Spires

Then

Cal reached out with his telepathy. The interior of the liquor store was full of malice and hunger. He could detect six distinct presences, human-sized gremlins.

Just as they had discussed Cal, Ron and Rebekah were prone on the ground behind the dry cleaning shop, which was adjacent to the liquor store. When the bullets went flying it wasn’t a good idea to be standing directly behind the store.

Cal detected the presence of the bikers as they entered into his range. He reached out to them as well. Mingled aggression and fear were what he got from them. Not much different from what was waiting inside the liquor store. He had a stray thought, wondering if he and his companions were broadcasting something similar.

That was shoved aside by the sudden sounds of gunfire from inside the store.

Gremlins snarled and men shouted as stray shots pierced through the back wall. Like in any violent situation, time seemed to slow. It felt like minutes, but Cal knew that only seconds had passed when the guns fell silent and a visceral shout of exaltation burst out.

That was a good enough signal to move as any.

“Ready?” Cal whispered.

A grim-faced Rebekah nodded, while a pale Ron did the same.

Cal grabbed the back door in a firm telekinetic grip. He took a deep breath and pushed it forward with all his mental might. The act sent a stab of pain into his brain, but the door shot forward, slammed into a biker inside and knocked the man down.

Cal rushed inside, followed by the other two. All of them took cover behind some nearby shelves.

The stunned bikers recovered quickly enough and tried to bring their guns to bear. Cal used his telekinesis to pull them out of their hands and sent them clattering amid the scattered debris inside.

“Drop your weapons and get your hands up!” Ron pointed his glock at the men.

The three men, now bereft of their guns raised their hands, one was out cold on the ground, a victim of the flying door, of the two left, one had a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and one had a lead pipe. The latter complied with the order. The former did not.

The bearded biker spat out a curse and charged with his bat held high.

Ron’s hands shook and he failed to squeeze the trigger.

Rebekah’s were steady.

The shotgun barked. The small cloud of flying lead took the biker in the chest and dropped him to the floor, he moved weakly for a few more seconds before falling still.

Ron looked at Rebekah with shock, while she merely trained her shotgun on the rest of the equally stunned bikers.

“No one move,” Cal said. He moved around Rebekah, careful to keep from obstructing her view of the bikers. He went to Ron’s side and whispered. “See what you can do for that guy,” he nodded at the downed man.

Ron nodded shakily.

Cal took the handcuffs that Ron was carrying in a small bag. Under Rebekah’s watchful eyes, he restrained the remaining men, including the unconscious one, by cuffing them to each other. He divested them of their weapons and ammo, which he then handed over to Ron and Rebekah. They were ready to take care of the second part of the quest.

The interior of the warehouse was dimly lit by many scattered candles. No electricity in this area of the city from the looks of it.

The trio tried to move quietly along the darker edges of the building, along the walls. Shelves of consumer goods filled the space. At the opposite end were what looked to be offices.

Cal was too far away to get a sense of where the bikers and their quest goal were located, but since he wasn’t detecting anyone and the offices seemed a likely place to set up a base, then that’s where they went.

They took cover behind a pallet of paper towels to consider their approach.

They spied five men through the windows of a fairly well-lit break room. The men were playing cards at a table. Not too far away was a different room with a single, armed guard reading a book, while sitting next to the door. The entire area surrounding the office was lit by several lanterns.

The twenty feet or so of open space between the pallets they were concealed behind and their goal was going to make an undetected approach difficult.

“What’s your plan?” Ron looked worried.

“One second, just need to make sure our guy is in there,” Cal whispered back. He focused his telepathy on the guarded room. Sure enough he detected the presence of a single person within.

“It’s going to be tough to get the jump on these guys,” Rebekah said. “Maybe we can distract them. Draw them away, while one of us grabs the VIP.”

“No. I know them. They’re not dumb. They’ll keep guys on Del Campo. He’s the only one keeping them armed, without him they can’t fight the monsters,” Ron said.

“What about using the monsters?” Rebekah looked to Cal. “Wait till night when they come out. While these guys are fighting them, we use that as a distraction.”

