Spires

2.2



Now

Cal sat in his office and perused several files. Holographic projection technology was just so great. The inner nerd couldn’t stop squealing with joy as he manipulated the virtual pages with deft swipes of his fingers. A sudden thought interrupted his studies and his gaze drifted over to his left hand, which was resting on his thigh.

“All this super technology and they don’t have cybernetics.” He let out a sigh.

As Prime Custodian 3 had explained it the Threnosh simply didn’t have need of such technology. They relied on drones to do all of the dangerous sorts of things that risked life and limb. At least until the spires appeared and their technology became unreliable for a time. Ten years since their apocalypse began and they were just getting back to their pre-spires level. The darker implication, only hinted at, was that any Threnosh that, like Cal, lost some digits, was taken care of in a rather permanent fashion.

Cal wasn’t one to put down a culture based on differences to his own beliefs, but in this case he was left disgusted. At least now that their very planet was at risk the Threnosh were being forced to value each individual a bit more. After all, they needed everyone to obtain things from the spires for the good of all.

The door beeped and interrupted Cal’s musings.

“Enter.”

“Designation: Honor, I must speak with you.”

“Ah, hey Tides! Settling in?”

“Yes, I am ready to begin my duties… assisting.” The word looked like it tasted bad in Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337’s mouth.

“Great! So, what can I do for you?”

“I have received your notification on the names for the Def—”

Cal arched a brow.

“For the special candidates and I am obligated to inform you that they are not to be named in accordance to law.”

If Cal wasn’t mistaken the interrogator was almost fidgeting. Now that he had spent more time around various Threnosh, Cal saw that Tides’ power armor was clearly a civilian model, for lack of a better description. It lacked the obvious armor plating on the warrior-types. There were no obvious weapons. It was like Tides was an accountant in a suit in contrast to Caretaker, whose image called to mind that of a soldier on the battlefield.

“They need names. It’s impossible to interact with them, let alone fight alongside them otherwise.”

“Then assign them numbers.”

“Nope.” Cal shook his head. “If the plan is going to work, they need to start thinking of themselves as valuable individuals. Not as detritus to be cast off. You’ve read the plans?”

“Correct.”

“Okay, then what’s the problem with the names.”

“The Collective—”

“Has already agreed that everything here is under my control.”

“Designation: Honor, I must correct you on that assertion. Ultimate control is in Prime Custodian 3’s purview.”

“And what’d he say?”

“I have not brought this matter to their attention. The prime has graver concerns at this time,” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 said. “I bring this matter to your attention because I surmised that you were unaware of the breach on Threnosh law that you are committing.”

“Thanks for looking out, but I think we’re in the clear on this one since we are strictly working within the approved plan,” Cal said. “Now that you’re here I’ve got something I could use some help with.”

“The Prime commanded me to attend you,” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 said flatly.

“Aw, man, don’t be like that, Tides. I want us to work together. Remember we’re trying to save both our worlds.”

“I have reminded myself of that fact thirteen times.”

Cal’s eyes widened. “Huh… is that total or just today?” He shook his head. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Anyways, I was looking up some information on Orchestral Meridian,” he frowned, “I swear this automatic translation system… stupid spires,” he muttered. “Anyways, I’m not getting much. I don’t know if it’s my access level or I just don’t know how to search your databases. I was wondering if you could possibly get me more?”

The Threnosh sucked in a breath and went deathly still. The seconds ticked away without them exhaling.

“Uh… are you alright? Is it something I said?” Cal probed the Threnosh’s thoughts. It was the city’s name. They were trying very hard to avoid even thinking about it.

“That is something not spoken of. However, the prime’s command was to aid you in all that you required. My clearance level was increased in order to perform this task.” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 inclined their head. “I will do as you ask.”

“Thanks again. I’ll send the details to your PID. Oh, and one other thing. Do you know if Loaming’s arrived yet?”

“Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 will report to you immediately upon arrival.”

“Cool, got something for them to do also. We’ve got a difficult road ahead of us, Tides.”

“Your statement is difficult to understand, but accurate.”

“Huh?”

