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 Library 1

    <u>Library Arc</u>

    The room looked as though it had been intended to store all the books of someone very overconfident in their ability to gauge shelf space. The walls were lined with mahogany shelves covered in all manner of books, but they had overflowed onto the floor in a knee-high morass more like a very dry swamp than anything else. Random objects were scattered among them, such as an old and stopped wooden analogue clock, a torn plushie penguin, and some sepia photos of racehorses. There were no windows; the ceiling had clusters of lights at regular intervals.

    A young man picked his way across, wincing at the damage he did to the books by stepping on them. He was tall, had dark brown hair, and wore a Linkin Park shirt over scruffy jeans. He needed a shave, but managed to look handsome even with a scruffy half-beard.

    The room had oak doors in three walls, and a bank of two elevators in the fourth. The knee-deep books gave a weird cadence to his footsteps; sometimes he stepped on a huge hardback with an echoing sound like a wooden floor, sometimes there were paperbacks underfoot that slipped and rustled against each other like dry leaves.

    He gave the elevators a baleful look and made for one of the doors. It opened outward, or rather it would have if there hadn¡¯t been a massive pile of books on the other side; he tried to force it anyway, until he slipped on a book underfoot and banged a knee into the door. Glad that there was nobody around to see that, he gave up and went on to the next door. This one opened inward, after he cleared out the books from in front, revealing another, larger room, full of even more books and junk. He sighed. He¡¯d been at it awhile already.

    On the left was a rectangular wooden box full of soil, with bright flowers growing in wild-looking clusters. There were lamps fixed to each corner, shining violet light on the flowers, and a little spigot quietly trickling water; the water had found a hole in the box to leak out, and the books underneath had been reduced to a soggy mess. Directly ahead was a brown ceramic mannequin of what was probably a young girl, judging by its frilly pink tutu, except the head and arms were missing. Around her neck was a cardboard sign marked in unreadable wavy script.

    He padded past both, wondering who had thought to put them there, and when. There were doors on all three walls; the two to the left and in front were blocked by the sea of books and the flower bed, but the one on his right was relatively clear. At its base was what looked like a smashed car battery in a pool of mush. Careful to stay clear of the pool, he reached over and opened the door inward; the liquid flowed out to the other side and began dissolving the books there too with a gentle hiss. He looked around, moved the mannequin over as a makeshift bridge, and crossed into the next room.

    The lights in this one were out, leaving the room much darker than the others. It was full of computer terminals; a blue glow from their monitors was the only light source. The darkness made the gentle hum of processors loud, almost ominous.

    He made his way over to a keyboard and hit a key at random, pulling up what had to be a login or password prompt with instructions in an alphabet he didn¡¯t recognise; he pressed buttons at random, hoping it would give him a guest account or language select, but it just flashed an unreadable message in red. He¡¯d seen this sort of thing before; he quickly gave up.

    From this room, there was a sliding door, which he hurried over to, gleeful to not have to clear out a huge pile of books for once. Once again, it opened to a rectangular room buried in books, but this time, two of the doors out were already cleared away. He picked the one on the left. It led into a third room much like the others, but this one had another person.

    She was the same age as him. She wore a shin-length black skirt and a long-sleeved charcoal shirt. It was impossible to move silently on the floor of books, so she¡¯d heard him enter and was regarding him with interest. They stared at one another for a long moment.

    She straightened her skirt. ¡°Hello,¡± she finally said.

    ¡°Hi.¡± He had a sudden bout of deja vu; he squinted at her, trying to figure out why. She had hazel eyes behind black-rimmed glasses; brown hair tied in a bun; pale skin, some freckles; shorter than him; and a quiet voice. ¡°Don¡¯t I know you from somewhere?¡±

    She gave a small smile. ¡°Who knows? I have a generic face. My name¡¯s Jill, by the way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Roger.¡± He would have moved to offer his hand, but they were a little too far apart and he had a brief mental image of one of them twisting an ankle, which would have made a poor first impression. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know the way to an exit, would you?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m lost too. I don¡¯t even know what this place is.¡±

    ¡°I just call it the Library.¡±

    ¡°It certainly fits.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to help me look for an exit?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°I actually quite like it here, but I was wandering around aimlessly already. Okay, I¡¯ll help, if I can. I think there was a map a few rooms back, on one of the computer terminals.¡±

    Roger grimaced. ¡°Those things? I¡¯ve found them before, but I can¡¯t read whatever language they¡¯re in.¡±

    She blinked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that; I can read them just fine.¡±

    ¡°You can?! That¡¯s great!¡± He smiled at last. ¡°Let¡¯s go, then. There¡¯s one right back there, actually.¡±

    They set off. She handled walking on the books much better than he did; the ones she stepped on never seemed to tilt and throw her off, which looked like sheer luck, but really she was probably just lighter or better at gauging which piles were more solid.

    ¡°So,¡± he said, ¡°if you didn¡¯t know where you were ¨C how did you get here?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Jill asked. ¡°I¡¯m one of those tourists who follows a road without reading the signs, in the hopes that eventually it¡¯ll lead somewhere eventually. I may have read too much Lewis Carroll when I was little.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    He gave her a questioning look.

    ¡°So, lots of books here,¡± she observed instead of answering his implicit question. ¡°I bet there¡¯s a story behind that?¡±

    ¡°If ever I find out why, I¡¯ll write a book about it,¡± Roger said, straight-faced.

    ¡°Leaving behind a fresh, even larger mystery for the next generation,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s thoughtful of you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a thoughtful guy. Here we are.¡±

    They took a few moments to let their eyes adjust to the glow of the computer monitors, then Jill approached the terminal.

    ¡°What language is this, anyway?¡± he asked, looking down at the keyboard. ¡°That isn¡¯t even a Latin alphabet.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure,¡± Jill admitted. ¡°I¡¯m sort of winging it. It¡¯s somewhere between Arabic script and Devanagari, but I¡¯m good enough with languages to make out most of it. You know how Scandinavians speak a few different languages, but they all understand each other because they¡¯re all descended from Icelandic? Except none of them understands Icelandic, ironically enough. Sorry, am I prattling?¡±

    ¡°You can prattle all you like if you can find a map,¡± he said.

    ¡°So single-minded. Still, I think I like that about you,¡± she said, focusing more on the computer than the conversation. ¡°Okay. It says it¡¯s a security port, and it¡¯s asking for a password. If the locals are as bad about cybersecurity as my parents are, it might be something obvious.¡± She hit a few keys, and the screen flashed red. ¡°But not as obvious as the password being password, apparently. Do you know anything that might be a password around here?¡±

    He did a palms-up, then, realising she couldn¡¯t see, ¡°The Library? That¡¯s just a nickname I¡¯ve been using, though.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Better not push our luck, then. I get a bad feeling about those drone guns.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±

    ¡°Look in the top corners of the room.¡±

    With the lights out, he hadn¡¯t noticed and couldn¡¯t think how she had, but in two opposite corners were security cameras with underslung gunmetal-grey cylinders. He froze.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t active,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen them around. Their circuits are live; someone¡¯s just programmed them to be dormant.¡±

    ¡°Just for the record,¡± he said, ¡°the next time you try to break into a password-protected security system, would you let me know in advance if there are guns trained on us?¡±

    ¡°Those two weren¡¯t going to shoot us,¡± she said, ¡°but I think they might if I try again. Something like, they let you make one or maybe two mistakes in case your finger slips, but after that ¡­¡±

    ¡°Humour me.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± She stepped away from the computer. ¡°Well, this room looks like a bust, but I passed another computer a while ago. It wouldn¡¯t have access to the security system, but I¡¯d think it¡¯d have a map.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s worth trying,¡± he said. ¡°Not like I have any other leads.¡± He considered how much to tell her, but she seemed trustworthy, or at least harmless. ¡°I¡¯m actually not alone in here,¡± he added. ¡°My sister¡¯s back a few rooms. She wanted to rest, but I wasn¡¯t tired, so I kept looking around. Should we fetch her now, or double back later?¡±

    ¡°Mm, double back, I think. I might not be able to find the terminal again anyway.¡±

    She led the way out of the room. She gave a second look at a menorah that might have been tarnished silver, lying on a lopsided mound of books. ¡°It¡¯s a shame we can¡¯t take some of these things with us.¡±

    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t stop you. But you might be carrying it awhile.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Have you seen anyone else here?¡±

    ¡°Only my sister.¡±

    ¡°Strange to build a place like this, and then just abandon it,¡± she mused. ¡°Apart from the building itself, all these books must have cost a fortune. And then there¡¯s the guns and other security, which the old owners could have taken with them when they left.¡±

    ¡°Say, can you read the books?¡± Roger asked. ¡°If they¡¯re in the same language as the computers ¡­¡±

    Jill knelt down and opened a tome roughly the same size as her torso. Over her shoulder, Roger recognised the same script as on the computer terminals. She flipped a few pages and shut the book again with a thump.

    ¡°It¡¯s a biography for someone called Alha Maurya. It¡¯s not very forthcoming about why he was important enough to deserve a biography; either he was actually very boring, or this is terribly written. Life¡¯s too short to figure out which.¡± She tried another, then a third. ¡°These are all biographies, and so were the ones I¡¯ve tried before I met you. I guess this is the biography section. This building must be massive if it has entire wings dedicated to a single Dewey number.¡±

    ¡°Worth a try,¡± he said again. ¡°How far is it to the terminal?¡±

    She smiled ruefully. ¡°I have a terrible sense of direction. If the route weren¡¯t the only one not choked up by books, I probably wouldn¡¯t be able to find it at all. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s too far, though.¡±

    They passed through more rooms piled high with books and random objects, following the trail of doorways she¡¯d cleared out when she first came through. Eventually, she led him up a spiral staircase, which he nearly fell off when a book flipped underfoot.

    ¡°You are sure it¡¯s around here?¡± Roger asked, rubbing his bruised leg.

    ¡°This is familiar. See that sign?¡± She pointed up to a plank of wood covered in what looked to him like random scorch marks. ¡°It says: Cutler¡¯s Wing 121B. I spent a little while wandering around here earlier. I think it¡¯s one of the doors off here. I¡¯m not sure which; let¡¯s trial and error it.¡±

    This room was full of stone pillars with live vines growing on them. Double-ended bookshelves like in normal library aisles variously stood or leaned against the pillars, strewn with yet more books. A set of scuba gear sat in a corner. On one wall was a bathroom, marked with the universal symbol of two people with one wearing a dress. Three more doorways had been cleared out.

    She went to the one on the left. It led to another room piled high with books, but this room was in bad shape: there was a jagged crack all through the centre of the floor, through its timber floorboards, opening up a dark hole, too deep to see its bottom.

    ¡°Right, the bottomless pit room,¡± she said. ¡°See that sign on the far end? Elevator engineering. I¡¯d like to see what I could do from there, even if it was just to deactivate the wretched things, but with the hole ¡­¡±

    Roger walked up to the hole to get a better look. It was five metres across at the narrowest point. There was some plaster visible in the space between the floors; below that he could see some of the oak panelling of the room below. There was a light directly overhead that penetrated a long way down, but not far enough to see the bottom. He nudged a book over the edge; the pages fluttered as it corkscrewed down.

    ¡°¡­ Three hundred elephant,¡± Jill counted quietly, ¡°four hundred elephant, five hundred elephant, six ¡­ The first time I was here, I didn¡¯t think too hard about climbing down.¡±

    He looked around for something he could maybe use as a bridge, and spotted another drone gun behind him to the right. Jill followed his gaze.

    ¡°I actually get the feeling that this place isn¡¯t really a library,¡± she said. ¡°This is an awful lot of security for vanity biographies. I think that either it used to be a library and then someone else took it over and made it into some sort of fortress, or it was always a fortress and books were added later, maybe as a sort of disguise. Besides, who would build something like that? It¡¯s been excavated a long way. Who puts a library atop a crevasse?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s excavated. How high up do you think we are?¡±

    ¡°,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d assumed we were at ground level. The air isn¡¯t thin ¡­ but I guess buildings aren¡¯t exactly hard to pressurise. Are we elevated?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who can read the maps. I have no idea how high we are now, but I¡¯m certain this building is at least ten storeys high.¡± He¡¯d gone up and down more stairways of different size than he could remember, so it was hard to be exact. It didn¡¯t help that he¡¯d never found any windows or anything else to give a point of reference.

    ¡°Well, that just doubles down on the question of who builds a ten-storey library slash fortress,¡± she said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s worry about that after we find a way out,¡± Roger said. ¡°Next room.¡±

 Library 2

    The second door opened into a vaulted room, remarkable for being the first place they¡¯d found that wasn¡¯t full of books. It looked like some sort of shrine, with a long marble altar in the middle. Instead of the ubiquitous electrical cluster lights throughout the rest of the Library, there were stone pedestals on which sat hundreds of smokeless candles, as well as photos and flowers in vases. The ceiling was covered by a stained glass picture of a wasp; the walls were covered with off-white tiles that formed patterned mosaics of white and grey.

    An ugly hunchbacked man with a monobrow wearing a green cassock stood by the altar, scowling. ¡°This isn¡¯t supposed to be here,¡± he growled.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Roger said as he approached. He looked around, taking in the jarring change of scenery.

    ¡°This room isn¡¯t supposed to exist,¡± the hunchback repeated.

    ¡°¡­ Because it¡¯s not full of books?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said the hunchback, and Roger couldn¡¯t tell whether or not he was being sarcastic.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Jill said fatuously, ¡°if you can have multi-faith worship rooms in an airport, the same in a library isn¡¯t too out of place.¡±

    The hunchback scowled at her, a nonverbal shut up.

    As they spoke, Roger wandered over to a pedestal for a better look at the photos. A chill went down his spine.

    ¡°Why are these here?¡± he said, very slowly and deliberately.

    ¡°I just said I don¡¯t know,¡± the hunchback repeated, annoyed.

    ¡°Not the room. These photos. Who put them here? Are they yours?¡±

    ¡°Remember the part about me not knowing?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s so special about them?¡± Jill asked Roger, walking over.

    ¡°These are all of my sister.¡±

    There wasn¡¯t much resemblance in a photo. She was shorter than him, partly because she was only fifteen, and had auburn hair she wore in a ponytail. She at least wore similar clothes, although her taste tended toward pink. The photos were mostly recent, but in a few she was just a toddler. She was doing all sorts of things: pushing a trolley in a supermarket, playing soccer, reading, eating cereal with milk, watching TV with two other kids whose faces weren¡¯t in focus, and there was even one ¨C to his immense disquiet ¨C of her dozing in a bath.

    ¡°Who else has been here?¡± he demanded of the hunchback.

    ¡°Whoever built it,¡± he said sourly. ¡°This room isn¡¯t part of the original design. I¡¯ve no idea who could have done that. With all the security, it should be impossible to expand the structure like this.¡±

    Roger considered the possibility that he was lying, but he seemed too angry, like one would be after a vandal threw a rotting animal carcass into one¡¯s front lawn. He also considered burning the photos, but on second thoughts, if whoever owned them came back, it¡¯d be best if they didn¡¯t know that anyone else had been there.

    ¡°Do you know about the Library?¡± Jill tried. ¡°My name¡¯s Jill, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Of course I know about it, but it¡¯s here that¡¯s important,¡± said the hunchback, ignoring the introduction. ¡°It won¡¯t help to talk about that.¡±

    ¡°Do you know who made it?¡± she asked. ¡°Or why?¡±

    He looked around balefully. ¡°How many times do I have to say I don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°I meant the Library.¡±

    ¡°The architect¡¯s around here somewhere,¡± he said, waving his hand vaguely, as though trying to give directions but too lazy to remember. ¡°She made it to have somewhere to play, although if you ask me she¡¯s letting it go to waste. Your lot don¡¯t know a good thing when you see it.¡±

    ¡°Well, mystery solved,¡± she said, deadpan. She glanced at Roger, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°Thoughts?¡±

    He let out a huff and straightened. ¡°If she has a stalker here, that¡¯s just one more reason to hurry up and find a way back home. Do you know the way out?¡± he asked the hunchback.

    ¡°There is no way out.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a way in,¡± he insisted. ¡°There must be a way out.¡±

    ¡°This is going nowhere,¡± said Jill.

    ¡°If you want to do something useful,¡± said the hunchback, ¡°there¡¯s an old lady wandering around somewhere. If you run into her, tell her to get over here. This could be a situation, and she¡¯s the expert on this sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± Roger promised, ¡°if I see her, but we don¡¯t know where we are, so if you could point us in the right direction ¡­¡±

    The hunchback gave a grunt of exasperation. ¡°There¡¯s someone who¡¯s been studying the history of this place long enough to know her lefts from her rights. She¡¯s set up camp in one of the vaults nearby. Go pester her; she seemed lonely enough that you wouldn¡¯t be annoying her.¡±

    ¡°Okay, thanks. Bye.¡± He and Jill turned and left. They made their way through the room with the pillars and vines and to the third door. ¡°Ugh.¡±

    ¡°Are you upset about the fact that your little sister apparently has a stalker, or the random cryptic hermit going out of his way to be unhelpful?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Both, although I specifically meant the photos. Would you mind if we ran back and fetched her now? I¡¯m starting to get worried about her.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to bring her here,¡± Jill said. ¡°He said that place was set up recently, meaning whoever did it is probably nearby, and if they come back ¡­¡±

    Roger sighed. ¡°I realised that while I was speaking. I just don¡¯t like it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be quick, then.¡±

    The third door led to a small square room. Like all the others except the altar room, it was covered with books; this room was noticeably warmer, courtesy of a large electric heater under a glass table. On the table was a sheepskin rug, on which a Siamese cat was curled up; when Jill instinctively detoured to pat it, it glared at her until she gave up and she and Roger passed through the slatted door opposite.

    The next room was full of desks with chairs like a high school classroom. The walls were covered with tapestries of what looked like boy bands, but with their names replaced by the unreadable script from before. Two vending machines stood in one corner. At the far end was a desktop on an ornate stone plinth. They made their way over, and Jill logged on.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Does this one need a password too?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°Nope. General access. The functionality is restricted, though. You know how normal libraries don¡¯t have any software except the catalogue, so that kids don¡¯t hog the computers to play games? Let me see ¡­ here¡¯s a list of software. Ooh, network access ¡­ offline, drat ¡­ but I can see what subsystems are still running. Air filtration, water, power, vending machine resupply, something I can¡¯t translate, reprints I think, fire suppression, silverfish control ¡­ security offline, self-diagnostics offline. Huh. And there¡¯s a recent announcements page that hasn¡¯t been updated in ¡­ eight hundred years.¡±

    He made a mental note of all that. ¡°A map?¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re just ignoring the eight hundred years thing?¡±

    ¡°Is that the weirdest thing you¡¯ve seen in even the past fifteen minutes?¡± he asked. ¡°I know it¡¯s very mysterious and all, but I just want to get back to my sister.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Fine. I suppose I¡¯ll come back after you leave, and poke around some more then. Anyway, this is it.¡± She opened a file, and a set of blueprints filled the screen, marked in squiggles. She began pointing places out to him. ¡°We¡¯re here; we came from here ¡­ which means we met way back somewhere around here, I think. The stalker shrine isn¡¯t marked, so I assume the hermit was telling the truth when he said that it¡¯s a recent addition. Either way, he said to get to the vaults, but ¨C true to form ¨C he didn¡¯t say which, and we didn¡¯t ask because we didn¡¯t know it was ambiguous. This lists five, in these locations.¡± She pointed them out. ¡°On top of that, this machine only has a map of the local area. There might be more vaults further away, but we¡¯d have to go there in person and find more terminals to find out.¡±

    ¡°What sort of moron makes a map that only shows places close enough that you could just walk there directly?¡±

    ¡°The same kind that made those elevators. Give me a minute to find the best route. Hey, can you get me something from the vending machines?¡±

    ¡°Er,¡± he said, not sure how to go about that but unwilling to refuse her. He walked over. They were marked with the Arabic/Indian writing, as best he could tell, so he couldn¡¯t read any of the packaging, but there were coloured drinks in glass bottles, what had to be chocolate bars in plastic wrappers, and something the size and shape of small cheeseburgers in completely cryptic honey-coloured paper. ¡°It needs money.¡±

    ¡°Whack it with a book,¡± she suggested.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like stealing,¡± he said.

    ¡°The owner hasn¡¯t been around for eight hundred years. No jury would convict.¡±

    He found the largest book in the room, a leather-bound tome almost as large as his chest, and brought it up, over, and down, into a vending machine. The machine crumpled under the impact; a siren honked, and it spat out a pile of goodies.

    ¡°Do you ever get that feeling,¡± he asked, ¡°like, how did my life get to this point?¡±

    ¡°Actually, I mostly just go with the flow. A good tourist always leads an interesting life.¡±

    He brought an armful of food over. ¡°How are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Whoever designed this place is an idiot,¡± she said. She swigged a bottle of blue liquid, then set it down and began panning around the map. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t already figured that one out. Rather than put all the vaults in a row, numbers one, two and four are all in a corridor not too far from here, and number three is just a little past that, adjoining what I might be mistranslating as the Folding Room, but number five is in the opposite direction from here. If the lonely historian is trying to hide, number five would be the logical place to look, but if she isn¡¯t, it¡¯d be smarter to check the four first.¡±

    ¡°If she¡¯s hiding, she can lock herself inside, and we¡¯ll have a dog of a time getting to her either way. Let¡¯s fetch my sister and go for the four.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± she nodded. ¡°Let me see. This says there¡¯s a printer available, but it¡¯s eight rooms away and on the other side of what I¡¯m pretty sure was the bottomless pit room, so I think I¡¯d better just sketch this.¡± She searched the floor for a pen, went through several that were empty before settling on a red one, and transcribed part of the map to the inside cover of a thin paperback. ¡°Shall we eat as we go?¡±

    The burgers turned out to actually be some sort of oat-like cakes that tasted of honey and nuts. Roger assumed they had to be healthy, and Jill didn¡¯t have the heart to translate the wrappers, which mentioned that they had 18 percent saturated fat. He insisted on finding a rubbish bin for the wrapping before they left.

    ¡°Stop laughing at me,¡± he said. ¡°I know there¡¯s nobody to care, but I always feel guilty if I leave litter lying around.¡±

    ¡°I normally do the same thing,¡± she admitted. They found a bin half-buried under the sea of books, left the room, crossed the antechamber with the cat, and then skidded to a stop. There was a group of people waiting for them, pointing guns at them.

    There were eight of them. Six wore black full-body ballistic armour and carried military-grade assault rifles and other weaponry, split into two fire teams of three. The other two were a man and a woman standing side by side. The man wore a yellow-grey tunic and had a beret on his head and a revolver on his hip, which would have made him look like a colonel, but he was young, toned, and muscular, which made him look like a high school track star. The woman was the only one who didn¡¯t look military: she wore a flattering red-and-black velvet dress cut low and tight to show off her curves, aesthetic rather than functional. Between that and her long blonde-brown hair tied in elaborate braids, she looked like she¡¯d dressed up for a formal party rather than an expedition.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hey, how¡¯s it going,¡± Roger replied, nervously eyeing the two gun muzzles pointed at him (two were trained on Jill, while the last two tracked around the room).

    ¡°Pretty good, pretty good,¡± she said with a catlike smile, clearly enjoying his discomfort. ¡°And yourself?¡±

    ¡°Oh, cruising. No complaints here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fantastic. By the way, I¡¯m Michelle. This is Aaron,¡± she said of the man next to her.

    ¡°Roger.¡±

    ¡°Jill.¡±

    ¡°Pleased to meet you. Say, could you help a girl out? My crew and I are little lost, and we couldn¡¯t help but overhear you saying something about a map earlier. You couldn¡¯t point us in the right direction, could you?¡±

    ¡°Uh, we can try,¡± said Roger. Couldn¡¯t help but overhear? If we didn¡¯t hear you, and there are eight of you tromping around in boots and carrying kit ¡­ ¡°We can¡¯t find the way out either, but if you want to go somewhere else, maybe ¡­¡±

    Michelle¡¯s smile became fixed. ¡°We¡¯re not looking for a somewhere, we¡¯re looking for a something.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Could you be a little more specific?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Jack?¡± said Michelle. ¡°A warning shot, please.¡±

    She and Aaron clapped their hands over their ears. Roger and Jill followed suit, but they were a moment too slow; one of the soldiers fired his rifle with a deafening crack, the bullet punching a fist-sized hole into the wall over their heads. Plaster dust drifted out and settled over the book bog. They jumped.

    ¡°Do you have any idea how long we¡¯ve been wandering in this stupid library?¡± Michelle said. ¡°I really don¡¯t have a lot of patience left.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good for you,¡± Roger growled, his ears ringing, ¡°but could you pretend for a moment that we weren¡¯t there when you heard about whatever it is that you¡¯re after?¡±

    She gave him an incredulous look. ¡°If you don¡¯t know about it, what are you even doing here?¡±

    ¡°I got lost, and she¡¯s weird.¡±

    Michelle looked at Jill for confirmation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not weird,¡± she said blandly. ¡°We are lost, though, or we were. If you¡¯re looking for some sort of treasure, it¡¯s not that sort of map ¨C we didn¡¯t get it from a retired pirate, you know ¨C but if you feel like telling us what it is, I might be able to make an educated guess. Unless you¡¯re afraid that we¡¯ll steal it out from under your and your private army¡¯s noses?¡±

    Michelle scowled, but she had a point. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a book.¡±

    Roger looked around. If he had to guess, he¡¯d say this one room held maybe a thousand books.

    ¡°Well, boy, have I got good news for you,¡± Jill said.

    ¡°The book that holds the secret of immortality,¡± Michelle clarified.

    Roger exchanged glances with Jill. This sounded too good to be true, and Michelle would quite likely shoot them as soon as she either found it or got fed up with searching. On the other hand, refusing to help her wasn¡¯t really an option. The real problem was his sister. He didn¡¯t like leaving her alone with a stalker and heaven only knew what else on the loose, but he couldn¡¯t very well mention her and let Michelle take her hostage. Hopefully she¡¯d have the sense to stay put and keep her head down, and he¡¯d manage to escape and double back to her later.

    ¡°We heard a rumour that there¡¯s someone who¡¯s been here awhile and knows what¡¯s what,¡± he said aloud. ¡°She might be able to give us a clue about where it is, or maybe she has it already. She¡¯s set up in a vault, and a vault seems like the sort of place to hide treasure.¡±

    Aaron looked to Michelle, who worried her lip, thinking it through. Eventually she nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good enough, for a start. May I see the map, please?¡±

    Jill, who still had the paperback in hand, tossed it to her. Michelle caught it and rifled through it, missing the map penned into the inside cover. Her frown deepened.

    ¡°The trick isn¡¯t finding a map so much as reading it,¡± Jill said. ¡°It seems I¡¯m the only one who can. May I have that back?¡±

    Michelle hesitated but threw it back. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not planning on doing anything stupid.¡±

    ¡°Oh, stop blustering. You¡¯re not going to shoot me.¡±

    ¡°Not fatally, no,¡± Michelle said.

    Jill rolled her eyes, exasperated rather than intimidated. ¡°Maybe we can find you something by Dale Carnegie, too. Come on.¡±

 Library 3

    They retraced their way through a few rooms, with one trio of soldiers in front and one behind. Presently they came to a doorway they hadn¡¯t been through before, blocked by a knee-high morass of books.

    ¡°If any of your redshirts feel like helping us clear the way ¡­¡± Jill said.

    ¡°Chuck?¡± Michelle said to one. He tried kicking in the door without success ¨C it was wedged between so many books that he¡¯d have to snap it in half, and it was thick oak ¨C then instead aimed his weapon, an automatic shotgun, and shot out the latch and hinges. From there, he just had to lean against it, and his weight levered enough books out of the way to make an opening. What had taken Roger long minutes was accomplished in seconds.

    They trooped into the next room, which was much larger than the previous one. It was double-storey and had a number of doors; overhead a catwalk was suspended by steel cables, but there were no obvious stairs or ladders or any other way to reach it. The walls were lined with suits of armour. Where a normal mansion might have had stone plinths, these were instead set atop piles of the largest books, some of which weren¡¯t perfectly level, making the armour somewhat lopsided.

    ¡°What¡¯s that insignia?¡± Jill asked, peering at one soldier¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Xpros?¡±

    ¡°Chipros,¡± Aaron said. ¡°Greek letter, cos it¡¯s cool. We¡¯re a private security outfit.¡±

    ¡°Specialising in retrievals,¡± Roger said. ¡°And not usually of books.¡±

    Aaron raised his eyebrows. ¡°You¡¯ve heard of us? Not an ex-member, are you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need money that badly,¡± Roger said acidly.

    ¡°Meaning, you were on the other side?¡± Aaron guessed. Roger said nothing. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s cool. We don¡¯t hold grudges; I only care about the job at hand. You don¡¯t get between me and that book, we don¡¯t have a problem.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± he said, thinking of his sister. ¡°Only worry about the book.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s your story, Milady?¡± Jill asked Michelle. ¡°Bored enough to go adventuring for a book that might not even be real, rich enough to hire a troop of mercenaries, persistent enough that you might actually manage it ¡­ you must be a princess?¡±

    ¡°Heiress,¡± Michelle corrected, looking surprised that Jill had guessed so well but trying not to admit it. ¡°What are you? You¡¯re awfully calm for someone who¡¯s just had a gun pointed at her head.¡±

    ¡°Just a sightseer. Truth be told, I¡¯ve had plenty of guns held on me before. Not that yours aren¡¯t impressive,¡± she assured her, ¡°I¡¯m just jaded.¡±

    ¡°How are you still alive, then, if you go around annoying people like my crew?¡±

    Jill shrugged. ¡°I have good instincts for not being quite annoying enough to be worth murdering. It¡¯s a delicate balancing act. Through here, please,¡± she added to Aaron, who motioned to Chuck again to shoot out the latch and hinges.

    They had a moment¡¯s impression of a huge, open room full of light and dark patches and obscuring interior walls, before there was a noise like a combination of a snake¡¯s hissing, a lion¡¯s roar, and a motorcycle¡¯s engine; the soldier leapt backwards and slipped and fell on his butt, and a massive flashing green-grey thing crashed into where he¡¯d just been standing, throwing splinters from the doorframe, then bounced off and around behind a wall, spraying bits of cover and paper in its wake. There was a strong smell of burning diesel.

    ¡°¡­ What the heck was that,¡± Michelle said.

    The soldiers exchanged glances.

    ¡°Am I crazy,¡± said Roger, ¡°or was that a komodo dragon riding a motorbike?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re crazy,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Komodo dragons don¡¯t ride motorbikes. They don¡¯t even have opposable thumbs.¡±

    ¡°Normally I¡¯d see your point,¡± he said, ¡°but I¡¯m pretty sure it had teeth, scales, and a tail. And look, there are skid marks on some of the books there.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a komodo dragon on a motorbike,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hey,¡± said one soldier, bending down to pick a piece of paper off the ground. ¡°I think this was stuck to the wall and fell off.¡±

    He held it out. It was a handwritten note: Warning ¨C gatorcar ahead ¨C do not enter! ¨C SW

    ¡°Gatorcar,¡± Michelle said, rubbing her temple.

    ¡°Well,¡± Roger said, ¡°that¡¯s pretty close to a ¨C¡±

    ¡°Would you kindly shut up about the komodo dragon and the stupid motorbike,¡± she said wearily. ¡°Aaron, can you kill it, whatever it is?¡±

    ¡°I guess. I mean, neither alligators nor cars are bulletproof,¡± he said, shrugging.

    ¡°Um, are you sure about this?¡± Roger asked. ¡°Because I¡¯m pretty sure some of these walls must be load-bearing, but I don¡¯t know which, so spraying high-powered ammunition at a very fast target maybe isn¡¯t the best idea?¡±

    ¡°Can we just go around, then?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°This isn¡¯t a video game; surely there¡¯s more than one way from point A to B.¡±

    Jill flipped through the book, forward and back, taking in the map as it flashed by twice. ¡°I can see two alternate routes that aren¡¯t too far out of our way. One goes via the elevators ¨C¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± everyone else shouted.

    ¡°¨C and while the other also involves changing floors, there are stairs that way, then a boiler room, then some more stairs. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all wondering why anyone would use a boiler room as a thoroughfare, but unfortunately I have no wisdom to share on that point.¡±

    ¡°No-one was wondering that,¡± Michelle said. Aaron nodded. ¡°Which way?¡±

    ¡°Through here.¡±

    She picked a door that opened up to what could have been a very nice ballroom if it weren¡¯t knee-deep in books. They were at the top of a grand staircase leading down to a wide space with dozens of outgoing doors. There was a crystal sculpture of a woman in a crinoline, and a golden chandelier hung from the ceiling. Jill double-checked the book, then made for a door out to one side. It led to a stairwell leading down four floors, bare concrete lit by fluorescent bar lamps, some flickering, and with only a few scattered books; overall, it felt more like an industrial fire escape than a part of the Library. Their footsteps echoed as they descended.

    ¡°This had better be worth it,¡± Michelle grumbled.

    ¡°If I had told you fifteen minutes ago that it wouldn¡¯t be, would you have left us alone?¡± Jill replied.

    ¡°.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The temperature steadily increased as they went. Finally they reached a fancy wooden door that looked bizarrely out of place at the bottom of the industrial chic stairwell. Jill walked forward, took the handle, then yelped and jumped backward, sucking her hand.

    ¡°Jill!¡± Roger cried, darting forward to catch her in case she slipped. The soldiers raised their weapons, uncertain what they were supposed to be aiming at. ¡°Are you alright? What happened?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± she said, holding her hand out to look. Her palm had a bright red line just below the fingers, where she¡¯d touched the handle. ¡°Just a burn. But that¡¯s not supposed to be possible. I don¡¯t understand.¡± She traced it wonderingly with the fingers of her other hand, like she¡¯d never seen anything like a burn before.

    Aaron pushed past them and rapped the door handle with the back of his hand. ¡°Yep, this is hot.¡±

    ¡°And touching hot things burns you,¡± Michelle said from a few steps up. ¡°I don¡¯t see what¡¯s so impossible about that.¡± Jill said nothing. ¡°Can¡¯t someone with gloves open it, then?¡± Michelle added.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Jill said, still staring at her hand, ¡°but why do you imagine it¡¯s burning hot, if not because the other side is and the metal handle¡¯s conducting the heat? And if this side is too hot to touch, how bad do you think the other side is?¡±

    ¡°What do you propose, then?¡±

    Jill licked the burn again. ¡°I¡¯m not going through there.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the guide.¡±

    ¡°The map doesn¡¯t mark down which rooms are or aren¡¯t on fire. I don¡¯t think any maps do that.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s on fire, where¡¯s the smoke?¡±

    ¡°On the other side, where all the fire is, I expect.¡±

    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Chuck, open the door.¡±

    ¡°If there is a fire there and you open the door,¡± Jill said, ¡°it¡¯ll flare out and roast us all, and suck the air out of our lungs and pump carbon monoxide in its place.¡±

    ¡°How do you know so much about fires?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°Um, physics?¡±

    ¡°Open it a crack, then,¡± Michelle said, rolling her eyes.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Roger said, hastily pulling Jill up to the next landing, ¡°just let us back up a bit ¡­ don¡¯t want us civilians getting in your way ¡­¡±

    Chuck nervously edged forward, placed one boot so as to block the door from opening more than a crack, set his black Kevlar glove on the door handle, twisted, and pulled it slightly ajar.

    There came a jet of silvery gas, and he shoved the door shut with his shoulder; everyone else jumped back in alarm, and Jill skidded on a book and crashed into Roger, who caught her and kept his own feet. The gas quickly dissipated, leaving the air in the stairwell warmer and moister.

    ¡°¡­ Steam,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Not smoke. Open it properly.¡±

    Chuck moved forward again and opened the door fully, letting another cloud of steam through until the air pressure equalised. There was a flight of wrought iron steps down into a room full of great cylindrical pistons and boilers, all of it flooded. Around the machines, small bubbles boiled up through the water. A grate on the ceiling constantly poured in fresh water.

    ¡°So, just to be sure, this is the boiler room you mentioned, right?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°Whoever built this place wanted a visual pun more than to not be completely retarded?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Yes they did.¡±

    Michelle bent down and splashed a finger against the water, then tossed a book in; it quickly dissolved into a mess of pulp and ink. ¡°There¡¯s no way to wade through this; we¡¯d be cooked alive. Is there some way to turn the boilers off, or a drainage system we can open to clear it out?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re seriously overestimating the detail in my map.¡±

    Michelle harrumphed. ¡°This, the gatorcar, or the elevators ¡­ gatorcar. Definitely the gatorcar.¡±

    They turned and climbed back upstairs.

    ¡°So I probably should have asked this earlier,¡± Roger said as they walked, ¡°kind of distracted, can¡¯t really think why ¡­ but do you happen to remember the way out of here?¡±

    Aaron snorted darkly. ¡°I swear this place changes around when you¡¯re not looking,¡± he said.

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re an idiot,¡± Michelle explained. ¡°If it did that, it¡¯d be impossible make a map of it. Not unless the map also moved around, so unless Glasses here is actually carrying a smart phone wrapped in a wad of paper as a disguise ¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a testament to how weird some of the people around here are that that isn¡¯t actually all that farfetched,¡± Jill said. ¡°I only wish I¡¯d had the presence of mind. Or a smart phone.¡±

    They made it back to the room before the gatorcar. Aaron motioned his soldiers forward. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°everyone shut up: we¡¯ve got work to do. This door is a choke point. Men, ready your grenades. We¡¯ll throw on my count, then rush in with a staggered formation ¡­¡±

    Roger tuned him out and looked around. The catwalk overhead drew his attention ¨C he was fairly sure neither alligators could climb ¨C but he still couldn¡¯t see any way to reach it. There were plenty of random objects lying around, but nothing like a grapnel or a rope. Instead, he cleared out a patch of ground, exposing navy blue carpet, then began stacking books, making sure to lay them all flat so he could make a tower. It turned out to be easier said than done: there were some very large books, but most were smaller, so he had to lay several down side-by-side to form the base, and they weren¡¯t all of equal thickness, so it wasn¡¯t perfectly level. After a few layers, the tower began to wobble, so he had to go back and make a thicker base to compensate.

    The crew wasn¡¯t having much luck either. The grenades had only managed to make the gatorcar angrier than usual, so now it was pulling nonstop wheelies in the next room and bouncing off the walls, moving too fast for anyone to get more than a glancing hit to ping off its chassis. Michelle¡¯s palm was glued to her face; Jill sat cross-legged with an expression of condescending amusement like that of someone watching a funny cat video. The soldiers bunched up at the doorway, unwilling to enter the room but unable to get a decent position from outside.

    ¡°This is stupid,¡± Michelle was repeating over and over, her voice largely drowned out by the bark of gunfire, ¡°this is so stupid ¡­¡±

    Roger finally got his book tower as tall as himself. Jill turned to watch with detached interest as he scuffled up the side, careful not to knock it over, climbed on top, stood to gauge the distance, crouched, sprang, and grabbed the catwalk above with a clang. It swung in space, but the cables held, and he managed to pull himself up. He lay there panting, wishing he exercised more often.

    ¡°Hey, stop shooting!¡± Michelle said to Aaron, then, sweetly, ¡°Hey, nice thinking, Roger. Do you see a ladder up there?¡±

    The catwalk was made of steel plates loosely wired together, so they could see a person moving along it from below but not items resting on a plate. From Roger¡¯s position, he could see that there were a few more books lying around, and the usual assortment of random items, including a butterfly knife this time. He quietly pocketed the knife. ¡°Nope, nothing. You¡¯ll have to climb up.¡±

    Michelle looked at the book pile doubtfully. The recoil from his jump had knocked it askew, and it didn¡¯t look like it¡¯d survive a second one. Even if it did, she was shorter than him, and he¡¯d barely made it. They¡¯d have to build the pile up higher and stronger, and then she¡¯d need a boost or a second pile to even get onto it without toppling it, and then she wasn¡¯t strong enough to do a pullup. ¡°Isn¡¯t there anything?¡±

    ¡°The more you ask, the more the answer will stay the same.¡±

    Michelle thought. ¡°Go ahead and look for something, then. Your friend stays here with us. Aaron, forget the gatorcar and help make a platform.¡±

    ¡°You do realise we¡¯re going to the same place as you, don¡¯t you?¡± Jill asked, arching her back in a stretch. ¡°You don¡¯t actually need to threaten us? We¡¯d probably ask to tag along anyway; I mean, I wouldn¡¯t fancy clearing out any more doorways by hand.¡±

    Roger looked at her, unwilling to abandon her, but she seemed bizarrely relaxed considering she was being held at gunpoint. ¡°If you¡¯re sure. Does the map say anything?¡±

    She flipped through her map book, not really expecting anything. ¡°This and the third dimension aren¡¯t on speaking terms. It has other floors, but they¡¯re rendered side-by-side and the overhang isn¡¯t marked at all. The vault¡¯s close, though.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t keep us waiting,¡± Michelle said.

    Roger made his way along the catwalk. It had a T intersection in the middle of the room, the three paths leading to what seemed to be human-sized cat flaps in their respective walls. He went along into the gatorcar room.

    The catwalk split in two to follow the walls, which were lined with extra-high bookshelves, like how normal libraries have rolling ladders to access the top shelves. There was a ladder leading to the ground at one point. From up here, he could get a better look at the gatorcar.

    From ground level, it was a blur of biomechanical fury that moved too fast for much observation, but from a safe vantage, he could see that it was a surprisingly elegant fusion of animal and machine. Its head, back, and tail were ridged and scaly like an alligator¡¯s, but its legs had been replaced with large, narrow tyres like a racecar, connected to the front and rear quarters of a bright red chassis. It had a pair of scarlet spoilers, and fore and rear lights that winked on and off, looking random and angry. Its sides were partly scales, partly metal plates, in an organic pattern that looked oddly similar to a normal animal¡¯s markings. Along one side was a poison green decal reading WOO. The paint was chipped and pitted by grenade shrapnel and its repeated collisions with walls. The jaws snapped as it went along, spinning through the room.

    I wish I could say this was the weirdest thing I¡¯ve seen today. He continued along the catwalk. The gatorcar spotted him; it snarled and snapped at him, but couldn¡¯t do anything to stop him passing. At the end of the room, the two halves of the catwalk rejoined and led to another cat flap.

 Library 4

    The next room was a long book-strewn corridor with more vending machines and another pair of bathrooms. At the far end was a pool with a bubbling fountain, large enough to swim laps in, headed by a stone statue of what looked vaguely like a Power Ranger with a triumphant fist raised to the ceiling. Along the sides of the room were two rows of doors. Three on the left were bolt-lined steel; the first was open, and he heard music coming out.

    He made his way over. The floor inside was mostly clear of books, enough that he could see terracotta tiles underfoot. The music resolved itself into a catchy J-pop song. The walls were lined with pieces of electronics, dead insects, boxes of ramen, and plush dolls, all wrapped in plastic and dangling from hooks. At the far end was another doorway emanating a blue glow.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Roger called.

    There was a rustle, and a young woman in mechanic overalls and a black-stained lab coat hurried out, pushing a pair of glasses onto her nose. Her hair was straight black and looked very Asian, but her eyes were green and the rest of her face looked more Caucasian. When she saw him, her eyes lit up and she smiled.

    ¡°Hey, how¡¯s it going?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Hi,¡± Roger said, then, impulsively, ¡°Quick, there¡¯s a group of mercenaries coming.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± said the girl. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re looking for the book of immortality. They haven¡¯t shot anyone yet, that I know of, but if you want to lock them out, this is your only chance.¡±

    It would be extremely inconvenient if she did, but he wasn¡¯t about to let another innocent get captured by Michelle¡¯s crew. The woman just snorted, though. ¡°Oh great, another one. Well, I guess I¡¯d better put the kettle on.¡±

    ¡°,¡± Roger said, having not expected that response. ¡°Wait, so the book is real?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, turning to lead him deeper into the vault. ¡°It¡¯s over-hyped, sure, but I can¡¯t say it doesn¡¯t work. So what about you? Are you friends with them, or running from them or what? I¡¯m Sue, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Roger. Pleased to meet you.¡±

    She turned to flash him a grin over her shoulder but didn¡¯t break stride.

    ¡°And I¡¯m nobody, I just happened to be going in the same direction. I just want to get out of here; I¡¯ve been wandering lost for ages. There¡¯s another girl with them who¡¯s a tourist who¡¯s also pretty lost.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Yeah, it took me forever to find my way around.¡±

    She descended a ladder set into a pipe. It opened into a cavernous, circular concrete room filled with computers, glass cylinders full of what looked like giant foetuses in soup, random bits of machinery, and yet more books. Three drone guns sat in corners of the ceiling. In one corner was a little kitchen, with a sink, stove, cupboards, fridge, microwave, and an electric kettle. She made her way over, filled the kettle with water, and set it to boil.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± he asked, looking around.

    ¡°My workshop. This Library has every book ever written in any dimension, somewhere. In other words, if you know where to look and how to read it, you have access to the sum total of all human knowledge. See the lights? At first I thought they used LED technology, and it is similar, both use a quantum mechanical thing, but these lights are different. More efficient, and they never burn out, as far as I can tell. I don¡¯t really get quantum, though.¡± She waved at a glass tube in one corner, filled with a pinkish liquid and what looked like a bundle of human arms. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying my hand at bioengineering. I¡¯m already decades ahead of anyone back home. I¡¯ve got a killer manga collection too.¡±

    ¡°Back up a sec,¡± he said, ¡°what do you mean, in any dimension?¡±

    ¡°How much do you remember?¡± she asked. ¡°Of back home? Because in my world, there was nothing like¡± she waved expansively ¡°this. What about you, did yours have this sort of cyborg tech?¡±

    ¡°You made the gatorcar, then? The S in SW stands for Sue?¡±

    ¡°Ah ¡­ yeah,¡± Sue said, scratching her head with embarrassment. ¡°I was messing around, learning the tech, thought, what are two things I can splice together, picked the first that sprang to mind. Didn¡¯t really think it through, wound up with an angry biomechanical abomination, wasn¡¯t really sure what to do. It happens.¡±

    ¡°Really,¡± he said. ¡°You might not want to say that to the others when they get here. How did you even get it out there? It¡¯s too wide to fit through a door.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that bit was tricky. He didn¡¯t eat anyone, did he? Or, you know, run them over?¡±

    ¡°No, but he frightened them pretty badly. Did you not hear the gunfire earlier?¡± Roger asked, not concerned enough with the gatorcar to press his previous question.

    ¡°This place has the best sound insulation tech out of any universe.¡±

    ¡°So why does it have the least convenient layout of any?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to say it was intended to discourage idiots who were messing with things they didn¡¯t understand,¡± Sue said, ¡°but nah, the architect¡¯s just an idiot.¡±

    ¡°You know her?¡±

    Sue laughed again. The kettle dinged and began steaming; she set out cups and poured. ¡°You could say that. Do you take yours with anything?¡± She added four lumps of sugar to hers, then stirred in milk and cream.

    ¡°Just milk, please. Does that mean you know the way outside?¡± He sipped the tea; it was strong and somehow sour, but the milk went with it nicely.

    ¡°Sure, but you don¡¯t need to know her for that, you just need time and to be methodical about exploring. Give me a minute and I¡¯ll print you a map.¡±

    ¡°You have one written in English? Oh thank you so much, I¡¯ve been looking for one of those for ages.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem. I guess I could charge for it? Eh, who can be bothered, and it¡¯s not like there¡¯s anything I could do with money in the Library anyway.¡±

    He looked up at the drone guns. ¡°So I guess you¡¯re the one who disabled the drone guns?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± She followed his gaze. ¡°Oh, right. I call them Spray ¡®n Prays. It was actually my old partner; he was better with digitals than me. I think you¡¯d¡¯ve liked him.¡±

    There was a call of ¡°Hello?¡± from upstairs.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Your friends?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that word means what you think it means,¡± he said, ¡°but yeah, that sounded like Michelle.¡± He cupped his hands to his mouth. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re down here!¡±

    Three soldiers slid down the ladder, then Michelle, Aaron, and Jill, then the last three soldiers.

    ¡°Guys, this is Sue; she¡¯s agreed to help,¡± Roger said. ¡°Sue, this is Jill, Mich¨C¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve met,¡± Sue interrupted.

    ¡°¡­ We have?¡± Michelle asked, nonplussed. ¡°Where?¡±

    Sue rolled her eyes. ¡°Jeez, am I really that forgettable? Well, whatever, do you want some tea?¡±

    ¡°Tea,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°Yeah, you know, the hot stuff you drink?¡±

    ¡°I know what tea is, it¡¯s just completely not related to what we were talking about or what we¡¯re here for.¡±

    ¡°Yes please,¡± Jill said to Sue. ¡°What is that, assam? Milk and two sugars, if you have it.¡±

    ¡°Do you only exist to annoy me?¡± Michelle asked Jill.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who begged to follow me,¡± Jill said.

    ¡°You know, if she knows where the book is, there¡¯s nothing to stop me from shooting you now.¡±

    ¡°Couple of things,¡± Sue said, handing Jill a cup. ¡°One, don¡¯t shoot anyone. I won¡¯t help you if you do. Two, you know how in movies they always say not to shoot in an aeroplane or submarine? Because, I mean aside from all the usual reasons why you shouldn¡¯t be shooting there, or anywhere really, if a bullet goes through the hull, it¡¯ll depressurise and everyone will die?¡±

    ¡°This is a vault,¡± Aaron said. ¡°It isn¡¯t pressurised.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± said Sue, ¡°but one of the tanks in here is compressed chlorine trifluoride, so for all intents and purposes ¡­¡±

    ¡°Should that mean anything to any of us?¡± Aaron asked.

    Sue looked to Jill, who said, ¡°Let me put it this way. If you do shoot, I hope you hit me rather than miss and rupture the tank: I¡¯d have a better chance of surviving. Sue, why do you have chlorine trifluoride?¡±

    ¡°Keeping my clean room clean. I¡¯ve had to fabricate a lot of this gear myself.¡±

    Jill raised her eyebrows. ¡°You built a clean room single-handed?¡±

    ¡°Who said anything about that? There are plenty of people around the place. I rope them in to helping sometimes.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, plenty?¡± Roger asked. ¡°Aside from these guys, we¡¯ve barely seen anyone.¡±

    Sue frowned. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ Are you sure? There are at least twenty just in this area, and they were around just yesterday. I hope they didn¡¯t just run off without telling me.¡±

    ¡°Eyes on the prize,¡± Michelle said. ¡°The book of immortality. Do you know where it is?¡±

    Sue nodded. ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s looking for it? Figures. Yeah, I know where it is, but first, are you sure you want it?¡±

    Michelle gave her an unimpressed look. ¡°Are you going to hit me with that old spiel about humans needing death?¡±

    Sue shrugged whatever. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m with you on that one. Dying sucks pretty hard. The question is, how hard does it suck for you? Can you quantify its exact suckitude? Does it suck so hard that you¡¯d do anything to avoid it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but you have a mental image that isn¡¯t ¨C¡±

    There was a burst of static and a PA began speaking in the voice of the old hunchbacked man from the altar room. ¡°Attention, please. There¡¯s just been a fault detected in the Library fire suppression system,¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°Could a mechanic please report to Engineering when you can, repeat, could a mechanic please report to Engineering when you can. Thank you.¡± It clicked off.

    ¡°Does that sort of thing happen often?¡± Jill asked Sue.

    Sue frowned, uneasy. ¡°No. I guess it¡¯s not the first maintenance problem, but I¡¯ve never heard anyone else use the PA before. I ¡­ really get the feeling I should go there and fix whatever it is.¡±

    ¡°Not happening,¡± Michelle said, motioning a soldier to train his gun on Sue. ¡°We¡¯ve wasted enough time blundering around blind; I¡¯m not going to spend hours on a detour to fix a building I¡¯m never coming back to. Besides, if there are so many others around, one of them can see to it.¡±

    ¡°I really think this is a bad idea,¡± Sue said.