Cal shook his head. “I’m pretty sure the place is clean, no monsters. Jay and his einjerhar must’ve cleared this place out.” He looked at Ron for confirmation.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t part of their inner circle,” Ron said.

“Hmm… Jay’s dead, so if he had ownership of this building, shouldn’t it revert to—” Cal had a thought.

“What are you talking about?” Rebekah hissed. “Focus on the mission. What’s the plan? You said you had it covered?”

It seemed that the ex-soldier had reached the limits of her patience.

“Yup, I have a plan,” Cal pointed at the lone guard next to closed door, “you two are going to subdue that one and then you will secure the quest goal… I mean, the Del Campo dude.” He raised his hand. “I will handle the rest.”

The wise have said that impatience is a killer in a fight. However, other equally wise men have said that aggression is what wins fights. Act and force your enemy to react. Impose your will. Dictate terms. So on and so forth. Truth be told Cal wanted to get this over with so he could get the answer to the interesting question that had just popped up.

“Go!”

Cal telekinetically threw the pile of paper towels from the pallet across the twenty feet at the lone guard. Rebekah and Ron rushed the man a second behind.

That part of the plan taken care of. Cal then did the same with the wooden pallet. This time he physically threw it like a discus, right into the break room window.

Shattered shards of glass and the hunk of wood surprised the five men playing cards. Cal jumped into the room a few beats later. The bikers had no chance. Cal laid them out in a matter of seconds. He was too strong and too fast for a normal human.

The chore done with he turned his attention to the warehouse itself. Deliberately he focused on the building and the idea of ownership. As the seconds ticked away he concentrated harder.

“Show me who owns this warehouse,” Cal said quietly.

At last a voice spoke in his ears at the same time that text appeared floating in his vision. It gave details about the warehouse. Its name, size, location, current occupants and a long list of contents.

Cal focused further and very clearly pictured the information that he was seeking. The spires had answered his query.

Owner deceased.

Will revert to unowned status in: 11:13:45:56

“We’ve got him.” Ron’s voice drew Cal’s attention. “Is everything okay?”

Cal merely nodded.

“What’s next?” Rebekah’s joined Ron.

Cal looked Del Campo over. The man looked to be in his fifties. He had weathered brown skin and black hair gone mostly gray. He looked scared. “Mr. Del Campo, I assure you nothing bad will happen to you. The city council will give you their pitch, but I want to stress that you aren’t obligated to agree to anything.” He noticed that both Ron and Rebekah stiffened. “Do what you feel is in your best interests. I’ll check-in with you later to make sure things are alright. I’m not big on slavery or indentured servitude. I’m sure you’re aware of your value at this point. Don’t forget that in your negotiations.”

The man nodded hesitantly.

“Ron, Rebekah, take him back to base. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What are you going to do to them?” Rebekah frowned. “My quest says I have to eliminate the enemy.”

“It’s one thing to kill in a battle, but I agree with Ron. There’ll be no summary executions while I’m around.”

Rebekah looked like she was about to argue, but Cal cut her off.

“I also agree that these men have proved themselves to be nothing more than human filth. Incapable of being anything more than dangerous assholes.” Cal fixed his gaze on the downed men, who were no looking up at him with wide eyes. “They’re going for a walk on the 80… without their guns.”

Cal didn’t say it, but that was as good as killing them. The dark look on Ron’s face said as much. There was a long expanse of sparsely populated land east of the city for many miles. No one knew what sort of monsters lurked out in those spaces. He forced himself to keep the hard look on his face.

Rebekah nodded approvingly. “Good enough for me.”

It wasn’t an easy thing to make a choice to stain your hands with blood. For the first time since the apocalypse began Cal was now going to be directly responsible for fellow humans’ deaths.

Now

The flying transport was enormous and surprisingly quiet. Cal loved the Threnosh’s anti-gravity technology. A vehicle as huge as one of those military C-130’s, yet all he heard and felt was a soft humming sound.

It was a special request that Tides had taken care of for Cal. Everyone on the team, except for Primal, would’ve been fine to take the flying van. The smallest Threnosh also had the largest power armor and it needed a transport with a lot more space and lift.

