Another meeting. This one, I wasn’t looking forward to. I straightened, adjusted my collar, and made sure my hair wasn’t all out of place. I had changed into a suit for this, because my laboratory fatigues wouldn’t be suitable for this. I chose my favored voice, my sister Kateri. It was one of the ones I defaulted to. Some days, I regretted giving up my voice as a drawback to attaining more magical power, but this wasn’t one of them.
After I was certain that I was presentable enough for the higher ups, I turned the dials of the rotary phone in the center of the circular, stainless steel room, activating the magic latent within it.
I was able to call all three of them at once. I was still working on a way to add a visual element to more then one individual at once, without obvious magical influence. A project I planned to pursue when the new world order was established. I’d changed into these nicer clothes for the mentality, but it would be nice for those I was speaking to from this remote place to be able to see the effort I had put it. Though, I suppose, in the case of one of the people I was speaking to, she may still be able to.
Each of them picked up around the time. Director Raymond Kraus of the OAA, Harriet Payne, Vice Chair of the System, and Angela Cantwell, Secretary of State to Spencer Cross.
“Conciliator Tyrell.” Said Kraus, his voice stern, and as always, sounding like he’d just rubbed his throat down with sandpaper. “I was expecting to hear from you.”
“Indeed.” Said Payne, next. “I heard about the incident at the Pentagon. You seem to have made poor choices in employees.” Her voice was hard to read. Angelas, on the other hand, was not.
“I’ve already filed a report to the President’s desk. But there’s still time to amend it, if you want to keep your job, Conciliator. What is being tone to remedy this situation?”
I hated her terribly I had hoped she would have lost her job in the staffing purges after the ’88 election, but she was one of the few people President Cross had kept in his cabinet.
I swallowed my pride, and kept speaking.
“The two scientists did not realize that the stolen technology have secondary trackers. I’ve engaged them since being informed of the breech in the Pentagon. They’ve arrived in Baltimore, no doubt for some form of hand off. I intend to personally handle the situation with the resources at my disposal. I make no requests for further help at this time.”
I was calm, I was measured, I was reasonable. There would be no reason for them to reprimand me, yet.
“You understand that this breech will no doubt, in some form or another, compromise the security of the Cross administration, and all of it’s projects? In the eighty minutes it took for the theft to be detected, they could have contacted or shared who knows what.”
Director Kraus was harsh, but correct.
“Which is why I will handle it personally. They will be interrogated by my personal techniques, and I will use what they divulge to mend this security breech.” I was still confident. Through all of this.
“Can you really be trusted to handle this, given your record? I’m certain that Miss Payne could inform the Overmind to dispatch some of her finest to handle the problem. Or, Director Kraus, we could dispatch a fleet of your agents to Baltimore within the hour. We have more options then one Conciliator.”
Angela continued to be the largest thorn in my oversight committee. Thankfully, one way or another, Harriet had my back.
“I’m afraid not. The Overmind is busy on the other litany of tasks. Four domestic rebellions, two foreign coups, and one front facing invasion that require her direct involvement. Diverting resources from her organization at this time would be ill advised.”
I avoided the sigh of relief that came to my lips, especially after Kraus spoke next.
“OAA agents are not for domestic, human threats. We have no indication of this being an occult threat, yet. I say we let the Conciliator handle it. There is no purpose in hamstringing our efforts when they can respond within the hour.”
Within the hour was doing a lot of heavy lifting. I would have to do my best.
“Of course I can, sir. Within the hour.” I echoed. Angela sighed, long and loud, clearly disliking this.
“Oh fine. But if you mess this up, you’re being replaced by someone who can actually fulfill the original vision for the project. Is that clear, Conciliator?” Her voice held untold malice that I chose to swallow down and ignore. I had spent my entire life dealing with people who’d wished to see me fail, and I could do it for a bit longer.
“Thank you, Secretary, Director, Vice Chair. I will not let you down. But I have one further inquiry.”
“Speak.” Said the Director.
“Presuming I recover the chip. It is the final element required to activate the first full stage of Project Troy. Do I have your permission to initiate it the moment I am able?”
There was a long silence over the line, to the point that I had wondered if there had been a form of interference on one end or another. I was about to check, when the Vice Chair spoke.
“I don’t see why not. If Project Troy is potentially compromised in secrecy, then it should be activated before anyone can potentially respond.” She was calculated in the way she spoke, as if she didn’t want to say the words she was, yet knew she had to.
“I concur. American dominion over all avenues of this project is integral to our success in the next seven years. Do it, and without a moment to spare.” Director Kraus, as always, sounded just a bit more zealous about it.
“The President has been clear. When he awakens in the morning, I expect to be able to report that everything we’ve been striving for has been achieved. Or, it will be your role in this administration that is in question, Wehinahpay.”
The obvious attempt to degrade me by using my first name didn’t work, I kept cool and composed.
“Then I will be recovering my project and completing it tonight. I thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen of the oversight committee.
“I’ll contact Percival, and make sure he is ready to act whenever the Project is activated. Good evening, Conciliator Tyrell” Said Director Kraus, to my annoyance. Percival didn’t need to be involved. But he hung up a moment later anyways.
“The Overmind will be appraised and monitoring this situation. Good luck, Conciliator Tyrell.” The Vice Chair said that, to my slight unease, before hanging up herself.
“Get it done, Conciliator.” Said Secretary Angela, before she too hung up, and I was alone. I put down the phone, and got ready to get to work.
————————————————————————————
The Maxx, as it was called, had been a known hot spot for supernatural activity for quite some time. I slipped into the club under the sound of throbbing music, and cast under pulsing multicolored lights. I sort of liked places like this, whenever I actually had a day off, which was rarely, if ever.
My agents were still being fabricated in the foundry back at home, and Delta-Silver Squad was still mobilizing. For now, I was alone. But I knew the chip was here. I started to move through the crowd, feeling out with my magic.
It was hard to draw upon the arts of magic while I was being deafened, so i directed the machinery in my ears to stop in taking sound, and for my eyes, artificial as they were, I simply dimmed the color and light spectrum that I was able to take in. I had designed many parts of my body, from organs to senses, to respond to my beck and call. It had been the first test of my thesis back when I had been a member in good standing with the Arcane Society. It had won me an award, but they’d expected me to return to ordinary when it was done.
Idiots. A few metal implants wouldn’t break the ice or shatter the world. I wasn’t exactly walking into Guatemala City or the Walking Vista in my spare time.
Regardless, each of my senses was tuned to my control, and the gold strip that ran up my body helped calibrate the heart, lungs, and the rest. And gave me modular control over anything I could ask, externally. Which, all to say, meant that I could tune out the distractions, as I muttered my spells.