    Michelle folded her arms. ¡°I really don¡¯t care.¡±

    Sue hesitated, looking at the gun. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who likes being alive. Why d¡¯you think this place is so empty? Why isn¡¯t it overflowing with immortals?¡±

    ¡°Whichever idiot keeps letting gatorcars loose probably has something to do with it,¡± Jill noted, looking at the foetus tanks and probably making an educated guess.

    ¡°The gatorcar isn¡¯t important,¡± Sue said quickly, ¡°but think about it. A treasure that gives eternal life? You¡¯re not the first to think of questing for that, and you wouldn¡¯t be the first to think of bringing it back home, copying it, and selling it for top dollar. So why do you think nobody¡¯s ever done it?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just tell me instead of answering my questions with more questions?¡±

    ¡°She asked,¡± Jill said softly.

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t want to,¡± Sue said bluntly. ¡°You seriously get under my skin sometimes, and you¡¯re even worse to my friends. Because an old woman who¡¯s much nicer than you asked me not to talk about it. Because if you think about something for a minute, instead of just bulling through with your looks and money, you might improve as a person. Lots of reasons, really.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about an old woman?¡± Roger asked.

    Sue shrugged. ¡°Someone I met earlier, a local. I didn¡¯t catch her name.¡±

    ¡°We met someone who wanted to talk to her a while back.¡±

    ¡°Last I saw her, she was hanging out near the exit, so you¡¯ll probably bump into her when you go there. But if you want to be sure, I also have a line to the PA system; I managed to hack it from here. Do you want to broadcast a message?¡± Sue offered.

    ¡°You did? That¡¯s great! Please and thank you.¡±

    She went back over to her computer and typed for a minute; a printer half-buried under a pile of paperbacks hummed and spat out paper. ¡°That¡¯s two copies of the map, with the best routes marked for the exit and the immortality repo.¡± She hit some more keys. ¡°And that¡¯s loaded the PA. Roger?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just giving me a map?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°How do I know it¡¯s accurate?¡±

    ¡°Because ¡­ normal people have better things to do with their time than draw up fake maps in advance to foist off onto visitors who may or may not ever come?¡±

    ¡°I meant, how do I know this doesn¡¯t lead into some deathtrap or dead end like the boiler room.¡±

    Roger ignored them and went over to the computer. The interface was familiar, easy, written in English instead of whatever the official computers had. Even the keyboard was a qwerty. He hit the GO button.

    ¡°Attention please,¡± he said. ¡°Could Charlotte Abercrombie please go to the bottomless pit room, repeat, could Charlotte Abercrombie please go to the bottomless pit room? Or if you¡¯re not sure what I¡¯m talking about, just stay where you are, and I¡¯ll come and find you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting name,¡± Jill said.

    ¡°He told it to us, remember?¡±

    ¡°I was there,¡± she said, managing to sound sarcastic and offended. ¡°I just think it¡¯s an interesting mixture of names. Something French with something Scottish, don¡¯t you think there¡¯s a story there?¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± Sue was wearily saying to Michelle, ¡°if you don¡¯t want my help, don¡¯t ask for it. I¡¯m not stopping you from searching on your own.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to wander this stupid place for the rest of my life,¡± Michelle said in her most patronising voice. ¡°I want a guide who knows it already, and I want them to come with me so I know for sure that I¡¯m going to the right place.¡±

    ¡°You sure have a knack for teaming up with people who don¡¯t like you,¡± Jill said.

    ¡°Do you have anything useful to add?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°,¡± said Jill.

    ¡°I definitely don¡¯t,¡± Roger said, ¡°so would either of you mind if I left? I¡¯ve been here long enough.¡±

    He and Jill looked to Michelle. ¡°I don¡¯t need either of you if I have her,¡± she said, indicating Sue.

    ¡°Come back and visit later?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Uh, sure,¡± he lied. ¡°Jill?¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯d like that. Thank you.¡± She fetched their map from the printer, checked it, and did a double-take. ¡°Uh, Sue? This goes through an elevator.¡±

    ¡°Oh you are joking,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Sue said.

    ¡°No it¡¯s not,¡± Roger and Aaron said together.

    ¡°That elevator is fine,¡± Sue repeated. ¡°Most elevators have interconnected shafts, so that if one goes down, they can cycle in another car, fix or replace the broken one, and put it back in, all without anyone being stuck anywhere, see? But that means you can bring down the entire network with a single ¡­ well, yeah. But that one shaft is isolated, I guess as a defensive mechanism against attack from the outside. I can one one hundred percent guarantee that it¡¯s safe to use.¡±

    Roger and Jill exchanged glances.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not safe,¡± he said, ¡°that pretty much rules out us coming back and visiting.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t hold it against you,¡± Sue said. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll see you in a while?¡±

    ¡°Okay. See you later.¡±

 Library 5

    Jill gave Roger the map, and they climbed the ladder and left the vault. ¡°I think I like her,¡± she said.

    ¡°She¡¯s nice, sure.¡±

    ¡°She made the gatorcar?¡±

    ¡°No comment,¡± he said.

    ¡°Got it,¡± she said. ¡°Are we going back for your sister Charlotte yet, or should we scout ahead to make sure this really is a way out? Check that the elevator really is safe?¡±

    He let a long breath out through his nose. ¡°Was I that obvious back there?¡±

    ¡°About PAing your sister? No, you were very good. I don¡¯t think Michelle suspects anything.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief.¡± He ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°I really don¡¯t like how long we¡¯ve been away from her. If it were just that, I¡¯d say go back. But if we leave before the soldiers do, and they realise we didn¡¯t go in the direction the map says we should ¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ They might get curious and follow us,¡± she finished. ¡°Good point.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s worse than that. I don¡¯t want to go into details, but let¡¯s just say she¡¯s a person of interest to Chipros. If they even suspect anything, it¡¯ll be bad. They might seem harmless, but trust me, they¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°A little further, then,¡± Jill said.

    There was only one sliding door between them and the elevator bank marked on the map. They kept talking as they walked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re very protective of your sister. Why is that?¡±

    He briefly thought about not answering. It was rather personal, but it wasn¡¯t really sensitive. ¡°Because someone has to be,¡± he said. ¡°Our mother ¡­ it¡¯s not that she¡¯s a bad mother,¡± he said defensively, ¡°but she¡¯s only human, and she¡¯s overworked. She can¡¯t always be there for us. I remember when Charlotte was four, she had night terrors, and Mum was working nights, so I had to do what I could to help. Night terrors are like nightmares, but worse; even after you wake up, you still ¡­¡± He shook his head, shooing away bad memories. ¡°Anyway, one day I had the epiphany that when life gives you lemons, you can use it as an excuse to do worse, or take it as a call to be better. When you put it that way, it takes a special kind of loser to choose to be worse.¡± There was quiet for a while. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I feel a little guilty. Here you¡¯re giving an inspiring speech about deciding to be a hero when you were still a kid, and I¡¯m just swanning around sightseeing. It¡¯s selfish.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hardly heroic to look after one¡¯s own family. And you¡¯re technically helping her right now too,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°I guess,¡± she said, not sounding convinced.

    They arrived at the elevator bank. Roger pressed the button to call it; both of them backed way off and made ready to run for it, but the elevator car dinged onto the floor without event, showing a dull, professional-looking interior of chrome, painted metal, and a mirror. They approached suspiciously, and he poked at it with a handy mop handle propped against the corner of the room, but it seemed fine.

    ¡°Do we trust it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come this far,¡± she said. ¡°What else are you going to do?¡±

    He tensed and walked inside. Jill followed a moment later. It still seemed fine.

    There were buttons for only two floors, labelled in the same unfamiliar script. She pointed them out. ¡°That one says inside, that one¡¯s outside.¡±

    He pressed outside. The doors slid shut, and it began rising.

    ¡°Did Sue tell ¨C¡± she began, but the PA came on again and interrupted her.

    ¡°Attention, please. Could a mechanic report to Engineering as soon as possible, repeat, could a mechanic report to Engineering as soon as possible. Thank you.¡±

    Roger blinked. Twice now, and the old man had sounded slightly alarmed this time. Perhaps Sue really shouldn¡¯t be ignoring it. Still, it was out of his hands. Either Michelle let her or she didn¡¯t.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Jill looked like she agreed, but she didn¡¯t say anything about it. ¡°Did Sue say anything about what the Library was about?¡± she asked instead.

    ¡°She said it had every book from every universe.¡±

    ¡°If ever I try to do the same thing, I¡¯ll use a hard drive,¡± she said. ¡°Unless that isn¡¯t an option. Perhaps a hard copy is important somehow?¡±

    ¡°I wish I could be as enthusiastic as you,¡± he said.

    She smiled. ¡°I think this is just about your stop, but if I¡¯m lucky I¡¯ll be able to keep exploring awhile longer. I think there¡¯s a lot to be said for having someone you care about enough to not have time to wander around aimlessly.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have anyone? Any family?¡±

    ¡°I do, parents and a little sister of my own, but they¡¯re not in any sort of danger. You can¡¯t protect someone who doesn¡¯t need it. I wouldn¡¯t mind having a boyfriend, but you seem preoccupied and Aaron isn¡¯t my type, so what can I do?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always Chuck. He¡¯ll probably be single for a while.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always good to have a fallback plan.¡±

    The doors opened, and they stepped out of the Library.

    They were on an observation platform atop a tower: a circle of small white tiles, surrounded by a low, rusty safety railing, with white cluster lights overhead. A gentle rain fell, pattering against the tiles. All around below them were the boxy bulges of Library rooms topped with white stone roofing, interspersed with more towers, water tanks, solar panels, and decorations: tile mosaics, crystal sculptures, gargoyles, spires, and domes. They spread out as far as the eye could see, dimmed to silhouettes and swallowed entirely by the distant rain.

    ¡°¡­ The entire city is the Library,¡± Jill realised. ¡°Maybe even the entire planet. It¡¯s possible to go outdoors, but there¡¯s no way to go outside, not because there¡¯s no route, but because there¡¯s nowhere that¡¯s not part of the Library. Sue wasn¡¯t even lying when she called this the way out. She didn¡¯t give a bad answer; we asked a bad question.¡±

    Roger just looked around. The sky was lighter toward one side; whether it meant morning or evening, he couldn¡¯t guess. He¡¯d lost track of time a long time ago. It could even have been something else entirely, maybe even an aurora if this world¡¯s magnetic field was the right shape.

    ¡°Hey, Roger?¡± Jill said. Her voice had always been airy and lilting before, but suddenly it was very precise. ¡°You, uh, might want to take a look at this.¡±

    He turned around. On the platform, out to the right from the elevator where they couldn¡¯t see at first, was someone lying on the ground. As he approached, it became apparent that she was an old woman in a muumuu, lying in a pool of blood that had mostly drained away. She was clearly dead: there was a very deep gash from her right hip to her left shoulder. It had gone all the way through her body and nearly chopped her in half. His stomach churned; he swallowed, trying to hide it from Jill.

    She was transfixed by the body. She dipped a finger into the last of the blood, showing it stark against her fair skin until the rain washed it away. ¡°This was recent. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any realistic way off here except the elevator, and the only person we know who knows about here is Sue.¡± She thought about it. ¡°I don¡¯t think it was her. This was a single cut that went through a lot of bones very cleanly. There¡¯s no way a girl like her would be strong enough.¡±

    ¡°She kept talking about having technology from other dimensions,¡± Roger said slowly, more thinking aloud than anything else. ¡°What if one of them was a super-sharp blade?¡±

    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s the killer?¡±

    He thought about it, tried to picture Sue swinging a sword into another human being¡¯s body with intent to take their life, but it was impossible. There was no way she was a murderer. ¡°No. Of course not.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Jill replied, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. ¡°There¡¯s no way out of here and there¡¯s a killer on the loose with unknown motives and a very sharp sword, who may or may not be the only person who seems to know anything, and who also may or may not be your sister¡¯s stalker. What do you want to do now?¡±

    He looked out into the rain and gloom, giving himself time to think, although he didn¡¯t really need it. ¡°The same thing as before,¡± he said. ¡°Get myself and my sister safely back home. It¡¯s just a bit more urgent now.¡±

    He knelt over the body. The woman¡¯s eyes and mouth were half-open in what could have been surprise or fear, her hands still raised where she¡¯d instinctively brought them up to try to ward off a blow that probably could have gone through them too. He imagined her last moments: seeing her assailant, stumbling backward and trying to dodge or just get away, but she was old and too slow; she got just far enough that the attack didn¡¯t bisect her, but it still struck home deep enough to cut her spine, so her legs gave out, and she probably lost consciousness moments later. He pressed her mouth and eyes shut. He contemplated trying to bury or burn her, but he couldn¡¯t think of any practical way to do it. His duty was to the living.

    ¡°If this place,¡± he said slowly, ¡°has every book from every world, then there has to be some way to move things between worlds. We just have to figure out how. We need to find the architect.¡±

    ¡°So we should go back to the shrine and ask the old man to tell us about her?¡± Jill asked.

    ¡°Before you arrived, Sue mentioned something about knowing her. She was more helpful than he was.¡±

    ¡°And if it turns out that she¡¯s the killer?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll worry about that when it comes to it,¡± he said. ¡°I really, really hate this, but we¡¯re going to have to hold off on getting back to my sister for a bit longer.¡±

    Jill gave a shrug and a nod. ¡°I trust your judgement,¡± was all she said, and she went back to the elevator.

    Roger gave one last look at the old woman¡¯s corpse, lying in the rain, before following.

 Library final

    ¡°Tell me one thing,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Why are there books blocking the doorways? I get that there¡¯s not enough shelf space, but don¡¯t you stack them out of the way whenever you go anywhere?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± said Sue. ¡°And every time there¡¯s an earthquake, they fall over and the doors autoclose. Believe me, it annoys me more than it does you.¡±

    They were sitting on a heavily patched couch in a room tilted forty degrees. The books had all fallen to bury the far door; the Chipros men were busy clearing them out and stacking them on either side of the door, but it looked like they¡¯d take a while. The task called for a skip loader. The entire area had partially collapsed and spilled down into the floor below; Sue assured them that it was a shortcut.

    ¡°And this room was knocked over by an earthquake too, I suppose?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°Is this place going to collapse around our ears?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s had pretty much no maintenance for a very long time,¡± Sue said, ¡°but it¡¯s held up pretty well for all that time. So I guess I¡¯ll pencil in ¡®probably not, unless someone does something stupid like spraying it with bullets, or not letting the mechanic work on it¡¯. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a sick burn in there somewhere, but danged if I can ¨C¡±

    The PA interrupted them again, and this time the old man was clearly panicking. ¡°Attention, please. We need a mechanic in Engineering immediately, repeat, we need a mechanic in Engineering now. Please respond.¡±

    Sue looked at the soldiers and their guns and sniffed. ¡°Speak of the devil. And speaking of burns, sick and otherwise, I smell smoke. Will you let me see to it yet?¡±

    ¡°Why should I?¡± Michelle asked, but her voice was uneasy. ¡°If we become immortal, it won¡¯t even matter if the Library burns down. Will it?¡±

    Sue balled a fist. ¡°You¡¯ll be beyond caring, sure, but I won¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°Once I get the book, you can do whatever you like. So it¡¯s in your best interests to cooperate and get it to me quickly.¡±

    ¡°I see the door!¡± called a soldier. ¡°Give me a moment ¨C¡± He tossed a few more books aside, then put his boot to the door.

    ¡°And speaking of stupid things,¡± Michelle undertoned, just before he broke through the door; the books still pressed against it promptly fell through, and all the books lying on them fell after, and a moment later the soldier had been pushed through and buried under an avalanche of books. The other men rushed through to clear them off him. Michelle and Sue ignored them to press forward.

    The next room was full of computer servers and unidentifiable machinery, all covered with intricate glyphs like a sorcerer¡¯s tower, all lit by dull red emergency lights. Sue made her way over to a bank of computers, then reached under and pulled out a cardboard box. From it, she pulled a thin hardcover book.

    ¡°Here it is,¡± she said. ¡°The book that tells you how to live forever.¡± Michelle approached; Sue handed it over and bent back over the box.

    ¡°Aaand it¡¯s in the unreadable language,¡± Michelle said, annoyed without being surprised.

    ¡°One of my best friends came with me, back when I first arrived here,¡± Sue said. ¡°We had the same problem. Eventually, we found a local and persuaded them to give us a translation.¡± She straightened, holding a book the same size, this one titled, Immortality for Dummies, and handed it over. ¡°It has everything you need. One final warning, though ¡­ you haven¡¯t been asking the right questions. Why are you confident that it has anything you want?¡±

    ¡°This is the book of immortality, isn¡¯t it?¡± Michelle asked, getting annoyed.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Well, I want to become immortal, don¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡±

    ¡°Shut up or I¡¯ll have Aaron shoot you.¡± Michelle opened the book and began reading. ¡°?¡± She looked up at Sue. ¡°This is just a whole lot of blueprints.¡±

    ¡°Did you want to be told to eat well and get regular organ transplants?¡± Sue asked, ignoring the threat. ¡°It tells you how to build a machine that will make you immortal.¡±

    ¡°The building is on fire,¡± Michelle said. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to do that.¡±

    Sue tutted. ¡°You really should read through it, but if you can¡¯t be bothered, there¡¯s a working model right there.¡±

    She pointed to a huge, boxy machine standing a few paces away. It was mostly covered with chromed stainless steel, with the exception of one panel that had been prised away, revealing innards of glittering jelly. On the front was a large red button.

    ¡°Optical gel circuitry,¡± Sue said proudly. ¡°The technology here is amazing. I tried taking it apart a while back, but even with the schematics, so much of it goes over my head. Yes, it still works,¡± she added, reading Michelle¡¯s expression, ¡°I put everything back where I found it. Optical gel is a lot more resilient than electronic circuit boards.¡±

    ¡°So ¡­ I just push the button? Don¡¯t I have to enter any input? Or, I don¡¯t know, turn it on or something?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s this old joke,¡± Sue said. ¡°In the future, computers will have only one button, and it¡¯ll be labelled: do what I want you to do. Press it, and you¡¯ll become immortal. This is the point of no return. Last chance.¡±

    Michelle set her jaw, walked over to the machine, and hit the button.

    She fell to the ground like a ragdoll.

    Aaron had his revolver on Sue in a heartbeat; the other soldiers fanned out, levelling their guns. ¡°What just happened? What did you do to her?!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±

    A few machines along, a printer hummed to life and began spitting out paper. The tray fed into another machine that clacked quietly for a moment, then a conveyor belt presented a bound hardcover book, the same style as the thousands underfoot.

    ¡°I can¡¯t read the title,¡± Sue said, ¡°but I can guess what it says. ¡®Michelle Bright: a biography.¡¯ The people who lived here valued knowledge above all else, so they tunnelled across to other worlds to learn about their technology and cultures. When they found one whose people had figured out how to transcribe a human ¨C every detail about their mind, body, soul, their history and relationships, everything that makes you who you are ¨C and put it into a book, where they could be reprinted infinitely even if their body were destroyed, and every iota of information about them would be perfectly preserved forever ¡­ well, it¡¯s not surprising that there aren¡¯t any of them left. Jason and I figured that out the hard way, too.¡±

    Aaron was breathing hard, his grip on his gun shaking. ¡°You killed her. Murderer.¡±

    ¡°I gave her every warning I could,¡± Sue said coolly, ¡°and more than I was supposed to. I¡¯m a guest here; I have to follow their rules, and one is that you can¡¯t be spoon-fed knowledge, you have to ¨C¡±

    There were four sharp retorts. She blinked and followed the trajectory of the shots, her hand instinctively moving out to trace the path from his gun into her stomach. Her fingers came away red.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­¡±

    She swayed, then stepped over to the immortality machine and stumbled. She managed to slap her hand onto the button, and collapsed on top of Michelle, trailing a red handprint down the machine¡¯s shell. There was a moment of silence, and then the printer began whirring.

    Static fizzed and the old man came onto the PA again, his voice resigned now. ¡°The Library is closing in fifteen minutes,¡± he said sadly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go home, but you can¡¯t stay here.¡± It clicked off.

    There came a clatter from the doorway. Aaron and his soldiers whirled: Roger and Jill stood staring at the two girls, where Sue¡¯s blood was soaking them both and the books underfoot.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Aaron began, lowering his gun and raising a free hand placatingly, ¡°it¡¯s not ¨C¡±

    Roger didn¡¯t wait for him to finish; without a word, he grabbed Jill¡¯s hand and they turned and sprinted away, books flying away underfoot. One of the soldiers took aim.

    ¡°Forget them,¡± Aaron snapped, shoving the man¡¯s gun barrel upward. He sniffed twice: smoke was thick in the air now. He clicked his gun¡¯s safety on, holstered it, threw Sue¡¯s book out of the binder and onto the floor, took Michelle¡¯s, and tucked it under his arm. ¡°We¡¯re leaving, now!¡±

    Roger and Jill ran for it. They reached the vault hall, practically flew up the ladder, over the gatorcar chamber while it chomped angrily at them, through to the room just past where he¡¯d met Jill, through the security station and flower room and another room full of ships in glass bottles, then into a final one with a lot of beanbags. On one was his sister, Charlotte. She lay on a beanbag, her face scrunched into her elbow. She wore jeans, a pink shirt, and tennis shoes, all noticeably scruffy.

    ¡°We meet at last,¡± Jill murmured. Roger kept moving and knelt beside his sister.

    She stirred and looked up at him. ¡°Rog, my head is killing me,¡± she moaned piteously. ¡°Is that smoke? Where were you?¡±

    ¡°We ran into a Chipros unit and took ages losing them.¡± She sat up in alarm, then reeled and clutched at her temples. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯ve got to get away from them.¡±

    ¡°My head hurts ¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll find some medicine, but we¡¯ve got to move.¡±

    The door they had first come from, before meeting Jill, was thick oak. He had of course cleared it of books then, but he¡¯d closed it behind them so that Charlotte might have a moment to hide if she heard someone on the other side, so he ran over and yanked it open. This was a mistake, because the opposite side was an inferno.

    He staggered backward, slipped on a book, and fell; the fire sucked air out of the room and their lungs, creating a pressure drop that, luckily, wrenched the door shut. Unluckily, it slammed forcefully enough to knock cracks into itself; more oxygen was sucked in through the holes, and smoke blown out, where it formed little wispy spirals that slowly flowed away into ceiling vents.

    Roger dry-heaved, gulping for air. Jill hurried over and turned him onto his side. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±

    He coughed. ¡°No, just ¡­ winded. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    She looked at the door. The air and smoke exchanged were not a problem, not as long as the vents could deal with it; the fact that the door was being destroyed was. Every room in the Library was overflowing with books, which were made of paper, and they wouldn¡¯t be able to stay ahead of the fire if they had to clear out every doorway. They could try hiding in Sue¡¯s vault, or atop the tower, but those would involve going back toward the Chipros men, who¡¯d just shot Sue and Michelle.

    ¡°The shrine,¡± she said. ¡°I saw an oxygen tank near it, and there are no books inside. If we hide behind the altar and take turns with the tank, we¡¯ll have a chance.¡±

    Roger thought. He really didn¡¯t want to take Charlotte there, and the fire might make the room collapse. On the other hand, a stalker was about the least dangerous thing left in the Library, and if the building did collapse, they were probably dead no matter where they hid. He nodded.

    He went to Charlotte and took her hand, and the three of them ran off, slamming each door behind them to hopefully buy a few more seconds. They passed through one room after another, then ran up the spiral stairway. Roger grabbed the scuba tank and mask as he passed, and they made it to the shrine.

    The hunchback was still in there, biting his knuckles. He looked up as they entered. ¡°This really isn¡¯t supposed to happen,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re telling me,¡± Roger panted, setting the heavy scuba gear down. Charlotte sat down beside it, swaying from dizziness. ¡°Everyone inside, and let¡¯s lock the door. Sis, try not to worry about the photos. We can ¨C¡±

    ¡°Room for one more?¡±

    They turned. There was a newcomer behind them, a girl in a white knee-length gown and a pair of sandals. She looked about ten, had black hair in a pixie cut, fair skin, and warm honey-coloured eyes, but her most unusual feature was a pair of diaphanous wings on her back like a dragonfly¡¯s. For some reason, the hunchback took a step backward, and Jill moved closer to Roger.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Roger said, standing aside to let the girl in, then shutting the door behind her. From behind, he could see that her gown was backless, tied at the nape of the neck; her wings sprouted directly from the skin around her shoulder blades. ¡°Cool wings.¡±

    She ignored him, approached the hunchback, and smiled. ¡°You know what I am, right. Want to do this?¡±

    He backed up until he bumped into a wall. ¡°I ¨C no! Heck no. I just want to leave.¡±

    ¡°You want to go out?¡± Roger said. ¡°Of the room made of stone and not full of kindling? You know it¡¯s on fire outside, right?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances!¡±

    ¡°Leave?¡± repeated the winged girl, tilting her head to the side. ¡°You aren¡¯t thinking of telling the guardian on me, are you?¡±

    ¡°I ¨C n-no, of course not!¡±

    Roger couldn¡¯t tell whether he was lying badly, or was just too terrified to keep his voice steady. He looked over at the girl, trying to work out what had the hunchback so scared, but she didn¡¯t make eye contact. Maybe he was just weirded out over the wings; old people often reacted badly to even piercings and tattoos, so perhaps he was just unsettled over whatever sort of body modification that was.

    She shrugged and turned away, her expression suddenly bored. ¡°Man, whatever. Like he¡¯d get here in time even if you did. Go on.¡±

    ¡°Thank you ¡­¡±

    He hobbled around the edges of the room, pushed the door open, and ran for it. Roger watched him go, still not understanding, but he shut the door once he was gone.

    Jill was staring at the girl with unblinking intensity. The girl had given her a moment¡¯s look before becoming bored and looking up at the ceiling. Roger tried to catch Jill¡¯s eye to figure out what was up with her, but no luck.

    Without warning, Charlotte collapsed. He ran to her and cradled her; she was clutching her head and sobbing. ¡°Sis! What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Hurts ¡­ burning ¡­¡±

    Roger squeezed her hand, trying to think of something to do. ¡°Do either of you know first aid? Or have any medicine? Anything?¡±

    Jill looked from the two of them to the winged girl. ¡°You,¡± she said, hesitated, and pressed on. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about the old woman on the lookout tower, would you?¡±

    The girl blinked slowly and fixed her gaze on the stained glass wasp on the ceiling, not interested or inclined to talk.

    Jill set her mouth into a line. ¡°You might know something about who sabotaged the sprinklers and lit the fires, too.¡±

    Roger looked up at the winged girl. She was still pretending not to hear Jill, but her eyes were suddenly very sharp. It suddenly struck him that her wings were fused, more like a wasp¡¯s than a dragonfly¡¯s.

    ¡°I think you know more than a little about what¡¯s wrong with her. And I think we both know who took all these photos.¡±

    The winged girl took a little skipping step and landed atop the altar. She snapped her head around to lock eyes with Jill, then yawned and gave a lopsided smile. ¡°Man, you talk a lot. Are we going to have a problem?¡±

    Roger gently set Charlotte down on the ground and rose to his full height. He was much bigger than the girl. ¡°You¡¯ll have a problem with me,¡± he said, ¡°if you can fix her but don¡¯t. What¡¯s going on, what¡¯s happening to her?¡±

    She tilted her head again. ¡°So much for hoping I¡¯d be able to do this without killing anyone else. Well, whatever.¡±

    A fire axe appeared out of thin air to her side. It floated unsupported for a moment, before spinning forward and thudding into Roger¡¯s chest. He stared at it in shock, then coughed blood and fell.

    Jill shrieked and stepped backward. The axe twisted itself free of him, spattering blood, and turned to face her and shot forward; she dodged and grabbed it by the handle. It tried to wrestle free of her grasp, but she held on with both hands, and after a moment it stilled.

    The winged girl frowned, puzzled. ¡°Hey, what are you doing? That¡¯s cheating!¡±

    Jill panted. Her gaze swept around the room, from the bloody axe in her hands to Roger¡¯s unmoving body to Charlotte to the girl. Her expression hardened. ¡°I¡¯m hard to kill,¡± she said, widening her grip for combat. ¡°And I really, really don¡¯t like you right now.¡±

    The winged girl folded her arms and pouted. ¡°Hmph. Aren¡¯t you just a human?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jill said. ¡°And I can tell you¡¯re not. What are you?¡±

    The girl tsked. ¡°Whatever. Guess I¡¯ll just have to kick it up a notch, then.¡±

    Circular saws a metre wide materialised and span forward. Jill barely had time to jerk her axe down in a clumsy parry; one saw ricocheted off the axe handle and buried itself in a wall, but the other only glanced off and went clean through her right side, cutting almost to her navel with a spurt of blood. She fell.

    The winged girl looked from Jill to Roger to Charlotte. Roger was still; Jill was still moving, barely, feebly trying to hold the mortal wound shut; Charlotte¡¯s hands were around her head, but she had stopped moving.

 Craft 1

    <u>Craft Arc</u>

    The room was blindingly white. It was small and cramped, only a few paces in any direction, with rounded edges and corners. In the centre was a plastic box with buttons and a transparent surface, built into the floor, also with rounded edges. LEDs silently lit everything from sockets in the ceiling. There was a strong antiseptic smell, and the air was bitingly cold, condensing every breath into fog. Traces of ice glittered on the walls and ceiling.

    Two girls were bent over the box, pressing buttons frantically. Both wore bleached white hospital gowns and nothing else, other than that one had glasses. The one with glasses was half-Asian, with shoulder-length black hair and unusual green eyes; the one without was pure Caucasian, with pale blue eyes and blonde-brown hair tied in a French braid. They had only been in the room a minute and were already gasping from the cold.

    ¡°Any ideas?¡± asked the one with glasses, her teeth chattering.

    ¡°Could we just¡± she took a shuddering, painful breath ¡°smash the plastic?¡±

    ¡°Bad idea. If you de-ice wrong, they die. I think.¡±

    No-glasses looked through the top of the box again. Inside was a third girl in a gown, this one with auburn hair, with a pink-tinted respirator mask. She was unmoving down to the cellular level and technically dead already, but not permanently so.

    ¡°Imma press everything.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t press everything!¡±

    Glasses shoed No-glasses away from the console and looked over it again. The buttons were labelled, but the labels were all in Spanish. She didn¡¯t know Spanish.

    No-glasses pushed back over and began pressing each button, methodically working her way along the dashboard. Presently, the console beeped, and an LED display lit up.

    Continuar?

    ¡°Yes, continue,¡± she said, and hit a promising, big green button.

    The console displayed more Spanish and the box hummed and began to heat up.

    ¡°Can you please hurry up?¡± No-glasses said to the machine through gritted teeth, gasping at the cold every five or so syllables. ¡°I am literally freezing my tits off here, and this gown is made of tissue paper.¡±

    Glasses moved over and pulled No-glasses into a hug. No-glasses would normally have been too proud to allow it, but the alternative was to freeze, so she curled her arms around her for her body heat.

    ¡°If you tell anyone about this, I will lie,¡± she said.

    ¡°Aw, and my entire life had been leading up to that. Y¡¯know, it¡¯d be warmer to put our hands under the gowns.¡±

    ¡°I want to give you fifty kilos of no, but I only have a ten kilo bag and I don¡¯t want to spill any. Can I fill it up, then you take out all the no and give the bag back to me, and we do this five times in a row?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of no.¡±

    ¡°If something¡¯s worth doing, it¡¯s worth doing properly.¡±

    Glasses was too cold to think of any more repartee, so she just pulled No-glasses tight while they waited for their friend to thaw. Presently, the box gave a cheery little alert ping, and the plastic top folded itself inward.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± said the girl inside, her eyelids fluttering open.

    No-glasses was on her feet in a flash, reaching down to take Auburn¡¯s hand. ¡°Are you awake?¡±

    Auburn scrunched her eyes. ¡°Um. No?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to give someone a few minutes to wake up properly after cold sleep,¡± Glasses said.

    ¡°Too bad,¡± said No-glasses, and touched the frigid back of her hand to Auburn¡¯s neck.

    Auburn shrieked and jumped.

    No-glasses just looked at her unapologetically. ¡°Can we please leave?¡±

    The three girls staggered to a thick chunk of white plastic-coated metal like a fridge door, pushed through, and slammed it behind them, then sank to sit against the door. They found themselves in a corridor made partly of stainless steel, partly uncut rocks like a cave floor. It was cylindrical and extremely long, tapering upward in the distance in either direction. Doors of all description led off at irregular intervals; some were in the walls, but others were in the floor, and plenty in the ceiling, accessed by iron ladders freestanding or set into the walls. It was much darker than inside the cold storage room, the only light coming from phosphorescent blue fungi growing all over the walls.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± Auburn asked. There was something creepy about the dark curving corridor, half sterile metal and half packed gravel; they instinctively kept their voices down.

    ¡°We¡¯d kind of hoped you could tell us,¡± said Glasses. ¡°We don¡¯t remember anything about this place. We think the cold sleep causes amnesia; we¡¯re trying to find our other friends, and hopefully somebody will know something if we look hard enough. Do you at least recognise us?¡±

    Auburn stared at her for a while, trying to remember. Her mind felt fuzzy from the cold sleep, even simple concepts and parts of muscle memory eluding her. ¡°You¡¯re ¡­ I know you, your name¡¯s on the tip of my tongue ¡­ Sue. Sue Wong. And you,¡± she turned to No-glasses, ¡°you¡¯re Michelle, um, Bright.¡±

    ¡°Nice, Lottie,¡± Sue said with a grin. ¡°It took us way longer to remember even that. But then, I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s because we were woken by a random equipment malfunction and it didn¡¯t thaw us properly.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°When we did you, we basically knew exactly how to do it perfectly,¡± Michelle said. Sue, who was sitting on Charlotte¡¯s other side, tugged at her collar.

    ¡°Hey, where¡¯s my brother?¡± Charlotte suddenly asked, looking around. ¡°I think he was with me when I went to sleep. It¡¯s all really blurry, but he was there.¡±

    ¡°You have a brother?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°I think I remember him,¡± Sue said. ¡°Sort of. Tall, cute, godawful taste in music?¡±

    ¡°I like it,¡± Charlotte said defensively.

    ¡°How cute?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°And how godawful, for that matter?¡±

    ¡°Eight out of ten for both,¡± Sue said. ¡°Maybe even a nine.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Charlotte said, flustered. ¡°Could we please not talk about how cute my brother is?¡±

    ¡°Nine is pretty cute,¡± Michelle said to Sue. ¡°And musical taste can be taught. So, here¡¯s what I¡¯m thinking. You and I came from the same chamber, so they put two or more in together, and if they¡¯re brother and sister, maybe they were together.¡±

    ¡°So you think we should mess around with it some more?¡± Sue said. ¡°If he¡¯s there, maybe we can get it to cycle him to the thawing chamber?¡±

    ¡°We should definitely wake him as soon as possible,¡± Charlotte said firmly. ¡°How do we do it?¡±

    ¡°Go in there and mash buttons until it does the thing,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Pretend you¡¯re an old person, except you can still do things instead of just locking up. Before we do, though, can we look around a bit for some warmer clothes? They don¡¯t call it cold sleep for nothing.¡±

    ¡°We should probably do that anyway,¡± Sue said, picking at her gown and glancing over at Michelle¡¯s. ¡°This fabric¡¯s, uh, pretty thin.¡± Michelle folded her arms.

    They stood up and set off toward the nearest door, a Japanese-style slider covered in white paper. Inside was a small ocean of paint of every colour, partially mixed, slowly drying out. Canvas hung from the walls or sunk into the paint. From the doorway, it looked like most were life-size nude portraits. A jumble of open paint cans lay in one corner; it looked as though a heavy impact had knocked over what could once have been an organised stack and dislodged their lids. Easels, brushes, blank canvases, and other painting supplies were scattered around the room.

    ¡°This just raises further questions,¡± Sue said.

    Michelle pointed a toe forward, swirled it around a slick of lime green paint, decided there wasn¡¯t anything inside worth getting covered in paint, and pulled it back, wiping it mostly clean on the stainless steel hallway outside.

    ¡°Do either of you recognise anyone in the paintings?¡± Sue asked.

    The girls all looked again. The paintings were of every combination of age, sex, and race.

    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± said Michelle, ¡°and I¡¯d rather regain my memories by literally any method other than staring at naked people.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll hit puberty eventually,¡± Sue said sympathetically.

    ¡°You¡¯ll get standards eventually. A guy¡¯s alright to look at if he¡¯s between about fifteen and thirty. That¡¯s maybe a fifth of these, and half are girls anyway. Back me up here, Lottie.¡±

    ¡°I think this room probably doesn¡¯t have any warm clothing,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± said Sue, ¡°that was what we wanted, wasn¡¯t it.¡±

    They left, sliding the door shut behind.

    ¡°Could this be some sort of apocalypse vault?¡± Michelle said. ¡°Maybe there was a nuclear war on the surface, and everyone was rushed down here and put into cold sleep for until the fallout decayed. But there was an earthquake or something, and now the machinery is failing?¡±

    ¡°I guess it fits,¡± Sue said, shrugging. ¡°But I still don¡¯t remember anything. Lottie, what do you think?¡±

    Charlotte shut her eyes and breathed deeply. Disjointed snatches of memory came to her. ¡°There was something. I¡¯m not sure it was nuclear war, but some big disaster. We had to bring everyone here to escape, but not everyone could fit, so we ¡­ did some clever trick to get around that, I don¡¯t remember what.¡± She opened her eyes. When she was properly awake, they were naturally wide enough to make the rest of her look small by comparison, brown flecked with irregular spots of orange. ¡°There should still be more people than this. Thousands at least. But it¡¯s so empty.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re probably all in cold sleep,¡± Michelle said. ¡°That¡¯d be the trick; you could cut out a lot of life support that way. Let¡¯s keep looking.¡±

    They quietly walked along to the next door. It was hard to make out in the gloom, but when Charlotte ran her hands over it, she realised it was covered in thick foam.

    ¡°?¡± she said.

    Michelle felt it with the back of her hand, shrugged, and opened the door.

    The corridor was almost tomblike in its silence, but when the door opened, they were met by a blast of noise so loud that it made Charlotte jump and squeak; after a few seconds, it resolved itself into the sound of a club dance song with a bone-shaking bass track. Through the door was a square room. It was divided into large tiles, sixteen by sixteen, all backlit in blinking neon colours; this made it brighter than outside, but still very dark. At the far end was a bar. A man sat at it, his back to them. The girls exchanged glances, tried and failed to talk over the music, and entered.

    Sue waved the others on ahead and turned to the side of the room, where a laptop was plugged into a speaker network. With some fiddling, she found the volume control and turned it down until she could hear herself speak. The man turned to look; from the side, they could see that his back was badly curved. Charlotte hesitated a moment, leaving Michelle to take the lead.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she said with her sweetest smile. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry to interrupt you ¨C you weren¡¯t in the middle of anything, were you? ¨C but my friends and I were wondering if you could give us a little help?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said without any hesitation, and he turned back around. Closer to, they could see that he was nursing a glass of what was probably beer.

    Michelle¡¯s smile slipped, and she cracked the knuckles of one hand. Charlotte and Sue gave her questioning looks. She rolled her shoulders, hitched her fake smile back into place, and sat beside the hunchbacked man.

    ¡°You see, we¡¯ve all got a little bit of memory loss,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t happen to know where we are, do you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°No you don¡¯t know, or no you won¡¯t tell us?¡± Sue asked.

    Michelle shot her a look of ¡®shut up, don¡¯t ruin this¡¯; Sue replied with ¡®ruin what?¡¯; Michelle softened into ¡®fair point.¡¯ This all took less than two seconds.

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t tell you,¡± said the man. He took a long drink.

    ¡°So you¡¯re being unhelpful on purpose,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Are you just that desperate for attention, or do you think we¡¯ll leave you alone faster if you don¡¯t get what you want?¡±

    He kept drinking for a few more seconds before setting his glass down. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot child who doesn¡¯t know a thing about what¡¯s going on,¡± he said.

    Michelle bristled, ¡®idiot child¡¯ being among the most aggravating phrases in modern English, but Charlotte pressed forward. ¡°Please. We need help. Can¡¯t you at least tell us what this place is called?¡±

    He glanced at her and returned to his drink. In the dark, she couldn¡¯t be absolutely sure, but his expression looked guilty. He knows me. ¡°It¡¯s called The Aquinas.¡±

    ¡°Was that really so hard?¡± Michelle said. The hunchback ignored her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to bother you, really,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Do you know anyone here who speaks Spanish?¡± He said nothing. ¡°Or at least where to find some warmer clothes?¡±

    He harrumphed, like she¡¯d asked him to give her a kidney. ¡°Go outside, door on the ceiling with a white circle on it.¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± he said, ¡°and don¡¯t come back.¡±

    They turned to leave. He stomped over to the computer to turn the volume up; deafeningly loud dubstep chased them out of the room. Sue clicked the door shut behind, drowning out the music.

    ¡°You should have let me go at him longer,¡± Michelle said. ¡°He would have broken eventually.¡±

    ¡°Eventually is a big word,¡± Sue said. ¡°Would it have been worth it? He was a pretty big douche.¡±

    ¡°We still have no idea where we are.¡±

    ¡°If there are people around, we¡¯ll find someone nicer sooner or later,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Let¡¯s go find those clothes.¡±

 Craft 2

    ¡°Speaking of nice people,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°don¡¯t either of you have any brothers? Or sisters?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Sue said. ¡°We are the sisters. Three older brothers, though.¡±

    ¡°One little one,¡± said Michelle. ¡°He¡¯s a total brat. If you¡¯re trying to think of other people we could try to defrost, try harder.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°He¡¯s still your brother ¡­¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we want to have him with us,¡± Michelle replied. ¡°Trust me, he¡¯ll slow us down, whine the entire time, and probably break something important at the most inconvenient time possible. Not everyone has sugar, spice, and everything nice in their very genes. Right, Sue?¡±

    ¡°Siblings are jerks,¡± Sue agreed. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you not to look for any of mine, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯re around anyway.¡±

    Charlotte frowned. ¡°Well we¡¯re still getting my brother out.¡±

    ¡°No complaints here,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Speaking of which ¡­¡±

    They looked up. There was a hatch on the ceiling with a white circle on it. Directly underneath it was a trampoline built into the floor. There was no ladder here.

    ¡°This is going to be so stupid,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°This,¡± Sue said, ¡°is going to be so awesome!¡±

    She bounded forward joyfully and bounced off, aiming for the hatch; she tumbled in midair, fumbled, and splatted onto the edge of the trampoline, rolling off onto the floor.

    Charlotte ran over and squeezed her hand. ¡°Sue! Are you okay? Can you hear me?¡±

    Sue was laughing maniacally. She tried to compose herself enough to speak, but only burst into a fresh round of giggles.

    Michelle facepalmed. She looked at Sue, then at Charlotte, decided they could sort themselves out, and went onto the trampoline. She bounced three times, building height, and leapt for the hatch¡¯s door. She snagged it and swung in space, before her momentum twisted the latch and it swung open, revealing what looked like a literal ton of small tubs of butter.

    She had only a fraction of a second to stare in sheer horror before it dropped, knocking her from the hatch onto the trampoline, where the butter splattered like a bomb. Sue took a few globs across her face and gown; she took one look at Michelle and began laughing even harder.

    Charlotte ran over and swatted the butter away. ¡°Michelle! Are ¡­¡±

    Michelle lay face-up, coated with butter, with the most world-weary expression Charlotte had ever seen. ¡°I wish I could remember the life decisions that led up to this point,¡± she said, ¡°so that I¡¯d know which ones to regret the most. This is not funny, Sue. This will never be funny.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be bitter,¡± Sue said between peals of laughter, ¡°be better!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the kind of wordplay that makes people batter you,¡± Michelle said. She sighed and sat up, butter flaking off with each movement. ¡°Speaking of acts of violence, I¡¯m going back to the music room and beating that guy¡¯s face in. You guys want to help?¡±

    ¡°Um, do we have to?¡± Charlotte said. ¡°We¡¯ve already spent a lot of time doing things that aren¡¯t getting my brother back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good point,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Having a guy along would make it much easier.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t my point at all,¡± said Charlotte.

    Michelle wrung out her hair and tried to brush the butter off, but it was far too oily and clung to her body and gown. ¡°It¡¯s open to interpretation. They say the greatest works of art are always a little ambiguous.¡± She suddenly noticed that, off to the side, lay two heavy woollen blankets; they hadn¡¯t been there a minute ago, so they must have fallen out of the hatch with all the butter. ¡°Huh? Who leaves blankets in a butter booby trap?¡±

    Charlotte ran the phrase ¡®butter booby trap¡¯ through her mind a few times. Nope, still weird.

    Michelle walked over, picked one up, and began towelling herself off. With the work of a few minutes, she managed to get off the bulk of the butter off. She tossed the blanket to Charlotte, who wiped her hands on it, and took the second, experimentally wrapping it around herself like a cloak. ¡°This is pretty thick,¡± she said. ¡°I think it¡¯ll be warm enough.¡±

    Sue finally picked herself up. ¡°That doesn¡¯t look like we¡¯ll all fit under it,¡± she said. She took the butter-soiled blanket from Charlotte and tried to clean herself off, but it was hard to find any part of it still clean enough.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°We¡¯ve warmed up walking around, and we can take turns under it if we have to. I just don¡¯t want to waste any more time without waking up my brother.¡±

    They made their way back over to the cold sleep room. Now that Charlotte was properly awake, she keenly felt the bitter cold biting straight through the thin fabric of her gown. It struck her to wish she had been hit by the butter: it would probably keep her warmer.

    Michelle threw the blanket over them, taking the middle, and the three of them crouched in front of the empty sleep pod, whose plastic top was still open from when Charlotte had come out. Charlotte and Sue huddled into Michelle¡¯s side for warmth and tugged at the blanket, wishing it were larger. They stared at the console on its side, the Spanish labels no more illuminating than before, until Michelle began pressing buttons, working her way from left to right. One beeped; the top folded itself shut, and the machine began humming.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°What if one of these buttons is, I don¡¯t know, a self-destruct?¡±

    ¡°Self-destruct?¡± Michelle repeated. ¡°On a cold sleep pod? What, for in case a passing battleship runs out of depth charges, and the captain decides that frozen people are clearly the ideal replacement explosive for the job?¡±

    Charlotte blushed. ¡°Okay, well, fine, but there could be other bad things that might happen. If thawing can possibly go wrong, which I think it could because it seems like a medical procedure and those can always go badly, then just pressing buttons at random might ¨C¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    There was a kachunk; the bottom of the pod rotated away, and another slid into place. In this one was a young man in the same gowns as the girls. He had dark brown hair, and was clean shaven. Michelle¡¯s eyes traced the curves of his biceps; he wasn¡¯t buff like a bodybuilder, but he had plenty of muscle mass on any adolescent girl.

    ¡°That¡¯s him!¡± Charlotte said, leaning forward. She stayed there a moment before pulling away, and had to rub her chilled hands to get feeling back. ¡°Okay. How do you wake him up?¡±

    ¡°Last time, I¡¯m pretty sure it was this button,¡± Michelle said, pushing it.

    Nothing happened.

    ¡°Or maybe this one?¡±

    A cool, polite, automated man¡¯s voice said a few sentences in Spanish.

    ¡°I think I caught ¡®por favor¡¯ at the end of that,¡± Sue said.

    Michelle pressed another button; the machine cycled him out and Charlotte¡¯s empty pod back in. Grunting in irritation, she brought him back.

    ¡°I anticipate this taking longer than we¡¯d hoped,¡± Sue said.

    Michelle opened her mouth to snap at her, but caught herself. ¡°You know, you¡¯ve got a point. Since only one of us can really play with this at a time anyway, why don¡¯t the two of you go on ahead and keep looking for somebody to give us directions? There¡¯s no sense all of us freezing here, and even after I find the button, it¡¯ll take thirty minutes for him to thaw anyway.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Does it really take that long?¡±

    Sue looked at Michelle. ¡°Yes. Yes it does.¡±

    ¡°Well, even so, I don¡¯t mind waiting,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°And I don¡¯t think we should split up. Won¡¯t you get lonely here, all by yourself? Or scared? This place is a little creepy.¡±

    ¡°No, because I¡¯m not a wimp. Seriously, it¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll take care of getting him out of there, and you¡¯ll both take care of getting out of here. Or at least finding out what it is. The Aquinas? What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t he some saint or other?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Something like that, but who names an underground apocalypse bunker after a saint?¡±

    Sue considered this. ¡°If it were me, I¡¯d probably call it Zion, like in The Matrix. Or Eden or Jericho or something. Maybe not Jericho.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. So someone has to find out, before the walls start tumbling down.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m convinced,¡± Sue said, taking Charlotte¡¯s hand. ¡°Good luck with popsicle duty.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the idea,¡± Michelle said.

    Charlotte and Sue returned to the corridor. ¡°That was nice of her,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°Helping is its own reward.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. Where should we look?¡±

    ¡°Just walk and knock on every door, I guess.¡±

    They went along and soon came to a waist-high cat flap on their right. Charlotte hesitated, her inner critic wondering whether anyone who chose to hide behind a cat flap would be particularly reliable, but Sue pushed on, so she bent over and followed her in.

    Inside was similar to the paint room, except that it was full of board games. They had been stacked in neat piles, but some had been knocked over, their lids askew and pieces spilling out across the carpeted floor. There seemed to be a ridiculous number of chess sets, their designs similar but mostly not quite identical, but there were also backgammon, Monopoly, plastic tubs of Lego, and a huge number of newer titles, mostly in Spanish or Mandarin. There was even a stack of boxes of D&D miniatures, along with rulebooks and what were probably blank character sheets scattered around one corner. Loose playing cards covered the green-carpeted floor.

    ¡°Nobody¡¯s here,¡± Charlotte said, feeling a little stupid as she did because of how obvious it was.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Sue, ¡°I was just thinking. When a school or a shop or somewhere has a cache of games like this, they usually have a checkout sheet, so you can borrow one without the owner worrying that you¡¯ll steal it. If there¡¯s something like that here ¨C¡±

    There was a sudden jolt, and the room shifted sideways, like a giant had given it a shove. Charlotte squeaked as she and Sue lost their footing and fell into a stack of games, which gave way and spilled out over the floor, deepening the mess on the floor.

    ¡°Ow,¡± said Sue. ¡°Was that an earthquake?¡±

    ¡°I think those are supposed to last longer,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Still, though ¡­ whatever it was, it might have done some damage. Should we go check on Michelle?¡±

    ¡°Uh, better not. She¡¯ll yell at us for wasting time.¡±

    ¡°She might be hurt. If she banged her head against the pod ¡­¡±

    Sue waved this aside. ¡°She¡¯s tough. Besides, that probably wasn¡¯t the first earthquake or whatever it was, what with all the spilled games and paint, and if there are going to be more shocks, all the more reason to find a way out quickly.¡±

    ¡°Hrm,¡± Charlotte said disapprovingly, but she let Sue lead her out of the games room and further along the steel-and-stone corridor.

    The next door was thick steel, painted with ominous yellow radiation symbols and secured with a crossbar. Charlotte and Sue exchanged sceptical looks.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to waste time walking past doors that might have people behind them,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°but I get a bad feeling about this one.¡±

    ¡°Anyone chosing to lurk inside a room full of radiation is probably not someone we really want to meet anyway,¡± Sue agreed. ¡°We should be looking for the kind of person who goes to a dance club and stuffs cubby holes with metric tons of butter. I mean, not that one guy specifically, but we were on the right track.¡±

    They came up to a plywood door with a gold-rimmed plaque reading ¡®Admisiones¡¯. Charlotte walked up and knocked.