There was only one problem. The transport had a busy schedule and while it had time to take them to the spire. It didn’t have time to take them back to base. Cal figured they’d deal with that when the time came. The mission, quest, or task, depending on one’s perspective, took precedence.

Besides, it was only a little over 25 miles away. They could always walk back. Might be a good chance to do some random monster killing on the way or even stumble into a random encounter or two.

The team was armored up and standing around a holographic projection. It was a live shot of the spire. Around it were seven large monsters that appeared to be asleep.

“We’re minutes away. Give me the rundown,” Cal said.

Caretaker gave him a brisk nod. “There are seven invasive organisms, designation number 11563.”

Cal cleared his throat.

“Henceforth classified as dragonbears…”

“I already explained this,” Cal said.

“Yes!” Kynnro said brightly. “Creatures from your world. One fictional and one real.” They looked intently at Cal. “How can your world have creatures that do not exist?”

“I’ll explain later.”

“The dragonbears,” Caretaker said flatly, “are predatory organisms. Their primary offensive abilities are enormous physical strength combined with sharp teeth and claws. Despite their enormous size they moved quickly. Defensively, they rely on scales with the strength of metal plating combined with coarse, thick fur. Their bone and muscle structures are particularly robust.”

“They totally look like dragons mixed with bears. I’ll get you guys pictures and videos once I get back to my world,” Cal said.

“How can there be videos and pictures of a creature that you state does not exist?” Frequency looked at Cal with confusion.

“Well, there’re drawings and CGI,” Cal said.

“You still have not spoken of our plan of attack, Honor.” Primal’s voice carried a clear challenge.

“I’m going to leave that to you guys.”

“May I?” Caretaker pointed to the projection. When Cal nodded the Threnosh manipulated the image until it zoomed out to an overhead view of the area surrounding the spire. “We will set a defensive position on this hill.” They centered on an area that was roughly 6000 feet away from the monsters. “It is well within the range of Primal’s bow. Additionally it is an elevated position. The organisms will be forced to approach us at a disadvantage. The plan is simple. Primal will commence fire with his bow. The first shot will eliminate one organism. At this point the remainder will attack. Each of us will fire our weapons as they reach optimum range. Any organisms that survive to reach close quarters combat will be tanked,” they glanced at Cal, “by Primal, so that Shira can dispatch it. Kynnro will deploy their laser cloud if a clear opening presents itself. Any questions?”

There were none and before they knew it the transport landed a short distance away from the site.

“Remember, this is all you,” Cal said. “I’ll only lend a hand in the worst case scenario.”

“That will not be necessary,” Primal said.

“I concur,” Caretaker said. “Get into position.”

Cal moved back a short distance away. Behind his team. Far enough to be out of the way, but close enough to help out, just in case. He didn’t want his presence to impact the upcoming fight in any way. Whether it changed how the dragonbears behaved or the potential impact on the amount of points the Threnosh would gain.

“Ready?” Caretaker received the affirmative from the others. “Fire at your determination, Primal.”

“Acknowledged.”

Primal drew back on his massive bow and loosed the javelin-like metal arrow. The loud boom shook the quiet morning air.

Thousands of feet distant a pack of resting dragonbears sprang to alertness in a split second. For one of their number it was already too late. The monster’s body exploded, showering the area in blood and gore.

The rest of the pack located the Threnosh immediately. They roared and charged.

Another arrow boomed across the grass-covered ground and another monster fell, its head gone.

The monsters spread out and started running in haphazard patterns.

The third arrow missed and tore a long furrow in the ground.

“Damn, they’re fast,” Cal said. The readout in his helmet showed the dragonbears topping out at nearly 80 mph.

Primal kept sending arrow after arrow, but didn’t find the same success.

When the monsters crossed the halfway point to their position Primal’s quiver was empty.

Caretaker stepped up to line up abreast with Primal. Kynnro and Frequency, newly armed with standard recoilless rifles, followed.

