The toughest part about Alice’s Mom mask isn’t that it’s a lie.
It’s that she’s only three years older than me. With that kind of age gap, you can’t use the usual ‘I’m sick’ tricks to get out of going to school when you don’t want to—say, when Candice wants to take your last cigarette or a rumor’s going around that you’re crazy. Sticking the thermometer next to a light or getting up to mix fake throw-up for the toilet? That doesn’t work when your ‘mom’ sleeps on the top bunk.
It works both ways, though, because when I was sick, she knew it. And if she didn’t, she’d know in a couple of days, when she came down with a runny nose and scratchy throat.
That’d show her.
----------------------------------------
SHOCKS Headquarters, Victoria, British Columbia - June 8, 2043, 7:15 AM
- - - - -
In theory, I have one more day off.
In theory.
In practice, there’s a message on the screen when I wake up. That’s annoying; it should have beeped. And it shouldn’t be there at all. I’m still recovering, and I’m tired.
James and I had a talk about security and my sister. I tried not to be too angry with him. Really, I did. But the truth is that she proved I can’t trust her, and he proved he’s too…something. Can an all-seeing, all-knowing pseudo-AI be too trusting? Because that’s what it looks like. He wasn’t watching her constantly. They’d worked out some sort of deal to give her privacy. I mean, I get it. But also, she’s got Li Mei, so…yeah…I don’t get it.
Then she got past him, and neither of us are sure how. It’s hard to believe, but it happened last night, and Alice could have done something stupid if I hadn’t gotten ahead of her.
The other question is how James couldn’t find her instantly. He’s pretty sure it has to do with Li Mei’s infovampiric anomaly. [I think she ate herself out of the cameras as she passed them. That’s new.]
If true, my sister’s a problem. I’m not sure how to solve this one, either. But for now, I table it. She’s back in her room, sleeping off another late night, and then the doctors will take her for more testing later today. As far as James or I can tell, they’re thrilled to have a willing subject for anomaly de-bonding procedures.
That gives me the shivers just thinking about it.
I head for the garage. Doctor Twitchy has something new there, and the message said it’s a major problem.
When I arrive, Doctor Twitchy’s not there. Lieutenant Rodriguez is, along with the rest of Recovery and Stabilization Team Lambda-Four. They’ve got one of those armored trucks idling nearby, and they’re all dressed for combat and stealth. Even Strauss has left his toolbag behind in favor of more ammo for his rifle.
“Claire,” Lieutenant Rodriguez says, and I nod in response. One of my conditions after the second Mergewalk was that they ditch the letter/number code for me. It’s nice to hear my name. “We’ve got a problem out near Sooke.”
Sooke’s pretty close to Albert Head, where I went to school. It’s not anything compared to Victoria, but I knew a couple of kids from there. Samantha’s the only one I remember. She was black and tall, and she played keeper on the soccer team. She wasn’t exactly friends with Candice and Alice, but that didn’t mean she was one of my friends, either. We ignored each other, me under the bleachers, her standing at the goal.
Anyway. Sooke. It’s a little tourist and fishing town. Beachfront property, boats and harbors…all that stuff. And it’s also where an anomalous disease outbreak started ten or so days back.
“Last night, we had our first breach on the quarantine around the Sooke Exclusion Zone. Until now, we’ve had infrequent contact with the infected, and our barrier and a few agents have been enough to keep the quarantine intact. This was an organized assault, and Lambda-Five was called in to help manage it and to prevent it from reaching Albert Head,” Lieutenant Rodriguez reads from her aug.
“Lambda Five pushed the quarantine zone back to its old boundaries, but when they attempted to enter the infected zone, they reported signs of a disease cult and pulled back.”
“Shit,” Strauss says.
