《Outrun Infinity》 CHAPTER ONE: The Endless City In the polluted haze of the Endless City Gondo walked purposefully down the thoroughfare, his head shrouded in a bright blue radiation hood. Through his visor he could see the mutated hordes of workers heading between nightmare shifts in overgrown factory-towns, sprinkled with the occasional bright spot of color signaling another traveler lucky enough to have protective gear. What was life expectancy today? Best not to think about it. Any who dared gaze up would see the towering forms of the sky-blocks connected by countless highways and airways stretching onward into the dizzying atmosphere. When humanity¡¯s ability to expand into the cosmos dried up, they resigned to fill every square inch of the space they were able to access with metal, concrete and plastic until the term ¡°continent¡± lost any meaning. Now all was the Endless City. He noticed the same non-descript figure had followed him over the last few turns. Of course he was being tailed. Gondo was a Caster, a highly trained astral operative capable of traveling through the cosmos using only his mind and a heavy cocktail of space drugs. He slipped into a version of the focus state he used in his experiments and time began to shift. He could sense the movements of the crowd in 4-dimensional space. Where they had been, where they were now, and where they were going. As he weaved in and out of the crowds and traffic, he could feel his tail flowing after him in a similar fashion. Another Caster then. This should be fun. He started to thread the needle more closely, shifting like a wraith amidst the throng. The distracted masses barely noticed his ethereal passing, buried in their cheap holos, most trundling along on auto pilot. Gondo continued until he reached a large overpass bustled with smoking hovering machinery and headed right into an alleyway. He burst quickly down a set of stairs and turned one-eighty, then jumped a barricade on his left and continued down a steep ramp, tucking between a crew of hulking cyborgs stomping through the muck. Then back to a main road. Dammit. The tail was gaining on him. He started to cede ground, letting the follower catch up in small increments, giving him hope. He dodged into one of the monstrous highway stacks and made his jagged way across. This was certain death for anyone without specialized training, and even then, the odds of survival were slim. Gondo¡¯s mission today was too important, he couldn¡¯t jeopardize his plans. He had to take the risk. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. As expected, the shadowy form followed him out into the maddening traffic. Vehicles careened by at speeds so high they wouldn¡¯t even realize if they hit something. Utilizing his heightened senses, he made his way across in a game of high stakes hopscotch. His tail was growing cocky, closing distance amongst the traffic. Gondo pushed the envelope further, at each moment a fraction of a second from certain death. As he reached the edge he probed deeply into his focus and let out a psychic blast. The wave made his pursuer¡¯s path falter for just an instant. ¡°You¡¯re DUST!¡± pulsed through the man¡¯s mind the instant a passing hauler turned him into a meat cloud. Oh well. He picked the wrong team. Gondo relinquished his focus and began a swift run back through the final stages of his trek, periodically scanning for pursuit, until he finally arrived at his destination. He navigated past the first set of blast doors and entered a long code into the keypad against the inner door. The blast doors closed, and he let out a sigh. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± a voice chuckled through the crackling intercom. Steam hissed from the grating below and washed his form in grey heat to remove any contaminants. When it was finished the inner door hissed open and Gondo walked inside. A squad of beefy mercs in high end armor waited for him, armed to the teeth. A large scanning unit descended from above and bathed him in bright beams as he removed his radiation cloak and tossed it in the corner. The closest merc continued scanning and frisking him with a handheld device. Gondo was tall and skinny, even by today¡¯s standards. His midnight black hair was starting to grey from age and exposure. His cunning eyes assessed the sellgun as he was waved through, making sure he was getting what he paid for. The mercs may not know it, but they were on his dime. Finally, he entered the laboratory. The smartest person in the system sat casually in front of a bank of monitors, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Thier bright white lab coat contrasted with their dark skin and short dark hair as they peeked over a pair of green plastic spectacles. Lowell could have had their eyes adapted long ago but preferred a touch of the old school. ¡°I was starting to think you¡¯d chickened out. Glad to see you didn¡¯t forget about us...