Kyreeda paced impatiently around the break room, oblivious to the subordinates watching her carefully from the corner. She needed movement to stir her thoughts. She hated stillness. It drained her of vital energy. The plan to expose Domrik was consuming most of her mental bandwidth. Even the war schedule had to be put on the backburner. If she didn't take care of him soon, the war would be thwarted.
The world needed war. How else could they appreciate peace?
She knew he had been communicating with the Eredore Guard, but the details of those meetings were still out of her reach. Her research team hadn't found strong enough leverage on any of the Guards to secure their cooperation. He knew something, and she feared that knowledge. Jase had been useful for the first few hours of testing, before he apparently saw the purpose of their experiments and started to deliberately mix results. She was close to threatening to get his family involved, but that would require weeks more of planning. It was never easy to operate without drawing attention. Domrik was the more valuable target. For now.
The ping of her wristpad shook her out of her thoughts. It was Makalai. She stormed out of the room to give the conversation a bit more privacy. "What is it?"
"Our sensors have detected an anomaly over the Preserve region," the wizened communications expert said. "You ought to take a look."
He sent over several windows, each showing a different view of the night sky. The only thing in common was the red spot traversing slowly over the land. Kyreeda changed her path and headed for the Comms room as she enlarged the images and enhanced the quality. The faint moonlit facade of a Guard Jet stood out against the blackness. "Have we assigned any patrols for this hour? Do we have a malfunctioning illusion generator?"
"Unfortunately, neither. This is an Eredore Guard Jet emitting the typical transponder codes. They appear to be looking for something."
"I'm on my way," she said, picking up the pace. She was somewhat relieved to have a more immediate problem than Domrik. It was something more tangible for her mind to grasp.
Makalai swiveled in his usual spot, the center of a spread of datascreens. At any given moment, it was almost guaranteed he was paying attention to multiple things at once. That was why he was assigned to the position years ago. Kyreeda suspected the two hemispheres of his brain weren't fully connected to each other, allowing an almost inhuman level of multitasking. The thought of attempting such a level of productivity gave her a headache.
"Show me the best view we've got," she demanded as she strode up behind him, arms folded. One of the screens tripled in size, blocking out most of the others. The Jet was currently traversing directly overhead, its flight speed a crawl compared to what those craft could do. She estimated no more than fifty KPH. The screens switched automatically once it passed out of frame.
After a few minutes of spectating, Makalai turned toward her. "Orders, Lead Operator?"
"We stay quiet," she said. "No need to provoke them. Their mission will conclude after they find nothing. You will, however, make good use of your contacts to get intel on this unusual Guard mission. Have them break whatever rules they must."
His hand had already begun typing on a screen he wasn't even watching. "What of using the Scythe's resources?"
"Let him be. He seems to be hanging low, waiting for events to unfold naturally. I imagine everyone craves a vacation eventually. We can handle this."
She grew more uncomfortable as the minutes passed. Could this have to do with Domrik? It would be a big coincidence if it didn't. But how could it? Jase didn't have his own wristpad when he infiltrated the facility. He could have planted a tracking device somewhere, but so far, nobody found anything. They were so far underground, it was hard to imagine any type of signal reaching the surface. They would have detected those emissions anyway, even if they had originated from above the surface. So was this a coincidence? She scowled at the lack of an answer.
Her spine stiffened when the craft eased to a hover. What had they found? The Eredore Guard didn't have knowledge of illusions, let alone illusion detectors. The Crimson Vein had made sure of it, but those reassurances did nothing for her concern. Whatever that Jet was doing, it was bad for the Vein.
Her worries were confirmed as the craft meandered to a spot directly above the position of the hidden camera at the edge of the landing pad.
"That is an interesting development," Makalai observed. He had an oddly neutral way of interpreting difficult events.
Her breath caught in her throat as the craft began its descent. Her thoughts escaped under her breath. "How do they know?"
"Shall I deploy a squad?" he queried, his hand hovering at the ready over a projection.
"Negative. We do nothing until the last possible moment."
The craft touched down. The two of them watched in tense silence. There was movement in the cockpit. She stabbed a finger toward the screen. "There. See if we can get their identities."
The camera zoomed in on the tinted windows. When Makalai applied filters to get a better view of the soldiers, Kyreeda's jaw dropped. "Lower the pad and seal it. Now!"
He jumped at her outburst, then manipulated a small screen at his side. "Lowering pad eighty-nine."
Her fingernails dug into her palms as she stared at the unfolding scene. The soldiers were startled by the unexpected movement. The hatch irised inward, with the craft a little off-center. The engines lit and it rose. The edge of the closing hatch clipped the Jet's wing, causing it to tilt and gyrate in its ascent.
She slapped her thigh as it stabilized and flew away. "Fuck!"
"A very interesting development, indeed!" Makalai looked at her with surprised eyes. "What happened to not taking action?"
