Holding On
Javier stood near the outer edge of the plaza, one of nameless hundreds in Kelly West Arcology. Hundreds of people milled behind him as he looked out, past protective guardrails and nets, into the void before him. He could see slowly moving mites 300 meters below, where a floor finally connected with the slanting outer wall. Small dots of color shifted below a hazy gray pattern of emergency catch-nets.
Huge pylons extended from the inner building out into the space. Some merged with the outer wall, connected to large, load bearing sockets, barely visible from where he stood without amplification. Others stopped, hanging in a vast, softly lit emptiness, massive shapes rendered phantasmal by lack of context.
Cold, acrid wind buffeted him from above, tossing his hair into a black tangle as his clothes whipped about. The far end of the nearest pylon caught his gaze. Shapes hovered there, around the unfinished far end. Within the gathered shapes, light flashed erratically from motes of fire, spilling down into the emptiness.
Several large conglomeries of rods and equipment hung in the air, surrounded by tiny workers in gray overalls. Though the workers moved on various nets and lines, he was sure, by a certain casualness in their movements, that they had the security of flight columns. Three minute forms incrementally eased a support beam into place, like fleas carefully guiding a pen into a box.
Golden light slanted through the emptiness, forming patterns of brightness. He stared at the clear outer wall. It made a backdrop of hazy, glowing rectangles, divided by supports perceptible only as blurry lines of darkness. The distant heavens shone through from a rare, clear sky. Within him, he felt a clutching ache, a draining sensation he could not name.
Silver motes shone in the ocean of striated light. Javier glanced up at them, increasing visual amplification with a thought. The motes expanded smoothly, augmented vision fed from cameraspots under the outer corners of his eyes. A man clad in glowing silver hung amidst the shimmering waves of amber. His hair was wispy blond, cheekbones high and sharply defined, with a strong, muscled jaw.
The soldier, framed by wavering and indistinct edges of a magnified image, stood in open air, arms crossed. He was a hundred meters above and fifty out, accompanied by three of his brethren spaced further above and beyond. Blue eyes surveyed the tangled space passionlessly, an angel from an unseen heaven. Misplaced power and beauty unaware of itself, and so all the more powerful and beautiful.
Javier let his computer paint probable Force linkages between the soldiers and various surfaces, let the computer whisper busily to itself in the manner of its kind, while he admired the majesty before him. For the moment, mundane matters had drifted away. Past missions, the many dangers he faced, last year's battle that had caused this emptiness, all slipped away in the amber glow. He soaked up the tumbling roar of the wind and many machines, the murmuring and intermittent shouts of the thousands around him.
The blue eyes flicked his way. Javier tensed, caution reasserting itself. Avoiding any obvious movements, he called up a construct map of the layout around him. People a few meters behind him, probably turned to look at other sights, plus a few standing at the edge to his right and left. Javier checked through systems. None of his hypertech was active, all other systems minimized.
His caution subsided, somewhat, as he switched back to normal vision. He casually turned, slightly, glancing at the crowd behind him. He immediately noticed a tall, gorgeous Indian woman, dressed in a tight, red leather jumpsuit. She stood out in the predominantly Hispanic and Chinese crowd, most of whom made a point of blending in.
The woman turned, long french braid swinging, favored him with a slight smile. Javier's eyes widened. For a moment he was lost, hungrily staring at her luscious red lips, dark eyes, and tight outfit.
The amber light dimmed, and then she was one more head lost in the crowd. He stared after her, momentarily lost in a conflicted surge of emotion, before turning to regard the outer wall again. An amplified glance at the motes above revealed that the soldier was looking right at him. The pale face cracked, for a moment, in a wry smile, before turning to regard some other ants in some other distance.
Javier stared out of the far wall, face set in a slight frown. Beyond was part of another angled outer wall, a peek at the massive silvered pyramid of Kelly Green Arcology. Sky and shore tilted crazily upon it, shimmering glory reflected from hidden vistas far to his right.
Under the reflected patchwork sky he could make out the construction of a new orbital power relay. Solid panels and gridwork sketched out a dish a kilometer wide, sitting atop numerous supports. A skeletal flower floating upon the sea. Through it, the energies of millions of people would pour into space. Through it, the endless waves of hungry death would be scattered. Through it, hope would last one more day.
Javier rubbed his hands together with a slight frown. The ache had dulled, for now. He glanced over the crowd, the sea of faces on unknown journeys. He had commitments to keep.
2
Coffee
Javier glanced up. Between the heads of several patrons, he watched a slowly shifting image of the nativity, done in garish pastels. The image, splashed across the back wall, melted away to reveal 'Feliz Navidad!' in intensely green lettering. He winced as he sipped a decaf, then returned his gaze to Tom.
Tom was staring down at the table, watery blue eyes lost, like usual, in some private distance. Left hand, gray and coarse-skinned, lay on the table, fingers long and thin. He looked up, eyes sharpening again.
"That was 32 years ago. It began the two-year buildup to the Big Push of 2014. So, once there, we promptly walked into a clusterfuck just outside of Kermanshah. About forty five hundred of us trying to drive the Young out. Talk was cultists had a Goddess altar in Tehran, and the bugger-trees bore that out. Mmm. Anyway. We lost about three thousand in the first few hours until we got out of ridgelines and canyons." Tom frowned, lines deepening around his mouth, ran his free hand over his bald gray dome. Javier contemplated Tom's scalp, dull in the bright overhead lights.
"Once we got into open terrain, it went better. We had those new gunhoses... you know, low penetration, high rate of fire. Can't be too light with Dark Young... really light rounds do jackshit. Just enough to have some tooth, useless as farts against real military targets, but cut the Young apart like paper." Tom paused, smiled slightly at Javier. "Or hardcopy, for you kids."
Javier returned the smile. "Watch it, old man."
