I quickly sift through the other drawers, but none of them have off-coloured folders. The only one of which now rests snugly under my arm as I stand up and make my way to a cleared desk close to the salt elemental. It gives off a little light, making it easier to see against the setting sun.
“Got something here.”
Ursula rips the screen off one of the TVs with a grunt, rummages around in the cavity, and pulls out something that glimmers brilliant white. She tilts her head to the side, turns around, and walks right up to the desk with me.
“Looks like I’ve got something too.” She says as she places the chunk of glimmering salt next to my file. “No idea what it is or what it does, but I’ve got it. You got the file?”
“Pretty damn sure.” I say as I flip it open to reveal the picture and everything beneath it. “This is either our client or someone important to this job, and I haven’t checked out anything else yet. You want to do the honours?”
She nods and reaches to spread out all the documents. “Don’t mind if I do. Does the picture instantly bring anyone to mind for you?”
“Yeah, but not for the reason you’re thinking.” I sigh and cross my arms as Ursula studies the woman’s picture. “I… well, she was in town when the dragonjet attacked. And I might’ve ran into her before I killed it.”
Ursula’s eyebrows shoot to her forehead. “No shit?” Damn, sister, that’s crazy good luck. We might not’ve had a client if you weren’t there at that exact moment.”
That’s one way to look at it, I guess. I lean in to get a closer look at something that looks like a blueprint for some kind of vault, except there’s a certain… weirdness to it. Now I’m no expert, but most vaults don’t have magical shit woven into them like carbon into iron to make steel. And absolutely everything is purely mechanical; no electricity or power of any kind to be seen. Almost like this thing was made specifically to store magical stuff without falling to the apocalypse.
I poke the vault’s door with my fingertip. “This is definitely where she’s keeping the coins. But if she’s got something like this, there’d be no reason to keep it inside of the rig. So… should we even look inside?”
“Oh, definitely. Nice subject change, by the way.” Ursula chuckles as she flips over a page of hand-written notes. “Huh. This woman’s way more invested in all this magic shit than I thought. Which definitely means we’re not the first ones she sent here.”
Ursula quickly finishes skimming through the notes and hands them to me. “That’s all the info on our client we’re going to get. And none of it’s going to be in the computer, that’s for damn sure.”
“So should I stop looking?” March asks.
“Just for the client. Keep looking for everything else that’ll help us navigate this hellhole.” Ursula replies and takes a stack of printed-out maps for herself. “Actually, take to the internet and search for ‘Gisela Garza’. See if our client’s got anything we should be worried about that she hasn’t decided to tell us.”
Gisela Garza. That name rings absolutely no bells, but that’s no surprise to me. I’ve always been pretty bad with names, and combined with how little free time I’ve had the last few years means I haven’t heard of anything that wasn’t important enough to be played in a break room. She has to be at least a little important, though, or else she wouldn’t have a stockpile of coins in a safe that looks custom built for that very purpose.
I shake my head and glance down at the hand-written page between my fingers. It’s stapled to another two pages, but the last one is only half-filled with words. The other half’s filled with some kind of drawing that doesn’t mean anything to me, but might be important later down the line. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s see what Gisela left for us.
‘Hello, whoever you are. If you’ve come here on my request, I welcome you to this horrible place and apologize for the mess. If you are here without my knowledge, I hope this place claims your body and soul before you can touch something you know nothing about.’
I snort and roll my eyes. What better way to start a greeting than with an idle threat? Pearl smacks her palm against something a few times, then motions for me to turn the page. Which I’m not even half done reading yet. So I guess I better read faster.
‘I purchased this wreckage from the company who wished to dispose of it a few years ago. The seas around this rig are nearly bereft of value, which made it the perfect place to safely store my life’s work; the coins. All preserved in a vault in the deepest reaches of the rig’s innards. If I have asked you to get them, I wish you all the luck in the world in reaching those depths. If you are not… well, I shall just reiterate on the third sentence of this note.’
Third sentence? I scan back up to the top, and sure enough, the third sentence is the one about the rig claiming my body and soul. Gisela’s really keen on the whole ‘with my permission’ thing. I flip the page before Pearl can say anything else, gently tucking it behind the third and leaning against the desk to read further.
‘Now, since you have kept reading, you are obviously interested in me. I am something of a minor celebrity, though it is for all the wrong reasons. You may look into that if you have the ability to. But what you are probably more interested in is this; I have many family members who have traveled to the other world. Many of which have come back successful, and many of which have not come back at all. We were test subjects for more ‘influential’ people. Those people are out of the picture.’
“Okay, if that’s not a threat, I don’t know what is.” I chuckle to myself as Pearl puffs out her cheeks and silently chides me for being a slow reader. “Mercenary, did you actually read all this?”
“Yup.” Ursula confirms. “Looks like a crime family if I’d have to guess, but it could just be a high society thing. You’d have to ask Banker about that.”
