SHOCKS Olympia Tunnel Network Northwest, Washington, USA - June 19, 2043, 2:41 PM
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That answers most of my questions about the spider. It’s not enough to solve the Inquiry, though, and as much as I’m ready to abandon it, I feel like I’m close. My only question is where the Offspring came from because from what I witnessed, the spiders need to actually do the deed to reproduce. Is there a second massive spider here? Or is there something else at work?
The answer’s not coming to me—not yet, at least. But at least I know I’ve got a weapon to use against the spider.
My fragmented wings glow as I tuck the mergebreaker rounds into the Revolver and open fire.
It takes a few seconds to notice how far behind the spider’s fallen. And it takes another to realize that not only did I not move during my Truthseeker, but neither did it. That didn’t matter when I fought Li Mei, but it matters right now. It gives me a weapon to, if not kill the spider outright, hold it off.
But before I can start another Truthseeker with the intent of figuring out how it laid so many eggs in the Geren-Danger wing, it surges forward. The mergebreaker rounds hit it, and it wavers, but it doesn’t disappear. Not like Li Mei. I put the whole cylinder of rounds into it, but all it does is shake a little and slow a couple of steps. Openings appear on its body, and green blood drips from them. But it’s not a gushing fountain of blood, and it’s definitely not enough to kill the spider.
I don’t have enough information about its truth. That’s got to be it.
And a second later, it’s cutting the gap between it and the speeding monorail. It closes faster than I can follow—although James tracks it for me through my augment. [High-Xuduo, most likely. Keep it off the train!] he yells.
I switch to the gravity rounds, this time shooting the shredded back of the train. My thought is to make the train impossible to grab for a minute.
It works. The spider latches on—or tries to. Its legs curl in a tangle in the swirling, mixing singularities, and its body drags on the rocky floor and the single rail. Blood covers the back of the train—and me. It burns, but I ignore it even as it coats my skin and hoodie.
[Skill Learned: Physical Anomaly Resistance 16]
Instead, I push what’s left of the oxygen tanks to the back of the car, propping them against the pile of beams that seems more or less stable. The spider starts to break free. I reload, this time filling the Revolver with orange-glowing flame lance shells. Then I run for the third car.
There’s a gap between the two. It’s covered in fabric, so I can’t fall out, but the sound of wheels screaming against steel is less than two feet away, and the rubbery fabric’s not exactly reassuring—especially since I need to stay outside the third car for now. I hop across, mentally crossing my fingers, and start shooting into the coupling between trains.
When I was a kid, Dad used to play wooden trains with Alice and me. Alice would build these amazingly long trains connected by magnets and elaborate railways that stretched across our apartment. I spent most of my time breaking them. I was three, and that’s kind of what three-year-olds do.
But the magnetic couplings were the weak spot then, and they’re the weak spot—
The whole train lurches. Another section of the last car starts to tear off, and sparks fill the entire back of the train. Including the half-dozen tanks full of what I hope isn’t too much explosive oxygen.
There’s no time to separate the cars.
I switch targets and open up on the tanks.
The explosion’s not one big bang. It’s more like six. Each of them is enough to knock me off my feet; glass shatters around me, and fire—fire so hot it feels like the burning man just appeared next to me—fills the tunnel. Over the roar, I can hear screaming. Lots of screaming.
Then I hit something incredibly solid and incredibly hard.
Something gives.
It’s not me.
When I come to, James is running something across my optic aug.
[Internal damage to kidneys, stomach, and a minor concussion. Possible broken bones, but more likely sprains and bruising. First and second-degree burns—you’re lucky it’s not more than that.]
It takes me a second to realize it’s a damage report.
[Skill Learned: Physical Anomaly Resistance 17]
I wince as I stand up. “Is that it?”
[Yes.]
I don’t have time to respond to that, though. I look through the shattered wreckage of the steel and aluminum door I just got thrown through; an orange glow fills the twisted gap in the car, but it’s fading. That doesn’t mean the spider’s dead, though.
“Hello,” I mumble. “This is…you know what? James, can you take care of this?”
[Sure.]
A second later, the monorail’s speaker kicks on. “Attention, SHOCKS employees. Due to an engineering and combat-related failure, the third car in SHOCKS Olympia Transit System Line Bravo is no longer safe. Please evacuate to the second and first cars immediately. This is not a drill.”
It’s only then that I notice the people staring at me.
A dozen agents. Lambda Four-Four, Daley. A confused—or maybe hopeless, it’s hard to tell—Lieutenant Rodriguez.
And Sora.
But not Dad.
He must be one car up. I push myself to my feet and turn around. My whole front side feels like it’s been through an air frier, and my backside’s been clobbered with a baseball bat made of lead. But just in case the spider’s still out there and still pursuing, I’m the best chance any of these people have of surviving.
So I lift the Revolver and stumble over to the door. The gun pans across the narrow tunnel even as we round a shallow curve and the train dips downward, but I don’t see anything. That doesn’t mean nothing’s there, though.