Tom's smile slowly faded, eyes drifting to some place past Javier's right shoulder, perhaps on the large windows that faced the main concourse. When he continued, his expression was again unfocused. Javier was content to listen to Tom talk about anything. Javier had hired him two months before, but Tom had been quiet and closed so far. Despite Tom's reputation, Javier worried that his lack of rapport with the other Hand members could become a problem. Javier glanced out the main windows at the faceless thousands. When anyone could have death in mind, the only hope was fraternity.
"That was when one of those upper-crust African commanders decided to order an air strike. This commander must have been a perfect example of good breeding. He actually called in an incendiary strike." Tom shook his head slightly. He eyed Javier, then explained further.
"See, son, Dark Young aren't affected by heat. At all. Well, nukes, maybe, but we were running clean. Heat doesn't bother them. Worse, that much heat? It's like nitro in their blood. They were bouncing around like fleas, smashing anyone nearby. Damn. Between their hyperkinetic thrashing and our suits overloading, we lost almost three quarters before we could withdraw. It was a nightmare. Can you imagine a guy in a hardsuit, running... then falling to his knees? Seals suddenly burst, and the guy just pops open."
Tom shook his head, finally reaching for his watery drink. Javier wondered whether his other hand was on his heavy revolver or on his machine pistol. Probably the more versatile machine pistol, Javier decided with another sip of his coffee. His computer had painted a 'possible small firearm or hand weapon' image over Tom's unseen right side several times, plaintively trying to get his attention.
Tom stared at something in the distance. "Anyway. Just glad they gave up on explosives. Those were even worse. Sure, they worked fine on Dark Young... space 'em right, and you kill fuckloads. But... friendly fire casualties were quite high. Now, gunhoses... they just flake off of milsuits. Friendly fire fatalities dropped like a stone. Very cool. Mmm. So, boss, what's the mission again?"
Javier pursed his lips, trying not to frown. He wondered, yet again, just how old Tom was. Given his military background, he had to be at least in his fifties. Tom's appearance suggested a higher age, offset by some form of longevity treatment. On the other hand, it seemed implausible that an old veteran with so much experience against the Evils would have the reputation of stability that Tom had. Javier studied the man as he went over the job.
"Ok, Tom. Got word about Xanthophilia on our turf. Palm did a bit of Link work, seems the distributors are in another Hand's territory. We got a quiet go ahead from their Palm. If we succeed, we'll get one week's worth of their security pay. So, in thirty, we meet up with Gretchen, Jade Tiger, and Bill, and work our way into the target zone. No Law on our way, the culties shouldn't know what's up. Quick hit, kill them all, try to find other suppliers. Basically a straight hit. We probably won't get all of them, but there's always more, anyway."
Tom nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful. "So. Put the fear of God ina them?"
Javier smiled slightly. "'Tis the season."
3
King of Kings
It was hard to make out clearly. The room was really just a space defined by a large gap between struts, conduits, and pipes, all covered in various shades of grime. An uneven patchwork of metal mesh made up the floor, with perilous gaps revealing dizzying shafts through tangles of metal.
Partitions were bolted to one end of the room, making up a solid wall for the mural. A few lamps, yellowed from months or years of deposits, produced dim illumination through the tight metal forest on all sides. Constant whirring and metallic pinging played softly from muffled distances. Occasionally, a trickle or banging would echo from elsewhere. Javier considered how easy it would be to become lost in the city around him, walking down endless turns and not-quite spaces. Never seeing anyone, just wasting away in endless, aging metal.
Gretchen looked back down the corridor, pale features muted and cloudy in the tenebrific light. Javier could dimly make out the rippling, white biosheath that covered her. She motioned to Bill, clad in segmented black. Javier and the rest stepped forward with Bill.
"We're close?" Javier said softly.
Gretchen nodded, her mane of red-orange hair bobbing in a tight bun. She grinned. "Another minute or two of walking, I think. This may be an outpost marking. Floor shows light recent use."
Javier looked to Bill. His reflective helmet cocked to the side as he shrugged, faint voice over a suit speaker, "I checked several times. Nothing but normal power lines, not enough interference to hide sensors. 8% error margin."
Jade Tiger was peering at the mural in the murky light. Without turning, he commented, "I see nothing of import. But I concur. We are near."
Javier took a moment to look at the mural. In enhanced view, the image was rather bright, probably to correct for the environment's lighting. It depicted a nativity. Cradle and Christ-child were depicted in the center, Joseph and Mary to the right, the three kings to the left, cows and sheep further right and left. The image was well rendered. It was almost photo realistic, though the coloring was simple and the figures seemed a bit off. Contrary to expectation, his computer could not uncover any hidden symbols or messages.
Javier switched to normal vision and continued his examination. He peered at the mural. There was something about the facial expressions of the figures, something that bothered him under normal illumination. The figures stared intently at the Christ-child, skin sallow, lips slack and almost black, teeth very white in contrast. The animals also seemed to stare at the Christ child, mouths open, large teeth bright white. The straw below was a muddy, vaguely yellow mess.
In the white, unpainted border below the mural was pinned a simple white card with 'Feast of the Nativity' printed upon it.
Javier frowned, then motioned for Gretchen to advance.
Within a few minutes, they could see a more constant yellow glow ahead and slightly below them, filtering around the black pipes and mesh of the corridor floor. Gretchen's helmet exuded from her back, flowing into place around her head. Both sheathed forearms melted and flowed into long white blades. Bill and Tom, in blackened full milsuits, covered her, while Javier hung back to protect Jade Tiger from possible flanking attacks.
Jade Tiger frowned, and sent a signal to Javier's com, spelling out his words via fingernail mice. 'Spirits say three inside. They are nervous. Power there. They think our targets know we are here.' He accompanied it with a very crude sketch of the layout.
Javier nodded and sent a quick message to the others. 'Advance with caution, possible targets tipped, magic possible. Bill, lay sensors ahead as Gretchen continues point.' Javier briefly wondered how many of his team would survive this encounter.
