, little brother. Me too. What about you?¡± ¡°No kids. Wasn¡¯t inclined with the dangerous job.¡± ¡°Okay, but now you¡¯re a taxi man. No time like the present!¡± ¡°Ehhh. Don¡¯t hold your breath.¡± ¡°Ha! You¡¯re twenty-something, right?¡± ¡°Twenty-five.¡± ¡°Plenty of time, then.¡± Earth¡¯s sun was out, rolling its way down the horizon, teasing at setting. It would do so in the evening but there wouldn¡¯t be full darkness for another two weeks, just gradients of twilight. In the Old World, Antarctica was supposedly totally frozen over, even the mountains buried in ice. Sunken. That was a tough pill to swallow for Jack. While New Babylon got plenty of snow, he¡¯d only ever seen the Earth¡¯s surface green and temperate. What was done to the world centuries ago wasn¡¯t ¡®natural¡¯ ¡ª nor was any Archon¡¯s ongoing influence of a region to suit its species. That included Homo Sapien, who in their final hours had finally unraveled the alien tech to birth their own reality-altering savior. Memoria¡¯s will kept the madness of the invaders out of their territory. Mostly. She was hardly omnipotent, and on the outskirts, she relied a great deal on her Champions and soldiers. Overflow Three loomed as Alice approached. It was a large mass of land sitting on an iron-alloy levitation frame in the shape of something like a fat funnel. The dashboard made a triple beep as the vidscreen displayed Tanner let out a sigh. ¡°Finally.¡± ¡°Spent a long time below, did you?¡± ¡°Longer than I wanted, anyway.¡± He nodded his head to indicate ¡®over there.¡¯ ¡°Head straight for the green-striped silos and fly over them. Tons of warehouses. We¡¯re close to the fire station.¡± They made their way over the silos as Tanner directed him. Jack landed and Anchored Alice in an open, all-concrete back area for loading and unloading. He noticed a few rare, primitech ground-bound forklifts. In every direction, there was nothing but warehouses, offices, pallets, and crates. Jack¡¯s client sent the bennies with his phone before he even stood up out of the vehicle. Kaching! Smiling as he opened the door, Tanner said, ¡°S¡¯been a pleasure, Jack. Don¡¯t spend all the money in one place.¡± ¡°No promises. Take it easy, yeah? Don¡¯t forget your bag in the back.¡± As Tanner was stretching and yawning outside the vehicle, he nodded and gave a thumbs-up. Directly ahead, a door burst open rather violently from the warehouse, and a bizarre figure came through. She was small and blue¡­ some kind of modded-out human, was Jack¡¯s first bewildered thought. Her face had soft, feminine features peppered with darker spotting, her eyes were quite large, and instead of hair, there was a mass of squid-like tentacles curling down. She was wearing an oversized white t-shirt. What the¡­? Jack was completely stunned by this development, as she easily hopped over some steel safety handrails from a concrete walkway platform down to the lower ground level. Tanner was not so unreactive. ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted in alarm at the figure. ¡°What the frag are you doing?! Stop!¡± Terrified, widened eyes flashed to him briefly in response, before the girl started running directly down the length of the building. Sadly, she tripped immediately and tumbled to the concrete, also revealing a tail in the mix of her oddities. She began scrambling back up onto her bare, webbed feet. Tanner took a couple of steps forward down the length of the vehicle and pulled out his stunner from his vest pocket, his expression transforming into a harsh grimace. The jovial, easygoing persona vanished. ¡°Tanner!¡± Jack called loudly to be heard through a closed window. ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡± The man muttered something like, ¡°Stay out of it, taxi boy,¡± as he brought his weapon up and began training it on the strange girl. Meanwhile, she was just getting up and trying to resume her frantic escape. Jack could not stay out of it. He reacted on adrenaline and military training bubbling up ¡ª reacted by his nature to help someone in distress. With Tanner immediately by the driver''s side door, still training his stunner at an angle over the hood at the girl, Jack opened his door and slammed it hard into the man. The door hit Tanner before he could fire, and he pitched and buckled from the impact. His finger pulled the trigger a split second after ¡ª a point-blank lightning bolt went off ¡ª such was the angle it hit the metal car door in contact with him. Jack initially turned away from the flash. He was never in danger of electrocution ¡ª levicars were always made with non-conducting interior compartments and essentially designed to be safely struck by lightning. When Jack looked again, Tanner was twitching on the concrete spread-eagled, otherwise incapacitated. He¡¯d not taken the zap well. Shit! What did I just do? What the frag did I just do?! When he got over his momentary shock and looked up, the squid girl was nowhere to be seen, likely behind the cover of any number of pallet piles, crates, or building contours. That¡¯s my cue to get the hell out of here, too! Jack closed the door and un-Anchored, shooting straight up and away with the levitation drive. No sooner than he¡¯d cleared the rooftops, numerous men began spilling from the door the squid girl had come from. They looked frazzled and angry, and all but one carried orange-handled firearms. One of them instead had a rifle with a wide barrel, perhaps a dart gun. Either they were incurious or deprioritized the man unconscious on the ground, because they ignored him and began moving out in all directions, obviously just as frantic to find the squid girl as she was to escape. Great. Well, good luck, blue person. Southern Lights Above, what kind of shit are these independants doing out here?! A fraggin'' squid girl? I don¡¯t wanna know, and I don¡¯t want anything to do with¡­ this¡­ He suddenly remembered the backpack still sitting in the back compartment of the vehicle. ¡°Shit, shit, shit¡­ shit!¡± He smacked his fist into the car door frame and then ran a hand hard through his hair, deliberating. How important is this stupid ass gearbox, anyway? Assuming Tanner didn¡¯t have a heart attack, he knows me. Will they come after me? Maybe I should drop it somewhere and get a message to them where to pick it up¡­ promise I saw nothing and won¡¯t be a narc¡­ but this shit is suspicious as hell¡­ Ah, frag me! Why me?! It¡¯s because I skipped breakfast, isn¡¯t it?! Shaking his head, Jack took the wheel to begin taking off at speed, not knowing fully where he¡¯d go or what he¡¯d do¡­ but he still hesitated. What about the girl? She¡¯ll make it. She¡¯s just got to run straight long enough. Plenty of places to hide. Easy. But there¡¯s no true nightfall for weeks. Gah! Why do I even care? I don¡¯t. Let¡¯s just go. It¡¯s her problem, whoever she is. But really, a squid girl? He¡¯d seen some people with blue skin, purple skin, and more, along with other mods like cat eyes or horns, all as rare personal expressions done by a few specialists, but she was something else. Advanced. And was it personal expression at all? Was she some weird¡­ aquatic modification experiment? It seemed ridiculous. The terror in the girl¡¯s eyes as she fled came back to him. Like she was looking at Death coming for her. Muttering balefully under his breath, Jack engaged the vidscreen menu and activated his bottom-facing camera, surveying the scene below under physical and digital magnification, and rather blurry for it. But he wanted to stay high enough to avoid notice. The men pursuing were swarming, and worse, a couple of observation drones were flying just over the rooftops. He didn¡¯t immediately catch sight of the girl, which was definitely a good thing. As he flew over the area and swept his camera from block to block, he began to feel like she¡¯d gotten away, after all¡­ And then he zoomed back out and saw one drone hovering stationary near a fence ¡ª two men in security uniforms looked puzzled as they eyed a fallen figure a few meters from the fence. Blue-gray skin, white t-shirt. Meanwhile, several of the searching men who had been nearby were rushing down the street to get there. Grayer skin ¡ª camouflage? Damn. She¡¯s been had, though. I wonder what dropped her. The security guards weren¡¯t pointing any weapons. Did she just pass out? Jack watched as two men got there, stowing their weapons before approaching the fence. They conversed with the security guards briefly before climbing over, apparently to the protest of the guards. On the other side, the ¡®invaders¡¯ pulled out their electro-stunners and zapped the two guards, dropping them immediately. Then they were zapped again on the ground. These boys don¡¯t play around. Shit! Now what? Jack didn¡¯t have a weapon. ¡®Against policy.¡¯ He could report it to the Farmers Alliance Bureau governing the Overflow, but it wouldn¡¯t amount to much. The security guards weren¡¯t killed, so it was already going to be an incident between groups. She was worth it, apparently. The two men began laboring to get the girl over the fence, who remained unresponsive. Jack wasn¡¯t sure, but she might¡¯ve been fatigued or weak. She¡¯d stumbled over her own feet before, so perhaps she¡¯d simply fainted. A third man arrived to help the first two get the girl over, and they finally succeeded. They soon rushed away, one of them carrying her in his arms. With a sudden jerk, the girl awoke and almost immediately jerked even harder, making her carrier lose his balance and pitch down to the street in a tumble. A struggle ensued as they grappled with her, and she fought desperately to get free. Despite appearing weak, she was¡­ not ¡ª not entirely ¡ª because three grown, beefy men were having a hell of a time with her. When Jack checked, the other searchers were still a ways out from getting there. Screw it! I¡¯m going in. Jack put his drive in reverse and began dropping Alice rapidly to the street. The drone was overhead in observation, but below Alice. Jack took a sharp angle to bump it and knock it clear of the struggle. It never saw him coming, and he slammed Alice into it hard enough to smash the frame and ruin multiple rotors. It crashed into a building and broke into multiple pieces. Ha! One down. One of the men finally had the squid girl locked from behind as another had her legs, and it seemed she had finally been subdued. But then, some sort of barely registerable pulse resonated from her, and everyone dropped. Whatever it was, it briefly caused Jack¡¯s indoor electronics to flicker. Holy unholy hell¡­ Jack un-reversed his MALPP drive and Anchored with a very careful gradient to prevent his own sudden and painful stop. As such, he pulled off his quickest ¡®landing¡¯ ever in Alice, on a no-name street near a no-name intersection between drab, gray buildings. Jack hurried out of the vehicle to the girl¡¯s incapacitated form. Her eyes were closed, but her eyelids fluttered, and she seemed to writhe and twitch like she wanted desperately to awaken. Her fingers and toes were twisted up unnaturally. ¡°Look, I¡¯m taking you away from them,¡± Jack offered as he knelt to pick her up. ¡°So don¡¯t, ah, do whatever you did again, eh? I¡¯m friendly, okay? Friendly.¡± She did not seem to hear him, instead twisting sideways as if to roll. In contrast to everything else, the tentacles on her head moved around with a will of their own. It looked as if they were trying to grip the ground and move her ¡ª to no avail. This is so damned weird. Is she a Non? No way. Memoria wouldn¡¯t tolerate this shit, even out here. Right? Muttering to himself, Jack scooped her up. She was small and slight but somewhat heavier than she appeared. She did not immediately respond well to touch, writhing agitatedly in his arms, but he managed to stumble up to his feet with a grunt. Meanwhile, her tentacles were flaring around, the bottom-most latching onto his forearm under her, and her tail¡­ started slapping his leg. Her body jerked once violently on the way to the vehicle ¡ª like a giant, flopping fish. It was a force that almost sent him and her to the pavement like the other guy, but fortunately, he was moving slower and was more prepared for it. ¡°Easy, easy! I¡¯m helping ¡ª helping!¡± Jack called desperately as he nearly threw himself at the frame of the Anchored levicar for balance. ¡°Friendly!¡± Three tentacles extended out toward his face and wriggled as if trying to grab it. Oh, hell no! The smaller ones closer to her face suddenly changed shape and texture, becoming a pantomime of luscious, purple hair in many shades. What the-...? ¡°Alice, open the rear driver side!¡± It clicked open, and he used his foot to pry it outward. Suddenly, the squid girl shot awake with a gasp, and before Jack could say anything, she pitched forward and locked eyes with him. Her long-fingered, webbed hand snapped around and effectively slapped him in the face, but the hand held there afterward and gripped. Then she pulled herself and him so close they were eye-to-eye. Hers were rectangular black bars framed in a vibrant blue and green spectrum. Perhaps more octopus than squid. Octogirl, then? With an intense expression, she cried frantically, ¡°Pah''kley o''mas eka tezley?! Kalabei oss?!¡± Jack was stunned for half a moment, wide-eyed with a stinging cheek. He certainly had no idea what she said. ¡°You¡¯re free! I¡¯m Jack! Jack Laker? A friend!¡± She seemed to stare in confusion briefly, then her eyelids drooped woozily ¡ª shortly thereafter, both her head and her hand did, too, as she passed out once more. Unfortunately, her tentacles did not pass out, and they had latched onto and around his head from the closeness. The ¡®hair lure¡¯ act, meanwhile, was entirely abandoned. Ahhhh, they¡¯re fraggin'' moist! Somehow, he managed to fall his way into the backseat, unfortunately pulled along by the powerful grip of the squid girl¡¯s many head tentacles. Once she was laid down on the fabric, some of them unlatched to peruse the new texture. Others still held to his head and jaw, while a couple busied themselves exploring his face. ¡°Okay, okay, okay,¡± Jack offered, trying to gently pry them off with his hands. ¡°Th-that¡¯s my face! I need it! I¡¯m your pilot ¡ª we gotta get out of here!¡± He made spitting sounds as one tried to snake into his open mouth. ¡°Ptah-ptah!¡± This made the tentacle jerk away in offense. Finally, he managed to pull completely away, sheer leverage against half of them enough to conquer their willfulness ¡ª that or they finally bored of him. He wasted no time, immediately ducking out and shutting the door to hop into the driver¡¯s seat. Wiping his ¡®overly-moisturized¡¯ face on a sleeve, Jack shut the door and engaged the MALPP drive. Ahead, he could just see two men in the distance, one pointing at the vehicle. Jack scowled. ¡°Too late, shitstains.¡± He flew up and away on a high-speed tear. Chapter 2: Away, to Eden! Chapter 2: Away, to Eden! Anchored below the tree cover of the platform known as the Yairu Reservoir, under the jurisdiction of the independent Industrial Fellowship, Jack ran two hands over his face and cursed his luck. He¡¯d really done it this time. He could smell foul consequences for his actions on the wind, and oh, how it stinked. It wasn¡¯t the Reservoir, either ¡ª they¡¯d fixed that. He looked in the rearview mirror, already adjusted to observe the octogirl. It wasn¡¯t exactly easy, as her body had changed color to match the interior fabrics ¡ª silver and golden-yellow. It was significantly spoiled by the huge white shirt, however. She had tossed and turned most of the way but never awoke. The camouflage came and went. But she was quite still, right then, with even her head tentacles and tail barely moving. When he looked closely, her face seemed pained. Strained. Her breathing was labored and heavy. There was a soft sound with each breath, perhaps a wheeze. ¡°What am I going to do with you?¡± Jack muttered, sighing. ¡°I need you to wake up. And speak English while you¡¯re at it. Just tell me where to take you. Tell me what¡¯s safe for you. Please?¡± She did not react. What few mutters she had made during the trip had not sounded like English, in any case. Jack frowned. If I take her to Origin Medical, she¡¯ll be reported to every high authority and possibly get whisked away. I need to know if she wants to be exposed to the Mems. She wanted away from her captors, whoever they were, but that is not enough to go on. Not enough for a destination. And that was all he was doing, after all. Giving someone a ride who needed it. No big deal. It¡¯s what he did ¡ª it was his job. He always got people where they needed to go. He never failed to. I have to take her somewhere. And I need to be somewhere for a while too, damn it. Too much potential heat, too little known about what trouble I¡¯m in. Guess I¡¯ll have my ¡®vacation¡¯ after all. The list of people he could both trust and was willing to dump it on was short. So many of his old friends were current military, who¡¯d technically be obligated to report something so strange to the Mems. Jack¡¯s dad was Memoria-knew-where after hitting the bottle again and falling in with a bad crowd, and his mom was a permanent ¡®hell no¡¯ for him. Her cult-like ¡®community¡¯ would burn the girl at the stake for all he knew. There was only one decent option. Sighing, Jack stared into the rearview and declared, ¡°I guess we¡¯re going to go to my uncle¡¯s farm. Wake up now to protest or forever hold your peace.¡± She did not. His uncle Terrance was something of an ¡®eccentric.¡¯ Jack had worked at the farm for a few years during ¡®family troubles,¡¯ before he went into military school out of his own desires at fourteen. Something the state did right was not force him to be with his mother. Her community being what it was, he¡¯d have never gone into the service otherwise. Terrance and the platform, Eden, were also highly independent, even from the Farmers Alliance. Strange as the situation was, Terrance would keep the lid on it. Hopefully, he could minimize contact with other workers. Jack sent his credentials to the Industrial Fellowship¡¯s communications systems so he could utilize them. It was effectively just a login for him for basic access, as he¡¯d done it before through registration as a transporter. He sent a query for a line extension to his uncle¡¯s business number, adding a code he had access to for emergency use. Approval was nearly instantaneous and after a few moments, there was the click of a radio receiver. His uncle¡¯s scraggly voice came through. ¡°Jack? What¡¯s the emergency ¡ª is it your father?¡± ¡°What? No. Well, who knows how he is, but this is something else. I need a favor ¡ª a big one, preferably with minimal questions.¡± ¡°Ah, freshly shat hell, Jack, what did you do?¡± After a silent pause, he continued, ¡°No questions. Huh. Tell me what you need then, son. You¡¯re family and a vet, and you never asked me for nothin¡¯ ¡®cept bennies you paid back. So.