“Primal, heavy weapons on my mark.” Caretaker hefted the gimbal-mounted minigun in their hands. Their power armor had been modified with an exoskeleton frame to help carry the added weight of the heavy weapon and the backpack of ammunition. This way they could pack a bigger punch, at least while the ammunition lasted.

Primal had the same minigun mounted on their left shoulder, while a weapon closely resembling a fragmentation grenade launcher was mounted on his right shoulder. This gave him offensive capabilities for midrange combat.

“Fire,” Caretaker said flatly as the monsters entered their range.

The Threnosh trained his fire on a single monster. It tried to take evasive action, but Caretaker’s predictive algorithm guided them to where it was going to be. The monster had thick skin and armor-like scales, but eventually it succumbed to the impossibly accurate fire.

Caretaker noted the ammunition indicator projected in his face-plate. Half empty just to down one organism.

Unlike the tall Threnosh, Primal’s minigun sprayed a wall of projectiles across the monsters’ path. Of the four remaining, none managed to avoid taking hits.

Caretaker took aim at the closest one and emptied the rest of his ammunition into it until it collapsed. “Kynnro, Frequency, open fire.” They said as they uncoupled their power armor from the minigun exoskeleton frame. It would only slow them down at this point. They took up their own recoilless rifle and added to the fusillade.

The less powerful projectiles weren’t having the same effect. The organisms kept coming. “Primal, fragmentation weapon.” Caretaker dropped back off the front line. “Frequency with me. Kynnro, ready your laser cloud. Shira, to the front.”

The grenade launcher on Primal’s shoulder let out a rapid series of THOOMS. The explosions impacted all around the charging monsters, but didn’t do much to slow them down.

Caretaker focused on the closest one. Saw where it was going to be in four seconds. They sent the coordinates to Kynnro along with a countdown.

Right on cue, Kynnro shot out a small, silvery cylinder from the barrel-like opening on the back of their gauntlet. It exploded into a cloud of reflective particles that the monster ran headlong into. At the same instant, a pencil-thin red beam lanced out from the small emitter on their helmet.

The stench of burnt flesh was accompanied by a howl of pain. The monster emerged on fire and thrashed around wildly.

From his vantage point a short distance away Cal could see that the dragonbear’s eyes were charred ruins, weeping bloody messes.

A concentrated burst from Primal’s minigun put the monster out of its misery.

Three remained.

Two went straight for the biggest target.

Primal lashed out with a massive metal fist. The dragonbear was too quick. It leapt up and used the arm as a platform to reach the minigun. Sparks flew as its claws scraped against thick armor. The metal barrels squealed and bent under the immense pressure of the monster’s jaws.

The second monster was slowed by a massive wound on one of its hind legs. Primal bashed it into the ground.

While its two pack members were going after the most obvious target. The last dragonbear sought more vulnerable prey.

Foam flecked from its dagger-toothed maw. Driven mad by the scent of its own blood, which leaked from dozens of small wounds, it charged heedless of the long spear Shira held in their hands.

The Threnosh only had a day and a half to practice with the unfamiliar weapon. They had to rely on ancient records dating back millennia when their barbaric ancestors waged war in the dirt with crude weapons of wood and iron. Cal shared what he had learned in recent years, but even he would admit that his knowledge was amateurish at best.

With a thousand plus pound monster charging right at them, Shira could be forgiven if her stance was wrong and her grip was just a little off.

Instead of plunging into the armor-less space beneath the dragonbear’s jaw the spear blade skidded off the tough scales on its broad chest.

Cal watched all of the action intently. He was on the verge of stepping in to help Shira. He slowed his perceptions.

The spear blade deflected up and across the dragonbear’s neck. It cut past the thick fur and into the muscle. It was a superficial wound. The large amount of blood that splashed across Shinra’s black power armor was deceptive.

The monster crashed into Shinra an instant later.

It clamped its jaws over the Threnosh’s arm and thrashed its head from side to side.

Cal decided to keep watching. In the slowed down view he got a good look at Shira’s eyes through the clear lenses on their face-plate. There was no fear, only something akin to the hunger that was visible in the dragonbears.

As Cal let his perception return to normal speed, Shira raised their free hand and plunged bladed fingers into the monster’s eye. They didn’t stop until their arm was all the way in, almost up to their shoulder.