Bill released his sensors. To the naked eye, they were apparent only as a faintly glittering cloud, flowing through the air. The sensors drifted quickly past Gretchen and out of view. Bill relayed topological updates to the Hand's group map. A few turns, and then a wider space. Some boxes, beds, and three individuals, though the sensors were equipped to provide finer detail. The individuals didn't react overtly to the sensors.
Gretchen nodded back to the group, then quickly advanced. Tom and Bill followed with smooth steps. There was a cry over the group com, and then a few shots. Javier brought up his Force column, felt it press into the mesh below him. He carefully monitored the com and waited for surprises from behind.
Javier stared at the three figures in gray, tattered robes. Gretchen was slashing frantically at the strips of cloth that bound her. The cloths extended out of sight, into the dark metal tangle that bordered the space. She was wrapped tight, suspended above the ground. Javier had the feeling that the figures were smiling, though their deep cowls and the weak, tea-colored lighting made it impossible to be sure.
They were arranged, by chance or obscure purpose, in increasing height from right to left. He dubbed them Mr. Small, Medium, and Large. He stayed back, suspended on his Force column near Jade Tiger, and watched Tom raise his submachine gun. Tom took aim at Mr. Large and fired a burst. The shrouded figure jerked back with a shower of yellow dust, then collapsed.
A moment later, Bill was firing as well. Javier decided it was time to engage, and extended his hand. The activated Force blade slid, through various geometries, and locked into place around his hand. He darted forward, slashing at the strips of cloth that connected to Gretchen.
Javier noted Tom trying to sight on Mr. Medium. Every time Tom's weapon lined up with it, the figure flickered out of sight and reappeared elsewhere.
Bill fired again, a wide spray. Both of the standing figures flickered madly, and Javier could swear he heard a faint laughter. The prone figure had dissolved into moldering fabric and dust. The cloths around Gretchen were replaced with new strips snaking out of the darkness, as quickly as they were destroyed. The large boxes in the rear of the room jumped and cracked from stray fire.
Jade Tiger dropped into a stance, then jabbed one palm toward Mr. Small. The figure flipped backward and slammed into a strut. Jade Tiger followed with a slashing gesture that ripped Mr. Small in half. Javier grinned slightly as his hand lashed out. He hadn't seen Jade Tiger perform that trick before, but it was a welcome surprise. Javier was also finally making headway against the cloths, giving Gretchen enough space to engage her blades. Though blood was racing and mind focused on the task at hand, a quiet part of Javier began to gain confidence in their chances.
Tom and Bill coordinated their fire, trying to get coverage on the flickering, indistinct Mr. Medium. They finally trapped the figure in one corner of the room, pipes around it bursting and spraying fluids. Mr. Medium stretched upwards, to five meters in height, then snapped up into the air. In a flash, as Bill's fire trail marched up and Tom tried to draw a bead, Javier darted upward with blade arm raised.
Pieces of cloth and clouds of yellowish dust rained down. Bill ceased firing. For a moment, the team simply stood, catching their breath and letting the surge of adrenaline subside. The noises of the city filtered in softly. 'Nothing else, mostly sure,' Bill flashed.
Jade Tiger looked bad. His green eyes were sunken and shadowed, gaze a bit bleary, face dripping with sweat. Gretchen was looking around, arms up. He wondered if she was disappointed. Javier scanned the area with a frown, trying to sooth his jitters as he slowly floated to the floor. His force blade hung like a long bundle of heat distortions, a few motes of yellow dust and cloth still trapped between some of the edges. Bill simply stood, a featureless black figure, beside Tom's relaxed stance.
Tom wandered over to the boxes in the rear. Javier's mouth tightened, glancing down at the piles of cloth and dust slowly sifting through the floor into unseen depths. He traced out the maze of conduits below, wondered what else was hidden there.
Tom held up a glittering rectangle imprinted with a tiny sinuous glyph. "Yep, Xanth. Must be thousands of chips. Plus guns and drugs."
Javier tried to let this comfort him.
4
Eternity Happens at Night
The air flickered, and then went dark again. Moments later, a booming filled the narrow space. Javier flinched, glancing through the semitransparent panel to his left. Outside, dark clouds skittered over a bruised night sky. The heavens were swollen with dust, fed fat on the corpse of Luna. Javier imagined he could see the moon, cracked from the month before, surrounded by electrostatic blood. Orbital cities, handfuls of life, struggled to breathe in a sky filled with dust and radiation. And all the while darkness was on the wing, swarming in space grown poisonous.
A signal from the Palm urged him forward. He glanced over the signals from other Hands, Protectors, and even Laws. Everyone was working together, setting their differences aside. Javier's mouth tightened.
Creeping forward 40 meters, he set off another sensor sweep. Designed to propagate through the structure around him, it would hopefully not reveal his position. It had been 3 hours already, filled with false alarms and bursts of panicked cross traffic.
Javier opened his eyes with a shudder. He gazed about in confusion, not completely conscious. Lightning flashed again, casting suggestive shadows in the small space. Struggling to bring his systems up, he moaned. The breaking of the silence startled him, brought him fully awake. He sat up in bed, hugging the blanket around his knees, and shoved the fear down inside. This time the systems, designed not to trigger when asleep, came up with his mental command.
He scanned the room several times, vaguely rationalizing it as concern about rival Hands. Nothing. Extending the scan to the hall and the Wall sensors outside confirmed his security.
He slapped the button by his bed and lay back down. Breathing evenly and deeply, he deactivated his systems and tried to let the subsonics of the sleep assistant work. The year before had been difficult. The Battle of October, the death of the moon, screamers raining down from space, nightmares were natural. Darkness could be comforting. The dreams would stop. Eventually.
Between desperate assurances and the soporific, he slowly lost himself in the haze of sleep.
It was an eternity of tunnel. Just humming darkness and musty smells. At least four nearby Hands had dropped offLink. Probably dead.