“We know you’re technically off duty, but we need your help with this,” Rodriguez continues. “We’re going in fully suited up, and it’s hard to talk people down when you’re a yellow blob without a face carrying a gun. But you don’t have that problem. You could handle the fungal spores just fine. That means you can be our face, show we’re not hostile, and help us get to the bottom of this. The mission is information gathering and, possibly, infiltrating the cult.”
I think about it. Nothing about this sounds good. The best way to handle it would be to have Doctor Twitchy open up a merge portal and let me clear it out. But when I suggest that, Rodriguez shakes her head. “Not this time. We believe this was an instantaneous merge. It dumped its anomalies into R-0 and disconnected. We’ve got to clean it up, though.”
“Alright. But tomorrow, I’m having lunch with my sister. James, put that on everyone’s schedule.” I’m not happy about this. Alice needs the routine, and SHOCKS keeps getting in the way. “And contact Doctor Twitchy. I want to meet with him about her later today.”
[Got it.] Sometimes, James is the best personal assistant.
“Great. Strauss will be your bodyguard and handler,” Rodriguez says. “We’re leaving in ten. Suit up.”
----------------------------------------
The armored truck roars down Highway Fourteen toward Sooke, and I stare at the four troopers in their hazmat gear. Sure enough, they barely look human, and even though Strauss is sitting across from me, I can’t see his face through the hood-and-helmet combination. He looks a lot bigger than he did back at Aberdeen Hospital.
According to James, Aberdeen’s fine for now, but I’m not sure I can believe him. The fire-metal monster’s out there somewhere, and that’s what we should be dealing with. Instead, we’re heading into Sooke.
It’s hard to read the other troopers, but no one looks happy to be here. “James, what’s a disease cult?” I ask.
[Standard disease cults pop up in places where an anomalous illness isn’t entirely detrimental. In this case, we’re looking at something that initially appears to follow a typical flu-into-bronchitis pattern. Once established in the lungs, it moves into the bloodstream, causing infections across the patient’s muscular system and penetrating the blood/brain barrier. We’re not sure what it’s doing once it’s there, but it’s definitely influencing the victims’ thinking toward spreading the disease.]
“So, like the memes?”
[No. That was a full mental override. It took a few rounds of amnestics to clear it out of Lieutenant Rodriguez’s system. This is usually more low-key. Expect people to be mostly normal. Mostly. Enhanced strength, speed, and so on. Hacking wet coughs and sneezes. Nothing too wild, at least so far. Strauss has training on what crosses the line with the Sooke strain, and he’ll be there to keep you safe.]
I don’t think I’ll need Strauss to keep me safe, but it’s good to have backup. I nod. “Thanks.”
[I’m dedicating a few extra processing loops to you for the mission. If something goes wrong, I’ll know before anyone else,] James says.
“Thanks,” I say again. Then I turn to Strauss. “What’s the rest of Lambda-Four going to be doing?”
“They’re running infiltration and information-gathering, just like us. But unlike us, they’re going to be a lot less visible. Between us talking to people and them hunting for the cult more clandestinely, we should be able to get this figured out today,” Strauss says. His voice sounds muffled and staticky. He shivers. “Medical shit again.”
“Yeah, I’m not thrilled about it either.” That’s the truth.
A few minutes later, the truck stops, the ramp drops, and Rodriguez and the other two troopers—fuck, I still don’t know who they are—disappear toward a gate. A few other troopers in similar suits stand guard next to a repaired section of the plastic barrier blocking the town off, but Strauss doesn’t lead me over there. Instead, we head straight to a plastic tunnel, where a woman—I think—punches a code into a door. It slides open.
“L4-3,” someone says. I turn, eyes narrowing, but the big man in the bio-suit continues. “Ramirez says you’re our best shot at getting this under control. I hope so. My team’s needed elsewhere.”
I ignore him. He’s got to be in charge of Lambda-Five. But Strauss sticks out his hand, and they shake.