    Sue giggled. ¡°You¡¯re precious, you know that?¡±

    Charlotte huffed. ¡°Well if there was someone in there, it¡¯d only be polite. We ought to try to make a good first impression.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s look around anyway.¡±

    Inside were rows upon rows of filing cabinets, each row labelled by a letter of the alphabet. The room should have been brightly lit by rows of overhead fluorescents, but only about a quarter were still on, and half of those were flickering. There were tables stacked with stationery and pens; a broken laptop lay on bare floorboards beside one. Stray bits of paper littered the floor. Sue bent over, picked one up, and held it to the light.

    ¡°Miguel Sanchez, clase de economia,¡± she read. ¡°I¡¯d¡¯ve thought that that meant economy class, but since when do apocalypse bunkers have tickets?¡± She read a few more. ¡°These are all the same. Different names, all Spanish I think, clase de economia.¡±

    ¡°I think this isn¡¯t a bunker,¡± Charlotte said. She brought one hand up to rub her temple as a pulse of forgotten information flowed behind it. ¡°My memories are slowly getting clearer. We didn¡¯t come here to hide; we came here to escape. It¡¯s not a bunker,¡± she said again, ¡°it¡¯s a vessel, the SS Aquinas. We¡¯re refugees.¡±

    Sue leant out into the corridor. ¡°Big vessel,¡± she said. ¡°Big, weird vessel. What are we running from? Where are we going to?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember those yet.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel or hear anything that could be an engine,¡± Sue said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s broken down? And Michelle and I are supposed to fix it?¡±

    Charlotte walked further into the room. ¡°There must be a generator still working somewhere if there are lights. Maybe it¡¯s solar powered. Or maybe it¡¯s too far away from here for any vibrations to reach us.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re really lucky, maybe it¡¯s something like a few fuses blew out,¡± Sue said. ¡°I could probably replace that quickly. Upside of having three brothers is you can¡¯t help but learn a little about machinery. What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in here,¡± Charlotte said. She had opened the cabinet labelled A. ¡°Charlotte Abercrombie, clase de negocios.¡±

    ¡°Negocios?¡± Sue came over to read over her shoulder. ¡°Like negotiate. That must mean business class. I didn¡¯t know you were a one-percenter.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I.¡± She put the ticket back and, on a whim, looked around a little more, and found two others under the same surname. ¡°Roger Abercrombie, clase de negocios. That makes sense. April Abercrombie, clase de obrera. What does obrera mean?¡±

    ¡°Sober, spelt by someone who isn¡¯t? No idea. Who¡¯s April?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s my mother,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°I think ¡­ I think she¡¯s working here.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll meet her,¡± Sue said. ¡°It¡¯s hard to work while in cold sleep. What is she, like an exec or something? Chief scientist?¡±

    ¡°You really like anime,¡± Charlotte mused, then blushed. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think so. I think she¡¯s just a regular worker. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to ¡­¡±

    Sue laughed again and ruffled her hair, making it stick in all directions. ¡°Have I ever told you that you¡¯re precious?¡± Charlotte pulled away and patted her hair straight. ¡°You¡¯re right, it was a dumb question. Come on. Michelle¡¯s surname is Bright. Check under that for any of her family, and I¡¯ll do mine, and then we¡¯ll keep looking.¡±

 Craft 3

    The girls pressed on. The next door was painted azure, decorated with smiling sea creatures like one might find in a nursery.

    ¡°This looks promising,¡± Charlotte said, twisting the knob.

    An explosion from the other side blew the door to pieces and knocked her staggering and Sue sprawling. Something like a very large firework blasted through, pulled a hairpin turn, and vectored down the corridor, ricocheting off the walls and throwing sparks, its roar fading into the distance.

    Charlotte stared after it for a moment, then turned and hurried over to Sue. She was covered in sawdust and paint chips, and a graze along her cheek was bleeding.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡± She ineffectually tugged at the hem of her gown, then bit it and tore a strip off to try to clean the cut as well as she could.

    Sue lay there, dazed. ¡°What just happened ¡­ and how is there not a scratch on you?¡±

    Charlotte ran her free hand over herself, then checked it. No blood or other mess. ¡°I was a little off to the side. Do you think you can stand? I don¡¯t think this dress is actually very sterile.¡±

    Sue winced. ¡°Give me a hand?¡± Charlotte helped pull her up. ¡°Thanks. Seriously, though, what was that? I saw a white flash, then ¨C¡±

    There was a distant noise like a very loud car door slamming, and the noise of the firework thing abruptly cut off. The girls whirled, and Sue swayed until Charlotte steadied her. There came five more slams in rapid succession.

    ¡°Is that ¡­¡± Charlotte began.

    A man¡¯s voice called out from the same direction. ¡°Is there someone there?¡±

    More memories clicked into place, and she could see snatches of him in her mind¡¯s eye. Dark hair and eyes, buzz cut, a crisply ironed suit that strained against his broad shoulders. Huge and powerful, easily twice her weight; a warrior rather than a bodybuilder, with solid, lean musculature that could have made him a graceful ballet dancer if he had chosen a peaceful life. Accompanying the image and his voice was the knowledge of what he could do, what would happen if he caught her, a primal fear with only one response: get away.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Sue called, ¡°we¡¯re over ¨C¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Charlotte hissed, shaking Sue¡¯s arm. ¡°No, not him ¡­¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Don¡¯t we want him to come to us? He might know something.¡±

    He could undoubtedly run either girl down, and fighting him was right out. That left hiding. Even in the gloom, their starched white gowns would stick out like billboards.

    ¡°In here,¡± Charlotte said, darting into the room. ¡°Drat everything!¡±

    Inside were rows upon rows of glass aquariums. Inside each was a rocket, as long as a baseball bat and slightly thicker, with what looked like a live octopus strapped to the rocket¡¯s nose, all partially submerged in water. Metal bands with electrodes were wrapped around their tentacles, with wires leading back to their rockets. One aquarium near the front was smashed and empty. The octopuses were wriggling slightly, apparently watching them with detached interest. The walls were painted soothing blues and greens; a speaker somewhere was playing a relaxing track of waves and whale song, interspersed with the squawking of seagulls.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± said Sue, looking around, but she put her questions about the room on hold for a moment. ¡°Lottie, do you know that guy? Is he dangerous? I can¡¯t tell, you¡¯re so lame at swearing.¡±

    ¡°Yes, he is. Help me look.¡±

    They split up and went down different aisles. Sue reached gingerly toward one octopus as she passed, touching the glass of its aquarium; it reached a tentacle out to touch the same spot, and a red LED on the rocket went on. She hurriedly pulled her hand back. ¡°What are we looking for?¡±

    ¡°Something like ¡­ this.¡±

    The wall on their right had a half-cylinder cut out, opening to a tube leading up and down with metal rungs in the far side, an access shaft. Cool air filtered out from it.

    ¡°Up or down?¡± Sue asked.

    Charlotte leaned into the shaft. It was lit by cool blue lights, extending a long way in either direction. She repressed a swoop of vertigo, seeing how far down they could fall. She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d have the stamina to climb all the way to the top, but if they went down, he¡¯d be above them. She had a mental image of him dropping down and using Sue to break his fall. ¡°Up. You go first.¡±

    ¡°No, you go. I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±

    Charlotte took the first rung and began pulling herself up, unwilling to leave Sue behind even though she knew, intellectually, that it would be better to hurry up so she wouldn¡¯t be in the way. Sue cast around for the heaviest object in the room that was still light enough for her to throw, and spotted a metal folding chair. She collapsed it so it was easier to hold, then brought it down, up, and let go; it sailed through the air and smashed into a stack of aquariums. The octopuses inside panicked and activated their rockets; they promptly blasted into the next stack, startling those octopuses too.

    ¡°Gogogogogo!¡± Sue screamed, barely audible over the deafening noise of thirty or more rockets all going off at once.

    She staggered slightly as she reached the shaft, still dizzy from the blast earlier. Charlotte hooked herself into the ladder, swung out to the side, and put her hand under Sue¡¯s bottom to push her upward. Sue didn¡¯t argue the point any more and just climbed, Charlotte soon following behind.

    The chain reaction of octopus rockets had spilled out into the main corridor, which would hopefully buy them a little time. After a minute, the noise began dying down, punctuated by more gunshots.

    ¡°Please hurry,¡± Charlotte pled, not saying it loud enough for Sue to hear.

    Luck was on their side. Only a few metres up, there was an alcove with a glass door to an elevator. Sue fell against it, slapping at the button, and the door slid open; she slumped against the floor. Charlotte glanced down; it was the perfect moment to see a huge human shape leap out from the doorway and onto the ladder. She darted into the elevator and hit the close button. There were three floors labelled, 1 through 5, with 3 coloured to indicate their current location; she made to press 5, then thought better of it and chose 1 instead, hoping to confuse him.

    To her irritation, the elevator began going up anyway. ¡°What? No, you ¨C ridiculous thing, I want you to go down!¡± She hammered the button, without effect.

    Sue snickered. ¡°That¡¯s what he said.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you know that would be there, anyway?¡± She was a little singed from the rocket exhaust, and looked like she needed nothing more than a solid ten hours¡¯ sleep. ¡°An elevator stop somewhere other than on a floor is not standard architectural design.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Charlotte said, sitting down opposite her and tickling her with her toes. ¡°I thought we¡¯d have to just keep climbing. Sorry; I didn¡¯t realise how tired you were.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I got exhausted.¡± She snickered again. ¡°Pun intended. But I meant, how¡¯d you know the shaft would be there at all.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that either. I don¡¯t remember anything about the layout of this place. I was actually hoping there¡¯d be a cubby hole or somewhere we could hide.¡±

    Sue blinked. ¡°If you wanted to hide, why not run to the ticket room, empty out a cabinet, and hide in there? Or we could have buried ourselves under like three hundred board games or tins of paint. It might not have worked, but it¡¯d be something.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°obviously I would¡¯ve ¡­ look, I panicked, okay? He¡¯s scary.¡±

    ¡°No kidding. Who is that guy?¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know his real name. He calls himself Mr Truth.¡± She let her head tilt back and her vertebrae click. ¡°He works for the Tchaipros Agency. He¡¯s the operative assigned to my file.¡±

    ¡°And they want to ¨C what, kidnap you?¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm. It¡¯s very inconvenient.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being pretty blas¨¦ about it, compared with sixty seconds ago,¡± Sue observed.

    ¡°I¡¯m still scared, but I¡¯m used to it. They¡¯ve been after me for years. I don¡¯t want to let it control my life, so I try not to make a fuss when I don¡¯t have to.¡±

    Sue raised her eyebrows. ¡°So who are they? Why are they after you?¡±

    Charlotte shrugged. ¡°My memory¡¯s still fuzzy and I never really understood it in the first place, but I think the root problem is people thinking they know what¡¯s best for you when they don¡¯t. It¡¯s not that they¡¯re bad people, they try to put themselves into your shoes and think what they¡¯d want someone to do for them, but you can¡¯t ever have the full picture of another person¡¯s entire life, and if you don¡¯t, how can you know you haven¡¯t come to the wrong conclusion?¡±

    Sue looked at her for a moment longer, nonverbally prompting her to elaborate, but she left it at that. ¡°I guess you can¡¯t. What¡¯s the plan, then? If we¡¯re on a ship, this is a classic closed circle scenario. How can we get away from him?¡±

    Charlotte chewed a knuckle. ¡°We can¡¯t just keep running around forever. He¡¯ll catch us eventually. Or we¡¯ll accidentally blow the ship up first,¡± she added, wondering whether there were any more rocket octopuses around, and why for that matter there had been any in the first place. Art supplies, board games, rocket squids. If there¡¯s a pattern, I don¡¯t see it. ¡°I don¡¯t think he was a refugee. I think he probably has a small, personal craft of his own docked to this one. He wants to get me to that, then return to the Agency. It doesn¡¯t make sense to kidnap me if we¡¯re both stuck here going to where I would have gone anyway, right? So ¡­ if we disabled his boat, he¡¯d have to give up. Or we could trick him into going onto it and leaving without me ¡­¡±

    ¡°This is a big ship,¡± Sue said. ¡°Maybe it has a security system we can sic on him? Or we could try waking up everyone and dog-piling him. He can¡¯t stand up to everyone at once.¡±

    Charlotte considered it. ¡°We could try, but I¡¯d rather not. Tchaipros is big and powerful enough that I wouldn¡¯t trust that they haven¡¯t got someone to tamper with any security systems; they might even turn on us. And I don¡¯t want to get into a fight. Is that ever a good idea? Especially when it¡¯s with someone who¡¯s better at fighting than you?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Well, we could at least look around.¡±

    The glass door slid open, revealing a metal grate and a short corridor before a ninety degree turn. There came irregular sounds from further in that Charlotte couldn¡¯t identify: weird, but not threatening. She made to help Sue up again, and they both bounced and almost hit the ceiling.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± She jumped again experimentally, and touched the ceiling easily. ¡°Is this low-gravity or something?¡± She fanned the air; it felt about the same as usual. ¡°It¡¯s not just thicker air.¡±

    Sue hopped from one leg to the other, much higher than she could normally jump. ¡°I think so? I mean, I have no idea what low gravity feels like, but either my muscles are a lot stronger or I¡¯m a lot lighter. Did it gradually happen without us noticing for the entire elevator ride, or was it sudden?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember. I wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡± She glanced back at the elevator. ¡°Come on. Mr Truth isn¡¯t far behind.¡±

    They walked on and rounded the corner. Ahead was a huge room housing what looked like an obstacle course, with monkey bars, tyres, and rope webs connecting twenty plastic platforms to each other.

    There were eight trampolines scattered around. A girl was bouncing from one to another, giggling and clearly having the time of her life; she was somersaulting, kicking off the walls and ceiling, twisting around the ropes, entirely oblivious to the kinematics of her skirt, enjoying the low gravity for all it was worth. The sounds were her jumping on the trampolines and pulling against the ropes.

    She presently saw Charlotte and Sue; she caught a bar, spun around it one final time, and dropped to the floor. She straightened her skirt and watched them with interest, not saying anything. She stopped laughing, but couldn¡¯t entirely wipe the grin from her face.

    ¡°Um, hello,¡± Charlotte said nervously. ¡°Would you mind helping us?¡±

    The girl was actually a few years older than them. She was slightly taller and, her giggles notwithstanding, had an air of maturity. Charlotte felt that if she were around, nobody would ever dare dump butter on anyone. She had glasses, brown hair in a ponytail, and wore a light grey jacket and dark grey knee skirt, over a skintight black bodysuit that covered everything below her neck.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. Her voice was very soft. ¡°What do you need?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a man chasing us. He¡¯s probably a few minutes behind. Do you have anywhere we can hide?¡±

    The young woman considered this for a moment, then nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a bit dangerous, but I have an idea. Follow me, please.¡±

    She led them through a doorway to a small antechamber with a metal sliding door and row of lockers. She opened three, revealing two more bodysuits and three fishbowl helmets with clear visors and antennae. ¡°You¡¯ll have to change into these.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be hurrying?¡±

    ¡°Trust me.¡± She turned around. ¡°If either of you are modest.¡±

    Sue and Charlotte exchanged glances, but arguing about it would take longer than changing. The bodysuits didn¡¯t breathe well at all, but they were still cool and contoured to their bodies. They still didn¡¯t have shoes, but the soles had thick padding.

    ¡°This feels vaguely pornographic,¡± Sue said, checking Charlotte out.

    ¡°You say that about everything,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°I suppose they¡¯re flattering,¡± the woman said, looking down at her hips, ¡°but they¡¯re a little too difficult to remove. Helmets on, please.¡±

    The helmets were bulky and unwieldy. The woman had to help them adjust them, then deal with a bundle of catches that could secure them to a bodysuit¡¯s collar.

    As they were finishing, there came the sound of pounding footsteps, and Mr Truth shouting, ¡°Where are you?!¡±

    The woman pressed a button beside the metal door to open it, revealing a cramped room like an elevator. She walked in and beckoned them to follow, then pressed another button, sealing the door behind them. Machinery began humming, and they felt prickling on their skin.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Charlotte asked, but her voice echoed strangely in her ears.

    The woman tapped the antenna on her helmet and motioned for the girls to do likewise.

    ¡°Headsets,¡± she explained. ¡°Nobody can hear you in space. Or an airlock.¡±

    The opposite wall opened up to reveal blackness studded by a million pinpricks of light.

    ¡°,¡± said Charlotte.

    ¡°Do you like it?¡± asked the woman.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡±

    In front of them was an infinite expanse of black space punctuated by the brilliant glow of the Milky Way. Without an atmosphere to blur the stars together, they were a perfect road of point lights stretching across the galaxy, slowly spinning as they watched.

    The girls walked out onto a short balcony extending just past the airlock door. Below and above them was a vast structure of white and grey; scaffolds, domes, antennae, flags, and other irregularities on a great circular surface. There was plastic, or metal, or chunks of rock, all slapped together in a haphazard patchwork. They were slightly below the middle, which housed a huge pipe pointing up into space.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She looked around idly. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t stay out for too long. Space is dangerous, and these suits aren¡¯t indestructible. Radiation and micrometeoroids. And that man will figure out where you went sooner or later. Where do you want to go?¡±

    ¡°Can we get to anywhere on the ship from here?¡±

    ¡°Anywhere there¡¯s an access airlock. That¡¯s not much of a restriction, though: they¡¯re all over the place. I don¡¯t have a detailed map on me, but I do have a general idea of where most important areas are. Civilians and civilian areas are in the middle with Earth gravity; most of engineering is here in the middle with low gravity; terraforming machinery is on the rim. There¡¯s a second half to the spacecraft on the other side from here, that doesn¡¯t rotate, so no artificial gravity; there¡¯s more engineering over there, mostly relating to the scoops if I have it right. I¡¯m fairly sure that¡¯s actually the front, and we¡¯re standing on the back. That¡¯s the main engine there.¡±

    ¡°The scoops?¡± Charlotte repeated.

    ¡°I¡¯m not an engineer myself,¡± the woman admitted, ¡°but I gather that the ship is going through deep space. There¡¯s gas and dust in the way, which would normally slow us down, but we have scoops on the front. They gather it all and use it. The gas is fused for energy, the dust is ejected as reaction mass, and we incorporate any rocks into the superstructure.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going, then?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Our memories went fuzzy from cold sleep, and we haven¡¯t fully got them back yet.¡±

    ¡°I have some ideas, but is this really the time to be discussing them? Time is against you.¡±

    ¡°Where should we go?¡± Charlotte asked Sue. ¡°Double back to Roger and Michelle, then try to find a docking bay and see what Mr Truth came in, and maybe get an idea of how to deal with him?¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± Sue said, shrugging. ¡°I don¡¯t have any better ideas.¡± She turned to the woman. ¡°So it¡¯s just down from here?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, ¡°about halfway. That red-and-yellow stripe there¡± she pointed ¡°marks the dividing line. Be careful. The way centripetal force works, effective gravity keeps increasing the further out you are, so if you go too far you might not be able to move. Obviously, don¡¯t jump off the craft,¡± she pointed out to the stars, ¡°or fall off the rim, because if you do, you¡¯ll fall for a very long time. The soles of these suits are magnetised, so you¡¯ll stick to the floor while you walk on iron, but don¡¯t push your luck and do anything too athletic. And don¡¯t dawdle. You only have so much air.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming with us?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°I could, if you want, but wouldn¡¯t you rather I stay here awhile and make sure this Mr Truth doesn¡¯t follow you?¡±

    ¡°But what about you? He wouldn¡¯t have a problem with throwing you out into space, I think.¡±

    ¡°He can try,¡± the woman said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m harder to kill than you¡¯d think.¡±

    ¡°I ¡­ why would you risk your life like that? I don¡¯t even know your name.¡±

    ¡°Julia Martin,¡± she said. ¡°Stick with Jill, though, Julia makes me sound like a Caesar wannabe. And don¡¯t worry about it. Really. I do this sort of thing all the time.¡±

    ¡°What, fisticuffs in interstellar space?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Are you going to argue the point, or are you going to rendezvous with your brother and friend?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Who said anything about a brother?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Your friend did just now,¡± Jill said. ¡°Are you going to argue that point instead?¡±

    The two younger girls exchanged glances.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°I hope we meet you again later.¡±

    ¡°You probably will,¡± Jill said. She began stretching. ¡°Seriously, though, you should stop drawing this out and hurry up. Radiation aside, your helmet¡¯s tank only has so much oxygen.¡±

    ¡°Right. Good luck!¡±

 Craft 4

    Jill sat cross-legged. She leant forward, bringing her face toward her feet; then extended one foot and wrapped her fingers round her heel, then the other one, feeling the limits of her body¡¯s flexibility. They compared favourably to the limits of her bodysuit.

    The airlock slid open again, and she kipped up. Mr Truth was even more imposing in a spacesuit than usual, the helmet adding to his height and the bodysuit hiding the faux civility of his suit. He was twenty centimetres taller than her and twice her weight, his muscles tight against his bodysuit. She was legitimately impressed that he¡¯d found one that fit him at all; they normally were tailored, and were very unforgiving of poor fit or changes in physique.

    She motioned to her antenna, and he took the hint and tapped his own.

    ¡°Good ¡­ evening?¡± she said, realising she had no idea what the time was.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± he replied. His voice was softer than she¡¯d expected, but just as deep. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a girl with auburn hair. I think she went this way. She might have had a friend with her.¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm. They went ahead. I don¡¯t think they like you.¡±

    Mr Truth reread her body language and realised that she was blocking him. ¡°She¡¯s in trouble,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯ll be best if she comes with me.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t seem to think so.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a kid. She doesn¡¯t understand what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Do you think you can explain it to me?¡± Jill asked rhetorically. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sharp, if I say so myself.¡±

    He glared. ¡°It¡¯s confidential.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Then I won¡¯t step aside.¡±

    He looked her up and down. ¡°I won¡¯t enjoy it, but I¡¯ll go through you if I have to.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯d win inside atmosphere,¡± she said, ¡°but are you sure you want to fight me here? One decent kick in the right place, and ¡­¡± She indicated the Milky Way.

    ¡°You¡¯re not heavy enough to move me.¡±

    ¡°I am if your balance is off. How much practice do you have moving at one-third gravity? I have lots.¡±

    He gave her a long look. She began counting her breaths. In hindsight, she probably should have checked how much oxygen her tank had earlier: there didn¡¯t seem to be an HUD or anything to indicate.

    ¡°You¡¯d better stay out of my way,¡± he said, and turned and went back into the airlock.

    A long way down, in some sense of the word, Charlotte and Sue were descending a ladder. Charlotte couldn¡¯t help looking down; she wasn¡¯t normally afraid of heights, but seeing a literal bottomless fall made her stomach flip. She looked up instead, but that made things worse. A rotating spacecraft has artificial gravity pointing radially outward, so she could see the tops of catwalks far above her; it inverted her sense of orientation, like she was dangling above them looking down. From their perspective, she was.

    ¡°Hey, Jill, you can still hear us, right?¡± Sue asked.

    There was a buzz. ¡°These are short range only. Too much radiation. I¡¯ll go quiet soon. What is it?¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any tethers on this ship, are there? I¡¯m not actually great at climbing.¡±

    ¡°There are probably some inside, but ¨C¡± There was a long burst of static.

    ¡°You¡¯re breaking up.¡±

    The static continued, then cut out.

    Sue sighed. ¡°Hey, Lottie?¡± she said. ¡°Can we take the next airlock we find? I¡¯m getting dizzy again.¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± Charlotte said. She reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped back to make room. Gravity was increasing the further down they went, back up to about half of normal. ¡°Do you want to stay here and rest for a bit while I look ahead?¡±

    Sue looked around. If she¡¯d been asked how excited she¡¯d be to be out in space at any other time, she would have said very, but now that she was out there, it was more ominous than she¡¯d expected. The Milky Way was beautiful, but here and now, it was a stark reminder of how very alone they were. There was dead silence except the radio and the creaking of their bodysuits; even their footfalls and the friction of their gloves against the ladder were felt rather than heard. At the same time, her air was getting uncomfortably humid, and she couldn¡¯t shake the worry that she was getting cancer.

    ¡°No. Don¡¯t tell Michelle I said this, but this is actually starting to creep me out.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s hurry, then.¡±

    The ladder had led to a cattle grid catwalk parallel to the spacecraft disc. Directly in front of them, the walkway ended abruptly, looking like it had been torn off; it continued a few metres further along and led to what looked like an airlock, but there was a dead drop of at least twenty metres under the gap, landing on an outcrop of shiny black-grey rock. A second path protruded out to their right and led to an antenna with a steel toolbox sitting beside it; they could see a pile of spanners inside. On their left was a wall of exposed circuit boards, power outlets, fuses, and other electronics. There was a short extension cable dangling from an outlet.

    ¡°Do you think you can make that jump?¡± she asked dubiously.

    Sue gave it a sceptical look. ¡°Honestly? Probably, but I don¡¯t want to. It¡¯s still low gravity, but I¡¯m not feeling that great. This feels like the setup for a Darwin Award.¡±

    Charlotte gave her a worried look, then focused on the extension cable. It wasn¡¯t long enough to tie across the gap and shimmy over, or to rappel down to the rock.

    ¡°Wait here,¡± she said.

    ¡°Are you going somewhere?¡±

    Charlotte lowered her centre of gravity and ran at the gap. It was hard to gauge it right. A normal gait involves pushing against the ground as hard as gravity pushes you toward it, so in half gravity, it¡¯s easy to bound rather than sprint. She didn¡¯t build as much speed as she wanted when she reached the lip of the catwalk, but it was too late to stop. She leapt for the other end.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    She didn¡¯t make it, but she did manage to grab the edge; her lower body continued forward and crunched into the catwalk from below. She swung in space for a few seconds before pulling herself up.

    ¡°Lottie,¡± Sue said, sitting down very suddenly, ¡°I want you to promise me that you¡¯ll never do that again.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to.¡± She bent over to catch her breath and let her heart slow. Nothing is quite like literally holding on for one¡¯s life.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re over, but I don¡¯t fancy my chances. What now?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, you wait here. There¡¯s got to be a tether inside the airlock.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say good idea,¡± Sue said, ¡°but after that jump, you have some bad idea karma to work off first. Splitting the party again is definitely a good start, though; it¡¯s never so split that you can¡¯t split it further.¡±

    Charlotte gave her a look.

    ¡°Seriously though, please go on,¡± Sue said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to suffocate out here.¡±

    The airlock had a simple handprint sensor to open. It was much quicker to re-pressurise and let her back in than it had been to let them out in the first place.

    Inside was another locker room. Most were either locked or empty, but she managed to find one with a coiled bungee cord in the bottom. She took it and doubled back.

    ¡°Ooh, space bungee jumping,¡± Sue said. ¡°I can finally cross that off my bucket list.¡±

    Charlotte tied one end to a hole in the catwalk, looped it around her waist, and threw the other end to Sue. She caught it, tied herself to it, swung over, and crashed into the catwalk.

    ¡°There¡¯s no air resistance,¡± Charlotte helpfully explained.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Sue said.

    They pulled her up, went back into the airlock, and collapsed onto the gym floor. They pulled off their helmets and stuffed them into a locker.

    ¡°Do you want to rest here for a bit?¡±

    Sue thought about it, clearly tempted. ¡°No. Just lying on the floor is not a good way to relax. Let¡¯s find somewhere I can get a real nap.¡±

    Charlotte had misgivings about this ¨C they¡¯d had enough trouble just getting a change of clothes ¨C but she nodded, stood up, and gave Sue her hand. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll luck out and find a pillow room.¡±

    ¡°When I¡¯m a grown-up, I¡¯m going to have one of those,¡± Sue said. ¡°My house will have a kitchen, a bathroom, and a pillow room. I might not even bother with the kitchen, I might just keep a microwave and instant noodles in the kitchen.¡±

    The locker room led to another long hall, curving upward in either direction like where they¡¯d been in cold sleep, but with a very different feel. It was covered in thick red carpet and lit by overhead fluorescents that managed to feel intimate rather than just not very good. There were irregular chunks of rock jutting out of the walls and ceiling, but here it was more private than forbidding. The reduced gravity made it all more surreal. A bass track sounded from hidden speakers, loud enough to dance to but not too loud to talk over.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like engineering,¡± Charlotte observed. ¡°I guess this counts as civilian? But I¡¯ve read that you¡¯re not supposed to spend too much time in low gravity, or your bones get weaker.¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s only if you¡¯re in zero gravity for weeks or months. We¡¯ll be fine. Let¡¯s look around. Hopefully there are no jetpack squids here.¡±

    They walked along and found a set of double doors. Charlotte shrugged, knocked, and pushed through. Inside was a bar. There were tables for different sized groups, long counters, and booths against the walls. The far wall was covered in wine bottles. A giant TV sat in one corner, showing a scene from My Little Pony, but unfortunately it was muted.

    As they entered, a hand reached up from behind the bar, and a woman pulled herself up by it. She was flushed and her balance was clearly off. She brushed dark brown hair out from her face and tried to focus on Charlotte, who¡¯d frozen.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said the woman uncertainly. ¡°Sh ¡­ Charlotte?¡±

    ¡°Hi, mum,¡± said Charlotte.

    Sue looked from one to the other. The resemblance was definitely there, notwithstanding that the mother April was twenty years older. Their faces were similar; it took a moment to spot that April had higher, more pronounced cheekbones and a slightly straighter nose. Their hair had the same shape, mostly straight but with a slight curl toward the ends, even though Charlotte¡¯s was definitely much redder. April was dressed in a black cocktail dress with a frilly white apron.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°I thought everyone was supposed to be in cold sleep.¡±

    ¡°I have to work. That¡¯s how I paid for our tickets.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s no-one here,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°I¡¯m paid hourly.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ve been awake since we set off?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going or what we¡¯re going away from, uh, Mrs Abercrombie?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Ms,¡± April said, slurring the sibilants, ¡°and yeah, kind of. There was an accident at a lab back on Earth that was cloning dinosaurs or something, so we set out on these ships. We¡¯re going to some star or other to make a new planet to live on. Charlotte, why are you out here?¡± she asked, only now remembering that she was supposed to still be asleep.

    ¡°The cold sleep¡¯s malfunctioning. People are waking up when they¡¯re not supposed to.¡±

    ¡°But why are you here? This floor is a grown-ups-only area, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Mum, please, this isn¡¯t the time.¡±

    ¡°I was thinking,¡± Sue said, ¡°if we¡¯re in space, maybe that bump from earlier was a small meteor hitting the ship? And maybe another one hit something important before I woke up? Do you know anything about it?¡±

    April shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they are, but they only started a couple hours ago.¡±

    Sue and Charlotte exchanged glances. ¡°It fits,¡± Charlotte offered. ¡°Maybe the scoops that Jill was talking about are supposed to have shock absorbers or something, and they¡¯ve worn out?¡±

    ¡°You should go back to sleep,¡± April said.

    ¡°If the ship¡¯s going through a meteor shower and the cold sleep or other systems are already breaking, going back in doesn¡¯t seem like the best idea,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°There must be some engineer types in cold sleep who we can wake up to fix the ship. Do you know where?¡±

    April gave a boneless shrug. ¡°Most of the people on this ship only speak Spanish, and barely any brought their bodies. It¡¯s almost all just brains.¡±

    There was a moment¡¯s pause while the girls tried to parse this.

    ¡°Just brains,¡± Sue repeated. ¡°What ¨C you mean they had their brains removed and sent separately?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s easier to fit them on a ship since they¡¯re not so heavy. Then once terraforming¡± she stumbled over the word ¡°is done, one of the,¡± she waved a hand around, less expressively than she thought, ¡°the things makes them new bodies that they stick the brains into. We get our original bodies because we have business and working class tickets.¡±

    The girls exchanged glances. Charlotte noticed Sue swaying on her feet.

    ¡°Priorities,¡± she said. ¡°Mum, do you have a mattress or something? Sue took a bad hit earlier.¡±

    ¡°This is the R&R area, sweetie, I have an entire cuddle puddle in the back room.¡±

    ¡°Okay, great. You should know that we have a friend reviving my brother, and Mr Truth is somewhere on the ship.¡± April blinked, alarmed. ¡°Roger¡¯s got to be awake by now. I¡¯m going to go and meet up with him and Michelle, bring them back here, and all of us together will work out a plan to deal with Mr Truth and the meteors.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re actually splitting the party again?¡± Sue asked. ¡°I was joking earlier.¡±

    Charlotte in fact didn¡¯t want to, but Sue had been dizzy for a while now, her mother was drunk, and neither should be left by herself. ¡°You¡¯re both sort of out of it. I¡¯ll be faster if I go alone, and better able to hide. Besides, I¡¯ll be with Roger and Michelle on the way back.¡±

    ¡°Bet she¡¯ll love having you back with him,¡± Sue undertoned.

    ¡°Beg pardon?¡±

    ¡°I said it¡¯s about time we got them back. Are you sure you want to go on your own?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. And it¡¯s only for a little while.¡± She hopped up onto the counter to hug April. ¡°Love you, Mum. Do you know the quickest way back to the cold sleep level?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an elevator nearby. It¡¯s a few doors along on the right. I know it when I see it, but I can¡¯t leave or my pay will be docked. There¡¯s an automatic checkout thing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. That sounds easy to find.¡± She slid off to hug Sue. ¡°See you soon. Sleep well.¡±

    ¡°Good luck,¡± Sue said. She tried to lift herself onto the counter too, but fumbled and staggered against it. ¡°Okay, that was a lot less cool than I¡¯d meant to do.¡±

    April lifted a hinged part of the bar and leant against her, leading her to the backroom. ¡°Love you, sweetie. Stay safe!¡±

 Craft 5

    Roger sat up in the cold sleep pod, fully alert at last, if a little drowsy. Michelle stood beside him, stretching, reaching as high as she could before bending over to touch her bare toes. He watched her for a minute before realising that, if he wasn¡¯t being vigorously active, it was still very cold.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, ¡°is it any warmer outside, do you know? Kind of freezing in here.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± she asked languidly. ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot. We¡¯d better go out anyway.¡±

    He followed her through the door. ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°It slipped my mind earlier, but I came here with some other people,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re waking everyone we can find; hopefully we¡¯ll get someone who knows what¡¯s going on. So we split up, but a few minutes later, there was something like an earthquake, and then I think I heard an explosion outside.¡±

    ¡°An explosion?¡± he repeated. ¡°You¡¯re just telling me this now?¡±

    ¡°I did tell them I¡¯d wait with you until you were properly warmed up. Besides, you know how they say you should never run toward an explosion? I figured I should at least wait until I had a guy with me. And, you know.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t argue with that, so they walked down the main hallway, instinctively keeping quiet and very close to each other, sometimes jostling one another in the twilight. A minute later, they came to a piece of wreckage. Roger nudged it closer to a patch of the glowing fungus for a better look. The biggest part was a twisted metal cylinder, together with fins, wires, bits of assorted electronics, and a mangled corpse of something biological, with lots of slimy tentacles and blubbery sinew strewn across the floor. On seeing the tentacles, Michelle leapt backward: this was worse than spiders.

    ¡°!¡± Roger choked out, skipping back and crashing into her. They struggled to keep their balance. ¡°What is this place?¡±

    ¡°We thought it was an apocalypse vault,¡± she said, eyes fixed on the thing on the ground, ¡°for a nuclear war or something, but okay, apparently it was actually a cyborg facehugger invasion. Honest mistake.¡±

    Roger looked along the corridor and saw more of them further along. ¡°Hang on. I think I see another in better condition.¡± Reluctantly, he approached one. ¡°¡­ These aren¡¯t aliens. These are squids or octopuses.¡±

    She followed and took a closer look of her own, then slumped. ¡°Neither of us admits this to any of the others. Deal?¡±

    ¡°Deal. Followup question, though, why are there squids and ¡­ exploded missiles? all over the floor?¡±

    ¡°Whoever was using them last clearly didn¡¯t put them away when they were done.¡±

    He gave her a look.

    ¡°I have no idea,¡± she admitted. ¡°I get the feeling Sue and Lottie went through here, though.¡±

    He blinked. ¡°Lottie ¡­ you mean Charlotte? My sister?¡±

    ¡°Did I forget to mention that earlier? I think I forgot to mention it earlier.¡±

    He gave her a dirty look.

    ¡°What?¡± she said innocently.

    He let out an irritated huff. ¡°Let¡¯s just find her.¡±

    They proceeded along the hall. At one point, they passed a destroyed door leading to a room full of shattered glass tanks and a huge cluster of broken rockets and dead octopuses; dead or not, Michelle flatly refused to get near it, which Roger was glad of, because he didn¡¯t want to go in either.

    ¡°My sister and that other girl,¡± he said. ¡°They didn¡¯t have a gun, did they?¡±

    ¡°No. Why?¡±

    In the light spilling out of the room, he¡¯d finally got a proper look at one of the rocket octopuses. He approached and fished a metal slug out from it, then held it up to the light. ¡°Because someone does.¡±

    Michelle put a hand to her temple. ¡°Ooh. That probably isn¡¯t good.¡±

    Roger thought for a moment. ¡°The other girl ¡­¡±

    ¡°Sue.¡±

    ¡°Right, Sue. Does she have any enemies, do you know?¡±

    Michelle blinked. ¡°You mean, like, girls who pull her hair enemies, or people who¡¯d attack her with jetpack squids enemies?¡±

    ¡°The latter. Or anyone who carries a gun.¡±

    ¡°What am I, a cowgirl? Nobody in a proper city carries a gun except a cop, and I don¡¯t know any cops. I¡¯ve barely ever even seen a gun, not counting video games and movies.¡±

    ¡°Because if she doesn¡¯t, then the gunman is probably looking for Charlotte,¡± he said, increasing his pace. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s found her, because we haven¡¯t run into Sue or any of Sue¡¯s blood, but he¡¯s clearly looking for her. And he has, what, a fifteen minute head start? Let¡¯s hurry.¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± said Michelle, uncertain about how wise it was to move toward a possibly hostile man with a gun, but she kept pace with him.

    They hurried down the corridor. The hall curved upward as they went, enough so that they couldn¡¯t see the light of the rocket room. Eventually the trail of destroyed rockets and octopuses petered out, leaving them in gloom. Presently, there came an irregular pounding sound. Michelle gave Roger a look of ¡®Are we really going toward that?¡¯, but he didn¡¯t look her way and kept going.

    They followed the sound to a circular steel door that was already ajar, and looked through. It opened to a huge gallery, full of crates and chunky machinery, lit by red emergency lighting, with rows of catwalks leading to different levels. There were two obvious vehicles among the piles of equipment. One was the size of a bus, shaped like a jelly bean, silver-grey, covered in exhaust nozzles, wings shaped like a fish¡¯s fins, sensor dishes, and other paraphernalia. On one side was stamped the word TCHAIPROSS. The other vehicle looked like a very fat three-storey-tall human, a two-legged mass of engines connected by cables. Roger briefly mistook it for a giant with bare muscles and sinews: they had the same layout as a human¡¯s musculature, and even looked pink in the red lights. It had a trowel for one hand and what looked like a giant ratchet spanner for the other. This one drew their attention first, because it was moving.

    Being so big and heavy, it made a racket, so they sneaked inside and hid behind a crate to observe it. It would use its right hand to help scoop a crate into its left, then turn and plod over to the far wall and slide the crate onto a raised platform with a row of others. Despite looking organic, it was quite clumsy; Roger had the impression that it wasn¡¯t really designed to be elegant, and its pilot wasn¡¯t particularly graceful either. It had an open cockpit for a head, but they couldn¡¯t make the pilot out properly in the bad light.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± Michelle asked, pitching her voice low.

    Roger watched the mech for a few more seconds. ¡°I think I want to take a look inside that ¡­ submarine thing? Whatever it is.¡±

    ¡°Hey, wait,¡± she said, catching his sleeve before he could move out of cover. ¡°Don¡¯t run off on some whim without saying what you¡¯re doing. That¡¯d be stupid and annoying.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°See the name on the side? That¡¯s the name of the organisation that¡¯s after my sister and used to be after me. I need to find out whether they¡¯ve got her on board.¡±

    He made to move out again, but she kept her hold. ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot. If she is, that guy¡¯s with them too. Do you want to fight a giant mecha without even having pants?¡±

    ¡°Pants are optional,¡± he said, tugging at his sleeve. He could yank away, but she¡¯d likely overbalance and make a noise that the walker¡¯s pilot would hear.

    She held fast. ¡°Agreed, but you¡¯re skating past the part with the giant mecha. What are you going to do, punch it?¡±

    ¡°Run around it, if it even sees me. That thing isn¡¯t anywhere near as nimble as a human.¡±

    ¡°This is the difference between boys and girls,¡± Michelle muttered with exasperation. ¡°Look over there.¡±

    She pointed at a near corner, where a steel table had a laptop open, its screen a conspicuous blue glow in the red-tinted room, plugged into a power outlet.

    ¡°I think we can make it over there without being seen,¡± she said. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, it¡¯ll have some more information before you go charging in like an idiot.¡±

    ¡°Okay, fine. Will you let me go already?¡±

    They waited until the mech turned around again to load another crate onto the platform, then ran over to the table. Michelle stopped behind a crate ten metres away, but Roger went right up to it. He yanked out the power cord and took the laptop, and it promptly gave a loud alert sound; the mech turned to face them, and he and Michelle turned and sprinted for the door. They made it through before the mech had taken three ponderous steps, skidding to a stop in the stone and steel hallway just outside.

    Michelle panted and glared at him. ¡°I meant that you¡¯d read it inside, so you wouldn¡¯t give yourself away,¡± she said.

    ¡°What, in thirty-second snatches while that guy was facing the other way?¡± Roger asked, reasonably in his mind. ¡°That would have taken ages and we probably would have slipped up and been caught anyway.¡± He flipped the computer over and read the screen. Luckily, it was just an alert that it had switched to battery power, rather than an anti-theft measure that might have locked the computer altogether.

    ¡°Are we not going to keep running from the giant mecha?¡±

    ¡°It can hardly fit through the door, and if he tries to punch through the wall, he¡¯ll bring the ceiling down on himself.¡± He was right; the sound of its great footsteps had stopped. ¡°Also, this isn¡¯t a Tchaipross operation. He¡¯s moving terraforming gear.¡±

    ¡°I ¨C what?¡± Michelle, surprised enough to drop her train of thought. ¡°Terraforming? Like in science fiction?¡±

    There came a burst of human-scale footsteps from inside the room. Roger quickly set down the laptop and got down into an athlete¡¯s crouch. A moment later, a man ran out the hatch; Roger tackled him, bringing them both to the ground with a crash. The two of them scuffled, until Michelle ran over and kicked the second man in the back. He gave a whoof and went limp enough for Roger to get on top and put him in a headlock.

    ¡°Ow! Uncle!¡±

    Roger loosened his grip, but kept it firm. ¡°Do you have Charlotte?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± asked the man.

    ¡°Small girl, dark red hair. One of Tchaipross¡¯s persons of interest.¡±

    ¡°Tchaipross? I¡¯m not with them.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a Tchaipross submarine in that room.¡±

    ¡°Submarine? That¡¯s a spaceship. We¡¯re in space. Do you both have amnesia?¡±

    Roger and Michelle exchanged glances, but they were hard to read in the gloom. ¡°I¡¯m no physicist,¡± said Michelle, ¡°but isn¡¯t space known for not having gravity?¡±

    ¡°The ship is spinning. It acts like a giant centrifuge. That¡¯s why the halls slope upward, see?¡±

    They looked around. That had been puzzling them both.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s accept that for now,¡± said Roger, leaving the thought abstract. ¡°There¡¯s a Tchaipross spaceship in that room. Aren¡¯t you working with them?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know they were a group. I just saw that and figured it was an acronym or company name or something. Who are they?¡±

    Roger let him go and stood up. ¡°Never mind that. So what were you doing in there? Who are you?¡±

    The man got to his feet. He was a bit shorter than Roger but heavier, on the chubby side. He was younger than Roger had realised, judging by his round, almost cherubic face. He wore business shoes with coveralls that looked black in the dim hallway. His hair was medium brown, but again looked much darker.

    ¡°Just loading stuff onto another ship,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m Jason Fisher.¡± Then, with dignity, ¡°You took my laptop.¡±

    ¡°Uh. Sorry about that,¡± said Roger.

    ¡°And ¡­ is this ¡­ butter?¡± he asked, noticing that some had smeared onto his suit. ¡°Why are you covered in butter?¡±

    ¡°We got hit by a butter bomb,¡± Michelle supplied.

    ¡°Yeah, that,¡± said Roger. ¡°Have you seen anyone else lately? The girl with dark red hair, possibly a very large man or a severe-looking woman, maybe ¡­ what does Sue look like?¡±

    ¡°Half-Chinese,¡± Michelle said, ¡°glasses, talks nonstop.¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± said Jason, ¡°I¡¯ve just been keeping to myself.¡±

    Roger opened his mouth, before something clicked. ¡°Have you been loading the people in cold sleep onto this other ship as well?¡±

    Jason gave him a very confused look. ¡°Definitely not. And it¡¯s called cryostasis.¡±

    Roger kept talking. ¡°But you are taking terraforming gear off it. And if there are people in cold sleep, this is probably a colony ship that needs that gear.¡±

    Jason suddenly looked very uncomfortable. ¡°Uh, don¡¯t get the wrong idea. The second ship is supposed to go on ahead. Technical reasons. The machines need lots of time to get set up. It takes time to generate an atmosphere and biomes and stuff, and we don¡¯t want people to have to spend years stuck inside while everything¡¯s getting set up, right?¡±

    ¡°Then why were the machines loaded into here first, rather than being put onto the second ship back on Earth? For that matter, why not launch the second ship at the same time as the first?¡±

    ¡°Well the ship uses a special high-tech gravity drive, that accelerates as you go along, so it lets you move incredibly fast, but it doesn¡¯t scale down, so they have to put both ships on the same engine for most of the trip. Er, they have to use the same engine for both ships.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how fast we¡¯re moving now?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°Out of curiosity.¡±

    ¡°Uh, we¡¯re moving at about ten percent of the speed of light right about now.¡±

    ¡°This is from the destination¡¯s reference frame, I assume?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Jason said.

    ¡°So how were you planning to stop?¡± she asked sweetly. ¡°At that speed, your kinetic energy would be about¡± she did some mental arithmetic ¡°two hundred million times the chemical energy of the same mass of dynamite. If you want to use atmospheric braking, you¡¯re going to need a lot of atmosphere.¡±

    They stared at her.

    ¡°I said I wasn¡¯t a professional physicist,¡± she said. ¡°I never said I didn¡¯t pay attention in class. Or that I couldn¡¯t tell a bad liar when I heard one.¡±

    Jason blushed, angry. ¡°Look, this is none of your business. You¡¯re both fresh out of cryosleep and don¡¯t even have pants. Just leave ¨C¡±

    There was a jolt, and all three of them staggered.

    ¡°The heck was that?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°Space debris,¡± Jason said. He cast an uneasy look back into the loading bay. ¡°It can cause a little damage, but there are systems to fix it, they should hold awhile longer.¡±

    Roger gave him an unliking look. ¡°Even if I thought you were telling the truth ¨C¡±

    ¡°Hey, Roger?!¡± called a girl¡¯s voice from behind them.

    They all turned to see Charlotte running down the hall toward them, wearing a black bodysuit which looked like it was made of spandex.

    ¡°There you are!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking all over for you! Why didn¡¯t you wait in the cold sleep room, like we agreed? And how did you get covered in butter, too, Roger? It was all over the room, you even got it into the pod somehow.¡± She moved to hug Roger, then decided that it could wait until he was cleaner.

    ¡°I slipped and fell onto him when one of those shocks hit,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Where¡¯s Sue? We¡¯ve got a bit of a situation here.¡±

    ¡°No kidding. She¡¯s upstairs, or downstairs, depends how you think of gravity, with Mum, taking a nap. I promised I¡¯d bring you both back to them. Um, you¡¯re welcome to come too?¡± she added to Jason, not knowing who he was but reasoning that he couldn¡¯t be too bad if Roger and Michelle were talking to him.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather stay here,¡± Jason said.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, disappointed.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t,¡± Michelle said to him.

    ¡°Mr Truth is on board this ship,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Uh, he¡¯s a bad man, and this is actually a spacecraft, if you didn¡¯t already know. So I¡¯d rather not stand here in the middle of the main hallway arguing.¡±

    Roger looked up and down the hall, making a mental note to think more about being on a spaceship as soon as he had time. She had a point, though; this was about the most conspicuous place possible, especially given that was probably Truth¡¯s personal ship just inside.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said, looking unhappily at Jason. If he was stealing important pieces of equipment, Roger should probably stop him, but he couldn¡¯t think how, short of murder. He didn¡¯t have any way to take a prisoner without physically dragging him upstairs, which would surely be loud enough to attract Mr Truth, and it¡¯s impossible to reliably knock someone unconscious for more than thirty seconds without putting them into a coma or killing them outright.

    ¡°Why are we all still standing around instead of getting out of the open?¡± Charlotte said. ¡°And what about Sue and Mum? They¡¯re alone, and both are probably asleep now.¡±

    He looked at Michelle, hoping she had ideas, but she just shrugged. ¡°¡­ Right,¡± he said. ¡°They come first. We¡¯ll see you around,¡± he added to Jason, turning to leave with the girls.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jason replied.

 Craft 6

    It hadn¡¯t seemed wise to Jill to go back inside, since Mr Truth might be waiting to ambush her, so instead she decided to keep exploring the outside of the ship. The two girls had gone toward the rim, so she went in toward the centre. Lower gravity was more fun anyway, once she got over the nausea of it.

    There were more stretches of metal closer in, so she could walk up walls, the magnetised soles of her suit holding on for her. As she got closer, gravity became progressively weaker, until she could leap from one terrace to another.

    She reached toward the great exhaust pipe at the very centre of the ship, ten times wider than her spread arms. It was surrounded by sensor dishes, probably intended to monitor its output in case the internals had problems.

    By this point, gravity had practically vanished, and the lightest push could send her drifting to wherever she wanted to go. She spotted a toolbox tethered to one dish and pushed herself toward it, catching hold of the tether and wrapping one leg to hold on around the dish. She¡¯d hit the jackpot: in addition to a pile of random spanners and drills, it contained what looked like a rigid backpack with rows of exhaust nozzles on the back, and wires leading to black strap-on gloves. She untied the tether from the toolbox and looped it round her ankle, then put on the backpack and gloves and tightened them.

    For a minute, she couldn¡¯t figure out how to get it to work, but then, in irritation, she clenched her fists, and one of the nozzles blew air and pushed her against the tether, sending her spinning. She caught herself and took a moment to get reoriented, then tried again, squeezing the gloves, and the jetpack came to life again. She spent a few minutes getting used to it, figuring out the controls. She gradually worked out that it moved her in the direction of wherever her hands were when she made fists, so she could fly forward with a Superman pose or put her hands to her hips to brake. When she put them to one side, it began yawing her that way. When she put them apart or crossed them over, the jetpack began pitching or rolling, which was nauseous and less helpful than the designer thought.

    She untied the tether and kicked against the ship¡¯s engine exhaust pipe, letting herself drop off the ship and drift through space, focusing on the unique sensation of weightlessness, the way that there was no longer gravity to press her organs against each other, only achievable on Earth by freefall. The ship seemed to spin faster and faster as she approached the rim, until finally she cleared it and could see the side of the ship. It had the same patchwork appearance of shiny chromed metal, cattle grid catwalks, irregular chunks of rock, and sensors and other technological apparatuses. She activated the jetpack and flew along beside it.

