Chris Huisjen
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Halcyon System 2 Chapter Twenty-Eight
🕑 Added 2024-11-20 14:49:07 +0000 UTCLocation Unknown, Provisional Reality ARC, Time Unknown
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Twenty minutes later, I’m back in Provisional Reality ARC, without Alice this time. She’s on her way back to her room in SHOCKS Headquarters to sleep it off, and I’m back with the Recovery and Stabilization Teams. The same ones that were ready to shoot at me just a few minutes ago.
I step out of the portal and into the computer room. L5-4 has connections with every machine now, and she’s pulling data as fast as she can. Everyone else is just sitting around and doing nothing. It’s weird how things can go from ‘everything has to happen now’ to ‘sit around and do nothing’ in just a few moments, but that seems to be how SHOCKS wants to operate.
When I’m done getting my bearings, Rodriguez and Strauss lead me to the window. They lose focus halfway there, then the reminder hits Strauss, and he points down. “We’ve got hostiles. Lots of them.”
I look. There have to be a dozen Mindbenders, and more are on the way. They’re not making a move—yet. They’re just hunkered down on the pavement, their not-bodies almost completely submerged. I shut my eyes. “James, do you have a solution?”
[Yes, but you won’t like it.]
“I never do when you say that. Let me guess. You want me to fight them?”
[No. Against that many, you’d be in trouble, and while Strauss’s mines should help, they won’t thin the anomalies out enough. When they’re ready, they’ll come right in here. I want you to take the data from L5-4, put it in your hoodie, and keep it safe. Then we’re leaving. Command agrees with my plan, for what that’s worth.]
I eye the merge portal. I just got back here. It’s way too early to fall back now.
[That’s the part you won’t like,] James continues. [Lambda-Four’s going out the window.]
He explains the plan, and I roll my eyes. It just gets worse and worse. But I agree with it. It’s possible, and if it works, it’ll buy the other team plenty of time to finish their work here. It’ll also move us around the city, and we might find some other clues about the Voiceless Singers. There’s no way we hit exactly the information SHOCKS wanted on our first building.
And it moves me away from Lambda-Five. I can almost trust Lambda-Four, but there’s no way I trust L5-1 not to do something stupid.
So even though it’s going to get us all killed, I agree with James’s plan.
Daley counts us down. His monster rifle’s aimed across the street and about ten stories down, toward another glass-and-steel skyscraper that’s covered in black void vines. He’s got it easy; his weapon’s got a scope that probably auto-aims for him.
I’ve got to make the exact same shot a second after him, with my Revolver. With my finger in the barrel.
“Three, Two, One,” Daley says.
The rifle roars. Across the wide street, glass shatters. The second it’s clear, I fire a single reality skipper. If this doesn’t work, I’m supposed to Slither and Smoke Form to safety. I doubt that’ll work.
The micromerge opens, and I Mergewalk across the street. It feels like being sucked through a straw full of Jell-O, but I arrive.
I missed. That’s the first thing that goes through my head. The second thing is that the window frame’s right there. My hand wraps around it, driving glass into my palm and fingers and my weight slams down.
But I hold, and a moment later, I’ve Slithered through the window, just like we planned.
“I’m in,” I say over comms.
“Copy that. Daley, take the shot,” Rodriguez says.
A flash goes off from the computer room window as I throw myself to the ground. It’s supposed to be a cable launcher. But just in case it’s not, I press myself onto the carpet. When the cable and grapple hits my back, it’s almost like a physical weight coming off me. I know I can trust Lambda-Four—or at least Strauss—but proof is good. Trust, but verify, or something.
I secure the cable around a concrete pillar and then send a picture on their face plates. “You’re good to come across.”
“Daley is staying to provide overwatch,” Rodriguez says. “See you in a minute.”
It takes them almost five to both get across. The whole time, I keep my eyes rotating between their dangling, harnessed bodies and the growing crowd of Mindbenders below. Something about them bothers me, now that I can actually focus on them. They’re so similar to the Voiceless Singers. That seems important.
“James, why would something go void? And are antimemetic traits normal with void entities?” I ask. We’ve got time.