"Are you blind?" she stammered, shoving a hand at the fading red dot of Aetheric exhaust. "That was Domrik! That was an opportunity to capture our ultimate research asset."
"Ah," he gulped. "So, what now?"
The realization slapped her in the face. The words felt unreal as they left her mouth. "They'll know. They'll come back, and they'll find us. We have to leave. The limb must be severed, lest the rest of the body be discovered."
He shrugged. "It's more like a finger."
"Initiate the Void Protocol," she commanded, still uncertain she was giving those orders. The Void Protocol had never been issued in non-simulated circumstances in the known history of the Vein. "Set detonation for two hours."
He sat in his swivel chair, stunned, and a little sad. "You're certain?"
She rose her chin at him. "Do not question my judgement."
He gulped again, opening another projection. "The illustrious Void Protocol required both of our full identification verifications."
They went through the procedure of confirming fingerprints, irises, and DNA confirmations. When it completed, all ceiling lights blared red, and a mechanical voice began announcing the Void Protocol, as well as the time remaining until detonation.
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"Use the MonoNet," she told him. The system of monorails connected each underground Vein facility to all neighboring facilities. "I will follow soon, after I ensure our research assets are on their way to a safe transit."
***
Jase bumped the back of his head against the metal in a steady rhythm, feeling the subtle shockwaves vibrate his forehead and cheeks. He was beginning to understand why the professor had resorted to singing so often. Being a prisoner was almost like a retreat, but with none of the therapeutic benefits. Having one's system chemically knocked out once a day couldn't be good for long-term health, but he couldn't do much about it except meditate in between the enforced psychedelic episodes. The drug made it difficult for him to stay lucid, but he eventually realized his captors wanted him to react a certain way to the illusions they projected for him. So he decided to react to everything. Blinking at the imaginary projectiles flung at his face, flinching when a simulated fist shot toward his gut, those types of reactions. It was far easier than not reacting at all.
He was starting to regret showing any evidence that he could pierce illusions. He might have saved his own life, but how many future lives would be lost because of it?
A blaring alarm jolted him from the metal bench, the mental fog clearing in an instant as adrenaline coursed through his body. A computerized voice echoed from somewhere outside his cell. "Warning: Void Protocol Initiated. Evacuate all personnel immediately. Detonation in two hours."
Detonation? His eyes widened with realization. Suddenly the room seemed much more real to him, the worn textures jumping out in high definition. This could very well be the last experience he had as Jase. He wasn't absolutely certain of an afterlife, though such concepts seemed dead to him in this moment. There was only the thought of ending. Once again, he was shaken to his core. An observant part of his mind realized he still had attachment to his physical body.
A familiar hiss of gas erupted from the corners of the room. He leapt back to the bench just as his vision began to tunnel. Panic pulled at his attention, but it was quickly subdued by the soft blanket of sleep.
***
The first thing Brandon noticed was the unusual sense of heaviness in his limbs. He pushed it away as it grew more intense. He craved the emptiness of sleep again. He didn't want to be forced back into this painful world.
He tasted an intense tang of metal. Something cold and hard pushed up against his face. Remnants of an ephemeral dream fell away from his awareness as noises sharpened into being around him. A deafening alarm. Distant metallic footsteps. Nervous whispering.
Clicking.
Fear threw off the heaviness. His eyes flicked open. The metal surface harbored boots and the bottom of a long rolling table. He jerked away from the ground, sputtering from the obscene taste his tongue had picked up from the floor. He found that moving one arm pulled the other along with it. His wrists were cuffed. He sat up clumsily, his head still swimming with sleep. He closed his eyes to stop the dizziness. His cheekbone and eyebrow throbbed. He reached up. The skin stung where he touched, and his fingers got wet.
"Professor?"
The voice sounded familiar. A face appeared with the loosely-associated memory, but the name escaped him.
Someone shook his shoulder. "Professor, get up! We have to go."
He begrudgingly peered through narrowed eyes at the voice to his right. "Jase?"
The young man yanked on his elbow, pulling him into a half-squat. "Come on, we don't have much time."
A computerized voice boomed from the ceiling. "Warning: Void Protocol Initiated. Evacuate all personnel immediately. Detonation in forty-five minutes."
"What's happening?" Brandon mumbled, leaning on Jase's shoulder as he got a better look at his surroundings. Red light spilled down from the ceiling. There was something off about the hallway, as if everything was somehow flat. The rolling table carried a large transparent water tank with a creature inside. The tank was surrounded by soldiers carrying Aetheric rifles, all facing away from it as though protecting it. They looked tense. A few of them had a strange, spiral-shaped gash on their face. A lot like the spirals engraved in the flesh of the creature itself. Brandon nodded to himself. "Well, this dream's off to a weird start."
"No, no, no, Professor. This is real," Jase insisted, pulling Brandon by the cuffs down the hallway. A mass of people passed briefly through the intersection at the far end. Everyone was in a rush. "This is our chance to escape. Lumen's helping us."