    The ship was much wider than it was long; she reckoned it was a few kilometres across, but only about fifty metres long. After that, there was a small gap and then a second disk, this one not rotating. She caught onto an antenna and sat on it, thinking about how unusual it was to be able to rest on something that clearly couldn¡¯t take her weight.

    On this side of the ship were protrusions that looked like gigantic mushrooms, which she recognised as the scoops. They used electrostatics to draw in passing dust and rocks, before filters brought them down and onto the ship for processing. She watched for a minute, when suddenly there was a crash that shook the ship and knocked her off the antenna. She spun in space; on reflex, she made fists, and the jetpack helpfully caught her. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t so badly designed after all. She looked back at the ship.

    In space, explosions are visible in slow motion, as debris floats away from the epicentre, everything from deadly bits of high-speed shrapnel to lazy pieces of scrap. Jill could see that something had hit the ship hard, probably a meteoroid, and knocked a fair amount of material loose. Some of it curved through space to be caught by the scoops, but some flew away from the ship, and she was fairly sure some of that was machinery from the ship. She noticed that there were no scoops near the point of impact, and that the scoops were in fact very unevenly distributed across the ship¡¯s surface. As she watched, one began retracting. She activated the jetpack again and flew over for a better look. The scoop neatly folded itself up like origami and slid along tracks into a chute.

    Why are the scoops withdrawing when they already aren¡¯t catching everything?

    She flew closer and landed on the top of the scoop, riding it down into the chute. A hatch closed above her, and suddenly it was pitch black. The scoop kept going along the track long enough for her air to become stale, and she began to feel she might have made a big mistake, when an airlock closed overhead and the room pressurised. She pulled off her helmet.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she called.

    Without warning, gravity began rapidly increasing to normal, pressing her down onto the scoop; she staggered and awkwardly turned the motion into sitting down, glad that nobody had seen it. The scoop presently began sliding along on something like a conveyor belt; a minute later, it pushed out through a rubber flap into what looked like a loading bay. It was full of crates and machinery, lit by red LEDs. A man was busy typing commands into a laptop on table. He stopped and stared at her.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said again.

    ¡°¡­ Hey,¡± said Jason, too surprised to think of anything else.

    ¡°I was out spacewalking,¡± Jill said, ¡°and I saw parts of the ship being removed. So I followed one down here.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± he said.

    ¡°What exactly are you doing with these?¡±

    ¡°Routine maintenance.¡±

    Jill got to her feet, still standing atop the scoop. From her vantage point, she could see multiple others sitting around the loading bay. ¡°You don¡¯t ¡®routinely maintain¡¯ half the ship¡¯s defences at once. You do one or two, so there¡¯s still enough to catch everything, and we don¡¯t keep getting pummelled, then cycle those ones back in and do the next batch. You, my friend, are dismantling it. What are you, a space pirate?¡±

    ¡°A space ¨C don¡¯t be stupid,¡± he said. ¡°Look, this ship is nowhere near on course, and it doesn¡¯t have the fuel to get anywhere any time soon. Whatever went wrong with navigation, nobody has any idea how to fix it. I¡¯m scavenging enough to make a second smaller ship, giving it the bare minimum it needs, and launching that. It should be light enough to get to a star system nearby.¡±

    She ran her tongue over her teeth. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re here? You¡¯re sick of the journey; you want it to be over already?¡±

    ¡°I want to have a life,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s not happening any time soon, not the way things are.¡±

    She smiled, musing. ¡°Stop wandering aimlessly, and finally just arrive. I guess I can sympathise. If I didn¡¯t have these diversions to keep me sane, and if I even knew where I wanted to go or what I wanted, I¡¯d be tempted to do the same sort of thing.¡± She took a deep breath, let it out. ¡°Still, I can¡¯t let you take the scoops. They¡¯re the only things stopping space debris from blasting this ship to dust.¡±

    ¡°There are repair systems,¡± he replied. ¡°They can keep it intact.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t when they get hit too.¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± he said. ¡°This ship is dead in the water, and there¡¯s nothing anyone can do about it. So you can sit here for the rest of your life until the cryochambers all fail, or we can make an escape ship. Hey, do you want to come with me? I could use some company.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s only possible by leaving everyone else on this ship defenceless,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re effectively taking the entire ship for yourself and jettisoning the passengers. Thanks, but no thanks. Now put these back.¡±

    He sized her up. He wasn¡¯t in good shape and didn¡¯t really know how to fight, but he was male and therefore probably much stronger. On the other hand, she had a jetpack and the confidence of someone who wasn¡¯t afraid of anyone. Either way, he¡¯d rather not take the risk if he didn¡¯t have to.

    ¡°Maybe we can ¨C¡± he began.

    Jill¡¯s eyes widened. She did a backward roll off the scoop, a moment before a bullet ricocheted off it and into an overhead cable; a section of catwalk clattered to the floor. Jason turned. At the hallway hatch was a giant of a man in a business suit, holding a smoking Uzi.

    ¡°I told you to stay out of my way,¡± Mr Truth called out.

    Jill pressed her back to the scoop¡¯s stalk and looked around for a weapon, an exit, or something else she could use. She was fairly sure the jetpack wouldn¡¯t support her weight in full gravity. ¡°Would you believe me if I said I was actually trying to save the ship, that this has nothing to do with you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, here we go,¡± Jason muttered.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Truth. ¡°Not when you¡¯re right next to my ship.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s probably because there¡¯s only one docking bay,¡± she said.

    ¡°Mmhmm. I also don¡¯t really care. You¡¯re still in my way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not your top priority right now,¡± she said. ¡°This guy¡¯s cannibalising this ship for parts. It¡¯ll kill everyone on board.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing,¡± Jason said.

    ¡°Are you taking this ship apart?¡± Truth asked.

    ¡°Well, yes, but not like she said.¡±

    ¡°Destroy it.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°I only have one objective,¡± said Truth, ¡°and I¡¯m not letting her get away. A second ship is a way she could escape from me. So destroy it. I¡¯m not going to ask again.¡±

    ¡°Whoa whoa whoa, this is way too valuable to destroy,¡± said Jason. ¡°We could get an entire planet of our own with it! A third of a planet each way. Or half, because that girl doesn¡¯t want in. There¡¯s no way ¨C¡±

    There came three quick gunshots and a thump. Jill swallowed, her heart racing.

    Truth¡¯s footsteps clunked on the metal floor. ¡°You can run for the door if you want,¡± he said conversationally. ¡°In fact, you might actually be useful to me. You probably know where the girl is, don¡¯t you? I could comb through this entire ship again looking for her, but Tchaipross doesn¡¯t pay by the hour. You can find her and bring her to me.¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that?¡± Jill asked.

    ¡°Why not?¡± he asked reasonably. ¡°Do you have anything better to do?¡±

    ¡°Are you just a full-on crazy supervillain who doesn¡¯t understand that people don¡¯t do things for you when they don¡¯t like you, or am I missing something?¡±

    ¡°Villain?¡± he repeated. ¡°To you, maybe. Look at it this way. I¡¯m going to find her, sooner or later. Do you want to be rid of me sooner or later? I promise I¡¯ll leave you alone once I have her. I¡¯m a professional; I don¡¯t damage things or people that aren¡¯t in my way.¡±

    She said nothing.

    ¡°You seem to need extra motivation,¡± he said.

    He pressed a button by the loading bay. It beeped, and a blast door began closing, isolating the boxes that Jason had loaded from the rest of the room. Before it completed the motion, he tossed in something like a wad of putty with a metal rod stuck inside. He pulled a remote from a pocket and pressed it. There was another beep, and a blast tossed Jill against the scoop.

    She sat against it, dazed, while Mr Truth walked around and offered her a hand. She weakly took it, and he easily pulled her to her feet. She gradually became aware that a siren was going off.

    ¡°It sounds like that made a few minor hull breaches,¡± he said. ¡°If you can get her here before the ship completely depressurises, I¡¯ll let you come with us.¡±

    ¡°Nngh,¡± she said, her ears ringing. ¡°You ¡­¡±

    ¡°Will you stay, or go?¡± he asked. He still had his gun in hand.

    She turned and staggered out.

 Craft final

    ¡°¡­ but she stayed behind to hold Mr Truth off,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°I really hope she¡¯s okay.¡±

    She had made it back to her mother¡¯s bar, Roger and Michelle in tow. Sue was asleep in a back room; April was snoring on the counter, to Charlotte¡¯s and Roger¡¯s quiet embarrassment, but Michelle had the decency not to say anything.

    ¡°I hope Sue¡¯s okay,¡± Roger said. ¡°It sounds like she might have a concussion, and we don¡¯t have a lot of medicine around here. Well, we probably do, but nobody who knows where it is or how to use it.¡±

    At that moment, there came a crash. Bottles rained off the shelves and shattered, covering the floor with mixed drinks and glass shards. A siren began blaring in the distance. April jerked awake.

    ¡°What fresh hell is this?¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Probably another meteoroid,¡± Michelle said wearily. ¡°They¡¯ve been getting bigger.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really trust this ship to survive too much longer,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Earlier, I was thinking we could try to sabotage Mr Truth¡¯s ship, but now it might be a better idea to escape in it, if we can find it.¡±

    Michelle exchanged a look with Roger. ¡°We did find it. It was just off where you found us.¡±

    ¡°It was?!¡± She blinked. ¡°Well, we needed to come back here to fetch Sue anyway. So why don¡¯t we wake her up and go?¡±

    ¡°If someone might have a concussion, you should let them sleep it off,¡± April said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Michelle, ¡°what¡¯s that CPR mnemonic? DR ABC, Danger Response something something something? I think being stuck on an exploding spacecraft in an asteroid field might count as danger.¡±

    April shrugged, conceding the point. She opened a slat in the bar and they all trooped through, careful to avoid the broken glass and slippery alcohol mix. In the back was a mixture of thick, plush carpets; leather-upholstered couches; and satin pillows. All this was lit by warm reddish lights swinging overhead.

    Sue was curled up on a pile of pillows. She opened a bleary eye as they approached. ¡°I pretty much gave up sleeping when that alarm started ringing,¡± she said. ¡°Can you turn it off, or are we going out again already?¡±

    ¡°The latter,¡± said Michelle. ¡°Do you think you can walk?¡±

    There was another meteoroid impact, and everyone except Sue was knocked over.

    ¡°Not if that keeps happening,¡± she said, as the others picked themselves up. Roger offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    They made their way back to the bar. April stayed behind it.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°I have emergency contact buttons here,¡± she said.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t hit them an hour ago because ¡­?¡± said Michelle.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get fined if press them when it¡¯s not an emergency, but I think it counts now.¡±

    Michelle gave her a look.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a lot of money,¡± April said defensively.

    Michelle gave her a look.

    ¡°Look. I can maybe get a repair team out of cold sleep, or I can activate the security systems. I¡¯ll try that from here. The rest of you should go on ahead. Try to disable Mr Truth¡¯s ship, or if I can¡¯t get anyone to wake up soon enough, steal it and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡± said Charlotte.

    ¡°There are airlocks everywhere. I¡¯ll find a way out.¡±

    The other four exchanged glances.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± Charlotte said, and moved forward to hug her. ¡°Love you.¡±

    There was a crunch, then a second, smaller one a moment later, and a water tap behind the bar began gushing.

    ¡°We really need to go,¡± Michelle said.

    Outside, the lights were flickering. Charlotte hurried toward the elevator. Jill was waiting there for them.

    ¡°Jill!¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Rog, Michelle, this is Jill. She helped me and Sue out earlier. Uh, are you okay?¡±

    Jill¡¯s face and her black bodysuit were dusty, and a bruise was developing on her cheek. She was still wearing the jetpack. She waved the question off. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    Roger squinted at her. ¡°Don¡¯t I know you from somewhere?¡±

    She blinked, as though something was tickling the edges of her memory. ¡°Maybe, but put a pin in that thought and worry about it later. Mr Truth is waiting for you,¡± she said to Charlotte, ¡°in the hangar.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Sue. ¡°If he¡¯s there, what do we do now?¡±

    ¡°I think you should probably go there anyway,¡± Jill said. ¡°Where else are you going to go? He¡¯s breached the hull. We¡¯re running out of air.¡±

    Charlotte blinked. She felt bad, like the top half of her head was inside a microwave, vibrating and steadily getting hotter. She didn¡¯t think that was how a pressure drop felt, though.

    ¡°What else did he tell you?¡± Roger asked.

    Jill shrugged. ¡°Just to tell you to go to him. If it¡¯s not clear, I don¡¯t mind if you don¡¯t, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be safe, exactly. I¡¯m just letting you know.¡±

    ¡°How did you even find us?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°What do you mean, if you don¡¯t?¡± Charlotte asked at the same time. She glanced at Michelle, then pressed the point. ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming with us now? If the entire ship runs out of air, you need to escape too.¡±

    Jill looked from Roger to Michelle and back again. ¡°It looks a little crowded here, to be honest,¡± she said. ¡°No offence, but I prefer smaller groups. I think I¡¯ll find my own way out.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°His ship is probably the only safe place right now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hard to kill,¡± Jill said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±

    And she turned and walked off down the hall.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the Batman routine?¡± Michelle undertoned.

    ¡°She was that way last time, too,¡± Charlotte said, worried. ¡°Should we go after her?¡±

    There was another crash, then a crunch. The previous times, there had been a single hard shock, but this time, the ground kept shaking. A second siren blared in counterpoint to the first.

    Michelle leaned against a wall, trying to keep her balance. ¡°Lottie, this place is falling apart! You said she can spacewalk, but at this rate, the entire ship is going to get torn open! We¡¯ve got to go!¡±

    They managed to make it to the elevator. It was another nice, chrome-plated car. With the elevator cable acting as a shock absorber, it was invitingly stable inside.

    ¡°Do we trust this not to fall while we¡¯re in it?¡± Roger asked sceptically.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a three hundred metre climb,¡± Sue said. ¡°If you can even find a ladder or stairs anywhere.¡±

    He sighed, and they all filed in and Michelle pressed the button for the middle floor. The elevator began going down.

    ¡°Do we at least have a plan?¡± he asked. ¡°Truth is tough.¡±

    ¡°If worst comes to worst, I could always surrender,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°No,¡± he said flatly.

    She met his gaze. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to either, but if it¡¯s the only way off here for all of us ¡­¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t work that way,¡± Roger said. ¡°You know that. It¡¯ll be you and only you.¡±

    ¡°Do we have a chance in a fight?¡± Sue said, leaning against a wall. ¡°For the record, I don¡¯t think I could make a difference, and Lottie sucks at fighting.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Roger, thinking back to one time when she¡¯d balked at even playing a first-person-shooter video game. He looked at Michelle. He knew she was in great shape, but that didn¡¯t make her a fighter. ¡°Unless you¡¯re secretly a world-class martial artist, I don¡¯t think we have a chance.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a giant android mecha thing in there,¡± she suggested. ¡°If you three all run interference, I might be able to get inside and stomp him.¡±

    ¡°What, like an EVA?¡± Sue asked, wide-eyed.

    ¡°Do you know how to operate it?¡± Roger asked, ignoring this.

    ¡°No,¡± Michelle said. ¡°And it has an open cockpit. ¡®Might¡¯ was the key word there.¡±

    They thought about this.

    ¡°This kind of sucks,¡± Sue observed.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°I guess we¡¯re winging it.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Roger really wanted to say that they shouldn¡¯t do this, but there was another crash, the elevator rocked, and the lights dimmed.

    ¡°You know,¡± Michelle said, ¡°if we can stall for long enough, one of those meteoroids might hit hard enough to knock him down. We¡¯re all probably lighter on our feet than him; if he falls and one of us gets close enough before he gets back up, we could kick his gun out of his hand and someone else could grab it.¡±

    Roger frowned. It sounded like an action movie plan: something that would work wonderfully with perfect choreography, and which could get them all machine-gunned if someone slipped or was just a little too slow.

    ¡°There were crates all over the place,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ll split up and try to draw him out, cancel out the gun¡¯s range. Sis, you stay in the centre, but at the back. I¡¯ll go left. You two go right. Wait for him to lose his footing, then Sue throws something to distract him. I charge him, get the gun, and throw it to Michelle. Aim for his legs.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want me to kill him?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°More that I don¡¯t want you to miss and kill me. You said you¡¯d never fired a gun before.¡±

    Michelle opened her mouth to object to this, but shut it without saying anything. He wasn¡¯t wrong.

    The elevator slowed to a stop and the door opened. Their ears popped, and they noticed a wind current in the hall.

    ¡°Hurry,¡± Roger said. They walked out and into the corridor, and Charlotte cried out in pain and sank to her knees. ¡°Charlotte! What is it?¡±

    ¡°Headache,¡± she said through gritted teeth. ¡°Ow. It¡¯s a bad one.¡±

    ¡°Heck of a time to get one,¡± Sue said, stroking Charlotte¡¯s hair soothingly. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. Maybe Truth has some aspirin on his ship?¡±

    ¡°Uh, can we keep moving?¡± Michelle said. ¡°Lean on me; we¡¯ll get you something later. Come on.¡±

    The ground was shaking even harder down here. The sirens kept ringing as they walked down the hall toward the landing bay, Michelle taking most of Charlotte¡¯s weight. They reached the hatch.

    ¡°Sue, can you take her?¡± Michelle asked, pushing Charlotte over. Charlotte gave a soft moan of protest as Sue caught her.

    ¡°Just a little bit longer,¡± Sue promised.

    Roger and Michelle went in first. Mr Truth was waiting by his ship with an access ramp down, his machine pistol held casually at his side. He watched them enter.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d come,¡± he said. He motioned them in.

    Sue rubbed Charlotte¡¯s shoulder. ¡°She¡¯s hurt,¡± she said. ¡°Do you have medical supplies on board?¡±

    He stared at them for a moment. Feigning a medical emergency is one of the oldest tricks in the book. ¡°Yes,¡± he said.

    ¡°Bring them out here first,¡± Roger said. ¡°I don¡¯t trust you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your problem,¡± Truth said.

    The ship rocked under another heavy impact. A couple of catwalks fell and clattered against the ground, but Truth kept his footing and didn¡¯t let them distract him.

    ¡°I¡¯m not letting her go anywhere near you if I don¡¯t know you¡¯ll take proper care of her,¡± Roger said.

    Truth said nothing, but brought his gun up; Roger and Michelle split up and dived behind boxes. Sue was stuck in the open, burdened by Charlotte¡¯s weight. She slowly raised her free hand.

    ¡°Uh, please don¡¯t shoot?¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just helping carry my friend here.¡±

    ¡°Release her,¡± Truth said. ¡°Back away. Lie on the ground, hands on your head.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, and set Charlotte down, as gently as she could, but Charlotte still whimpered.

    There came a hiss from behind them, making Truth pivot and aim his gun. It was Jill, climbing awkwardly out of a tight airlock in the far wall.

    She was wearing a space helmet again. She tapped it, and her voice came from a PA, badly distorted by static and clipping. ¡°Hello, everyone,¡± she said, with a small wave. ¡°Should I come back later?¡±

    ¡°Get down on the ground,¡± Truth ordered.

    ¡°Or what, you¡¯ll shoot?¡± she asked. ¡°When I¡¯m standing right in front of an airlock? I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    Roger moved around, getting a clear line at Mr Truth¡¯s back, but the larger man apparently had eyes on the back of his head, because he whirled, and Roger barely had time to duck back before a bullet pinged off his crate. Truth turned back to Jill without missing a beat.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯d be a small hole, and this is a large ship. Decompression takes time.¡±

    She opened her mouth to say something smart, then realised it would actually be very stupid, and lowered herself to the floor. Mr Truth nodded approval and began walking toward Charlotte, his footsteps echoing off the floor.

    As he did, there came a humming from the walls above them, that quickly grew into a rattling, and then a roar. There came a blast: a ventilation grate near the veiling blew out, and out came a stream of octopus-tipped rockets.

    Mr Truth was fast. He stepped backward into a crouch, aimed, and fired into the mass, blowing a dozen rockets out of the air. Jill took the opportunity to roll to her feet and hit a big red button on a control panel next to her airlock. It beeped angrily; she hit it again.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said, but she was drowned out as the entire wall began opening up.

    Air blew out like a hurricane wind with a noise like a continuous explosion, throwing everyone toward the opening. Everyone grabbed for the first solid object they could reach: a crate for Roger, the mech for Michelle, the airlock control panel for Jill. Sue couldn¡¯t get anything from a prone position; she tumbled forward and smacked into Charlotte, who skidded along the ground and somehow managed to hold on, maybe being too low for the wind to hit properly. Only Mr Truth had nothing. He grabbed at a protrusion from his ship, missed, and somersaulted out into space, stray rocket squids exploding around him.

    Jill smacked more buttons, and the wall began shutting again. ¡°Just a moment!¡±

    Michelle had a grip on one of the mech¡¯s feet, which were made of rubbery material molded to look like boots. She felt it tilt: something had bashed into it and knocked it slightly off balance. It teetered, then came crashing down and bounced off the floor, tossing Michelle like a ragdoll. Jill leapt and caught her, sending them both to thud harmlessly into a corner. At the same time, the mech crashed into the open wall a moment before it closed. The impact twisted the mech and dented the opening, keeping it from closing fully, leaving a gaping hole. A third siren began ringing. Michelle and Jill stared.

    ¡°Oops,¡± Jill murmured.

    The hole wasn¡¯t as wide as before, so the wind was weaker, merely a powerful gust, no longer enough to knock a human off their feet. Roger got up, staggered, and made his way over to Charlotte and Sue. He shouted something inaudible, threw Sue over one shoulder, took Charlotte¡¯s hand, and dragged them toward Truth¡¯s ship. Jill shoved Michelle toward it and ran back over to the control panel; Michelle moved with the momentum and made it to the ship. They climbed up the ramp into an airlock. Roger fumbled, found the controls, and raised the landing ramp. The airlock hissed as it sealed.

    It was a small chamber, about the size of an old telephone box. The outer door was integrated into the landing ramp, but there were plastic windows on either side, so they could still see the landing bay, although Jill wasn¡¯t visible from this angle. On the opposite side was a pneumatic door. The airlock hummed, and the door opened, letting them into the rest of the ship, but they stayed where they were for a moment.

    ¡°Is everyone okay?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°Could do with a breather,¡± Michelle panted. ¡°I think I have pressure sickness.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± said Sue. ¡°Also, Lottie¡¯s on top of me.¡±

    ¡°Charlotte?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°Nngh,¡± Charlotte said, clutching at her head. ¡°It¡¯s getting worse.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, sis,¡± he said, giving her hand a squeeze. ¡°We¡¯re clear. Let¡¯s look for a first aid kit.¡±

    He walked through the door and did a double-take. It didn¡¯t look like any spacecraft he¡¯d ever imagined.

    ¡°What the crap?¡± Michelle said, following.

    It was a wide circular room with a high-vaulted ceiling, bigger than Truth¡¯s ship had looked from the outside. Around the tiled white-and-grey walls were stone pedestals on which there burned hundreds of smokeless candles. For every five or six candles, there was a photo. In the centre of the room was a long white altar with a grey silk shroud. The ceiling was decorated with a huge stained glass wasp.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he said.

    Sue walked in, half-carrying Charlotte. ¡°Uh. What?¡±

    ¡°Is this an elaborate joke?¡± Michelle asked. ¡°Or are we literally in a ¡­ shrine ship?¡±

    ¡°Maybe it uses space-warping technology?¡± Sue said. ¡°I mean, if the Aquinas has been going for a while, you¡¯d need a faster-than-light drive to catch up and get back to ¡­ wherever it was that Mr Truth wanted to take Lottie. And most FTL tech works by warping space somehow.¡±

    Roger looked around. ¡°I don¡¯t see any controls, or any medical supplies.¡± He walked over to a pedestal to take a closer look at the photo. It was of Charlotte. It looked like she was playing snap with someone, but the other person¡¯s face was blurred out. ¡°I can believe this was Mr Truth¡¯s, though. Let¡¯s keep looking for ¨C¡±

    There came a rapping behind them, and they turned. Jill was at the outer airlock, waving to be let in. Sue went over to the inner door and pressed a button, shutting it and beginning the cycle to let Jill into the shrine.

    ¡°¨C for medicine,¡± Roger finished.

    He went to the altar and began poking at it: it was the largest object in the room, so maybe there was a hidden compartment in it or something. Michelle looked around at the pedestals and photos, while Sue sat with Charlotte. Presently, the door opened, and Jill walked in.

    ¡°¨C¡± Jill said, looking around. She realised, took off her helmet, and tried again. ¡°D¨¦j¨¤ vu,¡± she murmured.

    ¡°Do you know what sort of ship this is?¡± Roger asked. He shot a worried look at Charlotte, who was breathing hard.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a ship,¡± Jill said. She walked over to him and brushed her fingertips along the altar.

    ¡°What,¡± he said, ¡°are you saying he brought a decoy or something?¡±

    ¡°No. It¡¯s been replaced,¡± she said.

    There was another rap at the airlock. The lights had dimmed outside, so they could only see the face and silhouette. It was a pale young girl with black hair and golden eyes, wearing a white gown tinted red by the landing bay lights, with a weird shadow behind her.

    Jill¡¯s eyes went wide. She dashed to the door and held down the lock button.

    ¡°Hey, what are you doing?¡± Sue said. ¡°Let her in.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not a she,¡± Jill said. ¡°I opened the main door before I came in, so we could fly out. It¡¯s hard vacuum out there, and she¡¯s not wearing a suit.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to let her in,¡± Michelle said.

    Jill stared at them, and Roger took the opportunity to shoulder-check her away from the control panel and shut the inner door. There was a clunk as the girl entered, and a hiss as the cycle began.

    ¡°Aw, jeez,¡± Jill said.

    The inner lock pressurised, and the door opened. The girl walked into the shrine. Closer to, they could see that the shadow was actually a pair of wings like a dragonfly¡¯s, sprouting from her shoulder blades. Her gown was cut away to leave her back bare down to her tailbone. Jill backed away as she passed.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± said the girl. She gave a yawn. ¡°It¡¯s a real hassle out there.¡±

    ¡°Hey, no problem,¡± Roger said.

    ¡°Sorry we don¡¯t have anything to give you,¡± Sue said. ¡°Blankets or a snack or something. If you find any ¨C¡±

    Charlotte screamed and keeled over. Roger, Sue, and Michelle rushed to her side.

    ¡°It keeps getting worse.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Is she sick or hurt or something?¡±

    ¡°She shouldn¡¯t be. We were near an explosion earlier, but I took it worse than she did.¡±

    ¡°What if someone takes Jill¡¯s helmet, goes back, and looks for supplies on the main ship?¡±

    ¡°Take her to the altar,¡± said the winged girl.

    Roger nodded. ¡°That makes sense. You two take her legs, I¡¯ll take her arms?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Michelle nodded, as she and Sue moved into position.

    The three of them stood up, lifting Charlotte, but Jill was between them and the altar, arms spread wide.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it,¡± she said.

    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Roger asked. ¡°She needs help!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see what¡¯s happening?!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s happening is that my sister is in pain!¡±

    ¡°That girl isn¡¯t human! Look at her!¡±

    They turned to look at the winged girl, who yawned again before she noticed.

    She fixed her eyes on Jill¡¯s. ¡°Haven¡¯t I seen you before?¡± she asked. She blinked slowly. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re that troublesome one who keeps getting in my way.¡±

    Roger, Michelle, and Sue quietly set Charlotte down, watching the exchange.

    ¡°And I still don¡¯t know what you are,¡± Jill said, starting to circle her.

    ¡°Mm,¡± said the girl. She stayed where she was. ¡°Well, you know a little bit of what I can do. Want to leave? I won¡¯t stop you.¡±

    Jill glared. ¡°Not going to happen.¡±

    The girl tilted her head and regarded her coolly for a long moment. ¡°Whatever.¡±

    Four long, rusty harpoons appeared above her. They twisted in space to face their targets, then shot forward. The first three all struck home, and Roger, Michelle, and Sue all crumpled, bleeding out.

    Jill was expecting it. She twisted to the side and snatched the harpoon as it passed her; it shook in her grip for a moment before stilling. She dashed at the winged girl, bringing the weapon up.

    The girl was abruptly on the opposite side of the room, and where she had been was a giant bear trap. Jill skidded into it, and it snapped shut around her midsection, the steel teeth locking in place but unable to puncture her bodysuit. She struggled against it.

    Over the winged girl¡¯s head appeared a golden object like a Slinky, wrapped around in a doughnut shape. Inside it, a wire-thin ring of light glowed red, then quickly turned yellow and then incandescent white. There was a high-pitched hum that crescendoed to a shriek, and a flickering corona developed in the air around it.

    ¡°Next time,¡± she said, ¡°don¡¯t come back.¡±

    A stream of blinding light blasted out from the particle accelerator and through Jill¡¯s chest.

 Haunt 1

    <u>Haunt Arc</u>

    A van rolled along a dirt track and into a village. It was a patchwork of architectural styles, from boxy concrete houses to modern, curved objects that counted as much as artwork as structures, to a Gothic steeple-topped cathedral near the centre. The road was mostly paved in bluestone, with an assortment of rubbish strewn through the gutters. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a purple-red glow across the extensive cloud cover. Country music burbled from the van.

    ¡°Turn that off, or so help me ¨C¡±

    The speaker was a blonde-brunette sitting in the back named Michelle. She wore tennis shoes and tight jeans that showed off her legs, a red shirt with a dark brown jacket to make her skin look fairer, and unmatched bracelets on either wrist. She could pull off either the jock or fashionista look, depending on her mood; she¡¯d picked fashionista for tonight, although she hadn¡¯t bothered going all-out with makeup or jewellery. She jiggled her leg irritably.

    ¡°It kind of sets the mood,¡± said a half-Chinese girl sitting opposite her named Sue.

    She had picked a royal purple knee skirt, a white shirt, and a baby blue windcheater. She had a leather satchel on her lap, and was pressed against the boy next to her, watching him play a handheld video game. She was long-sighted and needed glasses, but right now, they were hanging from her neckline.

    Michelle turned back to look at her, aghast. ¡°You like this?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Sue asked, looking up. ¡°No, it¡¯s appalling, but it works well on a road trip.¡±

    The driver was called Roger. He was only a few years older than the others, but they were the crucial ones at the end of adolescence that were the difference between a kid and a young man. He had dark hair and eyes and a day¡¯s scruff. His clothes were worn but neat, jeans and jacket, faded to dull blue and brown. Even when he spoke, he focused intently on the road, only occasionally glancing at the girl in the seat next to him.

    ¡°Yeah, that was what I was thinking when I put it on,¡± he said.

    Michelle gave a despairing sigh. ¡°Just change it to literally anything else. We can set the mood with an endless parade of Scooby Doo jokes.¡±

    ¡°Jinkies!¡± said Sue.

    Michelle just shook her head and stretched out her legs, wishing there were more space in the van. Sue scooted her own legs back to make room, not least because she¡¯d taken her own shoes off earlier.

    Roger twisted the radio knob, went through a blur of static, and found someone talking.

    ¡°¨C stars landing across South America, now beginning to fall into the south of the Pacific Ocean. Astronomers predict that the shower will continue late into ¨C¡±

    He kept going and finally settled on a Russian orchestral channel playing the Korobeiniki.

    ¡°Now you¡¯re talking,¡± said Sue.

    A dog barked as they went along. It was otherwise dead quiet.

    ¡°This is a weird village,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Michelle, have you been here before?¡±

    ¡°Once, when I was a kid,¡± she said, looking out a window. ¡°Uncle Maurice held a dinner party in the town hall. I don¡¯t remember it, and my parents never came back. He was ¡­ eccentric.¡±

    ¡°We already figured that one,¡± Roger said. ¡°No offence.¡±

    ¡°None taken. I always had the impression he would have fit in much better three or four hundred years ago. When I saw him when I was thirteen, he asked my parents if I had any suitors yet. So yeah, I think ¡®eccentric¡¯ just about nails it.¡±

    The name of the boy sitting beside Sue was Jason. He was a bit chubby, which was inconvenient in the crowded van, but it meant he could get away without needing a jacket; he¡¯d taken khaki cargo pants, hiking boots, and a long-sleeved grey shirt, and called it a day. He had light brown hair that fell to his collar, framing a baby face, intent on the game, where he was making good progress.

    ¡°So why are we visiting him?¡± he asked, pausing his game. Sue gently tugged it out of his hands.

    Michelle stared. ¡°Visiting?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, visiting,¡± Jason repeated.

    In the very back was a leggy girl with a mass of curly black hair named Lucia. She was lean but seemingly impervious to the cold, wearing only black running shorts and a tight, stretchy black t-shirt that left her shoulders bare. She looked asleep, curled up on a pile of sleeping bags, but chimed in regularly. She gave a strong impression of having been a cat in her previous life.

    ¡°That is what we¡¯re doing, right?¡± she asked, not opening her eyes.

    ¡°That ¨C no. He¡¯s dead,¡± Michelle said. ¡°Didn¡¯t I explain this to you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Roger, keeping his eyes on the road. ¡°You said to me, ¡®Hey Roger, want to drive me and some friends on a road trip to my uncle¡¯s old castle?¡¯ I¡¯m not complaining, exactly, but ¡­¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know who¡¯d be coming,¡± Jason said. ¡°I still don¡¯t know how all these people are connected to you. Roger¡¯s your friend¡¯s brother, who happens to have a van? And Lucy¡¯s ¡­ someone?¡±

    ¡°Got it in one,¡± Lucia said.

    Michelle waved this aside. ¡°Well, he was mysteriously murdered last week, and apparently he liked me, because I was one of his primary beneficiaries.¡±

    Beside Roger was his little sister, Charlotte, whose long dark red hair was so unlike his that they wouldn¡¯t look related if it weren¡¯t for their shared mannerisms. She wore a red jacket unzipped over a pink t-shirt, plus a pair of skinny jeans. She wasn¡¯t any shorter than Sue, but she was skinnier than her and shorter than Roger, which combined to make her look much smaller. She¡¯d napped on and off for the entire trip, leading Michelle to complain that she should have had the shotgun seat, but as it was Roger¡¯s van, it was his rules.

    ¡°Wait, murdered?¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Did they catch whoever did it?¡±

    ¡°Nope. They don¡¯t even have any clues. Anyway ¨C¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is something you can ¡®anyway¡¯ away,¡± Charlotte pressed, concerned. ¡°Was he here when it happened? If the murderer is still on the loose, what if they come for one of us? How did it happen, anyway?¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°You faint at the sight of blood,¡± Sue said. ¡°Are you sure you want to ask that question?¡±

    ¡°,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°They haven¡¯t found the weapon,¡± Michelle said, ¡°and it¡¯s fine, he was in rural France at the time. Anyway, the main thing I inherited was a castle. That one up ahead.¡±

    Everyone in the back crouched, angling themselves to see through the windscreen. An imposing, irregular stone shape loomed in the distance.

    ¡°Castle de Lumi¨¨re.¡±

    ¡°You own a castle,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Okay, apparently that¡¯s a thing now.¡±

    ¡°For now,¡± Michelle said. ¡°What am I going to do with a castle? That¡¯s the epitome of a dead asset. As soon as we¡¯re done here, I¡¯m auctioning it off and putting the money onto the Dow Jones. But first, I want to go treasure-hunting. It used to be a strongpoint for a robber faux noble back in the sixteen hundreds, and the records say that most of the treasure stolen isn¡¯t accounted for. There¡¯s a fortune hidden there.¡±

    ¡°And you want us to help look for it,¡± Sue said.

    ¡°For free,¡± Roger noted.

    ¡°Jeez! If you find anything, we¡¯ll split it.¡±

    As she spoke, she gesticulated for emphasis, and accidentally clipped the boy sleeping next to her, the seventh and final member of their group. He was a sandy blond who happened to be called Aaron. He wore loose-fitting clothes: a dark blue tracksuit, a teal shirt that came down to mid-thigh, and a blue hoodie several sizes too large. He¡¯d been dozing for the past half hour, but he started at this; they all froze for a moment, but he snuffled and seemed to stay asleep.

    ¡°That¡¯s if there¡¯s even anything there,¡± Sue said at length. ¡°It¡¯s probably been picked over in the four hundred years since then, and if I found anything, I wouldn¡¯t have told anyone.¡± There was a pause, during which Jason elbowed her in the ribs. ¡°I¡¯ll definitely say if I find anything now, of course.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± he said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made a terrible decision,¡± Michelle said under her breath, then, aloud, ¡°The treasure idea isn¡¯t really serious. I just figured I should at least visit a castle once before having it quarried, and it¡¯s a lot more appealing to do that with friends than entirely alone.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°We brought board games, so it¡¯ll be fun either way.¡±

    There was a pause.

    ¡°I want to say something snarky,¡± Michelle said, ¡°but it¡¯d be like kicking a puppy.¡±

    ¡°This is why I try not to say snarky things,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re missing out on,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°I do! And it seems really unpleasant for everyone else.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Roger said, killing the engine.

    Before them stood the castle, a veritable fortress, with intricate walls, all curves and angles, with towers, arrow slits, gargoyles, and random protrusions dotting its length. Directly ahead was a huge wooden gate. In front of that, though, was a moat.

    ¡°For the record, this van isn¡¯t waterproof,¡± he said. ¡°Nor is it rated to go through walls.¡±

    ¡°What a piece of junk,¡± Jason said.

    ¡°I keep meaning to upgrade,¡± Roger replied, deadpan.

    Michelle shook Aaron awake and everyone piled out.

    ¡°So,¡± Charlotte said, after an awkward silence stretched out longer than it ought to have, ¡°how do we get inside?¡±

    ¡°I assumed there¡¯d be a door knocker,¡± Michelle said.

    Aaron leaned over the moat to see better, blinking sleep out of his eyes. ¡°There is,¡± he said. ¡°Right there, beside the drawbridge. On the opposite side of the moat.¡±

    Michelle ran her hands through her hair, careful to comb it back rather than muss it up. ¡°I said he was eccentric,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s see. That water looks fetid. Does anyone have a long pole ¡­¡±

    There was a grinding noise, and the drawbridge lowered. On the opposite side, a pair of headlights glared out at them. They stood, frozen for a long moment, until there came the sound of a car door slamming, and someone walked out from behind the headlights, a neat, middle-aged man in slacks and a coat with brown hair and glasses.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked, a note of strain in his voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m Michelle Bright. I own this castle.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± he said, then, much more warmly, offering his hand to shake, ¡°I¡¯m Justin Martin. I¡¯m the late Baron Lumi¨¨re¡¯s solicitor. My family and I are minding the castle for now, but my daughter¡¯s just hurt herself, and we¡¯re driving her to the surgeon. Would you mind backing up?¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Roger, getting into the van and starting the engine again, ¡°just a moment.¡±

    ¡°Our older daughter¡¯s up in her room,¡± Justin said, waving vaguely behind himself. ¡°She probably won¡¯t bother you, though; she prefers to play by herself. You kids stay safe, okay?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Michelle said angelically.

    Roger reversed the van and curved out of the way. Justin went back to his car, shut the door and beeped, and drove off.

    ¡°See?¡± Michelle said to Charlotte. ¡°She hurt herself. No serial killers at all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s less reassuring than you think it is,¡± Charlotte said.

    Rather than bother getting back into the van, they walked ahead of it as Roger nudged it forward and parked. The drawbridge led into a little courtyard, covered in loose gravel and tyre tracks; there were some feral-looking gardens on either side and the castle proper in front. The greenery was dark and foreboding so late in the day with the walls screening out the sun. There was another heavy wooden door in the castle, this one person-sized. Michelle walked up and rapped on it.

    An eye slit opened, and a man peered out. He squinted at them, not at all friendly.

    ¡°I¡¯m Michelle Bright. I¡¯ve just inherited this castle.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this because ¡­?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Because I hoped it would be implied that I want you to let us in,¡± she explained.

    He squinted even harder.

    ¡°Please open the door and let us in,¡± she repeated, more firmly this time.

    He didn¡¯t move for a moment, but then there came the grinding of metal against metal, and the door swung open, revealing a very ugly hunchbacked man with a single eyebrow running across his forehead. He wore a long green robe whose hems were dusty and frayed, and carried an oil lamp in one hand. He stood to one side and waggled his eyebrow at them, motioning them in.

    There were no lights and the windows were completely inadequate, but Lucia and the boys had brought backpacks in from the van, and Roger handed out electric torches. The entrance hall was covered in dust and cobwebs, and full of antique junk that was probably actually valuable, things like suits of armour and oil paintings. Some of these were properly set up on plinths or hanging from a wall, but plenty of objects just lay haphazardly on the thick, plush carpet. Doors opened off to either side, and there were narrow staircases up ahead, one going up, the other down.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t those people cleaned this place out at all?¡± Michelle asked disdainfully. ¡°Haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Will you?¡± he asked.

    She just turned and stalked down the hall, leaving the others to follow. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy firing him,¡± she undertoned.

    Charlotte hurried up to her, unfolding a map from one of their packs. ¡°Uh, are we going anywhere in particular?¡±

    ¡°Inside. Away from that pest. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Then I think we should go to the kitchen,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Aaron has some ingredients, and I think it¡¯d be nice to cook something a little classier than road trip snacks. We can settle in and have dinner.¡±

    Michelle paused, letting the others catch up, picking their way around the paintings and loose fire pokers. She was actually pretty hungry, and Aaron was a better chef than most people realised. ¡°That¡¯s actually really sensible,¡± she said. ¡°Okay, everyone, here¡¯s the plan. We¡¯re going to have dinner, sort out where everyone is sleeping, then think about looking around.¡±

    ¡°We also have board games,¡± Charlotte said.

    Michelle gave her a look.

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± she said defensively.

    ¡°I could murder an aristocrat for dinner,¡± Jason said.

    ¡°Me too,¡± Sue said. ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    Charlotte ran her finger along the map. It was photocopied off one hand-copied from two and a half centuries ago, originally drawn by someone with a shaky hand and a limited grasp of English phonics. They¡¯d only bothered labelling about a fifth of the rooms. ¡°This way. I think.¡±

    ¡°Should we ask Mr Martin¡¯s daughter for help?¡± Jason asked. ¡°If she¡¯s been here awhile, she might know her way around.¡±

    Sue brought her hands to her mouth. ¡°Coo-ee!¡±

    She¡¯d halfway expected it to echo, but the dust and carpet absorbed her call. The others looked at her. Behind them, the hunchback grumbled something they couldn¡¯t make out.

    ¡°What? You ask to find her, and suddenly I¡¯m the weird one for doing something about it?¡±

    ¡°Suddenly,¡± Michelle said, drawing air quotes. ¡°Come on. We run into her or we don¡¯t.¡±

 Haunt 2

    Bare floorboards creaked underfoot as they made their way forward and up the stairs. On Charlotte¡¯s guidance, they crossed a hall with polished red tiles and turned left and down six steps.

    ¡°Why are we going down straight after going up?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°Because this is the quickest way to the kitchens,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°¡­ I feel like one of us is missing some context.¡±

    ¡°This place was rebuilt and expanded on across more than two centuries,¡± Michelle said. ¡°And my great-something-uncle many times removed was an idiot. More than one of my relatives were idiots, in fact.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t any of the ones who came after ever think to take both sets of steps out?¡± Jason asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of those questions,¡± she said, ¡°where if you think it through, you¡¯ll realise contains its own answer.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Touch¨¦,¡± he said.

    Charlotte stopped, double-checked her map, looked up again, and turned. On her left was a tapestry of a mounted lancer squaring off against a rampant lion. She blinked, then brushed the tapestry aside, revealing a room behind. It was dominated by a heavy wooden table in the middle, covered in the signs of long use: scorch marks, chips, and cracks. Cupboards and cloth sacks of meal lined one wall; another had stoves, sinks, a grill, a giant skewer for large game, and an incongruous microwave oven. By the far corner was a doorway with no door, through which they could see a cluttered room washed in dusky light.

    ¡°I think I like this place,¡± Sue said. She walked in, shining her torch around. She found a free-dangling rope; when she pulled it, a gas lamp flared on overhead, casting flickering light around the room.

    ¡°Because it has badly-hidden secret passages, or because it has food?¡± Jason asked.

    ¡°You say that as though it has to be one or the other.¡± She checked inside a sack and pulled out a handful of its contents. ¡°Hey, this has wasabi peas!¡±

    Jason elbowed past the others to take some for himself. Michelle opened her mouth to ask why the Martins had stocked that but hadn¡¯t bothered to take down the tapestry, before deciding that as long as her friends were happy, it didn¡¯t matter.

    Aaron stepped forward. Normally, he had a bit of a slouch and he tended to fade into the back of a group, content to do as others said, but here, in a kitchen, in his Domain, he straightened his back and shoulders, making him look half a head taller, standing as a king among paupers. Everyone instinctively moved to make way for him.

    ¡°Ingredients,¡± he said, and it came out as an order. ¡°Lay out what we have on the table.¡± Michelle and Lucia hurried to gather their packs and empty the cupboards. ¡°Cookware. On this end.¡± Charlotte and Roger scrambled to obey. ¡°You two ¡­¡± Sue and Jason stopped guiltily. ¡°Wash your hands and boil water in this pot. Tonight, I will Cook.¡±

    ¡°What are you making?¡± Michelle asked.

    He watched her and Lucia, fixating on specific items that looked particularly fresh or appealing, checking for signs of quality invisible to any of the others. ¡°We will prepare a lamb and beef tenderloin stew with assorted Oriental vegetables, with a side of challah and French cheeses, followed by chocolate mousse with the finest cream you have ever tasted.¡±

    They stared at him, awestruck.

    ¡°Everyone, wash your hands! Cutting boards, meat knives, here and here! Flour, eggs, sugar, honey, raisins, yeast, salt, olive oil, here. I¡¯ll measure them out. Stirring fork. More boiling water!¡±

    Something about him radiated pure inspiration, and they obeyed without question. He was like an orchestra¡¯s conductor, coordinating everyone and giving instructions while simultaneously cracking eggs and measuring out exact weights without using a measuring cup. He was everywhere, somehow seeing over people¡¯s shoulders a moment before they made mistakes and catching them, giving tips on correct slicing and heating techniques.

    Once Sue and Jason had set several pots to boil, using all the oven¡¯s burners on full to get it done quickly, Aaron shooed them out, directing them to find a dining table and set it. They nodded, bright-eyed, and hurried out on their mission.

    The open doorway led to a child¡¯s nursery, full of cribs, plushies, and assorted toys. Pentagram stars were painted on the walls and ceiling; a skylight showed the sky was turning dark purple, the full moon directly overhead. A music box on a dresser was playing Greensleeves, its quiet notes making their hair stand on end as they passed.

    They pushed through the nursery into a banquet hall that looked like it had once been a mess hall built for a very large army. Three long dining tables filled the centre of the room, illuminated by a spotlight in one corner of the room.

    ¡°Should we find somewhere smaller?¡± Jason asked. ¡°There are only seven of us; you could fit seven hundred in here.¡±

    Sue shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m okay with it. Think of it as an indoor picnic.¡±

    On the far wall was a row of cabinets. They went to investigate; inside were drawers full of screwdrivers, daggers, pinned butterflies, and finally cutlery and plates.

    Jason kept glancing at the spotlight. ¡°I can see why Michelle wants to sell this place,¡± he said. ¡°I know I¡¯m an Internet junkie, but imagine not having electricity. I hope there¡¯s proper plumbing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Sue said absently. ¡°Hey, Jason ¡­ when Michelle asked us to come here, I was thinking¡± she brushed against him ¡°a step or two ahead of just having a sleepover. I¡¯ve got something else on my mind, something fun I¡¯d like to do with you later, in private?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± he said. ¡°Like what?¡±

    She furrowed her eyebrows. ¡°Seriously, Jason? A nubile young girl suggestively asks to go somewhere private with you, and you ask what she wants to do? I¡¯m giving you two Heterosexuality Demerit points for that.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I know you pretty well,¡± he said. ¡°If you wanted to mack on me, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯d just say it. Or, like, say it with body language.¡± He tried to flutter his eyelids, with limited success. ¡°That was way too verbose. It sounded more like you wanted to make an elaborate double entendre and you¡¯re really thinking of something completely unrelated.¡±

    She poked out her tongue. ¡°It¡¯s not completely out of character,¡± she said. ¡°But fine. You know how I¡¯m into the occult?¡±

    ¡°I try not to encourage it,¡± he said.

    She waved this aside. ¡°I did my homework on this place. There¡¯ve been paranormal events since it was founded. Various types of ghosts, mostly, but also less-substantiated rumours of zombies, skeletons, that sort of thing. Half the weird architecture is to make ley line resonance. This is a nexus for magic shenanigans.¡±

    ¡°Or as I like to call them, shen-shens,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°You want to do a magic spell?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± she said. ¡°So, are you interested?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said honestly, ¡°I don¡¯t believe in ghosts, but if you need someone to help, I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    She pulled him into a hug and butted her head against his jawline. ¡°Thanks, Jase.¡±

    Back in the kitchen, Aaron had directed Roger and Charlotte to chop meat and vegetables. Charlotte looked at the two very sharp knives; seeing this, Roger deftly moved into her personal space in a way that made her instinctively step back, putting her in front of the bowl of batter, which Aaron had left unattended for the moment. Rather than admit she hadn¡¯t meant to do that, she took the stirring fork and set to beating the batter. Aaron glanced back at them, shrugged, and took the other knife and began dicing the beef faster than Roger could slice it.

    ¡°We split cooking back at our place,¡± Roger said. ¡°Mum¡¯s got some funny ideas about nutrition. Where¡¯d you learn all this, though? Older siblings?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m an only child,¡± Aaron said. Despite being so experienced, he paid close attention to the knife, mindful of the blade and careful to cut away from himself. ¡°I learned how to cook from Aunt Beatrix. My parents hate her, they think she¡¯s mad, so I used to go over after school all the time when I was in primary, and she¡¯s obsessed with cooking. She spends about ten hours a day in the kitchen.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with your parents?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°That you¡¯d avoid them like that?¡±

    Aaron shrugged, his focus and his knife steady, picking his words carefully. ¡°They are ¡­ overwhelming sometimes. They have Ideas about what their son should be like, and they get Upset when it doesn¡¯t turn out that way. It¡¯s not that big a deal, seriously. I think we¡¯ll probably get along better after I move out for uni.¡±

    She frowned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound healthy. Why don¡¯t you try to get along better?¡±

    He thought for a moment. ¡°Because it¡¯s a two-way street. What makes you think I¡¯m the one being unreasonable about it?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that,¡± she said, colouring. ¡°It¡¯s just, I really wouldn¡¯t like being in that situation, and you sounded okay with it.¡±

    ¡°More resigned. Sometimes, things just suck, and you just have to put up with it.¡±

    Over by the ovens, Michelle and Lucia were busy with the mousse. They¡¯d assumed something like that would be very difficult to make, but the individual steps were actually quite simple once Aaron separated the egg whites and yolks for them. Lucia was whisking a bowl of batter, while Michelle was mixing gooey chocolate with butter, surreptitiously dipping her finger in and licking it clean from time to time. Michelle had tied her hair into a ponytail, but Lucia¡¯s hair was frizzing out into a mane.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how much I needed this,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°What, calories?¡± Lucia asked.