'T:/Forefinger, progress?' popped up on his internal vision. He checked the schematic of his progress, sent it back through a low power signal. Another incoming signal updated his map. Small green dots, indicating the other Hand members, shifted along faintly blue walls. The image appeared to float, translucent, before him. The dot of Second Finger flashed. At its edge, a vague, portentous area of shaded yellow was outlined, centered 200 meters from her position. He signaled for Second Finger to hold. He then messaged the rest of the team to converge on her position.
As he started to move, the ground shuddered with a low groan. Signals flared up from other teams and Hand members as he ran. The floor lurched again, this time accompanied by faint light from below and an updraft of warm air. Javier activated his strongest shields and flicked on his Force column, trying to ignore the transmitted screams.
He almost ran straight into it. Whorled darkness surged in front of him as his systems started failing. Dropping to the floor, he twisted in time to see a beam of light cut into the quivering blackness. The mass puckered from the beam while a lower portion surged forward. This surge narrowed into a thick column and darted toward the source of the beam. There was a brief scream and loud tearing sound.
An all-hands warning flashed in his struggling system. He crawled away from the towering, swirling shape, hearing more screams. The gridwork was wet. In places it was spongy. Turning a corner, systems slowly coming back up, he spied Laura. She was on her side, taking a breather, her faceplate up for increased airflow.
On his hands and knees, he made his way over. Ankle sprained or broken, he frantically commanded all his hypersystems to full power. He tried to ignore the sharp smell and the cloying sewer stink flowing over him.
"Laura, we have to get out of here. At least 500 meters. They're corralling the screamers here, going to blast them all. I fi... Are you listening?" Perhaps his mind just refused to process it, at first. Or maybe it was due to the poor lighting. Only now did he see what remained of her lower body.
Tunnels and tunnels. Tunnels of dark ice, and sounds of Grinders following him, with their magic daggers. If they caught him, they would turn him into one of them. Take his bones to make new daggers, weave him onto a lattice of wood, to grin and cavort and find new victims.
This never happened, he was never here. This wasn't his dream, his almost conscious mind realized. The source, a game played long ago, almost forgotten. Memories fused into fantasy, in searing heat and light. He almost awoke, shifting in his sleep. Eventually, he grew still again.
Bright sunlight filled the harbor. Laura and he, regarding the deep blue ocean. No words, just her hand in his. Bright displays from storefronts all along the boardwalk called to the crowds. The mood was light, Law and illegals walking by each other without conflict. The Atlantic campaign had eliminated the constant state of emergency and the Ghost people had been defeated. Maybe, just maybe, humanity wasn't doomed.
"Laura..." he started, but she cut in.
"The sky is clear. A rare, clear day. Mira, Javier..." She indicated the view before them with her free hand. He only saw her dark eyes, hidden and mysterious, and her flowing, dark hair. Her face was heavenly, skin smooth and even, with strong cheeks and dark, full lips.
"On a day like this... on a day like this, you can believe anything," she said, turning to him with troubled eyes. He held her face and kissed her on the cheek, simply saying, "Si."
Clouds boiled into view, drawing over the sky. The air was like dust, like hot breath. Voices harshly calling out dark prophecies. The faint crying of children and wailing of women filled the sky. The ash continued to fall, the air dry and hard to breathe. Laura's eyes welled with fluid as she stared, face dry and cracking in his hands.
She whispered, "On a day like this, you can believe anything." He choked out, "Si."
Javier tried to hold her face together. It was terribly important that he keep a grip, keep the pieces together. There was no ground below him. His fingers bled from where the sharp bones of her face cut into him. Her jaw worked, tongue cracking and showering bitter ashes upon his face.
Barely audible, a papery voice told him, "On a day like this, you can believe anything."
Javier woke, sobbing. Into the cool darkness he whispered, "Si."
5
Las Gorditas
Gretchen kicked the bag before spinning and laying in with a backhand punch and jab combination. She dropped back into a stance, waiting.
"Good. You still need to watch balance, but good," Jade Tiger said softly. Gretchen spared a quick glance sideways. JT's Chinese features didn't register any pleasure, just his usual glacial calm and startling green eyes.
"Your opponent has a sword in his left hand. Act."
Gretchen dropped and rolled to her left, lashing out with a foot at, presumably, the opponent's right hip. She finished her movement in a low crouch slightly behind the bag. Bright lights above cast hard shadows on the blue mat. She watched the bag sway on its chain for a moment, and then stole another glance.
This time Jade Tiger was frowning. His hands remained behind his back. "A clever maneuver, but unlikely to succeed. Too slow, too likely to loose a leg. And you should aim at the knee. Take up the sword."
Gretchen groaned inwardly as she picked up the wooden practice sword. She held it out in her left hand, dropped into a relaxed stance. Sweat dripped down her freckled nose, sketching out intricate patterns on the practice mat.
Jade Tiger merely stood before her. When she was first practicing with him, she would have assumed he was showboating. Now she suspected he had practiced for so long, he couldn't help but push his own limits.
She made a feint that, not surprisingly, he didn't react to. As she drew back from the feint, however, he burst into motion. He darted toward her and, as she tried to thrust, stepped to her left. His right hand slapped her sword arm away. Continuing the motion, he spun behind her, touching her back with his left elbow.
He walked into view to her right, completing his circuit. "If the opponent thrusts and you have good legwork, you can get to the opponent's arm. That is key; otherwise you are in great danger. Now, if opponent is smart and keeps the edge of the blade between you, you are in great danger."
"Jade Tiger, Gretchen, we need to get moving," called out Javier, walking into the large practice room. Gretchen looked over, frowning. "What? Why?"
"Bread and butter. Missing children case on our turf. Sorry," Javier answered, smiling to her. Gretchen was tall and strong with a fiery spirit. He liked that. He had also discovered that, unlike many that were eager to fight, she could handle herself in actual combat.
