CHAPTER 11
The tunnel was linked to the police station along Verdania, where Officer McJoel and a couple of civilian and uniformed survivors had been taking shelter for the past five days. We blocked the way back down to the quarantine facility with a few file cabinets. All the windows of the stration were boarded with wood, so the only illumination was the dim bulbs hanging on the ceiling. The place was pretty well-maintained too, all things considered - a few trashed tables and chairs here and there, but otherwise pristine.
“I don’t quite understand, officer,” I began when he finished explaining the situation.
“Just ‘Reese’ is fine, sir. Was barely a week into the new job anyway.”
“Right, Reese. You’re asking us to help you rescue some of your friends. But why… us, specifically?”
“Yeah, and why did they even kidnap 11 Branded anyway?” Gene added. Arkham was leaning against the wall, just observing us silently. I offered him a chair, but he shook his head. Reese was pacing around the room impatiently - I think this was the former interrogation room, so I guess he’s aware of the enhanced hearing of some Skjults - as he explained again.
“If you wanted me daed, you’d either be with that mob, or would be at each other’s throats arguing who gets to kill me.” He looked as dead in the eye, looking for anything that might contradict his guesses. “Right. And you three are literally the first normal people I’ve seen in the past 18 hours. I’m… I’m a little desperate here.”
“I wouldn’t call us ‘normal’...” I muttered. Gene shot me a dirty look before saying, “Two of us have Brands less than a week old, man. That guy in the jacket seems more experienced, but I haven’t seen him do anything related to his Brand yet.” The usual grunt from Arkham confirmed his agreement. “And our fourth member is missing, and HE would’ve been very useful for this kind of thing.”
Reese stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. “Wait, you mean Noire?”
“You know him?!”
“I… I saw him sneak out of that door. I wasn’t expecting ANYONE to go back there... he didn’t make any footsteps, so I couldn’t find him when he ran away. Got captured within seconds of exiting the station.” He put his hands on his hips, frustrated. “Shit, and I rescued him back at the facility too.”
“...you’re Branded.”
“It shouldn’t be a surprise anymore, sir, but yes, I’m Branded.” He pulled down the collar of this uniform, revealing a black mark that looked like three trapezoids:
[https://i.imgur.com/v3vAm3b.png]
Wait, those weren’t trapezoids. “Ingots. Those are metal ingots when viewed from the front. You’re… Eisen!”
“Whoa, what? No way, man. Wasn’t the big boy from this morning an Eisen?” Gene asked, perplexed.
“Ah,” Reese replied matter-of-factly, “my first week was relatively peaceful, sir. My Brand barely had any reason to act up aside from that one night I was drafted to help the quarantined Branded escape.”
“Excuse me, escape?” Reese waved away my questions.
“I promise to answer all your questions when I can, sir, but right now, we need to plan a rescue.” He stepped outside and I heard him searching for something in the main area of the police station.
Arkham finally spoke up. “He’s already assumed we’re going to help.” He was looking at me with an eyebrow raised. “I say this is a waste of time. Weren’t we supposed to go to the Egg anyway? Maybe Noire’s already there.”
I could feel my blood pressure go up a few notches, but I kept my head cool. “We are NOT leaving without him. There’s a huge chance that the group who kidnapped Reese’s friends is the same one that got Noire.” I began checking my gun again, despite not having actually shot it since the penthouse. “Until I - we - can confirm that, we’re helping Reese.”
Our dour companion stayed silent, leering my way even as I re-counted the bullets. Still ten. Meanwhile Gene was just sitting, arms crossed, also deep in thought. “I’m with Blaze. Noire saved me last night. Even cooked up a nice meal. I don’t wanna just leave him for dead.”
I put the Tesla back into its holster. “That’s 2 against 1, Arkham. Sorry.” He scowled, but he didn’t make a move, so I continued. “This could also be an opportunity for us to show what we’re capable of. Then maybe you can join the team permanently.”
No response. I took that as a yes and waited for Reese to return; he was still making a lot of noise rummaging around the station. Maybe it was just a coincidence that we started talking in the interrogation room.