¡± they joked as they set their mug down and stood, ¡°I trust you didn¡¯t have any tag-alongs?¡± Gondo collapsed into a swivel chair, ¡°I ghosted one. Surprisingly good too, not your average A.E.C. goon. Shame.¡± ¡°Those geeked out slave-Casters couldn¡¯t track their way out of a paper bag,¡± Lowell said, ¡°Must¡¯ve been independent.¡± A large metal frame coasted silently into the room. It was Lowell¡¯s assistant Ignasius. Long ago he had been a bouncer bot at one of the seedy gambling dens in the lower levels. When he was replaced by newer tech, Lowell bought him at auction. Now he was brimming with top-of-the-line custom parts, working on innovative projects. His gratitude to Lowell formed a special bond between the two. A dim orange light pulsed in the center of his body as he spoke in a deep baritone, ¡°Hello Mr. Gondo. Ready for a pleasant afternoon of amicable conversation and voyages beyond the speed of light?¡± CHAPTER TWO: The Cognitive Crown Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. CHAPTER THREE: Cast Yourself Out Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. CHAPTER FOUR: The Moonshield The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. CHAPTER FIVE: A New Reality Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. CHAPTER SIX: The Soft Watch You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. CHAPTER SEVEN: Ourobouros Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. CHAPTER EIGHT: Contact This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. CHAPTER NINE:: Combat Mode A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. CHAPTER TEN: Psionic Titan As Gondo jetted into the smoke propelled by sheer psionic energy he consulted the diagram that was live updating in his holo. Ignasius drones were scanning through the smoke while bullying the target with auto-fire. He could see the brutish form of the mech suit as it returned fire and motored towards Gondo¡¯s position inside the smoke cloud. Gondo entered his focus and began to project several images of himself and Ignasius encircling the soldier. He was able to give them just enough phantasmal force to pick up on the mech¡¯s radar. The suit began to spin and unleash its cannons into the replicas. A cheap trick, but it bought Gondo enough time to leap upwards and out of the smoke. When engulfed in his focus Gondo could perform hyper actions that used to be relegated to the worlds of fantasy. He could run at extreme speeds, vault himself into the air, and even fly. Performing any of these feats was a telltale giveaway that an individual was a Caster, so they were normally for emergencies only. Obviously, this qualified. He surveyed the scene from his aerial position. Four of the remaining drones were orbiting the mech soldier and distracting him from above while the specters below soaked up cannon fire. He chuckled to himself as he reached the crest of his jump and momentarily paused, then focused all his energy downwards. A corona of blue energy appeared and began to spread backwards from his head towards the sky. He became a psionic powered rocket that barreled through the smoke cloud and then through the mech suit itself. With the time dilation allowed him by his focus he could see the psychic energy peeling back layers of the man¡¯s body and instantly vaporizing them. It was like viewing an MRI slide by slide from the top of the man¡¯s suit all the way through him. Welcome to the meat show. Once his body had melted through the remains of the soldier, he impacted the concrete and continued inward. He reduced his flow and as the smoke cleared found himself lying in a crater laughing to himself. Well, that was a new one. He climbed out and looked to where Moriah had been engaged with the rival Caster. A large stain where he had been perched on the fire escape spread backwards across the buildings side, and Moriah was nowhere to be seen. Ignasius arrived looking battered but functional. ¡°You prime?¡± Gondo asked. ¡°Affirmative. Sounds like the party crashers are finally on their way.¡± Ignasius hinted at the distant sound of approaching sirens. The goon squad had no doubt paid them off to be elsewhere while the attempted hit was carried out. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Ignasius sent him a code via internal comms that meant rendezvous at the Safe House. He sent the same message to Lowell who instantly responded that they were already there. Gondo nodded to his friend, pulled down the hood of his radiation cloak, and disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway as the battle worn robot ascended into the sky via the rockets in his undercarriage and was gone into the golden haze. ... Hours later at the lab the crew sat around their meeting table discussing the recent events. Ignasius was represented by a floating red orb. Immediately upon returning to the lab the robot had retreated into his workshop. ¡°He said something about how Cobra used scissors to cut up his pizza and then vanished.