“01000110011010010110111001100100-” I muttered each number in sequence in time with my spell. Speaking in binary was one of the few times I could access my old voice. Not that I missed it much. I’d given up on the latin invocations after my thesis, and had never looked back. Computer code was more powerful then ever-kids didn’t even learn latin in school anymore, some of the time. So, it was optimal for calling upon the power that slumbered beneath the earth, the cables, wires and circuits of the planet, to interface and connect with my desired effect.
My artifact was in the back of the establishment, and on the move. I was about three quarters of the way across the room when I started to hear the screams.
I turned around, and saw the giant wolf feasting on the bodies of two club security members. That was a new one. People began to scatter, as the giant creature began to lumber through the crowd, followed by someone I was fairly certain was wearing a cowboy hat like it was Halloween.
I ducked down, and pulled up my hood, as the first purple fireball was thrown, and I saw someone with a sword run down the hallway where my chip was moving quickly down. My ears communicated to my brain that there had been gunshots without actually hearing the roaring noise, which would have been distracting.
I nearly ran down the hall after everyone, when I took a moment of pause. No. Rushing into things wouldn’t solve it. I turned back, and saw the cowboy impersonator again. They were holding…severed heads. Severed heads I recognized. Which made me shrink back to the corner, muttering under my breath.
“0100001101100001011101000110010101100111011011110111001001101001011110100110010100100000”
I paired my vocal inputs with tactile ones into my palms, deferring some of the burden of my next spell to my biocomputer, another project that was linked to my body. I’d completed it in my final year with the Arcane Society, I had arranged my artificial organs, my existing tissue, and my own bio electricity into sets of electrical inputs and switches that formed a one megabyte computer. It had started out as 24 byte, and as I invested more magical power into it, it’s capabilities enhanced. It was a recurring magical battery, which helped when I was trying to cast this next spell.
It concludes, as I tuned out the fireballs, gunshots, and who knows what else. My previous spell was helpfully informing me that the Fundamental Chip was rapidly leaving my vicinity, but I ignored in favor of this new one.
Currently within a radius of the chip were two humans, with drivers licenses and social security numbers, Oliver Pietro Elliot, and Senator Steven Garrison. In hot pursuit was a woman carrying papers that identified her as Amanda Gilligan, but there were heavy discrepancies in that. Nearby was a magical life form with a flimsy human cover of “Billy King”, but was actually a Transgressor by the name of-I got an error. Damnation. In the main room was a Pythoness Breed vampire, and three complex animistic spirits. None of them had any files in government databases I could access. Then, there was a demon, pure bred, with a mortal alias of Neil Leland, a little less flimsy then “Billy King” over there. My biocomputer helpfully informed me that he was listed as the registered owner of this establishment. That was something.
I should have figured Garrison as involved from the start. He was always digging for anything he could use to get one over the current President, and he and his sham political party often stuck their noses where it most definitely did not belong. I assumed this Oliver Pietro Elliot was an employee, and he was in closest proximity to the case.
The rest of these people were complete unknowns. I began running a search routine on “Amanda Gilligan” since that seemed easiest. In the meantime, I wove a cloaking spell over myself, making it exceptionally easy for me to overlooked by those battling it out. I wanted to see what was going on, here.
The life scan of the Pythoness was giving me more and more intriguing results as time went on. And here I thought that Pythoness were all biologically the same. The more you knew. The spirits she was wielding were exceptionally strong, too. I began cataloging, as I formulated my next move.
It only took a few moments, for the fight in the main room to cease, with the demon laying sprawled in the center of the room, and the giant wolf starting to prowl down the hall. I made myself imperceptible to the senses of the Pythoness who was methodically walking down the halls, an easy enough trick now that I had more information. She would have good smell, and good hearing. I could ignore both, with a bit of fine tuning.
I walked over to the fallen demon, as I initiated another search through government records. None of the essential stuff had been digitized, I’d been asking for years. So I’d uploaded everything I had access to to about four thousand custom drives that my biocomputer was connected to. It was slow to comb through, and had a constant tax on what powers I could access, but in my opinion, it was well worth it.
Especially, when it came to situations like this. Demons were creatures of law, at least the pure bred ones. Which meant a trick like this was an easy thing to muster.
I leaned down next to him. Smiling silver teeth which were inlaid with circuit boards and small storage drives. I spoke in the voice of my old mentor, Johnny McLain.
“You took out a telephone plan under your alias of Neil Leland without disclosing your demonic nature. As you are in violation of your contract, via the telecommunication disclosure act of 1987, I bind you.”
And just like that, it was done. The independence left his eyes.
Always read the fine print.
————————————————————————————
I sent my new pet demon back to one of his personal penthouses. I would interrogate him later. For now, I had a relatively good opening to potentially intercept my chip. I would need to be careful, given it’s properties. I wouldn’t want it absorbing any new contaminants. I’d specifically chosen the data on it, to best catalyze the activation of Project Troy, if any of it was tampered with…
That meant I couldn’t just butcher everyone between me and my beloved creation. I would have to play it smart. As I had gone over my next move, I was suddenly very glad that nothing like this would ever be able to happen again after tonight.
Regardless. I re-calibrated my tracking spell, after commandeering a local call center. To my least bit of surprise, the chip had been taken to the offices of Senator Garrison. I cleared the room of any pesky employees, and began my own work, reaching out with magic through the electrical network of the city, the phone lines, and once again got a symbolic understanding of what was going on. Mr. Elliot was upstairs in the office proper. No sign of Senator Garrison. The Pythoness was in the parking deck, clashing with what I assumed was the Transgressor, still no luck in figuring out his aspect. Though the mystery itself was partially illuminating. I was running mental calculus in the background of my biocomputer.
I decided it was time to make my move. Luckily, around this time, Mr. Elliot tried to call 9.1.1. I intercepted it, and picked up the phone, choosing the voice of my sister again.
“Oliver Pietro Elliot.”
I said, making my information advantage clear as day.
“You’re in incredible danger, aren’t you?” I said, starting to get a glimpse of what was at the other end of the line. I was submerged in my own focus.
His desperate voice came in through the other end of the line but a moment later.
“-Who are you, how did you know that? I need help over here, send someon-“
I cut him off. Keeping a level of sweetness in my voice.
“I would be happy to help you, Oliver. Do you have the chip with you?”
“…Who are you?” He asked, as I finally got my full picture of his current state. He was bleeding bad. He’d need intensive medical care soon, if he didn’t want to lose one of his arms. I could use that.
“Do you want to bleed to death over the next few hours? Do you want to be eaten alive? Do you want to be thrown into a Banality Center? If the answer to these is no, you’ll answer my questions. Do you. Have. The chip?”
I pressed, and pressed. I didn’t have the power for much of this, but circumstances were everything.
He broke.
“I have it! I have it, ok?! Why do you even care?”
I smiled to myself.
