#25 Dizzy Beacon [https://i.imgur.com/cnHoJOy.png]

As a human farmer would have known a great deal about the structure of the soil and the temperament of his cows, the Master had over the years developed a professional interest in some aspects of human culture. It hadn't made much of an impression on him. Although a lot of their media before what they called 'the Fall' had a surprising tendency toward violence – some of it could almost have been conceived by a Meitagenan – even the most graphic depictions were most often stylised beyond the point of credibility. It was sweet, really: they tried so hard, but it just wasn't in their nature.

When the Movement had proposed a 'heist', though, the uncommon word in their language had stirred something in his memory, and he recalled it as a popular genre of human storytelling. And this one would have such a gruesome ending, as soon as he stepped into the picture.

For now, though, he took a fancy to the idea of enjoying the spectacle as humans might; it seemed like the sort of thing which would strike them as offensive or even violent to do so. They really were far too easy to torment. He even waited a couple of hours to watch, so that the Network would have time to cut the surveillance footage of the 'operation' into something like one of their own movies.

And so, after a long day working on the genetic looms, Filibub Junior settled in to put his appendages up, with a popcorn bag of Bitesized in one and a flute of blood in another. This was going to be fun.

***

"The Aotearoan Ascenter farm," Ikaroa was saying, "Covers the whole of Te Waipounamu, which is the larger southern island of the archipelago."

Still with Kaito, Rui and Darya in the lab, Ikaroa was briefing on the basic challenges of the planned operation.

"The first hurdle is that Free Rangers–" (the Meitagenan term for humans outside the farms, which had been defiantly reclaimed on the grounds of inadvertently sounding kinda badass in English) "–aren't normally even allowed to make landfall on the South Island. The only time I've ever heard of people going is as, erm, entertainment, for the Ascenter labourers. And they're not human Ascenters either, in case you thought we might have a hope of passing."

She glanced at Kaito, who simply nodded at her to continue.

"The nanites themselves," she went on, "Will be stored in this facility on Tasman Bay. It's a sort of hospital for the farm." ('Veterinarian' would in fact have been a more faithful translation of the Meitagenan in that case, but those who knew that already knew, and those who didn't, didn't need to.) "Beyond that, we don't know much. We haven't even got a floorplan. Can sigint help with that?"

Kaito shook his head. "Too much security."

Ikaroa sighed, and looked at Kaito with a mixture of pleading and despair. "In which case, that concludes our intelligence briefing. Tell me you've got something up your sleeve."

They all turned to look at him while they waited for him to speak. He was tapping a stylus on the table.

"I do," he said eventually, "But the four of us aren't going to be enough."

"Wait, what?!" exclaimed Ikaroa. "We're doing this? Kaito, this is the mission Special Ops have been training for all their lives."

"I am aware," Kaito gently reprimanded, which earned a firm folding of the arms from his second-in-command. "I am also aware," he went on, "That you led that team for nine years, and I myself was in it for seven. We have no dearth of those skills between us, and given how little information we have about the facility, bringing our most able scientist and hacker on the mission seems wise. And aside from all that, it's a question of trust. If this mission is to succeed, it depends upon the most absolute discretion and secrecy–"

***

The Master laughed.

***

"–and the fact is, given everything we've endured recently, the list of people in the Movement I trust is now very small indeed. But nonetheless the four of us are not enough."

"This is mad. Completely mad." Ikaroa was reduced to saying. She turned to Rui, "You tell him."

Rui, though, was uncharacteristically silent, looking at Kaito with what was almost, but not quite, his usual haughty smirk. It was less haughty, somehow. More appreciative, like he was in on a joke.

Ikaroa threw her arms up in frustration. "What, do you know something I don't about this? Please, enlighten me."

Kaito intervened. "Ikaroa, trust me." He looked her dead in the eyes, which was a rarity. His expression was superficially cold conviction, but there was a momentary twitch of anxiety below his left eye. He meant business. There was no arguing that face, especially after…

Ikaroa nodded, cowed. "Alright," she said, simply, speaking naturally in a weak, high tone she normally only affected when dealing with the Master.

Kaito nodded.

"Alright…" Ikaroa went on. "The four of us are not enough. Who, then?"

"None of us are particularly practised liars," Kaito advanced. "Darya, care to explain?"