Gretchen toweled her damp mass of red hair. She carefully cleaned off the large bump at the top of each shoulder, ports to some of her bioware. "So, what's the deal? Addicts or something? We get to bust heads?"
"We don't know. There is some talk in the area of Xanth users, but nothing involving children."
Gretchen shrugged. "Be with you in 10. Gotta shower."
Jose Arnoldo sat, high above the crowds. A huge open space, like railroad terminals in earlier days, was filled by hundreds of people. Several levels below storefronts enticed passersby to stop in. A few security stations, glossy black bubbles only a foot or so across, peppered the railings of the open walkways along the walls, watching the crowd.
He loved the smell. The warm, slightly sweaty smell, caressing him, blowing up over his body. His foot shifted against the glossy security station in front of him. In its reflection, he could look over his noble form, his healthy shape, his prominent, strong face. Like an eagle, watching over his dominion.
The crowd danced, danced in a slow, majestic procession. Each station of the cross, each store, was a sigil and shape of future events, of past truths. He laughed, delighting in the dance before him.
None below understood, at least not consciously. The Kingdom was all around them, woven into every form, piercing the very limbs, hairs, cells of the men and women, drawing them into his embrace. He saw the others, the doors that the crowd below couldn't see, and the faces shadowed within them. And behind the doors? Black stars hanging, pregnant in his glory.
Jose Arnoldo, secret king of the world, rubbed the shaven side of his head, caressed the small shape there, feeling the raised sigil drawn upon it. The jewel set within his crown.
Javier kept Gretchen and Tom with him, with Jade Tiger as backup. Bill was working with the Palm, Amad, to handle some inLink matters.
Javier rang the buzzer again. The corridor was not well lit, but decorated pleasantly. Archways were painted like stone, the walls depicted stucco houses, such as those in interactive historical romances. From the square with a large fountain a dozen or so meters away, to the wind gently blowing overhead filled with the faint laughter of children, the region had the feeling of a shaded alley in some small village.
Gretchen clenched her hands, saying softly, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, G. Tom, you ok?"
Tom turned his head slightly, sparing the hint of a smile. "Fine, boss." His eyes were distant, his stance loose in his casuals. Javier wasn't sure if he was brave or out of his mind. This edge of their territory was close to Law and several rivals. Regional agreements limited the firepower any non-Law groups could carry, at least without risking a confrontation. Carrying a lot of gear would attract attention, attention that they wished to avoid. Still, there was always the possibility that a rival group would seek to eliminate the competition they represented.
They were all dressed in casual tan jumpsuits, hoping to encourage their low profile. But Javier had hypertech always on hand and Gretchen cybergear. Tom had nothing but a small palm-pistol and a light pistol in his boot. Despite all this, Tom was the coolest.
Gretchen frowned. "Why are we doing this? I mean, they fill out a report, and we put out feelers."
Javier said softly, "It's more than that. This is the seventh person in the last month. Either we have a tagger gang, ghouls, or something else is going on. A report isn't going to help much, we need information that isn't obvious. Add to that, over Link, the message could be intercepted."
Javier didn't mention his other reasons. There was a way to do things. You learned that, growing up illegal. There was nothing keeping you from oppression from above and destruction from below. Nothing but the way of things. Gretchen was new, a runaway from rich parents who had quickly adapted to the streets. She had a good heart, so Javier expected it would just be a matter of time.
Gretchen shrugged. Javier turned to ring the buzzer again.
"Si? Que es?" a voice spoke loudly. Javier started, and then leaned toward the speaker. In Spanish, he responded, "Pardon me, I am Javier, leader of the Hand of the Ruby Lion. I wish for a moment of your time."
After a long, static-filled silence, the speaker cut off. Gretchen frowned.
The door clicked, then swung in. A woman in her late forties looked them over. She was heavy, with a black dress that draped over a short frame. Graying hair was up in a severe bun, over an equally severe face.
"Come in, then," she said in English, stepping to the side with some difficulty. Javier thanked her.
Gretchen sat stiffly on what had once been a plush brown couch. The air was hot and moist, with the faint odor of menthol and flatulence. Tom relaxed with a coffee in hand, looking faintly amused for no obvious reason.
"After Arnoldo spoke such blasphemies, we told him never to come here. We sheltered poor Ernesta and her two daughters. We have not seen Arnoldo for many weeks, but three days ago, Marisol disappeared! And she was at the school. She would not leave without Ernesta coming for her, we made sure. We cannot track her location, we have tried."
Javier nodded, his face long and serious. He spoke softly, "Have you received any messages from Arnoldo?"
"No, nothing," said Anna, dabbing her cheeks with a napkin.
Javier scrolled through his internal notes. They had Jose Arnoldo Galan's tags, which gave them links to biographical information and pictures. Anna had given them some details on his habits.
"We would like to speak with Ernesta and Isabel."
Isabel was a darling child of 6, rail-thin with a beaming smile and bright brown eyes. She reminded Javier of a cousin of his. Last he had heard, she was an information broker for a protection franchise.
Isabel sat on the couch beside her mother. Ernesta was also thin, haggard looking even with loose, concealing clothing and heavy makeup. Her eyes were overdone, thickly outlined in black that gleamed through the smoke of her cigarette. The cigarette sat with obvious long familiarity in her bony fingers. Her nails were long, red, and dangerous looking.
"Do you have many dolls, Isabel?" Javier asked, smiling to Isabel. She kicked her legs a bit, staring at Tom. "Some, sir."
"Did you play dolls with your sister?" She continued kicking, looking at Tom's hands, then his face. For his part, Tom looked slightly put out, turning his gaze away from the child to a large poster of a bullfight.
"No. No, she played her games. All the time. She wouldn't play with me!" Isabel said loudly, frowning at Javier. Her mother cut in.
"Marisol liked the games, on the Link. She played romances and princess. I was worried, but Arn... but her father would 'tsk' me! Tell me I worried for nothing. Fool."
