Godclads

Despite their legality, thinkeasys continue to be popular with street squires and high-end memory dealers across the city. With all the restrictions and intellectual property licenses laced into various phantasmics and memories, there had to be a place where people could go to think dangerous thoughts.

With a dozen or so old golems from some defunct corp, a few bottom-sphere Fallwalkers looking for imps or favors, and a decent cell of Necros lining the exterior with Incogs, the effort it takes to shut these establishments down far exceeds the returns.

Especially if they’re also fronts for the Deep Bazaar…

-Thinkeasys: The Seen But Hidden

12-1

Appeal

Avo could feel something nested within space itself.

Lightning flashed outside their aerovec, and the silhouettes of drones spilled down with the rain as legion, sinking past the darkness of the clouds around them like dagger-tips piercing skin. Something twitched around their geometries as they rushed through the dark. Something powerful. Something unseen. The outlines of the alloyed machines pulsed and swelled in patches of gooseflesh, their shapes deformed to a faraway gaze.

There was a Heaven clawing through the concept of darkness. There was an unseen hand bending metaphysics to force more abnormal emanations via circumspect canons.

+Good thing we went with her,+ Draus said. +Think I saw another detachment of Exorcists goin’ that way. Another knot of golems too–this one might’ve been led by a clad. Not sure. Things feel… Is this how it always is for you? Always feelin’ shit movin’ in reality? Domains?+

Her voice ebbed clear through wisp-thin tendrils cultured from the bloom of his canon. Sanguinity’s Reign made the confines of the vehicle analogous to a garden to him, while his ability to mimic the vivianite of a locus allowed him the manipulation of cognition via ghosts.

When the Nether flowed as normal, it would have been a blank page compared to the greater color. But sometimes, emptiness was potential, and substance was just clutter.

The uncanny sensations rushing through her mind post-apotheosis was a flavor to sample indeed. He saved the emotions and named it “nostalgia” storing it in his Ghostjack’s patterns. He offered her but a low grunt in the affirmative.

The Domain of Shadows was being compressed by an unseen actor. But they hadn’t fully unveiled themselves, and thus, the nucleus of the anomalies could not be detected. At least until some of Draus’ thoughtstuff bled over. From her came a vicarious tightness that clenched at her Frame, a Heaven brushing her with a symmetrical domain.

“I recommend that you hold off on using your current canon,” Denton said. Glaive. Operative for Ninth Column. A woman imbued with an inhuman pattern to her cognition. Valerie Denton was yet an enigma, but Avo found her uncannily agreeable thanks to her helpfulness and open disposition.

The fact she offered him one of her eyes was no small part of the near-unwilling affability he felt toward her.

He enjoyed the way her moist-sweet eye popped upon his tongue so.

“Making too much… noise?” He asked her.

“Your ontologies aren’t manifested, so they won’t see much,” Denton elaborated. “But there are a lot of eyes out there, and even with my aero-vehicle listed as an Ori-Thaum diplomatic vessel, the Nether’s down, and anything could go.” She released a subtle sigh. “It’s not easy to stop people from peeking.”

He suspected she knew what he was using his Sanguinity for. Channeling the nature of a locus through his broadcast granted him something of a localized Nether, but he hadn’t included her in the network. Nonetheless, she could have encountered another canon like it before. Or another Heaven that supplemented a Necrojack’s capabilities.

That being said if she knew that her aero’s locus was already compromised and under his control, she didn’t show it.

Reducing his presence even further, he merely projected up to the locus and took care to keep the haemokinetic mist curtailed. He swept away the motes of blood he stained his surrounding with and drew them back into himself. “Best I can do.”

She offered him a conciliatory nod. “I’ll take it. Right now, I think Ori-Thaum, Highflame, Stormtree, and the No-Dragons are scrambling assets. A few quiet wars might’ve kicked off with your… unfortunate ascent. Again, I have to apologize on behalf of Zein. We didn’t expect–”

“Why did you want me to be a ‘Clad?” Draus said, cutting into the conversation. “What’s the angle? Heard you hawkin’ me off to the Paladin too. I wanna talk about that first.”

Denton did not stiffen, though one of her fists clenched. “After this incident, Highflame will be hosting a series of Trials between the Chivalric and Meritocrat factions. The former is weakened politically, economically, and socially, but they still hold much of the Instrumentation–and therefore, a majority of usable Frames. We want you to break their last great houses and force them into a collapse.”

Avo let out a hiss of surprise. “Straight answer. Surprising.”

“I don’t like wasting time,” Denton replied. “Regardless, for the question of why you specifically? That’s because you have history with House Greatling and it makes for inner-Guild folklore to see you ascend. Why break the Chivalrics? Because after this–and the failure to cleanly implicate them in the plot on Ambassador Kitzuhada’s life, the projections estimate chances of open conflict between the factions at sixty-five percent, and the danger of the great game becoming unbalanced in favor of the Massists at seventy-two.”

