Robert Pendleton shivered in the armchair.
Everything was fucked up. Everything was wrong.
Everything hurt.
This wasn’t his La-Z Boy, and the can he was sipping on tasted too sweet. The hint of Budweiser mixed in the apple juice was just enough to trigger bad memories but not enough to blot them out. He needed a drink—a real drink, not the watered-down, heavily medicated drinks coming out of his vending machine.
But every time he stumbled to the door, someone in a lab coat met him there and helped him back to his seat, and he didn’t have the strength to resist. He didn’t even know if he wanted to fight back.
He’d used to be someone. No one used to treat him like an invalid old man. Fuck. He was only forty; this was some bullshit.
His stomach rolled, and he pushed himself up and staggered to the bathroom. Liquid erupted from his mouth—he’d already puked up everything he’d eaten in the last day, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of food—and he wiped his beard on the dark gray hand towel.
God dammit.
His eyes met his eyes in the mirror, ignoring the concerned-looking lady doctor hovering behind him. He’d used to fucking be someone. His kids had used to think he was someone. But ever since Claire had dragged them her, he wasn’t someone anymore.
He was nothing.
And he hated it. He hated her for bringing him here.
Robert spat into the sink, growling as the doctor put a hand on his shoulder. He could have broken the woman in half, but he felt so weak and the world wouldn’t stop spinning, so instead, he let her lead him back to the chair, cover him in a blanket, and hand him another can of 50/50 apple juice and Bud.
The can tasted too sweet, but he drained it anyway.
It blunted the pain.
----------------------------------------
Li Mei raged.
To her, it felt like a hurricane, a tsunami crashing ashore. Any other host would have broken and fed her by now.
Alice barely felt it. She wasn’t a host; she was a partner, unwilling though she was. Whether Li Mei starved or feasted only mattered in terms of how difficult it was to maintain her facade, and ever since last night, the woman’s voice had faded to almost nothing. Her Infohazard Resistance had broken thirty early this morning, and she’d finally been able to sleep—really sleep, not the half-resting, half-fighting state she’d been in since her sister had come home. It felt like heaven, not a hurricane.
She was so relaxed it took her almost ten minutes to realize she was awake. The clock by her bed read 7:05 AM: too early, too dark out, and too much like the countless times Claire had woken her up. She glared at it, catching a flash of her black, red-pitted eyes in the glass screen.
Reality set in. James was watching, her sister’s bogeymen were outside the door, and she had a parasite living in her brain. She headed to the little table SHOCKS had given her, with the mirror and her makeup kit. She armed and armored herself like she had for years before school: foundation, blush, eyeliner, and a nice, enhancing lipstick that wasn’t too red but wasn’t natural either.
As Alice applied mascara, her hand shook slightly. Li Mei threw herself against the prison wall Alice had built in her mind, desperately trying to find a crack. She howled and screamed, threatened Alice’s fondest memories, roared doom on her new warden—anything she could think of to break free. She had to break free.
She couldn’t. The prison walls were too high, too thick. Alice’s mind had always been full of walls. Every persona needed to be completely separate from the others—it was the only way to keep them all straight in her mind. Once she realized that Li Mei was just another mask, even if she was one Alice could never control, it was simple to build the barriers around her and simply…not ever slip into that persona.
Two nights ago was the last time Li Mei had really been a threat.
Alice smiled. She looked beautiful.
Li Mei raged.
----------------------------------------
Lieutenant Olivia Rodriguez was in over her head, and she knew it.
She’d been in the shit since her mutiny against Director Smith. His corpse was in cold storage now, but if she hadn’t pulled a gun on him, he wouldn’t be dead right now. It had gotten worse when Paul told her about the merge generator and said he could build it. And now her squad was out there, fighting Object - 032-VVI-9/URM without her.
Olivia rested a hand on Paul’s shoulder as they watched the battle on his computer screen.