“Your species’ use of indirect language is inefficient and confusing.”

Cal thought about that for a moment. “Yup, sounds about right.”

Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 was out of their comfort zone. As soon as they had arrived to the facility they had immediately reported to Designation: Honor. He had just as quickly given them a task, correction a Task.

From the first time since they had gone into the god hair to obtain their trueskin they had been granted an actual Task. To do as Designation: Honor requested, successfully, meant that they would receive a considerable amount of Universal Points. Tasks weren’t given out for simply carrying out one’s duties. No, as a rule they were only for those things that provided a true challenge.

The Threnosh had nearly collapsed to their knees at the shock of the Task shouted into their auditory canals, while the text floated in their vision at the same time. It was only thanks to their trueskin’s automatic stabilization feature that they didn’t disgrace themselves in front of Prime Custodian 3’s chosen subordinate.

Now all they had to do was coordinate with Fabricator Riverport 11725 and Engineer Verdant Mechanica 3581 along with the defectives to add weaponry, defensive measures and ‘anything else they might want’, as Designation: Honor had instructed.

The thought of interacting with the defectives, sent an involuntary shudder through their body. It was going to be difficult, but they were determined to perform the Task to the best of their ability. They wanted those points. More importantly the prime had shown great trust in assigning them to this duty and they would not fail.

The interrogator arrived at the trueskin bay much sooner than they had hoped. The large chamber had room enough for twenty-five berths in which the trueskins would be maintained. Only five of the spaces were currently occupied.

They found the fabricator and the engineer in a discussion with the grotesquely tall defective. Just looking at them made the interrogator grimace. They took a few seconds to compose themselves and to bring up information on the PID installed into the arm of their trueskin.

“Caretaker, that one chose their own designation.” Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 tried to bury the revulsion they felt at the mere thought of it.

Remember the Task, they thought.

Thus fortified they approached the trio.

“Honor instructed me to seek you out to improve the offensive capability of my power armor.” Caretaker tested out unfamiliar words.

“Yes, however as I have said your trueskin lacks the requisite strength for the instillation of heavy armaments,” Engineer Verdant Mechanica 3581 said.

“Esteemed engineer, Designation: Honor suggested that an exoskeleton may be modified and attached to the trueskin. I have already performed the simulations, shall I send you the results?”

“That will be unnecessary, fabricator. I will perform the simulations myself before proceeding.”

“Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623,” Fabricator Riverport 11725 said when they noticed the interrogator’s approach.

“Do you have a task for us, interrogator?” Engineer Verdant Mechanica 3581 said.

The interrogator kept their eyes on the two normal Threnosh. They could not bring themselves to crane their head back to look Caretaker in the eyes as was custom. Such a slight movement, yet it felt like anathema just to consider it.

“Designation: Honor has instructed me to supervise and facilitate the process of upgrading the def— their trueskins.”

“Very well, we shall do as we are tasked. Fabricator, commence installing the heavy weaponry to P… Primal’s trueskin. I will proceed with fitting an exoskeleton to Caretaker’s trueskin.”

“Right away, esteemed engineer.”

“Yes, continue to carry out your duties,” Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 said. They didn’t know what else to do so they simply stood and observed the fabricator use drones to install said heavy weaponry on the shoulders of the massive trueskin.

Their eyes moved to the other defectives. It took a great deal of control to keep their face expressionless. They were all so different from a proper Threnosh. In addition to the tall one, there was one that was a full head shorter, one with protrusions around their ear holes, and one even had five fingers. The latter said something to the other defective next to them and the interrogator thought they saw something. Horrified and curious in equal measure they pushed a button on the side of their helmet and zoomed in closer. They instantly regretted the act. The five-fingered defective’s canine teeth appeared to be slightly pointed.

The interrogator contemplated turning around, leaving the facility and never returning. The loud chime that greeted them dashed the thought from their mind.

Somehow, against their own expectations, the voice and text informed them that the Task was successfully completed and they were 100 Universal Points richer.

“There are a lot of things that have been written and said about what constitutes the optimum adventuring party.”

“Designation: Honor, what is an adventuring party?”