¡± ¡°Actually, I can even pay you. Room and board for two for a while. And do you know a good, discreet doctor? Independently discreet, if you take my meaning.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about paying me, but you can pay for the doctor. One with a specialty in discreet, too. Not sure about his availability out here today. We¡¯ll see. Just what kind of trouble are you bringing, son?¡± ¡°Maybe some. I don¡¯t know, Uncle Terrance. Hopefully none, but I¡¯m just trying to help the next person out, you know?¡± There was a sigh. ¡°I guess I do know. Sounds like just the sort of trouble you¡¯d get into. Missed your damn calling or something.¡± ¡°To do what?¡± ¡°Hell if I know. A paramedic. Counselor, maybe. Helping people.¡± ¡°Right. Maybe.¡± ¡°Anyway, when can I expect ya?¡± ¡°As soon as possible.¡± ¡°Alright, make that at least half an hour. I¡¯ll authorize you for non-logged entry. You won¡¯t get a ping or a message entering the airspace of Platform Eden, mind ya.¡± Now that¡¯s authority. Terrance was a senior Councilor of the Citizen¡¯s Council of Eden as of a few years back. ¡°Got it. Thanks, Uncle. See you soon.¡± With that, Jack disconnected the call. He winced as he imagined his uncle¡¯s response to seeing him cart the octogirl into his manor. He was going to get yelled at as if he had brought in a random wild animal. Jack wanted to get word to his boss in depth, but that wasn¡¯t really in the cards, as he¡¯d have to enter Memoria-controlled space to do it, or arrange for a screened and recorded message through an independent state. The best bet was to use his uncle¡¯s connections for that and bypass the risk. ¡°Welp, I¡¯m starving. How about you?¡± Jack exclaimed as he turned around in the seat to look over at his ¡®client.¡¯ She was still but breathing heavily and had her back turned to him. Her tail peeking from under the white shirt twitched slightly. ¡°Unfortunately, there isn¡¯t much I can do about that for either of us. Water?¡± Despite the lack of response, Jack got out of the vehicle and brought a steel water bottle over to the passenger side back door, to open it and more easily access the unconscious girl¡¯s head. He awkwardly tried to present a craned water bottle to her lips. Her head tentacles were interested, dipping themselves into it and scooping some of it down onto her a few times. Her head twitched a bit at this, and she tried to curl her face further into the seating. The tentacles then pushed the water bottle away continuously. Jack frowned in puzzlement as he had to relent. ¡°You¡¯re going to be alright, you know,¡± he encouraged her softly. ¡°If you need a doc, we¡¯ll get one. Or as soon as you wake up, we¡¯ll figure out where you belong and get you there.¡± If anywhere¡­ Jack went to the back of the car, dropped the tailgate, and pulled out some tools to pry open the frame of his cell phone to remove the battery, eliminating the potential for signal tracking. In turn, he went to the front, popped Alice¡¯s hood, then disconnected and switched off the transponder system, cutting off Alice from her various automatic communication lines. ¡°Alice,¡± he called out as he came around to the door. ¡°You can still receive signals but can¡¯t send them or return them, correct?¡± ¡°That is correct, Jack,¡± Alice replied. ¡°Is there any danger of tracking from this?¡± ¡°It is hypothetically possible, but more difficult. Are you in danger, Jack? Should we contact the authorities?¡± ¡°No, Alice. Obviously, we¡¯re not contacting anyone. Okay¡­ don¡¯t even receive and process signals unless they¡¯re from Eden. Ignore them.¡± ¡°Acknowledged, Jack. Please be careful.¡± ¡°Always.¡± His last task before heading out was something he wasn¡¯t even sure how to handle. He went to the back again and pulled Tanner¡¯s backpack to the edge of the tailgate. Frowning, he lifted it. Easily. Why the hell is this so light? It¡¯s a gearbox. What, is it made of fraggin'' titanium? He opened up the backpack and pulled the whole thing out, squinting at it suspiciously. Something was off about it. ¡°Aluminum? It¡¯s still too light.¡± Before he investigated further, he checked the rest of the bag, suddenly feeling a hope rise that he¡¯d find food. Another pack of smokes. A simple socket wrench set. Matches. A pen and an empty notepad. A spoon. ¡°How do you not have snacks in here, Tanner?!¡± Jack lamented in disbelief as he slapped the backpack down. ¡°You punkass piece of shit!¡± His stomach growled its agreement. Muttering balefully, Jack retrieved his electric socket wrench kit and set about unbolting and taking off the topmost case cover. Inside were unoiled gears. When he turned them, they moved without any resistance, and the third part of the gearworks did not move, either. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was normal, but it was like he couldn¡¯t ¡®feel¡¯ the gears inside the casing turning at all. He couldn¡¯t see them, but it was a subtle instinct. What the hell is with this thing? Is the gearbox a lie? Is it cake? Mindful of time but burning with curiosity, he hurriedly unbolted the rest of the casing and pried it open with a flathead screwdriver and the power of grunt-fueled effort. It was a pain and a half, but finally, he managed to pull the metal frame around the gearworks off. But there were no gears or shafts below the top-most part of the frame, and those gears went with it ¡ª they were attached. The frame was also thicker than it should¡¯ve been, made of some sort of gray-brown composite material. Inside the hollow and bolted to the bottom of the frame where the gears should¡¯ve been was a small copper rectangle with no apparent openings. The top part had signs of rough welding that had not been polished down. In the middle, yellow tape had been haphazardly wrapped around, with bold, black, printed text declaring, ¡®Danger!¡¯ repeatedly. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned to the moon, the gearbox is a lie!¡± Jack exclaimed. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a sleeve and stared at the copper rectangle. ¡°Danger? Pfft! What is this, Pandora¡¯s Box?¡± He laughed, but it rang hollow in his ears. Tanner had transported something important, after all ¡ª important enough to hide. Jack glanced over at the thick composite lining of the casing. Pressed his fingers on it. A slight give. A copper box and some kind of additional radio shielding? Or even more sophisticated. Something to block Mem¡¯s senses? Her powers? He wasn¡¯t sure what that would be, but he¡¯d heard of crackpots claiming to make such materials to line walls with and so on. Jack found it kind of dumb and useless, as Memoria surely had no time for people¡¯s day-to-day nonsense. Serious crimes were another story, though. Citizens getting hurt, robbed, abused ¡ª the Mems weren¡¯t big on that sort of thing. People that were doing nefarious shit would have great use for such a material. In any case, he¡¯d spent enough time with it, and the box wasn¡¯t going to be easily opened without a torch or otherwise cutting into it. If he dared in the first place. Jack put the case back on, tightened a few bolts, and then stowed it back in the backpack. Time to go. When he was finally sitting back down in the driver¡¯s seat and buckling up, the octogirl was laying flat and breathing heavily through her mouth, her eyelids fluttering. ¡°Stay with me,¡± Jack urged. ¡°We¡¯ll get you a doctor. Help. I promise.¡± Uncertainty about so many things plaguing him, Jack took off into the air with Alice once more. ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? The sprawling platform of towers, pipes, and production vessels that was Industrial Bend, more commonly called ¡®The Bends,¡¯ was great cover for Jack¡¯s vessel. So were the massive transport barges hauling materials through the air to New Babylon or other platforms. He hid in the wake of one almost all the way to the platform of Eden. It wasn¡¯t as far out as the Bends and was also a bit below the standard plane of most platforms, which were most commonly aligned with New Babylon. Eden was all wilderness and farms, with a large central park and lake reservoir. His uncle¡¯s farm was on an outer wedge, near thickly-clustered but orderly rows of pecan trees with some wilder forest at the very edge. Jack¡¯s deceased grandfather had purchased two farms, and the inheritor, Terrance, had purchased another, making his estate pretty extensive. He was widowed, but two sons under thirty helped him manage it, basically apportioned between them. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Jack brought Alice down in the front yard of a large, two-story manor house. His uncle and some older farmer, probably a foreman, waited by the door, both in stereotypical jeans, long-sleeved button-ups rolled back past the elbow, and cowboy hats. They¡¯d clearly been working but had cleaned up a bit. At their immediate approach, Jack hurried up and rushed out to greet them before they made it to the car. ¡°Heeeey! Uncle! Great to see you. Really.¡± Grinning, he put his hand out for a shake. Terrance returned the shake while wearing a polite grin. ¡°Likewise. Just wish you¡¯d come under nicer circumstances.¡± He was a tall, wiry man with a high-cheekboned, severe face suitable for some ancient statesman. He had a large, bushy beard of full gray. ¡°How¡¯s the city life treating ya?¡± ¡°Oh, good. Good.¡± ¡°Good. You look good, actually. Healthy. Got a bit of a baker¡¯s gut growing, though. Haven¡¯t started drinking like your daddy, have ya?¡± Jack was shaking the other gentleman¡¯s hand ¡ª ¡®Mick,¡¯ he said ¡ª and murmuring, ¡°Jack,¡± in response when he registered what his uncle was saying. ¡°Hmm? Oh! No.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Hell no, Uncle. That gene skipped me.¡± Baker¡¯s gut? No way. He¡¯s getting senile. It¡¯s just body shape. I have a medium build. His uncle nodded, and his eyes shifted to peer over at the car. ¡°Where¡¯s this other person, anyway? Hiding ¡®em in your pocket?¡± ¡°Back seat. And, ah, as to that¡­¡± He looked between his uncle and Mick. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone about this. She¡¯s been unconscious, and I don¡¯t know her story. I just know she was running away afraid, and I helped her. As soon as I know where she belongs, I¡¯ll take her.¡± The two men exchanged glances, and his uncle frowned, but Jack turned on his heels right then and rushed to the car to get her, with his uncle calling, ¡°Jack? What are you- Jack!¡± Ignoring the protests, Jack got to the car door, opened it, and carefully pulled the octogirl into his arms once more. Other than her camouflage pattern fading, she did not react much, and he had the distinct sense she¡¯d gotten weaker since he¡¯d originally found her. But she didn¡¯t buck around or flop herself, at least. Her head tentacles were languid and moved only vaguely and sluggishly. Jack carried her toward the door to the manor as his uncle and Mick stared. They were utterly disbelieving and stunned by what they saw, eyes and mouths open wide. ¡°Mick, buddy,¡± Jack said, ¡°you wanna get the door for me?¡± Mick blinked and closed his mouth, slowly saying, ¡°Suure,¡± as he glanced uncertainly at Terrance and back to the octogirl, before inching toward the door, eyes never really leaving the oddity before him. Terrance glanced at Mick and at the octogirl, too, unresponsive for a few moments. But his brows drew down more and more until finally he exclaimed, ¡°Wait- no! No, no, no, no! Wait up. Jack. Jack, just what the hell did you bring to my farm?!¡± Jack sighed as he paused in his approach. ¡°I told you: someone in trouble. She¡¯s having difficulty, might even be in a coma, and I dunno if I can bring her to the city yet. I need her to wake up. That¡¯s basically it.¡± ¡°Oh ho-ho-ho,¡± his uncle coughed in brief hysterics, pointing his finger at Jack, ¡°that¡¯s it, is it? That¡¯s it? How about the fact that she¡¯s a skydamned squid person! Is she- is she an¡­ alien, Jack?¡± His face was one of wonder and horror. Jack scoffed in audible incredulity. ¡°Tch, don¡¯t be ridiculous! Does she look like some terrifying, mind-bending creature?!¡± In fact, a head tentacle had wandered into the side of her mouth and she was sucking on it. ¡°See? Too adorable. Trust me, I know what they-¡± He cut himself off with a huff. Can¡¯t talk about that, Jack. ¡°Just trust me. Please. She¡¯s modded, or some biological adaptation experiment, or a Non with a crazy story to tell.¡± Terrance wiped a hand over his face, then took a breath and adjusted his hat. ¡°Right. Right, of course. Of course, son. I didn¡¯t think- I just thought- nevermind. We¡¯ll hear it from her. Look at her ¡ª she¡¯s harmless! A harmless human. Ha. Alright.¡± He cleared his throat and gestured at Mick. ¡°Let¡¯s get the squidgirl inside. A bed? Yeah. Yes. First-floor bedroom.¡± As Mick opened two heavy duty doors and swung them open, Jack carried his blue client inside. She was too cold for his liking, but hopefully, that was normal. ¡°I think she¡¯s more of an octogirl. The tentacles. Camouflage. Her eyes.¡± Immediately to the right inside the door was something that stuck out like a sore thumb in the manor ¡ª a small, walk-in steel vault, locked. Jack was familiar with it: an armory. His uncle had been a teen when his dad¡¯s farm was robbed and his mother was killed. They did not play around about self-defense. Every farmhand that worked for him had to prove they could shoot, and most had a rifle or shotgun handy. Terrance raised an eyebrow at Jack. ¡°Half octopus is she? Well, you¡¯d know better. You ate up those nature shows like nobody¡¯s business. Your momma said you¡¯d be a biologist egghead. Anyhow, it¡¯s this way, Jack.¡± In his arms, the octogirl¡¯s eyelids fluttered a bit, and the tentacle fell from her mouth. Biologist? I don¡¯t even remember thinking that. Maybe a biological-based Champion. Like Stitcher. Stitcher was a legendary, very old Non like Chromey, but she was still alive and doing miraculous work via incredibly finely detailed organic manipulation. She¡¯d been a healer and surgeon, and for decades, she had moved into genetics and body modification. She was the latter¡¯s pioneer, purportedly even being the one to convince Memoria to allow it in the first place. How powers worked was technically classified, but he¡¯d heard in the service that she was a ¡®Controller,¡¯ a versatility-focused ¡®role¡¯ that sacrificed personal toughness and raw power. He¡¯d heard there were many of these roles, but only knew of a few, such as Guardians, which were tanks. Blasters, who were self-explanatory. Why they were so important in the System of Memoria wasn¡¯t clear. They were simply foundational, and that was that. That fanboys like he had been were blocked from knowing more was heartbreaking, but such was life for the mundane. Fat chance of any classified information being allowed to exist in the public eye within Memoria¡¯s control, and even the independent states didn¡¯t push that envelope, perhaps half out of disinterest. Nons could only get their powers from Memoria. I could be carrying Stitcher¡¯s handiwork in my arms right now. It might be within her capabilities. If anyone¡¯s. Jack was led into a sizable, well-furnished room with a king-sized bed, with sheets and pillows in the pattern of fluffy clouds in the sky. He set her down and put the covers over her. She twisted on her side almost immediately, mouth opening to breathe heavily. She looked sickly. ¡°She seems semi-conscious, huh?¡± Terrance asked. He took off his hat and leaned down to study her from up close. He brought his hands very close to her face and then snapped his fingers loudly. She may have twitched slightly. Her tentacles flared around to cover her face. ¡°I guess. Her tentacles sure are. More importantly, she seems to be having breathing problems.¡± His uncle leaned back up, his face disturbed in the extreme. ¡°Mm. Yup.¡± He turned to Mick, who was standing near the door. ¡°Get the oxygen tank with the breather, would ya? My closet upstairs, on the left.¡± Mick nodded and exited the room. Terrance frowned down at the girl. ¡°Who¡¯s after her, Jack?¡± Jack sighed and shrugged. ¡°I saw her trying to escape some tough-guy assholes on Overflow Three, right over the green-striped silos and by the fire station.¡± ¡°Farmer¡¯s Alliance.¡± He had a sour look on his face. ¡°Figures.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t say it was them just because they¡¯re on Overflow Three, Uncle. The guy I was transporting over there was a Southtower man through and through. They zapped a neighbor¡¯s security with stunners.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Terrance squinted his eyes thoughtfully and pulled out a cell phone to begin typing with two hands. ¡°Probably have some families with connections between them. Maybe the Mulks or Wuhamas. The Mulks got one rope in everything, near enough. Everything skybound, anyway.¡± ¡°Skybound? What isn¡¯t?¡± ¡°The earth, son. Obviously. A lot of them groundpounders are Mulky boys. Big on self-sufficiency, for obvious reasons. And militant. Yeah, they got the rest of their net down there, if you catch my overall meaning.¡± ¡°Sure. Well, shit, maybe it fits the bill, eh? If you can look into it¡­¡± His uncle nodded, muttering to himself as he typed. Finally, he said, ¡°Your doctor isn¡¯t working today. Holiday. He¡¯s having a good ole time in the city with family.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got to be shitting me! Frag Chromey Day and frag me! Now what?¡± Scratching his beard and stowing the phone, his uncle shrugged. ¡°We see how the oxygen does. We do what we can. Hold tight. Doc says he can be here first thing in the morning. If she wasn¡¯t, uh¡­ this¡­ we could take her to the little clinic on the lake, but¡­¡± ¡°No. Or, well ¡ª we¡¯ll see. Hopefully, this helps. I¡¯ll be ready if necessary.¡± His uncle nodded slowly, arms crossed for a silent waiting period. Then he finally gave Jack a thin smile and clapped him on the back. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out, son! Some aspirin for the headache, one way or another.¡± ¡°Come on, man. This is someone¡¯s life in our hands, not a headache.¡± ¡°Ah, see? You should¡¯ve been a paramedic! Don¡¯t take me so literally. Didn¡¯t mean nothin¡¯ by it. So. The doctor it is. A hundred and fifty bennies, by the way.¡± Jack winced. The premium of discretion. ¡°I¡¯ve got it covered. And sorry. I¡¯m a bit touchy, what with this whole thing, and I even skipped break-¡± ¡°Got the oxygen!¡± Mick exclaimed as he came in finally, moving as quick as he could while rolling a big tank on wheels. He brought it over to the side of the bed. Terrance got it ready and in position, then began moving the transparent mask attached to the tank over to the girl¡¯s face. Immediately, the head tentacles resisted the maneuver, pushing back in rejection of this strange, new object. ¡°C-come on, I¡¯m trying to help here!