Paul was another sign that she was in over her head. He was in over his—on every front. No one on SHOCKS’s staff had experience with detoxing a decade-long alcoholic, so they were going by the advice of an expert they’d found. He wasn’t with them anymore. Li Mei had never possessed someone for this long, and Alice had stopped trying to break free. She just went through the motions during her tests and experiments. And then there was the JAMES Unit’s betrayal.
Not to mention Merge Prime itself.
She could try to justify their secret, no-frills thing as stress relief—they both needed that—or as a friends-with-benefits situation. It was pretty much just that—at least on the surface. Half the staff probably knew, and no one cared. Everyone here was too busy to care about their bosses screwing each other in the few minutes they had off. But the reality was that it’d been a long time coming, and if the SHOCKS Ethics Division caught wind of it, they’d both be screwed.
And not in a good way.
She snorted. Paul glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he turned back to the screen. “What about this is funny?”
Right now, L4-3 was running and gunning across the playground as Object - 032-VVI-9/URM melted swing sets and set a slide ablaze. Lambda-Five was scattered and trying to stabilize the injured lieutenant, and Lambda-Four was out of position and moving civilians to their two trucks. There wasn’t anything funny about what was on the screen.
“Nothing. The usual thing,” she said. The usual thing was Paul’s horrified face when they’d woken up in the same bed for the first time a few nights ago. It got her every time.
Paul nodded, the ghost of a smile passing his face even though he couldn’t stop sweating nervously. Olivia sympathized even as she pulled herself together. SHOCKS Victoria/Vancouver Island couldn’t afford to lose either of its Recovery and Stabilization Teams, and both were in danger as long as Object - 032-VVI-9/URM was uncontained. “This kind of mission’s a waste of our resources. Almost everything we do for that girl is a waste of our resources. We should be focusing on the real threat.”
“I know.” She leaned down and pecked Paul’s cheek. It was a quick motion, hardly romantic, but neither of them had time for too much of that shit anyway. “And you know we can’t tighten our grip too much, or she’ll stop cooperating. I’m going to check on Strauss and see if we have any Agents we can deploy as backup.”
“Got it. I’m assuming control of the mission. Good luck, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, Director. You too.”
As she marched out of the office she shared with Paul, Olivia bit back another storm of laughter. The only thing she could think to say was how they’d both put the fate of the world into the hands of a fifteen-year-old girl—and how all she could really think about was the hope that the JAMES Unit wouldn’t care about ethics violations.
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If it did…they’d both be screwed—
She burst out laughing.
—and not in a good way.
----------------------------------------
James had no time for ethics violations.
He was running Claire’s augs autonomously, giving her flashes of infrared to help aim her gravity shells and reality skippers so she wouldn’t have to deal with anything except staying alive. The shots weren’t causing much damage, but they were annoying the hell out of the burning man. She’d pulled its attention off of RST Lambda-Five, and right now, she was fleeing across the playground, toward the Wal-Mart that sat caddy-corner to Landsdowne Middle.
He had a million other things he was working on, but, as always, Claire’s safety came first.
Figuring out how to help her beat Object - 032-VVI-9/URM came second.
And that mess in Los Angeles came third—a very distant third.
The aug flickered red-orange for a second. Claire pulled the trigger. A burst of black and blue filled James’s vision, and he shut off the infrared as she ducked behind a half-melted plastic rock. The bullet hit. It tore the burning man off its feet. Claire kept running; the burning man barely missed a second before it was up and moving again. Bark chips steamed, then burst into flames.
[Claire, left!] he said.
She ducked left under a slide that dripped molten plastic onto her hoodie.
The burning man hit it a second later. It exploded, showering the whole playground with burning plastic shards.
[I’m Analyzing. Prepare for simulations.]
----------------------------------------
Landsdowne Middle School, Victoria, British Columbia - June 9, 2043, 7:16 AM
- - - - -
Everything smells like a lawnmower that’s been overfilled with oil.
I should be concerned about Lambda-Five or the teachers and their families—especially the teachers and their families. They’re the whole reason I forced SHOCKS out here. But as I pull myself up the red-hot chain-link fence and drop onto Hillside Avenue’s asphalt, all I can focus on is the burning man.