¡± Lowell had told him. No doubt after the engagement his friend was working on upgrades. He always did this after a fight. Fortunately, with the vast memory banks and computing power the robot had at his disposal he could do two things at once. Or several billion, if need arose. The red orb pulsed subtly along with Ignasius words. ¡°They must have been surprised by our presence there. Unless that was just a warning there¡¯s no way they would send such a small team after the three of us.¡± Loud banging, sawing and welding could be heard through the sound dampening walls that comprised his workshop and warehouse facilities. ¡°Indeed.¡± Lowell responded distractedly. ¡°Krueger would have sent a battalion if he had known Gondo was present.¡± Krueger had been a classmate of Gondo¡¯s at the Academy and was now head of what amounted to the A.E.C.¡¯s military department. He harbored a nasty grudge with Gondo and his team by proxy, and wouldn¡¯t waste a chance to destroy them. It was highly rumored that he and his cabal were the real leaders of the corporation. ¡°Right.¡± Gondo added. ¡°So, we must assume that Moriah was the sole target, we just got in the way. Lucky for us she can handle herself quite well.¡± A subtle smile lit Lowell¡¯s face. Gondo had seen that same smile minutes before as they had watched Moriah¡¯s battle footage. Lowell hated the A.E.C. and had openly fantasized about slipping into certain executive''s homes with a laser scalpel. Within a matter of minutes, the crew had come up with a plan. Their high communal intelligence leant the team towards quick, efficient, decisive action rather than bickering and squabbling over a path forward. Lowell had already begun refining the Moonshield to avoid the intense attraction of the Pull. Experimentation with the updated formula and Casting were to resume immediately. In between Casts Gondo would recuperate and focus on covert actions in the real world to gain intel on the developing situation between Ourobouros and the A.E.C., as well as any information related to Calcio¡¯s involvement. Ignasius was committed to battle readiness and kept to his workshop, but he would assist all parties as needed. He didn¡¯t need a frame to be effective in the lab or on the streets. Gondo proceeded to this Casting table and shed his cloak, his heart soaring at the chance to once more utilize the Moonshield. ¡°And so, my friends, we return to the infinite reaches of the cosmos.¡± CHAPTER ELEVEN: Starward Weeks passed as the plan went into motion. Gondo had received a coded message from Moriah notifying him of her safety and informing him that though rudely interrupted, their conversation wasn¡¯t finished. He wasn¡¯t about to plan any get togethers soon. Now that Krueger was aware of Gondo¡¯s involvement he would stop at nothing to eradicate them. Gondo¡¯s team was powerful, but the A.E.C. had a global army at their disposal. Utilizing a series of disguises and physic glamours he was able to venture out in search of intel on the developing situation between Ouroboros and the A.E.C., but no big breaks yet. There had been a few more skirmishes that were shown on the news feeds, but nothing substantial. His recent forays into deep space had been more fruitful than his corporeal investigation. For so many years they were only able to bring back snap shots of these areas, now they were recording full video straight through Gondo¡¯s brain. He had gained more control with every attempt, and after each cast Lowell would analyze and refine the Moonshield. They finally had a stable form. Once again Gondo opened the neon door. The universe was alive around him. He was floating in a space filled with color and action. He could see blazing comets lazily performing their celestial travels, massive black holes feasting on interstellar gas and whatever else crossed their paths. Even latent energy trails from what Lowell had surmised may be signs of life travelling between star systems. There was so much to behold and document, it was hard to figure out where to start. Gondo decided his first step was to create some clothes. Nobody wanted to see his blue space dong floating around in the ether anymore. As real as everything seemed he was aware that he was not physically present in this area of space. That meant that what he was seeing was just his perception of self. He imagined himself in his normal attire, including his cloak. He added his spikey hair and beard. He was still glowing blue but at least he was no longer nude. Just then a massive cat leapt towards a distant asteroid and started trying to bat it playfully like a ball of yarn. Gondo was alarmed for a second, then he recognized the tabby. Matisse was with him here in the void. ¡°Hey buddy.