    Michelle elbowed her. ¡°Speak for yourself, snake hips. No, having someone else say what to do and what we¡¯ll all eat.¡±

    ¡°I thought you liked giving orders,¡± Lucia said. ¡°I¡¯m not saying you¡¯re bossy, but ¡­¡±

    ¡°I like people to be coordinated,¡± Michelle said. ¡°If nobody were running this show¡± she gestured around the room with her whisk ¡°we¡¯d be eating cookie dough and leathery sultanas right now. You have to have order, dear Lucy. But it¡¯s exhausting having to be that person all the time.¡±

    Lucia raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

    ¡°Hey, put those down. I¡¯m not a tyrant. I let other people take charge or make their own decisions when they want. But sometimes, people need to work together, and sometimes they need some encouragement to do that. Don¡¯t act like you¡¯ve never walked into a group of fifteen people who all want to play soccer, but they just stand around in groups of five, kicking flat balls around, unless you come along and say we¡¯re forming teams.¡±

    ¡°I said nothing,¡± Lucia said. ¡°I¡¯m not disagreeing or anything.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing it nonverbally.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Lucia said, ¡°social situations call for roles, and they get filled, no matter who¡¯s there. If two people walk into a room, whoever is taller is the tall one, and they¡¯re in charge of getting things off high shelves, even if they¡¯re both tall or both short. If there¡¯s one girl in a room, all the boys will sniff after her, even if she¡¯s¡± she cast around for a nicer word than ¡®ugly¡¯ ¡°not the sort of girl any of them would normally be interested in. And if a leader is needed, whoever has the most initiative becomes the leader.¡±

    ¡°But not everyone is actually any good at being a leader,¡± Michelle insisted, stirring a little more forcefully than before. ¡°If both of those people are short, even the taller one can¡¯t get things off the top shelf. Besides, what if you are the one with the most initiative, and you don¡¯t take charge, but one with the second-most initiative knows you have more? They just stand there, looking at you like a kicked puppy, wondering what you¡¯re waiting for.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re not giving people enough credit,¡± Lucia said. ¡°Maybe the short/tall thing was a bad example, because you can¡¯t choose to be taller, but you can choose to be a leader, and you can grow into a role.¡±

    ¡°I can do that. You can do that. Anyone can do that. But do they?¡± Lucia said nothing. ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever been in class, and the teacher asks a question, and it¡¯s about something they covered thirty seconds ago, it¡¯s practically rhetorical, but nobody answers, and the entire room locks up? There are twenty or so kids in the room and at least half of them know the answer, but nobody says anything.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a social thing. You don¡¯t want to be the swot.¡±

    ¡°Put it down to whatever you want; it doesn¡¯t change the fact that everyone¡¯s time is wasted because nobody takes charge.¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± Lucia conceded. ¡°Is this why Aaron likes you so much? I don¡¯t know him that well, but I get the impression he doesn¡¯t like making his own decisions.¡± She paused and frowned. ¡°But I also wouldn¡¯t have thought he liked others making them for him.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m not a tyrant. I don¡¯t give orders, I give suggestions. I¡¯m a catalyst. I don¡¯t make him do anything he doesn¡¯t want to do; I just help him decide on things faster than he would on his own. But it¡¯s nice when someone else who knows what they¡¯re doing takes point every so often.¡±

    ¡°And we¡¯re a go,¡± Aaron said, bustling over to put ingredients into the stewpot. ¡°One of you, keep stirring this. Mix this and these and put this on a low heat.¡±

    ¡°What should we do now?¡± Charlotte asked.

    Aaron looked over at them with a critical eye at the stove, where various pots and pans were sizzling away. ¡°We can handle this. Go check on the others, and we¡¯ll finish up here. You can do extra washing up after.¡±

    Charlotte and Roger nodded and set off through the opening into the nursery.

    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± he asked, slowing down to quiet his footfalls.

    Charlotte tilted her head. ¡°Them cooking?¡±

    ¡°A girl singing. I don¡¯t know the song. It¡¯s sad.¡±

    They stood still, listening.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°I can only hear the wind.¡±

    Roger frowned. It was definitely a person singing, and he couldn¡¯t hear any wind. ¡°Never mind. Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Haunt 3

    The castle walls were thick enough to mute sounds from even the next room. While they were all together in one big group, they made enough noise to make up the difference, but with just two of them, the silence made the hairs stand up on the back of their necks, and they instinctively walked quietly.

    ¡°Do you,¡± Roger said, meaning to ask whether Charlotte had the feeling they were being watched, but he thought better of it and changed to, ¡°uh, do you know anything about how we¡¯re sleeping? I guess guys in one room, girls in one or two?¡±

    They passed into the banquet hall. Sue and Jason sat at one of the long tables, talking about something in voices pitched low; Sue and Charlotte traded waves.

    ¡°I guess it depends on what the bedrooms are like,¡± she said. ¡°This place is huge, so we could probably give everyone their own room if they really wanted, but ¡­ it¡¯s also kind of creepy. Isn¡¯t it nicer to have someone with you when you¡¯re sleeping in a strange place?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. Hey guys,¡± he said to Sue and Jason. He scanned the table, where they¡¯d laid out seven sets of plates and cutlery, the cutlery a mass of mismatched silverware all to the right of the plates. ¡°Aaron says they¡¯ll be done soon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief,¡± Jason said. ¡°I didn¡¯t realise how hungry I was, until I smelled that stew.¡±

    ¡°Just while we¡¯re waiting,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°do you want to unpack one of the games and get warmed up?¡±

    ¡°I thought we were exploring the castle after dinner?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Well, yeah, but it¡¯s late. We¡¯ll have to stop soon either way until morning, and I want to do something all together before we break.¡±

    The other three exchanged glances, a collective ¡®fair enough¡¯.

    Roger opened his bag; she rifled through, took out a box, and opened it on a table. They sat around, two on either side. Jason took the instructions and began reading.

    ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to play this for a while now,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be a sort of cross between collaborative story-telling and Snap.¡±

    ¡°Pal,¡± Jason read aloud, ¡°or Punny Ad-Libs: a game for both those of strong spirits and the sober. Yes.¡±

    ¡°Heck yes,¡± said Sue.

    ¡°Hoo boy,¡± said Roger. ¡°Wait, is this a drinking game? Aren¡¯t you all underage? Michelle specifically told me she needed someone with a driver¡¯s licence.¡±

    ¡°Has that ever stopped anyone?¡± Jason asked.

    ¡°Speaking as someone who at least tries to be responsible, and who has an underage sister ¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a drinking game,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Come on, Rog, I wouldn¡¯t suggest that, and anyway, it¡¯s hard enough coming up with puns normally. It¡¯s just a tagline.¡±

    ¡°That, and a constant barrage of forced puns makes most people wish they were drunk,¡± Sue said.

    ¡°Pretty much. So you each get seven cue cards,¡± Charlotte said, dealing them face-down to everyone. ¡°They have a picture. When it¡¯s your turn, you can play one or more of them and say a sentence or two, using them as prompts, that join with what the last person said, to tell a story. There are also mad libs cards for if you can¡¯t think of anything, and you put prompts into the blanks. You can use the picture however you want; noun, verb, adjective, or even abstract things like mood, if you want.¡±

    ¡°Where do the puns come in?¡± Sue asked. ¡°And do you redraw?¡±

    ¡°Yes. When you¡¯re done, other people can jump in to tell a pun related to what you just said, which is also how it¡¯s like Snap. If they do, they get one point, or if they play a card related to it, three points. These little yellow tokens are worth one, the reds are five, and green are twenty. We probably won¡¯t get that high, though.¡±

    ¡°This sounds hellish,¡± Roger said.

    Charlotte looked at him with wide, soulful eyes. He sighed silently and picked up his cards. They had pretty watercolour pictures, like a cat sitting on a velvet cushion or a girl in a forest, dressed in a red cloak. He tried to think how to combine them into a story, and blanked.

    Sue took a mad libs card. ¡°Huh,¡± she said. ¡°If this is what they¡¯re expecting, I might have been overthinking this. I guess I¡¯ll start.¡± She hemmed and hawed for a minute, then laid down two cards: a short redheaded girl, and a library with a wide glass front. ¡°Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived by a library.¡± She hesitated, then laid down a third card. ¡°And she had a pet bee.¡±

    Roger opened his mouth to question this.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to take it too seriously,¡± Charlotte said, correctly divining his thoughts.

    ¡°It didn¡¯t just fly away?¡± Jason asked, poker-faced. ¡°It sounds very well-bee-hived.¡± He revealed a card with a house, and took three yellow counters and a new card. ¡°Er, let me think ¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh, you keep going in the same turn order,¡± Charlotte said, fumbling with her hand. ¡°Um, one day, the bee ¡­ uh. One day the girl invited her all friends around for a party.¡±

    Roger frowned. His cards all looked completely unworkable. Maybe you just needed practice, or possibly lower standards. He selected Little Red Riding Hood and one with a leather-bound tome on it. ¡°One of her friends wandered away from the party to look for a book.¡±

    ¡°Little Red Riding Hood is wandering off?¡± Sue asked. ¡°I guess the wolf tried to lure her off the path while she was going out, even if he didn¡¯t succeed ¡­¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Roger said seriously, ¡°she¡¯s for bad eyesight. Can¡¯t tell a serial killer from a harmless granny, can¡¯t find a book in a library.¡± Charlotte snickered, reached across the table for the bag of points, and slid him one.

    Jason riffled his hand and played a card that looked like a shadowy Rorschach blot. ¡°But she wasn¡¯t looking for just any old book,¡± he said. He took his torch and put it below his face shining upwards, casting inverted shadows around his face, in the classic pose of someone telling a pulp horror story. ¡°This was one containing a dark, forbidden secret.¡±

    Sue slapped down a gorilla holding a sword aloft. ¡°Nor was it a bold ook. Booyeah!¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Jason checked the rules. ¡°Do Spoonerisms count? It specifically says puns, but most people take that to mean all kinds of wordplay. It¡¯s a rich and nuanced field.¡±

    ¡°Screw you,¡± she said, taking three tokens, ¡°I¡¯m keeping these. Because that was my last good card. Seriously, look at this hot mess.¡± She laid her hand face-up. ¡°Just look at these. How the heck am I going to use a spacecraft? Or ¡­ purple squiggles around some guy¡¯s head? What even is it? Can we cycle cards?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything about that,¡± said Jason, leafing through the instructions. ¡°We could house-rules it. But I don¡¯t know, it might be better if you don¡¯t, even if you think your ideas are stupid. It¡¯ll be more organic and creative that way.¡±

    Sue raised an eyebrow, then pushed two of her cards forward. ¡°Hold my figurative beer, then. The reason why her friend was looking for the Necronomicon, was that her pet bee ¡­ was actually a mind-controlling god bee bent on world domination!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I vote we house-rule we can cycle cards,¡± Roger said. ¡°No offence, Sue.¡±

    ¡°Keikaku doori,¡± she said.

    ¡°A vote?¡± Jason asked. ¡°Are we pollen, then?¡± Charlotte broke down giggling, and he took another chip.

    Roger looked at his cards and mentally kicked himself. He had a flower: he could¡¯ve said that one, and got three points for it.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing Michelle isn¡¯t here right now,¡± Sue said. ¡°She hates puns.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± he said. ¡°Imagine someone not liking puns. Her life must be so empty.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s why she¡¯s always so despundent,¡± Jason said, taking his fifth point.

    Roger let out another quiet sigh.

    Charlotte got herself back under control and picked out one of her cards. ¡°Ahem. But one of the girl¡¯s other friends knew about the god bee, and she set out to break its spell on the others.¡±

    None of Roger¡¯s cards really worked, so he played the cat. ¡°Along the way, she ran into a cat. In an unrelated development, she realised that the spell was too strong for her to break.¡±

    Jason put his torch under his chin again. ¡°So she set out on a quest to find the only being powerful enough to defeat a god. She set out ¡­ for the Guardian.¡±

    There was a pause.

    Sue blinked, looking from Jason to her cards and back again. ¡°Wait, can you say that again? I think I had something for that.¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± he said. ¡°Mind blank. What did I say?¡± He looked down the last card he played: blank. ¡°A wildcard, great. I think it was that she couldn¡¯t break the god bee¡¯s spell.¡±

    ¡°Something about spelling bees,¡± Sue said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to think of a pun about that since I said it,¡± Charlotte said sorrowfully.

    There came the sound of footsteps from the nursery. They looked up to see Aaron, Michelle, and Lucia, carrying large pots and plates. A rich, meaty aroma wafted ahead of them, forming a tapestry of deliciousness together with the cloying smell of the cheeses that Aaron had found somewhere, the fresh bread, and the sweetness of the chocolate mousse.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s ready,¡± Aaron announced. ¡°Let¡¯s eat.¡±

    They gathered around the set places and waited impatiently as Aaron ladled servings of stew and Lucia offered the bread and cheese platter, then dug in ravenously.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Charlotte breathed reverentially. ¡°This is amazing.¡±

    Aaron took a sip of the stew. His brow creased.

    ¡°It¡¯s not perfect,¡± he said.

    ¡°Uh,¡± she said, not quite understanding. ¡°It¡¯s excellent? I¡¯m sure this is the best thing I¡¯ve ever had. There¡¯s enough for seconds, right? I eat a lot.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t eat a lot,¡± said Michelle, ¡°and I want seconds too.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t eat much because you only know how to make microwave meals,¡± he said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t know how to do anything more, it¡¯s that I can¡¯t be bothered.¡±

    ¡°Are you from like a family of restauranteurs or something?¡± Jason asked, scooping one seventh of the cheese onto his plate.

    ¡°An aunt,¡± Aaron said. He sipped again. ¡°When there¡¯s only one flaw, it sticks out even more. Especially if you know you can do it without any flaws at all. Have you seen those meme images of a tiled floor, where one tile is out of place?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still fantastic,¡± Roger said. He drank a spoonful of the stew, and warmth flooded down his throat, a rich flavour that didn¡¯t taste like any spices he knew. It was like Aaron had distilled the platonic ideal of lamb meat. Roger had been the one to do the chopping, and he still had no idea how that worked.

    They polished off most of the stew and bread and all of the cheese, and were halfway into the mousse, when company arrived. Light footsteps pattered in from a doorway, and everyone looked up. It was a late teenage girl in a dark grey, woollen, shin-length nightie, holding a storm lantern at chest height. She stopped at the threshold and raised the lantern, so that they could see her face: heart-shaped, pale skin, dark brown eyes behind black oval glasses, brown hair in a long ponytail. She stood there silently, her eyes tracking over each of them in turn. It seemed like she fixed on him and Charlotte for longer than the others. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

    ¡°Uh, hi,¡± Charlotte called out nervously. ¡°W-would you like something to eat? This is really nice, and we have leftovers.¡±

    The girl stared for a moment longer, then said, ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯m not really hungry.¡± Her voice was soft to the point of being hard to make out, like she wasn¡¯t used to projecting to more than one person at a time.

    Roger noticed her nostrils twitching and had the distinct impression she was lying. He looked harder at her. There was something irresistably familiar about her. ¡°Don¡¯t I know you from somewhere?¡±

    Her eyes flicked back to him, her face unreadable. ¡°Maybe. I travel a lot.¡±

    Michelle swallowed her spoonful of mousse, pushed out her chair, and got to her feet. ¡°You two are so awkward,¡± she muttered at Roger and Charlotte, then, louder, to the girl, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Michelle Bright. I¡¯ve just inherited this castle. You must be Mr Martin¡¯s older daughter?¡±

    The girl nodded. ¡°Jill. Pleased to meet you.¡± She took a few steps forward. Roger followed her eyes to the game they¡¯d been playing, to the blank card Jason had played. ¡°Seven of you. That¡¯s a large group.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°we,¡± she flinched under Jill¡¯s piercing gaze, ¡°uh, we thought it¡¯d be like a sort of slumber party ¡­¡±

    ¡°I wanted to inspect my new property,¡± Michelle said, talking over Charlotte.

    ¡°We¡¯re looking for treasure,¡± Sue explained.

    Michelle very visibly restrained herself from facepalming.

    Jill considered this for a moment. ¡°I see,¡± she said. ¡°You should be careful with that. This place is dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Does it need maintenance?¡± Michelle asked, sitting back down.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Jill, ¡°but I was referring to the ghosts. This place is badly haunted. You shouldn¡¯t go off alone.¡±

    ¡°Ghosts aren¡¯t real,¡± Michelle said.

    Jill shrugged, not interested in arguing the point.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you alone yourself, just now?¡± Lucia said.

    ¡°I can take care of myself,¡± said Jill. She turned to leave.

    ¡°Uh, wait,¡± Charlotte called out again. ¡°Won¡¯t you stay for a bit? The food is really good, and we¡¯d like it if you could show us around later.¡±

    ¡°Not tonight,¡± Jill said. ¡°I have something I need to check on. Enjoy your dessert, Charlotte.¡±

    And she glided out.

    ¡°Did I tell her my name?¡± Charlotte murmured to herself.

    ¡°Speaking of ghosts,¡± Aaron said, louder and at the same time.

    ¡°Speaking of treasure,¡± Michelle said. She slid out of her chair.

    ¡°You think she knows where it is,¡± said Roger, ¡°and she¡¯s going to hide it?¡±

    ¡°I think she knows something. Could she get any more suspicious? Everyone, stay here; I¡¯m going to follow her.¡±

    ¡°Hey, uh,¡± Sue said, pushing her chair back, ¡°why don¡¯t Jason and I go? Everyone should do something, and you¡¯re the best at organising people. It might as well be us.¡±

    Michelle paused, looking from Sue to Jason. ¡°You know, you¡¯ve got a point. Keep quiet and hurry up. She could lose you if there are more secret passages.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Sue said. She caught Jason¡¯s eye and jerked her head to go; he took a torch, and they left.

    ¡°Out of all of us,¡± Aaron said, pitching his voice low, ¡°you picked them to try to shadow someone?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said, ¡°I picked them to be the decoy. There¡¯s no way she can hear me with those two trying to sneak around. Stay here while I actually follow her.¡± And with that, without taking a light, she set off after Sue and Jason.

    Roger, Charlotte, Aaron, and Lucia exchanged glances.

    ¡°So,¡± said Charlotte, ¡°do either of you like puns?¡±

    ¡°Does anyone?¡± said Aaron.

    ¡°Not really,¡± Lucia said at the same time. ¡°Why?¡±

    Roger pumped his fist.

 Haunt 4

    Jill walked through one hallway after another, her bare feet almost silent on the dusty carpet. She passed a row of stained glass windows, red and orange that shimmered like fire as she moved; past a working cannon, complete with piles of powder and ammunition; past a collapsed gallery full of torn painting canvases; and finally out into a central courtyard.

    It had eight sides, evenly spaced, all with doors leading back into the castle. In the very centre was a keep, a final fortress against any invader who managed to breach the outer walls. Between the two were paths with stone paving, leading between terraces with gardens, gravestones, fountains, and nude statues. The sky was indigo, dotted with stars and the full moon; the terraces were strewn with lanterns, pools of light in the darkness.

    She ignored everything else and went straight for the keep. It had a heavy oak door with a brass knocker shaped like a grinning skull. Occult symbols carved into it and the frame. She pushed at the door, and it swung open easily.

    Inside was a high-vaulted room. Near the centre, further from the door, was a plain marble altar, large enough to serve as an extremely uncomfortable bed. Around the walls were wooden pedestals, sitting photos on stands, vases with flowers, and hundreds of candles, enough to brightly illuminate the entire room. The floor was paved with wide granite blocks; the walls were tiled, all subtly different shades of light grey, so as to form geometric patterns; and the ceiling was given over to a giant stained glass wasp.

    Jill stood at the threshold, clenching a fist. Presently, she spoke. ¡°Do you want a closer look?¡±

    Behind her, Sue and Jason jumped. They exchanged guilty, panicked looks, then shrugged and came forward out of the shadows.

    ¡°Is this some sort of miniature cathedral?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jill said. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to figure that out for a while now, but I still don¡¯t really know. I¡¯m seventy-five percent sure it means doom, though. It could have been coincidences.¡± She looked up at the ceiling, the image of the wasp. ¡°But it probably wasn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Sue asked. ¡°What was coincidences?¡± She leaned forward and squinted, but Jill was standing in the doorway. ¡°Who are those photos of?¡±

    Jill thought for a few moments. ¡°Sometime tonight, there¡¯s going to be a disaster,¡± she said. She stepped backward, letting Sue in. Jason stayed at the threshold, looking from one girl to the other. ¡°Someone here is going to do something they shouldn¡¯t, and cause or fail to prevent some sort of catastrophe. I don¡¯t know the details, but you and your friends, or any of you who survive long enough, will need shelter.¡±

    Sue was only half-listening, instead focusing on the photos. ¡°Hey, these are all of Lottie. These are ¨C what are you, a stalker? These can¡¯t be legal. She¡¯s not even dressed in this one.¡±

    Jason¡¯s eyebrows had been rising steadily while Jill talked, but at this, he pushed past her into the shrine to look over Sue¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°They¡¯re not mine,¡± Jill said, then, without pausing, ¡°When that happens, you must not come here.¡±

    ¡°Put a pin in that,¡± Jason said. ¡°This is a five-star stalker shrine, and you¡¯re not surprised at all. You¡¯ve seen this before. Who made it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know her name,¡± Jill said. ¡°The one who made it, not Charlotte. I¡¯ve run into her a few times, though. We aren¡¯t friends.¡± Her face was unreadable.

    ¡°Well, what do you know about her?¡± he asked. ¡°What does she look like, where was she last time ¡­¡±

    She blinked slowly. ¡°If you¡¯re thinking of trying to arrest her, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°None of you stands a chance against her.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand any of this,¡± Sue said. ¡°What, is she a pro martial artist or something?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Jill said. She turned to leave. ¡°All you need to know is that, when whatever it is that¡¯s going to go wrong goes wrong, you don¡¯t come here, and at all costs, you don¡¯t let Charlotte here. There¡¯s a place in the catacombs that¡¯s safe. There are heavy doors, and it¡¯s even got abjurations against malevolent spirits.¡±

    ¡°Are we going there now?¡± Sue asked. She and Jason moved to the keep doorway.

    ¡°You might as well go over there,¡± Jill said, ¡°to make sure you know your way around and can guide Charlotte there when the time comes. You¡¯ll probably be in a hurry then. You can access it through the plum wine cellar on the east side. I don¡¯t have time to take you there, though. I need to prepare for the encounter with the ¡®stalker¡¯.¡±

    With that, she walked off, her bare feet padding against the paving stones or rustling on the grass. Once she was out of sight, Michelle hurried to the keep.

    ¡°You were supposed to tail her, not talk to her,¡± she said.

    ¡°Were you following us following her?¡± Jason asked, as he and Sue left the shrine. ¡°This is getting ridiculous.¡±

    Michelle waved this aside. ¡°What did she say?¡±

    ¡°Something about a disaster coming, and that we should hide in some catacombs,¡± Sue said. ¡°She ¨C¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s insane,¡± Jason interrupted. ¡°Horror movie insane, and either she or her even crazier friend, who¡¯s probably imaginary, is criminally obsessed with Charlotte. We need to go back to the others and barricade ourselves in, or even better, just nope out of here altogether.¡±

    ¡°She might have been faking it, trying to scare us away from the treasure,¡± Michelle said.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± said Sue. ¡°Either way, she¡¯s just one person.¡±

    ¡°I think it matters a lot, actually,¡± Jason said, his voice rising. ¡°And I don¡¯t think this ¡®treasure¡¯ is ¨C¡±

    Michelle shushed him. ¡°Keep your voice down. Look, maybe she¡¯s starkers, maybe not, but we can cover both bases. You two go back and warn the others to be on guard, then keep exploring. Stay in pairs. I¡¯ll keep watching her.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Were you not joking with that Scooby Doo reference earlier?¡± Jason asked. ¡°Because splitting up is not a good idea right now.¡±

    ¡°Stop whining and move it,¡± she hissed. ¡°Shoot, which way did she go ¡­¡± And she jogged out into the courtyard, hesitated, and took the same path Jill had.

    ¡°Oh, wonderful,¡± Jason said, running his hands through his hair, ¡°this is exactly how every horror story since ever started.¡±

    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t,¡± Sue said, walking off, motioning him to follow. ¡°Jill¡¯s a weirdo; that doesn¡¯t make her a serial killer.¡±

    ¡°She says, half an hour after being told that the previous owner of this castle was brutally murdered. The only treasure is going to be her severed head collection.¡± He blinked. ¡°Uh, I think we¡¯ve been turned around. This isn¡¯t the way we came in from. I don¡¯t recognise any of these statues.¡±

    ¡°No, I know exactly where we are,¡± Sue said. They were at one of the eight doorways leading back into the castle. She pointed to the top, where they could just make out the letter E in the dark. ¡°East wing. The plum wine cellar can¡¯t be far.¡±

    ¡°Oh you have got to be joking,¡± he said.

    ¡°Michelle wanted us to look for treasure,¡± she said, pushing the door open, ¡°and where better than somewhere that that Jill girl obviously thinks is important?¡±

    ¡°My personal plan A was to warn Charlotte that that Jill girl had a ten-year stalker shrine of her,¡± he said. ¡°You know, like Michelle just said to do.¡±

    ¡°Michelle only said that because she didn¡¯t have enough time to think it through,¡± Sue replied. ¡°Roger is with Lottie. If Jill tries anything, he¡¯ll stop her.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You still want to cast that magic spell,¡± he realised. She said nothing. ¡°Sue ¡­¡±

    She stopped, sighed, and turned to face him. ¡°Okay. You got me. I don¡¯t really care about the treasure, if there even is any.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I,¡± he said, ¡°but Charlotte might be in real danger. That¡¯s got to take priority.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain it properly,¡± said Sue, ¡°but this is really important to me. You¡¯re not wrong, and if you want to go back, I won¡¯t blame you. I can probably do this on my own. But ¡­¡±

    ¡°I promised I¡¯d help you,¡± he said. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t want to leave you on your own somewhere Jill might come back to, and I kind of don¡¯t want to go off by myself either. Just promise me, you¡¯ll be as quick as you can, and after we¡¯re done here, we¡¯ll go straight back to Charlotte?¡±

    ¡°Cross my heart,¡± she said, drawing an x over it with her finger. She dimpled up at him. ¡°Now let¡¯s find that cellar.¡±

    This part of the castle was in bad shape. There were mould spots all over the walls, holes in the floorboards, and water stains everywhere. Sue led Jason into another pantry, this one with flour scattered across the floor; they flinched as swarms of moths rose in response to their footsteps and lights, then they pressed on. Past this was a Roman-style bathhouse, with a wide pool through the centre of the room, too dark to see the bottom even with their torches.

    ¡°Hey, Sue,¡± Jason whispered. ¡°This isn¡¯t really a castle, is it?¡±

    She automatically shook her head, then said, ¡°No. Or at least, not just a castle, not according to my research. Castles were supposed to be fortresses against raiders. An army comes along that you can¡¯t beat, you lock yourself and everything valuable inside the castle, and wait for them to go away, right? This one could theoretically be used for that, but there weren¡¯t any raiders in the time and place it was built. It was supposed to be a sort of occult radio tower, used for espionage. You build magically resonant architecture, put a few dozen espers there, and you have something that works sort of like a spy satellite. It can scry on anywhere within hundreds or even thousands of kilometres, and do all sorts of other magical information gathering.¡±

    ¡°That all assumes that magic is real,¡± he observed.

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said complacently. ¡°So some guy who¡¯s into the occult does that, but it¡¯s a larger scale than anyone has ever done before, so they didn¡¯t realise that you need containment procedures. It¡¯s like, smoke alarms have a bit of radioactive material in them, and they¡¯re fine, but if you want an entire nuclear reactor, you need shielding. If you don¡¯t have shielding, everyone gets cancer. Or in this case, goes crazy. I did my research. There¡¯s been violent insanity in Michelle¡¯s family line on Maurice¡¯s side, ever since this castle¡¯s foundation stones were laid.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really not selling me on this,¡± he said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she said. ¡°It happened from sustained use with multiple espers. I¡¯m planning to do a single spell, with just the two of us, and dismiss it once we¡¯re done. Besides, you think it won¡¯t even work.¡±

    Past the pool was a room taken up by a giant chessboard, each square two metres across. The pieces were massive black or white stone gargoyles, scattered across the board; the game was in progress. It was hard to tell, walking among the pieces, but it looked like black was attacking the white king.

    ¡°What kind of spell are we casting, anyway?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Technically, it¡¯s necromancy,¡± she said.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°I said technically. The -mancy suffix means you¡¯re trying to get information out of it. Raising the dead is properly called necrourgy, but that word sounds kind of dirty so no-one ever uses it.¡±

    ¡°Well, as long as it¡¯s only a technical abomination,¡± he said.

    ¡°It¡¯s an old superstition that the dead know all things, because there¡¯s no use in the gods keeping secrets from those who can¡¯t do anything with them any more. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s actually true, because it relies on a whole lot of baggage about gods and the afterlife, but it is probably true that the dead at least know what they knew while they were alive. We¡¯re going to revive a spirit, ask it how it died, and put it back where we found it.¡±

    ¡°Just for the record,¡± he said, ¡°the next time you want to do something like this, call it a s¨¦ance, not necromancy.¡±

    Past the chess room was one full of old kilns and smashed pottery, bits of jars and statuettes. Ceramic dust crunched underfoot. In the centre was a dark orange weeping angel with its right arm broken off. Sue and Jason both gave it a wide berth.

    ¡°Where do you think Jill went?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What did she say, off to prepare for the stalker?¡± She frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that could mean. She has a little sister, right, who her dad drove off when we got here. Maybe she¡¯s the one who made the shrine, and Jill is waiting to tell her to get rid of it before one of us calls the cops?¡±

    Jason considered this. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ actually pretty reasonable. Kids are weird. Maybe I¡¯ve been overreacting. What about all the stuff about an impending catastrophe?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s a psychic too,¡± Sue said. ¡°She could have already used this castle to cast her own spells. It wouldn¡¯t have to be necromancy; it could be a past or future life, or something else altogether. No idea what sort of catastrophe it could be, though, if it even applies to us. Hey, over here!¡±

    A large pile of porcelain shards leaned against the wall. They¡¯d passed it by without a second thought, but Sue¡¯s light glinted off it in a weird way, and they looked closer. There was a door behind it. She tested one piece, found it was sharp, shrugged, and mule-kicked the pile; it fell to the ground, spraying porcelain across the room with a loud crash. They both winced at the noise, even though Jill already knew where they were, and they weren¡¯t hiding from anyone else.

    Sue tried the door. ¡°Locked. I guess that the key is either in this room or nearby, or there¡¯s a master key somewhere. Jill would know about it.¡±

    While she spoke, Jason squinted at the door. He shrugged and rammed it with his shoulder. Rotting wood gave way like tissue paper; he crashed straight through and bounced down the stairs.

    ¡°Jeez! Jase, are you okay?¡±

    His voice floated out of the stairwell. ¡°I¡¯m fine. My spine broke my fall.¡±

    Sue carefully climbed through the opening and picked her way down a stone staircase, making sure to check everything with her flashlight before trusting it with her weight. Jason was at the bottom, rubbing his hip.

    ¡°That was dumb,¡± she said sternly.

    ¡°I assumed it¡¯d be solid enough that I could stop if it broke,¡± he said ruefully.

    She took his hand and leaned back, pulling him to his feet, then hugged him. ¡°Idiot. Come on.¡±

 Haunt 5

    The cellar was even dustier than the pottery room. On all sides were racks of bottles of every colour, shape, and size, from amphorae larger than Sue down to tiny vials the size of her little toe. Jason took a wine bottle, eased out the cork, and sniffed. He raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but it smells like a cross between plums and aviation fuel,¡± he said.

    ¡°Well, at least it sounds like we¡¯re in the right place,¡± she said. ¡°Put it back. Old booze is supposed to be priceless; if Michelle yells at us, we can tell her we found her stupid treasure.¡±

    At the far end of the cellar was a wooden door, this one in much better condition than the one above had been. She tried it: unlocked. It slid open silently. Past it were three more stone steps leading down into a dirt-floor corridor that forked and zigzagged out of sight in both directions. They hesitated.

    ¡°This looks like a good way to be lost for days,¡± said Jason, ¡°while Jill comes around and bricks us in.¡±

    Sue rummaged in her bag and produced a piece of blue chalk. She scribbled a five-pointed star on the wall in front of them.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she said.

    ¡°Urgh,¡± he said, but he followed her. ¡°If she does brick us in and we¡¯re starving to death, I get to eat you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± she said.

    As they went along, Sue drew arrows pointing back to the entrance, although they stuck to the left-hand wall and didn¡¯t really need them. There was a sweet earthy smell, and the sound of dripping water. It steadily grew colder; they had the feeling they were going downward. After a minute, they came to the first coffin.

    It was in a little alcove in a three-way junction. The coffin was slightly longer than Jason was tall, and it was bright red with pastel green spots. They stopped to stare.

    ¡°,¡± said Jason. ¡°Blind shot in the dark here, do you think Jill painted this?¡±

    Sue bent over and swiped a finger along the surface. ¡°No dust. It¡¯s recent.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really starting to not like her. Hey, what are you doing?¡±

    Sue had dug her fingernails into the cracks under the lid. ¡°Seeing what¡¯s inside, duh.¡±

    ¡°See,¡± he said blandly, ¡°this is the difference between men and women. When a man sees a coffin, his first thought is something other than to desecrate it, but if it¡¯s a woman, there¡¯s no stopping you. Personally, I think it¡¯s hormonal.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably the single clearest example of the sexes having different psychology,¡± she said with a nod.

    She got the lid up and off, and it thudded to the floor. Sue and Jason leaned forward and shone their lights into it. Inside was a yellowed skeleton wearing a plastic lei and a broad-brimmed velvet hat with a purple ostrich feather.

    ¡°This is exactly what I¡¯m talking about,¡± he said.

    Sue ran her fingertips over the teeth. ¡°Welp. I¡¯m not really sure what I expected, but it wasn¡¯t this. It definitely feels real.¡±

    ¡°Can we just put the lid back on and go?¡±

    ¡°This uncanny valley stuff is probably why clowns are so terrifying,¡± Sue mused. She and Jason took one end of the lid each and clumsily handled it back into place. ¡°Jill might be training to become one.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that,¡± he said with a shiver.

    ¡°Are you afraid of clowns?¡± she asked, surprised.

    He gave her a look of please don¡¯t make me explain the joke.

    They passed another coffin, painted pink and strewn with tinsel, and another in red and yellow. A Siamese cat sat on this last one, busy washing its thighs. It briefly paused as they approached, then went back to work.

    The hallway turned and opened up to a huge cavern, so wide that their flashlight beams couldn¡¯t reach the far walls. They were on a short ledge. Slightly higher than them, stalactites hung from the ceiling; far below, there was dark water, still and smooth as ice.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Sue breathed.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Jason found a pebble in the ground and threw it as hard as he could; it arced through the air for long seconds before vanishing into the water with a barely audible splash.

    ¡°Okay, even I¡¯ll admit that this is pretty cool,¡± he said.

    ¡°It¡¯s freezing,¡± she replied. She breathed out a puff of air, which obligingly condensed into fog.

    ¡°Yeah, about that. This platform is just dirt. If it collapses and we fall in, we aren¡¯t getting back out. Let¡¯s come back with the others and some spelunking gear.¡±

    They turned around and kept walking.

    The hall forked and twisted around on itself, and Sue drew more arrows. Presently, they came to a double doorway made of thick wood, with runes carved into the top and bottom.

    ¡°This is it,¡± she said, excited. ¡°Come on in!¡±

    Through the doors was a wide circular room full of supplies and weapons. Along one end was a cluster of barrels, crates, and tins of nonperishable food, plus what looked like a well that had to connect to the aquifer. On the other end was a long rack laden with swords, muskets, ammunition, modern automatic guns, and a huge number of polearms with spikes in random-looking places. Around them were various tools, from flashlights to crowbars to car batteries, plus one final coffin in neon blue, pink, and green.

    Jason approached the weapons rack and checked the automatics. They were loaded. ¡°Sue. I think we¡¯ve just passed the threshold where we can keep pretending that Jill is harmless.¡±

    Sue went over. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ okay, wow. You¡¯re right. We¡¯ll finish up here and go right back.¡±

    ¡°Finish up?¡± he repeated incredulously. ¡°Sue, that girl was out of her mind, and now we know she has a stockpile of military hardware. She probably has more somewhere else. We¡¯ve got to warn the others and get out of here, now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll only take a minute.¡±

    ¡°Do you really want to bet we have a minute? We can come back any time, but not if she blows a hole in one of us first!¡±

    Sue moved some clutter from the centre of the room, shoving a stack of tins and a large box of hammers out of the way to make a clear space. ¡°I told you, I¡¯ve got to do this. If you really want, you can go back, and I¡¯ll follow once I¡¯m done here.¡±

    Jason ran his hands through his hair. Why must she be so stubborn? ¡°No way am I going off on my own, and no way am I leaving you alone. You ¡­ argh, fine. Let¡¯s do this.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± she said. She began drawing a circle on the ground. ¡°I¡¯ve got a journal in my bag, and a drawstring pouch with a bunch of reagents. I prepped everything ahead of time. All we need to do is finish the binding circle, get a body, and do the incantation. The journal has a page bookmarked, which has a full diagram for this circle. I¡¯ll need that; I don¡¯t know it by heart.¡±

    Jason rifled through her bag and found a blue paperback Pok¨¦mon diary. He opened it to the bookmark; there was a circle with baroque, geometric patterns around it. ¡°What do you mean, get a body?¡± he asked, although he didn¡¯t really want to know the answer.

    ¡°Spirits can¡¯t interact with the real world directly, so they need a body to animate. That¡¯s why I was checking the coffin before. Try that one over there.¡±

    He took a moment to weigh the pro of getting things done faster against the con of being complicit, and heaved a sigh of defeat. He was in deep enough already.

    Without complaining any more, he went over to the coffin and lifted its lid. Inside was a slim, dark-haired girl of about eleven, wearing a white shroud.

    ¡°Wow, someone had a good mortician,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s definitely much more recent than that other one. I wonder how she died.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re about to find out,¡± Sue said.

    He lifted her out of the coffin, as gently as he could manage. ¡°Weird that she isn¡¯t fancied up like the other one was,¡± he mused. ¡°Even though this is Jill¡¯s hideout.¡±

    ¡°Maybe Jill put those accessories into the coffins as she went, but she ran out halfway,¡± Sue said, not looking up from her work. ¡°It could even be her idea of marking her way.¡±

    Jason shrugged and carried her to the circle. ¡°I guess. Where do I put her?¡±

    ¡°Inside the circle, please. Make sure she doesn¡¯t scuff the chalk.¡±

    He laid her down, and Sue finished transcribing the circle around the girl. She double-checked it against the original.

    ¡°Looks good,¡± she said. She picked up the drawstring bag, pulled out three chunks of red rock, and pressed them into his hand. ¡°All you need to do is this: when I give the cue, throw these into the circle. Try not to hit her.¡±

    ¡°Ready.¡±

    Sue pulled out another six stones. ¡°Go.¡± He threw the rocks. ¡°Thrice to thine,¡± she dropped in three of hers, ¡°thrice to mine,¡± she tossed the last three, ¡°and thrice again, to make up nine.¡±

    There was a flash of white light.

    Jason rubbed spots from his eyes and looked. ¡°What happened? She isn¡¯t moving. Was that just magnesium or something?¡±

    Sue looked around, puzzled. ¡°No, this isn¡¯t a prank. You know me, I¡¯m way too lazy to put in this much effort just to troll you. Hey, can you hear me?¡± she asked the girl inside the circle.

    The girl yawned and sat up, stretching. ¡°Mm. I¡¯m not the spirit, though.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Jason. ¡°Apparently s¨¦ances are real. That¡¯s new.¡±

    ¡°Do you know why it didn¡¯t work?¡± Sue asked, crouching down so she was at eye level with the girl.

    ¡°This room is warded against undead,¡± she said. ¡°You awoke her, she came, she bounced off the wards. She¡¯s outside now, looking for some other body to use.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me,¡± Jason said, ¡°that one of those skeletons out there is walking around, animated by a long-dead spirit that we brought back, and we can¡¯t control it? And it¡¯s a skeleton, so it could play dead and we wouldn¡¯t know which it was until it jump-scared us from behind?¡±

    The girl blinked her honey-coloured eyes. ¡°Skeletons don¡¯t have muscle tissue. They¡¯re useless. She¡¯s going for one of your friends.¡±

    Sue and Jason exchanged glances.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, ¡°now let¡¯s hurry back and warn them.¡±

    ¡°Great idea,¡± he said, then, to the other girl, ¡°It¡¯s not safe here, not with that on the loose, not to mention Jill. You should come with us.¡±

    The girl yawned. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me.¡± She stood up, stretched, and climbed back into the coffin, lying on her front so as not to put weight on her dragonfly wings.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Sue asked.

    ¡°Come on,¡± said Jason, moving for the exit. ¡°She said not to worry about her.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± said Sue, and they left to head back to the surface.

 Haunt 6

    Every muscle in Roger¡¯s body was relaxed but alert, like some big cat that smells prey. He studied his hand. For every move his quarry might make, he had a counter.

    ¡°Eight of hearts,¡± Aaron said unnecessarily, playing the card.

    Roger tossed in the two; Lucia played the four; and Charlotte laid down the nine and took the trick.

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the rest are ours,¡± she said, laying her cards down face-up. She pushed the five of clubs forward. Aaron could have beaten that, but Roger held the ace.

    Lucia sat back, leaving her cards on the table. ¡°Maybe we should switch partners,¡± she said. ¡°How long have you two been playing whist for, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Years,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°I hate solo games. I could see why people would want to play something serious like poker on their own, because I wouldn¡¯t want to be responsible for someone else¡¯s money, but if you¡¯re just playing to have fun, shouldn¡¯t you want to have a friend helping you?¡±

    ¡°Also, she really hates losing,¡± said Roger, ¡°and it¡¯s hard to do that when nobody else has ever played it before.¡±

    ¡°I never understood that phrase,¡± she said. ¡°How many people do you know who do like losing?¡±

    Aaron tossed his cards in. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Charlotte,¡± said Lucia. ¡°I was wondering something. You know Jason pretty well, don¡¯t you? What¡¯s the deal with him and Sue? Are they dating or what?¡±

    Charlotte laughed, but there were nerves in it. ¡°No, nothing like that. They¡¯re totally platonic. They¡¯re just really good friends. I like him just fine, too. I just like different things to him, so we often both want to hang out with Sue.¡±

    Lucia glanced at Aaron.

    ¡°What?¡± he said.

    ¡°Do you think Charlotte¡¯s right?¡± she asked.

    He blinked and made an uncomfortable stuttering sound like ¡®urgl¡¯. ¡°Maybe? Why would I know?¡±

    ¡°Boys and girls can be just friends,¡± Charlotte insisted.

    Lucia looked at Roger instead. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I think most boys and girls don¡¯t want to be just friends,¡± he said. He gathered up all the cards and began riffle-shuffling. ¡°But some do, I suppose. Why, are you thinking of making a pass?¡±

    ¡°Tch,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°Not my type. No, I¡¯m just gossiping. He¡¯s a guy who hangs out with two single girls, and I don¡¯t think he¡¯s gay. Someone has to say it.¡±

    ¡°Hey, um,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Not to change the topic, but Aaron, how did you first meet Michelle? You¡¯re really close. It¡¯s pretty cute.¡±

    He raised his eyebrows, then gave a laconic shrug. ¡°She¡¯s kind of a hard girl to miss.¡±

    ¡°Okay, but, like ¡­ when did you both decide that you¡¯d always spend your time together? What was it that made you think it was what you both wanted?¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t decide that,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re not joined at the hip. Speaking of Michelle, though, it¡¯s been ages. How long does it take to follow someone to a secret room? I could have walked around the entire castle twice since she left.¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± Charlotte said. She thought he¡¯d sounded very abrupt.

    ¡°Do you think they might have got themselves hurt?¡± Lucia asked. She frowned. ¡°You know those stories of kids falling down mine shafts? I somehow doubt there are many of those here, but there are probably wells and, I don¡¯t know, oubliettes.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t talk yourself into panicking,¡± Roger said. ¡°Sue and Jason were together, and Michelle and Jill technically are too. I can¡¯t see either pair knocking themselves out without us hearing them from here.¡±

    The other three exchanged uneasy looks.

    ¡°It¡¯s a big castle,¡± Charlotte said unhappily, ¡°and these are thick walls. There are probably rotting floorboards all over the place that could give way under the weight of two people.¡±

    ¡°,¡± said Roger. He was aware that they were bouncing their worst fears off each other, but it was hard to argue that without sounding wilfully optimistic. ¡°Michelle isn¡¯t even with Jill. She¡¯s trying to shadow her. If either fell down a shaft, the other would hear.¡± He paused. ¡°And they¡¯d help.¡± He paused again. ¡°That wasn¡¯t supposed to sound sarcastic.¡±

    Aaron got up off the bench. ¡°I¡¯m going looking for them.¡±

    ¡°We should all go,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Um, but what if they¡¯re fine, and we all fall down a well, and they get back and we¡¯re not here?¡±

    ¡°This is going to turn into one of those tar pits, isn¡¯t it,¡± Roger said presciently, ¡°where everyone goes out looking for everyone who¡¯s looking for everyone. Do we have a copy of the map? Give me that, and a pencil.¡± He drew a long, winding loop through the castle, and copied it onto the second map. ¡°We split up. One group stays here, the other follows this route. If Michelle and the others make it back before the second group does, fine; if not, we regroup and keep looking; and if the second group is gone for too long, then the first group at least knows where they went, and can find them quickly.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Lucia. ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to see why Michelle has a crush on you.¡±

    ¡°She what?¡± Roger said.

    ¡°Gotta go,¡± Lucia said, snatching the map from his hand. Aaron moved to follow her to the exit, clicking his flashlight on.

    ¡°Should I come too?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°Someone has to wait here, for in case Michelle makes it back before we do,¡± Lucia said. ¡°We¡¯ll be back before you know it.¡±

    She took point as she and Aaron walked down the hallway. Their route didn¡¯t go back over the same ground twice, but it did zigzag a lot, so that it passed close to every part of the castle.

    ¡°Michelle? Sue? Jason? Jill? Anyone?¡±

    Aaron gave her a sideways look but said nothing.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Calling out like that gives me the feeling that you¡¯re giving away our position,¡± he said. ¡°I know that that¡¯s literally exactly what we want, but ¡­¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve felt like that for a while, now. But I think it¡¯ll be worse if we give in to it. You know those old cathedrals that seem sacrosanct, and then a gaggle of tourists barge through, and the locals all give them snake eyes? If we all keep hushing everywhere, that just reinforces it.¡±

    He raised a hand. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    They stopped. Somewhere off to their left came a distant tune, sad and lilting.

    ¡°It sounds like an organ,¡± Aaron said.

    ¡°I think Sue plays piano,¡± Lucia said, ¡°and those have the same setup. Hey, Sue! Is that you?¡±

    There was no response, so they followed the music. They turned into a room full of scuffed billiards tables and one large, colourful box with question marks on each face; at one end was a set of mahogany double doors that led out into a ballroom.

    They were at the top of a wide set of polished oak steps leading down into an open space. Around the edges of the room were tables laden with punch bowls and wineglasses, some partly full of dark liquid. At the far end was a pipe organ, from which came the music. A wide, high-backed chair obscured the musician.

    ¡°Hey, Sue?¡± Lucia called out. There was no response.

    She exchanged glances with Aaron, and they both jumped when the doors swung shut behind them. He tried them, and they opened just fine, they were just weighted to shut by themselves. They took a moment to calm down. The silent castle was wearing at their nerves.

    Aaron moved forward, picking his way down the stairs, and she followed a few paces behind. The light from their torches hadn¡¯t caught much of the dance floor, but when he reached it, he could see that it was covered in discarded clothing and broken glass. It smelled strongly of sweat and bad alcohol.

    ¡°Sue?¡± he asked. There was still no response.

    The clothing included everything for a complete wardrobe, male and female: shirts, trousers, dresses, skirts, shoes, even socks and underwear. Most of it was stained purple-red.

    ¡°This was all dropped here,¡± Lucia said, ¡°and it looks like glasses of wine were thrown on top.¡±

    ¡°Like the people wearing them and holding the glasses suddenly vanished,¡± Aaron said.

    ¡°You just had to say it,¡± Lucia said ruefully.

    The two of them gingerly picked their way over the clothing, avoiding the broken glass as best they could, and made it to the organ.

    Aaron was the first to get close enough to peek around the chair: nobody was there. At the same moment, the music cut off mid-note. He jumped back and crashed into Lucia, knocking both of them to the floor and making them drop their lights, which promptly went out, plunging them into pitch darkness.

    Lucia swore. ¡°Ow, jeez. Aaron, can you get off me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry. I just ¨C¡±

    The music began again, this time a fast tune with a beat made by what sounded like a gloved hand tapping the organ keyboard. His heart skipped a beat, then made up for it by doubling its rate.

    ¡°If that¡¯s you, this isn¡¯t funny.¡±

    ¡°If that were me, this would actually be hilarious.¡±

    ¡°Lucy, I¡¯m this close to freaking out. Don¡¯t ¨C¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re physically on top of me, and I¡¯m nowhere near that good on an organ.¡± The music went through a showy part, sweeping up and down. ¡°Erm. Do you know where our lights are?¡±

    ¡°I think it was around ¨C ow, dammit!¡±

    ¡°What happened? Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I got broken glass in my hand.¡±

    ¡°Try not to move it. Some glass might have got into the cut.¡±

    ¡°Right. Give me a minute ¡­ here.¡±

    He found his flashlight and clicked it back on. At the same moment, the music stopped again.

    He tried to speak, but swallowed instead. ¡°That does it,¡± he said on his second try. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Hang on, I still haven¡¯t found my light.¡± He swept his beam across the floor and found it. The battery slot had broken off and the battery had fallen out. Lucia went over and put the battery back in, and it came back on. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Now let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Just a moment,¡± she said, going over to the organ. ¡°I want to check this out.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really believe in ghosts. Don¡¯t you want to try and work out how it was doing that?¡±

    ¡°No; I¡¯d rather leave and never come back. We¡¯re supposed to be finding Michelle!¡±

    ¡°Jeez, it¡¯s not going to bite you. Maybe there¡¯s a light sensor hidden somewhere ¡­¡± She hit a few keys. The notes came out scratchily. She really wasn¡¯t any good at keyboards.

    ¡°It can¡¯t bite me if I¡¯m not here,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m gone. Find me when you¡¯re done.¡± He climbed the stairs and left.

    He switched his torch to his good hand to check how bad the cut was, but it looked like just shallow scratches on two fingers. He sucked on them and swept the light across the room. Flickering shadows played out behind the old billiards tables. In the centre of the room sat the box with the question marks. He started toward it, decided he didn¡¯t really want any more surprises, and stayed where he was.

    There came a few more notes from the organ, not any sort of music, but it slowly became more cohesive. It began as random notes, but these came faster and turned into half scales, full scales, arpeggios, then a real melody, with chords in the bass range, and finally a complete polyphonic piece. With a flourish, the music ended. Aaron waited a minute longer, until there came the sound of Lucia¡¯s approaching footsteps, and the doors creaked open.

    ¡°And you said you weren¡¯t any good with an organ,¡± he said, sweeping his light over her.

    She didn¡¯t walk toward him, instead moving around the side of the room. ¡°I¡¯m good at everything,¡± she purred.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked. ¡°What just happened?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m better than ever, thank you very much,¡± she said. She was looking at the wall; looking for something, he realised. ¡°Has it ever struck you how nice it is to be an adolescent, not a child? So much stronger. I feel like a gazelle. Or a tigress.¡±

    ¡°Lucy?¡±

    ¡°Still, the strength in one¡¯s body isn¡¯t so important, in the grand scheme of things. The grand scheme of things is. Respect, deference. But that¡¯s the work of a hundred lifetimes. To build it from the ground up in a night is inconceivable.¡±

    ¡°Lucy,¡± he said again. His heart fluttered, his stomach dropped.

    ¡°That being said ¡­ there¡¯s a perception among the lower classes, that a Lady should do nothing except bear an heir or three,¡± she went on, ¡°but that¡¯s only what we let them see. Really, the rule is to do whatever it takes.¡±

    She came to the fireplace. Atop it hung a shield and a sheathed sword. She set her torch on the mantelpiece and, in one fluid motion, pulled down the sheath and drew the sword, almost silently.