Noland? That guy was famous? I mean… he does have a shitload of money. You don’t get that without fame or massive success. And I kind of thought he was, like, an oil baron’s kid. Old money, you know? Guess not. Well, back to reading before Pearl has an aneurism.
‘Now I alone have the authority to call for coins to be removed from the vault. You will venture to the deepest reaches and take only what I have instructed you to take. If I find out that more have been taken, you will suffer the consequences–this I promise you. Now I leave you with one last musing, and one last warning; this place is not under any nation’s control. Even though I own the metal and materials, I do not own the ocean underneath. If anyone sensed your arrival, I do not have the power to ward them off. You must do that under your own power. But if I saw fit to hire you, that should not be a problem.’
I roll my eyes and flip to the last page. What a diva. And she directly contradicted what’s written here in our brief conversation. But as I start reading… there’s a difference. The handwriting is almost exactly the same, but just slightly different enough to be noticeable. And the tone almost sounds like someone trying to copy the slightly threatening and slightly demeaning notes of the first two pages. Just too defensive to be by the same person.
‘The coins inside the vault are the property of our family. We have collected them through legitimate means, no matter what others say, and we have a rightful claim to them. No matter what you think, we are not monsters. Just people doing what we had to do to survive. You will need these if you want to open the vault and get out alive.’
Following the words are a series of strange drawings; a five legged snake with two tongues, a goat with three wings and six eyes, a cross made out of four old-timey keys, and a skull with an eight sided angular pattern on its forehead that almost looks like it could mean something. I stare at them for a good few seconds trying to get any meaning out of the bunch, but they’re a complete mystery to me.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Ursula taps me on the shoulder, stirring me out of my own thoughts. “Hey. Architect’s got a map of this place pulled up, and she’s synching it to the reality around us right now. What’d you think of the drawings?”
“I have absolutely no idea.” I sigh and set the pages down. “Did that last paragraph sound like it was written by someone else to you?”
“...No? Just a little more defensive than the rest of the letter. Why? You think someone else added it after the fact?”
“I have no idea what I think, but Gisela ordered us to get two coins. So we shouldn’t rule anything out.” I say and look down at the directions that Ursula has yet to touch. “Are these going to be of any use at all?”
“Hell no.” She laughs. “If there’s anything left of the original floor plan, then we’d still be gambling on the safe being in the same place as before. Which I highly doubt it is. So we’ll be relying on Architect’s constantly generating map which is based off of the original architecture of this place. Speaking of; what’s the ETA for that sucker?”
“Ten minutes.” March relays instantly. “You should make your way to the main building. It’ll be done by the time you get your bearings.”
Ursula nods and gestures at the door. “You heard the lady. Let’s get moving.”
Before I follow her in unsealing the room, I fold the hand-written note and stuff it into my back pocket. Just in case we need one of the drawings for some reason. Ursula peels away the thing she put up like simple tape, flings the door open, and holds it for me as salt pours into the room. Instinctively I grab the salt elemental core with one hand and hop out of the room, then wait for Ursula to slam the door shut behind us.
She stares at the core until I let it go. “That’s one way of dealing with the problem. Much easier than scrambling to seal up the room every time we go in and out, too. Except for the fact that we’re going to have to fight it at some point.”
I dust the salt off my hands and look down at the massive drop. “Better than trying to sleep with it hovering over us. You got another ladder? I’m running low-ish on Worth that’s not in Banker’s account.”
“No need for a ladder. Not with a slope this slick.” Ursula leans down and smacks her hand against what were once stairs. “Might need a crash pad, though. For you. I’ll go down first and set it up.”
“You aren’t seriously thinking of–” I start as Ursula bares her teeth to me in an excited smile. “Shit, alright, but don’t come crying to me when you break every bone in your body.”
Salty spray barrages the both of us as Ursula slowly gets herself in position to slide down the un-staired stairs. I shake my head and start to look away, but something stops me from fully distancing myself. Part of me wants to see this train wreck through. The other part of me wants to hop on the ramp right after Ursula and feel the salty air assault my face as I slide towards certain doom.
“See you in a minute!” Ursula whoops and pushes herself onto the ramp. “YEAHHH!!!” She screams as the slick surface rips her away, careening her down, down, and down some more. Then she crashes into the bottom, rolls a few times, and wobbles to her feet while laughing and shaking a little.
Damn. Why’d that have to look like fun?
Metal meets hands as I lower myself until I’m sitting on the edge of the platform. The long stretch of ramp unfurls below me like the world’s weirdest waterslide, and instead of jumping from my chest, my heart just beats faster and faster in anticipation. There definitely should be some fear here. Like, a whole lot of fear. Enough fear to make an entire stadium uneasy. But there’s only spine-tingling excitement–something right next to fear, but without any of the reluctance that stops me from doing something incredibly dangerous.
Ursula points and laughs at me, then summons her briefcase and pulls out an entire crash mat from the thing. She makes a show of fluffing it out like a comforter, lays it gingerly down at the foot of the ramp, and makes a ‘there you go’ motion with her hands before stepping away. I push off before she can take two steps.