“Good. Stay on the line, and I can help you. Have you touched the chip? Damaged it?”
I asked, a little bit accusingly. But he stayed on the line.
“No. It’s still intact. Look, the Senator is dead, I don’t want it, I don’t need it. It’s yours if you just send some damn help! There’s monsters here, freaks all around. I’m going to need a new job anyways so just-“
I didn’t let myself breath a sigh of relief, to preserve the mystery.
I cut him off again.
“And do you have the stolen files?”
The other important part to all this. I hadn’t been as focused on it, but they were still a cognitohazard of the highest order.
“The what?” He said, obviously lying.
“There were files taken along with the chip. Detailing it’s creation, it’s purpose, all of it. Do you have them?”
I pressed, as if I were speaking to a child who was hiding candy.
And he exploded.
“Why do you care? Look, send some help, and I’ll give you anything! Until then, I’m done talking!”
He hung up. I could force the phone to pick back up, but I needed to take better measures then that, now. I concentrated, and spoke under my breath.
“01010100011000010110101101100101001000000110110101100101”
For a moment, I distorted. And then I was gone from the call center.
I manifested in the space, and chose to place myself in the front desk. I had small margins of control when it came to matters of feet, and mild positioning tricks. I lounged back into this very nice chair that Garrison had chosen to give his help, present, nice and dramatically, for when Oliver turned around.
“You asked why I cared, Oliver?”
I asked him, with a smile. His discomfort was obvious, even in the dark.
“It’s because I made it.”
I spoke in my mentor’s voice again. I smiled, shining my entire mouth.
“You wanted help. Here I am. Are you going to give me the chip, and the files now?”
I spoke in my assistant’s voice. I was trying to unnerve. Keep him on edge. And it was working. I could see it in his eyes.
“…You’re the Wand? The one who made the chip?” He asked, saying the slur as if it was second nature. I frowned.
“You’re rude for a dying man.” I said, in my niece’s voice. ““I made the chip. It’s my life’s work. How, isn’t the point. Give it to me, if you would.” An older woman’s voice this time, the janitor who worked upstairs with no grandkids and lots of gossip.
He caved.
“…I don’t have the files. I dropped them when that psycho ladies bird attacked me. They should be on the garage level. Or she has them. But she was dressed like a cowboy, and had a pet anaconda, or some shit, so she can’t be that hard to find.”
He moved around the room, to now be in front of me.
So, the Pythoness probably had the files. Probably the better of the options of the people I’d been confronted with tonight. Who knows if she could even read it, between singing with the animals and being raised by wolves.
He kept talking. Foolish boy.
“But, if you made it, you probably don’t need whatever was in those files, right?”
He sounded woefully optimistic.
“It’s a matter of security. You understand this, working-or, apologies, having worked for Senator Garrison. I can’t just have my documentation of my life’s work in anyone’s hands. But it’s out of yours, now, so no matter.”
Angela’s voice, this time. I’d recreated it to steal some of her access codes awhile back.
I also just assumed Steven Garrison was dead. Where would he have gone?
At this point, I clocked the elevator. The electrical impulses in the building firing. Hm. So, we had company incoming.
Oliver had the case in his hand. I just had to get it from him.
He kept talking.
“Fair, I guess. I don’t suppose you’re hiring?”
He grinned at me, clearly stalling. Did he think whoever was in the elevator could save him?
I shaped one finger into a long bladelike protrusion, and pointed it at him.
I smiled. Nice and wide.
“No. I don’t need you for anything else then cover.” I said, as I manifested Steven Garrison’s voice to my lips, and fired off my finger like a rocket.
It pierced through him, and flew straight towards the Transgressor who had just come out of the elevator.
Unfortunately for my future workload, he didn’t release the case before he died. I’d decontaminate it later, unfortunately, for now, I had bigger problems. Though, the vindictive part of me was glad he hadn’t let go.
There were two entities in the room. The Transgressor, who had just ducked my finger, and drawn out a blade, and another. An invisible watcher…I looked around, and saw her, a pale woman in a white dress. I activated some countermeasures. And best of all, sapped her voice, and tapped into what she was saying.
“The hell is this?” Asked the Transgressor.
“Human, I think. Magically augmented. I haven’t seen much like it. Trying to…figure out more…”
Said the other woman. She was starting to feel the dampening. I’d dealt with too many ghosts to not have something in place for more intangible things.
“I’m no one special.” I said, in the woman’s voice. “Just hear for what’s mine.”
The idea that I could here her clearly perturbed the transgressor.
I had stood up, and was moving to grab the case from Oliver’s dying or dead body, I wasn’t dedicating the energy to check. Unfortunately, the Transgressor’s reflexes were still sharp.
He reached to his back, and pulled out a throwing knife, silver, but partially covered in blood, hurling it at me. Specifically, my hand. I redirected some of the metal. It struck, and sent a shower of sparks instead of blood when it sunk in.
“Sorry, freak, that’s mi-“ He started to say, as I pointed my four fingered hand at him.
“01000010011001010010000001110011-“
There was a burst of sparks, as my incapacitation spell took effect. He went flying into the wall. He’d be out for a little while, I had paralyzed the magic that was at the core of him. Which meant I could dispose of him, and whatever sin he represented, quite easily.
“Ah. I see now. A transgressor. But which one, I wonder. All of the actually scary ones are dead or condemned. Except Murder. But I doubt you’re him.” I said, in my mentor’s voice again. I was trying to make it seem like I hadn’t done any research. “I suppose I could bind you. That was a good throw. And it would be a shame to waste whoever you are.” I began to methodically approach. I wasn’t sure if I could even bind a creature like this. I’d have to see. Though maybe better just to kill him.
I reached towards him with my now completed metal covered hand, when, suddenly, my spell shattered, as if under strain from forces unknown. I reeled back, but not in time to avoid a full fronted kick to my center of pass, which sent me flying backwards a few paces. He pulled his sword back to his hand, looking cocky. I was keen to correct this mentality, personally.
He pointed the blade at me, and spoke with all the bravado I imagined he could muster.
“Give me both your fancy hands, or you’re going out that window.”
Hm. Interesting. Another data point.
I smiled.
“Clever. Intimidation, Conspiracy…maybe Marauding? I imagine my choices are give you the hands, or you get a better chance of getting me out the window. Do I have it right?”
He didn’t budge. I had to be somewhere in the ballpark. There was magic in the words he spoke. A mild compulsion to disconnect my hands.
“Unfortunately. I made these devices by hand, no pun intended. So I’ll take my chances.”
I spread my arms, and readied a spell. I hadn’t been ready for what had occurred next.