The Lambda-Five lieutenant continues. “Your job’s pretty simple. You and Strauss are going to be as obvious as possible. No stealth mission or anything like that. Talk to people, knock on doors, do whatever you need to do. The rest of Lambda-Four and Lambda-Five will move to the Prestige Building. We think that’s where the cult’s centered. Meet us there when you can, but don’t rush.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Got it,” Strauss says. I nod, and the lieutenant waves us down the plastic tunnel.
We emerge into what looks like a totally normal Vancouver Island town. It reminds me a lot of Ucluelet. Maybe a little bigger, but the towers and multi-story apartment complexes that dot Victoria are nowhere to be found here. Instead, there are a few stoplights, a bunch of small houses, and what looks like endless, nearly perfect beachfront.
And trees. So many trees. Sometimes, I forget how many of them there are once you leave the city. They even cover the spit sticking out across the harbor’s mouth in the distance.
Strauss points at a single-story apartment building on the edge of town. “Check in there,” he says.
I nod and knock on the run-down door, then open it.
It’s an office space. That’s my first impression, at least. Then I see the dozen mailboxes, and the washing machines off to the side, and I reevaluate. We’ve got a similar space in the basic living building. I ring the bell on the counter, the familiar smell of cigarette ashes tickling my nose. I wish I still had mine.
Nothing happens, so I give it another ring. When nothing happens again, I shrug. “Maybe it’s the quarantine?”
“Maybe,” Strauss says, moving his shoulders a little. “Let’s give it a minute. L-4, L-5, interview team is stopped at the Beachfront Apartments complex. We’ll give it five, then move on.”
“Copy,” Rodriguez’s voice comes in through my aug.
The seconds tick by, and after a minute, an older woman—older than Dad, at least—comes in through the back door. She’s tucking something into her purse, and I catch the familiar logo. It’s a pack of cigarettes.
“Hi,” I say, following the script James pulled up for me. It’s a bad script, but with the gear I’m wearing, it’s plausible, especially if we talk to sick people who aren’t at their peak mentally. Besides, it’s not like I have some magical authority to tell the people of Sooke what to do, so lying is our best bet.
“I’m with the Public Health Agency. We’re investigating reports that the influenza outbreak in Sooke may be mutating. If it’s not too much trouble, we’d like to interview you about the disease. Everything we hear will remain anonymous. We don’t even need your name.”
“What are you, like thirteen?” the woman asks. She sits behind the desk in the beat-up office chair, and I try not to wince. This was never going to work.
“Ma’am,” Strauss says, shifting slightly so she can see his handgun, “my partner’s fully registered as a nurse with the Public Health Agency. It’s in your best interests to cooperate.”
I guess we’re running good cop/bad cop? I nod.
“And why aren’t you suited up?”
“I had this last week,” I lie. In truth, my Toxin Resistance feels like it’s working overtime. “According to our studies, I should be immune.”
“No,” the woman says, sighing and reaching for another cigarette. “This all feels like bullshit to me.”
I start to argue, but Strauss interrupts from inside his suit. “Alright, Ma’am. We’ll be back if our supervisor says we need your input. Have a good day.”
He heads for the door, and I follow him. The second it closes behind us, I raise an eyebrow. “Why’d we bail out?”
“Not yet,” Strauss says, flicking his head back over his shoulder.
[That plan won’t work,] James replies as well. [You’re too young-looking, even in full gear. It immediately set off her suspicions, and we were playing catch-up the whole time. We’ll need to adjust for next time. Working on a new script.
----------------------------------------
“She tripped all my suit’s scanners. Part of the cult,” Strauss says a minute or two later. We’ve been walking down Highway 14 while he chats with the rest of Lambda-Four and I get tactical updates from James. “We’ve also got reports that the woman made several phone calls right after we left. According to Command, we need to assume—“
“That they know we’re not Public Health,” I finish. In retrospect, it’s pretty obvious; that ploy was never going to work. It was too much of a stretch. Maybe if I’d been Alice…no. If I’d been Alice, one of her masks would have sold it for sure. But not me. “James has me patched into Command.”
