SHOCKS Headquarters, British Columbia - May 29, 2043, 11:13 PM
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The convoy pulled into SHOCKS Headquarters’ garage, and Lieutenant Rodriguez breathed a sigh of relief as the last truck rumbled into its parking spot and the engines cut off. Around her, truck doors opened as RST troopers disembarked, stretching before helping researchers unload the Mobile Containment Units or establishing a perimeter around the ones that looked like they were about to breach.
“Doctor Ramirez, give me a status report. How many did we lose?” She barked.
The shifty-looking doctor jumped at her voice but hurried over, fingers moving across a tablet’s screen as sweat dripped from his brow. He fiddled with the device for a few minutes before clearing his throat. “We lost four Xuduo-Danger anomalies from the time we turned around until now. One Geren and no Anquan. There’s a chance the Geren will turn up again, too. It’s an Object with spontaneous manifestation in any previously-visited location, so if it shows up in containment—“
“Okay, great. See if you can open the facility doors so we can move back in.” Rodriguez dismissed the researcher with a wave, then grabbed her right-hand man, Strauss. “Your new job is to keep Doctor Ramirez in line until we’re established. He’s probably Acting Director, so he’ll have the whole facility under his control. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. We’ll set up for expeditions once we’re secure here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Strauss said, snapping a salute. He followed the doctor, stripping his battle gear but keeping a pistol at his waist.
The moment he disappeared, Olivia Rodriguez took a deep breath, letting herself relax with a shiver for the first time in their eight-hour drive back across Victoria. They’d had close calls and, twice, had to drive straight through merge events with guns blazing, but somehow, they’d only lost five MCUs and a half-dozen personnel. She closed her eyes and leaned against the armored truck’s rear bumper; if she was right, they had enough people to keep SHOCKS Headquarters VVI running—and with the communications blackout, they could get established before the other HQs figured out what had happened.
Or they could try hailing the other HQs and letting them know what had happened here. They were violating about a dozen SHOCKS protocols—not to mention were actual traitors—but the facility had felt like a better bet than dashing across Vancouver hoping for an empty ferry. And she was pretty sure she could find evidence that Director Smith wasn’t following protocol in his evacuation. Their job was to contain and study anomalies, and in a disaster like this, they had to focus on the containment part.
Other facilities would understand. They’d have to.
And if not, it wasn’t like they could get here and stop her. Victoria was a no-fly zone, and there weren’t any boats across. If there had been, she’d have gone with Director Smith, procedure violations or not.
“Lieutenant, you need to see this,” Strauss called over his comms. “We’ve got a problem. Director’s office.”
“Fuck,” Olivia said under her breath. “I’ll be there in one minute.”
She ran through the facility, passing dozens of computers stuck at their login screens. About halfway through the offices, she realized she was still in her battle gear, right down to the rifle hanging on its harness. The familiar weight felt comforting, and she slid her hand into the grip, though the safety stayed on and her finger rested outside the guard.
Acting Director Ramirez sat in the Director’s chair, staring at the computer’s screen in horror. “Lieutenant, the JAMES system isn’t down. It’s…gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Lieutenant flipped the safety off—if the JAMES system was down, containment breaches would follow.
“I mean there’s a sector off the Xuduo-Danger wing that houses the JAMES unit. Nothing there is responding, and I can’t pull up information on any anomalies’ status. It’s like there’s no JAMES unit, and without it, we don’t have automatic databases, security, SHOCKS emergency systems…nothing.”
Lieutenant Rodriquez grabbed the doctor’s arm and dragged him out of the seat. “Show me. Strauss, get geared up, grab L4, and meet us at the Xuduo wing in three.”
As she dragged Acting Director Ramirez through the halls and toward the elevator, Rodriguez found her heart pounding. The elevator’s doors looked shredded and shot—and not by a small weapon. Was this the work of an anom? And which one? She kept her weapon trained on the elevator until the rest of RST Lambda-Four arrived, loaded for a big fight. Strauss had his tech bag, but other than that, every piece of gear was built to kill anomalies.
