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066: Contamination 067: Shroud  Post:
04.06.2007Date: Unknown Time: Unknown Contamination
The tour group stepped out of the elevator. The professionally-dressed tour
guide led the group down the marble-floored corridor. The group came to a stop
right on top of the giant Takiyoma seal set in the floor.
“This is the fourteenth floor of Takiyoma West,” said the tour guide, a tall,
lanky man, who was bald, except for a goatee. He wore a white lab coat that
almost touched the floor. “The fourteenth floor is also known as our ‘special
weapons research floor.' Weapons research is one of the core pieces of research
we do here.” He pointed to some windows on either side of the hall, allowing the
group to see into rooms full of equipment and lab technicians. “We develop
weapons tech here, which we then deliver to various customers, as well as our
own security forces.”
The tour guide pointed to two parallel yellow lines running the length of the
hallway. “Follow me, but be sure to stay within the yellow lines.”
“So, what will happen if I don’t,” said the redhead, playfully, as she stretched
out her leg, as if to step past.
“You see those guys in there,” the tour guide said, pointing to the two heavily
armed, heavily armored guards standing inside one of the rooms. One of them
scowled at the group. “Well, let’s just say…they’d be very unhappy with you.” A
few of the rest of the tour group chuckled. One of the tourists--a man wearing a
green visor--snickered. “I’d love to see that!”
“This way, everyone,” the guide said, as he led the group down the hall. He
stopped in front of a large window. “Most of our weapons work here is so secret
that we can’t show you. However, this is something I
can show you.” He gestured toward the window. Beyond the window,
dozens of lab workers in light blue coats, masks, and lab-hats, bustled about
several tables filled with equipment, making adjustments to things. In the
center of the room was a large chair. Strapped to the chair was a young man,
naked, except for his underwear, and a plethora of sensors connecting his body
via wires to machines that analyzed his physical condition.
“What you see here, folks, is our non-lethal evaluation room. Takiyoma also
develops a number of non-lethal devices for use by peace officers, and the like.
This room is used to test some of those weapons before we put them on the
market.”
One of the lab technicians picked up stick-like device, flipped a switch on it,
causing it to glow blue. There was a crackling sound that could be heard even
through the wall. “Ah,” said the tour guide, glancing through the window,
“perfect timing. Looks like they’re about to test the new XJ-35C Physical Pain
Compliance Device, or as we like to call it, ‘pain baton.' ”
The lab tech stepped closer to the man strapped in the chair. The test subject
was now closing his eyes and wincing in anticipation.
“The pain stick is the ultimate in personal non-lethal deterrent devices. One
minute the most excruciating pain imaginable…” The lab tech suddenly jabbed the
man in the stomach. Instantly, the man bolted upright in the chair. The thick
window glass muffled his (otherwise ear-piercing scream). “The next,” the tour
guide continued, “everything’s back to normal.” The lab tech pulled away, and
the man slumped a bit.
Several of the group members gasped. The visor-man laughed out loud. “What are
you laughing at?” asked the young redheaded woman. “I can’t believe they’re
doing that to him!”
“Don’t worry, miss,” said the tour guide. “He’s fine! See?” The tour guide waved
at the man. The man saw him and smiled back, uneasily. With a crackle, the pain
baton once again touched his body. Instantly, the smile was gone. Sparks shot
out, as he threw his head back and let out another scream. This time, when the
test was over, the man was breathing heavily. For a moment, his eyes rolled back
in his head before he returned to normal.
“I can’t believe you guys are doing that to him!” exclaimed the redhead girl.
“They gotta test it on someone,” said one of the other women in the group.
“Maybe you’d like to test it instead.” The man with the visor grinned at the
redhead. “I’d love to see that!”
“Actually, we’re always looking for bright young candidates,” said the tour
guide. “Normally we just grab people off the street, but anyone’s welcome to
apply.” The redhead glared at the tour guide. “The pay is great and the
benefits…”
The lab tech activated the pain baton again. This time, he took it to the man’s
leg. This time, the screaming faded out halfway through the test. Afterwards,
the man’s body went completely limp.
“Nothing is worth that!” the redhead woman half-shouted. “That’s just inhumane!
Takiyoma, as far as I’m concerned, you guys are the lowest ja’a-eating—“
“Uh, perhaps we should move on,” the tour guide said, taking a step down the
hall.