“Great. Let’s move,” Strauss says. He doesn’t seem annoyed that the plan failed. “That woman had us made the second she stepped back into the office, not when you started talking. I’m guessing she’s in the middle stages of infection. Ideally, we’d amnestitize the whole area, carpet-bomb style, then force antibiotics into everyone until we got control, but Command’s worried about a breach if we try that.”
We pass a military surplus store as we head for the Prestige Building. That’s where we’re supposed to meet up with the rest of Lambda-Four and Lambda-Five—assuming they’re stealthy enough to get there.
But we haven’t gone a hundred yards before we meet our first—well, second—cultist.
This one’s face looks like he’s homeless. That in itself is weird; no one in Victoria’s homeless unless they choose to be. But his clothes don’t match the role, other than that they’re filthy. He’s wearing a thick winter coat—the kind with puffed-up pockets filled with feathers that Dad couldn’t ever afford for us—and a beanie. That’s weird, too. It’s early June, and yeah, it’s early, but my hoodie’s already pushing too warm.
Strauss takes a step toward him, holding up a hand. “Sir, Public Health. Could we have a word?”
A second later, the man rushes Strauss, who calmly draws his handgun and fires a shot. It catches the guy in the chest, and he goes down. “Cover me,” Strauss says and slides next to the downed man.
I’ve got enough Urban Combat levels to know what Strauss wants. As he checks the man and recovers his stun shot, my head and Revolver rotate between all the buildings around us. This equation’s a mess, and the messages coming in from Lambda-Four and Lambda-Five aren’t any better.
One variable is the plague cult itself. Where are they? How many of them are there? What’s their actual plan? And, of course, what’s the plague, really? I don’t know any answers to that one. Then there’s SHOCKS. How trigger-happy are they? Strauss didn’t hesitate at all. He put that stun shot into his attacker with zero warning. And what will Doctor Twitchy be willing to do to contain this anomaly?
I don’t know the answers to those questions either, and that scares me.
“L4, Command. L5-3 and L5-4 have discovered new intel,” the patched-in Command feed says in my ear.
“Go ahead,” Lieutenant Rodriguez says.
“There’s a possibility of an active merge area hidden somewhere in Sooke, likely in the Prestige Building. Lambda-Five cannot withdraw at this time, so your mission has changed from reconnaissance and information. Your new orders are to get L4-3 to the merge, get her inside of it, and regroup with Lambda-Five. SHOCKS Headquarters will retrieve her once she’s shut down the merge. Once both teams are together, pull back toward the quarantine line. Agents will be waiting to cover you.”
“Rules of engagement?” Rodriguez asks.
There’s a pause, and then Doctor Twitchy’s voice cuts in. “Lethal force is authorized to defend yourselves or complete the new primary missions.”
“Copy.”
[I’m pulling up what information we have,] James says. I’m only half-listening. My equation’s shot. Completely useless. Strauss steps away from the unconscious man in the middle of Highway Fourteen, grabs my shoulder, and pulls me toward a building on the left side of the road. It’s a convenience store.
As the door closes, I look back. The man’s jacket’s open, and his chest and stomach both look deformed and twisted, with tumors that look a lot like the devoured, if I squint right. But this can’t be the same reality.
It’s not. I solved that reality.
The door shuts behind us, and Strauss reloads his gun. “Going lethal. Based on what I saw, I’m guessing they’re not any stronger than a normal person, but they’ll probably ignore shots.”
“What were those?” I ask.
“Probably extra organs. That’s a common mutation in anomalous disease cults.” Strauss heads for the convenience store’s staff room, shoots the door handle, and levels his gun chest-high. “We’re cutting through here. The Prestige is a few blocks south. Time to see what you’ve got, L4-3.”
I take a deep breath and switch the Revolver from cold gravity shots to the warm, orange fire beam ones. Then Strauss opens the door, and I start clearing the room.