He hurled his sword like a throwing blade. Except, it wasn’t, and it shouldn’t. I knew he would get a bit of a helping shove from me not giving him my hands, but I hadn’t expected to be struck in the skull with the pommel of the sword, causing the destructive spell I prepared to unleash to ripple outwards in destructive unchained force, shattering the window behind me. Before I could fix my vision, or correct anything else for that matter, he pulled out a gun and shot me in the chest.
I went flying out the window, half stumbling. Cold wind whipped at me, as I was helpfully made aware of the disruption a bullet posed to my biocomputer’s systems. I pulled another spell into motion, and barely managed to pull myself out of the way of the ground before impact.
————————————————————————————
I reconvened at the penthouse. With a bit of clever tweezer work I managed to get the bullet free and mend over the wound with a bit of liquid metal. My new pet demon sat obediently on the couch, spilling his entire plans, nature, and general demeanor to me. I’d summoned a few additional bits of help, the first Agents had been formed from the foundry back home. I’d have an army within a couple of hours.
He was Leonidas the Pleonektein, son of Daemon. His interest in my chip had come when his very father, the mighty king of all that could call themselves demons, directed him to hire someone to retrieve it. It seemed the cognitohazard of it all went deeper then just my staff. A bit of leverage to use for later. The man he’d hired was the Transgressor who represented Banditry, which meant I had been fairly close with my guess of Marauding. So, really, no one particularly dangerous. He’d gotten the edge over me once, something that would not be happening again. He also divulged the location of the Transgressors lair, which in turn, helped me find his phone number. I probably couldn’t pull the same telecommunications act trick again, given that he was an incarnation of a crime. Though maybe the rule of law hadn’t lost it’s grip entirely just yet.
I had heard enough from him to get a cool peel of his voice, so I called the number without much hesitation.
“‘Sup” I heard the Transgressor say, upon picking up.
“Band.” I said, using his nickname, in his voice. “Do you have the case?”
“Course I do. You owe me my bonus, though. You ok? They were swarming the Maxx last I saw. Oink oink, and all that. A real pigst-“
I cut him off before he could babble on any more.
“The Maxx isn’t safe. It’s compromised tenfold. We need to meet for the hand off, secondary location. You know the Penthouse on 4th? Where I hosted that delegation?”
Another tidbit I’d pried from my captive.
“How could I forget. When should I meet you?” He asked, indignantly.
“As soon as you can. Leave now. I’ll be waiting.”
I hung up, before I could potentially tip him off. I lounged back in my chair with a faint smile clinging to my face. All I had to do now was wait.
I spent the next hour or so reading my latest book, “Shadowy Precursors” by Doctor Lanigan of the Arcane Society, one of the few people I begrudgingly respected in the field of traditional magic. The rest of them, especially the Council of Eight, were by and large enemies of my craft. I’d renounced my membership, and it was by the providence of Uncle Sam that I’d survived till now with them as my enemy.
A shame, because their resources were nice, when I’d had them.
I was stirred from my contemplative and academic study by the sound of a bomb going off.
I stood instantly, which was a mistake. As the agents hurried into the next room, something struck me in the neck, sourced from the hall bathroom. Instantly, my biocomputer, my internal systems, everything remotely magical, simply ceased. I felt my internal body starting to twist, and reject what was within it. My failsafes kicked in not a moment too soon. Banditry lunged out, blade ready to cut my throat. I turned up, and snapped my fingers. Leonidas jumped to my defense, a plume of fire interceding between me and my attacker.
I turned to him, and addressed him in Leonidas’s voice.
“Last chance to hand over the case. You brought it with you, didn’t you?”
“Of course I didn’t.” He remarked, without a hint of being casual. “It’s halfway across the globe by now.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I can sense my own artifacts, Bandit.” I said, which was true, but not right now, given the disruption through my system. What had he hit me with?
He took in a long sigh.
“Leo, you owe me big time.”
My three-now four, agents, returned from investigating the blast. I decided to try something, to test a theory.
“Agents. Arrest this Bandit on his various charges, on my authority as part of the OAA.”
Technically true on all accounts. Hopefully, metaphysically speaking, that gave my charges at edge. I took a step back, to let the battle unfold, as I slowly, but surely, managed to reignite my biocomputer, the least magical thing about me, and got it searching what the hell was wrong with me. I closed my eyes in focus, and let things play out. My demon and my agents would protect me.
Slowly but surely, I began to get options. Poisons and toxins of a magical nature were a dime a dozen, but the sort that could interfere with my biomechanics? Much more rare. My possible options narrowed to ten, then nine, then eight…
I heard the sound of a horse, then the sound of a horse being incinerated.
No attention on me yet. Good. I kept focusing in.
Seven, then six, then five…
I felt the phantasmal heat the demon’s techniques produced. I’m sure he had more efficient tricks in his arsenal, but this one wouldn’t stretch the binding, and would kill all the same.
Four, then three, then two.
I opened my eyes, and saw that all of my agents were dispersed to empty suits and a few misplaced handguns. Both Leonidas and Bandit were looking at me. The binding was gone, I could see it in his eyes. I hadn’t even felt it.
The toxin had been isolated. Russian Pandemonium Dissolution Agent. I forced the biocomputer to stay connected, and start fabricating an antidote, but without the rest of my magic, I was going to need to stall for time. I looked to the two of them.
I tossed the dart aside.
“I didn’t expect quite so much from a mere Transgressor. Good work, Bandit.”
Assert that I knew his nature. Ignore the demon. My mentor’s voice rung in the room.
He spun his blade around idly.
“Yeah yeah. You can reward my good behavior by letting me take your head off.”
“I’m at your mercy.” I said, thinly smiling. “My magic still isn’t back. What did you hit me with?”
“Well, I-” He began, only for the demon to raise a hand. He’d likely caught wise.
“No more talk.” He said, igniting his hand, and preparing to hurl purple flame towards me.
“If you insist. But, Bandit, the chip, please?” I pressed him, making eye contact, and being affirmative in my demands.
“This again?” He exclaimed, childishly. The demon threw his first fireball, I stepped out of the way. I still had good reflexes, magic or no.
“You’re not seriously going to give it to a demon?” I used my niece’s voice again, even though I was pretty sure the appeal to emotion would fall flat with him. He swung his blade at me in the same stroke, and I dodged.
“Whatever gets me paid.” He replied, swinging again, closer to my hand, it pinged off the metal.
“If you complete this job, you’ll never get paid again.” A half true retort. I withdrew a small trinket from my belt, and hurled it. The needle soared through the air, only to be partially and then fully deflected away from Bandit. Another fireball forced me back to the wall. But I had gotten into the groove of dodging. Just had to keep it up, a little longer.
“The hell are you on about?” He demanded. “Leo can’t burn me, especially not now.” His bravado was adorable. He thrust, and then cut. His cut drew black oily blood from my side. It slowed down my biocomputer, but not by much.