Wind and salt batter my face along with the constant mist of the ocean spray. I strain to keep my eyes open against the force as my body squeals sharply on the metal slope. Something wells up in my chest as I struggle to keep myself from falling flat on my back and smashing my head open on the ramp. It keeps growing and growing with every second the world flies by until a scream fueled by adrenaline and exhilaration rips free from my lungs and tears through the squeal of the slide.
Pearl laughs giddily right along with me. She catches herself almost immediately after the noise, but the grin on her face can’t be contained with her hands over her mouth. And then, just as quickly as it began, the crash pad overtakes my entire world as I slam into it feet first. I yelp in surprise as my legs get caught perfectly straight, sending me bolt upright and staggering for a few dozen awareness-aided steps before I finally manage to get my footing.
Ursula whoops in triumph and claps me on the shoulder. “Nothing like a little adrenaline to get the blood pumping! Oh, uh, sorry for the noise, Architect.”
“Don’t worry about it. I saw it coming.” March says tensely. “Just, um, try not to yell so much. Please.”
“Yeah. Sorry again.” Ursula apologizes with a wince at March’s tone. “Point us towards the entrance, please?”
I try to tone out the quick little exchange between the two of them, but it’s sort of hard when March is directly in my ear. There’s something I need to talk to Pearl about–something that could be pretty damn important–but there’s really not a great time to do that any more. Not until it’d be appropriate to pull out my Class Card, and she can actually talk without risking March overhearing.
But I need to know if that excitement was all me. Or if she has a part in it.
“Alright, thanks. You’re doing great, so keep doing what you’re doing.” Ursula tells March, then turns to me and nods in the direction of the main structure. “You heard the woman. Unless the apocalypse decided to change around where the entrance is, we’ve got a short walk on our hands.”
I raise my chin in acknowledgement as I wait for Ursula to get out ahead of me. She shrugs and takes the lead, and I fall in step right after. The rig clanks and rings out with every footstep, somehow louder than when the mist was still there, and the groans of straining metal echo out like the labored wails of a massive beast. In less than two weeks, this will be a krarig. One of the most dangerous apocalyptic creations the world has ever seen. Depending on which way it decides to go, a country could get it just as bad as Greenland did.
“So… who’s going to kill this thing?”
Ursula shrugs. “Depends who decides they want to kill it. Krarig parts are ludicrously expensive, so there’s a market for killing them, but I doubt there’s a lot of groups strong enough to do so.” She thinks for a second, then raises all five of the fingers on her right hand. “I can think of five organizations with enough firepower to take it down. The preservation’s number one, obviously. We’re number two, but we’re not ready to move out for an event like this. Number three is shared by a bunch of different government militaries. And numbers four and five… well…”
She shakes her head and sighs. “They haven’t been seen in years, but we’re pretty sure they’re just in hiding. One of ‘em is a group like us; calls themselves The Unheard. And the other’s the preservation’s main competition; HuSt.”
That name nearly gives me whiplash with how strong the memories it brings come in. Humanity Strong–also known as HuSt–was one of the orgs that popped up in the wake of the apocalypse. Just like the preservation. The difference was that they were much more of a group of powerful individuals–like the resort–but united under a much more official banner. Scandals and allegations ripped the org a new one, and I haven’t heard anything about them in… it’s gotta be at least five years now.
“You really think HuSt’s still kicking?” I ask warily. “Because some of the shit they got accused of… well, they made new laws because of them.”
“You don’t gotta tell me. I had the displeasure of working for them for a few years. As plain old non-magical infantry before I got my Class Coin.” Ursula shakes her head and chuckles humourlessly. “The things I heard… the things I ignored… I tried to make most of it right, but some things you can’t fix. You just gotta try to make ‘em as right as possible. If HuSt is still around–which I can almost guarantee they are–they’ll make sure the krarig goes down and disappears without a trace. Good for people in general, but that’s putting a lot of dangerous materials in the hands of dangerous people.”
God damn. I always knew Earth wasn’t super safe after the apocalypse hit, but I always sort of thought we’d hashed it out. Got rid of most of the really awful shit that happened in the apocalypse’s wake. But I guess that’s wishful thinking.
Ursula notices the expression on my face and nods with sympathy. “Hey, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe some powerful individual will kill the krarig for nothing more than clout. Weirder things have happened before.”
I shake my head to try and clear the worry. “It’s not the krarig I’m worried about. …Alright, it is the krarig, but it’s not only the krarig. I mean… what if there are more organizations like HuSt? Ones operating in the shadows with less than noble intentions?”
“Oh, sister, there are. Dozens and dozens of ‘em. We’re doing our best to choke out their business, but there are still plenty of countries that won’t use anything we give ‘em. But that’s a worry for another day. Like when we decide if we’re going to do that job for the Chinese woman.” Ursula smiles reassuringly and nods towards the main building. “The comfort of the apocalypse-touched oil rig beckons.”