¡± he said gently to the apparition, who turned to him and squinted his eyes in a display of affection. He suddenly felt much less lonely, and the Pull wasn¡¯t as strong. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. It was still there mind you, like an ever-present tide stretching his soul outward in every direction. While the long silver cord still trailed from his astral body back towards wherever the Earth was, it didn¡¯t draw him like the Pull did. What was it that called to him? He suddenly remembered Calcio¡¯s last recording. He still hadn¡¯t mustered the energy to review it. Lowell contacted him via the comms. ¡°I think today we should try some movement. I want you to imagine yourself traveling from your current position to somewhere that you can see.¡± This random spot in the universe had been picked for its relative normality. No special asteroids to chart and mine, no celestial anomalies to investigate. Just your average planetary system, one of over a quadrillion like it. The amazing part was that he could see each of the planets. The Moonshield turned his vision into an ultra-powerful telescope. He could easily scan the area and zoom in on any the massive floating spheres that circled the nearby star. He picked a bright moon orbiting the closest planet. As he focused on its distant light the planet became clearer until finally it took up his full vision. The surface of the moon was alive with fire. He looked down and his form was already there, floating like some ancient astronaut in front of the massive sight of the blazing moon. By bending his focus toward the moon his astral form had traveled directly to it. Amazing. He focused again and cast himself towards the surface. This time he was aware of his astral body flowing with him as he reared upon a volcano spouting lava into the atmosphere of the moon. He could feel the heat, no he could tell that there was heat, but he wasn¡¯t effected by it. Ignasius was going to be so jealous. He bent his form to the surface itself. As he proceeded, he morphed through a cliff sized sheet of exploding magma. It was the brightest thing he had ever seen. And just like that he was through, not even steaming. He was completely unscathed. He was floating slightly above the incline of the gargantuan volcano. He imagined himself touching down on the actual surface and he did. His astral form landed; one leg higher on the mountain than the other but both feet placed on the surface. He started thinking about how immensely powerful the human brain was. How could his mind have even gotten him here, let alone simulate a body and react to various stimuli... The silver cord behind him suddenly started pulling him back in at a tremendous rate. It was like some cartoon bad guy had shot him with a suction cup gun a barely quantifiable number of light years away and had begun reeling him in at such speeds that his brain correctly decided to shut down, and he saw no more for a great deal of time. CHAPTER TWELVE: Triumph Lowell looked from their workstation over to Gondo peacefully slumbering on the casting table behind them. He would be out for a while, and Ignasius still labored away in his workshop. The Safe House was located deep underground. On paper it was your average space mining consortium, but in reality, it was a state-of-the-art laboratory, bomb shelter and War Room. Its few access points were guarded by various security, human, robotic or both. These entrances led into expansive underground tunnels that could be flooded with gas, locked down via stasis field, or filled with hot liquid magma (Ignasius addition, of course). There were even certain small chambers along the way that hid massive metal spikes in the floors and ceilings that when activated would cause ultimate destruction on anything unlucky enough to exist inside. There was no security better than a good spike room or two. Once through the trap littered passageways and a final security door one would arrive upon the main area of the base. Its high domed ceiling contained a skylight that would alternate between night and day and various weather patterns. The walls could change between slate industrial gray to vast windows looking out on Zenlike ancient Earth skylines or even the stormy atmosphere of Jupiter. There were millions of options as this technology was relatively common place and very commercial. Often while the crew was enjoying themselves in the lounge they would travel to the bottom of the sea or to the sets of their favorite programs from the feeds or from popular Dreamscapes. The dome centered around the laboratory workstations and casting table. Orbiting the room was their meeting table, a small kitchen, a lounge and bar and passage to several private rooms and sleeping chambers. A large circular door that stood near the meeting table led through 12 feet of noise dampening insulation and