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Mask of Humanity
49: Unlikely Ally

49: Unlikely Ally

‘Come!’ Nicolai repeated to the man on the ground.

The man stared at him, then threw a glance behind and saw the drone. He scrambled to his feet and came after Nicolai who ducked into the room.

Inside, Nicolai opened the hidden room and pressed into the tunnel, rushing through it, hearing the man following after him. The idea of having an enemy behind him made the back of his neck prickle and he moved quickly to reach the end and open the hidden door there before the man could get too close.

Entering another of the small bedrooms he heard more voices from outside this one, too, and running footsteps. Fortunately the door was closed. Nicolai pressed himself into the wall beside it and took a moment to connect to his Seed, activating its Soul Sense. Pressing the tendrils through the door he felt the shapes of people, charging down the hallway outside.

‘Around there, cut them off!’ he heard through the door and the thrill was twisting and rising through him, sensing that death was closer than ever. With another tendril of Soul Sense he felt the man emerge from the tunnel behind him and Nicolai glanced over, determining the man had no intentions of attacking him as the man twisted to close the hidden door behind with a loud slam.

Nicolai winced at the noise. He heard a voice from outside and felt someone come to stand before the door. His body thrummed with eagerness in response, then the door was kicked open and a woman poked her head into the room.

Nicolai’s rapier found the bottom of her chin and he shoved it up until the tip stabbed out through the top of her head. Her clothes gave him a millisecond of surprise. She had a shortsword in her hands but other than that, looked like she could have walked off a street on earth.

He let her fall and looked out into the corridor over her spasming body and saw more of them down towards the end, turning and looking, momentarily confused and in disarray. There were guns in their hands.

He darted across the corridor, relying on his mental map of the area, and burst through a door just as shots rang out from behind. Nicolai’s hands searched the wall for the button and found it, felt a moment of relief to have recalled the correct room. The hidden door opened and he slid inside, turning to see the man run in after him, almost falling, his arms around his head as bullets spat past down the corridor.

‘They’re coming out the other tunnel!’ the man yelled as he ran at Nicolai.

Nicolai felt an impulse to slam the hidden door in his face, but he pushed the impulse down and left the door open while retreating into the tunnel. As soon as the man was in, bionic arm did it himself, twisting then slamming the hidden door. Nicolai could hear the voices of their pursuers on the other side. They’d soon be through.

With his sort-of-enemy, sort-of-ally following behind, Nicolai rushed through the tunnel and they burst out the next hidden door.

The next few minutes were a blur of running and hiding, Nicolai and his companion communicating nothing but their increasing tiredness through the pace of their heavy breaths.

Nicolai found himself squeezed against into the corner by the entrance of a small room. This one had no door and the man was on the other side, squeezed into his own corner. They’d intended to get into another tunnel but a mass of people had come into their corridor and they’d barely ducked into this one in time.

The mass passed by, Nicolai and the man barely breathing. The people were talking.

‘—itch is dead,’ laughed someone as their words became audible. ‘I told her—‘

‘Shut up you fucking cretin. Ought to have be—’

‘—et those fuckers. I’m gonna cut them up when we find them.’

‘That’ll have to be tomorrow, boys and girls. Almost night time. Come—‘

Then their chatter faded, and Nicolai began to relax until he heard footsteps and breathing from outside, tensing up again. The footsteps came closer and Nicolai felt the shape of a human with his Soul Sense as they passed by. Just one.

Nicolai leaned out to see a figure with their back turned, a heavyset man with a metal-capped staff that drooped from his limp grasp, heading down the corridor after the others, who had just turned a corner. Nicolai wanted to get the guy but he knew that this man would likely be maintaining a connection to the rest of his group over Local. As a Raw, there was nothing he could do about that.

Movement drew his eye and he saw bionic-arm, gesturing to him. The man made a cutting gesture beside his ear. The meaning of this was: I can block his Local. So, bionic-arm had a bit of skill when it came to cyberwarfare, too. A useful fellow.

Nicolai nodded to his… companion, then poked his head out, checked up and down the corridor and saw it was indeed just this guy, lagging behind the rest. He slithered out the doorway and padded soundlessly behind the fat man, quickly closing the distance.

