Chapter Eleven
Astana
"You've got to be kidding me… "
A vein throbbed in Arsen's forehead, and his burning ears also seemed to beat in time with it. His eyes were riveted on the avenues. Although his face showed the same boredom as always, his brows was slightly furrowed. He was wearing a long coat closed with an elegant faux fur hood, and bunny slippers that did not match the rest of his outfit at all.
He was standing outside and with his back to some enormous stairs that led to a building that looked more like a huge cathedral, than the functions it actually fulfilled in reality. He was followed by three other people dressed in black suits, who watched with their mouths open towards the intersection of the avenues.
It was rush hour in Astana, and the main SID Station in Kazakhstan was located right on one of the corners of a major crossroads of the big city.
Usually, at that hour, Arsen was always in his office on the top floor of the nine-story building and from there he watched the lights of the city and the movement of the Maglev cars on the magnetic streets and other flying vehicles, while enjoying a drink of vodka after a hard day's work.
It was a moment Arsen always enjoyed, stretching his legs, very pleased with himself. It was not for nothing that he had been in the station's command chair for so many decades, since Kazakhstan was not a country considered dangerous for its Dark Events activity. It was rare for them to even have more than six, or seven, serious emergency calls throughout the year so, beyond sporadic weekly cases that didn't require the intervention of many staff or local agents, Arsen rarely had to worry.
But not that night.
That night there was no traffic, or rather, there had been no traffic for five minutes.
The huge black and red mech, at least nine meters high, had descended from the skies, shaking the structures of the neighboring buildings and breaking some parts of the pavement with its abrupt landing. The anatomy of the giant mech seemed halfway between an anthropoid insect, but with the armor of a medieval knight, giving it a stylized, but a bit bulky, appearance in some parts at the same time.
Nevermore/Enygma Vol.1 Chp.11 [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/42dd80f9-5ac6-42d5-8ccc-bcea020b6152/dfdb4e3-cf36f176-81d5-46fa-a699-026bf22b51ca.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzQyZGQ4MGY5LTVhYzYtNDJkNS04Y2NjLWJjZWEwMjBiNjE1MlwvZGZkYjRlMy1jZjM2ZjE3Ni04MWQ1LTQ2ZmEtYTY5OS0wMjZiZjIyYjUxY2EuanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.oXnbSbsFusyq7OqzWsy_MUblx0Duf7H4ujwQrR_WZHk]
Arsen had to come down from his quarters, while his ears echoed with the screams of his agents, who begged him to come down to the bunker, fearing that it was a case of a terrorist attack.
But it wasn't, and Arsen now looked at the robot, as if he wanted to send it to the scrap heap, only with the power of his eyes. But he already suspected it wasn't his pilot's fault.
A young-looking woman with furious red hair tied in a pair of pigtails at her sides stood inside the robot's cockpit, and gripped the motion controls tightly. She wore a tight-fitting pilot's suit of the same dark and red color as the robot and it emphasized her curves and generous chest.
She was not human or fey.
And even though she wasn't, and her body was composed of metal, bio-polymers and artificial organs, she could almost feel a drop of sweat trickle down her synthetic skin cheek as she saw the look on Arsen's face and the people in the streets swirling around and pointing at her robot.
The image inside was just a transmission from the robot's exterior nano-cameras but it stretched out forming a panorama inside the cockpit.
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Arsen sighed and tried to calm down, but he was really angry.
[Hey, Carissia! Tell me the event code!] Arsen yelled toward the cockpit trough his Neurowire communication.
"BEC3 Yellow-red," she said with a nervous smile.
Arsen arched one of his eyebrows and looked slightly surprised at the mech but regained his composure almost instantly and frowned again.
[Turn around go into the hangar and get into one of the ships!] He ordered, pointing to his back.
He turned around and headed down the steps followed by his small entourage. That was going to be a pain in the ass after all. But for Mai to send that code, things had to have changed enough in just a few hours. Either way, it was likely to be a problem since they were not only undercover, they were sticking their noses into something that obviously not many wanted to uncover because it was an unsolved case.
"Tell the substations that all FRTs and L4 technicians we have available at the moment to be sent to Almaty, to Kolsay Park. Advise station directors in Kyrgyzstan and China also that we have a yellow-red BEC3, with high possibility of hostile encounter, in case we need help. Have some of the nearest bases send tactical support drones. And prepare a ship for me and the Orbital Knight from Carissia to go up as well."
The agents behind Arsen rushed to send the orders to the different parts of the complex to begin a priority biohazard operation and requesting primary responders and field techs from the surrounding area to report for a night mission. But, even so, it would take at least forty-five minutes to an hour to get to the site. Getting the armored vehicles ready shouldn't take long as they were always at the ready for emergencies, but they would have to get on the transport aircraft and then ask permission from the air authorities in the area to divert any traffic if there was any.
"This is going to hurt tomorrow," he said, as he finished climbing the steps and walked back into the building.
It was going to be a damn long night for him.
***
"I don't like carrots! I don't want them! I don't want them!"
Amir Zejho smiled on his way to the kitchen, while in his arms he carried his little girl, who whined with mischievous laughter against the food, and the child patted her father's face, making funny faces at him.
"If you don't eat your food, there is no games," he said, smiling.
"But I want to play. You promised you would help me defeat the dragon," the girl pouted.
"I can't help if you don't eat your food. That dragon is strong because it eats all your food, including carrots."
Amir really was a simple man. He liked neither intrigue nor politics. Beyond his career in the army, what he appreciated more than anything else in the world were those moments with his family that he could enjoy every time he had days off. Seeing his happy wife, whom he had also met at the Military Academy, and watching his daughter grow up, were worth more to him than all the decorations he had earned in his long career.
So when he walked into the kitchen and saw his wife with a serious look on her face, staring at the TV in the living room, he was surprised.
"Aya? What's wrong, honey?"
Ayakoz Zejho turned to look at him with a frown and shook her head.
"Those Nevermore people are crazy. Can you believe this?"
Amir Zehjo wiped the smile off his face, as he watched the news broadcast what was happening downtown ,where one of Nevermore's Orbital Knights had just landed.
Nevermore's Orbital Knights were always news, they were very eye-catching robots, but they almost always tended to act in stealth. This one, however, was somewhat known, and Amir Zehjo knew it.
It had been rumored for years that this mecha was one of those that served as personal custody to the SID's Operations Director. A director he himself had the pleasure of meeting only a couple of nights ago. For that very reason, Amir felt a chill, wondering if what he was seeing on the news had something to do with him.
He was rambling on when something else was added to the list of worries.
An incoming call from General Zedenov had just popped into his brain.
" Shit… " Amir said.
"Watch your language," Aya scolded him.
"Shit!" the little girl cheered.
Her daughter's carrots were probably going to be the least of his problems that night.