“Okay, stack up, keep the acting director alive, and keep your teammates covered. No telling what’s going on in there,” Rodriguez said. “All in, go.”
The team hurried into the elevator, which smelled faintly of smoke and gunpowder. Rodriguez's heart pounded the whole way down and all the way through the stuffy, ash-filled Xuduo hall. She expected an ambush, but nothing leaped out at them, and even though every man’s tension pushed against hers, their training paid off. Even better, the containment cells—those that hadn’t been evacuated, at least—were still sealed, if damaged.
“Looks like the Stag Lord,” L4-2 said. “That one’s a piece of work. I was involved in a recontainment attempt two or three years back. Hopefully, it’s not the cause of this.”
“Agreed,” Strauss said.
“Keep it quiet, good intervals, and switch to incendiary.” Rodriguez sprinted down the hall toward a door at the end—one that should have been locked but that’d been ripped from its hinges. She shivered but leaned in closer and stared at the rotting roots wedged into what was left of the frame. Then she waved L4-2 over. “This the Stag Lord’s work?”
He ducked in to take a close look. Then he pointed at the door. “Affirmative. Weapons sharp, shoot to kill. It’ll temporarily neutralize it, then we can lock it up in a fire room and keep it suppressed.”
“Got it. You heard L4-2. Get ready to rock, ladies and gentlemen.” Rodriguez handed Doctor Ramirez her pistol. “You too. Don’t shoot us. Say something if you see something, and keep yourself out of trouble.”
Without waiting for a response, she pushed through the door into the JAMES Experimental Sector.
The electric and wood smoke smell only got thicker as they moved past the server banks and toward the main console—and the shredded plant matter that covered half of the concrete floor. Acting Director Rameriz sprinted past her and toward the console before she could stop him, pistol clattering to the ground by his feet. “Oh dear. Oh dear, that’s not good at all.”
For now, she ignored the scientist’s whitening face and worried-sounding muttering. Instead, she moved toward the gigantic mound of plants. L4-2 kicked at something. “Fuck. That’s the Stag Lord.”
“That’s the Stag Lord?” Rodriguez asked, raising an eyebrow at the tiny, burned object. From the holes in its body, it didn’t look like much of a threat.
L4-2 nodded slowly. “Neutralized. Not temporarily, either. I’ve never seen damage like that. It had to be anomalous.”
“Confirmed,” Acting Director Ramirez said from the computer. “All the damage is in line with our tests on Subject - 573-V-1/IO Alpha and her weapon. I can’t get the JAMES unit running through this damage. There’s just no way.”
“Okay. Battle plan?” Rodriguez asked.
Strauss cleared his throat. Then, after a moment of silence, he started talking. “We go back upstairs, set up a Universal Reality Anchor at the top of the elevator, and set up other temporary containment there. Guard it, hole up here, and start trying to track down IO Alpha. We get her back, we get James back, too. And we try to keep the city from falling apart.”
Rodriguez nodded. Then she started heading for the airlock. Her head spun from the mess she was in now, and when she got to the elevator, she didn’t notice the thin black wisp of smoke that joined RST Lambda-Four for its ride up.
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Aberdeen Hospital, Victoria, British Columbia - May 30, 2043, 12:43 PM
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By the time the elevator dings and opens, I’ve thought of—and thrown away—several possible equations. James has offered some information, but he’s not helping eliminate variables; there are just too many of those. So, my current plan is as follows.
I’m going to play this completely straight.
That’s the whole plan.
I’m going to listen to Sergeant Strauss, follow directions, and not let him know any of my other skills. And if I get an opportunity to do what James wants, I’ll take it, but as important as that link to the SHOCKS database is, it’s not worth getting killed for. And Strauss is highly suspicious of me right now.
So, the elevator door opens, and he gestures for me to take the lead. I step out into a hall. But it’s not the hospital hall. It’s dark—not pitch-black, but dark enough that Strauss flips on his flashlight. And high above, where the walls end in an open sky, I can see a single red sun, impossibly close, and wispy clouds that look stretched and twisted by a wind we can’t feel this far down.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
While Strauss’s flashlight illuminates the red brick walls and something that’s dripped all over the floor, I smell the lilacs and copper in the air, only half paying attention. What I’m really doing is running the numbers as James talks my ear off.