I stand there, ready to fight, for…a long time. James doesn’t say anything as he switches my optic and aural augs from setting to setting, trying to get a better picture of the spider—if it even survived. And second by second, I start to relax. It’s got to be dead. Otherwise, it would have caught up by now.
A hand closes on my shoulder. I spin, Revolver coming up.
And there’s Dad. He looks me over: the scorched, half-melted hoodie and leggings; the gun in my hand; the burns across my face and what I know are slightly cross-eyed, black-and-red eyes under beaten-up, twisted, scratched glasses.
He looks different, too. He’s drawn, thin, and pale. But he’s not shaking and sick, and he doesn’t reach for a flask. He’s covered in dirt and sweat, and he stinks. But it’s a different stink. This one’s the smell of a man who’s not used to working hard but suddenly has to, mixed with anxiety, fear, and powerlessness.
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I brace myself for whatever’s coming.
“Claire, you look like shit.”
Sometimes, things don’t change.
I’m still Dad’s favorite. He’s still exactly who he is. But he’s survived the detox, and that’s something.
A million emotions go through my head. I want to hug him. I want to scream at him. I want to put my Revolver against his head and ask him what the hell he’s been doing, why he’s finally pulled himself out of the bottle, but he’s still acting like he has the right to tell me I look like shit when I saved his life just now and he couldn’t even lift a finger to fucking help.
He stares at me. I stare back. Then his mouth opens and his eyes narrow, and I realize I said the last half a sentence out loud. I clear my throat and raise my hand to cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. Dad, go to the second car.”
It does matter, though. It matters a lot, because part of me has been hoping that whatever SHOCKS was doing with my dad was going to fix everything about him. That he was going to come up for air from the bottles he’s been trapped in, realize it smells better away from them, and never dive back in. That he was going to take some fucking responsibility for all but abandoning Alice and me. Something.
But no. I save his life, and the first thing he says is that I look like shit. He didn’t even ask if I know where Alice is or if she’s okay.
And that stings. No, not stings. It cuts deep.
I keep focused on the tunnel. There’s no spider at the far end. I either killed it, or I did enough damage to make it go the fuck away. I’m not supposed to be swearing until I’m sixteen, but what the hell? I keep staring away from Dad so he can’t see my eyes shift back to the mud-brown they’ve always been, or the tears in them.
I was hoping he’d be fixed. He’s not. And I can’t forgive him for that.
[Claire, Director Ramirez wants to—]
“No.” I cut James off. How long have I been standing here? Long enough that the tears have gotten to my chin and started dribbling off, taking black soot and sticky green blood with them.
[He’s heading for this car now.]
“Seal the door.”
I’m not ready to talk to Doctor Twitchy. He’s the enemy. Not the same way the spider is, or that Merge Prime is. But he’s only going to make things worse. Even so, I can’t talk to him yet. I take a deep breath and turn around. Dad’s gone. Sora’s gone. Everyone’s packed into the first and second cars, so tightly they can barely move, but I can see them through the door.
[It’s sealed.]
“Thank you.” I find a seat that’s not too badly burnt and sit down where no one can see me. And then I think about Dad and let myself cry.
SHOCKS Olympia Tunnel Network Hub, Washington, USA - June 19, 2043, 2:47 PM
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The train stops far too quickly.
I’m not done yet. I need more time, but the train’s brakes squeal, and a massive door made from the mountain’s rocks and welded steel thuds shut behind it as we slide to a stop next to a platform that’s not much different from the one we left. The train’s voice—not James’s, but the train’s—says, “SHOCKS Headquarters Olympia: Administrative Wing.” And the outside doors open.
It’s time to put on my big girl pants. I wipe the tears from my eyes. In an ideal world, I’d have time to talk to Sora. Hopefully, that’ll happen, but first, I need to deal with Director Ramirez and Alexander.
Why are those two linked up, anyway?
The platform’s crawling with SHOCKS agents. In fact, it’s so busy it takes a minute before I realize two key things.
First, the lights are off. And second, other than the train’s engine that’s slowly winding down, there’s not a single sound. “James, are you doing that?”
[Yes. According to a preliminary look at the facility, I cannot find a single life source inside the Administrative Wing. I’m not finding corpses, either, so whatever happened, this isn’t like the Security Checkpoint at Hurricane Ridge. I believe this was an evacuation, or that whatever killed them removed the bodies and did it without leaving behind any remains.]
“I’m going to pretend they evacuated until you can prove otherwise,” I say.
There’s no time to say more because Director Ramirez is on the way over through the crowd of people, and Alexander’s with him. The big, one-eyed man has his backpack slung over one shoulder, and he watches me unblinkingly. I nod at him, meeting his stare. I can take him. I know it, and he knows it too, because after a few seconds that last way too long, he looks away, then walks toward the sealed facility doors.
Director Ramirez clears his throat. “How are you here? Why are you here? No, none of this matters. L4-4, do you know what the security situation is like inside SHOCKS Olympia? No? Then get me an Agent who does.”
“I’m here for my dad and Sora.” That’s a lie, but I’m not ready to tell the truth yet. Ramirez is here, and he’s going to weaponize the bomb that’s got to be at the heart of this facility. But he’s a long way from being able to do that, especially with James in Olympia’s internal network. So I have time.
