In response to the darkness beyond the Door, the Clan Head started barking orders, “I want a ‘Tesudo Orbit’ around my position. Shieldmen outside, Monitors and their Guardians inside of them forming the next ring. Monitors, I want lights and full detection systems running, Guardians keep them safe and support the outer line. Yuma, you’ll be in the middle with myself and Yosef.” He looked to Yuma, she hesitated a moment then nodded in return. “Young Korl, Cura, Telane, I will let you choose your own positions. I know you won’t compromise the integrity of the formation.”
The formation had already been putting itself together from his first words. Yuma suspected the Clan Head’s extensive verbalization was for the ‘outsiders' benefit’, aka her and Tule’s group. She didn’t say anything because she hadn’t had any ideas how to approach entering the darkness. One thing that did stick out to her was how much the Clan Head had changed, more significantly perhaps anyone else here. She suspected that the vast majority here would miss it but the formality that he expressed seemed more… well, a formality.
His face was much different than her father’s. His had been weathered and creased by life in the Labs but also full of warm lines, ones of smiling and laughter. The Clan Head had few of these and with his age and his current demeanor, he should have had smile lines. He did not. The story of his face and the manner in which he acted now was much more affable than the story of his face revealed. She had trouble imagining that the strict structure and training of the Clan would be necessary for their current numbers.
She shook off the thought, that was the problem with a high-EQ, little things you picked up from people could distract you. You could get lost analyzing people at odd moments. Although the thought didn’t occur to her, and thus she didn’t appreciate it, having a lower-IQ Allocation actually helped mitigate this problem that came from a high-EQ. One’s depth of thinking with a low-IQ only went so far.
The Monitors produced an array of light sources, many of the beams emanating from the back of their portables. One Monitor had an extendable lightbar that spun visibility along a wide-band. Another put a pair of goggles over his eyes that punched out high-beams through the eye-sockets. The strangest one by far was the Monitor who handed his portable to his Guardian. His skin lit up in glowing white that shone through from beneath the layers of skin as the light grew and grew until it hurt to look directly at him. The Monitor was sweating as he gathered and moved the light down his arms. He slammed his palms together in a loud clap that pulled the gathered light completely into his hands. He pulled his palms apart but kept his fingers together as the light stabilized and gathered in strength. He pointed his palms outward, blaring bright, hot light.
“Well done Hendrew, you have made admirable strides in your control.” The sweating Monitor gave a strained smile at the Clan Head’s words as he dipped his head a measured bob in thanks. “Your insight was invaluable Clan Head.”
“Proceed.”
The squad slipped silently into the darkness, breath and formation tight.
The light sources varied wildly in effectiveness. The most effective was the Monitor Hendrew with his glowing palms, below them were the various Monitor’s solutions and least effective of all were the soft lights emanating from the front of the Shield Guard’s shields.
The gloom was oppressive; it seemed to push back against the light, wherever it didn’t directly illuminate, the darkness pressed in. It was a deeply unsettling feeling that her Senses couldn’t punch through the darkness. Her anxiety started to spark and churn, her sole memory preserved after emerging from Cryo was of being trapped in the deep dark of a cave.
She hoped that and her hampered Senses were where the bad feeling in her gut was coming from. The area beyond the door was clear, flat metal floor. There was no variance in it at all. Yuma looked back to the Door they had come through. It was more distant now. It’s size appeared to be no more than a normal door. She paused.
“Clan Head! The Door is closing!”
The Clan Head whirled his head along with many of the Clan as their light sources pointed back the way they had come.
“Hold steady, we’re going forward regardless. This is not where the Clan stops.” His words seemed to still the air again. He looked toward Yuma for a brief moment and she picked up the hint. We need Calm. Yuma got the message and nodded as she turned her vision outward, she shouldn’t have panicked. She needed to calm down. Without Jack and his shield between her and danger and the virtual re-enactment of her traumatic pre-Cryo memory, her relatively low-Grit was getting to her. She took a deep breath.
“Shield Guard, you are stretching yourself too thin at 9 o’clock.” The Clan Head’s voice came in calm and with authority. The Shield Guard in that area readjusted their formation. Their formation was tight again.
The Door clanged shut. Its low sound possessed a certain finality to it that shook her as it echoed in the space and moved beyond the reach of their lights. The silence it left behind was renewed and strengthened, all the more oppressive for the brief clang.
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Jack had let Tule take point. Jack had wanted to reflect on the history of the RatMen as they walked through the tunnels. Tule had made a point of saying that his ‘gut’ was taking them in the ‘right direction’. Jack wasn’t about to have that crab-fuck at his back and he suspected that Tule’s gut was, at best, wrong.
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More than once Tule had messily ‘fed’ on a rat that they stumbled across. Each bite pumped tiny little shards of white hot phosphorus into the sea of Jack’s mind. The shards didn’t disperse into the sea as they should have. Normally, those motes of anger would have soaked into as they raised the temperature of the waters. No, the shards kept their form and their virulent heat continued to pump into the ocean of his mind.
It wasn’t going to boil over anytime soon but it was getting hotter by the bite. Tule better not think he could feed on one of the Ratmen. They had been forced from their Humanity because of the crabs. They were 10,000% more Human than any shelled freak science experiment.
Jack’s molar audibly cracked as Tule swiped at another rat in their path. Jack didn’t notice. Leanne turned toward Jack but refrained from saying anything. Jack didn’t notice. Jonah turned toward Jack and he froze. Jack didn’t notice. Tule, having just grabbed the dead rat, paused, turned back toward Jack. Their eyes met and locked. Tule placed his meal back on the ground.
