Chapter 18: ~Target.~
“What's the difference between a rocket and a projectile?
A projectile can't turn on you.”
-About reaction and response
***Aether, The Floating City, above the Atlantic Ocean***
***Gideon***
I reach for a nacho and dip it in a generous manner into the cheese sauce. Wolfing down nachos while watching a movie is the best way to relax myself while the main part of my mind is working on my problems. Mage society doesn't have many of the social game-wonders which I got to know during my time prowling through the internet. Mages don't seem to have the time to play games.
But what they have are movies, and good ones at that. Despite my problems with human interactions, I am a fan of the action-genre. I can't see the point in romance movies, but seeing explosions and other cool stunts activates a primal instinct within me.
The Star Wars rework which I am currently watching is quite decent. 'Wizards of the Coast' took it upon themselves to redo some of the better movies from Earth. But contrary to the creators of the original, they are working hard on doing it right.
That means that 'Walt Disney' never got to say a word in the whole saga and most importantly... no Jar Jar Binks! I hate that abomination, but so far I have to say that they are doing a fine job in avoiding the plotholes of the original. The result is a dark and epic space opera.
Incidentally, WOTC also created the trading card game, 'Magic', and they are selling it on Earth, making a huge profit. The humans still like it for some reason. I really liked the online version of it, though they should have put more effort into it. The digital version was always lacking in regards to graphics.
If they rework all thirty movies of Star Wars without a drop in quality I'll become their fan. Though I hope that they have the decency to stop at episode six. Even a complete rewrite wouldn't be able to save episode seven.
My eyes wander left and right during a boring moment and I realize that I am the only person in the cinema. I am fifteen years old now, and I somehow resisted Nina's attempts to socialize me.
None of my family members had the time to accompany me to the movie. They don't even particularly like science fiction. One moment. Can I even count the stuff I am watching as science fiction? To other magicians, it must be like some kind of random, alternate reality shit.
Disheartened by my new insight I stand up and head for the exit. Somehow I've lost my interest in the movie. I wish I hadn't thought about this, but all I have to do is build myself a light saber and I will be a perfect Sith Lord. I can influence stuff by using gravity magic and my ongoing education has shown that I have an additional affinity for quite a few electro spells.
I head for the exit of the cinema and find myself on Aether's main pavilion. It's already evening and the sky is filled with stars.
The closest teleportation cubicle is just a short walk down the street and around the block through a passageway, so I start walking. The city is rather empty at this time of the day and so I don't face problems such as bumping into other people.
Thinking about my lifestyle, I have to admit that even my grandmother is worried about it, but she tries to keep her worries to herself. The only reason why I know about it is that she is often trying to introduce me to people.
I've to admit that some of them were really interesting to talk to. I even got a permanent connection to the electro-mage elder. His name is Sanguin and the old fellow knows admittedly more about physics than I do. Well, I am in the process of correcting that, and even my arcane studies are going well.
Walking down the narrow passageway I find my vision suddenly tilting sideways. Strange. I try to activate my ability, but it doesn't work. Something is definitely wrong. Where the nachos bad? Food poisoning? No, that wouldn't affect my magic.
There aren't any people whom I could ask for help. I try to contact my grandmother, but upon attempting to connect to the net several times, I finally have to accept that my ability isn't working right now.
“Is the gas working?” someone asks from behind me and I turn around, reaching for the wall to steady myself. For some strange reason my hand misses the wall and I drop to the ground while the world is spinning all around me.
Barely conscious I notice people coming towards me. Then a metal foot blocks my view and screams fill the night. The battle sprite which had been stalking me for years must've taken action. I close my eyes and the world spins away into darkness.
Something is forced down my throat and I open my eyes. A bearded man is trying to force feed me a vile tasting liquid. Retching, I spit everything I can into his face and he hits me in return.
If my vision wasn't so blurry I would kill him with a spell right now. My head feels light and I don't feel well.
Surveying my surroundings I find myself in a dark room with a table and four men playing cards. I am bound with a rope to a wooden chair and I stink like I was pulled through the sewers.
“That's enough, Gorey! The beer is already coming out of his mouth. There is no way that he can use his magic like that.” One of the men points at an empty seat and the bearded man joins them. “Yes, I just don't want him to tell on our position. The stupid sprite took out four of our men before we could deal with it. Once we meet our employer we should ask for additional money. He didn't say anything about a personal sprite as a guard.”