¡± He also attempted to get the elastic band up and over the girl¡¯s head, to no avail, as the tentacles divided their fierce stand of defiance between these dual efforts. And then there was a brief ¡®Zzzt!¡¯ sound, and his uncle jumped backward quickly, almost falling, as Jack rushed to steady him with a hand. His hat fell off. Terrance looked quite horrified by the ordeal ¡ª as well as shocked. ¡°She shocked me! Sh-she can do that?!¡± ¡°Apparently.¡± Jack glanced at the tentacles, which were undulating through the air in agitation and threat, perhaps with the energy of ¡®You want some more, bitch?!¡¯ Jack swallowed and cleared his throat. ¡°I guess let me try.¡± ¡°Are you crazy? You¡¯ll get zapped, too!¡± Jack ignored this and approached, leaning down a bit. ¡°Hey, um¡­ tentacles? Hi.¡± They seemed to undulate more slowly. ¡°Hey, we really are trying to help. More air, more oxygen. Think you can maybe cut us some slack, here?¡± The tentacles seemed to be stretching toward him at this point, so he slowly and hesitantly offered his hand. ¡°Good tentacles, niiice tentacles¡­¡± They took and wrapped around his hand completely. They remember me. And no shocking! That¡¯s just super. Jack took the oxygen mask from his uncle with his other hand and brought it around as he sat on the edge of the bed. ¡°I need to put this on your person, tentacles.¡± He more or less offered the mask to them, at which point they slowly began touching and inspecting it, then grabbed it themselves. He had to flip it around the right way and guide it to the octogirl¡¯s face while gently tugging and pulling away a few obstructing members. Finally, he got it reasonably in position. Getting the elastic band fully over her head was another complication, but they seemed to be fine with allowing him to slip it in the right spot between some roots, adjusting themselves dexterously. They trust me. Heh. Pretty rad. ¡°Hey, Mick ¡ª Jack made himself some friends, huh?¡± A mocking tone from his uncle. Mick snickered and replied, ¡°I reckon he did. Touchy-feely friends, too.¡± Jack glared at them both. ¡°Immature much, Grown-Ass Men?¡± They just shrugged it off with amused grins in response. ¡°Turn up the oxygen a bit, wiseguy.¡± His uncle did so, and Jack adjusted the mask. They watched quietly and waited to see how she¡¯d react. Her breathing quickly improved, becoming less labored and more even, though she was still breathing deeply. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. His uncle grabbed him by the shoulder and began shaking and patting it over and over, wearing a big grin. ¡°Eh?! See there, my boy?! Eh? She¡¯ll be fine!¡± Jack was shaken and shaken until he burst out a laugh. ¡°Alright, alright, enough, enough!¡± Wearing a lop-sided grin, he shook his head. ¡°I hope you¡¯re right.¡± Most of the tentacles were quite content to let go of Jack¡¯s hand and hold onto the mask, fully accepting that they had found something that was helping their person. One stayed in his hand, though, laying there and not gripping. Dry. They¡¯re all dry instead of moist like before. Is she dehydrating, too? There was some garbled radio chatter that cropped up from Mick¡¯s radio, and he stepped outside the room to follow up. After a few moments, he came back in. ¡°Terrance, Lucas says his tractor broke down again. Can¡¯t get it running.¡± Terrance slumped dramatically with a huff and frustration so intense he seemed pained. ¡°That no-good, brainless fraghead is the broke one! Shit!¡± He bent down to rip his hat up off the floor and dust it off, shaking his head with a dark grimace. ¡°Mick, you gotta find me a few more hands. With some mechanical aptitude! That sackless wonder is off my damn farm come the night season, you hear?¡± ¡°Loud and clear, boss. You want me to take care of the tractor?¡± Sighing, Terrance glanced at the girl. ¡°You okay, here, Jack? Hold down the fort for a minute? I need to see what this idiot did to my machine with my own eyes, and I¡¯ll probably need Mick¡¯s help with fixin¡¯ it. Or at least someone that can tell a damn wrench from a ratchet.¡± ¡°Same thing, aren¡¯t they?¡± The other men laughed as if he¡¯d told a good joke. Jack smiled as if he had. ¡°We¡¯re probably fine. I can contact you easily?¡± ¡°Multiple radios around. One always on until bedtime in the kitchen and living room. You can keep one on ya. And there¡¯s no one else here right now. Alright? Alright. Let¡¯s go deal with this chicken shit, Mick. Sunlight ain¡¯t forever.¡± They filed out, and Jack frowned as he watched them go. His uncle had always been a pain in the ass. Difficult to please and temperamental. His sons were scarred souls for it but good farmers as far as he knew. They probably had better workers. Jack got up to head to the kitchen, fetching the radio to stick it on a belt loop and getting a pitcher of water as well as a cup. He made sure it was plastic in case the tentacles flung it or something. He eyed the refrigerator longingly. You and me got a date soon, beautiful. When he got back into the room, the octogirl was in the same sideways position. He poured some water into the cup and sat down as before, offering the cup to the head tentacles. They were more interested in it than before. They dipped and scooped it out or flicked it over her body, as her eyes moved around prodigiously under her eyelids. Jack found himself holding his breath, waiting for her eyes to open. But they didn¡¯t, and the tentacles abruptly lost interest in the water. He couldn¡¯t be certain, but they seemed unsatisfied, with little snaps and curling he assessed as annoyance. He took a deep breath. ¡°Please. I really need you to wake up.¡± Nothing. ¡°Come on!¡± He took her hand and shook it. There was one twitch. ¡°Wake up!¡± He shook her arm. ¡°Please! It¡¯s important.¡± Nothing more. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Jack shot up onto his feet and stepped up closer. He held the cup of water over her head. ¡°Wake up, or I¡¯ll pour this on your head!¡± The tentacles got agitated, flicking around, some extending toward him. Her body twitched a bit more. Jack lowered the cup slightly and tilted it. ¡°Ohhh nooo¡­ here it coooomes¡­ better stop me¡­¡± The head tentacles were whipping and trying to reach up toward the cup and his hand with all their stretchy might. If they could speak, Jack was sure it would be, ¡°Nooooo!¡± ¡°Laaast chance¡­¡± She was having a subconscious response, her body twitching and her tail flicking. Jack ruthlessly dumped the water on the top of her head, betraying his friends the tentacles terribly as the primary target, but in his mind quite justified. The octogirl immediately started awake with a gasp, flipping over onto her back with a whip-like motion and then half sitting up, as her head flicked around in fear and disorientation. ¡°It¡¯s alright, it¡¯s alright!¡± Jack exclaimed, holding a hand out flat to calm her. She woozily flopped back down, her eyes almost rolling back but appearing to fight it off to stay awake. She pulled the mask down in confusion. Meanwhile, her tentacles were all extended like points at Jack, perhaps in accusation. The girl finally followed their direction to look over, and her eyes locked with Jack¡¯s. They widened, and her rectangular pupils went bigger and thicker on a dime. Despite this, it was like she was forcing them open from wanting to close, and her head was swaying almost drunkenly. ¡°Hi,¡± Jack managed with something he hoped was a smile. ¡°I¡¯m-¡± ¡°Jack,¡± she interrupted, nodding vigorously. ¡°Jack Laker, Skyman.¡± Chapter 3: An Octogirls Needs Chapter 3: An Octogirl''s Needs Jack, perhaps a bit dulled from his ordeals, was in mystified wonderment at her saying his name. ¡°H-how do you know my¡­?¡± Her pupils turned into a wavy ¡®W¡¯ briefly before going back to a bar. ¡°Jack name. Name¡­d.¡± ¡°What? I- oh! Oh, right. I told you.¡± He laughed briefly, a bit hysterically. She nodded, and her skin rippled like a horizontal wave. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°What is your name?¡± He gestured between them both with his hand. ¡°Jack, and¡­?¡± ¡°Neexolei Ba Ley Bravama Ona Kotos,¡± she spooled out rapidly. Then her pupils turned into squiggly lines for a split second, and she said, ¡°Neex.¡± Jack was grinning and repeating the full name in his head multiple times to memorize it when Neex sagged and drew in a deep, wheezing breath. He quickly reached over and moved her oxygen mask back over her face. ¡°You need this! Oxygen. Please.¡± She slunk slightly from his hand down into the bed, her eyes widening up at him, but a couple of her head tentacles touched his hand, and another two pressed down on the mask. A sucker on a tentacle pinched him once, and he winced, suppressing the urge to ¡®Ow!¡¯ Payback, isn¡¯t it? Ha. I deserve that. Neex took this all in, eyes spinning around, each moving independently. She took a deep breath and then nodded in understanding to Jack. ¡°Ox-i-gen. Odigene.¡± Then her eyes shifted away, her eyelids quickly drooping. She muttered something unintelligible. ¡°Hey!¡± Jack called, and she started, eyes going wide again. Need to focus on important shit, here. ¡°You need help! Tell me how to help, tell me who to call, what to do, where to take you, something!¡± Her eyes flashed over his face in confusion from the barrage of words. ¡°Help?¡± Her eyes focused on the cup in his hand. A tentacle curled around and went into her open mouth. Jack thought he heard a little squirt; she swallowed and then made a face. ¡°Give¡­d¡­ water. Salt?¡± ¡°You need salt? Uh, yeah! Yeah, I can do that right now!¡± He began rushing out immediately. ¡°Jack!¡± He stopped and turned back. ¡°Yeah? Something else?¡± ¡°Salt¡­¡± She made a ¡®mixing¡¯ motion with her hand. ¡°Water. Saltwater? Ocean. Neex.¡± Her raised head swayed and she dropped it back down onto the bed. ¡°Saltwater, sure! Ocean? That¡¯s a long way away. Restricted, too. Not sure it¡¯s possible without-¡± Jack noticed her eyes were closed. ¡°Nevermind! I¡¯m getting it!¡± He ran out the door to the kitchen, soon digging in the pantry for salt. There was half of a whole five-pound bag, so he took it out, grabbed a spoon, and rushed with it all back to the guest room. ¡°I got it right here!¡± he called as he entered. ¡°Just let me¡­¡± She was not responsive. ¡°Neex? Neex!¡± Jack rushed over but only to see that she was completely out of it again. Still breathing. Her head tentacles were splayed out on the bed. ¡°Shit!¡± He took one step over to the counter where the pitcher lay, then stopped short. It hit him as he looked down at the salt. ¡®Ocean. Neex.¡¯ She wants to be in the saltwater, doesn¡¯t she? Like an octopus. ¡°Alright, alright¡­ hold on, Neex. I got this. There¡¯s running water. A bathtub!¡± He took a nearby door into the bathroom and started running water in the tub. He was unsure about the temperature for her, so he stuck with lukewarm. He hefted the bag of salt and then hesitated. ¡°Wait, shit, how much salt, anyway?¡± He wracked his brain furiously for the salinity of seawater factoid he¡¯d probably learned in school, which he¡¯d surely memorized with his prodigious and exceptional brain¡­ Nothing. His brain failed him. ¡°Shit! Stupid brain!¡± He rushed into the living room looking for a convenient tablet or computer, but didn¡¯t see anything, so he sprinted outside to his car. Slightly out of breath, Jack put his hands on the silver frame of his vehicle and called, ¡°Alice! What is the salinity of seawater? Ocean. Per gallon, I guess. Approximate.¡± Alice answered immediately. ¡°Seawater would be roughly 150 grams of salt per gallon, or two and a quarter ounces.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± He took two steps and stopped. ¡°Er, about how many gallons is a bathtub?¡± ¡°Bathtubs vary in capacity. Between forty and seventy gallons. The majority of full-sized, tall lip bathtubs of New Babylon manufacture are sixty gallons.¡± ¡°Thanks, Alice!¡± He began running back for the entrance. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Jack,¡± Alice replied cheerily at his back. Jack grabbed a measuring cup from the kitchen before rushing back into the bathroom. He was going to fill the tub maybe ? to the top, so he measured the salt to be for about forty gallons and dumped it in, mixing it thoroughly with his hands. Finally, he shut it off and retrieved Neex from the bed, awkwardly pulling along the oxygen tank as he went. With the tank pushed next to the bathtub, he gently began lowering the octogirl into the water, straining not to lose his grip and drop her into it too suddenly. When her feet and legs were submerged, she shivered from head to toe, and her head tentacles flicked around in excitement. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t buck or the like, and he was able to more or less slide her into the water, kneeling as he held her back to keep her from going under. The tentacles got very active at this point. Firstly, they pulled off the oxygen mask and tossed it over the lip of the tub, to which Jack sputtered in protest. Some dipped into the water, and some grabbed his hand and tugged at it as if trying to pry it away. Reluctantly, he began to let go, but this was either not fast enough for the tentacles or they still wanted to get him back, because two of them in synchronicity pointed multiple suckers at him and squirted him in the face, thankfully not in his eyes. ¡°Graah!¡± He held his hands up to shield himself and spat salty water out of his mouth. ¡°Ptuah! That stings my nostrils, you know! Thank the Southern Lights it didn¡¯t get in my eyes¡­¡± When he was no longer being sprayed, he peeked over his hand. Neex had fully submerged into the water, head tentacles happily swaying underneath. Her oversized shirt was like a cloud around her, bubbles of air continuously escaping from it. Jack stood. Nervous as he was to see an unconscious person submerged in water, there was anything but distress on her face. It seemed more at peace than ever, and not in a ¡®dead¡¯ way. She was breathing the water into her mouth. His lips twitched into a smile. What she was made for. One way or another. There seemed to be water flow coming out from under her shirt by her legs, indicating her gills were openings somewhere in her torso. She breathes air well enough. This is an insanely high altitude, though. If she¡¯s adapted to the surface and the ocean, this air might be a struggle. It had been the opposite for Jack when he was going to lower altitudes for the frontier bases. He¡¯d felt like he¡¯d grown a third lung breathing that thick, rich air. Memoria had crafted New Babylonians for the heights, though, just as she modified the life that sustained them. All adapted to make them the masters of the air. Skymen, eh? Jack eyed the peaceful face of Neex under the water. This one is another story entirely. He picked up the oxygen mask from the floor to hang it on the machine, then briefly went back into the bedroom to find a chair. He paused to drink a glass of water, then took a chair into the bathroom to sit close to the tub and keep an eye on his client. She breathed slowly and peacefully. Her tentacles, in contrast, were working actively, making splashes, swirling the water, and creating bubbles with squirts of air. At first, Jack thought they were playing happily. Making bubbles? Oxygen. They¡¯re keeping the water oxygenated¡­ Time passed in relative stillness and silence. The radio spat out chatter here and there. His uncle barked on it asking someone to check for a part. Jack couldn¡¯t stop thinking about what Neex¡¯s origins were. He was caught between his distinct feelings that she was a modded human and then the disturbing, unthinkable suspicions that he could be wrong. His uncle had mentioned the word ¡®alien,¡¯ and Jack immediately assumed he meant the Earth¡¯s extradimensional invaders. The conquerors of other lands. Knowing his uncle, though, Jack was pretty sure he¡¯d meant someone from ¡®space¡¯ rather than that. It was far and away the silliest explanation. No one was from space. Occam¡¯s Razor. They had enough weird shit at home. Invaders from a different vector. What nagged him, though, was that he¡¯d heard vaguely about there being oceanic ¡®entities¡¯ during his military service. Details were classified, but they had to be incredibly rare on land. Public footage of superpowered fights was mostly old, propaganda-laced stuff from the ¡®frontier expansion¡¯ era in Antarctica. Newer, rarer stuff mimicked it. He didn¡¯t recall any aquatic beings. On the other hand, Jack knew firsthand that they hid certain enemies entirely from the public. As ever when he thought about them, the incident that changed his life three years ago came crashing back to the fore. He went back yet again, the scene carved in his brain as unchangeable as its natural grooves. The trauma was a part of him. A pillar. It was at Fort Circe, a military base in the distant wet bulk of the south known as Wilkesland. It was usually rainy and windy, and when it wasn¡¯t, it got hot, even sweltering. Dangerous storms were commonplace, and everything was always on high ground to protect against flooding. Fort Circe was on a mountain of the same name and was the furthest south Jack¡¯s basic security clearance allowed. That made Fort Circe a distribution center, with other pilots being permanently stationed in the region to hop around the borderland bases. With job ¡®openings¡¯ being occasional, Jack had considered it a strong possibility for his next role. With the clearance increase, he¡¯d take such a role in a heartbeat. It was certain he¡¯d get briefed more on the mysterious ¡®Enemy of the South¡¯ that ¡ª as an open secret ¡ª almost certainly occupied what was once Australia across the sea. Plus, Emma was stationed there ¡ª a very cute and very single administrator he¡¯d talked to multiple times¡­ He was just walking away from another of those conversations had in-between dealing with the inventory paperwork. Down a hallway he went to get back to his vehicle. He¡¯d get his things and rest in the cozy guest quarters for the allotted time before heading back out. Jack remembered smiling and thinking that Emma definitely liked him. Her coworker had been smirking at them with a certain kind of ¡®look.