He wrapped an arm around the man’s throat, squeezing tight to stop any words from coming out, and kicked him in the back of the knee. The man flailed, dropped his staff and pried pointlessly at the limb wrapping his throat while Nicolai dragged him into the room then threw him onto the ground.

Before the victim could think to struggle or yell Nicolai’s short-term ally was there with his sword digging into their victims stomach.

‘If you shout, I’ll gut you,’ hissed bionic arm.

Nicolai squatted by the captured man, looking over at bionic arm. Their gazes met and there was a moment of total understanding between them. He drew his rapier and put it to the captured man’s throat. This man, like the others, wore earth-style clothes, though carried no earth-style weapons.

‘We have questions,’ said Nicolai, ‘and you’re going to answer them.’

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The fat man was staring up at them, eyes wide and round, face pale, throat flexing with quiet, worried gasps of air. ‘They’ll come looking for me,’ he said.

‘No they won’t, they’re all heading home.’ Nicolai smiled at him.

‘You’re all alone,’ said bionic arm, and Nicolai saw he was smiling, too.

The fat man licked nervously at his lips, his eyes darting all around. ‘Please… please don’t hurt me,’ he begged.

‘That’s up to you,’ said bionic arm.

‘Where did you and your friends get the guns, the drones, the clothes?’ asked Nicolai.

‘The Trade Link,’ babbled the fat man. ‘We bought everything with points-tags from the Trade Link.’

‘Where is the Trade Link?’ asked Nicolai.

‘Uh, it’s on the other side. Of the bridges. We have our base there.’

‘Share your map,’ said Nicolai.

‘What?’

Nicolai poked the man gently in the belly with his rapier. ‘The map. You access it via your Mark.’ He gestured with the rapier to the man’s right hand, where the golden mark glowed.

The fat man swallowed then tapped the back of his hand. He pressed some invisible buttons and a hologram sprung into view before Nicolai and bionic arm. ‘It’s there,’ he said, pointing at a place across the bridge. ‘That’s our base. The Trade Link is inside.’

‘Your base blocks it off?’ asked Nicolai, frowning at the map.

‘Vikrum set everything up around the Trade Link. We fortified the area. It’s our Trade Link.’

Vikrum? He recognised the name. The leader of that group on the Radio, the Chosen. Nicolai considered the fact these Chosen had seized full control of the Trade Link. Annoying, thought part of him. Worrying, thought another. The Chosen were trouble, brewing on the horizon.

‘You see that button that looks like a weird arrow? Press it, then press yes,’ said bionic arm.

‘Sure, ok,’ said the fat man, doing as he’d been asked.

Bionic arm sank forwards and tapped the back of his hand, his own Mark, against the fat mans. There was a flare of golden light where the Marks touched. He tilted his head to Nicolai, an invitation, and, curious, Nicolai did the same. The moment his Mark touched the fat man’s, words spilled out of it.

Nigel has copied their map to you. Your map has been updated.

That’s useful. He was pleased to have learned something new, pleased to have gained something useful. The fat man had quite a bit explored that Nicolai hadn’t seen before.

‘You and the rest of them, are you always out and about, hunting for others?’ he asked.

The fat man hesitated for a moment, perhaps unwilling to admit guilt. But Nicolai only had to raise the rapier slightly, and the words resumed spilling out his mouth.

‘Yes, yes that’s right,’ the Chosen babbled, eyes on the bloodied tip of metal wavering before his face.

‘How many trips have you personally been on?’

‘I don’t know, like, five? Or six?’

Nicolai nodded slowly, thoughtfully. In that case, the map shared with him should give a good indication of the areas this group hunted within.

‘Tell us about your group. Who leads? How many are you?’ asked bionic arm.

‘There’s lots of us,’ said the fat man, and his expression grew a little firmer. ‘They’ll hunt you. They don’t care about me but you killed Cleo, she had friends. You’re both gonna—‘

Nicolai waved the rapier again, chuckling, and the fat man was silent, eyes following the metal. There were only two things Nicolai truly feared, and this cult wasn’t amongst them.

‘Just answer the questions,’ he said.

‘Our leader is Vikrum,’ snarled the fat man, holding onto his courage. ‘We’re the Chosen. He’s gonna become a God, that’s why we gather all the Seeds. He’s the most augmented man you’ll ever meet. Once he finishes his Seed he will usher in a new world!’