Isabel added, "She liked playing princess. She sometimes told me she was a princess, and I wasn't. She made fun of me." Ernesta rubbed her daughter's shoulder lightly.
Javier considered directions, pausing to sip his coffee. Gretchen had tried making faces at Isabel. This hadn't elicited any response, so she just sat, staring at the bullfight poster, trying not to fidget. Tom was similarly helpful.
"Did she start playing new games lately?"
"No... she stopped. She started playing with friends. I got to use the Link more!" Isabel said, grinning. Her mother glanced at her with a slight frown, asking "What friends?"
Isabel frowned. "I don't know. She didn't let me meet them. She just teased me. She said she was going to be a princess with las gorditas, and I was too skinny."
Javier raised an eyebrow. "Las gorditas?" Ernesta looked down with a pained expression.
"My husband... he sometimes called her that. La Gordita... the fat little girl. He was so cruel... but he said it like an endearment. Still, she would cry. I think they may have called her that at school."
Gretchen glanced over with a frown, before resuming her study of the poster. Javier wondered what they had called Gretchen in school.
"Isabel, did she tell you any more about las gorditas?"
"She said they were beautiful, and I was ugly. And if I didn't watch out, they'd grab me and eat me up! She tried to scare me, but I just pulled her hair," she said with a grin. The grin faded. "But I guess she hated me. She never came home."
Ernesta whispered soothing words to Isabel, rubbing her back. Isabel's frown was starting to quiver. Ernesta looked up, makeup starting to run. "Please. Enough."
Javier nodded.
6
Tracking Gorditas
Bill eyed the ponderous bulk of the United Security Organization node above him, gleaming with black facets and silver lettering. The Link swirled all around him, a faint haze that obscured shining ports and data structures in the distance. He watched for satellite defense AIs that, if he skirted too close, might decide he was a potential threat.
As he came around the node, the terrain shifted. Lambent blue spheres below shifted to dull red blocks, floating in the seemingly random arrangement of a protection franchise hub. Glowing lines connected the blocks, along which the tiny, complex tangles of other travelers darted. The central Protectorate of New York archives would be more informative, but the task at hand didn't warrant that sort of risk.
With a blink, he was in. He could feel Amad behind him, keeping watch over other systems. The red block dissolved, becoming a new universe. Disks spun all around him, pierced by a shifting web of pointers and references. He held out a gleaming fragment that dissolved, releasing sinuous shapes toward the local dataweb. In moments, they had returned. After examining the files carefully for traps, he stored them and disengaged himself from the archive. He lingered briefly to refill the hole his presence had caused. He then erased what tracks he could and placed misleading information about those he couldn't.
He rose quickly, covering the faint trail he left, until well outside the protectorate's space, then punched out.
Bill stretched, rubbed his close-shaven scalp. He turned to Javier. Javier smiled thinly, his dark eyes troubled. "Well?"
"Yep. Disappearances show a definite pattern. Young girls disappearing mysteriously. Only ten or fifteen in one area before whatever-it-is moves on."
"How long has this been happening?"
"Looks like... ten months, as far as I can tell. Starts in the middle of Heis territory, on the sixth level, no reports from the places around it. It must have appeared or moved in at that point."
"Other patterns? Connections to Xanth?"
"Nothing obvious, sir. The targets are generally overweight and between the ages of five and nine. But no really clear groupings by race, religion, country of origin... nothing. I could run a detailed statistical analysis..."
Javier frowned. "No... how about Xanth?"
"No real indication. Some of the disappearances were in areas of heavy Xanth use, but that's only about five or six of the incidents. Four had relatives who are known Xanth users, but that's also not unusual."
Javier nodded. "So. Something else, then."
"Yes, sir. We have a few reports of conversations these girls had. They seemed to have met 'new friends'. Queens, or 'magic people', something along those lines."
Javier frowned.
"Bill… I have a bad feeling about this job. What do you think?"
Bill's eyes widened slightly. He rubbed his head again. "Huh. Well, jefe… It smells like Evils, obviously. We could try to pull in support from another Hand, or even a protectorate franchise. We might get some leverage from that."
"True. I'm worried that if we don't act fast, though, whatever it is might hear about it and vacate. If there's any chance that we can recover our people's children, it's up to us to do so."
Bill nodded slowly. "There's also the fact that we'd have to pay out to get support, and it could blow up in our faces. It might invite a takeover bid by a franchise."
Javier smiled. "Eh. These are our type of folk… good working folk, not much money. Not standard franchise work."
Bill shrugged. "I'd still feel better if we had help. Too many unknowns."
Javier smiled faintly. Too many unknowns were everywhere. Every corner.
Jade Tiger was less helpful than Javier had hoped.
"I'm sorry, sir. I have sent my spirits to investigate, but the information you have does not give me anything. The home looks clean, as does Isabel Galan and her mother. As for theory, what you describe could be the feasters of the dead, or a cult, or evil spirits, or some other monster. Given the female aspect, it could be the Dark Goddess, but we need more information."
Javier sighed, rubbing the counter top. He watched the faces flowing by, through the big window of the coffee shop. He wondered how many of them were from his territory. How many of them he would save. How many he would not.
"This sucks."
Jade Tiger nodded, taking another sip from his tea. He made a face.
Javier glanced over. "Bad tea?"
"No. I... I am not feeling well," he answered. The teacup dropped from his hand as he winced again, eyes squeezed shut. Javier sent a frantic signal for the local medics as he moved quickly to assist.
Jade Tiger raised a hand, the looked up. Behind black bangs, his green eyes were rimmed with scarlet. "A spirit... is destroyed. Do not call for help. I will be fine."
Javier sent a cancellation, watching a drop of blood roll from the corner of the other man's mouth. He slowly returned to his seat. "Destroyed...? Your old Tong buddies?"
Jade Tiger winced. "Maybe. Probably not. I will investigate." He tried to stand, then fell back into his seat. "Sleep. Then investigate."