The Regular snorted with disgust. “So. All about politics, ain’t it?”

“I’m afraid most things are, Captain Draus.”

“I ain’t been a captain since I got discharged,” Draus said. “Hells. I ain’t been much of anything since then.” A cloud of curiosity passed through her thoughts. “Tell me. These uh… projections of yours from Zein or whoever. They still have me as your pawn without him?” She jabbed one of her scythe wings at Avo as he glared.

“No,” Denton said, absent hesistation. “All indications show that you would likely perish fighting in the Warrens.”

Draus chuckled and shook her head. “Damn shame, isn’t it.” She cocked her head at Avo and frowned. “Thanks for keepin’ me alive, half-strand. No dead, anyway.”

He grunted again.

For a moment, Denton seemed as if she wanted to apologize to Draus for drawing her into this. Instead, she tapped at the air, and within the confines of his Sanguinity, he watched as the incomprehensible thoughtstuff comprising her outer mind turned into grains of static which were then funneled through a needle-thin injection point.

The locus fed warnings over into Avo’s cog-feed and he found a minor anomaly centered around the back of her skull.

Another tunnel of thought narrowed outward from her mind and this time it speared into the locus. Information flooded the aero’s systems, and though Avo couldn’t comprehend the mem-data he was seeing, he could still quell the ship’s processes before they began.

Denton was presently unassailable directly. But thoughts and information were only as safe as the weakest junction along their path.

Using his Sanguinity, he stripped mass from the aero’s chassis and constructed three sheets of blood. He held them in place over the cityscape and cast out to Draus.

+Draus. Going to create some reflective constructs from the side of the aero. Make us some exits. How’s Rend?+

Paltry miracles that they were, Denton didn’t seem to notice.

She acknowledged him by linking each sheet to one of the aero’s windows. +Managable. Twelve percent. You?+

+Woundshaper’s high. Galeslither’s still in play.+

+Synced. Essus. Attune the doors. Chambers, keep an eye out for any surprises.+

+You got it, Reg,+ Chambers replied.

The unspoken plan unfolded in an instant and without obvious hints. Three nanometer-thin sheets of solidified blood snapped free from the sides of the aero as Draus linked them to nearby windows, using a flash of lightning to disguise her bindings.

Immediately, they had a few ways out in case Denton had contacted someone or decided upon greater subterfuge.

Again, the static needle reached out from Denton. Again, Avo canceled the process before it could begin in the locus.

Denton frowned, casting her thoughts out time and time again. She turned to glare at the locus, and then finally noticed the tendrils of blood digging into it. Then, slowly, she turned to look at Avo, eyes narrowing. “Huh. Well, that’s a pretty neat trick. You work just like him, you know that?”

“Walton?” Avo said, guessing.

“Yeah,” Denton continued. “He figured out a way to jack into…” She leaned in closer. “I’m not trying hurt any of you, but I understand. You can keep the process canceled if you want–I just wanted to show you the general situation of the Sovereignty right now. For insight.”

“I would’ve taken insight directly from your mind,” Avo said. “Couldn’t.”

Neither relief nor pride passed through her expression. Instead, she managed a series of three rapid blinks before speaking. “If you could, you would have a very interesting mind for an organic.”

What a peculiar statement…

“You’ve seen the Flayed Ladder, right?” Denton asked.

Something inside Avo’s mind panged like a phantom limb. He knew what the Flayed Ladder was–had seen it–but he couldn’t quite recall what it looked like. Or even if it was actually real. Even the invocation of its name filled him with a sense of dream-like reverie.

“I think so,” Avo answered.

“Yeah, that sounds like what I said the first time too. Well. The Ninth Column can offer you more truth behind the past. About the Low Masters. The Hungers. The Guilds. The mission.” She held out an open palm as if trying to implore Avo on the basis of ethical virtue. The palm turned to a fist as she met his eye. “I know you don’t feel anything for the people living here, but the Guilds have failed. You must be able to see that. I… what do you want? What can we give you.”

The uncanniness of the situation surprised Avo. And appealed. When he first emerged from The Crucible, he was loathed, feared, and used as an instrument of another’s whims. After that, he bargained, deceived, and survived. And now, someone was asking him what he wanted. Genuinely. Truly. Like there was a bargain to be struck. Like he was more than just some monster–but the fullness of a person.

Or a Godclad, rather.

Essential to their needs.

“What do I want,” Avo said, releasing a slow breath. He looked up through the transparent shell of the vehicle and turned to stare at the pearlescent mountain that was the Tiers, which gleamed even through the clouds that tumbled from its precipices, which bled an endless onslaught of steel and flesh down to survey the aftermath of the chaos.

He thought of his experiences then. Of his deaths. Of Jhred Greatling, who presented himself as a being of impossible power but died as a shattered child. Of his sister, now a prisoner of the Paladins in flesh, and in sway to Avo in mind. Of Req, and Lucille, and Kae, and all the ones who couldn’t fight for themselves. And of the Low Masters and their Hungers, along with all their rank avarice and stupidity.