It’s right behind me. The fence bursts into flame, ringing the playground in fire. L5 and the teachers better not try to get out this way, I think to myself.
There’s no time for math, equations, or anything remotely like planning. The only thing I can focus on is the burning man. It’s definitely mid-Xuduo-Danger, and I don’t have a counter for it right now. All I can do is keep fighting until Landsdowne’s evacuated, then try to disengage.
I’m halfway across Hillside Avenue, elm trees bursting into flame around me and dew turning to steam in the median, when I finish reloading—this time, with reality skippers. I turn to start shooting, but the burning man’s too close. “Do it now!” I shout.
[Overlaying Simulation,] James responds.
The orange-dot burning man’s too close. It reaches out for you, and your augs start to overheat. You Slither away/fire your shells/dodge.
The simulation’s gotten worse. Better, actually, but so much worse. It looks exactly like the burning man, and I stare for a half-second, my mind racing. I go with Slither.
It works. The burning bear hug closes on nothing. A second later, the real burning man tries to grab me, but I’m not where I was anymore. I fire two shots into the metal man, then keep running.
Long-term, this isn’t going to work.
But shorter-term, it’s fine. I can keep this up indefinitely if I can avoid taking any hits. I climb up a red sports car, my feet sinking into its convertible top. As the burning man charges me, I leap off of it into the Wal-Mart parking lot. It blows up a second later.
The burning man howls.
[Working on possible solutions,] James says.
Doctor Twitchy says, “Claire, we’re working on the evacuation. Lambda-Five is out of the fight. They’re picking up a few people and leaving. Keep that thing off of Lambda-Four and the civilians.” He sounds stressed, but so is everyone else. So am I.
“Got it,” I gasp through gritted teeth. Endurance or not, sprinting for this long is hard work. My feet beat the pavement, boots starting to stick to the melting asphalt.
The first car explodes a moment later. It’s like a pressure behind me, shoving me forward. I Smoke Form to avoid hitting the tar and gravel, but the burning man’s already ignited another fuel tank, and the heat ripples over me. Shrapnel gouges into my shoulder and across my back. The wet, sticky blood soaks into my hoodie.
I ignore it.
Instead, I switch to my fire rounds and put seven shots into the cars in front of me, one after another. Three of them explode. Even with all three, the pressure’s nothing like the two behind me. These burst into flames, smoldering instead of melting as the gas burns off quickly.
[Skill Learned: Revolver Mastery 16]
That’s okay. I don’t care about the explosions. I’m just trying to get rid of the gas. The burning man charges me, and I dash through the row of burning cars. They twist and melt around me, but I’m already through. I hit the sliding glass door and crash through it.
Wal-Mart’s shockingly cool. Or the rest of the world is on fire. Maybe both.
Either way, I’m happy for my hoodie, even if it’s bloody and won’t stop sticking to my back. I don’t have a ton of time to relax, but I suck in a breath, then another. “James, how’s that solution?”
[Working on it. I’m currently becoming an expert on prescribed burns and wildland fire management.]
“What?! Are you joking?”
[No.]
Before James can say anything else, the door explodes inward as the burning man crashes through it.
[Keep buying time,] James says.
I haven’t bought enough time to respond. The thing’s on me like a dog chasing a rabbit, and I sprint for the breakfast foods aisle. I’ve never been in this store, but it’s the closest one to me. I glance up at the ceiling. “Fuck!”
I’m in a metal building with metal posts, metal shelves, and a ceiling held up by a metal grid. And the monster that’s after me reacts with metal. I need to leave. Even as the sugary cereals Alice never let me have as a kid burst into flame, mixing with the molten-metal smell to fill the air with a sickeningly sour-sweet smell, I stop trying to stall in here and start trying to maneuver. I have to get out of here.
I Slither through the shelf. The next aisle over is coffee; I can hear the beans cracking and popping like popcorn. It’d be a pleasant smell if it wasn’t mixed with so many other stenches. The burning man steps through the melting tin shelf. It collapses around the metal figure like water. I switch to the gravity shells. Bullet Time. One shot on the anomaly, one in front of it, and one on the ground inches from me. The three tiny singularities rip linoleum tiles apart and pull blazing cardboard off the shelves. They look like purplish black holes consuming orange, burning stars.