    ¡°And right now, I¡¯ll have you kneel,¡± she said.

    Aaron backed away and bumped into a billiards table. ¡°Lucy, you¡¯ve been possessed,¡± he said. ¡°You have to snap out of it.¡±

    She stepped forward, moving with perfect grace, like a big cat stalking its prey. ¡°She can¡¯t hear you,¡± she said. ¡°But if she could, and your words could do anything ¡­ that would mean you were trying to get rid of me, and I can¡¯t have that. Isn¡¯t that selfish of you? You¡¯ve been living nonstop for years, and you begrudge me doing it for five minutes? Why do you deserve it?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t,¡± he said, swallowing, ¡°I¡¯m not doing what you want. Get out of her body, now.¡±

    Her face twisted, and she darted forward, swinging the sword. Aaron tumbled backward onto the table and kicked out at the same time; her blade sliced into his calf and thigh, and he yelled in pain. She ducked and brought the blade up and around; he moved his arm to block, and it cut into his forearm. She withdrew, then stabbed him through the breastbone, twisted, and pulled it free. Aaron collapsed.

    She flicked the blade, sending droplets of blood across the floor, stuffed it and the sheath through her waistband, and set out.

    She silently filtered through hallways and regal rooms, searching for someone. The roof had gone in places, revealing a quarter moon and a sky studded with stars, but even where it was intact, she could see in the dark well enough. Lucia had the mindset of a cat, and on some level, it affected her eyesight, making her alert to the slightest outlines or movements. She pressed on, drawn by occult senses to the feeling of life, human heartbeats, fire, and activity.

    ¡°Lucy!¡± someone hissed, and pulled her into an alcove.

    Possibly she only thought her vision was good in the dark. ¡°Who is this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s me, Michelle, but keep your voice down. Jill¡¯s just inside.¡±

    They were in a hallway, hidden near a door made of rusty corrugated iron. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s doing, but it¡¯s nothing to do with treasure,¡± Michelle babbled on. ¡°First, she went to the van with a bucket and rubber hose, and siphoned out our petrol. I could have stopped her, but now I really want to know what she¡¯s up to. She¡¯s doing something, I hear clanks sometimes, but no idea what.¡±

    ¡°What she¡¯s about to do is pay,¡± Lucia said, and made for the door.

    Michelle grabbed at her. ¡°Wait, no, she¡¯s ¨C¡±

    Lucia turned, drew her sword, and ran her through. Michelle gave a strangled yelp and scrabbled at the weapon.

    The door opened, and out came Jill. She¡¯d thrown a set of coveralls on over her nightie, with a belt laden with tools, and a lantern hung from a hook by her shoulder. She looked at the girls with an expression of sheer irritation.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re killing each other over this time,¡± she said, ¡°and I¡¯m too busy to care. I still have to finish up in here and get this stupid thing to the shrine. It weighs more than I do, and I have half an hour, tops, before the end of the world. So if you don¡¯t mind, could you please do whatever it is you¡¯re doing somewhere else?¡±

    Lucia kicked Michelle off her blade and levelled it at Jill. ¡°You,¡± she said, her eyes narrowing to slits, ¡°could have revived me at any time. It should have been you. But you left me to oblivion.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d honestly love to help,¡± said Jill, ¡°with whatever it is that you¡¯re talking about, but I seriously do not have the time. You¡¯re going to have to ¨C¡±

    Lucia lunged.

    Jill stepped into the attack, grabbed her wrist, hip-checked her, and tossed her over her shoulder; this let her twist the sword out of Lucia¡¯s hand and bring it around and through her neck. She pulled it free and kicked Lucia to keep her down, then took the sheath and hung it from her belt. Without a word, she turned around and returned to her work.

 Haunt 7

    A scream echoed through the halls, then there was silence.

    ¡°Oh my gosh,¡± Charlotte said, her hands over her mouth.

    Roger was already on his feet, checking the spaces between himself, his sister, and the exits, ready to move into action.

    ¡°That ¡­ that wasn¡¯t a joke, was it?¡± she asked. ¡°It didn¡¯t sound like one.¡±

    ¡°If it is, then I¡¯ll make whoever it was give a real one,¡± Roger said. ¡°This is not the time to be screwing around.¡± He huffed. ¡°Where is everyone? We only know where two of the five others are, not counting Jill.¡±

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡±

    He breathed deeply, then exhaled. ¡°We¡¯re going to do the responsible thing, and assume that that was serious,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re going to find whoever it was, help them to the van, and get them to the village doctor. And we are not splitting up again, no matter what. Hey, are you okay?¡± he added, seeing her sway on her feet.

    ¡°I ¡­ yeah,¡± she said, rubbing at her temple. ¡°Just a headache.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get you some paracetamol when we¡¯re done here,¡± he promised. ¡°Leave everything you don¡¯t need. We¡¯ll come back in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, and they took flashlights and set off through the castle, in the direction of the scream.

    Roger had the map, and was twisting it around, trying to get his bearings. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s not too far in the direction Aaron and Lucy were going,¡± he said. ¡°Probably it was one of them, and we¡¯ll find them both waiting for help.¡±

    ¡°I wonder what happened?¡± Charlotte said. ¡°That sounded serious.¡±

    ¡°Whatever it is, we can deal with it,¡± he said. ¡°They might not even be hurt. I once read a story about police who burst into someone¡¯s home because they heard a woman screaming and they thought he was hitting his girlfriend, but it was actually the man, because he¡¯d seen a spider.¡±

    They walked in silence for a stretch.

    ¡°I know this sounds horrible,¡± she said, ¡°but I kind of like this. Not that one of our friends might be hurt, but this ¡­ you and me, together. Like when we were little.¡±

    ¡°When you couldn¡¯t get to sleep?¡±

    ¡°When I didn¡¯t want to,¡± she corrected him. ¡°Or when Mum forgot to meet us at school, and you took me home. Or you making me do my reading. Or making dinner together.¡±

    ¡°Cooking was nice tonight, too.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Of course, but there¡¯s something special about adventures with your brother. The two of us, alone against the world. I¡¯ll really miss you when you go off to university.¡±

    ¡°Hey, come on,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can afford to go to one in another city. I¡¯ll still be around. We¡¯ll have plenty of opportunities to hang out together.¡±

    Charlotte smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t think I say it often enough, but thank you for being there for me. Sue and Michelle have told me that they don¡¯t get on with their brothers.¡± She frowned. ¡°At least, I think they have. I can¡¯t place when or where they did.¡±

    ¡°Probably just at school,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah, probably,¡± she said uncertainly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± he said. ¡°I like this too. Did you see how happy Aaron was to be cooking? People like helping each other.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s sweet of you,¡± she said.

    ¡°It came from around here, didn¡¯t it?¡± Roger said abruptly, looking around. ¡°Hello?! Aaron, Lucy? Anyone?¡±

    His voice was absorbed by the thick stone walls and faded to nothing.

    ¡°Could we have been turned around?¡± Charlotte asked, taking the map from him and looking it over.

    ¡°Do you hear something?¡±

    They went perfectly still. After a moment, they could just barely make out distant music.

    ¡°Is that an organ?¡± she asked. ¡°That¡¯s a relief. They can¡¯t be in too much trouble if they¡¯re playing music.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they decided to have a screaming contest,¡± Roger suggested.

    She gave him a look.

    ¡°You¡¯re not very competitive, compared to some people,¡± he explained.

    ¡°That just sounds like a really strange thing to compete over,¡± she said.

    ¡°True,¡± he said. ¡°Either way, let¡¯s go so I can give them a piece of my mind.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m upset too,¡± she said. ¡°We can both give them pieces of our minds.¡±

    Roger chose not to respond to this. She could lay a decent guilt trip, but only if she didn¡¯t realise, because doing so made her feel too guilty herself. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    As they followed the music, it grew louder, enough that they could pick out the tune and harmonics. It was tense and dramatic, full of tremolos around a thunderous Spanish progression. Roger felt his muscles tightening around his upper back.

    He opened a door and shone his torchlight through: it was a room full of old pool tables. In the centre was a box marked with question marks. He moved inside.

    ¡°It¡¯s very classical castle,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°and it¡¯s a strong aesthetic and all, but I wish they had electric lighting. I wouldn¡¯t normally mind it, but there are so many single steps all over the place. I keep tripping.¡±

    ¡°I think it was built on a sinkhole or something,¡± said Roger, ¡°and they kept having to do renovations when parts of the floor collapsed, so now it¡¯s like something MC Escher would have ¨C¡±

    He tripped and sprawled on the carpet.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, ¡°just a bad case of irony.¡± He reached for his light. ¡°Are you ¡­¡±

    He heard her sharp intake of breath, looked up at her, and followed her wide eyes to Aaron¡¯s corpse. He froze, then crawled over to take his wrist.

    ¡°Is he ¨C?¡±

    ¡°No pulse.¡± Roger got to his feet and looked around. He fixed on the fireplace; he went over and took a fire iron, swinging it around to get used to its heft.

    ¡°R-roger? What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Nothing much,¡± he said casually, walking around the room, ¡°just looking around for clues. Whoever did this, maybe they were clumsy, and maybe they¡¯re ¨C¡±

    He kicked open the doors to the next room and shone his light through, revealing a ballroom strewn with abandoned clothing. At one end was a grand pipe organ, whose player¡¯s chair was turned ninety degrees; when his light settled on this, the music cut off mid-note.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°¨C eavesdropping by the door,¡± he said. ¡°Or maybe they¡¯re just really, really fast. This is bad. We¡¯re in way over our heads. We¡¯re getting out of here, now.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Charlotte said, looking down at Aaron, slumped against a table. ¡°What about ¡­ what about the others?¡±

    Roger was panicking inside, but he was very good at putting up a brave face in front of his sister. She needed it, so right now, he had to keep it together. The most important thing was a plan that would get her away from death and danger, but that she would think was not abandoning her friends. ¡°There must be a police station or something in the village. I¡¯ll drive you there. With two people, they¡¯ll have to take us seriously and send officers.¡±

    ¡°Will everyone else be okay?¡± she asked. ¡°They don¡¯t know about ¡­ who could have done this? I can¡¯t think any of them would ever ¡­¡±

    ¡°Maybe Jill?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she would have.¡±

    He frowned. For some reason, neither did he. ¡°It could have been the gatekeeper. Whoever it was, they¡¯ve already got the better of two of us. We need reinforcements before they find us. We¡¯ll get the cops and come back. They can take care of things better than we can.¡±

    Charlotte swallowed and looked back at Aaron. ¡°What about Lucy? She might be around here somewhere and she¡¯s hurt, or maybe she ran off, and whoever did this chased her ¡­¡±

    ¡°Either way, it¡¯ll take us hours to find her,¡± said Roger. ¡°This castle is huge. It¡¯ll be faster to get more people to help look. Don¡¯t forget, we don¡¯t just have to help her, but Sue, Jason, and Michelle too. And Jill.¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah. Right.¡±

    ¡°Come on. We should hurry. Try to keep quiet. We don¡¯t want the killer to find us.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t really sure whether to go in front, where he wouldn¡¯t be able to watch Charlotte, or behind, where he wouldn¡¯t be able to shield her if they ran into someone, but she was holding the map and took the lead, and it wasn¡¯t worth arguing the point. They hurried through the corridors, up and down stairs and around holes in the floorboards, to the deserted banquet room, where a figure was waiting.

    It was small, shrivelled and scrawny, with mottled orange skin and no hair. It wore a loincloth and a cloak-like shroud, with bandages around its chest and limbs, and a blindfold over its eyes. Roger classified it as male, but only because it definitely didn¡¯t have anything that looked female.

    Roger and Charlotte stopped short. The figure was just standing in the middle of the room, not acknowledging them.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Roger called out. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    It languidly rolled its head to face them, then began walking forward. It wasn¡¯t exactly uncoordinated, it didn¡¯t stagger or bump into anything, even with the blindfold, but it still seemed to have some trouble moving. It had oddly deliberate steps, like it was using all its brainpower to stay upright.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he tried again.

    ¡°Is that a mummy?¡± Charlotte asked in a hushed voice.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is,¡± he replied at the same volume, then, louder, ¡°We just found one of our friends dead, and we¡¯re not in a good headspace.¡± He raised his fire poker. ¡°And you look alarming, no offence, so don¡¯t come any closer, or I¡¯m probably going to hurt you.¡±

    The figure didn¡¯t acknowledge him.

    ¡°Last warning.¡±

    The figure kept coming.

    ¡°Roger ¨C¡±

    He brought the poker back, stepped forward, and swung at the figure¡¯s chest. It dented inward like it was made of papier-mach¨¦ with a whoosh and a smell of dead leaves, and the figure fell backward against a bench and was still.

    ¡°Oh my gosh,¡± Charlotte said, looking down at it. ¡°Is it dead?¡± She winced and rubbed her temple.

    ¡°You know what,¡± Roger said, his poker levelled at the figure, ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to find out. Let¡¯s keep moving and bring a ¨C¡±

    Arcs of electricity crackled over the figure¡¯s chest. The cavity filled in, and it caught at the bench, getting back to its feet and snapping the bench in half.

    ¡°Yep, definitely keep moving,¡± Roger said, taking a step back and shoulder-checking Charlotte in the direction of the kitchen. ¡°Go!¡±

    Without a look back, they ran out into the kitchen, the first hall, and out the front door and into the courtyard.

    It was very cold by now, made worse by the wind. The stars glittered overhead. Neither spared the time to admire them. Roger looked at the drawbridge, which was up.

    He pulled out his car keys and handed them to Charlotte, who fumbled in the darkness. ¡°Get the van warmed up,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m going to lower the bridge.¡±

    She awkwardly stuffed the map away and got the keys, then swayed on her feet.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, just the headache again,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    He nodded and went to the bridge. In the wall beside it was a metal gate that led to a control room. Inside was a vending machine full of soft drinks, a calendar with a pin-up girl, and a panel that had been slashed to pieces. There were pieces of levers and machinery scattered on the ground around it.

    Oh, you have to be joking. He fiddled with it, tried to get any of the mechanisms to catch, but it was too damaged. He stuffed his fire poker into a slit and tried to prise it wide, hoping to pull a chain or something directly.

    ¡°Hey, Roger?¡± Charlotte was just outside. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡±

    He freed the poker and walked back outside. ¡°Me too. You go first?¡±

    ¡°The van¡¯s out of fuel. The engine won¡¯t turn over.¡±

    ¡°It had plenty when we got here,¡± he said.

    ¡°I thought so too,¡± she said, nodding. In the starlight, she looked very pale. ¡°Someone¡¯s emptied it. I could smell spilled petrol on the ground.¡±

    He let out a lungful of air that condensed in front of him. ¡°And someone¡¯s sabotaged the gateway. I can¡¯t get it open.¡±

    ¡°What do we do?¡±

    Roger thought. He probably couldn¡¯t bash through the drawbridge. They could maybe find a way onto the walls, dive off into the moat, and swim out, but people who jump long distances into stagnant freezing water at night tend to drown. Charlotte probably wouldn¡¯t agree to do it, because even if they did make it out, there¡¯d be no way to get police or anyone else in to help all the others.

    There came a clatter, and the castle door swung open again. They spun, but it was only Sue, doubled over, out of breath.

    Charlotte took a few steps toward her. ¡°Sue, thank goodness you¡¯re okay! Is Jason with you?¡±

    Sue raised a finger, asking for a minute to get her breath. ¡°He¡¯s ¡­ no. He¡¯s gone.¡±

    Closer to, they could see that her blue jumper had a long scratch down one side, and was stained dark. Charlotte¡¯s hands went to her mouth.

    ¡°This place is haunted,¡± Sue went on, ¡°a nexus of undead energy. We¡¯ve got to get out.¡±

    ¡°I think we saw the same thing,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°There was ¡­ it looked like a mummy, sort of, except it wasn¡¯t mummified. Why is it here? What is it?¡±

    ¡°A necromantic cascade was triggered earlier,¡± Sue panted. ¡°There was one spirit, but it had friends, sort of, and they¡¯re waking up everywhere. There¡¯s a catacombs under the castle; they¡¯re probably reanimating all the bodies down there.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Charlotte repeated. ¡°How do you know all this?¡±

    Sue waved this aside. ¡°Long story, it¡¯s technical. But that¡¯s not all. Jill¡¯s dangerous, too. Michelle and Lucy are gone, too, I saw them both outside a workshop that I¡¯m sure she had been using. I don¡¯t know what she was making, but it¡¯s bad. She¡¯s got at least one bolthole with machine guns ¡­¡±

    ¡°Calm down,¡± Roger said, loudly and clearly. ¡°You¡¯re babbling. What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Sue took a deep breath. ¡°We, Jason and I, found a storage room,¡± she said. ¡°Jill¡¯s. It was full of supplies and weapons. Assault rifles, looked like. While we were there, we had a, a run-in with a possessor spirit, that got Jason. I got out, but I had to run from more of them, and I lost my bearings. Eventually I wandered down a hall. Michelle and Lucy were there, it looked like they had been stabbed.¡±

    Roger and Charlotte exchanged glances. That was the same as what had happened to Aaron, and not something that the orange figure would have done, but Roger couldn¡¯t help but feel like Sue was hiding something.

    ¡°One door was open. I looked inside. It was a sort of hybrid workshop and gardening shed, there were tables and a bunch of tools, but also seed mix and fertiliser and stuff, it was weird. Anyway, on the worktable were scissors, a trowel, a soldering iron, stuff like that, and I could see bits of oil and something crumbly on them, it looked fresh. Anyway, another zombie came and so I kept running, and got here. We¡¯ve got to get out before more of them come, or Jill with a gun.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± said Roger. ¡°The fuel¡¯s gone, and the drawbridge lock is smashed. We¡¯re stuck in here. Are you sure she¡¯s the killer? There might be another one of those things that figured out how to use a weapon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s crazy. Jason and I ran into her earlier, she was babbling something about a catastrophe, and she knew about Lottie, even though she¡¯s never seen her before. She had this ¨C it didn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°She knew about me?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°Not in a good way.¡±

    Roger winced. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s the killer, maybe not. Either way, we need a plan. Do you remember where this armoury of hers is? If we can get weapons, or barricade ourselves inside, we¡¯ll have a chance.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve never used a gun, have you?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s a last resort. I¡¯m putting more faith in the barricade, or hoping we can think of something better when we get there.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Sue said. ¡°With Jason, we found two rooms, warded against the undead. One¡¯s the armoury. It¡¯s in the catacombs, but I think there might be a secret passage out of the castle.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s in the catacombs, it¡¯ll be hard getting to it,¡± Roger said. ¡°Where¡¯s the other?¡±

    ¡°In the central courtyard. The way there is probably still pretty clear.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯ll work? How much do you know about how the undead work, anyway?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just a hobbyist,¡± she said, ¡°but it was marked with, with the gold standard for abjuration. If anything will work, that will. And even if not, I think the door had a bar, so we can barricade ourselves in.¡±

    They all exchanged looks.

    ¡°It¡¯s our best chance,¡± Roger said. ¡°Keep quiet and be ready to run if any of them try to corner us. Let¡¯s roll.¡±

 Haunt final

    They did their best to make as little noise as possible, but it was hard in a pitch-black castle with creaky floorboards everywhere. Charlotte was getting dizzy, and kept swaying on her feet and almost crashing into walls; Roger quickly had to move up to help support her. They took the hall into the kitchen and went into the banquet room, where the orange zombie was still lurching around. It didn¡¯t seem to notice them, and they ducked behind a table.

    ¡°Is this the same thing you ran into?¡± Roger asked quietly.

    ¡°Uh, sort of?¡± Sue said. ¡°They weren¡¯t orange, and this one is moving differently. I think it¡¯s a different kind of undead, or maybe the body is more decayed. Rigor mortis is actually a major problem for necromancers.¡±

    He opened his mouth to ask why she knew this, but decided he didn¡¯t really want to know. ¡°I¡¯ll distract it. You two run past and get to the courtyard. I¡¯ll catch you up.¡±

    ¡°You just said we wouldn¡¯t split up,¡± Charlotte said, then winced, rubbing her temple.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be right behind us,¡± Sue said, ¡°won¡¯t you?¡±

    Roger chewed his knuckle. Now that she mentioned it, if anything went wrong, they¡¯d all be dead. ¡°No, she¡¯s right. We¡¯ll stick together and find a way around.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re close to the courtyard,¡± Sue said, ¡°and it¡¯s not very switched on. We could just run for it.¡±

    Roger was very conscious of the horror movie trope where a female character twists her ankle and is promptly caught by the monster. Neither girl was wearing heels, but Charlotte was only half-conscious: he could easily picture her fainting, and he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be able to dodge the monsters while carrying her. ¡°No need to risk it. Let¡¯s go back.¡±

    He helped Charlotte to her feet, and the three of them backtracked to the kitchen and into the first hallway.

    ¡°Do we have any friends we can call on, or any other aces up our sleeve?¡± he asked Sue. ¡°Any tricks with the undead? Holy water, blood of a virgin?¡±

    ¡°Rub it in, why don¡¯t you,¡± Sue muttered, then, ¡°Nothing doing. Most necromancers add weaknesses or prohibitions on purpose as a sort of failsafe, so that their creations won¡¯t do too much damage if they go rogue, but these weren¡¯t deliberately reanimated, so there¡¯s nothing like that in place. You¡¯d have to tear them apart the old-fashioned way.¡±

    Roger checked the map. ¡°I whacked that one pretty hard earlier. Something happened, and it regenerated. I don¡¯t think fighting them is really an option.¡±

    ¡°Well, that sucks.¡±

    ¡°It does indeed. You know, it looks like there¡¯s a fairly short route to the catacombs. Why don¡¯t we at least check it out? If there are more of them in there, we can double back again, but it could be safer than going through the middle of the grounds.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re in charge,¡± Sue said. ¡°If you want to try that way, I¡¯ll go with you.¡±

    Roger didn¡¯t feel particularly in charge, but neither girl offered anything, so he took a side passage that led up a flight of narrow stairs to a trapdoor and a sort of attic, although it was physically much lower than the top of the building. The ceiling sloped inward at the sides, as though there were a triangular roof, and beams crisscrossed the room. The floor was covered in playing cards. They didn¡¯t stop to look around.

    ¡°Not the fun night out I¡¯d been hoping for when I came,¡± he said.

    ¡°Tomorrow night, I¡¯m staying home watching anime,¡± Sue said, nodding.

    The pseudo-attic was shaped like an L, turning ninety degrees halfway along. They followed it and climbed down a trapdoor at the far end, into a room full of shattered ceramics.

    ¡°I remember this place,¡± Sue said, striding forward confidently. ¡°I was here, with Jason, half an hour ago. The plum wine cellar is just through ¡­¡±

    She stopped short. In front of her was a door frame around a brick wall.

    ¡°¡­ this was a staircase down to the catacombs when I was here. Someone¡¯s bricked it up.¡±

    Roger rapped on the wall, then spun and mule-kicked it. He bounced off and rolled his foot, swearing. ¡°It¡¯s not hollow and there¡¯s no give. Whoever put that there, they did it properly.¡±

    There was a shuffling sound from another doorway: a grey-skinned figure in a torn black shroud lurching toward them. It banged into either wall, its balance completely shot, but the crashes didn¡¯t seem to bother it.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Roger said.

    He and Sue each took one of Charlotte¡¯s hands, and they ran for the only other doorway. It led to a room with a giant chessboard, then a pool room, then a pantry full of moths, and finally out to the inner courtyard. He looked around, thankful for the lanterns everywhere. Their flashlights couldn¡¯t light up such a large area at once, and the stars weren¡¯t bright enough. Statues, fountains, and terraces dotted the gardens, shadows playing around them as they and their flashlights moved.

    ¡°There it is,¡± Sue said, looking at the keep. ¡°The warded chamber. We¡¯ll be safe for now.¡±

    ¡°Is there any magic that might affect Jill?¡± Roger said, leaving Charlotte and walking up to her. ¡°I assume that anti-undead magic won¡¯t do anything about a flesh-and-blood girl with a sword and maybe an assault rifle.¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re in the clear,¡± Sue said. ¡°Remember what I said about the possessor spirit? I think it got her, and she killed the other three. Er, four. But if it did, then it wouldn¡¯t be able to bring her through those wards; or if it leaves her, it won¡¯t matter if she comes through.¡±

    ¡°Argh!¡± Charlotte cried out, clutching at her head and sinking to her knees. Roger and Sue rushed to her side.

    ¡°Do you know any first aid?¡± he asked her.

    ¡°I know that headaches shouldn¡¯t be this bad,¡± she said. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Lottie?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Hurts ¡­¡±

    ¡°Could she have a concussion or something? Any pre-existing conditions? Did she get bitten? I don¡¯t think these are plague zombies, but ¡­¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°No concussions or bites, I¡¯ve been watching her, and no medical history.¡± He looked at the keep. ¡°Could there be a way out through there? She needs a doctor.¡±

    There came a clacking from behind them. They whirled. It was Jill, pulling a heavily laden hand truck; the wheels bounced whenever they hit the edge of a paving stone. She was still wearing coveralls over her nightie, the coveralls and her face spattered in blood, although she¡¯d cleaned her glasses. She wore a contented smile.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± she said. ¡°Are you thinking of going in there? I said it before, you don¡¯t want to do that. It¡¯s not safe in there.¡±

    Sue took several steps back, but Roger took one forward, putting himself between Charlotte and Jill. He raised his fire poker defensively. ¡°You,¡± he said. ¡°Who are you really? Why are you doing this? Why did you kill everyone?¡±

    ¡°Everyone?¡± she repeated, nonplussed. ¡°I¡¯ve only killed one person so far tonight, not counting a couple of the monsters, and they don¡¯t really die per se. The girl in black, I think her name¡¯s something Blank or Blanks?¡±

    ¡°Her name¡¯s Lucy,¡± he said, ¡°and she was my friend. What about Aaron? Michelle? Jason?¡±

    Jill shrugged, uninterested. ¡°I assume that either it was one of the monsters, or whoever the villain is. Lucy Blank came at me with a sword, so maybe she was the villain this time, and she killed them?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± Roger said. ¡°She¡¯d never do that. And what are you talking about, ¡®the villain¡¯ and ¡®this time¡¯?¡±

    Jill shrugged again. ¡°Oh well. In a minute, it won¡¯t matter any more anyway.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? What are you doing here?¡±

    Jill patted the hand truck. ¡°Just wrapping up a problem that¡¯s been bugging me ¨C pun not intended ¨C for a little while. It doesn¡¯t concern you. So stand aside and let me pass.¡±

    Sue sniffed. ¡°You smell like fertiliser,¡± she said. ¡°And the van¡¯s fuel is gone. You weren¡¯t just trapping us here, were you?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t trap you anywhere,¡± said Jill. ¡°You could have run on foot. Although I don¡¯t recommend it: I¡¯m sure something will kill you if you try.¡±

    ¡°Then who cut up the drawbridge controls?¡± Roger asked. ¡°Who bricked up the catacombs?¡±

    ¡°Oh? Go figure. It was probably the same person who outfitted the shrine, although I suppose it could have been your Lucy, or even the man in green.¡±

    ¡°Er, not the most pressing problem right now,¡± said Sue. ¡°Fertiliser and fuel oil. That isn¡¯t what I think it is, is it?¡±

    Jill smiled wider. ¡°Nice deduction. Yes. This is a bomb.¡±

    Roger could finally make out what was on the hand truck: a huge plastic bag that was labelled fertiliser, but whose contents looked like styrofoam.

    ¡°What the heck are you doing with a bomb?!¡±

    ¡°I already told you,¡± said Jill, ¡°dealing with something that doesn¡¯t concern you. So stand aside.¡±

    They stared.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost out of time. Those zombies and the other things aren¡¯t far away. It¡¯d be best if I detonate this before then.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± Sue asked. ¡°No, wrong question. You¡¯re going to blow up the keep, aren¡¯t you? Why would you do that, when it¡¯s a safe place the undead can¡¯t enter?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t matter,¡± said Jill. ¡°The only one who does ¡­ This is a waste of time. Let me past.¡±

    ¡°We have nowhere else to run or hide,¡± Roger said. ¡°Besides, this place is already falling apart. You¡¯ll probably collapse the entire castle with a bomb that size.¡±

    Jill made a face. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to try to stop me? Ugh. I¡¯m not going to enjoy this.¡±

    She let go of the hand truck and began walking toward him.

    ¡°Stay back,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m warning you ¡­¡±

    She didn¡¯t break stride, so he brought the poker back like a baseball bat and swung. She moved like lightning: one moment she was directly in front of him, the next directly behind, with a knife in hand, its blade neatly wedged into the back of his neck between two vertebrae. He fell.

    ¡°Roger!¡± Sue cried out, frozen in place.

    Jill looked down at Charlotte, who was on her knees, holding her head. ¡°You know,¡± she said, ¡°my idea was to break the pattern. It always happens inside the altar room, so won¡¯t it be stopped if I blow it up? But now that I think about it, I¡¯ve been overcomplicating things. If she wants to sacrifice you on the altar, I could take the altar out of the equation, but I could also ¡­¡± She drew her sword, still covered in Lucy¡¯s and the others¡¯ blood, and brought it overhead.

    ¡°No!¡± Sue shouted. Jill ignored her and brought the sword down.

    There was a flicker of silver-white light and a sound like a match being struck. Jill skidded backward along the ground, crashed into a statue of a nude satyr, and went still; her forearm fell to the ground a few metres away, still holding the sword.

    This was finally enough to snap Sue out of it. She rushed forward, grabbed Charlotte by the arm, hauled her to her feet, and dragged her to the keep. She pushed through the oak door, then slammed it shut and barred it. She slumped to the ground.

    ¡°S-sue?¡± Charlotte whimpered. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Where¡¯s Roger?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s ¡­ He wanted to protect you,¡± Sue said. ¡°There¡¯s, I don¡¯t even know what that was. Some sort of poltergeist? I don¡¯t know. Just, let¡¯s rest here for a moment.¡±

    Charlotte moaned and slumped. Sue sat back for a minute and caught her breath, then crawled over.

    ¡°Lottie. Lottie, can you hear me?¡±

    There came a rap at the door. Sue looked up at it. She got up, removed the bar, and opened it.

    In walked the honey-eyed girl from the coffin. She gave a massive yawn and pushed the door shut behind her.

    ¡°It¡¯s about time,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hey, do you know what¡¯s wrong with Lottie?¡± Sue asked.

    The girl gave a slow blink. ¡°We should put her on the altar,¡± she said.

    ¡°Right, good idea,¡± Sue agreed. ¡°Are you strong enough to carry her legs?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± said the girl.

    Sue took Charlotte¡¯s arms and the girl her legs, and they lifted her and moved toward the altar.

    The door crashed open. Sue started and dropped Charlotte; the girl caught her before her head hit the ground. In the doorway was Jill, one arm tied up with Roger¡¯s shirt, which was already soaked with red. She had the hand truck in front of her, still laden with the fertiliser bomb. Her sword was back in its sheath.

    ¡°And then there¡¯s this guy,¡± the winged girl said, annoyed.

    ¡°Think fast,¡± said Jill. She kicked the truck forward and pulled a remote from her coveralls, one with a single big red button.

    A thick steel half-sphere shell appeared around the truck, so that it protected the winged girl but not Jill from the bomb. Jill¡¯s thumb flinched away from the button, and she threw the remote away and went for her sword.

    The winged girl made a swiping motion, plucked a duplicate remote from thin air, and pressed the button.

    Jill sprinted forward and dived, angling herself to get behind the altar. She wasn¡¯t fast enough. The bomb exploded while she was still in the air, sending a shockwave and a hail of ball bearings through the room, Sue, and Jill¡¯s legs and hips. Sue was gone instantly. Jill crashed into the ground, stunned, unable to do more than lay there, panting with pain, trying to catch her breath.

    The winged girl set Charlotte down on the ground, unharmed, then jumped up and sat on the altar, looking down at Jill.

    ¡°I have a question for you,¡± she said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just give up? You¡¯re never going to beat me.¡±

    Jill took several ragged breaths. ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate me,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve won this round, but sooner or later, I will finish you.¡±

    ¡°No, you won¡¯t,¡± the girl said matter-of-factly. She yawned again. ¡°It¡¯ll take a lot more than mere persistence to beat me. And sooner or later, you¡¯ll die before you make it here. Why not just skip to the end? Are you a masochist?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving up.¡± Jill swallowed, and coughed blood. ¡°What are you, beyond just a walking nightmare? I¡¯ve never seen anything like you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a nightmare,¡± the girl said quietly.

    ¡°Then what should I call you? What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have one. Call me whatever you want. I am who I am.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not megalomaniacal at all,¡± Jill said.

    The girl gave her an impassive look. ¡°Whatever. If you¡¯re not going to surrender, we might as well finish up here.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Before you kill me. Can¡¯t you at least give me a hint about what you¡¯re really planning?¡±

    The girl blinked dully. A guillotine blade appeared over Jill¡¯s head, hung in space for a moment, and flashed down.

    ¡°No,¡± said the girl.

 Reality A

    Roger sat listlessly, tryig to focus on his calculus assignment, but without much success. He understood the general concept, but he was too tired to concentrate on anything properly, and it didn¡¯t help that the questions were so abstract. For a supposedly world-class school, one would think they could think of more inspiring problems than something probably output by a random number generator.

    At last, the final bell rang. His teacher looked up from a stack of paperwork. ¡°Okay, see you all Monday. Make sure to look at the entire assignment before then so you can ask me questions if there¡¯s anything you¡¯re unclear on. Have a good weekend.¡±

    Roger packed his pens and books away, stood up, stretched, and joined the general flow of students out of the classroom and into the corridor with his locker.

    ¡°Hey, Abercrombie,¡± said a girl with a long French braid. Celia Wheatcroft, one of three girls from his year jockeying for the position of The Most Popular. ¡°Me and some friends are going into the city, we¡¯re thinking a movie and maybe laser tag. You want in?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t,¡± Roger said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a shift tonight. Thanks for offering, though.¡±

    She clicked her tongue. ¡°You can¡¯t cancel?¡±

    ¡°Not a chance,¡± he said, which was true: he needed the money. ¡°My boss hates it when I ask coworkers to take my shifts,¡± he added, which was not true.

    ¡°Jeez. You should find a better job.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking. The last two places offered half minimum wage under the table, and no OH&S.¡±

    ¡°That sucks. Well, see you round sometime, then,¡± she said, and walked off.

    Roger heaved a sigh, got everything he needed, and set out to the sports oval.

    The sun was shining, high in the clear blue sky, only a few errant clouds scattered on the horizon. All around him were red brick facades and well-tended gardens. Saint Aquinas¡¯ Academy was one of the most prestigious schools in the city, regularly winning state and national contests in every field. It also had some of the most extensive grounds.

    It had associations with a number of sporting clubs throughout the city. Enrolment came with free membership at all of them, so students often spent their time at pools or ice rinks, but some students preferred the attached grass oval, especially the younger years. On Thursdays and Fridays, it was booked by the junior girl¡¯s soccer club.

    Roger was there early, with enough time to find a bench and set out his homework before the team had changed into their sports uniforms and assembled. He smiled and winked at his little sister; she waved back, oblivious to the blonde-brunette beside her who followed her gaze.

    ¡°Alright, maggots, listen up,¡± the captain said in a deadpan voice, a girl with very long legs and an impressive volume of curly black hair. Lucia Blanks, known to her friends as Lucy, who seemed to be in every club at once.

    Roger tuned them out to focus on his homework, only occasionally looking up to check on Charlotte. He¡¯d knocked over half of the assignment when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up. Julia Martin, class wallflower, outsider to every social circle and probable serious bullying victim who someone should really be looking out for.

    ¡°,¡± she said.

    ¡°Martin,¡± Roger greeted with a nod. They weren¡¯t exactly friends, but they knew each other by name and face and he¡¯d never picked on her. ¡°Did you want something?¡±

    ¡°I, uh,¡± she said, not making eye contact for more than a moment. ¡°Um. Can I, talk to you?¡±

    He made an effort not to wince. She¡¯d always seemed nice enough, but it was difficult talking with someone who stuttered so badly and verbalised commas in such wrong places. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    She looked around. The soccer team was running drills, and a few scattered students were walking or sitting around the edges of the field. ¡°Um. Could, could we. Not. It¡¯s sort of, private? Could we, go somewhere else?¡±

    He looked from her to the soccer field. He knew Charlotte didn¡¯t actually need him there at all times, but he also knew that she liked it. Family can be annoying, but it¡¯s nice to know that they care. ¡°What¡¯s it about?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ¡­ weird. I don¡¯t ¡­ it¡¯s maybe nothing but, maybe important? I think?¡± She wringed her hands.

    He exhaled and stood up, making a point to leave his bag on the table, so it was clear that he¡¯d be right back. ¡°In one of the group study rooms?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah.¡±

    She fell into step half a pace behind him, scurrying to keep up with his long stride. She didn¡¯t say anything as he led the way to one of the school buildings, found a staff member, and borrowed the key for a private room.

    It was smaller than a classroom, just large enough for a round table with eight chairs, with wide glass windows looking out onto the grounds and into the library. Martin hesitated awkwardly and took a seat, straightening her skirt to avoid looking at him as he sat opposite her.

    ¡°So?¡± he prompted. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Um.¡± She fidgeted. She sat with her head tilted forward, so that strands of her long hair fell in front of her face. It made it hard to read her expression. ¡°I kind of, don¡¯t know how to say it.¡±

    There was a long pause.

    ¡°Can you just say something?¡± Roger asked. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be impatient, but ¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh ¨C sorry. Uh. Th-that was your, sister, wasn¡¯t it? Outside?¡±

    ¡°Is this about her?¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Well ¨C sort of. Maybe. I don¡¯t ¡­ uh ¡­¡±

    ¡°Start with any part,¡± he said. ¡°Seriously, anything. What do you have to do with her? She¡¯s never mentioned anything about you to me.¡±

    Martin took a deep breath, shut her eyes, exhaled. She opened her eyes again, but still didn¡¯t meet his. ¡°When she was little, did she ever, get night terrors? Not just nightmares, real ¡­ night, terrors,¡± she finished lamely.

    He blinked. He hadn¡¯t expected that. ¡°I thought nobody except me remembered that,¡± he said, ¡°and I¡¯ve never told anyone. She did, when she was four. Who told you that?¡±

    ¡°Well ¡­ you did,¡± she said. ¡°In a, dream.¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°I see. I¡¯m not superstitious, but sure, that¡¯s an interesting coincidence.¡±

    ¡°I. I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m not ¡­ I think it, wasn¡¯t really a dream.¡±

    Roger sat back. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Can I, tell you something? I¡¯m a lucid dreamer,¡± she said, and she finally looked up and met his eyes, her hair falling away from her face. ¡°I¡¯ve always loved my dreams, because they¡¯re this sort of magical personal adventure. I can make myself be faster and stronger and not have this stupid stutter. I can be, whoever I want. And I remember my dreams. I keep a dream journal that I fill in every morning. I type them up onto my computer every so often.

    ¡°But, lately, they¡¯ve changed. It¡¯s, weird. They¡¯re more real. Um, usually dreams aren¡¯t very persistent, you know? If you go out of a room, it often won¡¯t be there if you go back. But lately, they have been. And the people in them are, more ¡­ fleshed-out. But ¡­ do you remember anything of your, dreams?¡±

    ¡°Nothing specific,¡± he said.

    ¡°Uh, well, most of the people from, these dreams are ¡­ you¡¯re always there, and so is your sister, and a few others. I think ¡­ I know it¡¯s crazy, but ¡­ I think we¡¯re having a shared dream.¡±

    ¡°Human souls don¡¯t get transported to the dream realm when we sleep,¡± he said, trying to be kind but firm. ¡°They¡¯re just neural noise, inside our own heads.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Martin. She tilted her head, breaking eye contact, and her hair fell forward again. ¡°But, it just ¡­ how did I know, about your sister¡¯s, night terrors?¡±

    He thought. ¡°She might have mentioned it to someone. It could be sheer coincidence and you just dreamt it. They¡¯re not all that uncommon. What are they, five percent of the population?¡±

    She wringed her hands again. ¡°I know. But there¡¯s, something else. About the dreams. There¡¯ve been other changes. As a lucid dreamer, I used to be able to will myself to not be hurt, or to succeed at anything I really wanted. I can¡¯t any more. And I ¡­ my dreams were always different to each other. They¡¯d have their own little story arcs, you know? And they still are, but now there¡¯s a pattern. Two or three of the people, there are always real-life people in the dreams now when there weren¡¯t before, two or three go bad. They mess something up, and they cause a catastrophe. We have to run for it, and we always wind up in this sort of shrine room. There¡¯s a girl in there, with insect wings. I call her Wasp Girl. We talk for a bit, then we fight, and she kills us.¡±

    ¡°People change as they get older,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ve started getting nightmares, is all.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve had nightmares, before. Or, my mind tried to. There¡¯ve been monsters. But I could choose what happened in my dreams, so I could just make myself be fast enough to get away and find a weapon. And they all ¡­ felt, a certain way. I could tell that they weren¡¯t real, so they had no power. But, Wasp Girl ¡­¡±

    She reached into her bag, pulled out a sketchbook, and opened it to a photorealistic sketch of a young girl in a white gown with diaphanous wings growing from her back. She had lidded eyes, like she was either bone tired or bored out of her mind.

    ¡°Nice artwork.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not mine,¡± Martin said, blushing. ¡°I described it to my sister, she likes, she likes drawing. Um. And, last night ¡­ normally, I don¡¯t talk about dreams, or it breaks suspension of disbelief and I wake up. But when I saw her, and we talked, she said she wasn¡¯t a nightmare, and ¡­ I think she was telling the truth.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s sum up. There¡¯s some sort of nightmare-like girl haunting your dreams, and you think I¡¯m sharing them with you.¡±

    ¡°Well ¡­ I don¡¯t think you, have, exactly. I think it isn¡¯t my dream. I think it¡¯s, your sister¡¯s.¡± He gave her a sharp look; she ducked her head but pressed on. ¡°Except for me, everyone is, connected to her. You¡¯re always there. Most of the others are, kids from her year level. I think they¡¯re her friends. I see her ¨C your ¨C mother, sometimes. Um, her name¡¯s April, isn¡¯t it? And ¡­ there¡¯s one last thing. At the end of each dream, in the shrine, your sister¡¯s always there. She gets a bad headache, and faints. Wasp Girl kills everyone except her.¡±

    Roger opened his mouth to object, but shut it again without saying anything. Like most people, he had seen plenty of movies in which someone claimed to have seen a monster or some other threat, their parents or the townsfolk assumed they were just telling stories, and so then they were completely unprepared when the monster struck. While still in primary school, he¡¯d resolved that if ever it happened to him, he wouldn¡¯t be that stupid; he would at least take basic precautions, just in case.

    ¡°She has been sleeping badly lately,¡± he admitted. ¡°So have I, for that matter. Well ¡­ let¡¯s test this theory. Right now, I¡¯ll tell you half of a secret that I¡¯ve never told anyone. Tonight, in the dream, come and find me, and get me to tell you the other half. Repeat it to me tomorrow, and that¡¯ll be proof that you¡¯re not just imagining things.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± she said, looking up and meeting his gaze for a moment. ¡°W-what sort of secret?¡±

    ¡°When I was a kid, I came up with an action hero character,¡± he said. ¡°He was about as good as any character written by a nine-year-old, and I knew that even at the time, so I never told anyone anything about him. His first name was Antonio. With that, you should be able to convince me to tell you his surname. Tell me it tomorrow, and I¡¯ll believe that something¡¯s up.¡±

    ¡°I,¡± she said, blushing. ¡°Um. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. But, if it does turn out that you¡¯re right, what could we actually do about it? Get Charlotte a prescription for sleeping tablets?¡±

    Martin fidgeted. ¡°I don¡¯t, think that would be a good idea. Not everyone is in every dream, and I think it¡¯s because our sleep patterns don¡¯t quite line up. Most of us are in school together, so we sleep at about the same times, and most of us are in most dreams. But if she takes pills, then her patterns will change, and we won¡¯t get into her dream any more.

    ¡°If it really is a shared dream, then that means Wasp Girl can affect, the real world. I don¡¯t know for sure, but I think she wants to affect it, in a bigger way, and I think, she has to use the shrine, to do it. Um, I said I couldn¡¯t do whatever I, wanted, as a lucid dreamer any more, but I can do a bit, and one thing is that I think I don¡¯t just wake up; I can force the dream to end, for everyone. So far, I¡¯ve interrupted Wasp Girl every time, by ending the dream at the last moment. So if I can¡¯t get into the dream, then she¡¯ll be able to finish her plan. I don¡¯t know what it might be, but ¡­ she¡¯s evil.¡±

    ¡°Then what should we do about it?¡±

    ¡°Um. I think we have to kill her, in the dream, to stop her for good, but she¡¯s stronger than me, even with me being a lucid dreamer. She¡¯s like a reality warper. I can¡¯t win, no matter how much I try, even if I bring weapons. Still, she has to have a weakness. Do you ¡­¡±

    She reached into the sketchbook and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

    ¡°This is a print-out of a few of the dreams, that I typed up. Would you mind, reading them? Maybe you¡¯ll be able to think of something I haven¡¯t tried yet. I-if you don¡¯t want, that¡¯s fine, I just ¡­¡± She trailed off.

    He took the papers, skimmed a few lines and flipped through to see how many there were. ¡°I¡¯ve got homework to do, but this doesn¡¯t look like too much to read. Give me your phone number, and I¡¯ll read this on the bus home and give you a call if anything jumps out at me?¡±

    ¡°Uh ¨C¡± She stuttered, reached for her bag, and banged her funny bone against the edge of the table. ¡°Ow. Um. Uh. Yeah. That¡¯s sensible.¡± They exchanged phones and entered their details. ¡°T-thank you.¡±

    ¡°No worries.¡± He looked back down at the dream diary. ¡°If nothing else, at least you¡¯re lucky you have interesting dreams.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said unconvincingly. ¡°Lucky.¡±

 School 1

    School Arc

    The morning sun beat down on the city. Hot wind blew through the streets, dragging rubbish through the gutters: scraps of plastic, cardboard, broken glass, and even chunks of loose bitumen. The facades of buildings were burnt or smashed and graffitied, and soot and ashes swirled around the pavement, some embers still hot.

    Two people walked along the street. One was a tall, broad-shouldered young man in a neat second-hand suit, clean-shaven, with dark brown hair and eyes. He carried a battered briefcase, and had draped his suit jacket over the same arm; he¡¯d also opened two buttons, and left his tie in a pocket, but there were already the hints of sweat stains at his armpits. He had a phone out with a map loaded, which he glanced at periodically.

    The other person was a younger girl with russet hair, wearing a school uniform: black shoes and skirt, white socks, pink shirt with a cloth badge over her heart. She also had a pink backpack and a pink ribbon tying her hair into two short pigtails.

    ¡°Are you sure this is the right area?¡± asked the girl, Charlotte. ¡°You said it would be nice, and, well ¡­¡±

    ¡°And this looks like a warzone that the soldiers decided wasn¡¯t worth sticking around for,¡± finished the young man, Roger. ¡°This is definitely the right place. Remember, it¡¯s the destination, not the journey.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure,¡± she said. ¡°Is Mum working there today?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. She said she¡¯d meet us at the gates.¡±

    They turned past a newsagent that looked like it had been hit by an airstrike: the roof was gone, windows were blown out, and walls were buckled and charred. Past it was a short metal bench with broken glass backing and an opaque plastic roof.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± Roger said, taking the bench. Charlotte sat on the far side, because there was something sticky spilled across the middle.

    ¡°Are we on time?¡± she asked.

    He checked his phone. ¡°ETA, a few minutes.¡± He let out a breath and wiped sweat from his forehead.

    ¡°Does the Lord Aquinas Academy have air-conditioning?¡± she asked hopefully.

    ¡°It had better.¡± He put the phone away and stretched. ¡°Are you looking forward to your first day?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°I think it¡¯ll be good. It¡¯s a second chance, and I think you really worked things out this time. The odds are in our favour. What about you? It¡¯s your first day too.¡±

    ¡°A bit nervous,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s something I¡¯ve wanted for a while, so it¡¯ll be disappointing if I screw it up.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t,¡± she said simply.

    He smiled back at her. Someone else might have wanted her to elaborate on that, but knowing her, the fact that she didn¡¯t was more reassuring. It showed faith, that the idea was so obviously true that it stood without justification.

    They heard the purr of an engine, and a minute later, a bright red-and-yellow bus pulled up to the bench. They climbed on board.

    It was an autobus, with no driver and a vandalised ticket scanning machine and turnstile. Roger shrugged, hopped the turnstile, and helped Charlotte over. The bus smoothly accelerated from the curb and drove along the street, bouncing nauseously over rubbish and potholes.

    Halfway along the rows of seats was an Asian-looking girl in a black-and-blue sailor fuku that wasn¡¯t quite long enough to meet her thigh socks. A chainsaw with a lanyard dangled from a sash. She was hastily bringing her feet off the seat in front and stuffing a hand game console into a bulging blue backpack; she looked up, transferred glasses from her neckerchief to her nose, and offered a greeting smile.

    ¡°Er, hey,¡± she said, with a finger wave. ¡°I¡¯m Sue Wong. I, er, didn¡¯t know anyone else took this route.¡±

    Roger stepped forward and shook her hand. ¡°Roger Abercrombie. This is my sister, Charlotte. You were right: we¡¯re new.¡±

    ¡°Cool cool,¡± said Sue, standing to accommodate the handshake; the chainsaw bounced against her thigh. She smiled at Roger, looking him up and down, then switched to Charlotte. ¡°Are you going to Aquinas, too? Nice uniform.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Do you know your way around?¡±

    Sue snerkled. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone does. You know how they can¡¯t just make roads that go straight from one end of the city to the other, they have to zigzag or have random dead ends everywhere? And you know how they can¡¯t just call them First Street like they do in Manhattan? Aquinas is worse than that.¡±

    ¡°It can¡¯t be too bad,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°At least it¡¯s small.¡±

    ¡°If it were, that would make three of us.¡± She looked up at Roger, who was more than a head taller. ¡°No way you¡¯re a student. Even if you were in year twelve ¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a teacher,¡± he said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have to have a masters degree for that?¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t look that old either.¡±

    ¡°You did. They voted in a libertarian state government last election, and they scrapped all the requirements for that sort of thing. I haven¡¯t even started my undergrad.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I heard about that,¡± Sue said.

    She looked out the window, and something about the motion drew Roger¡¯s and Charlotte¡¯s gaze. Where the rest of the city was filthy and burned, there was a sleek, gunmetal grey tower, stretching up too high to see its top through the bus windows. On the front, over automatic glass doors, was the legend, Chypros Inc.

    ¡°They outsourced the police to the low bidder and/or high briber,¡± she continued. ¡°It¡¯s been an interesting school year so far.¡±

    ¡°At least Aquinas is still a decent place,¡± Charlotte prompted.

    ¡°Well, yeah. Good luck with teaching,¡± Sue said to Roger, ¡°we could use the help. Hey, you¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡±

    ¡°The next place along,¡± said Roger. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± said Sue. ¡°It ¨C¡±

    The bus crunched into something, fishtailed, and braked. The door automatically folded in, and a dinosaur hopped in. It was like a human-scale T Rex, but with metal hands with long telescoping claws, a bionic eye studded with red LEDs, and a chequered police hat. It spotted them, hopped the turnstile, lowered itself to a crouch, and lunged.

