Disintegrate: Magitech Legacy Book 6, page 7
“Oh, did I not mention that I sell security services?” Harry called cheerfully through the slot. “You know, I’ve got a nice flamethrower, and you’re gonna love my shotguns. It will only cost you ten thousand credits. I can take care of this lickedy split.”
“Are you damaged?” Miri sprinted from cover to another pillar, then ended a drifter with a life bolt, the ganger tumbling to the ground with a smoking hole directly through the heart. She darted behind her pillar, narrowly dodging a hail of return fire. “We could hire a full company for that. You could hire twenty of me, and I am worth far more than you, little robot-man.”
“Maybe, but there’s no full company present. Just me. Suit yourself, I suppose. Good luck then!” The slot slid shut.
A grenade tumbled to the ground a meter from my left foot, which crystallized something in my head. I’d been about to chastise Miri for that life bolt, but she’d been right. “It’s self-defense now! Light ‘em up.”
I silently thanked whoever had lobbed the grenade, then teleported it behind the pillar where I’d seen the muzzle glint in the darkness. The grenade detonated, and the man who’d thrown it screamed.
I popped from cover and sighted down Dez’s barrel as I activated my divine sight. I didn’t know if the nanites could track divine magic, but I figured once the grenades were flying I could use whatever I wanted.
Seven toughs in mismatched armor lurked behind pillars, and one doomed fool had chosen a garbage can that was most definitely not hard cover. “Rava, give me some cover fire.”
Rava’s spellrifle began a deep rumbling staccato that drowned out all other sound. She was using explosive rounds, which streaked from the muzzle on wings of flame, each round punching through stone, and armor and flesh, briefly illuminating the room as my sister did for the poor fool behind the garbage can and two of his closest friends.
I pulled deep on void and fire, and launched an implode at the idiot behind the most intact pillar, and he didn’t even have time to scream as his torso disintegrated.
Miri popped from cover, which drew small arms fire from the remaining gangers. A pair in the back added a withering hail of fire from assault rifles, deeper and more urgent.
As the rounds streaked toward Miri they halted in midair, her wards materializing to block them, each fading slightly as it bled off the kinetic force. By the time they’d fallen entirely, Miri was already back in cover.
Rava and I took full advantage. I launched two surgical void bolts, ending the pair wielding the heaviest rifles. My sister walked her rifle down the rest, this time using fire bolts, which kevlar did nothing to protect the poor gangers against.
And then it was over. I rose from cover, breathing elevated, but not panting as I’d have been a year ago. My vision confirmed none of those people were getting back up.
“All right, Harry, it’s safe now. You can stop hiding. Don’t worry. We’ll protect you.” I lathered every word of it in professional-grade sarcasm.
“You realize this was a shakedown, right?” Rava jerked a finger behind her at the transport.
“Attempted shakedown,” I corrected. “We’re in unfamiliar territory, and we need him to grease the wheels for us. It may even end up costing credits.”
“It had better not.” Miri joined us as she holstered her spellpistol. “I can get us there and take care of any locals. We do not need that empty-faced thief.”
“Listen,” I added steel to my tone. “When in Rome, you do Romans. That’s the way it works. We’re going to play their corrupt little game, and if I have to bribe this ass, then I will.”
“I prefer prick.” Harry sidled up to us carrying a flamethrower and had added a large canister on his back. “We don’t really use asshole as an insult here, because everybody spews shit. So it’s sort of a given. Now then, we’re going to head down to sub-basement level one. You sure you don’t want the protection package? Might be we run into real trouble there, not this group of completely random thugs I in no way knew.” He nudged the drifter with his foot. “Poor Marty. You melted his head right off, didn’t you? There’s nothing but legs left. Ah, well. Who’s hungry? I sell snacks.”
A missile launcher whirred up from the ‘borg’s shoulder, but in place of missiles contained little plastic containers, each with a pastry or snack inside.
My sister’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ll take a cupcake. Please tell me the other launcher actually has missiles.”