Nicolai was a little taken aback by the spew of cultish propaganda. ‘Where’s your Seed?’ he asked, trying to peer into the fat man’s mouth.

‘I gave it to Vikrum. We all did,’ said the fat man. Astonishingly, he seemed proud of this fact. ‘He will raise us up with him.’

Bionic arm laughed, and Nicolai was unable to keep the smile from his own face.

‘You don’t know anything!’ hissed the fat man, then he leaned forwards and his words turned more purposeful. ‘You should join us. You just need to give up your Seed to Vikrum. Then you’re one of us. You get access to the Trade Link, that means weapons, clothes, food. There are lots of us, you’ll be safe.’ He was speaking faster and faster, desperation showing in the whites of his eyes. ‘I’ll take you there. I’ll explain to them all. We’ll go straight to Vikrum. If you bring your Seeds he’ll forgive you for Cleos. You have your Seeds, right? You haven’t lost them?’

Nicolai didn’t answer that. Right now he was working with bionic arm, but they’d been fighting a short time ago. It wasn’t wise to give information, no matter how minor, to possible enemies. Bionic arm was silent on the matter, too, presumably for similar reasons.

‘You’re fools,’ said the fat man, sitting back, frowning and worried and desperate and afraid. ‘There’s no stopping us. Every day our numbers grow. We take in everyone. Do you know how many people have lost their Seeds or had them stolen? They seek us out! Safety, food, weapons, numbers! We have everything! We will take control of this castle, then the new world! Once Vikrum gains—‘

‘Shut up,’ snapped Nicolai, and the Chosen was silent.

‘We get the idea,’ added bionic arm.

Nicolai stared at the fat man, trying to think of anything else to ask. The torch in the room was increasingly red and dull. He had to get back to his safe place soon. He glanced at bionic arm to see if the man had any other questions. Bionic arm shrugged at him.

‘Hey,’ said the fat man, his voice weakening. ‘Hey. Let me go. Come on. I’ve answered your questions. Let me go and I’ll try to convince them you’re alright, you don’t have to come with me, just—‘

His words dissolved into wretched gurgling as Nicolai jabbed the rapier into his throat, then angled it up as the fat man flailed at him, shoving it further, up into the brain, jerking it around and scrambling the grey matter. The fat man slumped, twitching, eyes rolling. Nicolai watched. A shame, I suppose, but it is what it is.

Nicolai rose to his feet and stood across from bionic arm. The tension returned. There were two metres between them. The torch cast them in a bloody red light.

He still wanted to kill bionic arm for his things, but the man was watching him warily, weapon hanging down but ready to rise at any moment. From the way that arm moved, Nicolai judged he’d managed to jerry-rig it back into a halfway-operable state with some kind of setting’s change. It looked like it would be effective in a fight again, at least to an extent.

There was little time until night so if he did attack, he would have to kill the man instantly if possible. He needed to get back home. If he tried to kill bionic arm and failed to do so, then any chance of working together in the future would be gone, he would have another enemy and nothing to show for it.

‘The Chosen are a problem for both of us,’ said bionic arm.

Nicolai nodded, and the tension was broken. ‘My name is Nicolai,’ he said.

‘Johan,’ said Johan.

‘You have a radio?’ asked Nicolai.

Johan nodded.

‘Every night, when darkness falls, I will set mine to channel eleven for a time. If you wish to speak to me, do so then,’ said Nicolai.

‘Okay,’ said Johan, then looked to the corpse, his eyes on a pouch on the mans belt.

Nicolai crouched down and cut it away from the belt with a knife, one handed, while keeping his rapier ready and his eyes on Johan. He rose to his feet and peeked into the pouch. Inside was a chunk of crudely half-whittled wood. His mark flared as he examined it.

A badly carved piece of wood.

He tossed it to Johan who kept his eyes on Nicolai as he caught it, examined it, snorted, then dumped it.

Johan left first, watching Nicolai, then Nicolai followed, watching Johan. Johan had left the fat man’s staff so Nicolai crouched down and picked it up. It looked to be good for staving in bony skulls and could serve as a replacement for his polearm. He moved some distance backwards and Johan did the same. Then they turned at the same moment and Nicolai started running.

He needed to get back to his safe place immediately.