“Err… it’s just another term for the team we’re putting together, Caretaker.” Cal took a moment to check his handwritten notes before turning back to the holographic projection.

It had taken way too much explaining and diagramming for Cal to get his idea for a classroom across to Mechanica and Riverport. They didn’t show it, but Cal knew that they were equal parts confused and frustrated with the concept. Good thing he was patient.

Now here he was teaching a class. His students were five Threnosh in their exoskeletons, seated at shiny metal desks customized to their individual proportions. They watched intently as Cal stood next to the large projection that served as the equivalent to a powerpoint presentation, except a lot cooler.

He waved his hand and the hologram changed to display the four most basic roles in a balanced party, except he had attached images of the five Threnosh in their power armors to represent them.

“A fighter, cleric, wizard and rogue.” Cal held up his hand. “I know some of those words probably don’t make sense to you, but I shall explain. Generally speaking, you want your party to be able to deal damage, take damage and heal damage. I don’t think the last one applies too much in your case. I guess it’d be more of a repair damage. Though, Shira, I know that your power armor has the ability to self-repair.”

“Yes, I do,” Shira said.

“Right, so as I was saying. A fighter is someone that is on the front lines, doing damage to the monsters, while at the same time keeping their focus on them rather the more vulnerable members of the party… er… team. I like to call that ‘drawing aggro’.” Cal cleared his throat. “A wizard is capable of dealing high amounts of damage at a cost of being unable to take it in return. A rogue is responsible for scouting and generally being difficult to target, with the potential to do a large amount of damage in the right situation. Finally, a cleric is mostly responsible for the healing.”

Cal took in the mixed looks of confusion and skepticism on the Threnosh faces.

“Now, I’d like to ask you where you think you each fit within this framework. Who wants to go first?”

“It is as you stated. Your paradigm does not fit our capabilities,” Primal said. “I am the most impervious to damage, yet my most powerful weapon is effective at a distance. What role do you expect me to fulfill?”

“Well, Primal, I know your prime kept you operating in outdoor environments with plenty of space to utilize your bow. However, that’s not going to always be the case with our team. There will be plenty of times you’ll be in places where space will be restricted. What will you do then?”

“I will fight as effectively as I am able.”

“Exactly,” Cal nodded. “Like I said these are just basic guidelines. It’s a positive for us that all of you can perform multiple roles.”

“I am optimized to do damage from a distance,” Caretaker said. “My combat algorithm, as you called it, allows me to fight monsters on the front lines. If the enemy is engage with me then they are not attacking the more vulnerable members of the team, which I believe fulfills your criteria for drawing aggro.”

“Good, you’re getting the idea.” Cal pointed at Frequency. “You next.”

The Threnosh looked down at their PID for a moment before replying in their garbled voice. Although, Cal was finding it easier to understand than the first day. Either Frequency was improving or he was adapting to them.

“I am uncertain in regards to my offensive capabilities. I can hide the sounds of myself and perhaps a few others. Primal’s trueskin may be too large to hide. I cannot know until I try,” Frequency said.

“No worries, I know that sound waves can be weaponized. We’ll work on that going forward.”

“I am best suited as a front line fighter,” Shira said firmly.

“Right, but if you think about it you can also do some of the rogue stuff. Once you’ve got some blood you can move very fast, your power armor’s black color means you’re difficult to spot in the dark, like shadows and stuff. It seems to me that you’d make a pretty decent scout,” Cal said. “Picture this. You sneak around to the back of the enemy line and bam!” He suddenly clapped his hands. None of the Threnosh reacted. He sighed. “And then you slice and dice and get all the blood you need,” he said flatly. “Last, but not least. Kynnro.”

“I can deal damage and I do not believe I can take damage… I am a wizard?” Kynnro said hesitantly.

“Yeah, basically,” Cal said. “Alright, so I’m going to go a little bit more in depth with each role. I want you to think about what you can do or what you would need to perform the role better and if possible, fulfill multiple roles. Remember, we have no idea what the spires might provide in terms of upgrades to your power armors. Now that you will be gaining Universal Points they will be another resource. Possibly the most important.”