“Nope,” Harry gave back cheerfully as the second missile launcher popped out of the other shoulder. “Anyone want a beer? It’s cold. Ish.” He snatched a can from the launcher, cracked it, and downed the contents in one fluid stream. “Ah, that hits the spot. I can still taste. Made them leave that, though it cost extra.”
Rava tucked her cupcake into her pack as we advanced up the corridor, toward a lift. A freaking lift. “You realize that if we take that thing down we’ll be helpless for anyone waiting down there, right? They’ll be in cover.”
“Ten thousand credits and you can stand behind me.” Harry burped metallically. “What do you say?”
“I’ll take my chances.” I moved to the lift and glanced down with my sight. They weren’t surprising me. So far as I was concerned this was self-defense. “Let’s go.”
7
Breaking Rules
The lift rumbled into motion and began slowly descending, each meter purchased through a reluctant groan. That gave me plenty of time to study the room we’d be arriving from, with the benefit of the high ground. I spotted every last occupant, most of whom were armed, but it didn’t appear they were waiting in ambush.
Groups of three to five people clustered throughout the room, each surrounded by bags or boxes of haphazard possessions. Tarps, crates, and discarded wire had been used to erect crude, but effective, shelters. I’d seen this sort of scavenged work before and had lived in them a time or three, and these were a cut above most.
By the time we’d made it halfway down, the locals had heard the lift, and those closest began taking cover and drawing weapons. However, their posture was quite different from the ambushers. Instead of aggression, I read nervousness. They’d fight if they had to and would be prepared, but they weren’t looking for trouble. Yet.
The lift continued down and both Rava and Miri dropped into a crouch. Both were ready for a fight, but I knew discipline would hold them until I gave the word.
“I don’t think they want trouble,” I whispered into the comm as the lift rumbled to a grateful rest.
The doors opened, and of course, every light had been shot out except for the one at the center of the room. It was the unspoken rule of urchins and homeless in every society. We can see you, but you can’t see us, so we can scurry away if needed.
“Okay, mate, here we are.” Harry strode boldly from the lift as if we’d entered another official facility and seemed utterly unconcerned by the milling locals. All armed. I mentioned that, right?
The ‘borg ambled past four burned-out terminal shells. The once computers now served as bonfires, which roared merrily from within the nearly indestructible casing.
Past them lay a single intact terminal, knocked onto its side in a pile of refuse. Harry strode over, rested one hand on the side, and then hefted the bulky terminal with whirring servos as he maneuvered it into place. “It’s even got power and everything. All you need to do is input your security clearance, and you should be able to pull whatever data you need. I’ll be making a copy, of course. Ministry needs to know what you’re peeping. You understand.”
“Sooo….” I moved to stand before the terminal. “I need security clearance? That seems like it would have been good to know before we got here.”
A flashing cursor sat at a prompt before a simple file path.
C:securedauthcheck … PLEASE INPUT CLEARANCE>
Interesting. It clearly wanted some sort of command to get further.
“You, ah, do have clearance, right?” Harry whistled innocently behind me. “Because if not, well, just so happens that I do, and I could sell you access for a hundred thousand credits. I seen that fancy ship you arrived on. It’s the size of a bloody moon. You piss credits. Just pay up, and I can get you what you want. There’s every likelihood your rocks are in a security locker along one of the walls. Don’t cheap out on me.”
I didn’t actually own a hundred thousand credits. I had very little personal money, and owning the Word was an endless credit pit. All it ever did was suck me dry. There was simply no way I could bribe him.
“I don’t have the money.” I shrugged helplessly. “How about you let us in anyway, and I share what we find? The ministry wants to know, right? Could be good for your career.”
“Career.” The ‘borg snorted a metallic laugh. “Listen, mate, I need to line my pockets today, right now, with credits, not with promises. You pay up, or it looks like we’re all done for the day. Should I get the engines all warmed up? I can have you topside in a jiffy.”