“Oh? He didn’t tell you who this job was for, did he?” Back to the voice of my assistant.
“It doesn’t matter who the client is.” He said, pulling his blade back. He had an opening for a potentially hampering blow. “None of my Not my business.”
I had one more appeal, one more card. If this didn’t shake him, I’d just have to let him stab me and hope things panned out from there.
“Then it won’t bother you to know that his father-“ I began, looking towards Leonidas. “-Is the client?”
That got everyone to stop. Thank goodness.
He held his blade up, on guard.
“What the fuck? Daemon wants that thing?” He said, almost in disbelief.
“The case has a chip. The chip is the capstone to a very important project. But even on it’s own, it could change the world. Or, in Daemon’s case, bend it to his will.”
I was guessing. But I knew what I intended it for, and it was certainly to bend the world to my will, after a fashion.
The demon had frozen. Perfect, he’d appear guilty. Bandit looked over at him.
“This true?” He asked.
“I fetch artifacts for him all the time. The world hasn’t ended yet. Besides, he seemed more interested in the President NOT having it.”
He might be telling the truth, there. But the seed of doubt had been sown.
“What can this chip even do?” Bandit asked me. “You made it, right?”
I nodded.
“I did. A stroke of genius. It’s capable of so much, but I imagine all Daemon cares about is being able to forge magic through-“
I’d spurned the demon into action, because he hurled a fireball at me before I could finish explaining my magnum opus. I wasn’t able to dodge this time. I went flying backwards into another wall, phantasmal fire licking my body. Bandit had evidently been spurned into action, because he stepped forward to cut me down. I however, realized where I was. So I laughed. The wall was blown open from the battle. And the antidote had just been distributed into my system.
Bandit skewered me in the lower abdomen. My body flared with pain, and sudden shock at the coldness and wrongness of a foreign object like that being stabbed through me. It was probably the closest to dying I’d gotten in quite some time. But he didn’t stop me. Not really.
I reached my hand into the wall nearby, and grabbed a handful of wires, frayed and broken by the battle. I channeled my magic through the works of man, technology, and suddenly, I had an awareness of the extent of our works. I pulled on it, found my destination, and in a burst of sparks, light, and power, pulled myself to far away safety, leaving my beloved artifact behind.
————————————————————————————
I was forced into leaving the field for at least a few hours, while machines and magic went to work on repairing my skewered guts and scorched flesh. Growing new hair alone would take at least twenty minutes in my laboratory. So I set to conducting my invisible war from a distant. I dispatched agents to tail the Pythoness, and consumed more to fuel my next tracking spell, which I distributed through phone lines, traffic cameras, and all sorts of other technology.
The Transgressor no longer had the case. He’d lost it before he’d even left the penthouse building. It brought me no small amount of joy. My proximity tracking informed me that instead, “Amanda Gilligan” had the chip, now. So, I directed my search through government records, scanning her alias on a traffic camera, and hurling into my search directory.
Low and behold, I found more then I’d ever thought.
Claire Armstrong Vayun. Age 32. Highly suspected to be an Operative in the Wheel international group, a supposedly dead conspiracy of monster hunters that was pushed out by the UN when they got in on it. Found on the scene of various high profile anomaly cases. Married to Aubre Yvonne Vayun, a librarian currently living in Michigan, where the pair had been married. The first state in the Union to legalize that sort of thing.
I sent my search inquiry next after her wife, and turned my attention back to my monitoring. The Pythoness was hot on her trail, so I had my agents hamper her rather then simple monitoring. Based on trajectory, Claire was headed for the train station. I intended to let the mere human with no supernatural ties hold onto the case for as long as possible, frankly.
So, I let her get on her train, and made sure the Pythoness couldn’t follow her. I hoped to eliminate the vampire then and there, but unfortunately, the Bandit had other plans. It seemed they were working together. A shame.
I examined which train Claire was on, and was intrigued to find that it was headed for New York State, where I was. Were she actually part of the mythical Wheel, I wouldn’t put it past them to know I was here. And knowing their temperament, they’d certainly have ordered her to see it destroyed, the one place it could be. Here
The chip wasn’t durable by itself. But I could always make another. And Project Troy would continue. But any hater of the supernatural, or supernatural themselves, would have an active interest in stopping me. So I chose to operate with that as my assumption, and also assuming that the Wheel did not have up to date and full intelligence, because if they did, they’d be acting with more precision and less urgency.
I also knew that the supernatural faction in this, the Transgressor, Demon, and Vampire, would be invested in reacquiring the chip, especially if any of them had the missing data.
I weighed my options, and decided there was nothing to do but wait. Manifesting agents on the train wouldn’t get me anywhere, a trained monster hunter could fight off my puppets with guns. But she couldn’t reach me without my say so.
I needed my true enemies to act. And act they did.
The exertion of power over the train was obvious. The barrier between earth and the power beneath it’s surface waned and cracked slightly under the force of it, but luckily, thanks to the speed of the train, it was distributed fairly evenly. Nothing that couldn’t be repaired by some experts and no further incidents.
I placed a tracker on Claire’s vital signs, and waited. Pushing my power to maintaining other tasks.
Eventually, they began to dip. Then spiked down off a cliff. Whatever had happened, she’d been on the brink of death. Lucky for me, my systems detected she was nearby a phone. So I gave her a call, as I prepared my peel of her wife’s voice.
And also lucky for me, the dying woman picked up the phone.
“Claire Armstrong Vayun.” I said, in Aubre Vayun’s voice.
Her voice was, in return, delirious and fading.
“…I love you.”
It was almost laughable.
“You’re dying, aren’t you?” I asked the obvious.
“I’m sorry.” She said, and I could picture her all broken and teary eyed.
“That’s ok. I’m going to help you. Just hold onto the phone, and close your eyes.”
She did both of those things, and good, because it meant I was able to save her, and hopefully, the chip.
I pulled her through the phone, while also changing my own position inside the laboratory. An empty room in the medical wing was no longer empty, as the broken body of Claire Vayun appeared on a table, as I hung up the cordless phone I’d been using. She was looking awful. She had a hand missing, her chest was slightly caved in, and she’d been cut up like nothing else.
“Hello Claire.” I said, with a smile. Using a new voice. “I’m going to help you get better. They did a number on you, Bandit and the others. You and me both.” I peeled back my lab coat slightly, to show my still healing battle scars. I hadn’t stayed in my own medical room long enough to heal to full cosmetic glory.
“I know you, and your organization enough to know you do not want to. But if we work together, we can do something vital, something important, and something we can both agree on.”
I switched voices reflexively. I was trying to coax her, so the janitorial lady came out.
She croaked out a single word.
“…What?”
I cupped her remaining hand in both of mine, and smiled as brightly as I could, speaking in Aubre’s voice.