"The catch in any secure system is the human element," she supplied immediately. "Or, like, the Ascenter element, or whatever. You mostly break the people, not the tech."

Kaito nodded appreciatively. "And I have someone in mind whom I believe I can trust, whose skills are very much along the lines of breaking people… er, one way or another."

Ikaroa looked puzzled for a moment, then caught his drift with horror. "You can't be serious."

"He's a friend!" Kaito protested, before adding, "…of sorts."

"By which you mean you had a huge crush on him when you were in London and he barely acknowledged your existence."

This provoked a started "what the fuck?!" from Rui and a sympathetic "oh, dude!" from Darya.

Kaito actually blushed. "Thank you for that, Ikaroa," he began, sarcastically. He paused for a moment, determinedly not looking at any of them, before resolving that it was necessary to explain a little further. "I, uh, I was a teenager," he ground out. "It was my first job in the Movement. And I daresay he's acknowledged my existence for the last few years, given my position."

A pregnant pause.

"Also," he added meekly, "I should probably add that I am over it."

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If Ikaroa hadn't already promised to trust him, this would have broken her. Glancing over at Rui, even he had switched to a rather murderous scowl, though he still wasn't saying anything.

"I understand your objection," said Kaito, resuming his more usual authoritative tone. "But I have considered this from every angle, I assure you. In any event, he's already on his way."

"Actually," interjected a haughty British voice behind them, "He's already here."

The new arrival approached the table, seemingly cheekbones-first. He rubbed his hand on a far more nicely tailored suit than was at all reasonable for a post-apocalyptic hellscape, before offering to shake hands, charmingly, with Rui and Darya.

"I don't believe we've met," he said, smoothly. "William Pearce-Taylor, latterly cell coordinator for the Movement in London."

Rui and Darya introduced themselves in turn.

Kaito was very determinedly not looking at him. Quietly, he managed, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Nothing I didn't already know," William breezed, pouring himself a glass of water, before addressing his remarks to Rui and Darya. "Believe me, if you'd known this guy back then, you wouldn't have gone for it either. Bookish, naïve, shy, you'd never have thought he'd amount to anything."

Darya at least laughed, delighted, but not unkindly. Rui and Ikaroa were both just glaring at him.

He clapped Kaito on the back. "Proud of you," he added, with deliberate impertinence.

"Yes, well…" said Kaito, who seemed to be having trouble keeping his feet flat on the floor. "Let's get down to business."

***

Setting off on the submarine had been a dramatic affair: the only thing that Rui and Darya agreed on was that one of them should get to drive, but not which.

"I'm an engineer dude, of course I can drive it!"

"You're a fucking surfer, Kook, and this is a submarine. The shitty thing you're good at is literally the exact opposite of what this boat is designed to do."

In the end, Rui had won by sheer force of will to power, and Darya had joined the others in the back.

"What's living on an Ascenter farm like? Like, does anyone know?" Darya asked at one point, looking vaguely out a porthole.

"I don't know much," said Ikaroa. Kaito looked round at her, surprised: he hadn't forgotten this would be the closest Ikaroa had probably come to her daughter in years, but he'd assumed she wouldn't be comfortable even implying the existence of Rāhera in front of the others. She went on, "But I know more than most. There are people bred and raised in there, who never get to see the outside world. But Free Rangers selected for Ascent spend some time there too, learning about the world they're going to enter. Not facts and stuff, because they'll get all that from the Network, but stuff like social norms. Muscle memory for things like that. Not getting too surprised, or… too horrified."

"So it's sort of like a finishing school?" asked William.

Kaito laughed.

"Sort of a mixture of a finishing school and a meat market," clarified Ikaroa.

The range of facial expressions William passed through in response to that could have trained a neural network by itself.

"These are Meitagenan social norms we're talking about," supplied Kaito.

"Oi, shitheads," hollered Rui from the cockpit. "We'll be in Wellington in ten minutes. Bet you're not even fucking ready."

In fact, they were. Kaito slipped out to go sit with him.

"I don't suppose anything might be achieved with a passive neutrino scan now we're this close?" he asked.

Rui laughed haughtily. "Not unless you think they've got a neutron star in there."

Kaito looked impassively out the front window. "I do not."