[This matches R093. Maze world, with an exit somewhere inside it. And based on the blood, it’s feeding off the hospital’s patients…or its staff. That might be why the storyline needed a new doctor. I’m trying to rebuild the SHOCKS database entry on it, but we could really use Strauss’s information here. All I have are my memories, not the facts.]
The math is simple. That’s refreshing, after all the complicated variables in SHOCKS Headquarters. If Strauss cooperates with me, we’ll both get through this. If not, we won’t.
But he’s obviously got orders to place me under custody, and he’s also called for backup. Or at least, I would have if I were him.
And flower smells never mean anything good, and the lilac scent’s getting stronger.
“This isn’t part of your storyline, is it, Alpha?” Strauss asks.
I snort. “I don’t think so. They gave me a prescription for antibiotics and let me go. Then, when I came back, everyone was a little off.” I don’t elaborate. Doctor Dwyer’s smile’s still stuck in my head, and I’d rather not guess what kind of medical contraptions he’s got rigged up in exam room thirty-seven. It doesn’t matter because we’re down here—or in here, whatever—and we can’t worry about that until we deal with this.
“Okay, I’ve called it in, and I’m waiting for a response.” Strauss turns around, and I follow the flashlight’s circle as it passes over the wall where the elevator used to be. Sure enough, it’s nothing but a brick wall. My eyes squeeze closed, and I open them in case this is a nightmare. It’s not, but it was a nice thought. “Still think the URA’s down here?” I ask.
“I really hope so. Command, we’ve encountered a shift. The basement is a separate anomaly. Please advise.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and in that moment, I decide to take control. Before he can finish saying, “Command, come in,” a second time, I’ve got my Revolver out, and I’m moving into the hall. My heart’s pounding as I work my way down the hall, careful not to step in the trail of dark brown blood. After a moment, Strauss starts following me, breathing steadily. I wish I could be that calm.
It’s calm enough that my pulse isn’t deafening anymore by the time we reach the first intersection. I stop there, facing right, while Strauss faces left—toward the blood streak. He keeps looking over his shoulder at me until I clear my throat. “If I wanted to make a move, I would have by now.”
Strauss stiffens. His gun’s up to his shoulder, in my face, and my heartbeat’s out of control again. But I’m committed now. “I have a secret to tell you, and I know exactly how you’re going to react, but it’s worth it to tell you now.”
But before I can actually tell him, something rushes up from behind Strauss.
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They’re rats.
Dozens of them, skinless and each as high as my knee, surge along the blood streak toward Strauss. My Revolver goes up, but I hesitate long enough for him to get out of the way. They’re not watching him, anyway. Their yellow eyes are all on me, glowing in the flashlight.
I start firing. Half a dozen rats explode, their guts burning as they turn to vapor. Strauss fires four times. Four rats die. One bites his foot. The boot takes the worst of it. He shakes it off and fires again. The Revolver booms out again and again. Rats swarm past Strauss toward me. I back up down the right-hand path. One rat bites into my thigh. It chews my skin. I turn to shadow, and it falls to the floor. Strauss fires three more times. One bullet punches through my shadow form. Two more find rats. I’m solid. The Revolver’s firing. A rat’s chewing on Strauss’s arm. Something’s biting me. Lots of somethings are biting me. Muzzle flashes. Brick dust. The smell of lilacs.
[Skill Learned: Physical Anomaly Resistance 4]
Then, suddenly, it’s quiet.
“Jesus,” Strauss says.
I nod slowly. “What the fuck?” I mutter to myself. I’ve got chew holes in my leggings, and one rat’s mauled my boots, but I’m only bleeding from a couple of wounds, and even those are…not painless, but dull and throbbing like they’ve been there for a while instead of fresh. So that’s different.
[R093 had various hazards. None of them were important enough for me to remember in detail. Those rats aren’t even a Geren-Danger anomaly,] James says.