[We don’t have a very good record of void entities. Until the Voiceless Singers, we’d only encountered a few, and some of those have R-0 explanations. Experiments with anomalous tech gone wrong, stuff like that. But no, antimemetic traits aren’t typical of anything. Not that we can tell, anyway,] he says, the hint of a joke in his voice. [Antimemes are hard to study by their very nature, and that goes for the Halcyon System as much as it does SHOCKS.]
“But there’s a connection here. What is it?” The equation’s pointing me toward something. I don’t know what, yet, but something. “James, I need to know what’s on those computers—especially if there’s a map of the city or planet. I’m looking for…something.”
[We won’t be able to see what’s on them for several hours; by then, we’ll be back in R-0.]
“I know.” But that doesn’t matter. What I want and what I can actually get are often two different things.
◄▼►
The cable stays in place. If Strauss and Rodriguez have to use it in a hurry, things are going to get messy, but it gives them an out. They’ll need it anyway, but the fast escape is important. That’s important, because this next part’s going to suck.
“L4-4, are you ready?” Rodriguez asks.
“Affirmative. Lambda-Five is in position to defend if things go wrong,” Daley says. “They usually do, so it’s better to be prepared.”
“Cut all nonessential communication,” Command says. The tension drips from Director Ramirez’s voice.
Rodriguez tightens her grip on the entry-level door. She jerks it open. “Go!”
I rush out, Revolver blazing. Lances of fire spike out toward a half-dozen Mindbenders. Strauss and Rodriguez pull the door shut behind me as I switch shells and keep shooting. Four miniature black holes appear between me and the Mindbenders. They’ve noticed me, but the singularities block their path. I keep shooting until the third cylinder’s dry, too, then Slither down the street.
The plan’s simple. I’m supposed to lead them around the block, then back into the building I just left from. That’ll buy Strauss and Rodriguez time to activate the ten-minute timer on the explosives Strauss lined the building’s bottom floor with and get back across to the computer room. We’re doing some uncontrolled demolition in the middle of the Voiceless Singers’ city, in a strange reality with unknown consequences.
There’s no way this won’t end badly. For someone.
My money’s on getting a Voiceless Singer’s attention halfway through, but I haven’t said that to anyone, just in case I jinx it.
I lose focus. The reminder comes in, and a second later, I lose focus again. There are so many Mindbenders on the street that I’m constantly losing my train of thought, even with my Mental Fortitude. I need space. I need to get around the corner. Why do I need to get around the corner?
[Adjusting warning speed upward,] James says.
The warning comes in, and I refocus long enough to fire a full cylinder into the nearest Mindbender and take off down the dark road. It’s covered in void vines, and I trip, stumble, and keep running.
One thing about the Mindbenders is that they’re slow except in bursts.
I should have noticed this, but they’re antimemes, so it’s not a surprise. I round the corner and start counting. I make it almost twelve seconds before the first monster comes around the corner and gets a gravity shell for its trouble. More come around the corner. Bullet Time. Three shots, one on each of the first three enemies. Then I keep moving, slowing down to a jog.
“Explosives armed,” Strauss says.
“Got it,” I reply.
They’re slow, but there are so many of them. I keep moving, get around the corner, and almost run into one. It slams into me, drives me to the asphalt, and disappears as I lose focus. My hoodie’s torn and shredded, but the disks are in my pocket, and they’re intact. So are my cylinders.
The reminder comes in, and that Mindbender gets three fire lances, too.
And that’s when things go wrong.
◄▼►
I expected it to be a void angel. A Voiceless Singer.
It’s not. But that doesn’t make it better.
I lose focus. Refocus. Lose it again. It’s a constant battle in my head. There are so many Mindbenders. Too many. I can’t stick to the plan. I need cover.
“Command, Lambda Four, this is L4-3. I’m not making it back to that skyscraper,” I say as I stagger. My brain doesn’t want to work. Individually, I can handle these things.
There are fifty. Maybe more; they’re impossible to count.
“Copy. JAMES Unit, please create an alternate path for L4-3 to regroup with Lambda-Four and Five,” Command says.