The soldiers pulled the tank along beside him as he spoke. Brandon got a better look at the creature. It was the biggest fish he'd ever seen. "What the hell is that thing?"
The creature's eye tracked toward him. It emitted a clicking noise. Then a voice spoke out of nowhere. "Angry."
"That's Lumen, he's a Waterling," Jase said, turning toward the tank. "Hey, do any of these guys have Aetherite on them? We gotta get these cuffs off."
The soldier nearest them rapidly dug in his pocket and shakily held out a small crystal to Jase, not once making eye contact. His terrified gaze was set on something far away, out of sight. His lips formed silent words. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Jase took the crystal and ignited a short blade from its tip. "Hold out your hands."
Brandon did as instructed, and Jase cut through his cuffs. The latches still sat around his wrists, but now his arms were free. Jase manipulated the shape of the blade to cut through his own cuffs. "Let's go."
They moved along the passageway. Water sloshed in the tank as it accelerated. Lumen floated to the water's surface and took a gasp, spraying droplets everywhere. Brandon watched it happen, perplexed and disgusted.
Jase led the way to the end of the passage, staying a few meters ahead of the group. He peered around one of the corners, then whirled around to Lumen. "Which way?"
"Left," the disembodied voice said, sending chills through Brandon's spine.
He caught up to Jase. "Hold on, if this is an escape, why aren't people trying to capture us? Why are those guys helping us?"
"Lumen is keeping us cloaked, and everyone else is trying to save their own lives. These guys are under some kind of control. I don't know how it happened. I woke up only a minute before you."
"How do you know we're cloaked?"
"We don't have shadows."
He looked down. No wonder everything seemed flat.
They waited for a few more groups of panicked workers to pass, then the controlled soldiers towed the large tank around the corner. This hallway was shorter, terminating in the wider main hallway. Jase paced next to the tank. "This is a huge risk, Lumen. Clearly, they meant to transport us to a different facility. Why didn't you wait until we were on a ship before you took control?"
"I can save myself… not you if on different ship," Lumen said. Brandon thought it odd the creature used a Sylgan accent for the voice.
"How thoughtful of you." Jase's response was half-sincere, half-suspicious. He went ahead to the end of the hallway again to check if the coast was clear. Brandon stopped behind him. The faint sounds of rifle blasts echoes through the facility. Jase held up a hand, signaling Lumen to stop. "Hallway's open, but I don't think it's safe. That sounds like a battle."
Lumen kept his tank moving. "No other option. No time."
Jase growled, reluctantly following by his side, holding up the fist with Aetherite in anticipation of an attack. "Your tank is fragile. One hit, and you're dead."
"I'm no weakling," Lumen retorted, releasing a volley of clicks. A red screen flashed around the tank for a fraction of a second. "Fast reactions."
"It can use Aether?" Brandon asked, astonished.
"He can use Aether," Jase warned, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "And he's damn good at it."
Lumen clicked again. "Yes."
Brandon shook his head, combing a hand through his messy hair. "And he understands Ered."
"No."
"And he's a wise ass."
"Yes."
For the next minute, only the sound of the table's wheels on the floor prevailed, before another question burst out of Brandon's mouth. "But he doesn't have Aetherite?"
"He eats it," came Jase's blunt reply.
"What?"
"He stores it somewhere in his mouth. Professor, focus!"
Brandon waved his hand. "It's just Brandon now, man."
Jase shrugged. "If you say so."
"How far do we have?"
"Just a few doors down, I think."
At that moment, a soldier burst out of one of the corridors and stopped in the larger hallway, facing them.
"Oh shit," Jase muttered, putting a hand on the tank to slow it down.
Brandon cowered behind him. "What is it? Who is that?"
The soldier raised an arm, presumably aiming an arm-mounter blaster at them. A sharp feminine voice boomed from its external speakers. "I know you're there. Stop where you are, and you won't be harmed."
"Impossible," Lumen said, inserting disgust into the voice.
"Actually, she can pierce illusions," Jase confirmed. "Kinda."
Lumen replied with a series of clicks. All the front soldiers suddenly let go of the tank and leveled their weapons at her. The first volley of bolts caught her off-guard. She twisted from the first few impacts, while her reactive shielding saved her from the rest. When the second volley came, she was already retreating. Lumen kept up the assault until she had reached the very end of the hallway, where a few of the bolts that had missed their marks shattered the glass of the MonoNet terminal.
It was also at that moment they reached the nearest entry hallway to the hangar. As the controlled team of soldiers swung the tank into the hallway, Brandon worked up the nerve to unclamp his hands from his ears. His heart thrashed in his chest. A pressure was growing in the middle of his forehead, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was seconds away from a quick, painful death. Chaos existed on the other side of the unassuming door at the end of the hallway.
And when one of the soldiers triggered the door to slide open, Brandon lost all capacity for coherent thought.