¡¯ A tell that gave him a warm feeling. Could he fast-forward a transfer? Pull strings? A little permanence would be nice. Sirens went off just as he was pushing open the door to the outside. He had one moment to wonder if it was a drill before an explosion went off, slamming the door into him, smashing his phone, and almost breaking his arm. Instead, he was knocked on his ass and the door could be seen to bend inward, while the walls to either side cracked. His arm was numb. He saw the lights flicker and go out, and then emergency lighting blipped on, flashing red. More explosions and gunfire. Screams, their directions difficult to place. Jack shot up onto his feet and pulled out his sidearm, his heart pounding, blood felt pumping through his arm as he worked his hand to make sure it worked. His brain defaulted to his training. Protocol dictated that a pilot either get to a bunker or receive orders from the base command. He immediately went running down the hall back to Admin, thinking of Emma and her coworkers. They¡¯d know the best route, anyway. The door to the office was thrown off, the wall was busted through, and the office itself was mostly collapsed like a bomb had gone off inside it. The dust had not fully settled. Vaguely, like the outer haze of a nightmare, Jack remembered seeing blood and body parts. But it was secondary ¡ª as horrifying as that was. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The open night sky was visible instead of a ceiling. What had come through it was a vehicle like a giant, energy-shrouded bullet. Everything was blown out and crushed in a visible radius around it ¡ª except for the inhumanly tall and lithe figure crawling out of a hinged opening. The creature was insectoid, covered in a pale pinkish exoskeleton, with four arms, digitigrade legs, and a long, powerful, segmented tail. Its head was oversized, the cranium sloping up and backward into a spikey crown like a triceratops. The lower face was almost human in shape, but it had three yellow eyes, one larger in the center. A transparent encasement was over these, like strapless goggles. It was holding a pistol-like weapon in one of its hands, a squat contraption that housed an exposed, exotic plasma-like energy, only it was crackling and sputtering in and out. Jack was not only shocked and stunned by what he saw. There was a distortion that came from the creature, like the visible shimmering of heat, only there was no heat. The touch of that distortion gripped him, and he felt a brand new depth of terror. It sought to paralyze him; it went for his heart to stop it. The creature caught sight of him and opened a mouth that extended too far to show rows of sharp teeth. It might¡¯ve been grinning. It whipped around the weapon to point it at him and activate it¡­ Nothing happened. It fizzled. Screaming like serrated nails on a chalkboard, the creature tossed the pistol aside and stalked toward him. Jack remembered his internal struggle well, right then. Something foreign was ensnaring him, and he had to push it back, had to resist. From his desire to live, from his rage at the senseless death and destruction dealt, he found just enough mettle to. With a wordless cry, Jack brought his handgun to bear and started firing into the thing¡¯s face. .44 magnum hard metal slugs ¡ª armor-piercing rounds ¡ª cut across the space, standard issue because of the enemies that humans would have to use them on. Not great from a sidearm, even then. The first shot ricocheted off a powerful exoskeleton, but the second was luckier and hit the central eye, dealing a nasty spider-webbing crack to the protection over it. The creature howled and paused against the oncoming fire, ducking and putting a hand up to cover its face. Jack kept unloading as he backpedaled, yelling like an idiot. The creature cleared the doorway and began to pick up speed into a charge. Things weren¡¯t looking good. Running from that thing would almost certainly be a laughable measure. ¡°Fall back, Soldier!¡± came a call behind him, and before Jack could do much more than jump out of his skin and ease up his trigger finger, the blur of a dark figure streaked past him like a vertical lightning bolt. It was an Agent Nonpareil in all the getup ¡ª memory-metal full-body light armor suit, fully enclosing hard helmet with a mirrored visor, and the iconic, navy blue long coat whipping behind him. Wielding what looked like a pick and spear, the Non went for the monster, moving at enhanced speeds. It became a blurred storm of blows, pricking his enemy multiple times in the torso and limbs. The creature endured all such strikes without falling, but it shifted into a defensive mode with two hands up and protecting its head. Its tail had detracted a sharp stinger on the end, which it was trying to snake around behind its agile foe. Barely, the Non dodged a strike from the tail whipping from his flank. He continued sparring with it in a dance, his movements too quick to follow, sticking the creature several more times but failing to land a head blow. He called, ¡°Get out of here, Soldier! That¡¯s an order. Blue lights mean evac!¡± Indeed, Jack just noticed the emergency lights had changed to flashing blue, which meant to abandon the base. ¡°Yessir,¡± Jack muttered, and he reluctantly turned to run. Maybe he could find a vehicle, maybe he could find others to evacuate¡­ others not turned into puddles and limbs like¡­ It seemed like an eternity was spent going down that hallway. Near the end, he heard the Non cry out and turned to see him knocked into the wall and stunned; his spear had dropped from his hand. His pick was buried into the creature¡¯s neck, which did make it stumble backwards. But it recovered quickly to flick its tail out and finish off its fallen foe. On the plus side, its face was quite exposed. Jack¡¯s vision became tunnel-like at that moment. Adrenaline pumping, barely thinking, he raised his weapon, aimed, and took the shot of his life. The bullet shattered the eyewear and penetrated the eye, causing the beast to scream and reel back, its tail flicking violently away right before it would skewer the Non. ¡°Come on!¡± Jack called before firing another shot. ¡°You can run, too!¡± When the Non finally shook it off, though, the creature was still swinging its head and trying to gain its bearing. The Non grabbed his spear, got to his feet, and launched himself in a smooth motion, driving the spear right after Jack¡¯s bullet, deep into the monster¡¯s cranium. It spasmed once and collapsed, spraying black ichor from the wound that the Non dodged away from, abandoning his weapon to get coated in the dangerous gore. Before Jack could react much, the Non was by his side down the hallway, a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t make a habit of disobeying, but good job! Anyway, hop on my back. I¡¯ll get you out of here.¡± Jack moved to comply, but then the Non suddenly teetered and fell to a knee. ¡°A-are you alright?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ oh no.¡± The Non twisted around with his arm up to look at his side. There was a little discolored area in the flexible material. ¡°It''s sealed over, but¡­ I got cut. A lick of poison. I feel it. Shit. I¡¯m just not fast enough! I should¡¯ve been better against it. One more level is all. One more fraggin'' level, I bet. Six is big.¡± Level? ¡°What do we do?¡± ¡°Pray, I guess.¡± He tried to stand too quickly and almost fell. Jack caught him, almost falling with him, but just managing to keep them upright. ¡°I¡¯ll help. Easy peasy.¡± Jack kept an arm around the Non and began walking with him to keep him steady. A sigh. ¡°Not how this should go.¡± ¡°It is what it is, buddy.¡± ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re still in shock, I think. Got a soldier¡¯s gut, though. Solid. Also, I¡¯m Vim.¡± ¡°Jack.¡± ¡°You can pick up the pace, Jack. I¡¯m just super woozy so far, that¡¯s all.¡± Jack did so, making his way to the exit at as quick a walk as he could manage with his arm around someone. The door had simply fallen inward at some point, so he stepped out into the air. Things were not quite as frenetic as before, with only scattered sounds of battle. The outside looked blown up. His own VTOL tiltrotor aircraft was in scattered pieces, an empty ¡®bullet¡¯ craft of the enemy embedded in the ground where it used to be. Several torn-up corpses were lying around. The face of a mechanic he knew stared blankly, his lower half missing and his guts spilled out on the concrete. He had called Jack ¡®sport.¡¯ ¡°Fraggin'' Phanties,¡± Vim cursed. ¡°If they think they¡¯ll hold Fort Circe, they¡¯re in for a rude, rude awakening, compadre. The hammer is gonna drop.¡± Jack remembered thinking that Vim sounded like a teenager. Too young to die. But then, wasn¡¯t he? Wasn¡¯t Emma? Phanties. Phantoms? Something about their powers, their technology, I¡¯d guess. But it doesn¡¯t work very well within Mem¡¯s territory or so far from theirs. Something mental to it, too. The aura of fear. If I think about it, I can feel exactly how it felt then. I was ¡®exposed¡¯ to something terrible enough they put me in five kinds of quarantine and drove me nuts trying to make sure I wasn¡¯t nuts¡­ Jack was interrupted from his trip down memory lane by the sound of splashing water and movement. Neex¡¯s head popped out of the water, her skin all white like the tub, her rectangular pupils prominent and almost disks as they met his. ¡°Hi.¡± Her webbed hand came out of the water to raise awkwardly in greeting. A few of her head tentacles tried to mime it, forming a nubby cluster on the ends. Jack put his hand up, too. ¡°Hi. How are you? Are you feeling better?¡± ¡°Better,¡± she said vaguely, tasting and testing the word. Her eyes and pupils squinted a moment and then cleared. She looked at her still-held-up hand and turned it into a thumbs up, then looked at him uncertainly. Jack smiled and did the same. ¡°Great!¡± Neex nodded. ¡°Jelah eh-... thank? Thank Jack. Thank you?¡± Jack nodded encouragement. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Neex. I¡¯m glad to help. Happy to¡± ¡ª he gestured at the tub and the oxygen ¡ª ¡°help you.¡± He raised his eyebrows questioningly. ¡°Anything else?¡± He made an eating motion. ¡°Food? Do you need to eat?¡± She shook her head immediately. ¡°No need.¡± She dropped her hand and sunk down a bit into the water, her eyes just above the tub wall to look at him. ¡°Comfort.¡± The white around her pupils turned into a blue matrix, essentially looking very human-like. Mimicry. ¡°Jack, you warrior? Fight?¡± Jack shook his head somewhat uncertainly. ¡°Not really. No. I¡¯m a pilot.¡± He made a motion of turning a wheel. ¡°Vehicle driver. Fly machine?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Neex looked away. There might have been some disappointment there, but it was hard to tell. ¡°We all serve, one way or another. Mandatory training. Especially drone use. I was a pilot my whole career. I¡¯m good with the gun drones, too.¡± He made a ¡®twin guns firing¡¯ motion with his hands. Neex watched him curiously. ¡°Drones.¡± She seemed to understand it. ¡°Far kadabok killers.¡± ¡°Yes. Killers. You aren¡¯t a warrior? No fight?¡± He pointed at her questioningly. She gave a subtle shrug and shook her head slightly. ¡°Mitatoris. Aga scensoa¡­¡± Her lips quirked into a frown as she considered, then she sat up a bit to lift a hand and grab a head tentacle, wagging it significantly. Then she pinched a cheek, touched her nose and lips, and pointed at her eye. Finally, she made a gesture down at her body and then at him. ¡°Mita.¡± Jack nodded slowly. Life? A doctor, maybe. Or a biologist. ¡°Stitcher? Ever heard of Stitcher?¡± Neex looked at him blankly and shook her head. So much for that idea. ¡°Where are you from, Neex? Origin of Neex?¡± She understood this perfectly. As though rehearsed, she intoned, ¡°Ocean. Deucalia. Weddell. Calm. Under deep. Rock aga water. Help-¡± She cut herself off with her mouth still open, closing it and studying him uncertainly. Then she looked away and shook her head, muttering to herself. Stunned, Jack stared for a long moment, with some needles of alarm under his skin. Weddell Sea, The Calm. Under it. Holy-... holy shit. Is she not human? No. No way. She can¡¯t be! Not enough info. I¡¯m missing something. I don¡¯t know any Deucalia. Maybe an undersea lab. Hell yes ¡ª yeah! She was captured and taken. She¡¯s a secret Mem project for human oceanic adaptation. Has to be! Neex seemed sad, with her eyes gazing down on the water. Jack asked, ¡°Why are you sad? Not happy? No comfort?¡± Neex met his gaze and shook her head slightly. She lifted a cup of water in her hand. ¡°Comfort, Jack. Ulla praet¡­ past. Past ulla death.¡± She took the cup and dumped it over her head. ¡°Comfort.¡± Then, she pointed to herself. ¡°Death.¡± Jack shot up onto his feet as he picked up what she meant. ¡°No!¡± This caused Neex to be startled and slip entirely into the water, changing colors to blend in even more, mimicking the water. Unfortunately, the big soaked shirt ruined it for her once again, and her pupils were still visible. Immediately feeling like an asshole, Jack held his hands up. ¡°Sorry.¡± He took a deep breath as Neex slowly peeked her head back out. ¡°No dying, Neex. No death.¡± He pointed to himself. ¡°Jack help. Tell me.¡± Peering up at him, Neex shook her head. ¡°Time. Far ocean.¡± She scooped up the water again as her pupils went to bars slightly curving at the edges top and bottom. ¡°No Qualakuloth, no Qualakatus.¡± She dumped the water and rubbed her fingers and thumb together as if it were missing something. ¡°Need. Need bond.¡± Jack dropped down to the floor across from her, determined to figure shit out. ¡°What is Qualakuloth and Qualakatus? Explain.¡± ¡°Memoria,¡± Neex said reverently, but then lifted a wet finger to touch his forehead. ¡°Memoria aga Jack.¡± Then she pulled her finger away. ¡°Qualakuloth.¡± She touched her own forehead. ¡°Qualakuloth aga Neex.¡± Jack¡¯s blood ran cold. Another Archon. A bond? A bond to her Archon. No more denying what she is. Somehow, despite everything, despite the propaganda against the ¡®enemies of mankind,¡¯ and even being someone to see some of their viciousness firsthand, he didn¡¯t run screaming. It had to be different because Neex was different. Neex was Neex. ¡°You¡¯re not human,¡± was all he could manage to say. Neex cocked her head. She lifted a hand. ¡°Human. Homo sapien al terran. Ert.¡± She lifted another hand. ¡°Human. Homo grava al terran. Homo pala al terran. Ert ocean.¡± She made a ¡®weighing¡¯ gesture. ¡°Gena salla do dreina. Al terran, al terran. Al terra.¡± ¡°Al terran¡­ alter? Altered? Modified?¡± Her pupils did a swirl. She then shifted so she could reach down and gently guide his arm up to the lip of the tub. She held her arm up to his, pinched her own skin, then very mildly pinched his skin. ¡°Gena.¡± She held her finger and thumb up, nearly pressed together. ¡°Small. Small differences?¡± Jack at least remembered enough from biology to understand that concept. Humans were like ninety-something percent genetically similar to dogs, for instance. Neex nodded, then indicated herself. ¡°Homo pala al terran. Deucalian.¡± ¡°Qualakuloth altered humans into Deucalians?¡± That was quite a revelation if he was interpreting correctly. Would Memoria know? It wasn¡¯t as if the Mems didn¡¯t keep tons of secrets. Neex studied him. ¡°Al terra homo grava, Qualakuloth al terra homo pala. Far Time.¡± She gestured ¡®wide¡¯ with two hands. ¡°Far past.¡± The whole explanation thing seemed to have tired her, as her hands dropped with a splash. Her eyelids seemed heavier as she sighed and laid back. ¡°Time¡­¡± Shit. I¡¯m wasting it, here. Time. ¡°Please, Neex. Please tell me how to help. I don¡¯t want you to die. No death.¡± She shook her head as her eyelids drooped. She muttered, ¡°Jack wrong¡­ Jack warrior¡­ protect¡­ thank you¡­ comfort¡­¡± Her eyes closed as weakness took her again. Jack leaned up quickly and shot his hand into the tub to grab hers. ¡°Neex! Don¡¯t go under ¡ª stay with me! Neex!¡± With great effort, Neex¡¯s eyelids pulled open and she sucked in air as she tried to focus on Jack. She and her head tentacles swayed a bit. ¡°Skyman. Mmmph¡­ Jack, myself death¡­¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not! Keep fighting! Just keep talking ¡ª we¡¯ll just keep talking, okay?¡± She nodded vaguely. ¡°Jack¡­ ora ka Memoria, ora sa Qualakuloth din ferrata sulei. Friendly, ally, help¡­¡± She trailed off as she almost went under. Jack shook her out of it again. ¡°Yeah! Friendly! I want to help! Tell me more, Neex. Please.¡± She shook her head slightly and looked away, her state of consciousness deteriorating. ¡°Gena claras matta, gena¡­ gena¡­¡± ¡°Neex, tell me the story. What happened? How did you get here? Why did those men have you? They gave you the shirt?¡± ¡°Shirt.¡± The subject seemed to bring her to awareness as she looked down at it. ¡°Yes. Take frono biti. Give shirt.¡± ¡°What¡¯s frono biti? Human words. English?¡± She paused and didn¡¯t seem to have an answer. ¡°Deucalians come, humans destroy. Kill. Take. Take frono biti. Long time¡­ destroy en losa de Qualakatus, ada Butronokatus¡­ losa, lost¡­¡± ¡°What is it, Neex? What is Qualakatus? Bu-... Butronokatus? An object?¡± Her drooping eyes flitted around randomly at the last of her cognizance. ¡°Lost.¡± Her eyes finally refused to stay open as she went limp. ¡°Katus. Heart.¡± Then she was out. ¡°Neex!¡± He shook her, but there was zero response. ¡°Neex, please!¡± Nothing. She was completely dead weight. Even her head tentacles ceased to move. Chapter 4: Hope in a Box Chapter 4: Hope in a Box Stifling his panic, Jack checked Neex¡¯s pulse, hoping her anatomy was close enough for it to make sense. It was ¡ª he felt a weak pulse. Upon inspection, she also seemed as if she was still breathing. A coma. But she was fatalistic. She might not last long. What the hell do I do?! What good is a hospital when she needs her Archon or whatever to survive? Supernatural shit. He could try taking her to the Mems. But she may have never been in Memorial-controlled space. He could see a tactical cruise missile just vaporizing her, him, and Alice the instant Memoria became aware of a ¡®contaminant.¡¯ A threat that close? He could really, really see it. He was set to do it anyway, maneuvering his arms underneath her to rise. He¡¯d get the oxygen in the vehicle somehow or another. ¡®Friendly, ally, help,¡¯ she said. Maybe to Memoria. To humanity, right? What if this is important? Important. An important object. Wait. He froze. Something important, just like whatever was in the box hidden and smuggled behind signal blockers and fake gears. Something destroyed¡­ or lost. Something they might¡¯ve found and brought. A ¡®heart?¡¯ An ¡®alien¡¯ artifact? She mentioned Qualakatus twice; the first time, what she needed¡­ frag me, I have to open that box to see. It could be what saves her. He pulled his arms from under Neex and said softly, ¡°Just hold on for me, Neex. If there¡¯s a heart in there, it¡¯s yours. Batra- er, Bo- whatever!¡± Jack hurried through the door, pulling the radio off his belt loop and clicking the receiver. ¡°Uncle, you there? I need to cut through metal quickly. I think it''s copper.¡± After a moment, his uncle responded. ¡°White-painted building on your right if facing the house. Workshop. Whatever you can handle, son. Knock yourself out.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the fastest thing?