[Negative. At ground level, the risk of fatal injury from either the explosion or collapsing debris is too high. I’m working with L4-3 to brainstorm solutions that involve stalling at the edge of the blast zone, but the antimemes’ intended destruction is unlikely at this point.]
Unlikely. That means it’s not going to happen. And James isn’t working with me. He’s not even talking to me. That’s fine. Better than fine. It means I can concentrate—a little bit.
So, the first thing is to get clear.
I fire another cylinder until the hammer clicks. Who knows if I’ve killed anything? Not me, that’s for sure; I’m barely even aiming. Aiming requires concentration, and my train of thought’s completely off the rails. I stagger down the street ahead of the Mindbenders. They follow like I’m the Pied Piper or something. It’d be comedic if I wasn’t in the middle of it.
“Explosion incoming,” Strauss says. “Ten seconds.”
Ten seconds? It was just ten minutes! I throw myself toward the crystal glass into the nearest building.
The shockwave blows out the window before I can hit it, and a hurricane of glass shards surrounds me. I Smoke Form, hit the ground softly, and then run into the building. The Mindbenders follow me, but I’m not worried about holding them in one place anymore. I just want to escape. Behind me, steel screams, lightning sparks from broken power lines, and all hell breaks loose as the towering skyscraper collapses in on itself in a textbook implosion. And the Mindbenders keep coming. I think. I can’t be sure, because I only have seconds where I know they exist.
[That explosion would have killed you if you’d gone in, Claire.] James’s voice drips with worry. [I’m checking SHOCKS for any signs of betrayal.]
“They won’t. Not like this,” I say between breaths. It’s true. SHOCKS didn’t set those fast on purpose. They’re mentally unfocused, too. I’ve been losing too much time to the Mindbenders. Without the reminders, I wouldn’t have made it to safety at all.
I hustle up a floor, then another, until the skyscraper across the way has mostly collapsed and the dust starts to settle. I can feel the Mindbenders in my brain. They’re closing in; in spite of my Mental Fortitude—in spite of the constant reminders—I just can’t concentrate on why I’m running.
Why am I running?
Right. The Mindbenders.
I have an idea. It’s a stupid idea because the risk is even higher than last time. I need to get back to the RSTs, but I can’t lead the dozens of monsters filling the street and the floors below me back to them. What I can do is disappear. I’ve got tools for that.
Gunfire echoes across the street. It’s almost silent compared to the skyscraper’s long, drawn-out destruction. “L4-3, Lambda-Four and Lambda-Five have made contact with the anomalies and are attempting to neutralize them,” Command says.
“Got it. I’m on my way back.” I keep climbing the stairs, shooting as the not-void monsters gain on me. I slide into an elevator and press the button. The door closes, but something slams into me before it can seal. I’m shooting everything I have; the heat in the little cube skyrockets as the Mindbender slams me around and gets pulled into walls. It disappears, only to reappear and disappear again.
It doesn’t matter. I keep shooting even as something cracks in my hip and I hit the ground. I Slither and Smoke Form, falling out of the bottom of the elevator and forcing myself through a door. I solidify before I bounce off the floor; the tile feels like hitting a brick wall. There might be a dent like in the cartoons. I don’t care; I keep running, heading toward the building I came from.
“Negative. The RSTs need evacuation, not assistance,” Command says. “Proceed to the third floor of the nearest building and use a fire lance shot to mark your location. L4-4 is on the lookout for you. Expect another grapple.”
“God dammit,” I gasp. Then, I head for the nearest building and jog up the stairs toward the third floor. My mind’s clearing, so I’ve shaken the monsters—for now.
◄▼►
The gunfire only intensifies as I shoot out the window, run the Revolver across it to break the glass, and fire a flame lance into the sky like a flare. I’m in what looks like a cafe, except it’s covered in dust, and I don’t recognize any of the drinks in the vending machines.
One second passes.
Two.
The grapple passes over my shoulder; its blade slices into my earlobe, and I slap a hand on my face like I’ve been stung. The line starts sliding for the door; I grab it and secure it. “Command, the line’s tied.”