Ah, they force fed me with alcohol. Being intoxicated is a good way to stop a mage from casting spells. That's why most mages don't drink. So I was abducted? Are they trying to get me off of Aether? What did they do to Crono? Did they destroy the battle sprite? I don't particularly care for him, but losing my silent shadow feels strange. So many questions and no answers.
Something in my stomach twists and I barf its contents all over myself. I continue doing so until there is nothing coming up any more. After two minutes of retching I finally regain control over my body.
Somehow I feel strange. There are so many unknown sensations shaking my entire being. Is that what it means to be drunk? I heard that drinking also lifts certain mental barriers. That's why people like it so much. I am not entirely sure what to think about this.
My attackers don't take any notice of my situation. They seem to be used to this. I am going to kill them. I don't know how, but I'll do it. Preferably slowly. Those bastards attacked me without reason.
That's right. My wristwatch. It's a modified IM, I just have to activate it. That would be a sufficient distraction. And... and... what then? What else can I use as a weapon?
Maybe I am not too affected by the alcohol and can still cast spells? I heard that it depends on the individual. Closing my eyes I concentrate. Something is there, I can feel it.
My ability seems to work. I am not completely drunk. Apparently I woke up early enough that the alcohol hasn't entered my bloodstream in sufficient amounts. I slow down my perceived time and start thinking up a strategy while my eyes search the room for things which I can use to my advantage. After a while I feel confident to have found a possible battle strategy.
“Force!” The rope which is binding me to the chair snaps and I stand up. While doing so I grab the wooden chair and throw it at the men who are too stunned to react.
Once more I use force and apply all my power to the chair. The chair bursts into splinters and the fragments are sent at them like shrapnel.
Screams erupt from their side, but I already took off my wristwatch and threw it at the man with the least injuries. I gave only one command to it. Disassemble.
Then my IM disguised as a wristwatch impacts his chest and unfolds into a robot. It's a more sophisticated model and resembles a centipede. The IM wastes no time and digs into his flesh, which takes him out of the game. He screams like a pig and drops to the ground, trying to rip the construct out of himself, but to no avail.
The other offenders are writhing and crying while lying on the ground. My improvised shotgun worked better than I anticipated.
A bottle rolls towards me and I stop it with my foot. It's beer. Being in a slightly abnormal mental state, I bend down and open it to take a hearty draught. “Now, let's talk about who sent you.”
***Aether, The Floating City, above the Atlantic Ocean***
***Ed***
I edge closer to the room with the hostage and signal my men to stay back. Gideon was abducted just an hour ago by some freelancers. They also damaged Crono pretty heavily, which is why it took us some time to follow their tracks.
I hope that they didn't manage to get Gideon off of Aether yet. Reaching for my amulet, I step around the corner and scream, “Don't move! In the name of the elders, surrender now or-” What I find inside the room stuns me into silence.
There is a person on the ground who looks like he came out of a shredder. Another one is lying on a big, round table with burn marks all over his body. A third one looks like he was smashed into the ground by the fist of an angry god. Only the outlines of a gory mass and the bones hint at the fact that the remains were once a person.
A fourth is sitting on a chair beside the table. He looks like someone peeled off parts of his flesh until the blood loss killed him.
Gideon is standing in the middle of the room and looks like he didn't notice my entry. Suddenly he turns around and throws something at me. I manage to duck away just in time. The thrown bottle shatters harmlessly on the wall behind me.
I erect a barrier just in case, but my precaution turns out to be unnecessary. Gideon is the only person in the room who is standing, or swaying would be a better term.
“Ah, sowy. Its Ed. Dun schneak up o- on me lik thad.” Gideon raises a bottle to his mouth and takes a swig.
“Gideon, are you drunk?” I ask flabbergasted.
Gideon doesn't reply. Instead he turns around to the person who is pressed against the wall by an invisible force. “No. Where were we?”
The bearded man at the wall turns his head to me, his face distorted in a pained manner. I can tell that breathing alone takes all his power. “P- Please! S- Save me!”
Gideon somehow manages to bend down and pick up a big shard of glass. “Wong anser.” He throws the shard at the man in a lazy manner and it picks up speed, accelerating as it shot towards the wall. The shard embeds itself in the man's left thigh and he screams.
“Aw, shud up. I didnt efen hid whad I aimet fa!” Gideon bends down to pick up another shard, but he falls over and lies still. Moments later he is loudly snoring while lying between broken beer bottles.
***Aether, The Floating City, above the Atlantic Ocean***
***Gideon***
“Gideon, are you okay?” Nina asks me. “You look tired and sick. Are you sure that you should be at school? It's not that bad to take a day off once in a while. We can have our session at another time.”