    Sue dashed forward to meet it. In a single, fluid motion, she took the chainsaw from her belt and yanked the starter cord, and the engine roared to life. At the same moment, the dinosaur reached her and double-swiped its knife hands; she ducked one, parried the other, stepped into the parry, and brought the chainsaw up and through the dinosaur¡¯s midsection, chopping it in half. Dinosaur ichor sprayed her, and cybernetic parts littered the bus.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little conspicuous that you aren¡¯t packing, yeah,¡± she said, and killed the chainsaw engine; she twirled it and hooked it back onto her sash. The bus¡¯s doors shut, and it began driving again. ¡°Can you look inside my bag? I have tissues.¡±

    Roger exchanged glances with Charlotte, and she went for the bag. She rummaged past textbooks, pieces of electronics, a spare chain, a change of underwear, a phone, and finally found a crumpled box of tissues. She wordlessly handed a wad over.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Sue wiped the chain clean and put the chainsaw away, then cleared her glasses, face, and as much of her uniform as she could, although it was completely covered in oil and something too dark and viscous to be real blood. She opened a window and threw the used tissues out. ¡°Ugh, I hate it when this happens. See, this is the problem with low bids, you never get any quality control.¡±

    ¡°Does this happen often?¡± Charlotte asked, concerned. She took more tissues and helped dab at Sue¡¯s uniform and skin.

    ¡°Not every day, but yeah, often enough to be a nuisance. You should learn chaindo. We have an after-school club you could join.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was chain fu,¡± Roger said.

    Sue shook her head. ¡°The Chinese do a lot of things well, but chainsaw-based martial arts isn¡¯t one of them. The Japanese are decades ahead of them. That was chaindo, with a bit of amateur chainjutsu. I need to find a real sensei.¡±

    ¡°So, that was Chypros¡¯ budget police?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah. Deinonycops, but everyone calls them raptors. They¡¯re not human, so minimum wage doesn¡¯t apply, but they also kind of just maul everyone, so they¡¯re a real pain. I hope the libertarians get voted out, but it¡¯s two more years. What can you do. Politics, right?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°Maybe I should join your club, then.¡±

    The bus scraped its undercarriage as it drove onto an arching stone bridge. To either side, they could see a blue river and a bay, glittering in the morning light, with more of the city ahead, a mixture of warehouses and towers.

    ¡°What do you study at school?¡± she went on.

    ¡°Maths and Eng are the only compulsory subjects,¡± Sue said. ¡°You pick the rest out of a list of like twenty extracurriculars. I mostly do mathsy ones. Have you picked yours?¡±

    Charlotte shook her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got all three sciences, computers, and music,¡± Sue continued, counting on her fingers. ¡°Oh, and they make you do phys ed too. It¡¯s mostly just boys who do sciences, which¡± she smirked ¡°has its moments. Are you into them?¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°I guess? Do you mean science or boys?¡±

    Sue just grinned at that.

    The bus turned through a set of wrought iron gates into a grounds surrounded by brick walls, with grassy fields and a single massive brick facade building. They could see a sign reading, ¡®Lord Aquinas Academy¡¯. The bus drove up to a double doors and stopped.

    ¡°Mum¡¯s not here,¡± Charlotte said quietly. Roger squeezed her hand.

    Sue took the lead. ¡°Let me show you around, then. Charlotte ¨C that¡¯s such a long name, can I just call you Lottie or something?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the same number of syllables?¡±

    ¡°Not in katakana. Lottie, let¡¯s stick together for a bit. Mr Abercrombie ¨C¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    ¡°¨C would you mind staying with us too? Our regular teacher¡¯s moping in the cafeteria, something about a girl, has been ever since the parent/teacher night.¡±

    ¡°You did kill a cyborg raptor for us just now,¡± he said. ¡°And admin hasn¡¯t actually told me anything, so sure, no worries. I¡¯m not as good as all that, though.¡±

    ¡°You did the same classes, what, like, three years ago? Don¡¯t you remember any of it?¡±

    ¡°They will have changed the curriculum since then. Abolished it, probably.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out,¡± said Sue, pushing through the front doors.

    Inside was a sprawling lobby. There were wooden doors along each wall, marked with four-digit numbers; granite pillars holding up the ceiling, carved into the shape of the three wise monkeys; and a black marble floor shiny enough to see their reflections. Directly ahead of them was a help desk with an Out To Lunch sign, despite how early it was. Around the room were vending machines with soft drinks, junk food, and stationery. He¡¯d been right: it was indeed air-conditioned. They took a moment to sigh happily and just stand there, cooling down.

    ¡°Where ¡­¡±

    ¡°Through here.¡±

    She led them through Door 9430, which opened into a nearly cubic room. There were four crates of textbooks, one of which had been upended; books littered the floor, along with sheets of working paper, and random stationery. In the middle of each wall was a door with a touchpad screen, glowing a soothing blue-green.

    ¡°To get to the next room, you have to solve the problems,¡± she explained. ¡°This is the maths sector, so they¡¯re all some variant of mathematical. We¡¯ve made a lot of headway, but we¡¯ve got stuck lately on a calc/trig one.¡±

    ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°Just a bit further.¡±

    She led them through two of the touchpad doors, into a room with a fountain over a statue of a woman in a toga, holding a fish in one hand and a sword in the other. A girl sat on the edge of the fountain, working on a notepad; she didn¡¯t look up. She had dirty blonde braids, and wore a red tie and pleated skirt with a white shirt.

    ¡°I come bearing gifts, partner mine,¡± said Sue.

    The blonde looked up and did a double-take that she smoothly turned into a once-over for both Roger and Charlotte. She gave a professional smile, set her notepad aside, stood, smoothed her skirt, and offered her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Bright,¡± she said.

    ¡°Abercrombie,¡± said Roger, shaking. ¡°This is my sister.¡±

    ¡°Charlotte,¡± she said. She wasn¡¯t sure whether to wait for Roger to finish shaking Bright¡¯s hand and then take her turn, or if that would take too long and be awkward, so she awkwardly waved instead.

    ¡°Charmed,¡± said Bright.

    ¡°There are a few more of us around here somewhere,¡± Sue said. ¡°We¡¯ve hit a few dead ends, so we split up to work on them separately. Lottie, do you want to come with me and meet Jase?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± said Charlotte, looking from Sue to Roger. ¡°If Rog¡¯s helping, I¡¯d think we¡¯d go faster together. Maybe you and I should find him, then all meet back here? And Rog, you can get started here?¡±

    He looked from her to Sue. ¡°That¡¯s logical,¡± he said.

    ¡°You could get a shower and change of clothes, while you¡¯re at it,¡± Bright said.

    ¡°Yeah, in a minute. He¡¯s through here,¡± Sue said to Charlotte, leading her through a side door, ¡°over in the polynomial section. What a trooper.¡±

    Bright watched them leave, then looked Roger over again. ¡°Do you know anything about this sort of problem?¡±

    She indicated one of the touchscreens. On it was a jumble of rotating triangles. Some periodically grew or shrank, like animations of tesseracts intersecting three-dimensional space. On the left was a green indicator.

    ¡°In any problem, you have to find some key value by combining other values according to a set of rules,¡± he said. He assumed she already knew this; it was for the sake of getting her on the same page, rather than telling her anything they didn¡¯t already know. ¡°The more rules you know, the more types of problem you can solve. In school, you¡¯re supposed to learn more rules as you go along, so we probably have more of those than we need; but they usually give exactly the basic values needed, nothing unnecessary and nothing missing that you have to guess.¡±

    Bright considered this. ¡°That isn¡¯t a bad way of putting it,¡± she said. ¡°Very mathematical. Which I expect is a good thing for a maths problem.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a list of operations on the sidebar here,¡± he said. On the left side of the screen was a section with animations, showing triangles folding into each other and themselves, their angles and sides warping as they did. ¡°I¡¯m not really allowed to tell you the answer, but I can say that it looks like this one already has everything you need. If it¡¯s not obvious how, you can always just try every possible combination until you get one that gives you the right answer. Once you get enough experience, you¡¯ll get intuition of which rules are most helpful when, so you¡¯ll be faster because you don¡¯t need to waste time with rules that don¡¯t go anywhere.¡±

    She sat back and looked at him. ¡°That was interesting, how you talked with your sister,¡± she said.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°She wanted to spend some time with her new friend, so you told her to go off and do that. But she made sure that there was a natural time limit. Maybe you¡¯re overprotective, and she knew you wouldn¡¯t have let her go if she hadn¡¯t ¡­ but I don¡¯t think so, I think she just wanted an out. If Wong¡¯s a jerk, she has a pretext to come straight back here.¡±

    He raised his eyebrows. ¡°You should be careful,¡± he said. ¡°Lots of people are sensitive about being psychoanalysed like that.¡±

    ¡°I think decisiveness is a higher virtue than caution,¡± she said. ¡°Are you sensitive?¡±

    He shrugged and sat beside her. ¡°No. It isn¡¯t a secret or anything. I do what I can to look out for her. I¡¯m her only reliable family.¡±

    Bright was quiet.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Just thinking about something,¡± she said.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he pressed.

    She met his eyes, then ducked her head. ¡°Give me a hint on the door?¡± she asked.

 School 2

    ¡°Where are you from, anyway?¡± Sue asked. ¡°You really don¡¯t seem like you¡¯re from around here.¡±

    ¡°Is this still because I don¡¯t have a chainsaw?¡± Charlotte asked.

    They had taken what Sue said was a shortcut through a back room, more like a long alleyway. There were bare floorboards and plaster walls, littered with pens, crumpled paper, and bow compasses. Above them was a skylight; with the angle of the sun, they could see motes of dust dancing in the air overhead.

    ¡°Speaking of which, there¡¯s a locker by the cafeteria. We¡¯ll get you both equipped when we get there. But I meant the way you keep looking around at everything, like you¡¯ve never seen a touchscreen before.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Charlotte said.

    Sue paused. ¡°Am I touching a nerve?¡±

    ¡°You ¡­ no, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m from across the railway line.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Sue said.

    Charlotte winced.

    ¡°Not that it¡¯s a problem,¡± Sue said hurriedly, making a gesture that was meant to be reassuring but which actually turned out more like jazz hands. ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect it. It¡¯s hard to get to here from there, is all. Isn¡¯t it a thing that most people never do, they spend their whole lives there? It means you¡¯re special that you did.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel special,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°Join the club,¡± Sue said. She motioned, and they both started moving again. ¡°Because if you¡¯re the only person who came here from there, then you¡¯re unique, which means you¡¯re so special that literally no-one else is like you. Well, except your brother, I guess. That¡¯s something I figured out within five minutes of meeting you, in which you haven¡¯t actually said much. And I¡¯m pretty awful at picking up social cues, and you¡¯re quiet.

    ¡°What you actually mean ¨C correct me if I¡¯m wrong ¨C is that you know you¡¯re special, or your circumstances are, but you don¡¯t think it¡¯s worth celebrating. It¡¯s like being in a wheelchair. If you are, then you¡¯re special, but in a bad way: most people can walk, but you can¡¯t. Maybe you make the best of it, but even the most handicapable person only brings themselves up to square one. It¡¯s not like being the best at something, where people look up to you.

    ¡°As for me, I¡¯m the only half-Chinese in the school. I¡¯m also the only girl of four siblings, and just about the only girl in half my classes. There are, like, four other things like that I¡¯ll tell you about later. What I think is that everyone has something like that. Like, imagine everyone has a unique colour. You can be pink,¡± she said, looking at Charlotte¡¯s shirt, bag, and ribbon. ¡°I¡¯ll be blue, and Bright is red. Does that make you weird, because you¡¯re not a primary colour?¡±

    Charlotte blinked and waited for a few seconds, checking whether this was a break she was expected to fill. ¡°Does it?¡±

    ¡°Well, let me ask the same question a different way. Pink is a variant of red. Does it make me weird, because blue is the only one of those colours that isn¡¯t red or reddish? And red is the only one of those colours that isn¡¯t pastel.¡±

    Charlotte looked at Sue¡¯s fuku, which was navy blue, not pastel.

    ¡°Hypothetically,¡± Sue said, waving the detail aside. ¡°The point is that it¡¯s easy to come up with dumb patterns that exclude people, so easy that it¡¯s meaningless. For any element of any set, you can say that that element doesn¡¯t belong to, open brackets, the set minus that element, close brackets. It¡¯s true for every member of every group, so that means that it isn¡¯t important for any member of any group.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying that I¡¯m not special after all?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°In your case? Yes, and it¡¯s in the good way. Coming here from across the line is hard, and you did it. It means you¡¯re stronger than you think you are. If ever I want to do something hard, I¡¯ll ask you for advice, same as how I¡¯d ask the gay guy for advice in home eco. If I did home eco. I¡¯m not a 1950s housewife.¡±

    Charlotte normally would have been more talkative, but she preferred to keep quiet while she figured new people out. Sue hadn¡¯t talked anywhere near this much in front of Roger; clearly she was the kind of person who behaved differently around different people. Perhaps she was just nervous because he was an older boy.

    ¡°What are your brothers like?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°The opposite of yours, I think,¡± Sue said. ¡°You know how, if there¡¯s a group of girls, they¡¯ll sit around talking about boys, but boys will decide to build a treehouse together? They do stuff like that, but I usually don¡¯t get invited. To be fair, it¡¯s partly because they¡¯re all older than me. It¡¯s hard to relate to someone who¡¯s three to ten years younger than you. So I don¡¯t really know a lot about them, considering.¡±

    Charlotte had never really considered the idea that a person could become lonelier if they had a larger family. ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no big deal.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°What about your parents?¡± she tried.

    Sue shrugged. ¡°Dad runs a restaurant. He¡¯s a pretty good cook; I¡¯ll treat you sometime. Mum works for the government, department of vagueness. Something to do with foreign embassies, I think? She never talks about it. What about yours? You said your mum worked here?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing like owning a restaurant or working at an embassy,¡± Charlotte said.

    They passed through the door at the far end of the room, into a futuristic room with white plastic walls, floor, and ceiling, lined with computer monitors. Every screen showed boxes falling down from the top, packing themselves away at the bottom, and scrolling down, similar to Tetris. The floor was covered with scraps of plastic wrapping, styrofoam, and popped bubble wrap.

    At one computer was a chubby boy with neck-length light brown hair, wearing black slacks and a button-up coat with a high collar. He had a heavy steel chainsaw slung over one shoulder. He looked like he¡¯d been working at the computer, but he¡¯d turned around at the sound of the door opening.

    ¡°Hey, Sue,¡± he said.

    ¡°Hey Jason. This is Lottie. We¡¯re BFFs now.¡± Charlotte went light pink. ¡°You¡¯ve been replaced.¡±

    ¡°That was quick,¡± he said, then, to Charlotte, ¡°You treat my little girl right, you hear me?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a new teacher too, a Mr Abercrombie who insists on being called that. We left him with Bright.¡±

    Jason raised his eyebrows. ¡°Then I hope you also brought a spare.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not that bad,¡± Sue said, but not very forcefully. ¡°Anyway, it looks like we might be able to make some headway. Let¡¯s find Blank and get our study on.¡±

    He swiped at the nearest computer monitor, and the boxes, instead of neatly piling up, spun and crashed against each other and broke apart. The words YOU SUCK flashed on the screen, but he¡¯d already turned away, walking toward Sue and Charlotte.

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± he said. ¡°She was checking out the ¡®saw inventory.¡±

    ¡°Convenient. Lottie and Mr Abercrombie need one each.¡±

    ¡°You, er, thinking of washing up while you¡¯re there,¡± he asked, ¡°or is this going to be a gore-soaked waifu dress day again?¡±

    ¡°Again?¡± Charlotte repeated.

    ¡°Give me a break,¡± Sue said, rubbing the back of her head. ¡°I just got here.¡±

    They went through another door that led to a little courtyard, long and narrow like a hallway and covered in bathroom tiles but open to the sky; with four-storey walls on all sides, it was reduced to a narrow blue rectangle above them. They passed a vending machine full of calculators and dictionaries and came to a red brick shed with a broken padlock.

    Sue pushed the door open. Inside was like a warehouse with a double-height ceiling. Cardboard boxes and wood-and-metal shelves lined the floor, arranged into squares so that a person could walk around them. Most of the boxes were taped shut; one was open, with a sea of foam peanuts around it. The shelves were lined with chainsaws and spare parts. There was a fuel tank in the back, together with a row of oil drums and even power outlets and batteries for children¡¯s weak electric chainsaws.

    A girl with long, dark, curly hair stood beside one shelf, looking back and forth from the chainsaws to a clipboard. Her outfit combined a mechanic¡¯s stained coveralls and steel-toed boots with the dark grey shirt of a martial arts uniform, cinched with a black cloth belt tight enough to show off her narrow waist. She didn¡¯t deal well with all the oil: her hands and clothes were spotted black, and her hair was frizzing out.

    She turned as they entered, very gracefully considering her footwear. ¡°Hiyo, Wong, Fisher,¡± she said. ¡°Erm. Pinkie.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that pink,¡± Charlotte mumbled.

    ¡°This is Lottie,¡± Sue announced. ¡°Abercrombie, if you insist on doing the stuffy upper-class private school thing.¡±

    ¡°And this is Blank,¡± Jason said to Charlotte of the new girl, deadpan. ¡°Among other things, head of the chainsaw martial arts club.¡±

    ¡°Pleased to meet you,¡± Blank said to Charlotte. ¡°Do you have one of those pocket chainsaws, or are you here to get a proper one?¡±

    Sue snorted. ¡°What, for in case she runs into some particularly wet tissue paper? A real one, please.¡±

    ¡°Welp, you¡¯ve come to the right place. Just in time, too, someone¡¯s been stealing supplies. The gunsaw¡¯s missing.¡±

    ¡°This is why we can¡¯t have nice things,¡± said Jason.

    Blank looked Charlotte up and down, then focused on her arms. She wasn¡¯t exactly buff. ¡°You look like you want something lightweight with good power, not so much focus on tank size or penetration. Come here a sec.¡±

    She led them between the boxes and shelves to one with unpainted chainsaws, took one off, hefted it, and handed it to Charlotte. It was lighter than it looked.

    ¡°That¡¯s made of aluminium,¡± Blank said. ¡°A lot of boys use steel, but I think girls should go aluminium or upgrade to titanium if you want to go further.¡±

    ¡°So, we actually had two reasons for coming here,¡± said Sue. ¡°No, three. This, I need a shower, and we¡¯ve got a new teacher.¡± She motioned the others to stay where they were, while she moved toward a side door with the universal sign for male and female bathrooms.

    ¡°Really!¡± said Blank. ¡°Way to bury the lede. Never mind this then.¡± She took a chainsaw for herself, hung it from her coveralls, and stuffed the clipboard behind the small of her back. ¡°Grab some fuel, Abercrombie, and let¡¯s see what this guy¡¯s made of. Erm, is he a guy?¡±

    ¡°Yes. But he¡¯s not literally made of Keycard,¡± said Jason, ¡°so you might want to pace yourself.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, Keycard?¡± said Charlotte, finding a sash to tie around her waist and hang the chainsaw from.

    ¡°It¡¯s why we bother showing up,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s something hidden somewhere in this school, behind all the puzzle door locks. Or, some of them, we don¡¯t actually know which. Honestly, we don¡¯t know much about it. What we do know is, those doors are all kind of pointless; you go through them and get a door with a harder lock. The Keycard is what opens the important doors. Once we find it, we¡¯ll be able to get out of this crummy school for good.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been searching for years,¡± said Blank. ¡°We don¡¯t know where it is for sure, or even what it looks like, but between us, we¡¯ve got the major connections mapped out pretty well. With your brother leading the way, we should be able to cover a lot more ground. Our last teacher only knows about a fifth of the school, and the locks there are partly random. Either that, or he¡¯s just completely hopeless.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s real?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°If you don¡¯t know what it looks it, it might not be. Or it might not work any more.¡±

    ¡°If it isn¡¯t real, we¡¯re probably done for either way,¡± said Jason. ¡°You stay here too long, eventually the raptors will catch up to you. So, no pressure.¡±

 School 3

    ¡°You call a rule general if you can use it for lots of different problems or specific if it only works on a few narrow types, and you call it strong if it tells you a lot about the solution ¨C especially if it tells you the answer right away ¨C or weak if it only gives you a little bit. Obviously you prefer general and strong rules, but that only goes so far, at least in school. They like to give you problems that need long sequences of obscure weak rules, just to ¡­ I¡¯m honestly not sure why. Still, you should usually start with trying the strongest rule you can think of, then work your way down.¡±

    Bright was watching Roger impassively as he spoke, and he couldn¡¯t tell how much of it was because she was listening to his lecture and how much she was trying to get inside his head. On one level, it didn¡¯t really matter, in that he was paid by the hour, but it was a little disturbing. There was something about the fact that she could try to read into what he said, but he had no information on her.

    ¡°I see,¡± she said. She moved over to the screen and began moving abstract, wriggling geometric objects around. ¡°This looks like the strongest rule here, but I¡¯m not sure it applies.¡±

    ¡°Take the three strongest,¡± he suggested, ¡°and play around with them for a bit.¡±

    As she worked on the problem, a door opened behind them, and in walked Sue, leading Charlotte, Jason, and Blank. Sue had showered and changed into a fresh uniform; she hadn¡¯t had a comb, so her hair was clumped and uneven, but it was the kind of obedient hair that naturally fell straight, and would be fine after it finished drip-drying.

    ¡°Sorry we¡¯re late,¡± she said.

    ¡°The bell hasn¡¯t rung yet,¡± Roger said. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve started early,¡± she said to Bright. ¡°Since when are you a bigger nerd than me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m a nerd,¡± Bright replied, not bothering to turn around, ¡°it¡¯s just that I have better things to do with my life than sit around like a gormless if unusually callipygian paperweight.¡± She slotted a rule in, and connections tied themselves throughout the screen, forming a logical path from foundation to finish; the screen began glowing the same blue-green as the other solved door locks, and the door clicked and swung open. ¡°Hah.¡±

    ¡°You think I¡¯m callipygian?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Wait, or did you mean yourself?¡±

    ¡°Well done,¡± Roger said to Bright, offering her a smile, then turned to the others. ¡°Hi everyone. I¡¯m Roger. I¡¯m your new teacher.¡± Jason and Blank gave muted hellos; he scanned from them to Charlotte and back. ¡°We¡¯re all already here, so let¡¯s keep at maths for a while longer.¡±

    The next room had more books and stationery overflowing from shelves onto the floor. The air was dusty from disuse, making Jason sneeze, visible in the beams of light that came down through an extensive skylight. There were four more doors.

    ¡°It¡¯s a big place,¡± Sue said to Roger. ¡°We¡¯re going to be here for a while.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re making headway already, though,¡± he said. ¡°If you get flustered, you can get stuck for ages. We should really stick together; it¡¯s easier to get stuck if you don¡¯t have anyone to help you out.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not supposed to,¡± Blank said uncertainly.

    ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± Roger asked.

    ¡°A plane could crash,¡± Sue said, ¡°rupturing its fuel tanks, which would catch fire and turn into an inferno, causing ¨C¡±

    ¡°Is this going to take long?¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°No worries. You, Charlotte, and ¡­¡± Roger trailed off.

    ¡°Jason.¡±

    ¡°And Jason, take that door. Bright and ¨C¡±

    ¡°Blank.¡±

    ¡°Bright and Blank, take that one. I¡¯ll show the first group how to do it, then see how you¡¯re doing.¡±

    Bright gave him a very piercing look. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Come on, Blank.¡±

    Sue and Jason led Roger and Charlotte to another door, this one with spinning cones that intersected each other, with wires spiralling down their sides like lights on a Christmas tree.

    ¡°Blank¡¯s not wrong,¡± Jason said. ¡°We are supposed to do these on our own.¡±

    Sue touched the screen to begin. ¡°Does it actually bother you?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± he asked, moving beside her to fiddle with the digital shapes. ¡°No, I kept getting flustered and was stuck for ages, but ¨C¡±

    With an almighty crunch and a spray of glass shards, another two cyborg dinosaurs crashed through the skylight, masses of bright and colourful feathers, buzzsaws, rocket pods, and assorted cybernetics. They screeched, either for intimidation or from pain from all the broken glass, and turned so they were back-to-back, one facing Bright and Blank, one Roger and his group.

    Jason and Sue drew their chainsaws and yanked them to start, moving forward to attack. On the opposite side of the room, Blank and Bright pulled out their weapons, Blank holding back in a practised martial arts pose, Bright going forward. The raptors dashed forward to attack, one shooting flechettes from a shoulder launcher, the other spinning up a saw grafted onto its arm.

    Sue swung from the left; the raptor shied away, leaving it open to Jason to carve it apart. Behind it, Bright parried her raptor¡¯s saw, fell back, and sliced through its neck. Both raptors fell, leaking oil and ichor, machinery falling out of wounds and spilling across the floor.

    ¡°Another benefit of sticking together,¡± Jason said, killing his saw. Sue handed him a tissue and he set to cleaning it.

    Bright pulled out a tissue to wipe her chainsaw down, then stuffed it back into her bra and knelt down to examine the fallen raptor. Inside its police cap was an ID card.

    ¡°These were from the anti-cheating division,¡± she read aloud, then looked up at Roger. ¡°We¡¯re allowed to study together, but not work on the problems together.¡±

    Roger had taken a flechette in his left arm. He stepped out from in front of Charlotte, pulled it out and winced, shedding a few droplets of blood. Charlotte pulled a handkerchief from her bag and pressed it to the injury, stopping the bleeding and keeping any more from getting onto his suit.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said to her, then to Bright, ¡°They must¡¯ve tightened up the rules in the last few years. I¡¯ve never had the dinosaur police called on me for cheating before.¡±

    ¡°Mother mentioned she was trying to access new markets,¡± she said. ¡°Yes, she works for Chypros. They must have signed a contract with the school, too.¡±

    He shook his head. I really hate those guys. ¡°Well, that¡¯s life. We can make do. There are four doors here. One of you can work on each, with one taking a break, and I¡¯ll ¨C¡±

    One touchpad turned blue-green by itself, and the door swung open. Behind was a girl of about Roger¡¯s age, wearing digicam military fatigues. Her long brown hair was tied in a ponytail and stuffed down the back of her shirt. She had oval glasses in front of hazel eyes. In one hand, she held a badly dented golf club spattered in something oily. Her eyes flicked from Bright, who was closest to the door, to Roger, to Charlotte, and back to Roger, where they stayed.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said quietly.

    He blinked. ¡°Don¡¯t I know you from somewhere?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Maybe,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m Lieutenant Martin, here. Call ¨C call me Jill, please.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Roger,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not with Chypros, are you?¡±

    She frowned. ¡°What even is ¡­ no, I¡¯m not. Can I talk with you, alone?¡±

    ¡°Er, you might want to know, that¡¯s not a real lieutenant¡¯s uniform,¡± Jason said, directing it to Roger.

    Jill rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve had some really bad luck lately,¡± she said under her breath, then aloud, ¡°I¡¯m not a real soldier, no. And I don¡¯t have any better weapons than this,¡± she waved the golf club. ¡°So may I talk with you? It¡¯s important.¡±

    Roger looked over at his students, then back to her. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to be on your own around here,¡± he said, and he took a step forward. ¡°The raptors are out of control.¡±

    ¡°I think they¡¯re deinonychus ¨C¡± she said.

    ¡°We know,¡± said Sue.

    ¡°¨C but yes, I¡¯ve noticed. Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m pretty good at taking care of myself.¡±

    He shrugged. Over his shoulder, he said, ¡°Try the other problems, I¡¯ll only be a minute,¡± and followed Jill into the next room, far away enough that they could talk in muted voices without being overheard but still close enough that the students could still hear that they were talking. ¡°Who are you really?¡±

    ¡°Just Jill. I¡¯m a civilian. I¡¯m not any sort of fighter, although I like to pretend.¡± She looked around; there were another two unlocked doors. ¡°I figured you¡¯d make it around here sooner or later, and then I just followed the sound of roaring cyborg dinosaurs.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t really tell me anything,¡± Roger said. ¡°How did you know I¡¯d be here? How do you know me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± she said seriously. ¡°If I tell you exactly, that act will wreck something important. But it¡¯s something like, I¡¯m a time traveller. We¡¯ve spent some time together in other sort-of timelines, and you¡¯ve inherited some memories from then.¡±

    ¡°Not a time traveller, but something similar,¡± he said, thinking it over. ¡°Timelines, with memory bleed. I would¡¯ve thought that wouldn¡¯t work. If I can remember anything at all, that would suggest my mind would have had to go back in time ¡­¡±

    ¡°I mean it¡¯s like time travel in the narrative sense of the same or similar events repeating,¡± she said. ¡°Not in the literal sense. Your mind isn¡¯t going back in time. But the point is, the other timelines went ¡­ badly. This one probably will too, but I¡¯m trying to fix things. I¡¯ve got two plans. For one of them, I need your help. You gave me half of a password, Antonio. You said he was an action hero you made up when you were a kid.¡±

    He blinked. ¡°I did?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she said, suddenly much less sure of herself. ¡°Antonio something. I think you said you were nine?¡±

    ¡°Antonio ¡­ oh, right!¡± he exclaimed. In the previous room, all the students looked up. He lowered his voice again. ¡°Wow, I¡¯d forgotten about him. I told you about him? How drunk was I?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± she said, then decided to power through this. ¡°You told me to get you to tell me his surname, because if I told you that in the next timeline, you¡¯d know you could trust me.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Can I trust you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°¡­ Yes?¡±

    ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve just met,¡± he said, ¡°you know a lot more about me than I know about you, including something even I¡¯d forgotten, and you¡¯ve given a vague and probably physically impossible explanation why. It¡¯s literally more suspicious than if you¡¯d said you were a stalker.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll remember that for the next timeline,¡± she muttered. ¡°Well ¡­ the reason I knew you¡¯d wind up here is that you always do, in every timeline. See that?¡±

    She pointed above one of the unlocked doors, at a plaque reading ¡®RAYS¡¯.

    ¡°They have a RAYS here?¡± Roger asked, perking up. ¡°Nice. That might come in useful later.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s dramatically ironic,¡± she said. ¡°In every timeline, one of your friends is a mole. They sabotage something, and you and your sister seek shelter in a RAYS. But it never works out.¡±

    ¡°What about everyone else?¡±

    Jill shrugged. ¡°The mole is someone different each time. It¡¯s never been you or your sister; I¡¯m not sure whether that¡¯s a rule or a coincidence. So, you should stay on your guard.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said.

    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ll tell me his surname?¡±

    ¡°No offence, but I still don¡¯t know I can trust you,¡± he said. ¡°And if I can¡¯t, and you¡¯d use that trust to double-cross a future timeline version of myself ¡­¡±

    ¡°I guess there¡¯s more to talking to real people than just not stuttering,¡± she said ruefully. ¡°Uh, that is, I watch a lot of movies. Well ¡­ I think there¡¯s still plenty of time, and I wanted to try something else, too. Would you help me look for someone?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be helping these guys with their maths homework,¡± he pointed out.

    She worried at her lip, before coming to a decision. ¡°That might be for the best, actually,¡± she said. ¡°Thank you for listening to me, anyway.¡± She indicated that they should go, and they went back into the room with the two dead raptors. ¡°Hey, everyone,¡± she said. ¡°Have any of you seen a man with a hunched back and a monobrow? He might have been wearing a green robe? He¡¯s very unhelpful and taciturn, probably didn¡¯t give a name?¡±

    ¡°Except for the robe, that sounds like one of the janitors,¡± said Blank. ¡°I saw him lurking around the history wing earlier. I¡¯m not sure what he was doing, except that it wasn¡¯t cleaning.¡±

    ¡°That would be him,¡± said Jill. ¡°Thanks.¡± She made for the door Roger¡¯s group had come in through. Just before passing through, she added, ¡°Watch your backs, all of you. I¡¯ll see if I can¡¯t make it back here before anything too bad happens.¡± Then she was gone.

    ¡°¡­ Who was she?¡± asked Bright.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure,¡± Roger said. ¡°She seemed pretty confident something bad would happen, but she didn¡¯t say what or why.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe her, Mr Abercrombie?¡± Jason asked. ¡°How bad could a school day be?¡± Roger glanced at him; he was rooting around inside the chest cavity of one of the dead raptors, scavenging circuit boards and hydraulic pistons.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s a RAYS up ahead, though, so at least we¡¯re prepared.¡±

    ¡°You have a RAYS here?¡± Charlotte asked Sue, impressed.

    ¡°A better question is why it was behind a door locked with an advanced calculus problem,¡± Sue replied. ¡°Who designed this place, the same guy who did the architecture in Resident Evil?¡±

    ¡°Should we go?¡± Bright asked, a little impatiently, indicating the door Jill had come from.

    There were four doors on three walls: the one they saw Jill open, the one with the RAYS, another one that Jill must have opened when she first reached the room, and one beside it that was still locked. The fourth wall was taken up with French windows opening onto a huge open field, including a football pitch and a swimming pool.

    ¡°Mind if I take a look in here?¡± Blank asked, indicating the RAYS.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take too long,¡± said Roger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll catch you up.¡± She walked inside.

    The rest of them trooped through the third door, which led to a food court, a hallway full of tables set with four uncomfortable metal chairs each. Around the walls were ads, more vending machines, and fast food kiosks, all but one unmanned. Roger led his class to the kiosk.

    In front of it sat a man in a tuxedo with full tails, which looked very out of place on the cheap metal chair. He had light brown hair and blue eyes with smile lines; he looked about thirty but would have been shorter than Roger if he¡¯d stood up, so he stayed in the chair. He had a hot dog half in a wrapper in front of him; judging by his expression, it hadn¡¯t cheered him up. He didn¡¯t say anything as they approached.

    Behind the counter was a woman with dark brown hair, wearing a black cocktail dress slit most of the way up her thighs. She looked like she needed a lot more sleep than she¡¯d had; she was leaning hard against the counter and seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes open.

    ¡°Hi, mum,¡± said Roger.

 School 4

    Jill¡¯s head constantly tilted up and from side to side as she made her way through the school, silently observing the scenery. Ever since the first night when Wasp Girl had shown up, her dreams had been larger and more beautiful, but also emptier. There were so many rooms, quite likely an infinite number, with almost no-one in them, when her dreams used to be full of random characters. Now, they were populated by real people, and not very many of them, considering the scale of the places she found herself.

    Her intuition was still a good guide through the dreamscape. She followed the trail of unlocked doors out to the school¡¯s lobby, then picked another door and found herself in the history area. Instead of the sleek touchpads from the maths wing, the doors here had what looked like intricate wooden dollhouses bolted on.

    She narrowed her eyes at the nearest. There were thirty or so figures with painted outfits standing in and around a squat building. There were no instructions anywhere, and this clearly wasn¡¯t the same as the maths puzzles.

    Usually, these worlds seemed to have a few different aesthetics randomly patchworked together, with minor obstacles scattered throughout. It wasn¡¯t usually too hard to get anywhere, but it tended to be slow going. If she could find a shotgun, she could probably just break through the doors, but that was a long shot: the only times she¡¯d ever seen any respectable weapons, they¡¯d been in the hands of someone who turned out to be a murderer that time round.

    Like you.

    She pushed the thought aside and focused on the puzzle. For any puzzle lock, there is a goal state, which implies that if the door isn¡¯t already unlocked, it isn¡¯t in the goal state. She shook the dollhouse, and the figurines vibrated. They weren¡¯t fixed to the floors; they could be moved. The objective had to be to put them into the correct positions, to ¡­ for a history problem, probably to reenact some important historical event.

    She looked the figurines over more closely. One had nice-looking clothes; she decided he was probably a high-ranking official, so she put him inside the building, which she designated either a small castle or an ugly government office. Several with red shirts could have been soldiers, so she placed them around the top of the building like sentries. Some of the figurines had darker skins, so on a whim she decided that it was a rebellion against a British colony, and they were attacking from outside. One by one, she arranged the dolls, and finally there came a grinding sound from the mechanism, and the door swung open.

    The area past the first door was thick with dust, cobwebs, and old reference books. That was another thing that she was still getting used to: she¡¯d never seen true writing in her dreams before. There had been books and signs, but they¡¯d only ever had vague squiggles which sometimes parsed as a sort of writing substitute that fed directly into her understanding without any actual reading.

    There were more doors, but these were already open. There were footprints in the dust, describing a twisting path through one room after another, finally leading outside, to a little courtyard enclosed by ivy-laden brick walls. Pure blue sky radiated heat overhead. Jill barely noticed.

    The hunchbacked man wore a green janitor¡¯s jumpsuit. He leaned against a mop like a walking stick and was smoking a cigarette. He spared her only a twitch of his eyes as she approached.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she said. He ignored her. ¡°I think there¡¯s a rule against doing that within ten metres of most schools.¡±

    He let out a put-upon sigh but didn¡¯t butt out. ¡°Don¡¯t you have classes?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing private study,¡± she said.

    She knew that none of this was real, but if she said it out loud or even hinted at it too obviously, normally she¡¯d wake up. That rule might or might not apply to shared dreams, but there was no telling what would happen if she did wake up prematurely.

    At real school, she¡¯d told Roger she had a bad feeling about Wasp Girl, but that was only because she wasn¡¯t at all eloquent in real life. Really, she was terrified. In dreams, she could generally intuit who would be friendly and who hostile, and that still applied, but when she met Wasp Girl, all she could sense was alien wrongness.

    ¡°And I was hoping you might be able to give me a few pointers,¡± she went on.

    ¡°Think again,¡± he said.

    She¡¯d expected him to be unhelpful, so she ignored it. ¡°Do you have a name?¡±

    He glared at her. ¡°Why would I need a name?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°I thought not. I recently met someone else who didn¡¯t have one. You¡¯re the same as her, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    He spat out the cigarette and let it smoulder on the concrete. ¡°Don¡¯t compare me to that thing.¡±

    ¡°Inasmuch as neither of you are real,¡± Jill said smoothly.

    ¡°I¡¯m as real as you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m just not physical. I live with the transfer student. That thing ¨C I don¡¯t know what she is, I don¡¯t want to know.¡±

    ¡°What are you, exactly? Back before she came along, I¡¯ve never met one of your kind lucid enough to answer. Some sort of NPC? I guess these worlds are normally supposed to help the ¨C visitor ¨C form memories or something, and people like you help with memories involving interactions with other humans?¡±

    ¡°Why are you still talking at me?¡± he asked. ¡°I don¡¯t like you.¡±

    ¡°Partly I¡¯m fishing,¡± she said, ¡°but mostly I¡¯m trying to segue back to her. If she¡¯s not like you, what is she?¡±

    ¡°I already told you I don¡¯t want to know.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then give me something else. What does she want? Why is she so strong?¡±

    He said nothing.

    ¡°I know you know,¡± she said. ¡°If not the answers to these questions, you have to know at least part of what¡¯s going on. I record all these adventures, you know. I can¡¯t remember all of what you said, but I once saw you talk to her. You knew some of what was going on.¡±

    ¡°Go away and enjoy the ride,¡± he said.

    ¡°I¡¯m losing track of how many times I¡¯ve been brutally murdered in what¡¯s normally my personal sanctuary,¡± Jill said. ¡°¡®Enjoy¡¯ is not the word I¡¯d use.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t help you,¡± he said.

    ¡°Then why not point me to someone who can?¡± she asked. ¡°Maybe, the guardian?¡±

    He pursed his lips.

    ¡°You mentioned it when you talked to her. I forgot, but a friend read my record yesterday and pointed it out to me. I don¡¯t know who or what it is, but she seemed afraid of it. Like it wasn¡¯t aware of her, or couldn¡¯t reach her in time, but if someone fetched it, it would be able to defeat her. And she seemed to think that you could reach it.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you again,¡± he said. ¡°Drop it and leave me alone.¡±

    ¡°Every time I¡¯ve fought her, she¡¯s slaughtered me,¡± said Jill. ¡°Every single time, and I get the feeling she wasn¡¯t even trying. I need the guardian¡¯s help, and you¡¯re my only lead.¡±

    ¡°Then find another lead.¡±

    She blinked. ¡°You¡¯re not just programmed to be surly and obnoxious. You¡¯re afraid. Of what?¡±

    The hunchback glared at her. ¡°Of dying, you imbecile. You really have no idea what you¡¯re up against. She kills you a few times, and you think that¡¯s the threat? No. She has this entire reality in total lockdown, including everyone in it. She can read and control minds as easily as breathing. There is no going against her.¡±

    ¡°She can¡¯t control my mind,¡± Jill countered, shoving down the memory of cutting Roger down. ¡°Her telekinesis doesn¡¯t work on objects that I touch. Her powers don¡¯t directly work on me. My intuition says she probably can¡¯t read my mind, either. I can¡¯t beat her, yet, but I can fight her.¡±

    ¡°When you do, she¡¯ll just kill you again.¡±

    ¡°Not this time. Because this time, the guardian is going to fight her for me. Look at it this way. Either you lead me to it now, and you¡¯re no longer relevant to either her or me, or you stonewall me, and you make yourself her one weakness. If she¡¯s as omniscient as you think she is, she¡¯ll know that, and she¡¯ll know that I¡¯ll come back to hassle you next time, and the time after.¡±

    He growled in the back of his throat. ¡°You have no idea what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°That would be why I¡¯m asking the world¡¯s most obnoxious janitor and/or friar for help. You¡¯re going to agree, you know. See, she knows it, so she¡¯ll kill you if she gets the chance. And you know that, so you¡¯ll have to agree. And I know you know that, so I¡¯m going to keep pestering you.¡±

    He spat on the ground. ¡°You have no idea how annoying you are.¡±

    ¡°That reminds me, I should give you a name,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m thinking Irony is suitable.¡±

    ¡°Rr. Fine. The guardian is exactly what it sounds like. The same sort of thing as me, except his job is to keep the transfer student¡¯s head healthy by killing off mind infections. I don¡¯t know if she is really an infection, but if there¡¯s anything anywhere that can beat her, it¡¯s him.¡±

    ¡°Then why hasn¡¯t he already?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you think I know everything,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m only supposed to help with the transfer student¡¯s socialisation, and I wasn¡¯t even in charge.¡±

    ¡°Then who is?¡±

    ¡°Nobody, they¡¯re all dead. That thing wiped out everyone who might be able to stop her when she first showed up; that¡¯s why these places are always so empty. The only reason I think the guardian¡¯s even alive is that she hinted it when I saw her.¡±

    Jill already knew that Wasp Girl wasn¡¯t just dumb muscle, but it was still disheartening to be told that she was also methodical. ¡°Let¡¯s assume that she did something to keep the guardian from finding out about her, or maybe from acting on it, but if we tell him or bring him to her, he¡¯ll be able to take her on. How do we do that? Where is he?¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know everything.¡±

    ¡°Guess. If you were the guardian, where would you be?¡±

    The hunchback shrugged apathetically.

    Jill let a breath out through her nose and began thinking aloud. ¡°If I were a sort of psychological police officer, I¡¯d stay somewhere I could monitor things and respond quickly, so probably in the middle of the area. But that isn¡¯t what actually happens. I¡¯m pretty sure Wasp Girl¡¯s shrine is often in the middle.¡± She frowned. ¡°I must be looking at this the wrong way. Advanced computer viruses include code to deactivate antivirus software, but not to uninstall it, because that¡¯s harder to do and more obvious. If I were whatever she is, how would I ensure the guardian couldn¡¯t interfere? I¡¯d put him in a locked box where everything looked fine, and I¡¯d put the rest of the world out far away from that, with my shrine in the middle. I¡¯d make his area as inaccessible as possible, so that there was no chance of anyone accidentally finding him.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s in this world somewhere,¡± the hunchback said. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about him, but he knows enough about the transfer student to be able to tell if they¡¯re in the same general area.¡±

    Jill ran her tongue over her teeth. ¡°I¡¯d interpret that as meaning that there has to be some path connecting him to the rest of us, so she can¡¯t just bury him in a bunker a mile below the surface with thirty blast doors. The world probably isn¡¯t that large, too, not if it has to fit inside our heads. She might try security through obscurity, hide him in a toilet or something, but I don¡¯t think so; too much risk of one of the others bumping into him by accident. If I were her, I¡¯d hide him at the edge of the world, behind something as discouraging as possible.¡± She blinked. ¡°The Chypros tower.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± said the hunchback, unimpressed. ¡°Maybe not.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I know it¡¯s a leap of logic, but it¡¯s worth trying. The Chypros Institute keeps cropping up, and I have no idea who or what they are. Do you?¡±

    He grumbled.

    ¡°Even if I¡¯m wrong about the guardian being there, they¡¯re a piece of the puzzle that I want to find out about,¡± said Jill. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Why would I want to go anywhere with you?¡± asked the hunchback.

    ¡°Because Wasp Girl¡¯s powers don¡¯t work on me, so she can¡¯t scry on me and won¡¯t know to come find you. If I¡¯m not around to block her, though ¡­¡±

    He grumbled again, but followed her as she led him back through the history classrooms, to the foyer, and out the front gate. The autobus that Roger had come from was still there, waiting. Beyond it, the grey Chypros tower stretched up to the sky.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk tactics,¡± she said. ¡°If there are more raptor cyborgs, I can handle myself, but I¡¯m not sure I can protect ¨C¡±

    A bullet zinged past Jill¡¯s head; she instinctively ducked and twisted, and a second one went through where her neck had just been. She shoulder-checked the hunchback and used the impact to push off, and a third bullet went between them. She grabbed the crook of his elbow and sprinted, staying low and zigzagging as more bullets tore chunks of concrete out of the lot.

    They made it onto the bus. The hunchback ducked under the side panelling and moved along so that the sniper wouldn¡¯t know where to aim; bullets punched through windows, spraying glass along the aisle, but not doing real damage. Jill went to the driver¡¯s seat. The bus was self-driving, but it still had a steering wheel and ignition, with the key in the glove box. She hit the engine and floored the accelerator, tearing out of the school grounds with a squeal of rubber.

    The hunchback hobbled over. ¡°This was a great idea,¡± he said sarcastically.

    ¡°Thanks so much, Irony. Did you get a look at who it was?¡± she asked. He shook his head. ¡°Neither did I. Well, nothing we can do now except hope the others can hold their own until we find the guardian.¡±

    She turned onto an arched stone bridge and into a section of city that looked burned out and somehow even more derelict than the school. It definitely looked like the edge of the dream world. The roads became choked with rubbish, and she had to swerve from time to time to avoid broken glass.

    Finally they came to the base of the tower. She killed the engine, and they climbed out of the bus.

    ¡°Well?¡± he said, as Jill was standing there, not making to go inside. ¡°Front door¡¯s right there.¡±

    ¡°I was thinking,¡± she said. ¡°If I were Wasp Girl, I¡¯d put decoys or maybe even traps around anywhere important. The front door is the direct approach, but maybe there¡¯s a shortcut.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    She looked up. There were metallic walls, but also mirrored windows, drainpipes, and windowsills that could make for decent ledges. In real life, she would never consider it.

    ¡°I think we could skip the first few storeys by breaking a window,¡± she said.

    ¡°Do you seriously think I can climb a sheer wall?¡± he asked.

    She looked him over. She hadn¡¯t really thought about it before, but even if he was some sort of dream construct, he was still physically a disfigured old man. He didn¡¯t move much, so she didn¡¯t really notice, but when he did, it was slow and clumsy.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to do a lap of the building and look for a rope to pull you up, or a fire escape, or something,¡± said Jill. ¡°Stay here.¡±

    The hunchbacked man folded his arms and watched as Jill walked away and passed behind the building.

    ¡°You promised not to tell,¡± said the girl with wasp wings, directly behind him.

    He jumped, whirled with more agility than his posture would indicate was possible, and backed away very quickly. ¡°You! I didn¡¯t say anything she couldn¡¯t have guessed, and I wasn¡¯t going ¨C¡±

    The hunchbacked man flew up six storeys, reversed direction, smacked into the pavement hard enough to send out spiderweb fracture lines, and bounced into an industrial wood chipper that appeared behind the girl.

    Jill finished her lap. ¡°There¡¯s nothing much, but I¡¯m sure I can find something to use as a rope inside ¨C¡±

    The hunchback was gone, replaced by a thick red spray across the building¡¯s facade that slowly seeped down into the gutter. She walked forward and tested it with her boot: slick, with small gritty objects that could have been teeth or bone fragments.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    She looked up at the tower, then went over to a drainpipe and began to climb.

 School 5

    ¡°Oh. Rog, honey, I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±

    Roger and his new class were clustered around his mother¡¯s food stall. The man in the tuxedo was watching without much enthusiasm. Roger and Charlotte had shifted to the front of the group, the others quietly moving backward to watch.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Roger said. ¡°You didn¡¯t see us outside, either.¡±

    He tried to keep the testiness out of his voice, because he was aware that it wasn¡¯t helpful and she was stressed enough from work without him chewing her out for it, but he didn¡¯t quite succeed. He¡¯d really hoped she¡¯d be able to make time for them on the first day, at least for Charlotte¡¯s sake. She was more sensitive to that sort of thing than he was.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, visibly struggling to stay awake and upright. ¡°I had a shift last night. I barely got here on time.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well,¡± he said, trying to hold back, ¡°it¡¯s a pity. Still, we¡¯re doing well in class. Everyone, this is my mother, April Abercrombie.¡±

    ¡°An agreeably alliterative appellation,¡± Jason observed.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Sue said. Bright shot them both a look of disgust.

    ¡°Hi,¡± April said, forcing out a smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that. I ¨C¡± she yawned widely ¡°¨C it¡¯s great how much you¡¯ve learned yourself.¡±

    ¡°Someone¡¯s got to do it,¡± he said, and this time he let a little too much bitterness into his tone, because she frowned.

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not fair,¡± she said. ¡°I have to take the shifts they give me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, okay,¡± he said, ¡°and you have to rest and relax in between, and you have to sleep late to make up the difference, but after all these things you have to do, there sure isn¡¯t a lot of time left for anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Well, what do you want me to do?¡± she asked. ¡°I have to work, and I can¡¯t get a nice unionised job like teaching. It¡¯s easy for you to be judgmental ¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s very easy,¡± he said, ¡°because I wasn¡¯t a born genius. I worked for this. It took hard work and responsibility.¡±

    Charlotte¡¯s eyes had widened in panic, but she froze. Sue and Jason had instinctively taken a step backward. Bright stood her ground, silently watching Roger¡¯s body language.

    ¡°I¡¯m working as hard as anyone,¡± April said indignantly. ¡°That¡¯s why I don¡¯t have time to hold your hand every day. I¡¯m sorry, okay? I¡¯ll set an earlier alarm next time.¡±

    Roger had a moment where he could very clearly see himself replying, ¡®Or a louder one,¡¯ to the point that he half thought he¡¯d said it, but he managed to swallow it.

    There came a clatter of footsteps from behind them, and they turned to see Blank approaching.

    ¡°Hey guys,¡± she said. ¡°Mister Abercrombie, Mister Robards,¡± she added to Roger and the man in the tuxedo, her voice the careful neutral of someone trying to keep their temper in check.

    ¡°Hi,¡± Roger said, more shortly than he¡¯d intended. He cleared his throat and tried again. ¡°Hello,¡± he repeated, more gently this time. ¡°What did you think of the RAYS?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly what I was expecting,¡± she said. Her eyes flicked over to Charlotte, then back to him. ¡°Not that it wouldn¡¯t work, it¡¯s just that there were lots of weird photos in there.¡±

    He filed this fact away. ¡°Wait, you said Mister Robards?¡± he said, half-turning to the man in the tuxedo. He hadn¡¯t realised he¡¯d gone off at his mother with a colleague watching.

    ¡°He¡¯s our English teacher,¡± Sue explained. She peered at him more closely. ¡°Aaand no offence but I think it¡¯s probably a good day to focus on the sciences.¡±

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Charlotte asked him nervously.