“Well…” Ramirez looks at the back of the train and swallows uncomfortably. He’s sweating again, and he glances at an unmoving Lieutenant Rodriguez as people pull her stretcher off the train and set it down on the concrete platform. “Well, thank you for being here, L4-3.”
[Play along,] James says. [I don’t have control over the whole facility yet. This one’s weird. I should be able to override any security SHOCKS has in place, since I developed it all. Why can’t I—]
He cuts off mid-sentence. He’s still in my aug, but he’s not talking anymore.
“I’m not here for SHOCKS.” So far, I haven’t said anything Doctor Twitchy doesn’t know. I’m not giving him any new information. He doesn’t even know that I know who Alexander is—in fact, I probably know him better than anyone else. It’s better this way; SHOCKS isn’t an ally. They’re not all enemies, but they’re not my friends, either.
“Sure, L4-3. But you’re here for a reason, and that reason lines up with our goals. That puts us on the same side. Will you help us make sure SHOCKS Olympia’s clear?”
I take a deep breath. Then I nod. “What am I up against?”
The betrayal, if it’s going to come, is going to come from Alexander.
Director Ramirez is almost out of firepower, and he knows it. He’s got one trooper, a few dozen agents, and a bunch of armed teachers that I’m pretty sure would back me in a firefight over the SHOCKS director. He’s not as strong a negotiator as Rodriguez, either, and he knows I have all the cards. Between me and my powers, James and his, and SHOCKS’s complete lack of anything to offer me except a director’s badge to get control of the facility, they need me way more than I need them.
I’m not going to tell them that James isn’t talking right now, or that I haven’t been able to get his attention since he cut off mid-sentence.
Alexander, though? I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know what he can do other than shape reality to suit his needs. I don’t know if he needs to do anything else. And I don’t know why he hasn’t done that yet. He’s playing at being a normal person, but I saw his cell, and I know he’s not one. He’s like me, but rogue—intentionally cut off from the System.
I don’t know what he’ll do. I don’t know why he hasn’t done it yet. But I do know that when he acts, it won’t be pretty.
He’s a variable, and I don’t have a good way to solve for him.
“The facility’s defenses should be online. They’ll recognize you as anomalous and go active, but you’re still Level A personnel, so we can use that to keep them from killing you. The administrative wing isn’t connected to any long-term containment wings save for the tunnel network, but it’s unknown whether that’s been compromised.” Doctor Twitchy looks over his shoulder at the steel-and-stone door as if the big spider’s about to break through it.
It doesn’t. After a moment, he continues. “I don’t promise it’s safe in there. Further, most protocols, including Phalanx, Ostrich 1 and 2, and Wiretap, are likely still operational in this facility. It isn’t connected to the outside world by default, and it’s air-gapped heavily. I assume the JAMES unit is currently tearing apart the various digital warfare and security systems and inserting itself in their place?”
“Yes.” That one’s a lie, too. I’m getting good at lying to Doctor Twitchy. He doesn’t even notice.
“Great.”
“So, to sum it up, I’m going into a facility with unknown enemies, possibly active Intrusion Countermeasure systems trying to kill James, and with no backup?” I ask.
“Yes,” Doctor Twitchy says.
“I need five minutes.”
“You have it.”
Sora’s just getting off the train as I break free from Director Ramirez. I can feel a single eye on the back of my head, but I ignore it. Nothing levels up, so either Alexander can’t attack me directly through my Physical Anomaly Resistance and Mental Fortitude, or he’s not trying to. Either way, he’s staring, and I’m not ready to confront him. Not yet. But soon.
Instead, I rush Sora and wrap her in a hug. She returns it, and we stand there, in the way of everyone trying to do stuff, for a few seconds before she fidgets a little. “Claire, your gun’s stabbing my stomach.”
“Sorry.” I pull away.
“You’re okay.” She goes quiet for a second, then jerks her head toward the sealed metal door to the administrative wing. “You’re going in there, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Sora, I’m going to need your help. I can’t explain everything, but can you make sure the guy with only one eye’s not up to anything while I’m in there?”
“Sure. What’s his deal, anyway? Did he…?”
“Yeah. He pulled his own augs.” I don’t wait for her to fill in the blanks, or to react. “Can James still access your augs?”
“Maybe? I haven’t heard from him in a while.” Sora reaches for her ear, then turns the motion into a hair tuck. “He went quiet when we evacuated that place in Victoria. He hasn’t said anything since.”
That’s not great news. I was hoping to use him to keep tabs on what’s happening out here and get Sora’s opinion about problems I’m running into in there. But if I can’t get that, I can’t get it. Besides, James isn’t talking to me either. “Sorry. I don’t want to put it all on you, and I’ll explain what’s going on as soon as I can.”
“I get it. It’s the Truth,” Sora says. “Tell me what you can, when you can.”
“I will.”
I give her a quick hug, trying not to poke her in the stomach with the Revolver this time, and head to the entrance. It’s time to see what’s behind Door Number One.
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