I hope this place is soundproof….
Thunder rumbled overhead, stronger than ever before. Closer, even. The already-dim station got even darker as, I assumed, more clouds rolled in. Arkham looked worriedly at the ceiling, as if expecting it to fall over our heads. “Still no water in those clouds?” I finally asked. He shook his head.
“Alright, folks, sorry for the wait,” Reese said, laying down blueprints on the table. “Police blueprint of Verdania, sir,” he clarified when I raised an eyebrow. “We're around here, in the middle. The leader's Brand allows him to project his voice without any effort, as well as the voice of anyone nearby. So going by the volume… The mob should be somewhere along the elevated walkway between the IC and Industria.”
“....height advantage,” I guessed.
“And it's way easier to get around, sir. Plus anyone they don't like, they can just toss over.”
Gene leaned over the blueprints now. “Doesn't this mean they also control the only way up and down the walkways, though?”
“Glad you noticed, sir! Here,” Reese said as he traced his fingers along the image of the walkway. Three sets of eyes followed, until he got to the northwestern end of Verdania, where a support beam stood. I squinted, trying to see what was so special about it.
“I don't get it,” Gene said, crossing his arms. “The walkway's several meters up. We can't just shimmy up there without getting noticed.”
Arkham spoke in Reese' presence for the first time. “There. It's barely visible, but there's a pair of arrows along the column.”
Realization was slowly dawning on me. “Wait, but… would it still have power?”
Reese nodded, his face serious. “It's for officers only, sir. Runs on a completely independent fuel cell, though Verdania's model is… older.”
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“Shit.” I closed my eyes and pinched my forehead. I knew exactly what Reese meant by 'older model'.
Green Logistics designed the damn thing.
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“Why the fuck would they agree to this model?” I whispered angrily. “It's like they didn't bother considering my research!”
Bertram looked around his cubicle nervously, making sure no one else was listening in. “Blaze, will you calm the fuck down?! I know I'm your friend and all, but you're gonna get us both in trouble!”
It took all my self control not to tear up the paper in my hand. My vision turned red just reading it again.
We have considered your proposal, and have come to the conclusion that model Beta-P is the appropriate fuel cell for our client.
-Nathaniel Greene
“It's. Not. Feasible.” With every word I slapped my friend’s cubicle with the letter.
Bertram turned away from me, focusing again on his monitor. “We're in New Pines. Land of innovation. The concepts born in this city are so advanced we might as well be a different country.”
I wasn't quite done with my complaints. “Then tell me. What the hell are they powering that requires a literal pool of water to work?”
He shrugged in irritation. “Dunno. An elevator or something?”
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I opened my eyes again and explained the situation to the others.
“Y’know, this kinda sounds like it might actually work...” Gene muttered excitedly.
I nodded. “Assuming there's water inside, yes. The other problem would be if there's any damage to the pool itself.”
“Ah. That might prevent the pool from filling up properly, sir?”
“Right. Reese. Then there's the fuel cell itself.” I took out one of the nanobot tubes and put it on the table. “If it's damaged in any way, I can use this to fix it.”
“Wait, didn't you say you needed to program them last night, man?”
“I need to program them for something completely new. But Green Logistics designed their nanos to be able to spread their code onto other nanos they get into contact with.” To demonstrate, I took a handful and put them against my wildly-colored shirt. They formed a small scrap of fabric that I swiped on several times to change its color. Reese and Arkham's eyes widened.
“...I thought you two idiots just ran through a paint store or something,” Arkham commented dryly.
"Very funny."
Reese got over his surprise with a shake of his head. “So we go to the end of Verdania, check the pool, check the fuel cell, and if it all works, we can use the elevator. Do I have that right, sir?”
“Yep”, I confirmed as I put the tube back into my bag. "Should be easy. Though we're gonna need some weapons, just in case.”
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At my request, Reese first led me and Gene to a working computer at the very back of the station. I plugged in a flash drive containing the program that disabled our the color-changing function on our clothes. “Better pick your favorite color.”