“Or perhaps not!” said the redhead woman, stamping her foot, clearly irate. “In
fact, I’m not going on with this tour until you release that man.”
“Listen, lady, don’t be like this.”
“You butchers!” she shouted, as she pounded her fists on the glass. Several of
the lab techs looked up with a start. “That’s right, I’m talking to you.” The
techs looked at each other, sheepishly, and then touched the pain baton to the
test subject’s elbow. His body jolted again. The woman let out a shrill scream.
The tour guide looked through the widow and gestured at the two guards inside.
The guards nonchalantly made their way to the door.
“Just stay calm, everyone,” said the tour guide, reassuring the group. “The
guards will take care of this.”
No sooner had he said this than the door swung open, and the two guards came
out. The tour guide stuck his head though the door. “Just carry on, everyone.
She’s not going to be a problem.” The guards came up behind the woman. “All right, keetcha, just settle—.” In one swift motion, the woman spun around and shoved two needle-like objects into the guards’ unarmored armpits. The guards slumped over, unconscious. “No, I won’t settle,” she said, and raced past the tour guide into the room.
Before anyone had time to react, the woman was at one of the tables. “Let him
go!” she demanded of the lab techs.
“We can’t do that!” one responded.
The woman grabbed the pain baton right out of the lab tech’s hands.
“Get the alarm!” another said.
“I got it!” the tour guide shouted, and rushed over to the wall where a large
red button protruded.
“Calm down, lady,” said the nearest tech. Suddenly, he made a grab for the pain
baton, but the woman was too fast. A blow to the shoulder sent him stumbling
back, screaming, knocking over some equipment.
“Who’s next?” asked the woman angrily, waving the pain baton around.
“Glitch it,” said one of the techs, “what about that alarm?” Something sparked
where the tour guide was standing. He slammed his fist on the alarm box.
“It…it’s not working!” said the guide, exasperated. He shook his head. “I’ll get
help,” he said quickly and exited the room.
“Don’t worry, folks,” he said to the tour group. “I’ll get some help. Everyone
just stay calm.”
The tour guide walked across the hallway, stopping in front of a plain unmarked
door. There was a small control panel to one side. He fiddled with it for a few
seconds before the door slid open. He stepped inside.
On the other side of the door, two armored guards stood at attention on either
side. There was a short hallway just beyond them, with another door at the end.
“There’s a woman—” the guide said, breathlessly, “—from the tour—. She’s going
nuts in the non-lethal testing area. You’d better get in there and help!”
The guards looked at each other and shrugged. “We’ll take care of it,” one said.
“Just be careful. She already took down two of your buddies.”
“Got it. We’re moving out,” one said. They both stepped past the tour guide—on
either side. Before they reached the doorway, both fell face down on the
floor—needle-like devices sticking out the back of their necks.
“Can’t have you two spoiling the fun just yet,” the tour guide said, with a
smirk. Besides, there can’t be three of us running around, now can there?” The
tour guide’s body flickered, and he became the doppelganger of the unconscious
guard. He grabbed the guard’s rifle to compete the look.
He walked down to the far end of the corridor. This time he flipped open a panel
in the wall, near the door. After a few moments of fiddling around, the door
swung open. He quickly replaced the panel and stepped inside.
Beyond the door was another room full of lab techs and equipment. “Everyone
evacuate!” he said in a loud voice. “There is a terrorist loose in the building!
Don’t panic, but I need all of you to exit as quickly as possible.”
The half-dozen or so lab techs in the room had stunned expressions on their
faces. Several dropped what they were doing and headed for the door, behind the
guard.
“Not that way,” the guard said, waving them off with his hands. “Too dangerous.
Use the emergency exit.” He pointed to a small door at the far end of the room.
The lab techs made their way to the exit. Two of them were standing at a table.
They had been working on an oversized pistol-like device. “What bout the
prototype?” one asked. The guard held up his rifle. “I’ll guard it with my
life!”
One of the techs shook his head and smiled. “Trying to lock in that holiday
bonus, eh? Well, good luck!”
“Thanks,” said the guard. “Oh, and everyone keep quiet about this on your way
out, please. The last thing we need is another media fiasco.”
As the first tech opened the emergency exit, an alarm sounded, and white strobe
light started flashing. A feminine voice stated, “This is an emergency. Please
exit the area as quickly as possible. This is an emergency. Please exit the area
as quickly as possible. This is an emergency…”
“Go, go!” shouted the guard, as the last of the techs filed out. He shut the
emergency door behind them.