“Thanks, James,” I say.
Strauss stiffens. He points his gun at me, and I nod again. “Yeah. Your system’s with me now. So, since you’re cut off and I’ve got the Joint Anomaly Management Enhancement System at my disposal, we need to talk about what happens once we’re out of here.”
“No, we don’t.” Strauss is also bleeding, but he lowers his gun. A moment later, he’s digging in a pocket on his belt. He pops a painkiller, wraps a couple loops of white bandage around the worst bites, and stares me down. “Alpha, I like you. But right now, if you want to get out of here at all, you’re coming with me. I’ve got the equipment to get us both out of here. We’ll go our separate ways, and I can tell Command that you got killed. They’ll believe it. You’re just a greenie.”
He’s bluffing. I know he is. So, before he can turn and walk away, I plant my feet. “Strauss, I’m tired, and I haven’t eaten anything except dried prunes in two days. My head’s pounding from my shitty augs, so how about you sit down and tell me what’s going on?”
“No.” He starts walking, but while I might not know the truth, I know he’s not telling it. That makes the bluffing game an easy one to win. By the fifth step, though, I’m doubting myself a little. Then he stops. “Fine. I have three missions. First, reactivate the Universal Reality Anchor. Second, secure Aberdeen Hospital to use it as an evac point. And last, bring you in. So, after we get out of here, the cuffs go back on, and we drive right back to VVI Headquarters. “
That’s a slap. It’s also the truth, though. Strauss has no intention of letting me go. “James, options?”
[Your best bet continues to be sticking with him. You might be able to build a rapport and convince him not to turn you in, or escape once you’re free from R093.]
“No, that’s not going to happen.” I level the Revolver at him, backing down the right-hand path. He nods slowly, both hands off his rifle. “If you try to follow me, I’ll punch a hole in you, armor or not. You can’t handle me.”
Strauss doesn’t make a move. He just stares at me. His mouth’s moving inside his visor, though. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but it’s not SHOCKS. It can’t be SHOCKS. We’re not even in the same reality as them anymore. I keep the Revolver trained on him until I’m around the corner, then I run. My feet pound on the brick floor, and when I round a corner, my shoulder hits the unyielding red-brown wall. I make it around the next corner, then stop. Overhead, one of the turbo-speed clouds wafts by.
[Alright, you’re far enough. Don’t get lost.]
James is right. I can’t trust Strauss, but I can’t get lost, either. “Are you mapping this?”
[I’m trying to. I’m also analyzing escape plans before something worse than a vaguely anomalous Anquan-Danger rat finds us.]
"And, what do you have?
[Two options. First, you push down this path and see if you can break through somewhere. I map our route the whole way, and we trial and error until I see a pattern we can exploit.]
“Or?” That sounds awful and slow.
[We follow Strauss.]
“Oh…”
[The blood trail makes me think that whatever’s in charge of this maze lives that way, and R093’s exit points are always controlled by the biggest monster in the area. So, if I’m right…]
“Oh. Strauss is heading toward the ‘boss monster,’ yeah. Makes sense.” I check the Revolver, stretch my limbs—the feeling of stretched bite wounds is painful in a familiar, achy way—and turn back toward the SHOCKS agent.
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Rats attack before I’m even to the bloodstain.
Their furless, skinless bodies surge forward like the tide, but I’m already shooting. Three fall. Five. A couple get to me, biting at my boots and legs. I kick one away, then shoot the other.
[Skill Learned: Revolver Mastery 8]
The fight’s over almost before it begins, leaving me alone. The strung-out clouds fly over, and I can hear the wind whistling against the maze’s open top in the silence. A little brick grit falls into the passageway, bouncing against my hair and glasses, and I keep walking. Is it just walls, or are the hollow spaces filled in? I don’t know, and after a moment, I decide I don’t care. It won’t help me solve this maze.
Besides, James is helpfully projecting a map in my eye. The heat’s picking up, but it’s manageable so far; I blink back a tear and keep walking.