“We can save the world, dearest Claire.”
She lost consciousness. I left the room, and directed the medical machines to start their work.
————————————————————————————
Claire hadn’t held the case, which made things complicated. The Pythoness and the Transgressor had it, in that case. I had to assume they also had the files, since Claire hadn’t had those either, and a small intrusion into her memories indicated no contact with it. Her surgeries were coming along nicely. I’d have her up and moving, better then ever, before she even blinked.
I needed to lure my enemies here. I needed to act before morning, when the President would no doubt get around to my failures, and revoke my permission to activate Troy. Or worse, send oversight to steal my glory. I was going to be the one that brought about this new age. Not for any love of America, or of where I’d come, or even for my own advancement. But to prove that I could change the world. And make it bend per me.
But to do that, I needed the chip. I could produce another one, but the live components would be hard to ethically or unethically source at the last minute, and the magic itself would take time.
It hit me as I was mulling over that possibility. The key to my problems.
My enemies were not smart.
Bandit was cunning, and the Pythoness was worldly, but they were not sorcerers. If they were, most of my tricks and trappings would not have worked. A mage with even one incantation under their breath could easily dispel a thousand of the shadowy agents. So…
They had no idea what I was capable of. And, through my actions with Bandit, he no doubt assumed me more bark then bite.
It was a gamble. But between the two of them, and the demon, they could surely figure out passage here. And if they could, and I could instill them with enough urgency, and they had the context of the files…
A lot of ifs. But I had to try. I called the train. They didn’t answer. So I picked up for them.
“Hello again, Bandit, Pythoness, Leonidas” I said, feeling out what signatures I could beyond the receiver. I spoke in Claire’s voice, to sow a bit of discord in them. No one answered right away, so I continued.
“You’re all quite rude. Not picking up the phone. But, that’s ok. Manners are a taught skill. I’m just calling to tell you, that you win.”
I tried to sound as lamented as I could.
“Who’re we talking to, the inquisitor?” Asked the Pythoness.
Ah, she must mean Claire.
“Oh, sorry, no. Not at all. We haven’t met, Pythoness. I’m the creator whose work you’ve stolen and played hot potato with all night.” I stayed defensive, selling the illusion.
“Wehinahpay Tyrell, I’d guess?” She said, sounding as if it was some kind of achievement to know my name.
“Wow! That’s correct. Knew I shouldn’t have kept my files out in the open. Anyways. As I was saying, you all win. You can keep that chip.” I validated her inquiry and added what I needed.
She continued.
“I’d thank you, but I know it ain’t out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Hm? No, it’s not. It’s just because it’ll be too much effort to retrieve. So I went ahead and cut some corners, and made a new one at my lab, here. I’ll be activating all of the Troy units tonight. You know what they say about rushed work, but you’ve forced my hand. Enjoy your Fundament’s chip! Maybe it can be a mantle ornament, or something.”
I was lying. But my voice was full of false smug victory, that I couldn’t imagine they would see through. And they took the bait, hook line and sinker.
“Yeah, well, I hope your fancy little contraption blows up in your face.” The Pythoness hung up with a slam. And I grinned ear to ear.
It wasn’t long before the case with the chip began to move, and swiftly at that, with some magical interference. They’d found a way to close the distance. Excellent upon excellent. I left the room, and moved for a certain place.
It was high time for me to present my findings, before the entire world changed.
————————————————————————————
I’d had this ritual room set up for quite some time. It was a traditional wizarding circle, inlaid into the floor with live wires, and charged with magic slowly accumulated from my personal power reserves for the past decade or so. I’d set it up when I first began my work on Troy, and knew that this day would finally come. So now, when it was finally time to activate it, I merely had to will it to occur.
The communication was forced, and instant. Eight avatars shaped themselves on a specific pedestal, as the electric wires charged and sparked with life. The Council of Eight, woken from any slumber, and called from any distance, were currently my captive audience. And what a glorious sight it was.
Ghalib Ilham, with his avatar made from golden sand, Anastazie Macek, with her avatar of snow crystals that glittered in the light, Dagathar the Mighty, with his avatar that was just crimson, viscous blood, Om’krok Jerrum, with his avatar of intertwisted blades, Amphitrite Evys, with her avatar of sea foam, Imnanaxis the Creator, with her avatar of ferns, flowers, and vines, Enzith Abaryn, with their avatar of raw light, and Percival. He looked like himself. It made me mad looking at him. So I didn’t.
No High Arcane. Even I wasn’t strong enough to conjure him. Plus, Syrus Silverheart might just be a myth.
Instantly, cacophony of questions, demands, threats. They could not reach me, and more importantly, I had the mute button, which I applied. I then began to speak, in a voice I’d made from scratch.
“Esteemed Council. I stand before you today to give you a revised iteration of my previously failed Council promotion project.”
Mixed reactions visual reactions. I ignore Percival because I was sure he had been rolling his eyes.
I rose my display models from the ground. Nine giant mechanical towers, miniature versions of the real things, a replica of the Fundament’s Chip, and a few other visual aides.
“Project Troy is inspired by many innovations of the past thirty years, many of which have been forced to be pioneered by me, and an ever shunned group of peers, in the face of unshakable change in the world. But I will start by citing works of those who are not my peers. Doctor Lanigan’s study of precursor entities that did not require human belief to exist, our own Percival’s firsthand account of a still living divine in Central America, and the musings of the newly crowned Chimera Prince of Europe, all of which helped me form my project before us today. You may thank them for their contributions at your leisure.”
Percival was getting dirty looks. Good. No one had been taken out of the presentation by me not using his last name either. I liked to pretend we were on a first name basis. It pissed him off.
“I proposed something very similar to Troy, twelve years ago. But at the time, this Council passed it up, citing it’s lack of practical applications, and accepted Percival onto the Council of Eight instead. Now, I intend to show you the error of your assertions, and humbly reject the job offer you are certain to give me.”
I gestured at the visual aides of the towers.
“These are nine mountain sized computer servers, made up of thousands, millions of high grade high storage chips, created by me, and funded by Spencer Cross through siphoned funds from his “Rebuild America” plans. These structures are mostly maintained through magic, and threaten the barrier between us and so called ‘chaos’ each moment of their existence. Each of them is also privy to the digital bindings of, between all of them, nine hundred ninety nine million, nine hundred ninety nine thousand human consciousnesses, salvaged and archived upon contact with the chips, which have been helpfully deployed to hundreds of United States military operations worldwide.”
That got a shock out of everyone here.
“These consciousnesses remain all human elements applicable to magic, some of them were even mages of a sort. But most pressingly, these individuals have the capacity for faith. Currently, they are undergoing dormancy. But, when the control chip is inserted, containing the last nine hundred and ninety nine most important minds, directors of thought, and wardens of paradigm of those within. Their minds will interface, interconnected, and achieve one simple goal.”