Immediately, he walked over to the table where the pistol-like device was. This
is what he was here for. A sign on the table said “Decashot Ionic Recoiless
Gatling Energy Cannon PROTOTYPE.” The DIRGE was a prototype for a hand weapon of
immense power. Designed for use by technomancers, it was rumored that no
ordinary human could wield it. Cyre didn’t know why Takiyoma was building such a
weapon, or who planned to equip with it, or even what its exact capabilities
were. All he knew is that Takiyoma’s rival, Yoshirolan, was desperate to develop
this technology too. In fact, they were so desperate, that they were willing to
pay an enormous sum of money to get their hands on the prototype so that their
engineers could dissect it to see how it worked.
Cyre set down the rifle and carefully disconnected the test sensors, and picked
it up. Its handle was polished smooth, except for the inscription: “D.I.R.G.E.”
After taking a moment to admire its elegance, he shoved it in his coat pocket,
along with two custom PLE batteries that had also been on the table.
He walked out to the hall, only to return a moment later, dragging one of the
guards, whom he proceeded to hide in a discreet corner of the lab. He picked up
the rifle and started toward the main door. He paused as he passed by the
emergency exit. There was technically no reason why he couldn’t just leave her
behind--walk right out that door and make a clean getaway. He shook his head.
“Ah, to think of how things have changed.”
Cyre, in the form of a guard stepped back out to the main corridor. “Okay, what
seems to be the problem?” he asked, in a lazy, yet official-sounding security-guardish
voice.
“You are!” a voice from the right screamed. Cyre ducked just in time to avoid a
pain baton blow to the head.
“Cinnamon!” he shouted, raising his hands defensively. At the same time, his
holographic disguise flicked off. The woman stopped herself in
mid-(second)-swing. The pain baton bounced off the wall. Instead of striking
him, she helped him up.
Cyre looked around quickly. The entire place was empty except for the two
unconscious guards—needle-like devices still in place, and the visor-man—somehow
unconscious without the benefit of a needle-like device.
“I was just coming to help, but from the looks of it--.”
“Yes, I'm fine, thank you,” she said, with a grin.
Cyre glanced again at the unconscious visor-man. “What happened to--?”
“He was annoying me.”
“I see,” said Cyre, with a mock look of surprise. “And, what about everyone
el--?”
“Scared 'em all away, including the test subject—poor thing.”
“I see. Well, good work.”
“Thanks. What about you?” she asked.
Cyre pulled the DIRGE out of his pocket and smiled.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, excitedly. She jumped over to him and planted a quick kiss
on his lips. The rifle was in the way. They didn't have a moment to spare, but
he couldn't help himself. He slipped the rifle off his shoulder, holding it by
one hand only. He pulled her body close and leaned into her, kissing her deeply.
Suddenly, he was being spun around. His rifle had slipped out of his grasp, but
for some reason, he didn't hear it hit the floor. Maia was shoving him—face
first—into the wall. He was about to whirl around to see what the big idea was,
when, suddenly, he felt the muzzle of the rifle in the small of his back.
“What the glitch?” he gasped.
“Move and I'll shoot!” she yelled.
He glanced off to the side. A team of guards had just stepped off the elevator,
brandishing rifles.
“All right, lady, just calm down now.”
“Just stay back!” she shouted.
“Okay, okay. Take it easy.” The guards remained motionless.
The woman stepped backwards down towards the opposite end of the hall. She
pulled Cyre in front of her, using his body to shield herself from a possible
attack by the guards. Slowly, she backed down the hall towards the emergency
exit there, never once taking her eye off of the four armored guards at the
other end of the hall.
“Stay back!” she shouted again.
“Nice move,” he whispered, as soon as they were out of earshot of the guards.
“Glitch me for not even noticing the elevator!”
“Gotta notice those little things,” she teased, “They're the most important.”
“Hmmpf.”
“Oh, and you can thank me later for saving your life.”
“I will...tonight.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I'm looking forward to it.”
* * *
The door to the fire escape opened and Cyre stepped out. Maia was right behind,
rifle in hand. Cyre glanced up. He had heard rumors that Takiyoma had retained
Cyberdemons to help guard their facilities. He didn’t believe the rumors.