“When will we visit the spire?” Kynnro said the word without the hesitation of the other Threnosh.

“Good question. Did you all get the points for that upgrading quest… er… task?”

“Yes. We completed it the previous day,” Caretaker said.

The rest of the Threnosh nodded their heads.

Cal grinned. More and more this group of Threnosh reminded him of being around other human beings. From the way some of them appeared to adopt a few of his mannerisms and word choices. Perhaps they were finding a kindred spirit of sorts in him. Being isolated and ostracized for a quirk of your birth was never right.

“Perfect. There’s a spire not too far away and I received a report this morning about a group of monsters that decided to plop themselves nearby. We can test out your new equipment, get some points and get you into the spire. See if you can purchase some tutorials for your power armors and maybe even some new gear. As they say, we can kill a bunch of birds with one stone.”

“Who states that?” Caretaker looked perplexed.

“I don’t know, some guy.”

Orchestral Meridian.

The words, the name drew her from her slumber. Although, could it truly be called that when she heard everything within the span of many, many miles around her? Neither walls, nor distance mattered. The discordant words invaded the perfect harmony of her sphere. She longed to spread it out further so that such chaos could be turned into the melody that suffused her very being.

It was what she did to the place that was hers now. She had turned millions of voices into one. A symphony that ebbed and flowed at her tender ministrations.

Orchestral Meridian. She heard the words for the first time in years, since a scant handful of gray ones escaped her melodies and the ones beyond her reach barred the way to keep her from drawing others in.

Orchestral Meridian. A new voice, a different voice. Not like the gray ones, the weak ones, so easy to turn to her song. This one would be important. Perhaps the perfect key to finally help her share her song with the rest of the world.

Orchestral Meridian. Deep in the center something stirred and with her millions of agonized voices took up the song and wailed for what they had lost and what they had gained.

Their dormancy was drawing to an end.

The joy was heart-rending.

Then

The music blared from the garage and Cal’s enhanced hearing picked it up from inside his brother’s kitchen. It was light and pop-y, something about going to the beach and hanging out with the boys. Very 1990’s, he couldn’t quite name the pop star who sang it, but he was fine with that.

Oddly enough when he went into the garage the volume wasn’t painful or overwhelming, just loud. Perhaps his new found heightened hearing came with an automatic safety feature. The thought of how that would work biologically made his head hurt, so he just chalked it up to spires science-magic, or was that magic-science.

“You have that look on your face,” Nila grunted as she was in the middle of doing weighted pull-ups with three plates hanging from the chain around her waist.

“Huh?”

“Either you’re constipated or you’re thinking about the spires.”

“I don’t look like that,” Cal said.

“Yeah, you do.” Nila stepped down to the ground and switched to chin-ups.

“Why this music?”

“Don’t like it?” Nila laughed. “It was the best option out of what I found.”

“I guess we overlooked that. I’ll add quality music to the list of things we need to loot… err… save for future generations. Totally sucks when you get used toYoutubeand Spotify for your music needs.”

“At least I’ve got podcasts saved on my phone,” Nila said. “Going to be sad day when I finally catch up to the stuff I haven’t gotten around to.”

Cal sniffed and crinkled his nose. “God, that smells terrible.”

“You can smell that? All the way in here? I can’t. I thought Remy did a good job sealing the side door.” Nila was referring to the diesel generator in the backyard that provided them a more reliable source of power than the spotty at best electricity power grid “At least you don’t get nose issues anymore.”

“Small miracles in an otherwise mostly terrible situation. Speaking of which, that enhanced physiology class is really improving your body.” Cal realized his mistake almost immediately. “I mean you’re looking really fit, strong.”

Nila finished her set and dropped to the floor. Apparently the 135 pounds of weights around her waist wasn’t that difficult to carry. She narrowed her eyes at Cal. “What’re you trying to say? That my body wasn’t?”

“Er… well yeah, cause you weren’t all spire-empowered,” Cal shrugged. “No big deal, it’s the same for the rest of us.”

“Uh huh,” Nila said flatly.

