After getting over my surprise of seeing a SOPO officer playing guard dog on the drone's feed, I come to the conclusion that this was something I should have seen coming. It was SOPO that retrieved the codex from the sarcophagus in the first place after all and it was ultimately delivered to Naiberg, a human. Since working for Fate was something any of the three species were capable of, I could not write off the possibility inter-species cooperation just like that.
What was more pressing was the issue of The City's official support for whatever was going on here. Uniformed SOPO officers would not show up if this was just a private initiative on the part of a band of cultists.
The drone's camera pans slowly in the other direction, likely to prevent the SOPO officer of catching sight of the movement. Once the camera stops, I see a large wooden double door on the monitor, the only set of doors I have seen so far on this floor. What gets my attention is the thick length of lush green vine tied across the door's handles. More than just not leaving their posts, the SOPO officers had barricaded themselves in the inner defense layer. Hats off to their dedication.
"Can you take care of that door?" I ask The Voice.
The Voice rasps in distress, "I can unlock it, but the vine holding the door fast is still alive. I have no power over the vine. You will either have to break the door down or find another way through."
Damn. While this place is far less secure than Fate's place of power, it was set up in such a way as to foil The Voice. Breaking the door down was a non-starter. Even if I could mind trick the guard into ignoring it, I would have no way of preventing the other guards from noticing the damage once I left the area. This was a sure fire recipe for triggering an alert.
I look about the security station for something I can use. My eyes fall on one of the boarded up windows and the idea of removing the boards to gain access to the tower's exterior comes to mind. Then I hopefully would be able to bypass the door and gain access through a different route. But the same problem would arise. The guards would notice the damage after I left.
I begin flipping through the logbook in consternation, hoping for some kind of clue. Nothing more than a record of deliveries made to the 50th floor are recorded within, most of which I can't make sense of.
"What's a PMU Soul Smasher Array?" I remark while continuing scanning through the logbook.
"Laboratory equipment." The Voice answers, "Fate is likely trying to set up a replacement facility at this location to weaponize the codex. That would explain all the crates and machinery scattered about. The deliveries have been made, but the installation has not yet been done."
Huh. Fate is probably holding back on calling the technicians in since it would immediately provide an opening for me to make my grand entrance. While Fate's caution has bought us some additional time, it was only a matter of when not if, Fate comes to a sufficiently secure arrangement to set this place up.
Reading the logbook further, I see food items have been included in the deliveries. Bottled water and sealed rations. That was probably the reason why the SOPO detachment never needed to leave the inner area. Everything they needed was brought to them. What's more curious is that from the date of the food deliveries, this arrangement has been going on for way longer than the time the codex was actually deposited here.
And there's the really freaky stuff on the delivery list as well. Saline drips. Blood packs. Antibiotics. Adult diapers. Liquefied food products. Oxygen tanks. Again, deliveries for all these medical supplies started way before the codex got here. That only meant one thing. This place had been originally set up to protect something else, or more likely someone else. Most likely from The Voice taking into account the place's configuration. The codex only came into the picture later.
"Can your drone complete the mission by itself?" I ask while glancing at the monitor and putting down the logbook.
"No." The Voice rumbles, as the monitor shows the drone darting back into the vent, "There are too many guards for me to evade. We need your ability to blind them in order to make any headway."
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I return to the corridor I was in and look down it to see the wooden double door leading into the inner area. No good going that way. I can't stay here for long either, the guard will probably be returning soon. Then an idea strikes. Looking up at the ceiling, I see that it is covered with wooden slats, with cutaways for the lights. The same arrangement I saw at the Tower's lobby. The Host must have gotten a discount on a bulk buy. Heading back to the security station, I climb onto the bank of monitors, using the height to reach the ceiling with my working arm.
Tapping the slat within my reach, the sound confirms that the area behind it is hollow. Good. I then push at the slat and it lifts without resistance having merely being rested against a metal frame drilled into the concrete. Yes.