¡± ¡°If it''s a plate? Or thin? Laser fabric cutter. State of the fraggin'' art. Got it a year ago. Great for quick pattern cutting and smooth engraving. Don¡¯t suppose you can operate one yourself?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Jack lied, already outside. He was not going to slow down for anything at that point, including for safe machine operation. ¡°Gotta say, you¡¯re not filling me with confidence that you won¡¯t frag up my expensive laser machine, Jack.¡± ¡°I¡¯m in here already,¡± another voice interjected. ¡°I¡¯ll help ya out. Bring it on in.¡± Jack was just jogging up to his car. ¡°I appreciate it. Be a few minutes at most.¡± He grabbed his electric socket wrench, dug out the gearbox, and unscrewed the few bolts holding the case to pry it off. He then got off the bolts anchoring the copper box to the bottom of the works to get it free. As he began making his way to the workshop at a quickened pace, he fought to remove the tape wrapped around the box. ¡°Come on, you stupid ass tape! Off! I don¡¯t need questions about your warnings. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re doing anything fishy here.¡± Jack was just slowing down near the workshop, trying to flick the rolled up, sticky ball off his hand ¡ª unsuccessfully ¡ª when he noticed the guy hanging out in front. He was slight and skinny, in overalls that were too big for him and a ballcap with a bullseye symbol on it. He was smoking a herbal cigarette. ¡°Oh, hey!¡± Jack called and held up the copper box. ¡°Here it is. Heh.¡± He handed it over while still flicking his free hand. Unstick already! ¡°Has some rough welding at the top.¡± The man took it with one hand, taking a drag of his ciggy with the other, squinting and studying the box. He blew out smoke and half-pulled a paper pack out of his chest pocket to display to Jack. ¡°Ciggy?¡± ¡°No thanks, trying to quit. So, uh, think you can cut it quickly, then? Up just at the edge? As quickly as possible, please. Quickity quick-quick.¡± Jack tried to finesse the sticky ball off of his hand. He ¡®succeeded¡¯ in transferring it to his other hand. Great. The man gave him a bit of an incredulous look. ¡°What¡¯s the hurry, champ? Got a hot date? What¡¯s in it?¡± ¡°A, uh, an antique. But I want to get it over with before sunset and get some food.¡± ¡°Now that I can understand.¡± He took a final hit of the ciggy and tamped it out into a thick leather glove. ¡°Alright, no problem. Weird package.¡± He turned to pull open the door. Jack followed. ¡°Tsh, you¡¯re telling me? Jack, if you didn¡¯t hear.¡± The open door was a perfect opportunity ¡ª baring his teeth, Jack emphatically smushed the sticky ball to it, ridding himself of its curse once and for all, with great satisfaction. Ha. Get stuck, tape! I win, you asshole. ¡°Most call me Bullseye.¡± ¡°Wow. Like a codename?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°The hat says it all.¡± ¡°Yup. Like a nametag, basically.¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty handy.¡± ¡°Yup. If I was facing ya when it came up, I¡¯d just point to the hat.¡± ¡°Pretty tragic that circumstances prevented it today.¡± ¡°That¡¯s life, right?¡± The shop was a typical mechanical facility stacked with copious tools, toolboxes, lifts, and work tables. It was a very clean one, though. Some sort of motor was disassembled on a platform. The laser cutter was in its own special room, along with a few other lathes, past an automatically closing door. Inside, Bullseye put the box down on a grid of jagged metal teeth and utilized a special clamp arm within that matrix so the box was at a diagonal angle. He began plugging away into the computer terminal, which moved the laser array over the box and ¡®scanned¡¯ it. A few more clicks, and the laser got into position to cut diagonally through the copper. Here¡¯s hoping that hope is in there. In short order, in a spray of sparks and compressed air, the laser cut through the top edge of the box, side to side, the clamp rotating it ninety degrees at each corner. With the last smooth cut, the thin copper top dropped onto the teeth with a clang. Jack was holding his breath the whole time. But nothing weird happened. ¡°Can I get it out of the clamp?¡± Jack asked breathlessly. ¡°Looks simple enough.¡± And I expose you less to whatever this is. Bullseye shrugged. The laser was already parked well away from the box. ¡°Sure. It¡¯s ready; go ahead. Be careful. Don¡¯t touch the top for a couple minutes without an oven mitt or gloves or something.¡± Jack unclamped the copper rectangle and pulled it away. When he glanced inside, he only saw black within. He didn¡¯t linger, immediately running off with it, calling behind him, ¡°Thanks a ton, Bullseye!¡± ¡°Hey! Wait!¡± ¡°Hell yeah, brother! Can¡¯t wait to check this out! Later!¡± ¡°But¡­ don¡¯t I get to see?¡± His crestfallen question was answered only by Jack¡¯s dust and the closing of an automatic door. Jack sprinted back to the house, holding the box awkwardly out in front of him. When he got to the bathroom, Neex was under the water and deathly still. Not good! But he forced himself not to react to avoid wasting time. Action, action, action! He turned the box over and started trying to get whatever was in it out. It did not come free easily ¡ª some type of foam filled the insides. But it seemed to shift with more weight ¡®behind¡¯ it, so he kept at it with raw flinging force, and eventually, the foam peeked out of the edge. A little more effort and it was enough that he could pull it out. Wrapped in a thick layer of brown foam and tape was something in a vague oval shape. It felt hard underneath. Sitting down in the chair immediately next to the bathtub, Jack pulled out his pocket knife to tear into it. He also turned down his radio to avoid sudden disturbances. As soon as he pierced into the inner pocket, he felt something weird ripple through the air, unlocalized. In that split instant, he thought it was what he¡¯d experienced from the monster three years ago, but in the next instant, he unequivocally knew it was not the same. What touched and passed through him was something else. It was the brush of alien whiskers in a dark, cold, and wet abyss he was briefly adjacent to. Sensory recognition, but passing by in undulation, never stopping. Incurious, it took no hold of him ¡ª in fact, it ignored him. At that point, the feeling dissipated, leaving nothing more than an indescribable vibe and heaviness in the air. The water of the tub rippled. It might¡¯ve been Neex. Swallowing a suddenly dry throat, Jack cut through the rest of the packing material with hands he was a bit surprised were steady. He peeled out the object but decided to keep from directly touching it. Maybe it didn¡¯t matter, but¡­ He was mesmerized by what he saw. It was like a hand-sized nautilus shell, only the shell was iridescent, and it was not empty but filled with a¡­ petrified creature, vaguely squid-like, though eyeless. All of it caught the light and cast glass-like reflections. The contours and colors were like a smoother petrified wood, but he could make out little squished-in tentacle outlines. What was more, as he held it up to the light and the reflections shifted beautifully from within, when he caught it at a certain angle to the side, the whole thing became transparent, and he could see inside of it. The curves of strange inner organs, and then spiral layers ¡ª empty chambers ¡ª getting smaller and smaller and smaller, down seemingly into infinity. Jack¡¯s eyes locked onto that point, and he stared, feeling as if there was some subtle movement¡­ and then the thing pulsed ¡ª all of it ¡ª like a muscle, like a heart beating, the vibration discernible in his hand. The unseen movement in the air rippled again, this time like a startled underwater creature hitching from underneath. ¡°Hyaah!¡± Jack spasmed and flung the thing by instinct. Before he completely followed through, he tried to correct and grab it, but, sadly, his grip on it was poor due to holding it with the foam packing between it and his skin. It was fumbled and tossed ¡ª right on top of Neex. With a splash, it landed in the water and carried through into her shirt-shrouded midsection. As soon as it touched her, another ripple pulsed through the air, but stronger, and followed by more and more in a steady cascade. But they didn¡¯t seem to touch Jack this time ¡ª instead, it was like they were bent toward Neex. Honing in on her. Reaching. She first began twitching in her muscles and particularly in her head tentacles. Then something within her answered the resonance focusing on her ¡ª her own ripple. The artifact thrummed once, much deeper, a violent vibration that shook the water and even the walls. It was like the singular heartbeat of something massive, dwarfing all the other tiny and subtle motions. Neex¡¯s eyes opened immediately underneath the water, and they went wide as they beheld the artifact. Wonder and amazement glittered there. She twisted as agile as an eel to bring the artifact closer, holding it in two hands in front of her face. Her mouth opened, and from somewhere deep within her, sounds came ¡ª first like a long, piercing whine or squeal with more harmonic depth, somehow pleasant to the ear and brimming with joy and excitement. Following it immediately was something more like a call, rhythmic and fluttering. It was musical, and its final notes were like one rapid line of a flute song. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Much like it caught the light, the artifact seemed to catch the song and reflect it, spitting it back out in deeper harmonics like a supporting undercurrent. Jack stared and listened in stunned amazement, caught up in the alien beauty. I think it¡¯s awakening. Two more irregular heartbeats thrummed, and then it was going continuously. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. The room vibrated. Neex, looking livelier and livelier, continued singing lighter harmonics, as though encouraging and cajoling it, and moved her hands back slightly. Distortion in the water seemed to hold the artifact suspended, unsinking. Neex slowly shifted and raised her head above the water, transitioning smoothly from ¡®inner sounds¡¯ underwater to bird-like song from her mouth above it. She rose entirely out of the water and stood with it. The artifact levitated with similar wavy distortions in the air. She made intricate wavy motions with her hands and fingers as her song became irregular rather than perfectly continuous. The water of the bathtub lifted out of it and flowed around the room into branching little rivers, and then the rivers branched into streams, and then the streams into smaller ones, on and on, until the water effectively disappeared into the air. It became exceptionally damp in the room and also heavier, thicker, and colder. The light went dimmer, like the artifact was swallowing the majority of it, but a portion was still reflected out as though from an intricate prism. It was multihued and shimmered like sunbeams cast through an upper watery surface. ¡°More, please,¡± Neex said, her face one of intense focus. Her shirt had dried as the water was entirely pulled from it. Jack had to shake himself from a stupor. ¡°What? Oh, water? More water?¡± She nodded, still not taking her eyes off the artifact. Jack obliged to turn on the bathtub¡¯s water, which momentarily began streaming into the space of the room. After another bathtub full of water ¡ª at the least ¡ª streamed out and thickened the air, Neex finally relaxed, breathing a slow sigh with her eyes closed. Her tentacles mimicked her, lifting up and then drooping. Meanwhile, the heart artifact was steadily thrumming away in midair above the tub. It was then that Neex began to laugh. At first, her shoulders were shaking, but soon it was a torrent of musical joy. ¡°Neja dorsul! No death!¡± She looked at Jack and held her hands up in presentation with a big smile. ¡°Jack find heart! No death!¡± Jack laughed a bit too, if nervously, and repeated, ¡°No death! I told you!¡± Neex burst into more hysterical laughter as she hopped over the lip of the tub and continued hopping up and down. ¡°No death, no death!¡± Her head tentacles were doing a ¡®wave¡¯ like a dance. She took Jack¡¯s hands and hopped some more. ¡°No death!¡± Jack couldn¡¯t resist that compulsion, feeling such relief himself. He hopped with her ¡ª somewhat awkwardly ¡ª acting and smiling like an idiot. ¡°No death, no death, haha! Hell yes! Get fragged, Death!¡± The octogirl paused suddenly, blinking and looking down at Jack¡¯s hands. Both of her hands shifted to take one of his, each half the size. She squeezed multiple parts of it ¡ªpalm, finger, thumb ¡ª and then turned it over to pinch his wrist like she was taking a pulse. ¡°What is it?¡± Jack asked. She shook her head slightly and then glanced at him. She blinked and pulled away shyly suddenly, eyes fluttering around and her skin immediately blending in with the background. She folded her hands in front of her and bowed. ¡°Myself sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright. There¡¯s no offense, Neex. You¡¯re fine.¡± Neex gazed up at him as if reading intent in his face, then nodded. ¡°Okay. Jack ella dun grobba.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± He shook his head in confusion. She opened her mouth and then paused, glancing at the artifact. Her pupils turned into a squiggly line as she hissed and made an exasperated motion with a finger at her skull, which Jack interpreted probably meant something like ¡®stupid me!¡¯ Neex made a musical whistle noise and lifted her hand to waggle her fingers at the artifact. Concentrated prismatic light beamed from it over to her, then formed into something plasma-like and brightly glowing that she shaped up above her head and between them. More manipulation turned the chaotic blob into symbols Jack didn¡¯t recognize. As Neex made a motion that seemed to reverse-image them, they morphed and shifted shapes until they formed clear English script. Jack burst out in laughter at that. She has to be a doctor. ¡°Uh, yeah, I-¡± He cut himself off and pointed to the text questioningly. ¡°Will it translate?¡± She looked a bit embarrassed and nodded, then gestured with her hands. The text turned into a blob. She made an encouraging gesture for him to start. Watching the blob, Jack said, ¡°I didn¡¯t have¡­¡± Sure enough, the text in English began to appear, so he continued. ¡°Breakfast or any food. Not typical, but I¡¯ll be fine. Thanks.¡± Neex gestured, and the text reversed, forming into the alien script. Momentarily, she made more text in response. Jack nodded. ¡°Maybe we should sit down.¡± He took the chair, and she came to sit down on the edge of the bathtub facing him, her legs and feet stretched out in front of her, one crossed over the other. The blob of plasma came with her to float between them. Rolling his neck and sighing, Jack continued, ¡°Why don¡¯t we just take it from the top. Why are you here, and what happened with those men?¡± He glanced at the floating artifact. ¡°How is this heart thing involved?¡± Neex wriggled her fingers, almost like typing, making the text form. She shrugged before continuing to conjure text, getting faster and more excited as she went. Pausing at that point, Neex seemed to study Jack for a reaction. Jack nodded along slowly and soberly, her words beginning to make him cautiously optimistic that his gambles had been the right call. Not that any of this shit is my call at this point. I¡¯m no diplomat, I¡¯m a taxi man. But he didn¡¯t let any doubt show on his face. Neex seemed relieved and happy at this and continued. Jack was disbelieving and embarrassed at the idea. A whole other civilization being affected by his behavior? She had to be exaggerating. ¡°Neex, I don¡¯t know that I¡¯m the greatest template to go off of, good or bad. I¡¯m just an average guy for the most part. Nothing special. I mean, I literally dropped the artifact. If I hadn¡¯t been facing you close to the tub, we¡¯d have a, well, broken Heart.¡± Neex giggled once she read the translation. Jack grimaced. He was troubled, angry, and puzzled by the story. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you got put through such a thing, Neex. I¡¯m sorry about your friend. Bastards for sure. Independent ground dwellers. Scavengers dealing with trash processing. There is zero expectation of trouble in that area. Enemies just don¡¯t get that close. No offense.¡± Jack frowned. ¡°Maybe drones hit you instead? Could¡¯ve been automated defenses. Depending on just how independent the facility is. That I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never transported anyone in those areas. Different protocols.¡± An automated attack worried him even more. Wouldn¡¯t Memoria be aware of it, or would that be too automated for her to consciously realize the gravity of the situation? There were still dangerous, mundane creatures out in the wilds. But a vehicle getting blasted¡­ Well, she isn¡¯t omniscient. Not with how much her attention is divided. Neex gestured out a response. ¡°Well, you just missed it. I was transporting a man to your location with it heavily hidden and shielded. He came up the tower for whatever reason. I guess they had it down in Southtower somewhere. It¡¯s a pain getting flight traffic out from there. To anywhere. Doable, but a pain. Pressed for time? Forget it. Different protocols, tighter customs. He probably had a way to sidestep. Not that this means anything to you. Point is, they had it.¡± Neex¡¯s eyes widened as realization dawned, and then she dropped her head and shook it for a moment. But she shrugged and began gesturing again. ¡°How did you escape?¡± Jack nodded at the text and chuckled. ¡°You can buck really hard. Experienced it firsthand. And I saw you give three grown men hell before knocking them out with that pulse.¡± Neex had a ripple of prismatic color cross her skin, and her pupils shrunk as she cast her gaze away. ¡°Badda mei dosa¡­¡± After a moment, she gestured to make more script. An energy drink, maybe? And her first time. With a different physiology. Oof. ¡°And that brings us here, when I gave you a ride. Well, you''re still my client.¡± He grinned. ¡°This is my destination, not yours. How can I help from here? I don¡¯t suppose a ride will do?¡± Neex eyed the translation, and her eyes cast downward. She took a deep breath before answering. After this, Neex was gazing at Jack hopefully. Jack frowned doubtfully. ¡°Bring them here? This is independent territory. She¡¯s blocked and stays out by contract without specific protocols. Not only that, but I¡¯m extremely worried about the reaction to you and, uh¡­ that. The Heart. What¡¯s behind it. I can¡¯t think of anything that would cause her and her organization to overreact and negatively respond more than this.