7
Pale Dreams
Gretchen walked softly down the corridor, her senses extended. Resembling a tall, bone-white mannequin, her blades were fully extended. Small, silvery motes danced around her. The sensor-motes were linked to Bill, who followed like her living shadow, a faint form almost impossible to see.
The first hint of trouble was the whispering.
The second hint of trouble was the room of ivory.
There were no further hints.
"The other two spirits saw tall, soapy white figures, three of them. Segmented, jointed bodies, hands like bundles of sharp teeth, swollen shapes. Big... things. In a white room. But Enki... he came too close. They set upon him. Ripped his essence to bits and consumed him. The other two fled," Jade Tiger said softly, his dark green eyes bruised and dull.
Javier sighed. "Great. Spirits. Think you can take them on?"
The other shook his head. "Not alone. I have to pull favor... some other Tong exiles here owe me. Maybe they can help."
"And I think I can get Amad to tap other wizards. One or two owe us," Javier mused. At that point, a frantic signal came in.
Javier's eyes grew wide. "We've lost contact with Bill and Gretch... we... let's go. I'm calling Tom."
Jade Tiger nodded. "I need to get supplies. To replenish."
Tom, for the fourth time, whispered, "I really don't like this."
Javier had never seen Tom like this. His eyes darted from place to place. Jade Tiger didn't notice, covered with talismans and almost glowing with power. From past experience, Javier knew Jade Tiger would be laid up for months by this effort.
Javier sighed inwardly. Bill was an expert with sensor systems. Javier's equipment was not nearly so advanced, even with the extra gear Amad had procured. It was slow going. He kept getting readings that seemed spurious.
Amad might be the planner and fixer of the team, but Javier was the head. It was his idea to have Bill and Gretchen scout out potential hot spots of Evil activity, to follow up the rumors and meager information they had. It was his responsibility. A voice drew him out of his reverie.
"What was that, Tom?"
Tom looked at Javier. "What was what?"
"You just... um." Javier looked around, trying to place the source of the whispers. He couldn't quite make them out. Jade Tiger peered at him, then stepped over, handing him a disk. Javier took it, then gasped in surprise as his systems blinked warnings and shut down.
"What the hell was that, JT??" Javier looked at the dark metal disk in his hand. Sinuous engraved lines traced out the Elder Sign. "I can't have this, it really fucks with my hypertech..."
"What did you hear?" Jade Tiger's bright green eyes were sharp, intent on him.
"Um... whispers... they seem to have stopped... oh." Javier looked at the disk. The Elder Sign didn't just suppress hypertech.
Tom handed him a pistol silently.
They didn't look like large insects, after all. Javier looked over the trio. The walls gleamed creamy white, light slanting in from delicate arches and intricately carved walls. Chimes tinkled softly in a sweet breeze. Three girls, no more than ten, sat at the end of the long room, dressed in black gowns with white lace. Each was rotund, smiling from pink cheeks, faces framed by long black tresses.
"Oh, hello, good sir!" said the middle, clapping her hands. "Will you play with us?"
Javier bowed. "I have no time for such things. We are looking for some little girls."
"Las Gorditas?" said the girl to the right, coyly. A lacy black fan hid her face. "We may know of such things."
"They have disappeared, and their families miss them greatly," Javier responded, fingering the jeweled hilt of his sword.
"That is quite a shame!" said the girl to the left, hands on her cheeks, looking disconsolate. "Lay here, and tell us more." Javier stepped forward, only to be checked by a hand on his sleeve. He turned.
Jade Tiger, robes aswirl in color, regarded him with his emerald eyes. In velvety tones, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"These women, here... they..."
"They are consumers of spirit. They are creatures of death," Jade Tiger snarled. The girls laughed softly.
"But... we need them! To guide us to Andalucia!" Javier exclaimed.
Jade Tiger looked confused for a moment, then cursed. "We'll never get to Andalucia. They are here to deceive us! The king... the king told us the proper path! We must gather the seven rubies."
"We can help you! We know of three of the rubies... we are willing to give them to you! Just sit, tell us stories!" the girls cried.
Javier pulled Jade Tiger over. "We must. Else the poor children are doomed."
"Yes, yes!" cried the girls.
Javier sat next to one of the girls, her sweet perfume filling him. He looked at the delicate walls. A cold wind passed over him.
He watched the walls darken and peel. The air suddenly became heavy with the cloying stink of rotting flesh, clouded with a swarming haze of flies. He blinked.
Beside him, three shapes yowled like cats, swollen pale figures atop a pile of bones, with many many legs. Javier gaped at the sight. What strange show was this? His pants were soaked, his hands cut from the sharp edges below him. He could see Jade Tiger, surrounded by pale coils.
"I greet you, my merry queens!" bellowed the man. Squat, with a wide, scarred face, his head was shaven on one side. A chip gleamed from the bare scalp. Lifting a thick-fingered hand, he bowed to the trio, who continued to yowl.
"As one monarch to another, I have but a simple request. These three, my loyal subjects, have possibly caused offense. I will have them back," the man announced. Javier suddenly recalled the face. It was Jose Arnoldo Galan. His mind grew more clear.
One sinuous form curled downward, jaws long and toothed like a gar. Eyes gleamed full, black as ink. A voice issued, "Ariste, they are in our domain. You are but human. We are ancient. Begone."
Jose Arnoldo rapped the creature on the nose. It growled and shifted. One of the other creatures bumped it with the flat of its head, whispering, "He is of the Aristouj. Those outside. We will be consumed if he stays."
The middle figure arched up, long white belly, pulsing. From a great height, it stared down. "You may have them, fool-king! Just... begone."
Jose nodded regally, then stepped carefully over to Jade Tiger. He helped him out of the loosening coils, stepping down. Then he picked his way over to Javier. All the while, bulbous eyes watched from silent figures.
Tom was trussed up in some cords, requiring Javier to form a force blade and cut him loose. Tom, head down, followed the others out without a word.