I settled for a plain blue collared shirt, and Gene went for a white-and-green striped design with a crest of a shield on the back. Next, I plugged in a second flash drive that would transmit the designs and the program itself to the nanos. Our shirts immediately stabilized into our chosen colors. I swiped at mine just to make sure; it stayed a plain blue no matter how hard I tried.
"...I'm gonna miss my magic shirt."
"Heh. Me too, Gene. Me too."
We came back to the interrogation room, where Arkham and Reese were whittling wood into spears. The former sailor had a huge stack near him; Reese had two, and one of them was broken in half.
"Nice job, officer," Gene teased. Reese didn't look at him, but his hand still slipped and the knife shaved off too much of an otherwise great-looking tip. He glared at Gene, who held up two hands even as he laughed.
"Ignore him, Reese."
"...aye, sir. Do you need anything else?"
I thought about it for a bit. We needed a way to signal Noire in case he got away or wasn't part of the captured Branded. "One flashlight for each of us. As strong as you can get 'em. Then some cardboard. Some vests wouldn't hurt either." Reese got up and motioned for me to follow him, while Gene took his turn making spears.
“I gotta say, sir, I'm surprised you didn't ask for guns. Well,” he corrected as he eyed Ysandra's Tesla, “for more guns.” He went inside a dingy looking room lined with locked shelves and cabinets.
“I fired my gun in close quarters without ear protection. I haven't been that close to a gunshot in… a decade or so, but Gene' ears bled a little.” I stepped inside the room and checked out the lockers and cabinets. A lot were empty, and those that weren't had been opened and pillaged already.
“A civilian with a sense of gun safety? Impressive, sir.” Reese's voice came from somewhere behind a fallen stack of lockers. “Nice weapon though. Tesla. That yours, sir?”
“...am I talking to an officer or an acquaintance?” He laughed.
“Got all your bases covered, sir. Very smart. I like that.” A familiar box flew out from where Reese was, followed by a few styrofoam pieces. The box landed open side up, but the styrofoam scattered all over the place. “Ah, shit. How did he do it?”
I picked up the styrofoam and lined the box with it. “Who did what?”
Reese finally popped back out, flashlights in hand. He carefully put them all inside the box then started exiting the room. I followed behind, of course. “My old superior officer, sir. The grumpy guy back at HH? Yeah, him,” he said with a laugh when I scoffed. “He'd toss styro into boxes and line it with the stuff perfectly.”
“...is he okay?”
“He, uh… he Disappeared, sir. Few minutes before our plan at the facility.” His tone was somber, and he didn't say another word until we got back to our friends, who in turn were counting how many spears they made.
“...57… 58… 59… 60?! Holy shit, Arkham.” For once Arkham had the tiniest smile on his face, but it didn't last. Reese tapped me on the shoulder then went back out to look for some vests.
“Alright, gents. Cut out a small circle about the size of the flashlights' lenses,” I instructed. “Then cut out a crescent moon from those bits.” I was gonna toss out the styrofoam, but instead I plucked out a few pieces and put them inside my ears. They weren't perfect, but….
“‘scuse me, sir.” Reese nudged past me and put down some stuff on the table - not just vests, but also several pairs of knee, shoulder, and elbow pads. I whistled in admiration.
“Appreciate it Reese,” I said as I inspected the items. Carbon fiber vests… lightweight, bullet resistant, fire retardant. My eyes went over to my Brand, which was glowing a very dark orange - it must be getting colder. “...put these on, boys. Remember, inside the shirt.” I tapped my ears also. “And some styrofoam in your pockets. Use 'em like earplugs.”
Gene and Arkham were turning over the armor in their hands now, a hint of surprise in their faces. “Never thought I'd see the day you Blueys help me,” Arkham grunted.
“If it helps, sir,” Reese said as he put the spears into a makeshift sling, “I'd like to apologize for whatever my fellow police officers have done to you.”
I nodded, then rubbed my hands together. That old feeling I used to have everyday more than a decade ago was slowly creeping back out. Despite what happened last time… it still felt good.
Can I do this? Should I do this?
As long as you keep your cool, we'll be fine.
“...suit up. We've got a job to do.”