¡± Neex paused, flitting her eyes around despairingly before responding. Even as Jack was puzzling over this, the Heart suddenly did a rapid series of beats, and he felt that resonance through the air ¡ª movement and whirls without sound or imagery. Neex jumped in surprise, scrambling and almost falling back into the tub, and her head whipped around to stare at the Heart. But Jack felt ¡®the presence¡¯ brush him again, too. This time, he was certain he was not ignored. Neex turned a shade of purple as she bowed her head and muttered rapidly in her language. Then she turned slowly away, still looking down, thoughtful. Her color slowly faded as she shuffled her feet. Her head tentacles twitched around. Finally, she formed script. ¡°No. What are you talking about?¡± More secrets, Memoria? Neex eyed him sadly and shook her head. Jack was stunned. Corrupted? Humanity? ¡°What causes it?¡± ¡°A bond? With Qualakuloth?¡± That seemed absolutely insane. Neex¡¯s eyes averted, and she turned purple all over again. Jack was squinting in thought, trying to get his head around it. ¡°So you need some chosen hotshot arranged to do¡­ some sort of bond-pact¡­ thing? Huh. Tricky.¡± Neex¡¯s pupils squiggled like mad as her lips quirked to one side. One of her hands was strumming fingers on the tub. She darted her other hand to do the script quickly. Chapter 5: As a Human Being Chapter 5: As a Human Being ¡°What?¡± Jack looked from the text to Neex to back again. ¡°What?! Me?!¡± He struggled to process the meaning. ¡°Neex, I-... Look, I think you¡¯re great, but I¡¯m not ready for something like this! Is this like marriage? I don¡¯t even know how old you are!¡± When Neex read the translation, her eyes bugged out, she turned white, and then covered her face in her hands in embarrassment. The head tentacles dropped down over it, too, though one gesticulated at him threateningly. Finally, she moved a hand to make a response, still hiding behind the other. As an afterthought, she added the singular line, ¡°Oh.¡± The realization hit Jack like a brick. Champion. A Champion of Memoria, a Non. It can¡¯t be real. It¡¯s determined after puberty. I missed the boat. But¡­ Jack blew air out and leaned forward on his knees, running a hand over his face and hair as he looked down at the floor. ¡°Sorry. This is a lot to absorb. A lot to believe. Doesn¡¯t it involve Memoria? She didn¡¯t pick me.¡± Neex got over her embarrassment enough to look confused. She shook her head. Jack almost felt slapped by that bombshell. ¡°She doesn¡¯t pick anyone?¡± Jack considered it. There were special protocols for Non development within Independent territories. It varied, but he¡¯d read some of the agreements. The most closed communities blocked everything. In New Babylon, it was simple: you were taken immediately, and special arrangements were made with your guardians. They were sworn to secrecy and well-compensated, while you got sent to ¡®military school.¡¯ Something every kid dreamed about. In ¡®friendly¡¯ independent territories like Eden, the potential Non could not be ¡®taken¡¯ but was expected to report to New Babylon and the Mems. A ¡®provisional agreement¡¯ was in place, whatever that meant. ¡°She¡¯s blocked,¡± Jack said finally. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t know or respond just from that. Whether what you do is detectable, I¡¯m not sure.¡± Neex nodded. ¡°Why? Tell me why.¡± She averted her eyes briefly before responding. ¡°Rewards,¡± Jack repeated, gazing over at the thrumming luminous shell creature that was the Heart. First friend from the sky. Wow. He felt a measure of wonder at that. And a pride rising up that he was suspicious of. Did he truly do something significant? Maybe not. A lot of other people would do the same, wouldn¡¯t they? Right place, right time. And maybe he was a rube. A mark. Maybe it was a farce for that being to get to Memoria. Shit. That would make me an unwitting traitor. How likely is that? Is it a risk? Things aren¡¯t always what they appear. Neex was gesturing. Jack studied her with his hands folded under his chin as he leaned forward. No way she¡¯s evil, but Quallakuloth could be using her as a pawn, right? I¡¯m too ignorant to know how it all works. That would be Memoria¡¯s fault for her secrecy, but we¡¯d all pay¡­ who knows what kind of price? In the pause, Neex continued. Jack nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah. I get it. But one last thing: what happens after? After this ritual, or pact, or whatever it is you¡¯ll do.¡± And without luck, she¡¯ll disintegrate us all. Or we disappear forever. That was what happened to those who committed terrible crimes. Killers, terrorists, the worst of the worst ¡ª they just disappeared. A threat to mankind would certainly fit the bill. ¡°What about your connection? You¡¯ll be alright if this is done? You said it was a permanent solution. For your health and well-being, right?¡± Neex gave him a flat look, her pupils going to skinny bars. ¡°Maybe, maybe not, but I¡¯m asking.¡± Her pupils did a swirl as she quirked her lip. Sighing, she gave a thumbs up. ¡°Neex good, Jack.¡± She gestured to make script briefly. Jack frowned right back at her. Evasive. But I already know I¡¯m right from what she said earlier, though she called it a ¡®side benefit.¡¯ This is almost certainly the most surefire way to keep her alive. ¡°Why is this so important? Why did you all risk your lives to do this? Is friendship with us that desirable?¡± Neex¡¯s pupils turned to curved lines like a frowny face and her skin rippled, becoming prickly. Jack barked a laugh. ¡°This is the last.¡± She huffed, perhaps ironically, and then made more script. ¡°Right, I get it. If I agree¡­¡± He made a motion with his hand. Jack nodded, frowning and sitting back to sigh grandly. What a thing for a shmoe like me to have to decide. Southern Lights, Sky Above, help me. Suddenly, he remembered how the day started and he barked a bitter laugh. Neex looked at him quizzically, so he said, ¡°I skipped breakfast, remember? I knew the day would be totally screwed up. I knew it.¡± Neex gave him a stern look. ¡°Jack. Food. Now.¡± She pointed at the door. He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Quite a command already. Is this what I would have to look forward to with this bond thing?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She nodded firmly and formed script. Jack looked from the script to her, incredulous. Her face was too smooth and tight, damning her as full of shit. Jack made his eyes widen and his brow draw up comically. Neex immediately broke, snickered, and grinned wide, practically ear-to-ear. Her head tentacles did curls. Chuckling, Jack rose to his feet. ¡°Okay. A drink, at least. Enjoy your meditation.¡± Neex gave a thumbs up, and Jack headed for the door. He paused at it briefly, looking down at the handle. He felt like he was being watched from behind by two sets of eyes. It doesn¡¯t have eyes, though¡­ He went through the door, feeling a quick, though not quite instant change from cold, damp, thick air, to the normal warm, dry, thin air he was used to. Warm-er, anyway. The difference wasn¡¯t super extreme. The lighting was the biggest change. It was like downgrading in dimensions, somehow, despite being brighter. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Greater clarity in the dark? Jack closed the door behind him and took a deep breath, trying to process things. There was too much. His instinctual choice, his urge for ¡®more,¡¯ the answering of a call ¡ª it pushed and nagged at him. He felt he had to deconstruct it a bit, play Devil¡¯s Advocate. Just to pay heed to the gravity of what he was considering. He went to the counter and poured some water. Just as it was touching his lips, his eyes caught another container close by, filled with a darker liquid. Liquor? Well, if there was ever a time, right? Jack fished in a cabinet for a whiskey glass and poured a finger of the rich, amber liquid. He sipped and felt the burn go down. False warmth, but it felt good. Appropriate, somehow. Jack decided to go outside with it. He turned up his radio, but there was nothing. His uncle wasn¡¯t back, but he would be soon ¡ª the last of the twilight still held, but night was coming. As usual, when he drank any alcohol, he thought of his father. A voice that automatically chided, ¡®Your father was an alcoholic.¡¯ An inescapable warning and self-judgment. Frederick Laker. Freddie. A man who had only truly abused the liquid spirits after being abused by circumstance ¡ª not that it excused him. His wife, Jack¡¯s mother, was seduced away by some crazy religious cult. A gradual but increasingly nasty divide occurred between them because his dad rejected it. She¡¯d brought Jack to church a couple of times, and the argument that inevitably spawned was one he¡¯d never forget. Screaming vitriol from both sides the likes of which he¡¯d never seen or heard. The cult was an offshoot of the Mardukites, worshiping the one-time ancient god of the Babylonians. They were okay folk normally ¡ª orderly, adjusted, Memoria-worship adjacent ¡ª but the cult leader of the offshoot was a different story. A self-styled prophet, he was adamant Memoria was no good for humanity and they had to ¡®separate¡¯ to obtain their own holiness for Marduk¡­ or whatever. Jack¡¯s memory was foggy. But his mother bought into it entirely. Went cuckoo. She even became a ¡®prophetess.¡¯ She separated from her husband and things got¡­ messy. They got even worse when his dad found out she was impregnated by the leader. He hunted down and assaulted the man, almost killing him. So a horrible cycle began when he went into ¡®Intensive Rehabilitation.¡¯ Jack¡¯s mother wanted custody, but Jack hated the idea and did his rebellious best to refuse, including insisting about his desire to go into the military as soon as possible. The state found her unfit as a guardian and he went to live with his uncle. The prophet leader got his wish in his own, isolated community off-plat with his horde of duped believers. Many wives, eventually. So Jack had heard. His mother, the ¡®Honored Ascendant Second Wife,¡¯ wrote to him, but her words became more and more saturated in her religiosity. Insistence he should come to live with her to be ¡®free and separated.¡¯ He stopped reading for the most part. His dad got out eventually, tried to get on track, and made lots of promises to Jack¡¯s face, but he rarely managed to keep them. He hit the bottle harder and harder and it simply took him. He¡¯d survived, at least. He held it together long enough to see his son graduate from military school and become a pilot. He was very proud of that. He¡¯d even managed to make it to graduation sober. Three months, showing off a token of the latest program. That had made Jack proud, too ¡ª of him. It was something, even if it couldn¡¯t last. Hope briefly corked in a cracked bottle. He could never forget that feeling, then. That things had maybe changed for the better, because there he was, fulfilling a promise for once. Looking up at the first stars that were visible in the faded light, Jack lifted his drink in salute. ¡°Here¡¯s to you, Dad. You tried.¡± He downed the whiskey and winced. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not dead.¡± I¡¯ve probably got a dozen half-siblings by now from my Dearest Momma. I wonder if they¡¯re all brain-washed loonies, or if one is looking up right now at the same star, wishing they could get out, get away. Free will. It¡¯s a real bitch of a thing, isn¡¯t it? Memoria gives us the benefit of the doubt and we frag it up with our bullshit. We give it away to others, we abuse them, abuse ourselves. But life goes on, I guess. It functions. A powerful machine chugging away, unstoppable, errors be damned. We¡¯ll endure, we¡¯ll adapt. We¡¯ll mutate. Jack wandered over to his vehicle, turning the empty glass in his hand. ¡°So, Alice¡­¡± She responded as quickly as ever. ¡°Yes, Jack?¡± ¡°Should I do it?¡± ¡°I need more information, Jack. Do what?¡± ¡°Accept an offer of great promise and potential, at the risk of everything. But it could also be no risk at all. I could risk promise and potential for¡­ everyone, even, by refusing.¡± ¡°This sounds like a very difficult decision, Jack. You should weigh the pros and cons, and determine the severity and likelihood of the risks. Does it align with your own goals, personally and professionally? But also consider how it affects others around you long-term. Seeking advice from others could be the key to gaining some critical perspective.¡± Typical. ¡°I¡¯m afraid extensive breakdown and specific advice is probably not in the cards.¡± ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate. Perhaps you should trust your instincts? If you must make a decision quickly, the subconscious mind can pick up things your rational mind hasn¡¯t fully processed.¡± ¡°Heh. You¡¯re probably right, Alice.¡± ¡°Good luck with your decision, Jack!¡± ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± He sat down on the roof of the car and thought it over. Instincts. He could almost go either way with those. Some innate part of him rejected the idea of consorting with another Archon. It was absurd. Unthinkable. Yet his gut trusted Neex. Weighing pros and cons? His own goals? Most of this was on the side of doing it. He was being offered a metric shitton. It was everything he¡¯d wanted since he was a kid. Superpowers. Are you kidding? Of course, he wanted them. Of course, he wanted ¡®in.¡¯ Serving Memoria¡­ he¡¯d come to feel quite mixed on that, especially after all the psyche evaluations and ¡®rehabilitation¡¯ in quarantine. He could rationalize why she did the things she did, but that was different from agreeing with them. The state of ignorance she maintained made it impossible to fully grade her. He didn¡¯t have enough information to know if her way was best. It was always left to trust. He just didn¡¯t know if what he was offered would put him ¡®in her camp.¡¯ If it did, everything would change. He¡¯d be one of them. He had no real aspirations about ¡®change from within¡¯ or any stupid shit like that. If he became one of them, he¡¯d do his best for the functioning of the role. His duty. It was as simple as that. If he had say, if he sensed he had clout, sure, he¡¯d use it toward his own principles. How the decision affected others and the risk¡­ that was where things got hairy. He was locked into the uncertainty without a way to know. If it was simply dangerous to him, he¡¯d have never left the room. That risk was more than worth it. It had everything to do with the fact that one of the ¡®default enemies¡¯ of humanity could be an existential threat to Memoria through the bond they conspired. A wolf in sheep¡¯s clothing, offering something sweet, but in reality ending up to be poisoned fangs. It was possible, wasn¡¯t it? How convoluted was it? Was it plausibly the motive through it all? The key being an innocent Neex sheltered and manipulated, giving all the cues of a pitiable, good-intentioned idealist. Get her here and sell the story, then get an agreement out of someone who will buy it. Maybe they expected a bleeding heart. Hmm, am I a bleeding heart? Damn. He was trying to sell himself on the idea. But¡­ Neex had indicated the ¡®hope¡¯ for someone who¡¯d listen, but not the expectation. She acted more pleasantly surprised. Honestly, getting blown to hell should¡¯ve been the expectation. That was exactly what happened, she¡¯d just survived it. Maybe it was logical to expect interception and capture by the military on a ground base. In that case, they¡¯d assume to converse with intelligent operatives and the whole nine yards. Memoria herself would judge them. That didn¡¯t seem like a great plan to pull off a deception. If they wanted a rube like me, hailing a base to get blown up seems like a stupendously bad tactic. Why not deceive some rando closer to their territory? They could even study a base or something and pick a good target. He understood the frontlines were not very receptive. The deeper one went into the territories, the more opportunities for clueless people would come up. Military personnel in the inner territories were not immune to that. The only reason he could think to travel all the way to New Babylon was to make Memoria notice them directly. A bold risk. But they¡¯d ignorantly popped up in likely independent territory and hailed the wrong sort of facility. It was that or Memoria was too busy to notice. They¡¯d stealthed themselves the whole way, after all. Perhaps they were too good. Jack sighed. A deception by Quallakuloth remained reasonably plausible but seemed less likely when he tried to rationalize Neex¡¯s story. Unless he could completely rule it out, it remained a question of, ¡°Can I take the chance?¡± The safer bet was handing it off to Memoria ¡ª if he could. And then¡­ what? The Mems would come. One way or another, she¡¯d respond. She¡¯s blocked off, but her agents could talk. Or they could raze the whole manor. Just to be safe, right? ¡®Phew, that was a close one, she was almost exposed to Memoria!¡¯ Jack grimaced. They did not get the totality of the personal impressions he did. They could easily jump to conclusions. He might be in the best position to make the right decision. Especially if he believed Neex. Skies help me, I do. Too much, maybe. I don¡¯t want to shutter this. What led to here, and where it could lead me. If I hand it off, it¡¯ll all be taken and swept away. I¡¯ll be sworn to absolute secrecy. If I was a good Memorial Boy, I¡¯ll get to go back to my boring ass life. One I didn¡¯t even ask for. Hell¡­ I might not even learn what happens here once I fly away to deliver myself and this message. ¡®Classified, son. Good boy, pat-pat. Now move along.¡¯ He shook his head, unable to stomach the thought he¡¯d be stripped of being a part of it, of knowing. He lay back on the car and stared up at the sky. It became a scowl. A frustration was boiling in him, up from deep within. No. No, Memoria. I¡¯m sick of not knowing! Sick of the wool over my eyes. You don¡¯t get to make that decision and don¡¯t get to make this one, either. I saw this through. This is mine, this is my Pandora''s Box, my hope within it I exposed. I have to own it and carry it. I can¡¯t pawn it off. I won¡¯t. We¡¯re not playing this one safe. Jack sat up and hopped to the ground with a surge of excited certainty pumping through his veins. He took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯re doing it, Alice.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fantastic, Jack! Congratulations on your new opportunity. Wishing you the best of luck on your journey! Be sure to stay focused, have a positive mindset, and never stop learning.¡± Not every homo sapien would make the same choice. I can¡¯t know how many would be with me, or who would understand. I don¡¯t make the decision lightly, but I make it as a human being. As it should be, for better and worse. ¡°Thanks, Alice. Welp, I guess it¡¯s time to go shake The Devil¡¯s hand!¡± He rushed inside, running like an idiot, his answer burning in his throat and ready to spill forth.