I had highlighted my copy of the chip when I’d mentioned it, and spread my arms.
“Nine gods. Perfect, obedient, newly ascended gods, created from one even. Our own Trojan War, but without a single drop of blood shed. The collective belief, combined with the inherent magic, will make their ascension instant, and their domains powerful. Things like electricity, computer systems, phones, gasoline, modern wonders of all sorts, that this council has chosen to ignore, will have gods that have complete and total control of all them worldwide, all of which will obey one government’s beck and call. And, as humans continue expanding, these aspects, these domains, will cover the earth, and there will be nowhere to hide.”
I smiled, silver glinting in my mouth.
“I am activating Project Troy before the sun rises over the east coast. So you have already seen the sun set, on the world you created. And the sun will rise on the one that renders you obsolete. You cannot stop me. You will only regret, as the world is reshaped. If you play nice, though, I may yet put my mind to stopping the apocalypse this council foretold. Good night.”
I didn’t bother unmuting, to let them get a word in edgewise. Each of them dissipated, their avatars fading to base magical elements, as they all no doubt planned to rush to stop me and my plans. In the meantime, only Percival lingered in my conference room.
“You’ve gotten ten times more arrogant after leaving the Society. Have fun being Cross’s lapdog.”
He sneered at me.
“Have fun being useless to Kraus. You’re afraid of that spear of his. I’m curious to find out way.”
I banished his projection, and strode out of the room. My awareness told me the chip was very very close, and the sounds of gunfire as agents, and presumably my flesh and blood soldiers and their state of the art technology, were no doubt engaging the Pythoness, or, as I’d recently learned-Ariel Angel, and Banditry.
The Sisterhood potentially being involved was troubling. But I’d come to deal with it. Little could stop me, once the chip was in my hands.
I moved to the main chamber, the domed silver ceiling and the various machinery that called it home. Claire was there, up and moving faster then expected. She was leaning against the rail, her new sets of weapons and new hand both complimenting her well.
“Is that the sound of the world changing?” She asked, inclining her had towards the noise. I laughed.
“No. That’s the sound of someone coming to stop it.” I spoke in my mentor’s voice again.
“If you want me to help you, you’ll explain your plan a little more. My delirious consent isn’t enough, anymore.” She snapped a bit, at me.
“Oh yes, I know. To save you a long and boring tale of technological innovation and magical theory, let me say this. If you help me, you will never have to fear something not of man ever again.”
I spoke with the conviction and truth in my heart. Claire gave a slightly muted nod.
“Good enough for me.”
————————————————————————————
The giant metal warrior smashing into the floor was the sign they were exceptionally close. Sure enough, without much delay, Ariel Angel and Banditry moved through the giant doors, which I promptly sealed behind them. I smiled down at them, my eyes no doubt aglow with my enthusiasm.
“Ariel Angel, Banditry, welcome!” I said, in another custom voice. I had been able to address some of the most powerful men in the world with it, this would do fine for these riff raff.
“Thanks.” Said the Pythoness, a bit gruffly. “Don’t suppose this can go nice and easy?” She asked it with just a smidgen of naive hope in her voice.
I smiled even wider.
“Oh, of course it can! Just give me my chip, and you’re free to leave.”
I suppose I would follow through, if they were willing. But they weren’t, so it was a moot point anyways.
“I thought you didn’t need anymore, and we forced your hand or whatever?” Bandit said, gripping his sword.
“Ah!” I said, clasping my hands together. “Well that’s very simple. I lied.”
I held out my hand, and called my inherent connection to the artifact forward. The case flew to my hand, and entered it’s code, a treasured friend’s birthday, and the chip emerged, as beautiful as I had seen it less then twenty four hours ago. I couldn’t be entranced, though, because the battle had been pitched.
I had sprouted my extra set of arms already, and had equipped them with necessary spell components. I went ahead and conjured a fleet of agents, just as Claire fired her crossbow, striking Ariel in the shoulder, before not bothering to reload, and hurling herself over the railing. I prepared to unearth the primary control console, which was beneath the floor where the battle was being fought. It slowly began to unearth.
Down below, Ariel’s spiritual menagerie was laying waste to my final wave of agents, but they were serving their purpose. Meanwhile, the Pythoness herself used her giant snake as a springboard to get an impressively high jump, landing on the balcony with me. At the same time, down below, Banditry and Claire had engaged in battle again. Claire with her strange dark curved blade and a longsword my machines had fabricated for her. They’d become quite the set of rivals.
“Miss Angel. I’m sure we can resolve our differences without violence?” I said, calmly, taking a step back. She strode forward all the same.
“Doubt it.” She commented, as her fingernails sprouted into claws, and she lunged, with the faint sound of a rattle from her tail. One of my lower arms blocked, and I attempted the same paralysis spell I’d used on Banditry earlier-
“01000010011001010010000001110011-“
But no purchase, she only hesitated a moment. I instead withdrew more of my needle weapons, flinging them at high speeds into her lower abdomen with more binary, but that hardly slowed her down. So I flung myself backwards.
“We’re oh so similar, though. We’ve both transcended the circumstances and expectations of our births, in eerily similar, and very different ways. What I’m trying to do will make the world a better place for everyone but the monsters who have hurt us.”
She growled, and lunged at me, nearly taking my nose off, if one of my lower limbs didn’t push her back. In response, she tore it clean off in a spray of sparks. I muttered more binary, and activated the self destruct, swallowing her in a column of energy that she emerged only slightly singed from.
“I’ve read about your rebellions from the Kingdom of Blood. You and your kind. A brave stand against monsters that ended in tragedy. You survived. You deserve a better world. For them.” I spoke with impassioned morality, as I wove a protective field around myself with more ones and zeroes. The chip was clutched in my spare metal arm
“You don’t get to speak for them, you meddling little mouthbreather!”
She practically roared, and tore away at the protective field in an instant, her claws now charged with some kind of magical energy. My eyes went wide, and i lashed back with a bolt of lighting sourced from my fingertip, an act that short circuited three fingers on my left hand. It only pushed her back a few steps.
“I don’t, but I speak as someone whose culture was destroyed. Whose contributions to this world were nearly torn down by conniving little men!” I shouted back, hurling another bolt from my left hand, fully taking it out of commission. Just a bit longer. The floor was nearly fully opened. All of the agents were depleted, but through the hole in the ceiling, more of my personal guard were descending from the propulsion packs I’d made for them, which kept the scary zoo she kept busy.
Claire had Banditry on the back foot, too. He was bleeding from a few cuts, and the few gunshots I’d heard clearly hadn’t hit Claire. The extra strength I’d given her silver hand had clearly paid off.