Nonetheless, he was comforted by the clear sky, save a few guards poking their
heads out from the roof.
On the other hand, what was below them was anything but a rumor. Takiyoma had
already set up a perimeter around the building. Dozens of guards had set
themselves up in defensive positions. In one corner, a large HULC droid stood,
bristling with an array of weapons. Up above, guards peered out from the roof.
Cyre and Maia quickly started down the fire escape. “You know, I wasn't planning
on this much attention,” said Cyre.
“Well, this is just how it worked out,” Maia said, “It'll be okay.”
By now, they were halfway down. There wasn't much time until they reached the
ground, and whatever waited them there.
“All right, Miss Expert, what's your plan for when we get to the bottom?”
“Actually,” I was hoping that you--.”
“Aha. So, your plan was to see what my plan was?”
“No,” she said, a little irritated. “My plan was for you to use the opti-flash.”
“Ah. I see. Wait, wasn't that one of my backup plans?”
“Nope,” she replied. He raised his eyebrow. “It was one of our backup
plans,” she explained.
He rolled his eyes. “My mistake.”
The two finally reached the bottom, where a mass of Takiyoma guards awaited. The
nearby streets had been blocked off by large Takiyoma vehicles. More guards
turned away curious onlookers.
Finally, one of them got on a megaphone. “Okay, lady, it’s time to give yourself
up.”
The two seemed to be completely oblivious to the guard’s petition.
“Okay, this is it,” Cyre said, “ready?”
Maia closed her eyes, then covered them with her hands. “Ready,” she said.
“Good. Here we go.” Cyre’s eyes suddenly shifted color to a dark red. He pulled
a small silver tube-shaped device out of his coat and dropped it on the ground.
It started beeping quietly.
The guards didn’t seem to notice. “Lady, this can end two ways—quietly, or--”
The device stopped beeping and suddenly emitted an intense flash, lighting up
the whole block brighter than midday. This was followed by a steady pattern of
less powerful pulses. The guards seemed frozen in place. Some of them were
trying to their eyes. Others were staring blankly. One was standing, silent
megaphone in one hand, paused in perpetual mid-sentence. “Or, in a
flash,” Maia finished.
Cyre groaned. “Let’s get out of here before they wake up and kill you for such a
bad pun.”
The two darted into the network of alleyways, following a carefully preplanned
escape route designed to put as much distance as possible between them and the
labs without being noticed by curious onlookers. After a few minutes, the two
stopped in a secluded area behind a warehouse. They caught their breath while
checking to make sure they hadn’t been followed.
Cyre’s holomask vanished, leaving him just as Cyre. “Turn around,” he said. Maia
obediently spun around, her back towards Cyre. He proceeded to unzip the back of
her jumpsuit, and slowly started peeled it off of her. He started at the top and
worked his way down. He pulled the collar open, revealing the neck of a red
sleeveless skinsuit beneath. “You know, there’s something about a woman’s
shoulders,” he mumbled, and kissed her bare skin there. She giggled. He held
each sleeve as she slipped her arms out. He saw her shiver a little as he slid
the jumpsuit over her hips, past her thighs, down the length of her legs.
Gently, she stepped out of the pile of cloth around her ankles. Before she had a
chance to turn around, Cyre’s arms were around her, pulling her body back
towards him. She gasped, as she kissed the exposed part of her neck. As he did,
he pulled off her red wig, tossing it aside. He removed the hairclip beneath,
releasing the golden waves of hair to flow over his head.
“Tonight,” she said, in a husky whisper, “I want you to take the rest off of me
too…” She turned around to face him. She grabbed him by the belt of his trench
coat and pulled him towards her as hard as she could. “…and do things to me
until I can’t breathe anymore.”
“Hey. I promised, didn’t I?” he said with a grin. "Tonight will be the night.”
“Good,” she looked at him with desperate desire, “because I feel like I’m about
to expl--.”
The rest of Maia’s words were lost, as Cyre suddenly tackled her. A blur of
chrome roared overhead, just inches away from their bodies. Clothing and hair
rustled in the wake of the apparatus which was now wheeling its way skywards.
“Glitch!” exclaimed Cyre. “Cyberdemon!”
High up in the air, the cyberdemon wheeled back, its powerful wings flapping,
changing its course effortlessly. As it started back towards them, it let out a
blood-curdling shriek, making Maia start.