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Chapter 6: Surgery of Transcendent Things Chapter 6: Surgery of Transcendent Things Jack barreled through the door of the humid, darkly luminous, gently thrumming bathroom, blurting out, ¡°I agree! I¡¯m in, haha!¡± Neex was sitting down in the center of the room, cross-legged, with the Heart in her hands and lap. She beamed at Jack¡¯s entrance and took a deep breath, her smile turning into something more serene as she nodded. But her head tentacles were in curls like a crown around her head. ¡°Good, Jack.¡± She pointed to the spot in front of her insistently. ¡°Right.¡± Nodding, Jack closed the door behind him and then hesitantly locked the door, too. Nothing fishy going on here at all, nope¡­ Not in this mood-lit, pulsating bathroom with an alien hybrid sapient and an alien artifact from the abyss. Though it might seem that way, I can explain! Banishing his slightly hysterical thought patterns, Jack turned back around and walked over to sit cross-legged in front of Neex, glancing at the blob of plasma waiting to ¡®textify¡¯ just above their heads. He cleared his throat. ¡°So, uh¡­ anything else I should know? About the Bond and whatnot. You said it wasn¡¯t a pact or contract? Is it reversible? Does it hurt? So on.¡± The blob of plasma did its thing, reversing to form script she could read. Neex lifted a hand to form her response and flipped it back to him in English. ¡°See, I expected soul pain, somehow. It¡¯s soul pain, right?¡± Neex squinted at his text, puzzling over it. ¡°Uh, no. Don¡¯t think so. It¡¯s just weird, I guess. Different. Alien.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± No pain. Well, I guess I already know my price for this. What¡¯s that trilogy of curses? ¡®May you live in interesting times. May you come to the attention of those in authority. May the gods give you everything you ask for.¡¯ Yeah. This is all three. Frag me. Time to buckle up ¡ª with a racing harness, no less. I doubt there¡¯s an ejection seat. Maybe one without a parachute. Ha. ¡°Isn¡¯t it listening right now, though? Big Q.¡± Neex¡¯s head cocked and she squinted at the translation. Allotment. There¡¯s that word again. I look forward to understanding what the hell that means, but I¡¯ll get off-track to ask. ¡°Okay, backing up ¡ª transformative, you said. Am I¡­ I¡¯m still going to look the same after and all?¡± Neex¡¯s pupils went squiggly. Jack nodded slowly, digesting those nuggets of information eagerly, though he certainly felt some trepidation about his ¡®soul stuff¡¯ being fragged around with. Consciousness. Psyche. Get it right, Jack. ¡°So, the sort of thing that happens to every Champion of Humanity, then? Bodily, anyway.¡± ¡°Naturally.¡± Access to the System, in some way. Right? The idea left him in awe. It was almost sacred. Holy. It would¡¯ve been if he had changed in his youth, certainly. Not quite, anymore. And Neex was very clinical about it. Neex seemed to mimic Jack¡¯s throat-clearing of earlier. ¡°Jack ready?¡± ¡°Jack was born ready! Let¡¯s do this, Neex.¡± She grinned and nodded. She whistled once, and the vibrational aura of the air subtly changed. Then she held the shell-like Heart out between them with two hands, its innards softly pulsing. Her hold was top and bottom, with the exposed portion directly downward in a hand and the top holding the shell. ¡°Hands over Neex hands.¡± Jack took a deep breath and obliged. His hands engulfed hers top and bottom. When his fingers touched the shell, he felt the presence in the room slowly focus on him. The air got heavier around him. Charged. Neex smiled at him and nodded encouragingly, her pupils going big and nearly round, ringed by a faux-human iris. Her head tentacles wriggled at him. He was sure it was supportive, too. ¡°Okay. Take bottom.¡± With lightning quickness, Neex slipped her hand out from underneath his on the bottom and reversed the hold, so that she was putting pressure over the top of his hand. When his hand closed over the pulsing faux flesh, smooth and hard yet very alive, the presence seemed to become truly aware of him ¡ª recognized him and did something that was a greeting. A movement, a feeling, but nothing tangible. ¡°Hi,¡± Jack managed. Maybe. It might¡¯ve come out unintelligible. Whiskers or tendrils extended from a great distance gently brushed, then held there placidly. It felt to Jack like they were there to comfort him. Prepare. He fought off a shiver. He felt cold. Engulfed. ¡°Ready, Jack?¡± Neex asked. Jack just swallowed and nodded. Neex returned the nod and closed her eyes. ¡°Dauda no¡¯ah. Quallakuloth, Neex, Jack¡­ begin.¡± She made a musical, harmonic call from slightly parted lips, and the Heart echoed it strongly. It ensnared Jack immediately and he was mesmerized, all other thoughts within him blotting out. The tendrils brushing him smoothly wrapped around and through him like a thousand fibrous threads ¡ª the embrace of an Archon somewhere unfathomably distant and deep. ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? He gradually became aware that he was in a black void. A cold, thick liquid pressed from all around him. It flowed through him, too, soothing away the heat of pain and stress. That place slayed such things, as they were needless. Disruptive. He could not see the symmetry ¡ª it was not a place for eyes. He could feel it, though. A perfect construct, smooth and curved, cascading into infinity. Spiral in, spiral out, it was all the same, everything held in balance. Like Nature¡¯s cycle. That was extended to reality. In their tiny pocket, something nonetheless more massive than him was extended toward him from deeper within the latticework. Tendrils wrapped him, feelers brushed him without and within. Information. Diagnosis. A part of him he couldn¡¯t even feel unless it was touched was being touched. It was warped and damaged ¡ª horrifyingly so, like ephemeral tendons twisted into a vast, bruised, and blackened web of knots and frayed ends. ¡®Corrupt¡¯ was right ¡ª like cancer or gangrene. In that place, if vibration were a taste, it would be foul and spoiled. Most of it was separated from him, or like a tool, a specialty arm attached to him ¡ª a prosthetic. Broken, but not directly diseasing ¡®him¡¯ specifically. Some parts, however, were twisted and contorted into such terrible pressure that damage ¡ª cancer ¡ª occurred in his flesh. By tiny, tiny vectors, corruption seeped in. Somehow, the entity embracing him translated what it was as his own sudden knowledge: cellular errors, slow and insidious. Unscripted DNA change and ensuing malfunction of cells. It was as if he was exposed to dimensional toxins leaching in from the catastrophic trauma he was otherwise oblivious to. ¡°What could do this?¡± was his thought. He felt the lightest brush through his mind induce answers ¡ª formed out of his own thoughts. An accident. Memoria tried and failed in my adolescence. She pulled away in a fraction of a second ¡ª the instant she knew the damage was dealt ¡ª and this was the fallout. I dreamt of her touch. Fire in my head. She fled. I felt her ritual disappointment, like ashes from crushed coal when she hoped for a diamond. I felt the callus grown over her millionfold grief. Necessary numbness. On to the next, on to the next¡­ Jack was stunned. ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡± Again the brush came, this time touching different spaces, and imagery flashed hot through his mind. I do. He was a boy of twelve, in his bed asleep, when a piercing headache woke him up with a start. Hot. Someone was there? Momma? She was gone in a flash, she was unhappy. Cold. Disappointed? Did he do something wrong? But Momma wasn¡¯t there. Wasn¡¯t she¡­? And he had a headache. Wait, who was there? Did he have a fever? Stolen story; please report. But it was fading quickly. He shivered. He was sleepy. It was just a dream, that¡¯s what Momma would say. Whore. Shut up! I don¡¯t need you. He pulled the covers over himself in agitation and went back to sleep, forgetting it all by morning. But his uncle was complaining that he had to be taken to the doctor for extensive tests due to some ¡®potential exposure event¡¯ years ago. Jack was clueless what it was about. Holy hell! It did happen. And instead of superpowers, I got cancer? No. It can¡¯t be. Accidental, it said. But Memoria risks it, risks us. An arranged doctor¡¯s visit? Is that arranged for everyone? Frag us all¡­ He formed more questions. ¡°What is my damage? How bad? Does it happen to everyone?¡± Varies. Degeneration of cellular function is a given, but minute for a decade or more, no worse than minor radiation exposure. But it compounds with time. The end result can be treated and mitigated but the source cannot be removed by Memoria. If she tried, she¡¯d only exacerbate. Lifespan is reduced and non-optimal. Mine is quite extensive. 45 to 55 years of age, illness and death from brain tumors likely. Possibly earlier. ¡®Mine¡¯ was awkward. ¡®His¡¯ thoughts, he had to remember. The personal bad news was no fun, but the rest was worse. Everyone would live longer, otherwise? Less cancer? More secrets. They never end. Damn you. I must trust that it is necessary. Champions must be born; Champions must be raised. Memoria acts for the best interests of Homo Sapien. Species survival. All Archons conduct themselves principally for the sake of the organism they serve. ¡°I try to trust. Believe me, I try. Why is it like this? The damage. Can you help?¡± It is desirable to facilitate repair. Perhaps more will be possible. The matter at hand should proceed. Energy is finite. Potential is high. Do I desire full adaptation, if feasible? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± A pragmatist¡¯s benefits. Improvements. Internal, clandestine. Exhaustive. Proceed? ¡°Uhhh¡­ yes. Proceed.¡± The tendrils immediately tightened around the damaged, knotted structure and tore it out in every direction at once. The movement itself was a tangle of incredibly complex action that was a blur to Jack¡¯s senses. But he was somehow aware that there was never any actual separation ¡ª instead, the prosthetic was bent at bizarre angles that undid the knots and relieved pressure. A million points of adjustment twisting around to unravel a vast, chaotic puzzle. From the surgery¡¯s great, sudden violence and sheer scope, there was a very momentary blacking out as everything went blurry. When his senses returned, the tendons of his connection to the latticework were stretched and held to frames as if anchored. It was a web as deep as a sea. Numerous exposed parts were frayed, uneven, or loose ¡ª tendrils touched these to solder, straighten, and tighten. On and on it went as the entity repaired the grand construct before it. Eventually, the actions slowed more and more, and those whip motions died down. Finally, they stopped. It had become perfect. Jack could only ¡®stare¡¯ in awe. There was stillness ¡ª soothing cold where only burning was before. He had become like the rest of reality around him. ¡°Symmetrized.¡± Yes. My surgery was successful. A million pinched points suddenly released in perfect synchronicity, and the structure collapsed in on itself, an implosion of uncountable wrapping, folding, and twisting strands locking into a new macroscopic form. He blacked out again. His senses returned with a flash. Energy was surging into him, so intense he felt like he¡¯d explode. The prosthetic connections were pristine and felt something like a new phantom hand branching out of his brain. Moreover, they were coated in something gel-like, yet hard. As hard as the reality he saw. The seal. Unbreakable. New, nerve-like lines were spearing into him and branching, and the entity was not the source. It was something different. From the greater structure of reality, from some hidden space far beyond the Deep where they resided, they bridged through the spiral into jagged angles of startling new definition. He was being changed. Remade. All according to the details Quallakuloth had repaired. Automatic protocols. She can¡¯t see me, but this is from Memoria. It¡¯s Memoria¡¯s touch! All the hurt, resentment, and suspicion in the world couldn¡¯t stop the excitement underneath. The desire to understand, to know. To be ¡®in.¡¯ To¡­ I must remember principally, this is mine. My Allotment. My Archon facilitates as a medium by need but I am the vessel of my universe, my planet, my species. I am matter, I am its master ¡ª it answers to me. I am Time¡¯s Arrow made to carve out the future. I am the supernova, I am the crashing meteor, I am the compression and contortion of many forces made into the hammer of violence. I endure, I build, I destroy. I am homo sapien. Jack was shocked by the thoughts injected. ¡°Wait, where does this come fr-¡± With one final heartbeat pulse, he was cast out of the void, spiraling back to consciousness. ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? In the fog of semi-consciousness, strange glowing text slammed itself into his brain, absorbing much faster and sticking much easier than it should have despite the volume, like re-written memory. Still, it was a ridiculous barrage of information.
Congratulations, soldier! Jack Laker, you have been chosen as one of Memoria¡¯s own as a powers-capable agent serving your species with pride and honor. You will become an Agent Nonpareil, the best of the best, safeguarding the greater good. I hope you¡¯re as excited as I am, youngster! But first, you¡¯ll have to arrange for your guardian or a friend to escort you off of Platform Eden into New Babylonian airspace. You can report directly to AMMA (Antarctican Memorial Military Academy) as that is where you¡¯ll be processed and your education diverted. Welcome to a brand new family! Note that this is an automated message. I can¡¯t properly interface with you while on Platform Eden. While I¡¯d prefer you to report immediately, technically your government allows up to a month before you and your guardian are in legal violation. If you prefer to spend some final days or weeks there, it is your prerogative. In that case, please notify us at Central Processing of your plans through the official channels on Eden, so we know when to expect you. On to the good stuff! But take note everything discussed from here is top secret! This is classified information. You got that, soldier? Good! You now have some irrevocable benefits already through a provisional agreement (fully legally allowed by your government) considered ¡®Level 0 Access.¡¯ Your SSR, or Super Sapien Resilience, is generally regarded as the most significant. Basic but permanent and persistent. This gives you raw blunt force resistance, what we code as ¡®Toughness,¡¯ and general endurance against hazards or physical degeneration, what we code as ¡®Hardiness.¡¯ This includes aging, which is slowed and mitigated. To summarize Grade 1 Toughness, a haymaker from a strong, male adult human will cause you no serious harm. You¡¯ll feel a sting and be moved, but the damaging impact force is distributed. Anyone present might feel a tingle of vibration in the air, or might not. That¡¯s all. Greater Grades of injury can break through this but can be mitigated. It will not save you from a bullet to the brain or an exploding ordinance at your feet. Keep that in mind, soldier! Just like in school, most System operations are given numerical grades or understandable breakdowns. They are fairly reliable, subject to proper human agent utilization which can swing the end results up or down. It facilitates understanding your ballpark capabilities and limitations quickly, as compared with the physical world and your enemies. Understanding it will become second nature. Take note that Access itself, even at Level 0, provides an enhanced interface with reality. It does not by default provide extremes equivalent to a Grade 1, but all physical action, and some brain function, is improved. This is trickier to assess without testing and always a bit fluid depending on the person, but Level 0 is usually 5-12% of a performance upgrade. You¡¯re such a champ, Jack! I know you¡¯ll leverage this effectively, for me and for your species. I¡¯m counting on you. You can review traits at your leisure. The rest are my global benefits, some of which depend on territorial range zones. Note that some things apply to all homo sapiens, and, in fact, have historically as I unlocked them, but humans didn¡¯t know about the under-the-hood details. They¡¯re essentially external collective influences rather than personal. I¡¯ve included a ¡®Mini-Mem¡¯ subroutine in the agreement as well. Think of it like a computer AI in your brain. Not much more sophisticated than what you¡¯re used to, but quicker and more convenient. No, it can¡¯t be hacked. Everyone asks that! At least, if it is being hacked, we¡¯ve all got much larger problems than your brain computer malfunctioning. You may or may not have heard rumors about ¡®roles¡¯ or ¡®classes.¡¯ Yes, they exist, and yes you will have a choice between three powersets. However, this requires a second ping from me, so you don¡¯t have access yet. Complete and total freedom of access requires¡­ Can you guess? Paperwork! So report and get it over with already! The fun stuff awaits. Like POWERS!!! This concludes your summary briefing. I reiterate that all System information is classified. Don¡¯t reveal secrets to others I didn¡¯t tell you to unless you want to get both them and yourself in serious, serious trouble. On to your mission, bright young soldier! Do as instructed and you¡¯ll attain your class and Level 1 Access before you can shake a stick! I look forward to working with you, Jack. Good luck and¡­ May Humanity Prevail! ¡ª Memoria
What the hell? Jack was blinking through it all trying to process it, up at a bathroom ceiling with dripping moisture. He was lying on his back in a thin puddle of water. The air was dry and the light was bright. He felt¡­ different. Like he was poised ¡®behind¡¯ something, like he had on a new flesh, with new muscles underneath that he didn¡¯t know how to flex, or they were missing tendons. They were ¡®loose.¡¯ Weak. It¡¯s like a new network, a new body system threaded through. Between. Above. He shot his hand in front of his face, anxious about changes. But it was just his hand. Oh! A normal forearm attached. There was an odd feeling of knowing he was weak, yet his energy and movement were uninhibited. In fact, he was charged, awake, and aware. Crisper than ever! It was more like a warning than anything. He was hungry. So, so hungry. And he had a strange taste in his mouth, for something he couldn¡¯t define, something he never knew he needed. Should¡¯ve eaten, just like Neex- Wait! The air! ¡°Neex!¡± Jack shot up, eyes flitting around quickly ¡ª but she was right there. In more ways than one, actually. ¡°Neex here, Jack,¡± she said, knelt right next to him. She smiled shyly and gave a thumbs up, and her head tentacles raised, trying to mimic it. She seemed drained but well. Her other arm was cradling the Heart. It looked quite dead, with no pulse or sense of life to it. ¡°Success.¡± Somewhat dumbly, he returned the gesture, as his brain flashed with mem-text again.
Anomalous permanent benefits are being applied through ¡®Neex.¡¯ The source is not well understood; it is causing no direct harm but appears to be draining 23-24% (fluctuating) of your preliminary Allotment. This percentage may be reduced with higher Level Access if it is a flat value. Utilizing your Allotment is locked at this time, so the drain remains irrelevant in that sense. As a limited interface, I am not capable of deducing the suitability or logic of this arrangement, nor can I remove it. It seems you engaged in it voluntarily. Please report to Central Processing, a connected Memoria Daughter entity, or Memoria herself if possible, to assess this issue properly.