Finally, Avo thought of Walton. Walton, and then himself.

To ward against uncertainty, he borrowed an answer. It would be a good place to start.

“Want to see all the colors,” Avo said, still looking at the Tiers. “And want to taste all the flavors that are. That will be.” He regarded Denton again, her eye fixed on him, unblinking. “Up. That is where our enemies are. Yes?”

The ghost of a smirk passed through her. “Our enemies?”

“Will they surrender my Frame? Accept me into their world?”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid not, Avo. I’m afraid not.” She leaned in. “Can I show you all something? I need you to stop blocking the locus. If you feel like something’s wrong, you have the power to kill me or kill the transmission at any time. You know this. So, there’s no real danger to you.”

If there’s one thing to be said about Denton, it’s that she was skilled at making you feel at ease. Avo sought Draus’ approval, requiring a second instinct to be paired with his. The Regular gave him a cock of the head and briefly glanced at the windows.

Right. They had more than one implant under the skin.

Avo let the mem-data flow.

Holo-haptic interfaces splashed into shape around them from a collage of viewpoints. Spawned without sound, each scene played an angle of devastation and tragedy. Golems were sifting through a sea of rubble, some taking the form of water, spilling through the debris to ferry out the living, others lifting toppled megablocks using telekinetic fields.

More often than once, buildings were turned over and the remains of their inhabitants came out as a spill.

Essus moaned in horror and clutched his head. His mind screamed with trauma and strain. Avo offered to take the memories from him and spare him the pain.

“No,” Essus said. It took an immensity of will to pry his hands free from his face. “No. I will face this. I will face it. I cannot keep running. There is nowhere to–” His voice trailed off. From a viewpoint, a lone man pawed through rock and ash, digging until he found a small hand sticking out from beneath a fallen wall.

He looked under.

And hope betrayed.

They watched as the man broke, sinking down to his knees as he collapsed to sob against atop the ruins, a lone FATELESS survivor among machines and Guilders.

A low note of resigned despair whistled out from Essus. “Was this deliberate? Did you show this to me to wound?”

There was no lull in Denton’s response. “Yes..” She gesticulated at the images being played to them. “These images are from our field asset, ‘Sunrise.’ This place was Nu-Scarrowbur. Your flight through the district lasted approximately seven minutes and forty-nine seconds. Approximately sixty-eight percent of the district is in ruins. We… haven’t gotten a good estimate on all the dead yet, but we expect it to be substantial.”

“Shit that happens when ‘Clads fight,” Draus answered.

“Exactly, but also two problems. The first is that Stormtree’s seasonal economy will undoubtedly be affected by this. The spike in death is one thing, but the lack of surviving inhabitants means that–by the Treaty of Kosgan–the replacement rate for the population will drop in the future. Stormtree will likely sue to be compensated for forecasted losses against Highflame. And even before then, when the Thanatechs dig through the dead, they’ll find some with their Essence and ghosts already drained. Jhred Greatling too.”

That problem had always been in the back of Avo’s mind. He disregarded it for a time, but it seemed he couldn’t evade it forever. “So. They’ll know where I’ve been.”

“The ones who know about the Stillborn Frame, yes,” Denton said. She leaned in closer to Avo. “‘Our enemies’ will stop at nothing to get what’s grafted to you back. You said you want to kill them–eat them–it doesn’t matter. We’ll support you on this. We don’t want to control you–we want to enable you. To give you the means to make them hurt. And divert their attention while giving you room to operate.”

“But let me guess,” Draus said.”You’ll probably have things you want us to do. People you need snuffed. Minds you need nulled. Heavens you need stolen.”

“The future is variable in its demands, Higher Draus,” Denton said. “We’re just trying to make sure there keeps being a future.”

ATTENTION: 200 METERS TO THE EASY ARMISTICE

Directing his mind outside the aero’s sensors, Avo gazed outside and saw nothing but cluttered airspace and hints of hidden power scurrying over the skin of existence. Light twitched. Darkness warped. The winds didn’t flow right.

All the world was made up of Heavens. And every last Heaven belonged to an enemy.

How total was his opposition?

And just where were they going? “Don’t see anything? Where is The Easy Armistice.”

Denton injected another thought into the sky. Avo wondered if this was one of her canons, or if something else facilitate her transferrence of mem-data from so far away. Each time her thoughtstuff widened before fusing thin into a needle-point. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m just signaling for a shortcut.”

And then, at her command, the aero began to juke up and down in odd angles and directions.

Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Then, suddenly, it stalled to a hover, before Avo could respond, it accelerated again.

+Passage still open?+ Avo asked Draus, as he eyed his surroundings warily.

+Yeah,+ Draus said, frowning at what was happening.

Suddenly, the engine of the vehicle cut out.

Chambers blinked. “Was that part of the sign–”

He didn’t get to finish his question as they suddenly sank down into a spatial divot.