The cyborg’s arm came up and jerked a thumb back the way we’d come. His metallic grin told me he knew he had us dead to rights. Either I found a way to pay his bribe, or the whole trip was for nothing.
Rage roiled within me. I’m not an angry guy. I try to be reasonable. But I’d been screwed over, given the runaround, and generally disrespected on multiple worlds. My father had died. My mother had died. Visala had died.
Here we were trying to help the stupid Confederacy, to find a way to feed these people, and maybe find a weapon to stop Necrotis from turning their planet into an orbiting mausoleum. And this guy wanted to rake me over the coals?
No. Just no. I wasn’t going to take this crap anymore. I wasn’t going to play by their rules anymore.
“Hey, I’ve got a question for you.” I rested my hand on Dez’s hilt and realized I’d been speaking the wrong language all along. “What kind of buffer do your cyber eyes have? I imagine you’re recording right now, right? But you probably only send a data burst every fifteen minutes?”
“Once an hour. Uses less bandwidth.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly and made cocking both his shotguns part of the shrug. I ignored the implied threat, and thumbed Dez from explosive rounds, over to magic. This guy could walk away from an explosive round. He wasn’t going to walk away from the spell I was about to use. Harry noticed the gesture with whirring eyes but seemed unimpressed. “Which means that were someone to, say, execute their driver and ensure the buffer was destroyed, there’d be no record of what happened here today. Course, that assumes you can kill me, and that these lot don’t turn on you the second your back is turned. You sure you don’t just want to pay up?”
“If you ask again I’m going to turn my sister and Miri loose on whatever my obliterate doesn’t finish. Now be quiet. I need to think. Miri, if he speaks other than to answer a question, end him, okay?” I began to pace before the terminal as I considered my plan.
Miri brought her spellpistol up, while Rava moved off and aimed her rifle loosely at the space before our crew, a threat to any locals who might see an opportunity.
Harry had unwittingly given me the last piece I needed. The last bit of information that said I could finish this op safely and be back on my ship before Ternus could do squat about it. “If one of us casts a spell how long does it take before the ministry is notified?”
“About ten minutes.” The ‘borg strode over to us, his eyes whirring as he focused on me. Neither shotgun came anywhere near me though, as close to a truce as I was going to get.
Both Miri and Rava closed ranks, their weapons coming up as the ‘borg approached. He slowed and put his hands up to show he meant no harm. “Easy there, ladies. We’re still friends.”
I raised a hand and conjured flames in my palm, then began to scry back through time in that very room, my favorite trick. I didn’t know how far I’d have to go, so I made the first few jumps random until I reached a time when the room wasn’t coated in feces and all the terminals worked.
I reversed the flow of time and watched events play out at hyper speed. Eventually, someone sat down at the terminal I intended to use, and I carefully studied the command they typed in at the prompt. B51216451. I committed it to memory, then released the spell.
“Mate, you ain’t too bright, are you?” Harry shook his head sadly. “In about ten minutes that spell is going to reach the ministry. They’ll puzzle out that you weren’t defending yourself, and you’re going to be shackled and put to work. For three years, they say, but we all know they’ll find cause to stretch your term. Will work out to be more like twenty unless you piss someone off, and then it will just be lethal. Nope, not too bright.”
My spellpistol filled with dream magic and a bolt of pink slammed into the ‘borg’s face, sinking into the metal and causing his mechanical eyes to whir.
“Mate, I am not impressed. You can’t put a robot to slee—” Harry’s digitized voice trailed off as my dream bolt took effect. The cyborg lumped over, and the eyes whirred out of focus.
“Keep an eye on him. He’ll be back up quickly. I’m sure he’s got some sort of chem harness.” I knelt at the keyboard and input the code I’d pilfered from my scrying. The terminal flashed and revealed a menu of commands.
My fingers flew as I explored. The first step was creating a local copy of all data in my suit, which the terminal obligingly created, and then I began browsing while it copied. There were countless topics sorted by year, so I browsed to the date attached to the recording we’d viewed.