Check the corners. Square room. Behind cover? Not much—a couple of folding chairs and a low couch. Nothing. Other entrances? A steel door, probably to the back. The check only lasts about three seconds. “It’s clear,” I say.
“Okay. Keep moving.” He points at the steel door, and I open it.
A half-second later, one of Sooke’s citizens rushes me with a rusty-looking axe. Strauss puts three rounds into her, and she hits the ground—and pops like a balloon. Stinking, disgusting air gushes out of her instead of blood, and Strauss backpedals. “Contact!”
I breathe it in before I can get away. It burns and stinks, but other than that, I don’t feel any worse.
[Skill Learned: Toxin Resistance 4]
[That’s interesting,] James says. He sounds detached, like he’s dealing with other stuff—probably because he is. [Disease isn’t technically toxic. Shouldn’t that be a different skill?]
“I don’t care.” My stomach’s churning; resistant or not, it stinks. And what’s happened to this woman? That’s just not right. Her whole body’s empty inside. “Were any of the cultists who got past the barrier last night…like this?”
[No. They all appeared more like the guy Strauss stunned.]
“Let’s get going.” Strauss cuts the corner with his gun, then heads down the alley toward a fancy-looking building next to the shoreline.
I take one more look at the woman. She’s starting to decay way quicker than she should be. James doesn’t have any information yet, though, and after a second to get our spacing right, I follow Strauss.
----------------------------------------
Shots echo off the Prestige Building’s fancy-pants facade. Sora would probably be able to tell me the style and everything, but I only know that it wasn’t built this century. It’s all white marble pillars and decorations, perfectly manicured grass, and trimmed hedges. Even the glass walls in front of us surrounding the indoor pool look old.
Strauss shoots the glass twice, and it falls apart. “Move!”
We rush the glass. Someone charges toward me. When I shoot him, he bursts into flame as the disgusting gas inside him ignites. “James, do you have a location yet?”
[Negative. Working on it,] James says.
“Lambda-Four, Lambda-Five, treat all contacts as already deceased,” Command says. “Rules of Engagement are fully free.”
“About time.” Rodriguez sounds like she’s hurting. Hopefully, her suit’s okay. Hopefully, she won’t turn into one of these things. Most of them aren’t even people, really, they’re so hollowed out. They’re just gas bags.
The pool’s a big, square thing. It’s empty, except for a layer of slime at the bottom. Strauss starts moving toward the hotel’s hallways, but I stop him. “Hang on. Something’s weird here.”
He stops. “What?”
“Cover me,” I say. Then I drop down into the pool. My feet slip on the reeking goop, and I have to hold my breath as my stomach rolls and bile fills my throat. But something about the pool’s not right. It’s not right at all.
“L4-5, we have multiple cultists inbound,” Command says. “Lambda-Five is trying to intercept, but they’re not in position. Be ready.”
“Copy.” Strauss glances at the door. “L4-3, be quick. It’s about to get busy here.”
I ignore him. The pool’s a lie. It has to be. The goop’s disgusting; I can’t tell what it is, but it stinks like the inside of the woman Strauss shot. But under it…is something.
I can tell because of the ringing in my ears, and under the reeking, diseased smell, the scent of lupines. The truth’s hidden in the slime pit, and the truth is that the merge is right here, in front of me.
I take a deep breath; the goop’s deeper—and grosser—on the far side of the pool. That’s got to be where it is. Before Strauss can stop me, I take a deep breath that burns like cleaning supplies and smoke and vomit all at once. Then I dive into the stinking mass.
[Skill Learned: Toxin Resistance 5]
It’s bad. Really bad. It’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever done. But even as it covers me, and the cold, slimy goop gets between my fingers and toes and in my nose, the ringing gets louder.
My hand brushes against something familiar and Jell-O-like, and I use Mergewalk.