then into the expansive and mysterious world of Ignasius''s workshop. Humans were forbidden in this area unless strictly monitored due to the dizzying number of mechanical arms constantly zipping through the air, sawing, welding and zapping his various projects into life. Regardless Lowell and Gondo had ventured inside many times, and enjoyed the robot¡¯s show and tell explaining the mementos and keepsakes that decorated his workspace. Back inside the dome was Lowell¡¯s workstation. In contrast to the rest of the space this was a simple area. An array of monitors and a terminal backed by a large steel wall containing the heart of their computer''s mainframe. While the ceilings and floor were packed with the formidable amount of gadgetry necessary for casting, they preferred to have the most crucial elements accessible in case of emergency. Their worn green swivel chair faced them, waiting invitingly. Lowell sat down, strapped on a cranial patch and began to dive into Gondo¡¯s latest Scry. While they could have relived the entire experience as if they were actually there, they preferred to stick with the simple sensory input. Let Gondo¡¯s thoughts be his own. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Now that they were receiving such a vast amount of data it was much more complicated to process. Ignasius had already run through the recording and marked all the notable details via his sophisticated artificial intelligence. Now it was Lowell¡¯s turn to examine frame by frame and apply their unique attention to detail. They put on one some late 20th century hip hop. The art form had evolved in myriad ways through the centuries but for Lowell the work of its originators was still the most powerful. Lowell proceeded through the revolutionary cast in awe, periodically stopping to jot down notes on the Moonshield¡¯s efficacy. The telescopic vision afforded Gondo was remarkable and traced back to a biological compound derived from an herb they had procured at a black-market greenhouse. They ordered more of the plant and saw it was immediately on its way via the complex robotic shipping framework that permeated the Endless City. In the next segment Gondo¡¯s astral body retained conscious thought while travelling at hyper light speed as he approached the lava moon. This alone was an astounding breakthrough. He was literally flying through space in ghost-form. Remarkable. The Moonshield was performing perfectly. The legendary Wu-Tang Clan bounced through Lowell¡¯s mind as if they were in the room, all while they relived Gondo¡¯s travel through the magma wall. It was breathtaking. As Gondo touched down on the moon¡¯s surface Lowell paused the recording. Something had happened here that would require them to analyze what was going through Gondo¡¯s mind in that moment. This was no invasion of privacy; Casters were all aware that their thoughts were public record. Any of their Casts might be analyzed in excruciating detail. When Lowell fully entered the cast, they were at first struck by the severity of the Pull. Not as bad as previous scrys but still ever-present and distracting. They continued as Gondo became distracted by his perplexity at his current situation. He broke his focus. Focus was something people like Gondo spent their entire lives honing. It was the backbone of their abilities, and therefore a true measure of their innate power. A formidable Caster like Gondo would have an extraordinary focus, but still in a situation as grand as this one it was liable to be broken. Thankfully, this was something they could work with, and not a problem with the formula. After going back over their notes, they began adjusting the next batch of the Moonshield. The herbs they had ordered arrived via a net of proxy delivery addresses and scans and Lowell began to extrude the necessary components in the lab. At the start the three had agreed to push their experimentation aggressively. They all knew it was only a matter of time before the compound would be released and the relative safety of their current research was lost. Whatever they were able to hone now could save countless lives once that happened. Lowell imagined a generation of Casters floating off into infinity as their specters succumbed to the increased severity of the Pull. A chilling thought. Just then Gondo began to stir. After a brief period of rest, he would once again cast himself off under the effects of the newly refined Moonshield. This was the work that would define their lives, and their names would be cemented in history for their discoveries. It was their job to make sure this was the beginning of a new realm of space exploration, and not humanity¡¯s doom. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Newcomer Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Chase Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Attack on Lower Hotep If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Gear Up Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Into the Fray Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: True Power Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. CHAPTER NINETEEN: God Mode This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. CHAPTER TWENTY: Onward Astral Voyager If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Krueger If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: The Bounty If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Invaders This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: The Beckoning Abyss You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Transformations The blinking sign in front of the dingy back-street clinic was burned out and said ¡°DOC OR¡±. Doc or death apparently, as this was the only medical facility for miles. A trail of blood led from the off-chute of an airduct near the explosion site, took a twisted and agonized path through the Marshes, and finally ended in a red pool outside the back door of the clinic. Inside, something more meat than man cried out of what used to be its mouth, as a surgeon worked diligently behind his gore spattered scrubs. The doctor was using every trick imaginable to keep his patient alive. He had no idea what kind of accident the thing on his operating table had undergone, but it left him looking like used tiger bait. It took every shred of the remnants of his Hippocratic Oath just to admit the creature. After hours of nonstop suturing, cauterizing and amputation, the patient lay in a drug induced coma. To make this thing into a man again would take a cargo load of cybernetics. The doctor only referred to it as a ¡°man¡± based on its only identifiable feature: a very remarkable and intact mustache. ... The surviving members of Snake Clan didn¡¯t skip a beat. Once they regained consciousness and the doors of their tomb miraculously opened, they found themselves buried inside the motherload of all scrap. After crawling their way out, they sent word by foot to the nearest clan outpost and were soon resupplied with fresh armor and a full rack of stimulants. They geared up, and went back into the ruin. Soon, haulers and extractors arrived at the site to begin removing any and all valuables. The wreckage of an advanced laboratory was a hot commodity, and it looked like all the other tunnels leading into the space had been collapsed. That meant there was a short time for them to grab what they could, and get the hell out of there. Hazza leaned against a filthy hyper hauler filled with expensive junk. He took a healthy drag from his smoke and exhaled it slowly. He was covered in blood, oil, char, sweat, and who knows what else. The contents of the hauler were worth a small fortune. He couldn¡¯t help but think that whoever was communicating with them over the comm system had left their tunnel intact for a reason. Maybe he was just blazed. He slapped the back of the truck loudly with his fist. ¡°Let¡¯s load out! Gotta make tracks before the big vultures come peckin¡¯,¡± he said through the burner in his lips and a cloud of smoke. Looked like he might get to spend some time with old Magda afterall... ... ¡°What the fuck is this place?¡± Darby asked as he followed the roly poly man through the facility. After a long and painstakingly sober journey from the asteroid cluster to his once forgotten homeworld, Darby was feeling like chewed up shit. He¡¯d been following this man past a haunted house¡¯s worth of operating rooms and experimentation chambers for what seemed like hours. Through a window into a room on his left he saw a sleeping Caster laying on a table amongst a number of scientists, expectantly holding clipboards and jotting quick notes. The Casters eyes suddenly bulged out of his head and he screamed, then all the veins in his body exploded at once, splattering the window. A small robot emerged and suctioned cupped its way across, squeegeeing the blood in short ineffective swipes of its bladed arms. Bernard jumped in alarm but Darby was unphased. In his short years he¡¯d already witnessed a lifetime of violence. The short man collected himself and then said in his nasal voice, ¡°Erm, all in the name of science! Please we must hurry along, follow me!¡± and resumed his quick trundle down the corridor. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Through another window on his right, he saw a woman in a surgical gown hooked to a glowing IV. He could sense her psychic energy through the wall. It spiked drastically and she began cackling like an escaped lunatic before sending a wave of energy into the scientists eagerly observing in the corner, liquifying them. She immediately passed out on the floor, just before her own head exploded. A man eating his own arm. A woman whose skin had melted off of her body but continued to converse calmly with scientists. A sinister robot with a visible human brain. This place was insane. With his notepad held sideways from his face, Bernard blocked each window in turn, busily moving his squat body ever along. ¡°Honestly, this guy¡¯s pretty fast,¡± Darby thought to himself. They finally found the end of the long hallway, which opened into a multilevel chamber stacked with diligently working researchers and technicians. A hundred different wild looking projects were their labor, but Darby had no interest in them. Bernard led them through this area and into a private windowless white room near the back of the complex. The harsh overhead lighting seared from above. ¡°Have a seat please,¡± Bernard instructed. A small table and an uncomfortable looking chair sat in the center of the room. Darby loped over to it, kicked it away from the table, and sat with his arms crossed. The door locked with a click and the lights dimmed. A beam of light appeared from the ceiling and scanned them both head to toe, bathing their bodies with its light. Satisfied, it retreated and the lights resumed their scorch. They sat there a spell, Bernard humming to himself and Darby scowling at Bernard. Suddenly, at the far side of the room, the wall slid open and two heavily armored and helmeted troopers entered the room. They stationed themselves on either side of the door. Then a man ripped straight from a G.I. Joe box marched through the door. Darby could tell immediately that this man was deadly. He walked in front of Darby, turned to him and regarded him with a cold stare. ¡°I present to you Augustus Krueger. Mr. Krueger, Darby Cutter as requested sir,¡± Bernard said. A tense moment went by as they sized one another up. Then Krueger began, ¡°A pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Cutter,¡± he said in a deep grizzly voice. ¡°You¡¯ve been selected for a very important job, one that I think suites you well.¡± Darby sat in silence. ¡°You see Mr. Cutter, there is a war going on. Not one of the showy affairs you see on the nightly feeds, or one of the secret space wars.¡± Darby raised an eyebrow. Krueger began pacing back and forth in front of him. ¡°This is a war between good and evil. A war between dark and light. A war that lesser evolved people could barely fathom in the depths of a brain melting Trinalite stupor.¡± He had a way of enunciating words that was excruciating to Darby. Treen. A. Light. ¡°I would like to recruit you in this war. I¡¯d like to pay you an absurd amount of money to do so.¡± He stopped to let his words sink in. Bernard hobbled forward and dropped a contract and a pen on the table. ¡°Feel free to read through it, I know you won¡¯t. I can tell you are a serious person Mr.Cutter, and so I¡¯ll cut to the chase. Have you ever held true power?¡± he said as he placed two palms on the table and stared into Darby¡¯s face. Darby waited a beat and then replied. ¡°I¡¯ve driven thousand-ton mining rigs through asteroids from distant stars. I¡¯ve seen the light fade out of a man¡¯s eyes as he died by my hand. And my astral form has travelled as far into the blackness of space as any man alive. So yeah, I¡¯ve felt ¡°true power¡¯.¡± Now it was Kruger¡¯s turn to raise an eyebrow. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask if you had ever felt it. I asked if have you have ever held it,¡± Kruger said, and reaching into his pocket withdrew a single vial, red hot and steaming. He placed it on the table. Bernard took a few steps closer towards the exit. Darby couldn¡¯t take his eyes off of the syringe. It was like an optical illusion, or a funhouse mirror. It rippled through the heat surrounding it. Sweat broke on his brow just from looking at it. ¡°What... is this thing?¡± he asked, words struggling to escape from his mouth. ¡°This, Mr. Cutter, is the reason we dragged you off that shit-can rock. This is a way to make your life mean something. I urge you to sign the contract. We will begin experimentation immediately.¡± Kruger said. Darby shook his head, ¡°Hang on, I¡¯m not trying to gnaw my own arm off. Or have my head exploded. You don¡¯t know who you¡¯re messing with,¡± he said and reached into himself to find his focus. But it wasn¡¯t there. He couldn¡¯t summon a trace of psychic energy. He looked down at himself bewildered. ¡°We took the liberty of installing a limiter on you while you were fighting the D.T.s in the shuttle,¡± Krueger said with a flat look. Darby bolted up from the desk snarling and lurched towards Krueger. Before he could make it a foot, one of the guards laced him with a stun gun, leaving him shaking and immobile on the floor. Krueger looked down on him, disgusted, ¡°It¡¯s always nicer when they sign the form,¡± he said, and his face was eclipsed with blackness as Darby lost consciousness. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Pull Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.