“Run!” Cyre shouted. The two quickly stumbled to their feet and scrambled down
the street. The two dodged refuse containers and equipment that were strewn
about the narrow street. Cyre went as fast as he could without leaving Maia
behind. He glanced back at the cyberdemon. It was closer than he had hoped.
Flapping its wings, the cyberdemon accelerated as it plummeted towards them.
“This way!” Cyre shouted. He grabbed Maia’s arm and yanked her to the right,
pulling her into the alley an alleyway in that direction. Maia tripped, not
expecting the change of direction but somehow managed to stay on her feet.
Moments later, the cyberdemon thundered past the entrance to the alley, unable
to negotiate the turn at such an incredible speed.
The two raced down the alley. It was short, and by the time the cyberdemon
screeched again, they were almost toward the end. Cyre looked up at the sky
behind him. There was nothing there. Ahead, the alley opened up to a street,
busy with hovercars. Maia stepped out into the street. “Wait!” Cyre shouted. He
grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back into the alley. This time she wasn’t
able to keep her balance and tumbled headlong into a pile of discarded
packaging.
Just then, the cyberdemon crashed into the street right in front of them. Its
talons dug deep slices into the pavement, where Maia had been standing, just
moments before. The cyberdemon continued to rip up the asphalt, sending chunks
of debris flying as it skidded past the alley.
Cyre glanced back at Maia, who was scrambling to her feet, then at the
cyberdemon, who was also trying to itself.
“Run!” he shouted at Maia. “I’ll hold him here!”
“But--” started Maia, her face full of concern.
“I can handle this,” Cyre said, with a smile. “See you at the rendezvous point
at midnight.”
“Don’t die,” she whispered kissing him, quickly. She scurried back up the alley
they had just come down.
Cyre turned his focus back to the cyberdemon, which was picking itself up. Its
fore claws—each as big as Cyre’s head—pushed itself up to rest on its even
larger hind claws. Cyre could see now that black steel, like bones gave its body
structure. Plates of mirror-like polished chrome covered large portions of that,
moving smoothly, silently. Its wings unfolded now, gleaming in the sunlight. Its
head was almost, but not quite, human-shaped, and housed two angrily flickering
optical sensors, fashioned like eyes.
The cyberdemon bared its fangs, letting out a breathy grow, now crouching, ready
to spring. Cyre tensed, ready to doge the attack. Instead of lunging at Cyre, it
leaped skyward. Its wings flapped and boosters (integrated with its legs) fired,
leaving a cloud of smoke, dust, and debris behind.
Cyre watched in horror as the cyberdemon arced through the air following after
Maia.
“Glitch!”
Without pausing to think, Cyre produced two pistols from his jumpsuit and
started firing at the monster that was descending down on who he suddenly
realized was the only living person that he actually loved.
Silver streaks flew past the cyberdemon, but the monster continued its dive,
undeterred. It was now dangerously close to Maia, giving any stray shot a good
chance of striking that which Cyre was trying so hard to protect. Cyre tossed
one gun aside and dropped down to one knee. Now gripping the single pistol with
both hands, he activated the targeting holo. The holo showed both cyberdemon and
prey.
He took a deep breath. “Lady Luck,” he whispered.
A single shot streaked through the air. The two were so far away that at first
Cyre wasn’t sure who he had hit, if anyone. Just meters away from Maia, the
cyberdemon swerved, crashing into one of the buildings that lined the alley.
Even from this distance, Cyre could see her jump in surprise. He smiled. She’d
kill him later for cutting it that close, but at least she’d be alive.
Maia kept running. Behind her, brick and rubble flew, as the cyberdemon was
quickly extricating itself from the crater it had created in the building.
Finally popping out, it looked towards Maia, who was just disappearing around a
corner, then back at Cyre, locking eyes with him. Letting out a shriek, it
lunged forward.
“That’s it, coretrash, it’s really me you want.” Cyre said, under his breath. He
picked up his second pistol again and fired both at the quickly-approaching
cyberdemon. Some shots missed, but even the ones that hit seemed to bounce off,
harmlessly.
“Now’s when things get interesting,” said Cyre, and started around the corner
into the street.
Cyre’s eyes quickly scanned the busy street. On the far side, hover cars sat,
nose to tail, locked in this evening’s traffic snarl. On the near side,
hovercars whizzed by at a pretty good clip. The curb was lined with hovercars
whose owners were visiting the shops lining the street. It was these hovercars
that Cyre eyed.