Yeah, probably she is right. But I have to confirm something. Being interrogated by faceless isn't a happy experience. Luckily I managed to lie to them. For some reason I am able to trick their truth reading, though I am not completely sure why.
According to my story I was abducted and they made me drunk, then I blacked out and the next thing I know is that I wake up inside a detention centre of the faceless, my grandmother in tears at my side.
Though in reality I didn't black out. At least not completely. It seems that being drunk somehow caused me to fall into a strange emotional state. I enjoyed causing pain to my abductors while I interrogated them. Unfortunately my mental state caused me to overdo it and I wasted four of my five tries without getting any valuable information. There were also other emotions, for the lack of a better term. It was a disturbing experience. I think I'll distance myself from drinking alcohol in the future.
It was really lucky that the faceless believed my story and dropped any charges against me. First, I was drugged with sleeping gas and alcohol; second, it happened against my will; and third, I wasn't in complete possession of my mental and physical capabilities.
“Gideon?” Nina asks once more.
“Yes, I was just thinking. Did you know that someone tried to abduct me yesterday?” I ask the counsellor.
She tilts her head. “Oh, my. I didn't know. Are you okay?”
“Yes, but your minions aren't,” I answer, trying to force a reaction out of her.
“I think you may be affected by your traumatic experience. I'll call for help,” she says.
“Then I'll inform the authorities that you hacked the school's counsellor and are influencing it from outside Aether.” I drop the bomb on Nina.
Nina is the last clue which I have in regards to the Revelation Wing. First they tried to kill me and now they attempted to abduct me. It's clear that I have to do something about them. Going on the offensive is my only option, otherwise they'll try again and again until they get lucky.
Unfortunately the interrogation of my attackers didn't give me any valuable clues. My only chance is to roll the dice with the only other anomaly within my life, and that's Nina.
I checked her very soon after my counselling with her started. At first I didn't think much of it, but after a while her questions got a little bit too personal and I took a very close look at her.
Apparently, her code was rewritten by someone with at least my level of skill. The only thing I can tell is that her construct is controlled from outside the school.
I am reluctant to try and hack her since I am not entirely sure that I would get the whereabouts of her operator by doing so. Sometimes it's better to let a spy do her spying in order to feed her false information. Though I don't think that she is with the Revelation Wing. That leaves only a few other possibilities.
Nina flickers for a moment and then she drops her faked expression of concern. At the same time I notice an incoming connection from outside Aether. “Since when did you know?”
It seems like I've caused a reaction. The other party took direct control of the sprite. “A while,” I answer. “So what do you want from me?”
She purses her lips. “Nothing in particular, to be honest. I was just interested in your mental state.”
So it's another cold track. “You don't belong to the terrorists? That doesn't leave many other possibilities in regards to your identity.”
The avatar starts squirming. “If you could see your expression right now, Gideon. I am glad that we are not in the same room with each other.”
“I am tempted to try my abilities on you. Possibly, I might manage to lock you out of the school.” I look up at the ceiling where the camera is installed. “No, actually I am pretty sure that I can do at least that much.”
Nina stops her strange behaviour to look at me. “You're not even going to ask why?”
“It's of no consequence to me at this point in my life,” I answer.
She raises a hand and scratches her chin. “Hah, that's disturbing. You actually managed to cause me to feel something about this situation. Right now it's bugging me that you don't seem to care about me at all. Congratulations. I wouldn't have cared if you had wished to ask me the most important question.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and show her my most defiant expression. “It seems I inherited my mental state from you. I don't have to ask questions to gain the hints I need.”
Nina freezes for a moment and eyes me with interest. “I see. So why did you want to know the whereabouts of the Revelation Wing?”
“To kill them,” I answer. “Why do you even ask?”
Nina contemplates my answer for several moments, then she makes a decision. “Asteroid belt, grid 05-BZ-33-U5.”
I raise an eyebrow without saying a word.
“I won't tell you what's there. I'll only say that you should go prepared.” She pushes up her bust and smiles. “The outcome of this experiment might be interesting.”
I notice that the two way connection is terminated and Nina flickers once more, losing her smile and returning to her previous concerned expression. “I think you may be affected by your traumatic experience. I'll call for help.”
“That's not necessary. You are right and I feel very tired today. I'll go home and rest.” I turn around and leave without caring any further for the construct.
It turned out that the unknown party is more troublesome than I thought.
.