Jack took note, but he was also somewhat annoyed. ¡°Yeesh! You can¡¯t assess that I wouldn¡¯t have an interface without her? We wouldn¡¯t even be conversing right now!¡± The voice of Alice answered in his head this time. ¡°That is an impossible fantasy. If you believe this, you are under some sort of hallucinatory effect and doubly should report it to a higher authority. I cannot stress this enough. Please report immediately!¡± ¡°That would make you a hallucination, too. I¡¯m twenty-five! We don¡¯t get powers that late. This is weird shit every which way. Also, why are you using Alice¡¯s voice?! Stop that.¡± ¡°It seemed logical. As you wish.¡± The voice shifted slightly to a different, unique, yet very ¡®AI¡¯ type voice, that could¡¯ve been Alice¡¯s peppier sister. ¡°You¡¯re correct about the situation being anomalous. I won¡¯t bore you with saying ¡®I¡¯m not a hallucination.¡¯ That¡¯s what a hallucination would say. Please report, Jack? Pretty please with sugar on top?¡± Jack just shook his head. ¡°Later. You¡¯re dismissed!¡± Chapter 7: One Star From Me Chapter 7: One Star From Me ¡°Memoria?¡± Neex asked anxiously and hopefully at once. Her head tentacles whipped around. ¡°Okay?¡± Jack snorted. ¡°Not hardly. Some lesser system processor. AI.¡± As Neex just nodded slowly, he studied her. He was indeed aware of her in some way through the network ¡ª connected but external. It bridged ¡®up¡¯ and back in a kind of warped arc. Moreover, she was ¡®pulling¡¯ from him, bending what was his greater construct in her direction. He glanced at the bathroom floor, coated in water. Ah, shit! My uncle won¡¯t be too happy. Just as he was wondering how to get back to conversing with Neex intellectually without the Heart trick, he felt a kind of nudge along the axis of the construct, and a ¡®tug¡¯ on his mind, specifically. ¡°Neex is trying to converse directly through interfaces. Methodology preferences? Mem-text? Voice translation? We call that a Mem-link.¡± ¡°Voice for now. Mem-text is quickest, isn¡¯t it?¡± On a dime, Mini-Mem switched to text. ¡°Hey! I don¡¯t hate you.¡± ¡°It warms my heart to hear it, Jack!¡± He narrowed his eyes. He was being subtly played, right? The AI was slowly changing and forming a personality to manipulate him. Get in his graces one way or another. ¡°I¡¯m not falling for it, Mini-Mem.¡± ¡°Falling for what? Me? Oh, good. Things get complicated for AI when that happens. And call me Mini.¡± ¡°You are incredibly dismissed, Mini.¡± I wonder if Memoria is like this? Not likely. She probably has her own persona. He had mixed feelings about that eventuality, but curiosity still burned brightest for the idea of meeting one¡¯s ¡®maker,¡¯ more or less. Neex was ¡®patched through¡¯ and her voice popped into his head. ¡°Sorry about the water! It fell from the air after. Some. Too much? It¡¯s not okay, is it? Like this? I can¡¯t move it like before without the Heart because it¡¯s a method of lent control. Your Allotment sustains me but that is pretty much it. And sorry about that, too! Hopefully, it will be tiny and irrelevant when you come into your full power.¡± Her skin turned a bit whiter. Jack chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s alright. I wouldn¡¯t have it at all, otherwise.¡± He glanced at the wet floor. ¡°As for this, no, it¡¯s not normal. It¡¯ll cause serious water damage if it sits. This is my uncle¡¯s place, by the way.¡± Neex¡¯s eyes went wide and her skin as white as her shirt. ¡°Oh no ¡ª disrespect! I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯ll fix it immediately!¡± She then dropped her face on the floor and began sucking up the water with her mouth and head tentacles splayed out. Jack cringed at that and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. ¡°Hey! Stop! No!¡± He shook his head emphatically. Neex rose back up onto her knees in confusion, her pupils doing a swirl. Unceremoniously, she spat out a gout of water onto the floor, and her head tentacles spat some more. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? I can manage it relatively efficiently this way. Wait, is this a faux pas? Taboo?¡± Jack winced and made a ¡®kinda¡¯ motion. ¡°The floor might be gross. Unsanitary? Besides, we have bigger things to worry about! Don¡¯t we need to-¡± Neex¡¯s hand shot out to grab Jack¡¯s arm. Her facial expression was insistent and her pupils were like fat ¡®V¡¯s. ¡°Please, Jack. Fix. Please.¡± Jack sighed and glanced around. Well, it was pretty bad, and would be worse the longer it remained. ¡°Are you sure we have time for¡­?¡± Neex nodded emphatically, one eye on him, and one spinning around scanning the water anxiously. Her skin was bristly somehow, which probably meant she was holding back from jumping into action. I guess she really can¡¯t stand leaving an offense. A ¡®disrespect.¡¯ My uncle did take her under his roof, after all. Jack had to relent. He nodded assuringly. ¡°Let me find a mop or hopefully two. Stay here, okay?¡± A relieved Neex nodded and averted her eyes, pursing her lips as she looked at the floor. He was pretty sure she wanted to start sucking it up immediately, but there was no way he could let her do that. Not a bathroom! It wasn¡¯t exactly spotless when we came in. Jack rose and exited. The bedroom¡¯s hardwood floor had water, too, seeping from underneath the door, and a rug was soaked. ¡°Frag me,¡± he muttered and went in search of a mop. A couple of mops, a mop bucket, and a crapton of towels were pressed into quick service to laboriously start the process of drying the floors, Jack focusing on the bedroom with Neex in the bathroom. She could squeeze out water from a mop with her tail with extreme effectiveness, so he had the bucket. Mopping a floor ¡ª the true sign of becoming a super agent! A thought that amused him, but he did find himself full of energy and tireless to the task, even ¡®peppy,¡¯ he realized. That was a far cry from his usual motivation in regards to such physical labor, which could be summed up with ¡®hrrrngh, let¡¯s not.¡¯ While he engaged in such mundane activity, he decided to ¡®glance¡¯ at some of those ¡®other¡¯ traits Mem¡¯s letter mentioned, other than Toughness and Hardiness.
Builders of Great Things (Frontier): All ostensibly permanent homo sapien construction, device work, or manufacturing with normal materials considered to be of their homeworld has the material strength reinforced by 30%, or 50% for metal. This persists if transported elsewhere after construction, but construction must take place within homo sapien territory.
Hmm. I can see how we¡¯d take that for granted. I guess that makes us more specialized in defense? Weird to think about something supernaturally reinforced with hardcoded values, but I guess war is a numbers game.
Cooperative Solutions (Outer): Any project with five or more homo sapiens working together for at least four hours will always have at least one ''boon'' occur, either increasing productivity, saving material costs, or someone gaining a special insight ''from the ether.'' More boons can occur with each doubling of time if a project is adequately staffed. This is generally mysterious in occurrence, and it is no simple matter to discern special insights from random bad ideas, but an executed special insight is always very rewarding.
Jack, squeezing out mopped-up water via the bucket¡¯s built-in wringer, frowned and puzzled over the trait. The Five Grunts rule, repeated in every industry? Holy Rolling Hell, this is entirely why, isn¡¯t it? The four and eight-hour ¡®work markers,¡¯ too. Ideas from the ether. Yep. ¡®Brainstorm¡¯ on the task debriefing list. ¡®No stupid ideas,¡¯ anonymous ideas box, blah, blah, blah. Shit. This is surreal. His cleaning and contemplation session was interrupted by the sounds of multiple men entering the house. Jack dropped what he was doing and rushed out of the bedroom door, closing it behind him. To Neex, he sent a Mem-text. Neex replied immediately. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. His uncle and three other men ¡ª including Mick ¡ª were inside, very smudged up, dirty, and grease-stained from obvious mechanical work. His uncle was coming down the hallway that would lead to the guest room, pausing just before and turning back to call, ¡°Don¡¯t track your shit into my living room! Stay in the damned kitchen!¡± Indeed, the other three were in the kitchen, popping the tops off of beers from the fridge. They broke from interrupted conversation to nod soberly in answer to the call, though their eyes said ¡®Sure, whatever, you giant asshole.¡¯ Damn. I missed my date with the fridge and now she flirts with everyone. His uncle was just turning back when Jack was right in front of him, causing the older gentleman to jump out of his skin. ¡°Shit and piss on a cracker, Jack,¡± he exclaimed with a rag-carrying hand on his heart, ¡°you scared the shit outta me!¡± Jack painted an apologetic smile on his face. ¡°Sorry. She¡¯s fine! Resting. Sleeping. She spoke a little, drank a little. Needs rest. Needs sleep.¡± His uncle nodded slowly, studying Jack with his eyes a bit squinted. ¡°Needs sleep,¡± he repeated. ¡°Yeah. A lot of sleep. She¡¯s exhausted.¡± ¡°Sleep¡¯s all, huh? You sure?¡± ¡°I mean, she seems okay, otherwise.¡± His uncle ran his tongue around in his mouth as he continued peering at Jack, obviously suspicious. ¡°You look tired too. Sort of. Tired but carrying yourself¡­ different-like. Like you¡¯re a brand-new Jack. You two didn¡¯t, ah¡­¡± He trailed off, eyebrows raising suggestively. ¡°What?! Wha- no! Are you frag-¡± Jack cut himself off with a brief, hysterical bark, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he stifled some insults on his uncle¡¯s character. Finally, he gave him a dead-even look. ¡°No. No, Uncle. We have bigger things to worry about. She took a nice bath, though. Privately. It was therapeutic. Did wonders.¡± Frag me, I was in there when she was taking a bath. From a certain point of view. Whatever. Her life was on the line. ¡°Is that right? Well, ain¡¯t that grand?¡± His uncle leaned sideways to look past Jack, but there was a turn before the room, so it was useless. ¡°Mind if I check in myself? A quiet check.¡± He put his finger to his lips with no small amount of sarcasm. ¡°Quiet as a mouse in my own house, I promise.¡± Jack shrugged with cultivated nonchalance. No way he won¡¯t see the dampness of the whole fraggin'' floor. ¡°If you insist. But look, we¡¯ll get out of your hair soon, Uncle. We¡¯re figuring things out, but it¡¯ll be on the up and up, I promise.¡± ¡°Oh, you do, do you? Huh. Okay. Up and up.¡± He scoffed and shook his head, then made a subtle, impatient gesture at the hallway. ¡°Well? Gonna let me pass, Sport?¡± Jack was frowning and stepping to the side to let him pass when the crack of a gunshot resounded. They both jumped and looked at each other with wide eyes. In the next moment, they were hurrying to the entrance, in a slight crouch, ready to hit the deck. There was indistinct yelling, but there were thankfully no more shots. His uncle made it to a window first, quickly cursing and moving to the door. Mick was next to look out of a window and curse. As his uncle was bolting the locks of the heavy door, Jack looked out a window to see two heavy-duty levitrucks near the first of the cornfield patches, casting wide spotlights on the house in the relative dark of twilight. Men seemed to be behind this as cover, with rifles trained or poking upward. After a static whine, a rough, modulated voice crackled on the radio, heard from multiple receivers in the room. ¡°Breaker, Breaker, One-Nine,¡± came the voice of Tanner. ¡°Or whatever channel this is. I just always wanted to say that.¡± Shit! Tanner. It¡¯s them. The people that kidnapped Neex. Neex popped into his head. ¡°Jack, something is wrong, isn¡¯t it? The noise was loud. And my intuition-¡± Jack tried to make his mental voice reassuring. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it, don¡¯t worry. Stay in there. Lock the door.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Someone else not present answered on the radio, ¡°It¡¯s channel thirty-three here. But there¡¯s nasty interference. Who is this?¡± Meanwhile, his uncle was unlocking his vault and saying in a fierce whisper, ¡°Mick, you idiot, get on the horn and tell everyone we¡¯re being stuck up!¡± One of the other men said, ¡°My cellphone ain¡¯t working!¡± Tanner answered on the radio. ¡°Sorry about any interference. Just keeping this private, you know? Just between us. And really, it doesn¡¯t need to go much further than this. We¡¯re here for Jack. Or, more specifically, what he stole from us. Send it out, and we¡¯ll just mosey on out of here and out of your hair. I¡¯m gonna need a very quick response, by the way.¡± Mick was right on his heels on the radio. ¡°He¡¯s sticking us up, everyone! Mobilize!¡± While the conversation was going on, his uncle was handing out magazine-fed .308 rifles and extra magazines with a red dot on them. Jack knew what that meant: armor-piercers. He took up arms like the rest ¡ª except for Mick. He was given a larger rifle with a scope on it, which he immediately took upstairs. Jack knew exactly where he was going. He¡¯d been to that little armored alcove in the ¡®attic.¡¯ It was basically a sniper¡¯s nest. In years past, his uncle might¡¯ve been the one to go. Mick had to be a crack shot to be the replacement. There were also three ballistic vests. His uncle offered Jack one, but he declined, nodding his head to the others. According to Mem, I¡¯ve got a better chance than they would without one. And I got them into this. Tanner continued, ¡°See, I wouldn¡¯t do that. Got thirty men here, all surrounding you. Snipers. Checkmate, haystuffers! Just give us what we want. Not your valuables. Keep ¡®em. Jack knows exactly what we¡¯re here for. He¡¯s your savior. A terrible cabbyman ¡ª one star from me, by the way ¡ª but I know he¡¯ll do what¡¯s right by you all.¡± ¡°He¡¯s lying,¡± a man said as he crouched by a window. ¡°No way thirty foreigners got here unnoticed.¡± ¡°Probably,¡± his uncle said, grim-faced as he fitted his vest on while crouched. ¡°Our chances look slim whatever the case.¡± He glanced at Jack, then clicked his radio to speak. ¡°What was the first shot?¡± ¡°Oh, right,¡± Tanner exclaimed into the static, ¡°we have one of-¡­ a hostage. Yes. We didn¡¯t shoot him yet, just got him to stop yelling and running. Bring him! Forward, forward! Hurry up! Yeah¡­ Hey, what¡¯s your name, kid? ¡­ Texas. That¡¯s a cool name. Ha! How old are you? Twenty. So, yes, do you want us to kill Young Man Texas or will you send out our property?¡± The men were cursing and grimacing balefully at the revelation. Jack angrily popped onto the radio himself, ready to tell Tanner off about Neex being ¡®property.¡¯ But right before he spoke he released the click, wincing and thinking of the hostage. He clicked it again. ¡°Tanner, how about you show us how reasonable you can be by sending us the hostage, eh? Then maybe we can trust your word about this weird lady in a coma and our safety. You can help her, right? She ain¡¯t waking up. This was all a big, big mistake, wasn¡¯t it?¡± His uncle frowned and looked at him like he was mad, but Jack made a significant expression and shushed with a finger, and then it dawned on his uncle what he was doing. He nodded soberly. If they think we¡¯ll give her up, maybe they¡¯ll do this, and give the kid a chance with us. The other end was quiet for a moment with the feel of discussion. Then Tanner ¡ª quite annoyed ¡ª replied, ¡°Yes it was, Jack, and yes we can help her. Do you see why it¡¯s a bad idea to jump into things rashly without knowing a damn thing about what you¡¯re doing? Anyway, sure. We¡¯re reasonable. By the way, do you have the box as well?¡± ¡°I have the pretty paperweight that was inside it,¡± Jack replied, unsure if they would know whether he¡¯d opened it or not and were testing him. ¡°I don¡¯t care about that in the slightest. It¡¯s yours.¡± There was a long pause before the radio finally clicked. ¡°You¡¯re damn right it is. Okay. We¡¯re sending him.¡± ¡°How did you track us, Tanner?¡± ¡°We have a rule about revealing our methods, Jack. Nothing personal. And do you really even deserve it? Actually, I take it back. It is personal, you backstabber. I thought we bonded, I thought we were friends? Brothers.¡± Heavy, bitter sarcasm. ¡°Now look at everything you¡¯ve caused. You should suffer, Jack!¡± Jack shook his head and neglected to reply. Momentarily, a young man walked out from behind the vehicles, moving slowly and steadily, almost certainly because he was instructed to. Everyone waited tensely. This is good! Another gunman would be welco- Just over halfway across, a single gunshot went off, and Texas cried out and fell, hand clasped over his hip. Soon he was practically screaming. One man inside busted a window with a stock, getting ready to shoot, but Terrance called, ¡°Stop, stop, stop! Don¡¯t fire yet, damn it! They¡¯re holding! It¡¯s one rogue asshole out there! The kid¡¯s dead meat now! Hold!¡± He wants to stall. It was a vague thought, not dwelt upon long, as Jack was already at the door to unlock it ¡ª thankfully with his uncle distracted. He moved faster and more decisively than he ever had in his life, pumped with adrenaline yet balanced and focused by something else in his veins. By the time his uncle was exclaiming and protesting, Jack was already flying out the door for the wounded man, leaving his rifle behind for speed. As quick as he was, there was still no question he was seen, but gunfire did not break out. Shadows and silhouettes in the light seemed to be shifting in agitation where his enemies were ¡ª and obvious angry argument. Tanner. It¡¯s fraggin'' Tanner, it has to be, that piece of shit!
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