The burning man charges, staggering back and forth as I Smoke Form through it. When I land on the tacky plastic floor behind it, it takes it a second to turn.
Then it explodes.
Suddenly, it’s not man-shaped anymore. It’s not anything-shaped anymore. It’s everywhere, climbing the beams all around me as they melt and burst into flame. The silvery-gray metal fills the rafters; the entire roof is burning. My face feels like it’s blistering. So do my hands.
[Skill Learned: Physical Anomaly Resistance 10]
There’s no time to head for the doors. I run straight for the wall. As the ceiling rains fire around me, I slide under a falling metal matrix of triangles. It hits the ground and half-collapses, half-shatters.
[Overlaying Simulation,] James says.
The door’s on fire. So is the entire outside wall, where Wal-Mart subcontracts space out with smaller stores. The bathroom’s sprinklers are still running—for now. You head for the bathroom/crash through the door again/stand your ground.
I head into the bathroom. It’s the safest choice. But even as I do, the burning man drips from the ceiling, reforming in front of me. Its metal hands whirl toward my head, and I—
[Resetting Simulation. Try something else!]
I try something else, but it’s not the door. Instead, I backpedal into one of the burning shops. I can almost feel my hair burning. Almost. The burning man forms in front of me just like before. But this time, I use Slither and Smoke Form to whisk myself away. The blazing wall hurts as I pass through it and form on the sidewalk outside.
[Stability 3/10]
But I’m outside.
[Okay, plan. Shoot as many cars as you can.]
“Really? I was doing that before,” I say.
[Yeah. We’re going to try to create a firebreak. The parking lot’s half-empty already. If you can burn off the fuel, the burning man should take care of the metal,] James says. [I think. We’ll set up a scorched area and—]
He doesn’t get to finish.
The hulking, towering burning man bursts out of the Wal-Mart’s roof. It towers over the parking lot, and every car in the first five rows explodes. Car windows shatter all around me, and alarms fill the air from the entire parking lot. I’m not fast enough; I’m still staring at the burning man’s silver-gray, pillar-shaped body when the shockwave hits.
It rips me across the asphalt, and my ear pops from the pressure—not both ears, just the un-augmented one. But I find my feet and recover, crouching on the blacktop and staring down the burning man.
The monster’s massive. It’s almost as tall as the Fungal Lords but thinner; it looks like a reverse tornado made of scratched, scuffed-up steel and flames, both of which it’s sucking up into it from the wreckage of the Wal-Mart. I take a step back, then swallow. The Revolver’s still in my hand. It’s still full of gravity shells. I start switching them out for reality skippers as the burning metal cyclone moves toward me. More fuel tanks explode, knocking me to a knee and buffeting me to the side.
I finish reloading and fire three shots at the burning man. Bullet Time. Three more shots. Their portals open up all around it, peppering it with shells that do nothing—less than nothing. It keeps coming, picking up speed—but also shrinking down.
I jam my finger into the gun barrel, take careful aim, and pull the trigger.
A second passes. Two. Three. The burning man closes in. My skin crisps, and I close my eyes and look away, but I don’t run.
I vanish instead.
[Stability: 2/10]
The burning man howls in rage. I don’t care; I’m standing on the Landsdowne Middle School playground, right next to the door Lambda Five ambushed the burning man outside of. My face hurts, but I glare at the monster and switch out the cylinder again, back to the gravity shells. Then I Soundbreak.
The silent point punches into the steel monster’s scream, tunneling deep into it and ripping a deep gouge into its body. Even as it tears with a deafening screech, the top half reshapes itself, pulling its mass into the familiar burning man shape. It’s hardly hurt; even as the towering mass of metal below it solidifies and collapses, its core body rushes me.
The last few unexploded cars detonate as it crosses the parking lot. It closes in again. It’s twenty feet away and closing fast.
Smoke Form. Slither.
[Stability: 1/10]