    He mumbled something, then cleared his throat and repeated, ¡°Great, ¡®cept I¡¯m useless at everything.¡±

    Bright rolled her eyes. Sue and Jason exchanged glances of, ¡®Here we go again.¡¯ Blank balled a tight fist and muttered, ¡°Adults,¡± venom in her voice.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Charlotte pressed.

    April replied for him. ¡°His girlfriend¡¯s gone away,¡± she said. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m not sure if he means¡± she drew a finger across her neck ¡°or that she just had to move for work, or she found some way up and out of here. Probably not the first one, but I can¡¯t really tell, he¡¯s not very coherent. He¡¯s had a lot of hot dogs; I really should have cut him off two or three dogs ago.¡±

    ¡°Should we maybe look for her?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°We¡¯re already looking for the Keycard; maybe we¡¯ll find her before that.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s still in the school at all,¡± Blank murmured.

    ¡°If you see anyone like that around here, I guess you could ask her to give him a visit,¡± April said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s in any condition to go with you, not after all those dogs. I¡¯ll make him some coffee and watch him while he sobers up.¡±

    They looked at him, and he stirred vaguely.

    ¡°We should get back to it,¡± Roger said.

    ¡°Er,¡± Sue said. ¡°While we¡¯re here ¡­?¡± She looked up at April with puppy-dog eyes.

    April shrugged and bent down behind the counter. When she straightened, she had a box of chips and fried chicken.

    ¡°No hot dogs until you¡¯re eighteen,¡± she said, pushing it forward. Sue took it and ate a chip, her eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. Jason took a drumstick, then stepped away, making room for Charlotte and the others to take something.

    ¡°No thanks,¡± Bright said, waving them off. ¡°I¡¯m on a diet.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Sue said. ¡°You¡¯re already almost as skinny as Lottie.¡±

    ¡°Half of that explains the other half,¡± Bright said. ¡°And I¡¯m a picky eater.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Roger said again. ¡°See you around, mum.¡±

    ¡°Bye,¡± Charlotte said.

    ¡°Nice meeting you,¡± Sue added.

    They turned and headed back to the classrooms.

    ¡°Do we have a strategy?¡± Jason asked.

    ¡°Work through the problems methodically,¡± said Roger.

    ¡°If I may,¡± Bright said, ¡°I think it¡¯ll be faster to focus on high-priority areas. Ones where we can make progress quickly, ones where the think the Keycard is likely to be. We¡¯re mostly good at the sciences, and we¡¯re most of the way through already.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have wasted a lot of time if it turns out it¡¯s at the back of the English wing,¡± Blank noted.

    ¡°We can¡¯t do much there right now anyway, not with Robards being ¡­ well,¡± Bright said, her nose tilted upward, despite not being tall enough to look down it at anyone. ¡°And I have a theory, that it doesn¡¯t really matter what path you take, they all lead to the same place in the end. So it¡¯s best to just go all the way through one route, rather than dabbling in several.¡±

    Blank said nothing.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look happy,¡± Charlotte said.

    Blank opened her mouth, shut it, let out a breath, and spoke. ¡°I think maybe Bright¡¯s right,¡± she said, ¡°that they all lead to the same place. But I¡¯m worried that they all lead nowhere. I think the Keycard isn¡¯t here at all. I think maybe someone took it away before any of us were even born. I don¡¯t have any better ideas, so I didn¡¯t want to bring it up, but I can¡¯t get enthusiastic if this might be a wild goose chase.¡±

    ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t really care whether it¡¯s here,¡± Bright said. ¡°What matters is that we get through the important doors. The Keycard¡¯s one way to open them, but it¡¯s not the only way, and it probably isn¡¯t even the best one. If the Keycard quest falls through, I have plenty of backup plans.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we just take one of those, then?¡± Charlotte asked.

    Bright looked from her to Roger and back. ¡°We might as well keep trying this for a little longer,¡± she said. ¡°After all, we¡¯re already here.¡±

    They¡¯d made it back to the maths wing, and a new room overflowing with reference books, old scrap paper, and more puzzles. An entire-wall window gave a view of the city, and the imposing Chypros tower.

    ¡°Everyone, pick one,¡± Roger directed. ¡°I¡¯ll circle around and help if you get stuck.¡±

    At that exact moment, there was a flash from the Chypros tower, as a fireball billowed out near the base. A few seconds later, the shockwave reached them and rattled the window in its frame.

    ¡°The heck was that?¡± Sue asked.

    They stared out the window. The fireball swirled in a cloud of smoke and dust and began to dissipate. The tower¡¯s superstructure didn¡¯t look damaged.

    ¡°Eh, probably nothing important,¡± said Jason.

    ¡°I really hope that was facetious,¡± said Roger. ¡°That being said, it doesn¡¯t directly affect us.¡±

    ¡°Should we evacuate anyway?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°Better safe than sorry, and there¡¯s a RAYS nearby.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t help,¡± Sue said. ¡°Those aren¡¯t rated to stop explosions. It¡¯s in the acronym.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather actively solve problems,¡± Bright said. ¡°For example ¡­¡±

    She walked over to Blank¡¯s lock and made a sequence of deft motions, and the lock clicked open.

    ¡°I had that,¡± Blank said. The door swung open, revealing yet another classroom, this one with two people in it.

    One was a man in a neat business suit; on the lapel was a Chypros pin. He was big, taller even than Roger and significantly more muscular, with dark hair and sunglasses. He had a telescoping chainsaw in the small of his back, but right now he carried a digital tablet. He looked at them with surprise.

    The other was a woman, also in a Chypros business suit, hers fitting very well. She looked very tall, but most of it was her generous heels. It worked well with her lean physique. Her hair was platinum blonde, slicked back with gel that revealed a long stretch of her temple. She had a smart phone in one hand, and a sidearm in a holster. Her blue eyes skated past Roger to Bright.

    ¡°Michelle,¡± she said, with a smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes.

    ¡°Mother,¡± the younger Bright replied, in the polite tone of someone who would prefer to be swearing. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you. Here.¡±

    ¡°Mister Truman,¡± Roger said stiffly to the larger man.

    Truman smiled and nodded. He didn¡¯t have the most appealing smile, but at least it looked sincere. ¡°Roger. You look well.¡±

    ¡°A friend of yours?¡± Michelle asked.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Roger said.

    ¡°We met under ¡­ trying circumstances,¡± said Truman. ¡°Things look better now, though.¡±

    Sue noticed that Charlotte had darted behind the wall and out of Truman¡¯s and Mother Bright¡¯s line of sight, but she carefully didn¡¯t turn to look and give her away.

    ¡°Of course I came here, darling,¡± Mother Bright said. ¡°I came across a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I need a student to help me.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Michelle repeated. She had excellent composure, but Roger still had the distinct impression that she was not happy and rapidly getting more annoyed as the conversation continued. ¡°Unfortunately, we¡¯re all busy with our study, but I¡¯m sure you can find someone else to do what you want. This is a school, after all.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t use just anyone, Michelle. It needs to be someone special. Someone with the right set of talents. Aren¡¯t you interested? It could be an excellent beginning to your career.¡±

    ¡°No, Mother,¡± Michelle said rigidly, ¡°I¡¯m not, because I think it¡¯s likelier to be an excellent day in the life of your career. And like I said, we¡¯re busy here.¡±

    Roger looked Mother Bright over. Her sidearm didn¡¯t look standard-issue: he could see circuitry along one side, fuel cells and capacitors.

    ¡°You¡¯re being unreasonable, darling. You didn¡¯t even listen to what the opportunity is. It could be an incredible benefit to us both.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it could be,¡± Michelle said, ¡°but I told you, I¡¯m already busy.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to look for ways to make things easier. With this, we¡¯ll be able to write our own ticket. Imagine what you could do with the cloner.¡±

    ¡°One thing that I couldn¡¯t do would be to find the Keycard,¡± Michelle said. ¡°I assume this cloner needs the original to make a clone.¡±

    ¡°With something like that, you don¡¯t need a Keycard. Don¡¯t you see how valuable it would be? With it, it¡¯ll be no problem to go wherever you like.¡±

    ¡°Er,¡± Jason said, raising a hand. ¡°I hate to interrupt when you¡¯re having fun, but what exactly are you asking for? Why do you need a student to make something like that? Doesn¡¯t Chypros have its own researchers?¡±

    ¡°The cloner¡¯s already complete,¡± said Mother Bright. ¡°It was a project for a science fair two years ago, part of the same research that led to our deinonycops.¡±

    ¡°Well done with those,¡± Michelle undertoned.

    ¡°Watch it, young lady. The cloner¡¯s currently locked inside the science wing. This isn¡¯t just a school, you know, it¡¯s so much more than that. Eric and I¡± she indicated Mister Truman ¡°know the way, but only a student is allowed to solve the problems and gain access. Anything else is counted as cheating and triggers deinonycop intervention.¡±

    ¡°Since those are part of the same organisation you work for,¡± said Michelle, ¡°this sounds like something you should be able to deal with on your own. But of course you can¡¯t,¡± she continued, ¡°you wouldn¡¯t be here right now asking for help if you didn¡¯t have to be.¡±

    Roger looked from mother to daughter. He was sure he was missing context. He was also sure that it wasn¡¯t a good idea to antagonise an unknown quantity who was carrying a gun.

    ¡°Well, too bad,¡± Michelle went on. ¡°This is your problem, not mine, and I¡¯m already tapped out studying at the school that you enrolled me in.¡±

    ¡°Forget that,¡± her mother said impatiently. ¡°Don¡¯t you see how much bigger this is?¡±

    ¡°Er,¡± Jason said again. ¡°What if I find it for you?¡±

    Everyone turned to look at him.

    ¡°Some of these problems are very difficult,¡± said Mother Bright, ¡°and we¡¯re not allowed to give you the solutions.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m as good at the sciences as Bright is,¡± he said, ¡°when I try.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Sue asked him. ¡°A cloner is just about the most useful thing imaginable that won¡¯t be useful for what we¡¯re trying to do.¡±

    He shrugged complacently. ¡°Like they both said, we have ideas other than finding the Keycard. Worst-case scenario, I waste a whole lot more of my life than I already have, but best-case, I get a big head start on our plan B. It¡¯s worth a try.¡±

    She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. ¡°I want to keep trying here, but good luck. Hurry back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll waddle as fast as I can,¡± he promised. ¡°Be seeing you,¡± he said to the others. He walked through the doorway to join Mother Bright and Truman, and followed them as they turned and left.

 School 6

    Roger looked his students over while they worked on their assignments. People think of teaching as reciting information, but to his mind, it was a detailed task of psychology, bordering on abstract economics. No teacher could force a student to study, so a good teacher had to be aware of what environment and incentives his students needed to establish enough of a rapport to be willing to learn.

    They¡¯d found another classroom full of locked doors and split up to work on them. Charlotte had one with sliding hexagons, occasionally sneaking looks around the room at the other people, meeting his eye and exchanging little smiles. She was straightforward enough, if only because he knew her best. She was sensitive but bighearted and hardworking; if she was around supportive people, she¡¯d thrive, regardless of whether she had to lean on them or they leaned on her. It looked like she had found that in Sue. Hopefully Jason would help, although Roger would have to watch out for tension: after all, it was a three-person clique with mixed genders.

    Sue had the next door, and seemed fully absorbed in it. He had the impression that she was competitive and liked to show off, but she didn¡¯t seem to have much respect or self-esteem. She was the sort of girl who defined herself and her value by her grades. She and Charlotte should dovetail nicely if he paired them off for a group assignment, possibly with Jason, depending on how that dynamic played out. He made a mental note to try to think up some way to let them work together without spawning more raptors.

    The other two girls were more enigmatic. Blank seemed to be having trouble; she¡¯d mentioned that she was better with humanities than the sciences. She¡¯d talked a bit, but he had the feeling she¡¯d been skating around what she was actually thinking. She didn¡¯t trust him enough to open up, and he wasn¡¯t sure she did with anyone. He¡¯d have to show her that he had her best interests at heart.

    All of them were smart, but Bright in particular lived up to her name, and not just academically. Just from their first few minutes together, she was extremely perceptive about other people¡¯s relationships; but she approached it in an adversarial way, like a poker player trying to read an opponent¡¯s cards without giving any tells of her own. He wanted to ask about her mother: it was the first chink he¡¯d seen in her armour.

    ¡°Got it,¡± she said, unlocking her door. Sue mouthed a swear word. Looked like he was right about her being competitive.

    Instead of yet another classroom, the door opened to an elevator, one with cattle grid flooring and what looked like a bottomless pit below. Bright looked in, her expression still unreadable.

    ¡°I should keep going,¡± she said, ¡°but I¡¯m not quite sure where this goes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s in the basement, but I bet there¡¯s a university if you go up,¡± Sue offered. ¡°After all, there has to be a reason why they call it the higher education sector.¡±

    Bright narrowed her eyes but continued without replying. ¡°I assume it¡¯s a different department, or at least a different kind of maths. I¡¯m sure I can figure it out, whatever it is ¡­¡±

    Roger was impressed: he¡¯d never met anyone who could enunciate an ellipsis. ¡°I should go with you,¡± he said. ¡°It might be something you¡¯re not familiar with, or there might be more raptors. Can you girls keep going without me for a few minutes,or would you rather come with us?¡±

    Bright locked her cool blue eyes with Sue¡¯s hazel-green ones.

    ¡°I hate leaving a problem unsolved,¡± Sue said. ¡°Take your time, there¡¯s plenty more work to do around here.¡±

    Bright turned to Blank.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind me,¡± Blank said.

    Bright turned to Charlotte.

    ¡°Uh, go right ahead,¡± she said. ¡°I think I¡¯m picking this up quickly enough.¡±

    Bright turned to Roger.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said, trying and failing to shake the feeling that he was taking silent orders from the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte. ¡°I¡¯ll come back to tell you what we find there as soon as we¡¯re settled in. Good luck!¡±

    He led Bright into the elevator. On the control panel were buttons labelled ¡®here¡¯, ¡®there¡¯, ¡®<<¡¯, and ¡®>>¡¯. He considered them for a moment before trying ¡®there¡¯.

    The doors slid shut and the elevator lurched downward, the initial jolt staggering them both and making the car sway as it descended. They got their feet and looked down through the cattle grid. There were no lights visible down the shaft, no context for how far down they had gone. The lights in the ceiling of the car only penetrated down a few metres, showing what looked like uncut rock, although it was hard to tell from the reflections.

    ¡°There¡¯s got to be a pun in here somewhere about you making the basement a bit more bright,¡± Roger said.

    ¡°I hate puns,¡± said Bright. ¡°Everyone hates puns. Their only value is in schadenfreude, if someone else hates them more than you do.¡±

    Roger considered this. She wasn¡¯t wrong.

    ¡°So I¡¯d take it as a favour if you called me by my given name,¡± she said. ¡°Michelle.¡±

    ¡°Michelle,¡± Roger repeated. It rolled off his tongue. His mother had a thing for French names too. ¡°Don¡¯t most private school students get offended by that sort of familiarity?¡±

    She tilted her head, equivalent to a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s a throwback to the old European days, when your family was a more important part of who you were than you yourself. But our modern society treats people as individuals, and I am my own person. Aren¡¯t you? Or are you just a part of the Abercrombie clan?¡±

    ¡°Family still matters today,¡± he said. ¡°People should help each other, but it¡¯s hard to trust people you don¡¯t know. It doesn¡¯t stop you from being an individual; it just gives you a free shoulder to lean on.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a great theory,¡± she said. ¡°What would you do if it didn¡¯t work?¡±

    Her voice was neutral, but he was sure she was biting back bitterness. ¡°It doesn¡¯t,¡± he said, ¡°not always. You stick to it for the times when it does work, because they make the rest of it worthwhile. That being said,¡± he grimaced, ¡°life isn¡¯t a Christmas special. Things don¡¯t always work out, and some people don¡¯t behave as well as they ought. If the people around me always let me down when I needed them, I¡¯d find better people.¡±

    She gave him a look that lasted a few seconds too long without a blink. ¡°You know,¡± she said, ¡°in another life, I think I could have hated your sister. Not because of what she¡¯s like, but out of sheer envy. I can be a bad person like that, sometimes. You really care about her, don¡¯t you? It isn¡¯t just some sense of obligation.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s easy to care about. Out of everyone I¡¯ve ever met, she¡¯s the most ¡­ purely good. If she were in the Milgram experiment, I think she¡¯d beg off before giving the first shock.¡±

    The elevator finally came to a stop. The doors opened, and they stepped out into what looked like a storage area. There were piles of cleaning supplies and crates all leaning together, covered with a fine layer of dust. There were fluorescent lights overhead, spread thinly enough that they cast small pools of light over the supplies while leaving most of the room in darkness. The supplies and crates obscured most of the walls, but from what they could see, it was an irregular, open area that made Roger think of a cave, rather than the rectangular designs of most normal human architecture. He and Bright moved out, instinctively staying close together.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say her life is all that enviable, though,¡± he went on. ¡°I look out for her, but I have to. We don¡¯t have much income, or the other things that people don¡¯t think about when they say that money doesn¡¯t matter, like their own home, savings, a support network ¡­¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Michelle shook her head. ¡°I know that I¡¯m the epitome of first-world problems, a spoiled princess, but your perspective is limited too. Humans are social creatures, not financial ones. It¡¯s easier to point out a lack of money, but as long as you have enough to make do, it¡¯s nothing compared to a lack of a shoulder to lean on, as you put it.¡±

    It was the opening he¡¯d been waiting for. ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    She let out a breath and took another in before she replied. ¡°When I was thirteen, I had a problem. The details don¡¯t matter any more. What matters is that when it happened, I wanted help, or at least to be given a shoulder that wasn¡¯t cold. My father was at a business conference ¨C in Geneva, I think ¨C so I asked my mother, but she was working on a case until nine or later every night. When she got back, she brushed me off. She never even heard me out. Even now, she still doesn¡¯t know what happened. I had to deal with it all on my own.¡±

    She was keeping tone and expression impassive,and he couldn¡¯t tellanything about what the problem was or how severe it had been. The fact that she was still resentful about it, years later, suggested that it had been pretty bad; but, equally, it might have been a trivial matter that had only seemed important when she was thirteen, complaining about it now would make her seem petty, and she was only upset that her parents hadn¡¯t paid attention to her when she was down. Either way, she didn¡¯t want to talk about it, and he didn¡¯t actually need to know.

    ¡°Did you deal with it? Are you okay now?¡±

    She wrinkled her nose. ¡°I hate the implication,¡± she said, ¡°that I¡¯m a delicate snowflake who would let one bad day ruin my entire life. It was years ago, and the problem wasn¡¯t cancer.I¡¯m fine now.¡±

    Roger nodded. ¡°You do seem pretty tough. Resilient.¡±

    ¡°I pride myself on it,¡± she said drily. ¡°The only reason I bring this up at all is that I know the same thing could happen again tomorrow, and she still wouldn¡¯t listen.¡±

    ¡°What about your friends?¡± This might be a sore spot if they had let her down too, but she needed to vent properly and her pride needed him to keep prompting her. ¡°Would they help?¡±

    ¡°Today, yes, but not back then. Like you said, it¡¯s hard to trust people you don¡¯t really know. I¡¯d only just started at Aquinas, and I didn¡¯t know anyone well enough. Except my cats, but they¡¯re cats. They aren¡¯t known for their sympathy.¡± She gave him another piercing look. ¡°You, though. I don¡¯t think you¡¯d ever do that to your sister. Even if you were busy, and had something important for your career coming up, you wouldn¡¯t say that you didn¡¯t have the time or energy, you¡¯d make the time and energy for her, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Well. I mean, of course I would, but it sounds like boasting to say it in so many words.¡±

    ¡°And in turn, she loves you,¡± Michelle said. ¡°I think¡± she took a breath ¡°that I¡¯d like it if you loved me, too.¡±

    ¡°,¡± said Roger. Out of all the places a girl could have told him she liked him, he hadn¡¯t expected it to be in this janitorial basement-cave place. ¡°Michelle, you¡¯re one of my students.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a primary school and I¡¯m not a child,¡± she said haughtily. ¡°You can¡¯t be more than a couple of years older than me. Besides, I¡¯m mature for my age, more than most adults are.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lower bar than you think it is,¡± he said, ¡°but I¡¯m actually thinking about the specific rules against fraternisation. I¡¯ve had run-ins with the law before. It¡¯s a long story, but it almost ended ¡­ really badly, one time. I can¡¯t risk that happening again.¡±

    She shrugged and smoothed her skirt, drawing his eyes down. ¡°If it bothers you, we can wait before going too far. I just ¡­ I want someone who¡¯ll look at me like you look at her.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t look at her incestuously.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to look at me incestuously either,¡± Michelle said with a touch of irritation. ¡°I¡¯m not asking for a purely physical thing, and I don¡¯t think you think I am, or that you would want that either.¡± He said nothing. ¡°Is this a no? If it¡¯s a no, say it outright. Don¡¯t just refuse to respond.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a no,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±

    ¡°Are you just bothered by a girl taking the initiative like this?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he replied. ¡°I hate to brag, but this isn¡¯t the first time a girl¡¯s confessed to me, believe it or not.¡±

    She raised her eyebrows. ¡°Of course I believe it: I¡¯m doing it right now, and I have good taste in everything. A lot of your appeal is that you¡¯re a responsible person. My best friend is a boy my age, but I wouldn¡¯t date him for two reasons, one of which is that he doesn¡¯t have the maturity to take proper care of a girlfriend. That¡¯s part of why girls like older boys.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t like boys who don¡¯t say anything, though,¡± she said shortly. ¡°Say yes or say no, don¡¯t just act like I¡¯m not here.¡±

    ¡°Give me a minute to think how to put it,¡± he said.

    He looked around. He was paying attention to his surroundings while they spoke, but he still didn¡¯t understand it. Solving classwork shouldn¡¯t let students into a supply area.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re a pretty cool person, Michelle,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d like to spend more time with you.¡±

    ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re asking for a commitment,¡± he said, ¡°and one has to be reliable to make those. I¡¯m not, I¡¯m only responsible. Those are only the same thing for people who have their lives together. I can¡¯t promise anything to anyone.¡±

    She frowned. ¡°That sounds like an excuse.¡±

    ¡°Probably because it is one. In a perfect world, I¡¯d say yes, but it ¨C¡±

    ¡°But what?¡± she said. ¡°If you have problems of your own, of course I¡¯d help with them if I could. Do you think I¡¯d ask for more than I was willing to give back?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re asking for romance. I know better than anyone that even good people aren¡¯t always fair when emotions are involved.¡±

    She gave him a deeply unimpressed look. ¡°If you had said you weren¡¯t interested, that would be one thing,¡± she said. ¡°The fact that you tried to rationalise it ¨C¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a rationalisation. I meant it when I said you were cool and I¡¯d like to spend more time with you. And if you¡¯d asked me out when my life was on less of a knife-edge than it is right now, I¡¯d have said yes. I value your good opinion.¡±

    ¡°In my opinion, self-honesty is even more important than maturity,¡± she said. ¡°Being proactive is the highest virtue, because every other good quality is worthless if you don¡¯t use it, but anyone can act when they really want to. The difference is when people lie to themselves, because then they invent reasons why they shouldn¡¯t even try.

    ¡°Like you did, just now,¡± she went on coldly. ¡°If you¡¯d said you just didn¡¯t want to, I would have accepted it. But you invented reasons why you shouldn¡¯t. It means you¡¯re the sort of person who doesn¡¯t try. It¡¯s ¡­¡± She paused to find the right word. ¡°¡­ Disappointing.¡±

    That stung. ¡°Michelle, I don¡¯t ¨C¡±

    ¡°Leave me alone!¡± Her voice cracked on the last word, and she spun away.

    Her foot snagged on a mop, but her centre of gravity kept going forward; she grabbed at air before crashing to the floor, pulling the mop and a jumble of crates on top of herself. Roger reflexively skipped backward out of the way of the falling junk, but then Michelle let out a yelp, and he moved forward and shoved the crates off her.

    ¡°Michelle, are you ¨C¡± He caught himself before he could ask her whether she was okay, all of a second after she¡¯d cried out in pain. ¡°Where does it hurt most?¡±

    ¡°Left shin,¡± she said through gritted teeth.

    He cleared away some space and gently rolled her onto her back. It was hard to see in the bad light, but her leg was already coming up with major bruising. He touched his fingertips to it. ¡°Can you feel this?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and it¡¯s still painful,¡± she said, ¡°so would you stop?¡± She leaned forward to bat his hand away.

    He sat back on his haunches. She¡¯d also skinned her hands, but he was more worried that it could be a fracture. He didn¡¯t know enough first aid to be able to tell by sight alone, and if he touched it, he¡¯d hurt her and possibly make the injury worse. ¡°We¡¯d better get you to the nurse¡¯s office. Do you know where it is?¡±

    ¡°Behind thirty doors of English lit essays,¡± she said tightly.

    He thought. ¡°The RAYS should have first aid supplies,¡± he said. ¡°Can you stand, if I help you up, and walk if you lean on me?¡±

    ¡°Not with how much taller you are. I¡¯d sooner crawl.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, talking more to give himself time to think, ¡°because there¡¯s any chance at all I¡¯m going to just stand around for ten minutes while an injured girl I¡¯m supposed to be taking care of crawls across a floor that¡¯s barely even lit.¡±

    ¡°Fine, then go fetch the first aid kit and bring it back here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s even better, don¡¯t stay with her during that. Hey, do your spine or neck hurt at all?¡±

    ¡°Just my leg,¡± she said sulkily, then, as if to make up for being helpful, ¡°why?¡±

    ¡°It means I can do this.¡± He put one arm under her knees and one behind her back and stood, scooping her up, careful not to put any pressure on her shin.

    She squeaked and threw her arms around him for balance, then smoothed down her skirt again. Roger tried not to grin: there was something indescribably cute about a noise that high-pitched coming from someone as regal as Michelle.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count,¡± she said, turning pink and glaring. ¡°You startled me.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯d asked, you would have said no,¡± he explained, making for the elevator. She was heavier than he¡¯d expected, but he could manage for a short while.

    ¡°And we can¡¯t have that.¡±

    ¡°It would be spending time on something other than getting you medical care,¡± he said. She fumed. ¡°You get very contrary when you¡¯re stressed, you know that?¡± I¡¯m going to hell for this. ¡°It¡¯s cute.¡±

    She glowered. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have let me keep any dignity at all?¡±

    ¡°If there¡¯s a way to do that and still get you to the RAYS quickly, I guess I¡¯m just not Bright enough to spot it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I did in a past life to deserve this,¡± she said, leaning back in defeat, ¡°but I do know it wasn¡¯t worth it.¡±

 School 7

    ¡°Say, Lottie, who do you have a crush on?¡± Sue asked without any lead-in.

    ¡°Ack?¡± said Charlotte. Her cheeks turned a pink bright enough to match her shirt, and she turned away from her puzzle, flustered. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°A boy you like,¡± Sue said casually.

    Charlotte froze, searching for a workable non-answer. ¡°Out of the two boys I¡¯ve seen here, I only met one for a few minutes before he went off with a pair of Chypros agents, and the other is my brother. I don¡¯t know which sort of girl you think I am, but I¡¯m neither.¡±

    ¡°Aw, but you¡¯d make such a cute couple. You seemed to get on well.¡±

    ¡°We are, but ¨C stop grinning. He¡¯s my brother.¡±

    Sue only smirked wider. ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was your brother you¡¯d be cute with.¡±

    ¡°You watch too much anime.¡±

    ¡°Heresy.¡±

    Charlotte pouted, then spotted an opening. ¡°I suppose that makes me a bit of an iconiiclast,¡± she said. She mentally high-fived herself: she¡¯d finally made a pun!

    Both girls tried very hard to keep straight faces. Blank glanced over, curious about why they¡¯d momentarily stopped bantering.

    Charlotte blinked first. ¡°Well, who¡¯s your crush, then?¡±

    ¡°I have one on everyone,¡± Sue said candidly. ¡°Most of my classmates are cute or have something else going for them, and it¡¯s not like you can only have one. Speaking of which, is your brother single?¡±

    ¡°Why does everyone always ask that,¡± Charlotte muttered.

    ¡°Because he¡¯s ¨C¡±

    ¡°Please never answer that question. Um, yes, he is, but I don¡¯t think he¡¯d ever agree to date one of his students. And, uh, isn¡¯t he a bit old for someone our age? He¡¯s said so before.¡± She paused and reran that through her mind. ¡°He wasn¡¯t saying it about me specifically.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. I can¡¯t wait to see Bright¡¯s face when they get back, then.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like a wildly inappropriate age gap ever stopped anyone before,¡± Sue said instead of answering the question. ¡°There was one time when I was eleven, and I tried to flirt with one of my brothers¡¯ friends, who was at least twenty, the operative word being ¡®tried¡¯. They stopped bringing friends back to our house after that. I was annoyed at the time, but in hindsight, it was the best possible outcome.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t help but be reminded of price anchoring, you know, where a salesman opens with a ridiculously overpriced offer, then switches to a normally overpriced one so that it¡¯ll seem reasonable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m mostly just daydreaming out loud. I¡¯m sure he has brighter things on his horizon anyway. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Charlotte said with composure. ¡°I don¡¯t really mind you thinking about that, and I won¡¯t be upset or anything if you ask him, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯d go anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Hey, Blank,¡± Sue called, ¡°what about you? You¡¯re breaking the Code if you listen to two girls gossiping about excruciatingly awkward pre-adolescent crushes without volunteering any yourself.¡±

    ¡°Welp,¡± Blank said, stepping back from her puzzle. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, but on the other hand, I hate maths, I haven¡¯t made any headway on this at all, and I¡¯d sooner chainsaw out my own eyes than gush about boys, so I¡¯m going to have to take a few Girl Card demerit points, because I¡¯m going for a walk.¡±

    ¡°Out of every possible power tool,¡± Charlotte said, ¡°a chainsaw might be the one I¡¯d least like to do eye surgery on myself with.¡±

    ¡°Words to live by,¡± said Blank, and she headed out the door they¡¯d come in by.

    Sue sniffed at her armpit.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Charlotte asked.

    ¡°We¡¯ve split the party into, like, five groups,¡± Sue said, counting them off on her fingers. ¡°Her, us, your brother and Bright, your mum and Mr Robards, and Jase and the Chypros pair.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget Jill,¡± Charlotte said. She thought about the explosion at the Chypros tower. ¡°I hope she¡¯s okay. I can¡¯t smell anything, but I have some perfume in my bag, if you want?¡±

    ¡°I was joking, I showered like half an hour ago.¡±

    Charlotte paused. Lots of people hide their insecurities behind self-deprecating humour. Sue had made a serious effort to talk to her, but not with anyone else; Charlotte didn¡¯t think she¡¯d done anything especial to deserve so much attention, which suggested that Sue probably had tried to socialise with the others in the past, but it hadn¡¯t worked.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°What¡¯s your favourite thing about Jason?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Jason?¡± Sue repeated, nonplussed at the non sequitur.

    It was only now that Charlotte realised how abrupt her question had been. She blushed, but pressed on. ¡°You seemed to like him.¡±

    Sue gave her an unconvinced look, but then she shrugged and thought it over anyway.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if this is the right word for it,¡± she said, ¡°but his self-acceptance. He is what he is and doesn¡¯t apologise for it. He was the one who got me onto anime, for example. He was the only person in the class who liked these weird Japanese cartoons. Especially when you¡¯re younger, it¡¯s easier to go with the flow and pretend to like the same things everyone else does, but he never did. I think the world would be a better place if more people were like that.¡±

    Charlotte nodded.

    ¡°One sort of related thing that I really respect,¡± Sue continued, encouraged, ¡°is that he owns it when he screws up. You know how the world is full of people who, when you tell them off for something, immediately start saying that no, they did the right thing and you just aren¡¯t seeing the big picture; or maybe that they¡¯re doing as well as anyone could, and you just have unreasonable expectations?¡± Charlotte nodded again. ¡°Everyone screws up, and Jason¡¯s no exception, but when I tell him off for it, he doesn¡¯t pretend he¡¯s in the right. He says, ¡®Oh, whoops, sorry; I¡¯ll try not to that again.¡¯ Not that he¡¯s a pushover, or that he necessarily doesn¡¯t do it again, but he doesn¡¯t have that compulsive urge to defend himself when he¡¯s done something indefensible.¡±

    ¡°You think he¡¯s honest?¡± Charlotte suggested.

    ¡°That might be it,¡± Sue said. ¡°He¡¯s a hilariously bad liar, you should see it. But the other thing I wanted to say is that he accepts everyone else in the same way. It¡¯s not that he likes everyone, or even all that many people, but he doesn¡¯t expect you to apologise for what you are, either. For example, he¡¯s really into electronic music remixing. This one time he showed me some of his work, but electronica really isn¡¯t my taste. You know how there¡¯s a lot of people who get offended when you say you don¡¯t like the same things they do, even though they shouldn¡¯t because that¡¯s totally not an insult? With him, it isn¡¯t. He asked what music I do like, we compromised with some lovely Ludwig van, and that was that.¡±

    Outside, Blank let out a silent sigh, her foot twitching. She hesitated for a moment longer, then set off in the direction Mother Bright, Mr Truman, and Jason had gone.

    Their path was obvious, marked by unlocked doors, each with a dead raptor. Probably it counted as cheating for every door the two adults opened, since they weren¡¯t students or teachers. She glanced at the raptor corpses as she passed, without much interest. Heavy chainsaw damage to most. Mother Bright looked overrated, but Mister Truman could be interesting.

    Her long legs leant themselves to a quick lope, and it didn¡¯t take her long to hear the babble of voices ahead. She slowed down to a stealthy pad so she could eavesdrop.

    ¡°You said that this was more than just a school,¡± Jason was saying. ¡°Is it also a Chypros R&D facility?¡±

    Blank rounded a corner, and the three of them came into view. Truman was in the lead, followed by Jason and Mother Bright. They didn¡¯t notice her.

    Mother Bright shook her head, despite being behind Jason. ¡°This belongs to a rival organisation, but that just means it¡¯s working toward the same ends on someone else¡¯s payroll. Their ultimate goals are more or less the same as Chypros¡¯s, although they¡¯re targeting other individuals, usually richer ones than we do. This is a bona fide research lab, though.¡±

    ¡°What are your ultimate goals?¡± he asked. ¡°As far as I can tell, you¡¯re one of those vague semi-government conspiracies that just sort of mess with people for no reason.¡±

    Mother Bright gave a sharp exhalation through her nose that managed to convey deep contempt. ¡°That just shows what you know. In any case, that¡¯s a childish take on it. Organisations don¡¯t have goals. They might have a charter, but there¡¯s no guarantee that the people who belong to the organisation care about that at all. Chypros ¡­ well, its purpose is in its name. As for me, I want to help my family by working on my career.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a good strategy,¡± Jason lied, keeping his voice sincere. He remembered the barely-restrained hostility Michelle had shown to her mother, and wondered how she could possibly think things would turn out well by keeping on her current path. ¡°So why a lab in a school? If I were a real scientist, I wouldn¡¯t want kids anywhere near my experiments.¡±

    He was mostly thinking of Bright as he said that. She was a lovely person, provided she always got her way with everything, but he wouldn¡¯t want to have anything delicate running nearby in case anyone ever tried to stand up to her.

    ¡°It¡¯s all about the difference between childhood and adulthood,¡± Mother Bright said, with maybe a note of wistfulness in her voice. ¡°People depend on adults. Adults have obligations, and the understanding that their actions have consequences. It affects what you can say, do, who you can love ¡­ Children don¡¯t have that. You can do anything you like, and forget about it a day later. It keeps your minds free. You have ideas that adults can¡¯t. It makes for good inventors.¡±

    When he had first come to Aquinas, Jason had mentioned aloud that he liked anime. It turned out that talking about weird foreign cartoons, even if some were in his informed opinion very well-made, was not a foundation for universal popularity. He was aware of the consequences of that more than a day later. ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°Of course, there¡¯s more to it,¡± she went on, clearly not listening. ¡°Inventions have consequences too, so adults need to be involved at some point, if only to monetise it properly. People who say that money doesn¡¯t matter aren¡¯t the ones who have obligations.¡±

    She came to a final door, which had been cut apart by a chainsaw. Inside was a cross between an amphitheatre and a lab. They were in an open area, ringed with benches laden with partially dissected frogs and lizards; conical and volumetric flasks, some filled with food dye and set atop Bunsen burners; and a sparking Van de Graaff generator, which was ominous because it was quite near an open bottle of acetone. Spotlights lit it from above. To one side of the circle of benches was a pile of dead raptors. Around all of this were ascending rows of seats, as if for spectators.

    ¡°This is it,¡± Mother Bright said. ¡°You have to solve the three puzzles here by yourself. If we give you any hints, it¡¯ll trigger another raptor flood, and the puzzles will reset before we can kill them all. Show us what you can do.¡±

    She and Mister Truman climbed up to the stands, leaving Jason alone with the science equipment. He shrugged and went over to the bottle of acetone.

    ¡°Might want to start with this,¡± he said to himself, stoppering the bottle before it could explode.

 School final

    A pile of electronic components was scattered around the bench, some wired together with alligator clips. An LED screen sat in the middle, showing a stylised display of a lock. Jason spent a minute looking it all over and figuring out how the circuit was supposed to fit together, then removed four clips and reattached them, one to the ball of the generator and one to its base. The screen flashed to show the lock popping, and he gave a nod of satisfaction and moved on to the chemistry bench.

    ¡°Nice work,¡± Mister Truman said.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Jason. ¡°You know, that¡¯s just about the first time a new acquaintance has said that instead of asking whether I¡¯m on the autism spectrum. That, or to stop telling puns.¡±

    Mister Truman hesitated. ¡°Uhm. Does that bother you?¡±

    ¡°It does make me feel a bit put-upun, yeah.¡±

    ¡°I meant the autism thing.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Jason said. ¡°And yeah, because it¡¯s an actual psychiatric term. Like, you know how there are people who don¡¯t like the taste of peanuts? You don¡¯t call them allergic, even though ¨C¡±

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Mister Truman said sharply, looking around.

    ¡°Hear what?¡± said Mother Bright.

    They went still for a moment. Silence.

    ¡°I thought it might have been a raptor,¡± he said. ¡°Never mind. You were saying?¡±

    ¡°I was saying that both allergic people and people who just don¡¯t like the flavour avoid peanuts, but you don¡¯t say the latter are allergic, because it¡¯s a technical term to do with autoimmune reactions. There¡¯s a hard difference there. I happen to have an autistic cousin; he spent most of his childhood screaming at the wall for no reason. This is also a hard difference, and it¡¯s a feature I don¡¯t have.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re obviously not like that,¡± Mister Truman said, ¡°but it¡¯s a spectrum.¡±

    ¡°If you said I was on the obesity spectrum, I¡¯d say that was fair enough,¡± Jason said, ¡°because I¡¯m not obese, but I am a bit overweight. Fatness is a spectrum, and obesity is just some arbitrary cutoff point on it. But I don¡¯t ¡®a bit¡¯ scream at the wall all day for no reason. It¡¯s kind of counterproductive if most of the world thinks that people like my cousin just have a severe case of being good at science.¡±

    As he spoke, he mixed two flasks of coloured liquid together in a precise ratio and swirled them, until it turned clear. He poured the mixture into a beaker wired up to a pH machine that was in turn wired to another LED screen with a lock, which flashed open.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly what¡¯s wrong with my cousin¡¯s brain. But it obviously isn¡¯t just that he¡¯s slightly further along the screaminess spectrum. It¡¯s not like this is a ghost story.¡±

    ¡°What do ghosts have to do with anything?¡± Mister Truman asked, frowning.

    ¡°In ghost stories, screaming is spectral,¡± Jason said, pleased with himself. Truman facepalmed.

    ¡°Please stop,¡± said Mother Bright, her hand twitching for her raygun.

    ¡°All I wanted,¡± he said, moving over to the biology table.

    He wrinkled his nose: living in a city does not prepare one for a tableful of reptile guts. There was a row of scalpels; he ignored them, of course, and pulled out his chainsaw. He considered going through the frogs and raptor, but instead just chopped the third LED screen in half. It sparked, and the two parts showed the lock popping.

    ¡°Huh, wasn¡¯t sure it¡¯d accept that.¡±

    ¡°Biology¡¯s a stupid subject,¡± Mister Truman said.

    There came a series of whirrs and clunks, and a large square area of floor opened up. From the hole rose the cloner. It was shaped like squatter version of a wireframe cube, divided into four sections, with girders along the frame¡¯s edges and black-and-yellow hazard tape demarcating each section. In one quadrant was a collection of boxy grey machinery bolted together, studded with blinking diodes, looking something like an old-fashioned mainframe. The other three quadrants were open spaces.

    ¡°How do you use this?¡± Jason asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think these lights even do anything, they¡¯re just hooked up to an RNG to make it look sciencier.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t use it at all,¡± Mother Bright said, and she pulled out her raygun and shot him.

    He was quicker than people gave him credit for, and she¡¯d wasted a moment giving a one-liner before firing; he dropped to the floor and rolled behind the counter, and the raygun¡¯s incandescent white energy beam went high and sparked against the cloner, spot-melting a hole through it that let off electrical arcs.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯re you doing?!¡± Mister Truth exclaimed, flicking out his chainsaw and kicking the ignition.

    Mother Bright turned and blasted him through the chest.

    ¡°This is how these things work,¡± she said, turning back to the counter Jason was hiding behind. She began circling the amphitheatre, training her gun down at the science area, looking for a line where the benches wouldn¡¯t obstruct her shot. ¡°I¡¯d thought you understood that. That¡¯s the problem with working with an idealist.¡±

    Jason scrunched his eyes shut and focused on keeping his breathing regular. His asthma, normally only a minor problem, had chosen the worst possible time to play up. He wasn¡¯t exactly surprised that the ambitious, heavily-armed woman with relationship issues was so violent, but actually experiencing it was very different from merely considering the possibility. Without consciously thinking about it, his hand went to his chainsaw, but he wouldn¡¯t be able to get close enough while she stayed in the stands with rows of chairs between them. He was more inclined to run for it, but that would give her a very easy shot at his back. Either way, he needed a distraction.

    ¡°Pr-pretty cold,¡± he called, then, not wanting to let her dwell on how his voice had trembled, ¡°I can see why Michelle doesn¡¯t trust you.¡±

    The act of talking forced him to not freeze. It struck him that the raygun could probably punch straight through the counter, so he scooted along, but she either didn¡¯t think of it or chose not to.

    ¡°Leave my daughter out of this!¡±

    He could vaguely tell she was moving around by her voice, and he crawled along to keep the counters between them. It wasn¡¯t a long-term strategy; there were gaps between the counters, and sooner or later she¡¯d get a bead on him. He had to keep her distracted while he thought of a plan.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°What, like you did? Or does she hate you so much because she knows you¡¯re a murderer?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t shut her out,¡± Mother Bright said. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly have any idea how hard it is, trying to raise two kids, deal with a dead marriage, and keep up one of the highest-pressure careers ever, when the worst you¡¯ve ever had to deal with was failing a test.¡±

    ¡°You really want to know the worst I¡¯ve ever had to deal with? Knowing that the people who gave me life couldn¡¯t be bothered doing the job properly. That was your choice to marry whoever that was, to have Michelle and whoever the other one is, and take that career. If you bit off more than you can chew ¨C¡±

    A streak of burning white energy lanced through the bench directly over his head and into and through the floor, revealing a glimpse of the room below, which seemed to be a crayon and circle-drawing compass store room. Jason froze a moment, then scooted over.

    ¡°What if I did? You literally aren¡¯t old enough to imagine a decision that will decide the next twenty years of your life. And if who or what you picked turns out different to what you expected, or you get a daughter who doesn¡¯t exactly make things easy, you don¡¯t get to start over.¡±

    ¡°So you try to help them, but it¡¯s just so hard?¡± he asked, as condescendingly as he could.

    ¡°I do my best!¡±

    At her words, a siren went off. Trapdoors opened in the ceiling, and raptors dropped in. They had barely landed before Mother Bright was blasting through them.

    There came the roar of a chainsaw coming to life, and a thump of something heavy hitting the floor. Jason hesitated. It could be an opening, or a trick.

    ¡°Sorry I took so long, Fisher.¡±

    ¡°Blank?!¡±

    He risked bobbing his head over the lip of the counter. Blank was standing where Mother Bright had been. She was looking down at a chainsaw with an underslung slug thrower, a cloth in hand, methodically wiping the chain clean.

    ¡°The big guy almost spotted me a few times,¡± she said. ¡°I was waiting for an opening. Shame she zapped him, he might have been interesting.¡±

    He had the distinct feeling he was less safe than he had been fifteen seconds ago. ¡°Er. Why did you come here?¡±

    She looked up, showing a spatter of blood on her cheek, and smiled. ¡°Like I said, there¡¯s no way out of here. There never was. This entire world is a dead end. So what are we supposed to do here? Does it even matter? The only difference is who¡¯s the last one standing. So why not focus on that?¡±

    She bent down and took Mother Bright¡¯s raygun. When she straightened, Jason was halfway to the door.

    ¡°Er,¡± he said, then glanced off to one side, ¡°look out!¡±

    She took a step to the side and half turned so as to keep the raygun trained on Jason while she scanned the area he was looking. Another cyborg raptor leapt out and tackled him; he fell backward, brought his legs up in the same motion, and kicked the raptor off, sending it flying, coincidentally into one of the cloner¡¯s three open spaces. There was a flash like that of a camera, and two identical raptors appeared in the other open spaces. They gave confused chirps, then turned to Blank.

    She shot the first raptor; the energy beam overkilled, turned the bottle of acetone on the lab counter into a fireball, and hit another part of the cloner machinery. It flashed rapid-fire, and suddenly the three open spaces were packed to overflowing with raptors. The gun hummed while its capacitors recharged; she stuffed it into her belt and drew her chainsaw.

    Jason was long gone, sprinting out of the room, skidding on the junk underfoot, making his way back to the room where Sue and the others had left him. Sue had the back of her hand to Charlotte¡¯s forehead; Charlotte seemed to be in pain.

    He doubled over, out of breath. ¡°Mother Bright, Blank,¡± he began.

    There came a cheery little ding, and the elevator doors opened, revealing Roger bridal-carrying Michelle. Sue raised her eyebrows; Michelle gave her an insouciant look, like she did this sort of thing all the time.

    ¡°Lottie¡¯s having a migraine,¡± Sue said.

    ¡°Michelle tripped and hurt her leg,¡± Roger said.

    ¡°Mother Bright murdered Truman, Blank chainsawed her in half, and the cloner¡¯s mass-producing raptors,¡± Jason said in between gasps for air.

    Roger stared. That escalated quickly.

    ¡°Rog, I think he¡¯s serious,¡± said Charlotte. She winced and rubbed her temple.

    Jason nodded. Sue looked anxiously from him to Roger.

    Roger wasn¡¯t entirely convinced, but there was stupid, and then there was ignoring the person telling you that a flock of raptors was probably about to attack. Besides, it looked like Charlotte could do with a lie down. ¡°I have to take Michelle to the RAYS anyway. Sue, take the lead. Sis, lean against her.¡±

    They turned and retraced their steps through the classrooms and halls of the deserted school, hurrying without quite breaking into a run, finally reaching the wide room with the French windows and the entrance to the RAYS.

    ¡°You dawdled, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    They turned. Blank had followed them. She was covered in oil, ichor, and blood, and her movements were graceful enough to suggest that none of it was hers. She still held the gunsaw.

    ¡°I guess it must be pretty hard to move fast,¡± she added to Roger, ¡°carrying her.¡±

    ¡°Ngh,¡± Charlotte said, swaying on her feet, before falling to her knees, clutching her head. Sue crouched next to her, taking her pulse.

    Roger glanced back at her, then at Blank. At this range, she was certain to hit at least one of them, and he assumed that the gun had more than one bullet.

    ¡°Wait, let¡¯s talk this through,¡± he said.

    She raised the gunsaw and shot him. Jason froze. Sue stepped away from Charlotte and reached for her chainsaw, and Blank shot her too.

    The French windows shattered into a thousand pieces as Jill crashed through, arms over her eyes and neck. In one flowing motion, she combat-rolled to her feet, pivoted, and swung her dented golf club just as a raptor leapt after her, snapping its jaw and neck.

    ¡°Clever girl,¡± she said.

    She turned and did a double-take, only now seeing everyone who¡¯d been shot, and that Blank was aiming her gunsaw. Jill dropped to the ground, taking cover behind the raptor, and a bullet whistled overhead.

    Roger dashed forward and tackled Blank about the midsection, sending both to the ground. Jill was only a moment later, running forward to kick the gunsaw away. Blank and Roger tussled on the ground; she got on top of him at the same time he got his legs up and kicked away, sending her flying through another window. A moment later, she thudded into the field, two storeys below.

    Jill stuffed her glob club down her bra and offered Roger a hand up. ¡°Sorry I took so long,¡± she said.

    He looked her over. She was a mess: covered in raptor scratches, burns, and soot, and half her shirt had been torn or burnt off, revealing a black tank top beneath. She was breathing hard, clearly at her limit.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, numb.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she said. She picked up the gunsaw and checked the magazine. ¡°I failed again, and we¡¯re out of time, there are too many raptors coming. We¡¯ve got to get your sister to the RAYS.¡±

    He looked around, at Michelle, who¡¯d taken the bullet meant for him, and Sue. He didn¡¯t have to check pulses to know that neither was getting back up. He nodded. He went over to Jason, who said nothing but moved when prodded. They went to Charlotte, took her by either arm, and carried her to the RAYS, only pausing for a moment to read the fine print on the overhead plaque: Raptor And Yandere Shelter.

    Jill came in behind them, kicked the door shut behind, and staggered in. She collapsed against the stone altar. Roger barely noticed, instead looking around, at the pedestals with photos of Charlotte.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a RAYS,¡± he said, setting Charlotte down.

    ¡°No,¡± Jill said. ¡°But the real enemy¡¯s coming here, and if we didn¡¯t come inside, we¡¯d just get picked off out there. It¡¯s the only way to even have a chance of protecting Charlotte.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked. ¡°Who would want to hurt her?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really know,¡± Jill said. She cradled the gunsaw, aimed it at the entrance, then tucked it under what was left of her coat. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to figure it out for a while now, but I can¡¯t do it on my own. All I know is, the enemy¡¯s trying to get Charlotte onto this altar, and I¡¯m doing everything I can to keep her away.¡±

    She helped disarm Blank. That has to count for something. ¡°Praxis,¡± he said. She looked at him, not understanding. ¡°Antonio Praxis. That¡¯s the name of my superhero. I heard someone say the word and thought it sounded cool.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°I won¡¯t let you down.¡±

    He knelt beside Charlotte, who was unconscious by now. ¡°I¡¯d settle for a box of paracetamol. Is there ¨C¡±

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me joining.¡±

    The girl with black hair pushed the RAYS door open, then shut it behind herself with a click, careful not to close it on her gown or wings. She stepped forward, her golden eyes skating past Jason and Jill to Charlotte and Roger.

    ¡°I¡¯m so tired,¡± she said. ¡°I hope ¨C¡±

    Jill took three shots rapid-fire, punching three more holes in her coat. The lead slugs stopped and hovered in thin air, a handspan away from the winged girl¡¯s heart, right lung, and forehead. The girl blinked owlishly and yawned.

    ¡°¨C that the troublesome girl didn¡¯t make it this time,¡± she finished, monotone. ¡°Oh no. A gun, hidden under a shirt. My one weakness.¡±

    Jill got to her feet and revved the saw. ¡°Sooner or later, I¡¯ll figure out something you can¡¯t block.¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± said the girl. She stifled another yawn. ¡°Feel free to give up any time.¡±

    Jill dashed forward, and the bullets turned into chunks of concrete and flew to meet her.