Rui fiddled with a few controls. "I might be able to do something with active EM, but it's risky."

"Radar?"

Rui shrugged. "Basically. I don't recommend it."

Kaito looked at him, considering, then nodded. "Best if we don't, then."

"This plan is total bullshit, by the way," Rui advanced.

Kaito laughed quite hard. "Yes, that's exactly what it is."

"Are you sure you're not completely fucking over the Movement just for the smallest chance you get your shitty brother back?"

Kaito looked round at him, startled. "You don't mince your words."

"That's not exactly fucking news, is it?"

Kaito sighed, unable to look at him. "This is not the time or the place for this conversation. But thank you. I really mean that." He spoke in a very belaboured fashion, like every word of that was a monumental effort.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Kaito raised a hand. "The short answer to your question is no, I assure you. But there is a long answer, too. It's just, when I'm about to go on the most dangerous mission of my life…"

Rui's brow furrowed, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"You're fucking going with her, aren't you? If we pull this off?"

Kaito did look up at that. "…Yes." He said, eventually. "The Movement is bigger than any one man."

"Fuck that."

"Rui…"

"No, I mean fuck you going off on your own with whoever the fuck Puppy turns into after all this. I'm coming too."

"Ha," spluttered Kaito, then, "Really?"

Rui just nodded.

Kaito looked, for the first time in months, happy: surprised and delighted. But it didn't last long. "I suppose this isn't the time or the place for that conversation either," he said.

"Fuck no."

***

Despite the seriousness of the circumstances, Kaito had a slight spring in his step as he approached the duty Ascenter in the Port of Wellington. He didn't recognise its former species, if it in fact resembled it at all, but "giant parrot" was almost sufficient description of its appearance. It looked at him with head tilted.

"Shimizu Kaito," he introduced himself, with a bow. The Ascenter did not respond in kind, but ruffled its feathers in a formal sort of way.

"Reporting for Ascent as ordered," Kaito added.

"Squaa," the Ascenter replied. "Date and location of birth?"

"Hokkaido, Japan," replied Kaito. "And 47988.214."

The Ascenter lifted one of its feet to waist level and interfaced with its terminal.

"Squaa," it said, "You're late. Very late."

"Is that a problem?" Kaito deadpanned.

"Squaa, not my problem," replied the Ascenter, making a sort of shrugging motion with its wings. "What's with the – squaa – box?"

It gestured to the rather large crate Kaito was being followed by on an antigrav dolly.

"I was told I was allowed to bring personal effects," he explained.

"Squaa, most people just bring a trinket," the Ascenter challenged. " You're the one who'll have to look after it all, squaa. You'll be a lot less sentimental – squaa – after you Ascend."

Kaito shrugged. "Certainly, but I don't know how I will direct what little sentimentality that remains."

"Squaa, alright fine, your funeral." It withdrew its claw from the interface. "A drone's coming over for you. Ten minutes, squaa." It gestured behind itself to the dock, by way of invitation.

Kaito nodded, and took a seat as though to wait. "Go," he said, quietly.

A loud shriek, followed by a thud and an explosion of feathers, one of which landed gently on Kaito's knee. He looked round.

William was brushing a few feathers off his suit. The Ascenter wasn't just dead, it was also shit out of luck. Darya rushed to action quickly, projecting a 3D hologram of the bird in its place, as Rui dragged it into the water, and Ikaroa swept the dock.

"Brings a whole new meaning to Polly-gone," quipped William.

"That's the worst fucking pun I've ever heard," supplied Rui.

Darya was plugging the Ascenter claws into her phone and typing frantically.

"Have you got what you need?" Kaito asked. Without looking up or speaking, Darya nodded.

"Alright, everyone in the crate," said Kaito. "Even you, William, for now."

They clambered in, Darya hardly pausing her work, peppering Rui with technical questions even when she physically had to put her phone down to get in the box.

"Stay still and quiet in there," Kaito reminded. "It said it was a drone, but just in case."

Ikaroa, the last to get in, nodded, as she closed the lid behind her.

Kaito looked out over the water, squinting to see if he could see the island, but it must have been too far away. The scorched skies rippled on the horizon; no stars were visible.

"Today," he said to himself, aloud, "Is not a good day to die."