Pushing the slat to the side, I gather my power into my legs and leap into the crawlspace between floors. My momentum carries me through the gap opened and my head smacks into concrete. My left hand forcefully digs into the concrete around me, allowing me to hang on despite the shock of knocking my head.
Looking about, the crawlspace is way smaller and than I thought, but it is still traverseable, as long as I remain scrunched up on all fours.
"Will the frame and the slats be able to take my weight?" I question.
The Voice says, "No. I will help in holding the ceiling up though. Proceed with what you are doing."
Awesome. No way the guards here would guess that a grown man would be scuttling through the crawlspace since it would be physically impossible without The Voice lending a hand. I pull my lower body through the gap and settle into an uncomfortable squat before sliding the wooden slat back into place. I then begin making my way in the direction of the inner layer using an uncomfortable shuffle-crawl.
As I squeeze my way past the assorted vents and electrical wiring, The Voice rasps out mirthfully, "Squeezing yourself into the cab's boot was good practice was it not? Already putting the lessons to use I see."
"Very funny." I grumble while pausing to get my bearings. Using the matter sense that The Voice had imparted to me, I scan for a suitable location to drop down from the ceiling. The powers report that there is a large cluster of assorted food and medical supplies close to my location. Probably a store room of some kind. As good a place as any I suppose. I begin dragging my body in that general direction.
Once I sense that I am right on top of the pile of clutter, I stop moving and lift up one of the wooden slabs to take a peek. What is below me is a room plunged in darkness with the dim outlines of various boxes and shelves barely visible. I quickly drop down from the ceiling and give my limbs a good stretching to work out the soreness acquired from my journey here. Nice. A locked storeroom to serve as my entry and exit point. The boxes would also serve as a makeshift stepladder when I wanted to leave.
"The drone cannot move freely because of the SOPO patrols." The Voice informs me, "I will not be able to monitor guard movements for you."
"Got it." I reply as I manually unlock the door and step out of the store room.
And find myself staring face to face at three police officers seated at a long table each sullenly chowing down on a bowl of slop,. They look up from their disgusting meal in surprise and their hands begin moving to the pistols holstered by their sides.
Ignore!
My mental command hits the group like a tidal wave and they go back to their meal. Just as I am about to move on however, a sudden sharp pain rising from deep within my bones sends me stumbling. It must be the stress building up from using the core. There must be a hard limit on how many people I can bamboozle before Gallant's body gives out. From the discomfort that I am feeling, I am probably close to that limit.
"Can I attack someone while they are mind blasted like this?" I whisper to The Voice.
"You could try," The Voice says, "but I do not recommend it. Your commands are not strong enough to override the natives' instinct for survival or fundamental natures. Do something overtly hostile or order them to perform an act completely out of character and they will reject your commands as a matter of course."
The spider drone then crawls out from a heating vent and makes its way out of the makeshift cafeteria through a bare concrete arch which is probably meant to have a door installed. I cover my nose as I pass a cheap metal sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes and follow the drone's lead. Discipline must be pretty bad around here. No surprise if you are being cooped up for a long period of time.
The drone quickly scuttles into yet another vent in the room ahead of me, which contains several rows of double bunks and piles of unwashed laundry. A crude barracks for the SOPO officers stationed here then. There are no weapons lying about though. The officers must keep the good stuff locked away somewhere else. Still, what is available here is suitable for my needs. I hurriedly change into one of the discarded uniforms lying about and holster the menacer revolver and baton to the uniform's equipment belt. Once that is done, I climb onto one of the bunk beds and stuff my sex offender outfit into the crawlspace for retrieval later.
This way I can rely on the confusion caused by my condition to get round the guards instead of overusing the powers. I leave the barracks and extend my senses, tracking the movements of the patrols. And close by I sense an alien presence. The codex.
Time to see what the fuss is all about.