“Jackpot.” I tapped in the same security sequence again, and a thunk sounded from the far side of the room as a security locker popped open with the hiss of long-sealed air.
Several hundred dark rock shards slid out on a wide metal tray, each wrapped in clear plastic.
“Rava, Miri, gather up the shards. Be careful not to touch them directly.” I prowled over to the locker with Dez still in hand, certain one of the locals would make a play for the open locker. None did, though every last one studied us, even the ones lurking around Harry’s corpse.
I scanned the manifest with one eye, then sighed when I realized what the dates were telling me. “It looks like these are a small sample. Most of the shards were sent to an exhibit at Houston University.”
“And do you have a plan to get us there?” Rava swept the muzzle of her rifle over the closest parts of the crowd to discourage them from approaching the locker. “We’re not going to be able to take his transport. Biometrically locked, almost certainly.”
“We don’t need the ship. I have a plan to get us home at least.” I stood as close to the shards as I dared, knowing that the plastic casing wouldn’t stop them from draining my magic if I got too close.
“Guardian.” I connected to the Word through my armor. “I need you to teleport us down to engineering. Set up a containment field for the Shards of Gortha, and teleport them as well.”
“Captain!” The Guardian appeared in my vision, the smiling hatchling cradling his ornate staff. “I see you were successful in the search. I can move the shards, but be aware that due to their nature teleporting them requires a disproportionate amount of magic.”
A graph appeared over his shoulder. Hmm. The requirements were about three hundred percent higher than usual. High, but not prohibitively for a few hundred shards that might end the war if we deployed them properly.
“Do it,” I ordered.
The last thing I saw before the teleport completed was the scavengers swarming Harry’s unconscious body. Maybe I should have felt bad. I had no pity left. He’d been an obstacle, and we’d removed him. That was that. Besides, I had a feeling he’d find a way out somehow.
The teleport completed, and we landed in engineering. I willed my helmet to slither off my face and enjoyed a deep breath of much fresher air. Beside me, Rava and Miri did the same.
“Why did you risk it?” Miri unzipped her uniform a few millimeters and shook out the sweat from her hair. Her breathing was still elevated, but barely. She recovered from combat so quickly. The Inuran raised a perfect eyebrow and looked me directly in the eye. “Are you not a fugitive on this world now?”
“I am. And I’d do it again. I don’t intend to ever go back. Or back the Nebiat system. I’ve had about enough of Ternus, and the Confederacy in general. More and more I’m questioning why we’re here, instead of making our own way in the sector. We don’t owe anyone anything, and I’m tired of asking when we should just be doing.”
Miri nodded thoughtfully at my words but said nothing by way of reply. I waved to Vee on the far side of the room where she stood working with her crew on the reactor, and she began hurrying over.
“Where do you intend to go then?” Rava asked as Vee reached us.
“I intend to take us to Xal for training, as soon as I can speak to either Nara or Aran to arrange it.” I folded my arms and gathered my resolve. “I’m getting pretty sick of being sidelined, and of having our decisions made for us. We’re a force in our own right. If Ternus wants to come after me for casting a scrying spell they’re welcome to do so. I will not be conscripted due to their worthless laws. We saw how they treated Lady Voria in the last year, and I know Bortel doesn’t trust or like them.”
“I do not care for such politics. Tell me when there is something else to shoot.” Miri gave a shrug and a yawn. “I am going to find a shower to remove the filth. Enjoy your new rocks, but take a break to dine with me this evening.” She gave a little wave and sauntered off.
Vee had already picked up one of the shards, and she looked up at me with a smile. “Two hundred and thirty-six by my quick count. That’s enough to conduct dozens of experiments and to find out whether or not we can weaponize these. I imagine they can be fired like buckshot, and they’d probably shred anything they hit, even a Great Ship.”
“Yeah, but we don’t have nearly enough of them.” I envisioned the Maker’s Wrath and realized that these would only punch through a tiny portion. “We’re going to need the ones they have in the library. Maybe more than that. Thousands are good but millions are better.”