Two yellow hovercabs were parked on either side of a big blue streetrover laden
with large pallets of heavy equipment. Further down, a man with an orange hair,
blue tattoos and glowing green skin hopped off a sleep, shiny red hoverbike. He
slipped the key into his pocket.
Just then, the cyberdemon rounded the corner. Half-running, half flying, he made
the turn with ease. Dozens of onlookers, including the orange-haired man gaped
at the spectacle.
Cyre was now seated on the hoverbike, slipping the key into the ignition. He
glanced in one of the mirrors, and verified that the cyberdemon had locked in on
him. As Cyre turned the key, the hoverbike roared to life, slowly lifting itself
off the ground. Immediately, Cyre applied full throttle. The hoverbike shot
forward, nearly knocking him off. Already starting to pass cars, he glanced in
the mirror again. As the cyberdemon faded in the distance, it hurled something
large into the air. Cyre turned his head just in time to see an entire hovercab
careening towards him. Cyre swerved up onto the sidewalk, deftly avoiding
startled pedestrians. As the hovercab narrowly missed him, Cyre could see the
occupants being tossed around mercilessly inside. Cyre glanced at the street
ahead. “Glitch!” Suddenly realizing the double purpose of the cyberdemon’s
attack, Cyre slammed on the brakes. Several panels on the bike’s body opened up,
digging into the air. Braking thrusters also fired, shooting blue and yellow
flames out of the bike’s sleek nose.
Up ahead, the hovercab slammed into two other hovercars. The bike decelerated
rapidly, but the mass of wreckage in the intersection was getting closer by the
second. The bike screamed and shook, trying to dissipate its momentum as fast as
possible. Finally, the bike came to a stop, its back bucking up into the air.
The braking thruster, still firing, charred the fender of the hovercab, only
centimeters away.
Cyre backed the bike away from the heap of the mangled hovercars, and quickly
flipped it around. Ahead, the cyberdemon who had taken to the air again was now
swooping down at Cyre. Cyre gunned the bike, and it surged forward, towards the
cyberdemon, who was closing the gap at an alarming rate. After a few seconds,
though, he hit the brakes again, swerved right, and turned into another alley.
Cyre watched in the mirror, as the cyberdemon barely managed to make the corner,
one of its wings sparking as it nicked the corner of a building. Cyre expertly
guided the bike down the narrow alley, dodging trash bins. The cyberdemon, not
impeded by such obstacles, grew larger in the mirror. The alleyway opened up to
a pier. After dodging two palates of cargo, Cyre discovered the rest of the pier
was clear. He gunned the bike, racing down the length of the pier, and flying
right off the end. The hoverbike fell down to the water. It splashed a little,
but recovered, hovering just above the waterline.
Cyre opened up the throttle all the way, and the bike leaped forward. The
engines’ whine gradually became a roar. Combined with the air rustling by, the
sound was deafening. He hunched down, lowering his face under the bike’s
windscreen. It kept the blast of air out of his eyes, but he could still feel
his hair being tossed around, and his nose was still filled with the briny smell
of ocean.
He was a good way into the bay now. Off to his left, the city’s lights were
starting to flicker on. To his right, the sun had just set, leaving fiery orange
and red clouds in the sky. On another evening, it could have been quite
romantic. Cyre made a mental note to repeat this stunt later with Maia (who was
hopefully somewhere safe by now), but without a cyberdemon chasing after them.
Cyre checked the mirror again, but his view was blocked by the spray of water
that the bike was kicking up. Cyre briefly considered connecting to cyberspace
to help him keep tabs on his pursuer. He quickly dismissed the thought,
remembering that cyberdemons were supposed to be far more deadly in cyberspace
than realspace. Instead, he eased the cycle to the left, and looked over his
shoulder. High up in the sky, the cyberdemon banked, matching his move, while
slowly getting closer. Trails of smoke behind it told Cyre that it was using its
thrusters, in addition to its wings. At least it was having a hard time keeping
up.
Cyre was almost a third of the way across the bay now. Somewhere in the center,
lay a series of hypercurrent endpoints. He had used them many times in his boat,
the Lady Luck, to cut the time to the
mainland down to a fraction of what it would normally take. Hypercurrents were
fairly safe with most boats, but they were touchy, and could rip apart a craft
that wasn’t designed properly. He wasn’t sure how the hoverbike would react to
the hypercurrent effect, and decided not to chance it. Cyre made a hard left,
and was now traveling roughly parallel to where he guessed the hypercurrent was.