“I believe it is this direction.” Tule looked to move away from the rat, eyes still on Jack.
“Go ahead. Eat it.” you crab-fuck. Jack’s normally light brown eyes were lit in hot red with the flecks of electric gold now adding the appearance of fiery-sparks. Tule’s eyes flashed alien-red back at him.
“I think it best if we keep moving.”
“Eat it.”
The unnaturally quiet moment was interrupted by a sting that lanced through both their forearms at the same time and caused them to whirl in the same direction.
“Calm yourself, you’re like animals. Tule, you are more disciplined than this, control your hunger. Jack, control yourself.” The back of Jonah’s neck was wet. No, more than that, it was soaked. The stares of the two were beyond uncomfortable and ripe with alien malice. After long, tense seconds they both moved their attention from Jonah’s form.
The moment was defused thanks to Jonah, but still, Jack and Tule refused to look at each other.
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Their formation continued moving, the Door behind them had closed an unknown time ago. Yuma could have checked on her portable but that would mean taking her eyes off her surroundings. She wasn’t willing to do that. The memory of her portable being split in half didn’t even cross her mind.
A metallic ‘tink’ ‘tink’ ‘tink’ sounded out and was followed by the sound of metal moving across metal floor.
She stopped herself from yelling, barely. Her efforts were pointless except to preserve her dignity as another Monitor whirled his light source toward the rolling objects and shouted, “5 o’clock!”
The Tetsudo-Orbit wasn’t a normal formation for the Clan. That and the unnatural darkness that surrounded them had everyone jumpy and on edge. The lights whirled toward and illuminated the objects.
Yuma saw them first, or at least, first to see them clearly enough to tell what they were, “Magno-Tubes…”
The closest Shield-Guard, Yanov, bent down to pick one of them up, “It’s full of Nano…”
He pocketed the Magno-Tube to a tisk and whisper from Regy next to him, “What are you doing? You don’t know what’s in that.”
“Maybe a Monitor can study it, I don’t know.” He wasn’t planning on offering it up though, it was his Nano.
Regy was about to respond but was interrupted by a Monitor who placed her hand on Yanov’s shoulder, “Excellent idea Yanov, I’ll take that.”
Yanov grumbled but handed it over. That was his Nano. Well whatever, where there’s some, there’s always more.
“Hendrew, your light in that direction. Shield-Guard on the other side, 10 o’clock, close and consolidate your position. Now.”
Hendrew pointed his hands, palms out toward the Magno-Tubes and beyond. It killed the whispered conversation between the two Shield-Guard. Nothing. Flat metal, like everything else. “Nothing here, Clan Head.”
The Clan Head paused for a moment in consideration.
“Thoughts Yuma?”
She started at the Clan Head’s words, “My stomach is in knots, it’s never wrong.” Well, that wasn’t quite true, sometimes her gut freaked out a bit more than she’d like but this time, this time it wasn’t lying to her. This, she knew.
“I agree. Why is there another gap in the Orbit?”
“Clan Head! George is gone!”
The Clan Head switched his grip on his Nano-coated rod from a walking stick to a sword grip. Something was wrong. The metal started to emit a soft yellow heat that flowed into the head of his almost rebar-like sword.
“Clarification.”
“Uh well, he was on my right flank and now Werner is.”
“Shield-Guard George, report!”
The silence was deafening.
“Check your partners.”
Two more voices sounded out, two more were missing.
A soft murmur sounded its way around them.
“Discipline. We are Clan.”
Yuma, with the sharpest Senses of the group, spoke in a low voice to the Clan Head, “It didn’t come from us, Clan Head.”
The tiniest flash of annoyance sparked on the Clan Head’s face at Yuma’s interjection but it quickly died as a light fog rolled in around their feet. It swept from one side of their group to the other, off to some unknown direction.
“Standard pacing, maintain until new orders. Head Monitor, which way?”
At no response the Clan Head softly barked, “Yosef. Which way?”
Yosef started like Yuma had just before and tapped on his portable, “My best guess is that direction, Clan Head.” Yosef pointed in the direction the fog had come from.
The group took off at the Clan Head’sorder. Cura and Telane started rotating within the outer ring of the group. The fog remained below their knees for the time being. Soft clangs, harsh taps, and other unfamiliar sounds swept over the group. Some were far away, others sounded like they came from the middle of the Tetsudo.
“Who has the greatest scanning range?”
The Monitors kept the pace up as they called out numbers, Yosef had it. He was too tense to take much pride in it at the moment.
“Tell me what’s making noise out there, mechanical or biological?”
Yosef tapped furiously on his portable, “Nothing on heartbeat. Checking thermal… peculiar readings on those scans. It looks like pockets of warm gas, but there’s strong interference. I’ll try and parse it. Mechanical readings… moving through them now… picking up something on a rare frequency,” he pointed slightly to the left of their current heading, “in that direction. Arin, I sent you the thermal data, I need it parsed and decoded.” He got an acknowledgement and Yosef switched fully to his mechanical sensors.
“Bear left 10 degrees of current heading. Corrections in bearing will come from Head Monitor Yosef.” The Clan smoothly adjusted their light jog into a slight leftward bearing.
No one wanted to blind themselves to the unknown sounds coming from outside their formation but some things couldn’t be helped, especially traveling in a group this size. The soft slapping and rhythmic padding of their footsteps filled the space around them.