“Yeah, so, I’ve got to go. That thing I told you about yesterday. They got a lead, so me and a couple of other guys are going to follow up on it. Remy and Megan are out killing mutant animals and monsters. Eron’s checking out the school. Tessa and Veronica are in the living room. I told them to shout and come running if anything happens.” The words flowed quickly out of Cal’s mouth.

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, bye love.” Cal leaned in for a kiss, but Nila turned her head at the last moment to take it on the cheek. “I’m off to unknown dangers for the sake of everyone.” He said gravely.

“Uh huh.”

The bike ride to the community center took about five minutes. Cal spotted a few mutant rodents and birds, but they did nothing. If he didn’t take any aggressive action toward them all they did was warily watch him. No sense in robbing other people of the points and practice when all he’d get was a fraction of a point and an ax that needed cleaning.

The community center was awash with activity. After the incident at MLK High School the makeshift city council had turned it into a base of operations. Armed volunteers of a nascent neighborhood watch-like group greeted him warmly and ushered him into the building. He was expected.

“Hey, Ron, haven’t seen you since…” Cal hesitated, “well… how’s your sister?”

The young police officer had been forcibly recruited in Jay’s takeover of the department and subsequent imprisonment of civilians plan at the high school. In the course of events, Cal freed him in exchange for information on the rogue cops and bikers that made up Jay’s group.

“She’s good. They set up a daycare here, so she’s safe while I try to help out,” Ron said.

“Good to hear,” Cal said. “So, you’ve got some information for me?”

“Yeah, we found them holed up in a warehouse at the eastern edge of the city. There’s a liquor store nearby and I think that’s where they must be getting their supplies. Specialist Court has eyes on them.”

“Okay, we should get over there then.”

“Who else will be going, sir?”

Cal raised a brow. “Man, you’re making feel old with that ‘sir’ stuff. ‘Cal’ is fine. Just you and me.”

Ron frowned. “But, the last word from Court said they had twelve men and since they probably still have Del Campo then they’ve got ammunition, while we are running low.”

“Don’t worry,” Cal said.

“So, it’s true,” Ron said in awe, “that you’re bulletproof.”

“Eh, not exactly,” Cal shrugged. “You’re thinking of my brother.”

Ron knocked on the back door of an office building on the opposite side of the street from both the warehouse complex and small, corner shopping center. A few restaurants, a Starbucks, a dry cleaning place and the aforementioned liquor store, it was a pretty standard layout.

It took what felt like a long time for the door’s lock to open. As Ron slowly pushed it open he was greeted by the barrel of a shotgun, which just as quickly moved down and to the side.

“Finally.”

The gruff voice belonged to a woman, who looked to be anywhere between twenty and forty. Her blond hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. The deep tan on her face showed that she had been spending a lot of time outdoors. In addition to the shotgun, the same one Cal remembered assigning to her on the night a few weeks ago when they had escaped the high school, she was clad in a camouflaged tactical vest with the word Police across the chest. A ballistic helmet in the same color scheme was hanging by its strap from her belt.

“Hi, my name is Cal. We haven’t officially met.” He stuck his hand out.

“Specialist Rebekah Court.” Her grip was firm. “Army, well formerly. Been out five years now. Did eight years total, four on reserve. You can call me Rebekah or Court, doesn’t matter much to me.”

“Combat?”

“Yeah, one tour.”

“Great… I mean that experience will come in handy here and moving forward,” Cal said. “So, what’s the situation?”

“Minimum twelve hostiles, bikers, by their attire. No eyes on the VIP, but they’ve been shooting at any animals and monsters that pop up, so that means they aren’t trying to conserve ammo. Between 1200 and 1300 they hit the shopping center, mostly the liquor store for supplies.”

“Numbers?”

“They rotate six. Half with guns, half with melee weapons.”

“So, Rebekah, what’s the plan?”

Rebekah and Ron exchanged a glance.

“I thought that’s what you’re here for,” Rebekah said. “People said you had some weird magic powers from those things that popped out of the ground.”

“Something like that, but I’m wondering what the council wants done with those guys,” Cal said.

“They didn’t say,” Ron said. “The goal was to get Del Campo out of their hands.”