He glanced back. The cyberdemon was just rolling out of its left turn. Up ahead
the shoreline was approaching rapidly. A row of piers confronted him. Cyre
headed straight for them. The piers were supported with large concrete pillars,
and rusty metal beams. A collision would be deadly.
At the last minute, Cyre made another hard left, missing one of the docks by
only a few meters. Spray from the hoverbike drenched two of the pier’s
supporting columns. A second pier was just ahead. It was large, and made of
solid concrete. Cyre deftly maneuvered around it. Up ahead, a third, black
plasteel platform streaked out. This one, lower to the water. Cyre glanced back.
The cyberdemon was in a dive, coming straight at him. Instead of avoiding the
pier, Cyre aimed straight for a small gap between its underlying supports.
In a moment, Cyre disappeared beneath the pier, only to reemerge, a second
later. The cyberdemon, now with an incredible speed swooped down on the bike.
Cyre held his course, pushing the bike onward. Like a bird of prey, the
cyberdemon plucked the bike out of the water with its talons. It pulled the bike
high into the air, and effortlessly ripped it in half. Thy cyberdemon tossed the
sparking chunks of metal aside. The front half arced gracefully before slamming
into a fourth pier, showering the area with sparks. The rear half of the bike
spiraled off to the side. The engine was still running, causing it to fly around
erratically before splashing into the ocean.
The cyberdemon gave off an angry-sounding screech. What was missing from the
spectacle of destruction was a shower of blood, and an explosion of fleshy
chunks, or even a mostly-intact body, plopping into the sea. Somewhere between
the bike being lifted out of the water, and it being subsequently torn part, the
rider had literally vanished into thin air.
Back at the third pier, a very much alive and well Cyre was climbing a ladder
out of the water, up to the top of the pier. He scrambled up as fast as he
could. The cyberdemon had by now most likely figured out the holomask projection
trick that Cyre had just pulled. Indeed, as Cyre finally made it to the top of
the pier, the cyberdemon was circling around, turning to face Cyre.
Cyre stood and turned to face the cyberdemon, staring up at it as it swooped
down on him. Water dripped into his eyes. He slicked his hair back with one
hand, and wiped his face off with the other. Without thinking about it, he wiped
his dripping hands on his already soaking jumpsuit. He smirked at his own
foolishness and tried to shake off the rest of the water as best he could.
The cyberdemon was picking up speed now. Cyre could hear the whine of its
boosters accelerating it downwards faster than gravity could pull it on its own.
The pier was deserted. There would be no place to hide this time.
Cyre let out a deep breath. It was rumored that cyberdemons, like technomancers
had reflexes faster than humans. In a few seconds, Cyre would attempt to
disprove this theory.
The cyberdemon screamed again. Cyre closed his eyes.
“Just once more today, Lady Luck,” he breathed.
His eyes flew open. Cyre’s arms were a blur of speed, and suddenly something was
roaring and flashing. Thousands of tiny bolts of light flew through the air
towards the cyberdemon. Its face seemed to have a look of anger. It tried to
dodge, but it was too late. Bits of energy pelted its body, sparking as they
penetrated the chrome. Chunks of metal parts flew in all directions. First, one
wing, then the other ripped off and started spiraling down. The cyberdemon was
now falling instead of flying. Cyre kept firing as it crashed into the pier. It
landed to his left and bounced before flying off the other side and into the
water. As it careened by, it emitted one last digital scream, this one garbled,
due to damaged electronics.
Engrossed in all of this, Cyre failed to see, until it was too late, the
cyberdemon’s severed tail. It sailed through the air and catching him across the
chest. Falling into the ocean was the last thing he remembered.
* * *
Cyre coughed up seawater. Something was dragging him, pulling his lifeless body
out of the waves. His eyes cracked open. Maia was holding onto his arm, pulling
him up the beach. Nothing that he was conscious, she dropped to her knees.
“Cyre,” she whispered with a trembling voice.
“Ma--.” Before he could complete her name, Maia was holding his head, and
covering his face with kisses.
“You’re alive!” she whimpered, a flood of tears and emotions, suddenly
unleashed.
“Thanks to you,” he mumbled between kisses.