Walking down dark corridors, Javier tried to ignore the stench soaked into him. A shower, medical antiseptics, and immune boosters were definitely in order. He went over plans and details in his mind, ignoring the surging terror. He said softly, "What about Bill and Gretchen?"
Jose looked back, still smiling. "Oh? I saw some others... they were beyond my help, I'm afraid, young man."
"What?" Javier finally began to feel something beyond basic revulsion. "What do you mean?"
Tom said quietly, "They are brooding." His eyes were lidded and distant.
Javier looked at Tom's gray face. "Brooding?"
Tom frowned slightly. "Like eggs. Within them."
Javier drew a shaky breath, which only brought in more of the stench. He coughed. "And... and this 'king'... what the hell? What the fuck?"
Jade Tiger laid a trembling hand on his arm. "He is infected. They fear that infection. Nothing more."
Jose laughed as he led his subjects.
8
Sacrifice
Javier sat, staring at the wall. The door opened, and Jade Tiger entered, holding a cup of tea. He looked at Javier.
"Still nothing?" Jade Tiger asked softly.
"I think Amad has abandoned us. We are... unclean."
Jade Tiger nodded slightly, sipping again.
Tom spoke from the couch, still laid out where he had gone to sleep the night before.
"There is only one thing left."
The pair waited as Tom propped himself up on his elbows. His face was as caked dust, an unliving surface within which two eyes burned.
"Revenge."
The particulars took some sorting out. Javier was pretty sure that no other Hand would treat with them, now that Amad had spread the word. At least, none that was at all safe to deal with. They felt no particular animosity toward Amad. With everything that had happened, hives of cultists and horrors hidden in the bowels of the city, it was natural that they be exiled. They could have fled, but none of them did. It was the way of things.
The twist was Tom's idea. The one thing las gorditas had feared was the influence of the outside, the taint of the Yellow King. Maybe that, with some idea of what they faced, would be sufficient.
Jose, for his part, was more than happy to help.
It took time to track the new nest of las gorditas, and to use every dangerous contact they could to secure safe passage through the intervening territories. In the end, they had little left but what they carried.
"There is no price, Javier! You are so suspicious a man. No, I have no chips for you; I will not summon any 'hordes' to take you. You have been good, trying to find my daughter. I like that, you are a good man. Perhaps I should knight you..."
Javier gave him a look. Jose just laughed.
Jade Tiger had the look of centuries about him. A man setting out for his own funeral. Tom looked much the same, though the weaponry on his sling and the set in his jaw indicated his plan to drag others to hell with him. They left timed messages concerning las gorditas, in case they failed.
"There is no price, Senor Galan, except dealing with you," Javier snapped. Jose laughed.
"Ah, Javier, Javier... you shall see. It will all be better, in my kingdom."
In the end, the battle was surprisingly brief. Tom's blessed bullets and Javier's souped-up Force whip worked well. Through it all, illusions and distractions just shed off of them. Whether from Jade Tiger's magic or some influence of Jose's, the pale figures seemed dazed, reacting slowly to attacks.
Jose just stood, watching the action with a slight smile.
Then, finally, las gorditas were nothing more than bleeding, inert forms that slowly corroded away.
Jade Tiger performed special rites over the swollen victims. Javier turned away as black fluid drained from them, as unholy shapes within shuddered and died with each burning word.
Tom was the first to notice. "Javier... we have a problem."
Javier looked over, dully. He was considering what to do next. Their only chance lay in transport to a new arcology, hoping that their suspect status would fade and they could try to build a new life. There were a lot of burned bridges, however.
"Gretchen isn't here."
"What? What??"
"She's not here. I checked. Every other recent victim is here. I found Bill and Isabel Galan. But no Gretchen."
Javier looked over the torn bodies. Bill's body was easy to identify. Although the milsuit was missing, his boyish face was easy to recognize. Even with the swelling around the eyes.
"I think I know where she is," commented Jose quietly. Javier whirled around, staring at him. Jose smiled.
"She called, I think. She found one of the doorways. She escaped las gorditas. I think some of the others did, too."
"Escaped? To where?" Javier snapped, though he knew what the man would say.
"To my kingdom. I can bring you to her."
9
Paradise
The three were in agreement. There weren't many other options. They couldn't hide the fact they were traveling with Jose, and that ruined what little credit they had gained with the destruction of las gorditas. Others were waiting for any mistake on their part, ready to destroy them. Only the sheer size of the arcology and a certain degree of courtesy protected them.
They knew it was suicide. They should have fled to another arcology, as difficult as it would be, or strike out into the towns and cities beyond the arcologies.
The three didn't discuss it. Jade Tiger had fled the Tong, a situation he had never spoken of in any detail. Tom had a past he preferred to forget. Javier had mistakes and failures he wished he could forget.
There was only one thing left to them.
"It will be difficult, but I can find a doorway. I'm sure I can."
Tom looked Jose over. "You sound unsure."
Jose smiled faintly. "I've never... never actually gone to the kingdom. I know they are waiting for me... I know they will help. I will stay and you three will return, I assure you."
Javier sighed. "Whatever. Let's go."
They had studied what it was safe to know about the King in Yellow's domain. The eternal twilight, the misty lake, the dark suns that hung eternal in the colorful sky. None of it seemed particularly useful.
Then they stood, before a wooden door set in the depths of the arcology, far away from any human voices. Jose opened the door.
Four went in. Jose led them through empty streets and black windows for silent hours. In a dimly lit gallery, they found Gretchen, painting with a dry brush. There were others, recognized from datafiles, safe here in the heart of Carcosa.
Javier knew they were doomed at that point. The three turned, silently, to the large mirror. The three regarded their reflections. Jade Tiger, the shortest, stood to Javier's right. Tom, the tallest, stood to his left.
Tom laughed once, hollowly, as they took up their windings and, as Jose had assured them, returned. Three, in ancient, decaying cloth. To spread the word.
It was the way of things.