“-Both sides of my family can trace themselves back to being destroyed by people who probably never knew their names. Whether they are descended from this land or not. Surely you know this must change?”
I had gotten back around her, so that we’d nearly ended up back where we’d started. I flicked my right hand, and manipulated the fallen armor suit that had made the whole in the ceiling, remotely accessing it’s chain gun to release a volley of bullets, which tore into Ariel from the side, slowing her offensive down. But not slowing her down enough to not have her offer a rebuttal.
“It must. But you’re colluding with those same men. You’re handing the keys to your change to some fuckin’ president and his fuckin’ asshat friends. You’re no better.”
She charged forward, and tackled me against the railing, bending it. If my bones weren’t reinforced, I probably would have cracked a rib. I groaned.
“Better the devil you kn-”
She threw me off the side. That idiot let her anger get the best of her. I projected a wire from my right palm, and anchored it to the central platform, allowing me to reel in to it. I landed next to the central control console.
I relished in this moment. Taking it in with all my sight.
It wasn’t perfect. Banditry had regained the upper hand, and was currently about to push Claire into the pit beneath the floor, which would certainly kill her. My men were chew toys for snakes, canaries, and wolves. But Ariel had delivered me right where I needed to be.
I slotted the Fundmental Chip into the console, and activated Project Troy.
The entire building began to rumble. Ariel stared in horror. Banditry looked up long enough for Claire to kick him in the chest and regain her footing. And I spread my arms, as I had before the Council of Eight.
“Nine Megaservers are being transported here through the earth, for their final uploads. Before they ascend. Before the machine gods are born.” I crowed in another voice of my own creation, forged of the machine, inhuman in it of itself.
I said, seeing the shadow cast by the emerging machinery, as my creations were brought to the point of their inception.
“Nine Gods under my control, under our control. The reign of modernity will be absolute, and those who have held back global progress will be crushed underfoot. It’s over.”
Ariel leaped down, and started running along the side of one of the metal wirehouses that connected the edges of the room. I released all five of my fingers from my right hand like miniature rockets, the impacts of three out of five knocking her off balance. Banditry tried to ignore me, and pressed the attack on Claire, finally seizing the advantage once more, getting several good cuts in, both of them now bleeding. They were about even, when no one was interfering.
Ariel’s pets were also closing on me, having run out of military personnel to maul. It didn’t matter. The servers were in position. I interfaced with my creation, binary code and distant landscapes of circuit skies and now fully subsumed human form overlaying before my eyes. The ascension would occur instantly, without any delay. My enemies were in my laboratory, a place dominated by all the domains of the Nine Machine Gods, and they would be purged instantly upon my whim. So, with Ariel being four paces away, she was too slow.
I activated Troy in full. And awaited the ascension, basking in the flowing magic, arms spread.
A flash of red spread across my vision.
“SystemErrorObstructingFile”
The red error flashed across my vision, just as Ariel’s claws turned my face to ribbons and sent me plummeting off the platform. I slammed, hard, into one of the wirehouses. I saw stars for a moment, but that didn’t stop me from searching for the source of error.
“ObstructingFile, SurplusFiles, SourceFile:1. FIlename: Oliver.Pietro.Elliot”
I turned my eyes to the landscape within the chip.
And there he was. Not fully submerged. Not submerged at all, being rejected by the structure of the chip.
He hadn’t let go of the case when he’d died. The strip along the outside, that let me track it from a distance, that facilitated my invisible war…
It had absorbed him into the chip.
And he was stopping Troy from activating.
He was staring at me, the dead man.
I shook the vision out and focused on the real world. I’d rushed into it. But I could still save it. I cleared my actual vision, and stared up at the central platform through the blood that dribbled over my vision.
Ariel was rapidly fiddling with the controls. She was shouting to Banditry. I heard another voice, speaking close by, that I hadn’t heard before, but I couldn’t make it out.
Ariel was trying to access the decommission menu. The one I’d been ordered to make. With the chip inserted, the password wouldn’t be relevant.
But, despite the fact that my entire life’s work was a moment’s away from destruction, I craned my head back slightly, and laughed, cackled, and crowed.
Then, I flicked my wrist, and destroyed the Fundament’s Chip, and every mind on it. A brief burst of energy, and that was that.
Ariel stared down at me. I sat up, and took the moment to mummer more code, slowly lifting myself off the ground to be level with her, as I stared her down. All of her animals haunched back to attack.
“If you didn’t fumble with the keys, you fat fingered fuck, you probably would have beat me to it. But now, all I’ve lost is a month, a year at most.”
I grinned, blood dribbling down my silver teeth and into my mouth, but I didn’t give a damn.
“I’ll rebuild the chip. The Megaservers are still intact, and not even your pets can scratch them. I’ll find more minds, and I’ll do it right this time you’ve won the battle, but I’ve won-“
“Nothin’, partner.” Ariel said, smirking.
Just as the sound of a mountains worth of computer equipment began to explode outside. My face turned towards the hole, now holes in the ceiling, as chunks of the megaservers begin to crush in like rain, pulverizing everything around.
I saw silvery pale light streaking across the sky in two thin perpendicular beams, and a purple to dark blue shape moving faster then the eye could follow under the full moon up above. My face went as pale as it could. I turned over. Ariel had a new animal on her shoulder, a parrot. Which repeated words in a voice that I’d heard on T.V growing up, on the radio, in classified government files.
“The rest of the Sisters were busy. They figured I would be enough to handle this.”
The parrot then squawked, and Ariel ruffled it’s feathers.
I scanned the room for Claire. I saw the door open, and a silver hand with no owner hanging on it’s handle. A potent resignation notice, the irony not quite landing with me.
Banditry had leaped up to a hole in the ceiling, whooping and cheering each time the woman from the stars did a pass of destroying my life’s work.
Ariel gave me a tip of the hat, then hopping on her wolf, bounding towards the exit, with the snake, canary, and parrot in tow. More animals starting to manifest behind her as she rode.
I could have stopped her. I could have fought. But as everything crumbled around me, all I could do was scream. Scream with the rawest rage in the bottom of my throat, the depths of my soul.
Cursing Percival, cursing the Council of Eight, cursing Leonidas the Pleonektein and his damnable sister, cursing Banditry, the Pythoness, the good for nothing inquisitor, cursing Lunarialaia, cursing the sisterhood, the president, Oliver Pietro Elliot, the entire world
I cursed from my lungs, to my heart, to the blood pouring from my wounds, the slick, oily blood. The heavens themselves would have shook on my command, if things had gone my way. But instead, the sound just echoed through the rippling destruction.
When I eventually tore myself through space, through a phone line, to a safe house, to decide where I would spend the next century rotting and wallowing away my failures, I had no more voices with which to scream, no rage with which to lash out my failure.
I had nothing left, not even those simple, human things.
Kindling And Miscellany 