“Copy that. Lambda-Four, Lambda-Five, prepare for quick-line descents,” Command says.
“I fucking hate these,” someone says. I don’t catch who. I watch a half-dozen black dots leap out of the window high above and coast toward me, cable screaming as their harness’s pulleys bounce and rub on the steel. They hit in a variety of rolls, getting clear in the second or two before the next trooper slides through the window. Strauss is first, and by the time he’s recovered, he’s already got a remote control in his hand.
“Firing in ten.”
I wait and brace myself for a building-leveling explosion as troopers recover around me.
Instead, I get a muffled ‘whump’ as the computer room near the top of the tower erupts out the shattered window, and the cable’s tension releases. It whips toward us but bounces off the building.
L5-1 nods. “Thanks. We’re down two; L5-2 and L5-5 didn’t make it.”
“We’ve got our whole team,” Rodriguez says. She nods at me, and I nod back. Then she continues. “Command, JAMES Unit, we need either immediate evac from Provisional Reality ARC or a mission objective far away from here. This area isn’t secure, and the beachhead is compromised.”
“Understood. Head due north along the main road. Evacuation will be that way in an hour. Until then, your main objective is to find additional information on this reality and to protect the information you already have. Command, out.”
L5-4 hands me some more drives. I take them. “So, we’re here until we find something, right? That’s what Command really said.”
“Negative,” Rodriguez says. Her jaw’s set. “We’re here until Command pulls us out. Hopefully, that happens soon. JAMES Unit, please give us our current time until personal reality level collapse occurs.”
[Thirty-two minutes exposed, almost fifty-eight minutes in cover. Your personal reality anchors are beginning to fail,] James says.
Rodriguez’s face goes white. So does mine. It sounds like the RSTs are screwed. The timer’s ticking.
◄▼►
Alice lay in her bed, safely tucked away in SHOCKS Headquarters. She was asleep, but she wasn’t resting. Her mind was still too addled from the access compound for her to rest.
The walls were down. All of them. She was eight years old, and a shadowy figure pursued her.
She’d always—always—been who she needed to be. She’d taken the access compound without complaint, even though it burned like ghost peppers as it went down, because someone needed her to be something. Her whole life, she’d been what others needed her to be.
When Dad needed someone to keep the family afloat and figure out the bills, she’d put herself away in a box and ran the apartment as best she could—even at nine years old. When Claire needed someone to tuck her in, the housekeeper disappeared, and the mom neither of them had stepped up. Soccer star? Candice wanted her to try out in 6th grade; before that, she hadn’t cared much about it. Valedictorian? Her fourth-grade teacher said she could do amazing things with her mind and told her to apply herself. On and on and on, a million boxes for a million slightly different Alices.
The shadow was just like any of those roles she’d been asked to perform, except she’d never asked for Li Mei. It went in its box, just like the one she’d put herself into when she was eight. She’d had taken a long time to build the box, and putting Li Mei in it had been more effort than she wanted to spend. She’d rather Li Mei just go away. Die, disappear, or let SHOCKS take over the imprisonment instead of her. She didn’t care as long as Li Mei wasn’t in her life—or her head.
The box had been a compromise. So had her reliance on Li Mei’s infovampiric powers. She was bonded, yes. But she hated it, and Li Mei stayed in her box unless she was needed. And the box. Stayed. Locked.
Now the box was open, and Alice—the real Alice she hadn’t been able to be in a decade until her stupid sister broke her free last night—was running. Li Mei had already killed off a half-dozen Alices. If she could escape, she could rebuild them. But there wasn’t anywhere to go. Everywhere she could hide in her own mind, Li Mei could go.
She was trapped and running out of space to stall in. The shadowy figure closed in. Nowhere in her mind was safe.
But one place might be. It’d mean abandoning her body to Li Mei, and that would have consequences. But it was better than losing herself. As long as she had herself, she could rebuild her walls. She could find her way home.
Alice took a deep breath. She jumped.
Her body lay in her bed. It was asleep, but it wasn’t resting.
She traveled the not-gray void toward her port in the storm, clad in a yellow raincoat and sticker-covered pink rain boots.