The blood trail’s still there. So are the rat corpses. I start moving toward the left path, but James clears his throat. [Give him a couple more minutes. You don’t want to run into him—otherwise, we’re both right back where we started. And don’t forget, if you can get access to his helmet, that’ll help me out a lot.]
“Yeah, okay, got it.” I’m not in a waiting-around mood, so I busy myself by checking out one of the more intact rat bodies. The thing doesn’t have fur or skin; if I hadn’t seen rats in our basic living building all the time, I wouldn’t be able to tell it even was one. Its head is half caved in from the rifle round that blew through it, but one yellow eye stares back at me, unmoving. Its leg muscle tightens when I poke it, jerking the whole rat forward.
I take a step back. Rats are bad enough, but something about these makes my stomach rise into my throat.
[The Halcyon System’s calling it a pride rat pack. I hate these names. SHOCKS called them R093-L-Alpha.]
“Yeah, that’s not going to work." Pride rat pack sounds better. The wind’s howling is a little different overhead, and I start jogging down the maze. “Think he’ll follow the blood?”
[80% certain.]
That’s pretty good. And James isn’t lying about the number, but something feels weird about it. It’s not a truthful number, even if it’s not a lie. I decide not to say anything; instead, I follow the blood.
Strauss has been careful not to step in the blood, but here and there, I can see the edge of a boot pattern. Another group of rats runs toward me, but it’s smaller than the last two, and three Revolver shots finish them off before they can bite at my calves. Even though it doesn’t hurt as much as it should, it’s painful enough, and I release a relieved breath when the last one dies.
[Skill Learned: Endurance 4]
My wounds are scabbing over already by the time I hear a rifle’s rapid-fire pops in the distance. They grow closer, followed by a hissing roar I can’t place. Suddenly, the arrows in James’s map change, reversing direction and diving down a side hallway. [Hurry! Go!]
I’ve barely turned the corner when the rifle sounds redouble in volume. Strauss is firing for all he’s worth, and as he backs past my hiding spot, his whole attention is on something that towers over him. His shots echo off the wall behind me, and I ready the Revolver, but then he’s gone, backing down the hall toward the direction I just came from.
The thing he’s shooting at fills the whole hall a moment later.
Tall. That’s my first impression. Limbs are too long and thick. The arms hang down almost to its ankles. It’s naked, with pink skin so pale it’s almost white, and I can’t tell if it’s male or female. Its chest is practically caved in, and it’s bleeding from a dozen wounds. But those don’t catch my eye.
What does is the blade attached to its arm-stump, where its wrist should be. It’s as long as me—maybe as long as Strauss. The screeching its tip makes fills the whole hall as it scrapes the floor. It drowns out the whistling wind. It’s dragging the huge knife down the hall. Not in a rush. It ignores another burst from Strauss’s rifle. As it walks by, its gray eyes and noseless face peer at me.
Then it’s gone. Stalking Strauss. And once I stop shaking in fear from the monstrous figure’s gaze, I have a choice to make.
This thing has to be the exit monster. And it definitely has it out for Strauss. Running for it, leaving this maze, and turning on the URA on the other side would be simple. I could be gone by the time Strauss gets out and not have to worry about him.
Or I could help him.
James is quiet. He’s probably running a simulation or trying to put together some info about the—
[Scythestalker]
—Sure, the scythestalker. I’m pretty sure that’s not what James wants to call it, but here we are. So I could help Strauss. He’s outmatched. The little wounds he’s managed to make on that monster haven’t slowed it down, and it knows the maze better than he does. Maybe with James mapping a route, he’d be okay. But he doesn’t have James.
I do, and I’ve got the Revolver. That’s got to have enough punch to at least make that thing respect me as a threat, right? Besides, even though I don’t have to trust Strauss, having him in my debt might be helpful once we’re out of the maze. Maybe he’ll let me go or give me a head start.
Besides, he might be a boogeyman, but he’s also a person, and I haven’t seen enough of them recently. And that makes the choice easy.
I run back into the blood-covered hall, Revolver up, and pull the trigger. The fire burst catches the scythestalker in the small of its back, and it hiss-roars as it turns to face me.