“And into the council’s?” Cal frowned.

“He gets the same offer everyone else got. Food and protection for whatever he can contribute,” Rebekah said through narrowed eyes.

“Fair enough,” Cal said. “So, what are we going to do about the bikers?”

“Kill them,” Rebekah said flatly.

“Hold on!” Ron raised his voice. “We can’t do that. We can’t just arbitrarily execute people without a trial.”

“We can’t keep them imprisoned. They’ve already shown that they’re dangerous.” Rebekah stabbed a finger at Ron. “You weren’t in the camp. You didn’t see and hear what they did to some of those women. Being there, not knowing how long the color of your skin would keep you untouched. The guilt when you felt relieved that it was someone else and not you.” Her voice grew heated. “If we just let them go they’ll just do the same somewhere else, to other innocent people.”

Cal’s heart sank. His telepathy was giving him a sense of the emotions coming from Rebekah and Ron. Neither was going to back down. There was no way around it. He was going to have to make the choice. He had power, more than almost everyone else, aside from his siblings. Did that mean he was responsible? He was wise enough to realize that was a thorny path. For him and potentially for everyone else.

“You’re both right. We can’t let them off, but we can’t just execute them.”

Rebekah glared at Cal. “They’ve made themselves enemy combatants. As far as I’m concerned they’re clean targets.”

Cal raised his hand to forestall Ron’s counter. “Look, let’s table this discussion for now. We still actually have to proceed with this… operation, I guess that’s what this is called.”

“I got it as a Quest,” Ron said. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Me too. Free Tomas Del Campo and eliminate the enemy,” Rebekah said.

Ron’s eyes grew big. “What? I only got the free Tomas Del Campo part.”

“Well, that’s weird. So, why don’t we go over the plan?”

“I figured you’d be the principle on this, since you’ve got those powers,” Rebekah shrugged. “I’m okay following along.”

“Um… me too,” Ron added.

“Right, first let’s take stock of what we’ve got. I have my camping ax and I see that you,” Cal nodded at Rebekah, “have the shotgun.”

“Only 4 rounds left.”

“Ron?”

“Glock 17 and I’ve got 8 rounds.”

“Any other weapons?”

“I’ve got my ASP.” Ron patted the collapsible, metal baton holstered in his belt.

“Knife and machete,” Rebekah said.

“Alright, we’ll hit half of them after they clear the liquor store. Let them use up some of their ammo. Since they use their guns, then that means you can use yours without the rest back at the warehouse getting suspicious.” Cal turned to Ron. “It’s not against the law if you kill them while in a mutual fight, right?”

“Technically, that’s correct, but I thought you could just magic them or something.” Ron didn’t look pleased.

“Maybe, except I feel like you have to be prepared,” Cal said. “Isn’t that what they train you to do as a police officer anyways. Assume your life is always in danger and shoot first.”

Ron frowned. “That’s not how it is at all.”

“Seems that way from the news,” Rebekah said.

“That’s just media bias, they only focus on when things go wrong.”

“Point is, Ron, your life is going to be in danger when we engage these assholes,” Cal said.

“This is war and we’re in a battlefield,” Rebekah said.

“Okay, that might be going too far in the other direction,” Cal sighed. “Anyways once we neutralize the first group, we move on the warehouse. I’ve got some tricks I want to try.”

“We can’t let anything happen to Del Campo. He’s our only shot at getting more ammunition,” Rebekah said.

“Speaking of tricks,” Cal grinned. “You both have quests, which means you’ve both been to the spire. What classes did you get?”

Neither seemed willing to speak at first. Cal sensed something guarded, a wariness in both, one mixed with skepticism. It gave the picture of a wall their thoughts were struggling to get over.

“Soldier: Infantry and a skill, Basic Marksmanship: Rifle,” Rebekah said.

“Police Officer, Basic Marksmanship: Semi-automatic Pistol,” Ron said.

“Interesting, so there are also passive skills and your jobs got turned into your classes. Well, good to know, but not immediately useful,” Cal said. “The plan is pretty straight-forward, just follow my lead.”


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