“And no thanks to you!” she snapped.
“Wha--.”
“You could have gotten killed!”
“Well, you told me not to die, so I didn’t,” he said, with a smile. “Besides,
Lady Luck never lets me down.”
“What if someday she does?” she asked. “What then?” She paused for a moment,
trying to gauge his reaction.
The T-stack master’s face was impenetrable.
“You taught me how to live in this world,” she said. “You taught me to not be so
naive. You’re teaching me how to survive on my own, but I still have a lot to
learn.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he said, simply.
“Yes, but I want you to be the one to
teach me. How can you do that if you’re dead,” she said softly, her eyes
watering.
He sat up. “Of course,” he said. She leaned closer, and cupped her hands around
his ear.
“Besides all of that, don’t you know that I love you?” she whispered in his ear.
He turned towards her. They locked eyes. He nodded and kissed her gently. |
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Post:
04.30.2007 Date: Unknown Time: Unknown Shroud It was all Cyre could do to keep from racing down the street. Instead, he held himself to a brisk walk. His face wore a blank expression—one that he practiced to wear at will. He used it many time when holding a great T-stack hand. This was the same, except that the stakes were higher, and the reward much sweeter. He slipped his hand in his pocket and felt the handle of the DIRGE. It was smooth and solid. It fit perfectly in his hand. He expected nothing less than perfection from Takiyoma’s best minds. Briefly, Cyre had thought about keeping it for himself—a trophy and a fun toy to boot. There were too many reasons to not keep it, though. One, to make full use of its devastating power, the wielder must be a Technomancer. Two, the DIRGE was one-of-a kind, and would sell for an unfathomable amount to the highest bidder—or back to Takiyoma, via a third party, as was the plan—and even splitting it two ways, he’d be rich beyond his wildest dreams. He checked his internal clock. Ten minutes to midnight. The rendezvous point was just up ahead. Maia was right. “Rendezvous Point” was too cold of a term for the location where they had first kissed. It was just the other day that she first admitted she loved him. True, it was at gunpoint, but she was the one pointing the guns. He could see it in his mind. It would be dark and dank, still wet from the recent rains. She would be standing there, back against the wall in a white skinsuit. He’d round the corner. She’d see him and smile. He’d smile. They’d embrace. She’d look down at the lower half of his jumpsuit and make some kind of crude remark like, “Is that a DIRGE in your pocket, or are just happy to see me?” At which point, he’d pull the DIRGE out and show it to her, grin, and retort with something cheesy like, “Not as happy as I’ll be later. You won’t have to ask, because I won’t be wearing any pockets.” Then without a word, they’d walk off, hand-in-hand. Later, sometime before the sun came
up, they’d pull into Whatever happened, it was quick. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. When Cyre’s eyes opened, he found himself staring upside-down at a BAT. He started. Instantly pain shot through his arm and legs. The pulse restraints flickered blue in his peripheral vision. Cyre was on a stretcher carried by two BATs. They were inside some kind of facility that he didn’t recognize. Its walls were completely white, with no décor. Occasionally, they would pass a pair of BATs headed in the opposite direction. Not even a glance was exchanged between them. “Glitch,” Cyre
moaned. He relaxed a bit. The back of his head was throbbing.
The BATs of all
people. Any Technomancer would give his left MIU
to get his hands on the DIRGE.
But how? How would
they know he was there, tonight, unless… “All right,” he said slowly, “You guys win. I gotta hand it to you. I totally didn’t see that one coming.” The BATs were silent, not even acknowledging Cyre’s remark. “So, I’ll bet you guys are pretty excited to get your hands on the DIRGE, huh? I mean you’ll be the envy of all of your Technomancer buddies, right?” No response. The stretcher shifted, as the BATs took Cyre down a different corridor. “You know, I had a deep-pockets buyer all lined up, so if you wanted to get rich, pay off the mortgage on this--,” he looked around the room, “—whatever this place is, I think we could work out some sort of deal. Or,” he lowered his voice, “you could just keep it all for yourself…party it up, get yourself some Technomancer babes perhaps…” Nothing. A door slid open, and the BATs carried him into a small, round room, placed the stretcher on a table in the middle of the room. “Well, at least tell me how you figured out I was--” Finally the BAT spoke, but by then Cyre already knew what he was going to say. Nevertheless, when the words were spoken, they cut into him like knives. “She led us straight to you.” |
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