The monster twitched and let go of its grip on Shira’s other arm, relaxing as death claimed it.

Shira’s power armored arm was a ruin of crushed metal.

Cal watched as the power armor somehow drank up the blood from the dragonbear. The damaged arm slowly repaired itself right before his eyes. The monster seemed to deflate as its lifeblood was drained.

The effect on Shira was the opposite. The Threnosh seemed to stand taller, stronger. The matte black color of their armor somehow deepened as if it was drawing in the daylight and snuffing it out.

Once all that remained of the dragonbear was a dessicated corpse. Shira moved.

They were almost a blur to Cal’s unenhanced vision. They were a black shadow that streaked against the morning light.

The shadow tore into the dragonbear that was hanging off of Primal’s back and tearing the mounted weapons to scraps.

Shira and the monster rolled together like a pair of crazed cats. They bit and clawed at one another with no regard given to defense.

Cal couldn’t believe his eyes but the mouth and teeth in Shira’s helmet worked as if they were organic. The Threnosh bit down on the unarmored area near a joint on one of its forelegs.

He saw now why the power armor had so many sharp blades and protrusions all over its surface. Every move Shira made drew blood. Every move the monster made did the same. One couldn’t attack the Threnosh physically without cutting oneself.

The pair tore into each other equally, yet only one was able to repair the damage. Shira grew stronger, while the monster grew weaker.

It didn’t take long for the last dragonbear to join the rest of its pack in death.

In Cal’s eyes the spire’s surface was a dull, matte gray, then a shiny silver, then a shimmering rainbow. One by one and all at the same time. It was either amazing or deeply wrong to look at. Even after several years, he still wasn’t entirely sure which one it was for him.

Cal had to adjust his power rankings. He had Primal up top for sheer physical might and destructive capabilities. Shira now occupied that spot, rather a Shira that had blood in them. In their power armor that is. Although looking at the energized Shira and the hungry look on their face now that the scary-looking face-plate was retracted, he wasn’t so sure about that assessment. He was tempted to take a peek into their mind, but decided to hold off until he knew more about how the power armor functioned. The risk of discovery was too great. A betrayal of trust at such an early stage would be very bad for the plan.

“Alright people. Time for the after action report.” Cal clapped his hands together and smiled. “But first, did everyone get the quest completion notice?”

All the Threnosh gave an affirmative.

“Honor, I would ask for your assessment first,” Caretaker said.

Cal pursed his lips. “Hmm… sure. First, Primal,” he turned to the Threnosh, who had refused to open his power armor’s chest even after the end of combat, “your bow is devastating and you’re aim is good. However, again you discarded it in melee. Why?”

“My weapon is from the god hair… spire. It cannot be repaired by Threnosh hands if it is damaged. Furthermore, it is worth approximately three years of Universal Points,” Primal said.

“I see, well don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure it’s made out of some kind of super science-y metal that is practically indestructible. Plus, you’re going to be making a lot more points from now on,” Cal said. “Overall you fought well. You fulfilled both roles as a damage dealer and as front line tank. Despite the loss of your external weapons, which can be replaced, you were able to occupy two dragonbears.”

There was a long pause before Primal finally spoke. “I will take this into consideration.”

“Fair enough. Next is Shira. Very impressive. You fight to your strengths.”

Shira responded with an uncharacterisc grin. One, which Cal didn’t fail to notice, was rather toothy.

“Your weakness is that you need blood to reach your full potential. I have many questions concerning this. Can you do this with all kinds of blood? Does it need to be fresh? Can you store some for later use? How long does the boost last?”

“It must be fresh. I believe it to be minutes after it is taken. If I take in a large enough quantity it will last for under an hour, depending on how much I draw on it,” Shira said.

Cal nodded. “Caretaker, I don’t have much to say for you. Your predictive algorithm makes your shooting extremely accurate. Part of me thinks you’d be great in melee, however your power armor is lacking. The exo-frame,” he smiled and thought of how much his youngest brother, Eron, would geek out over everything in this world, “is an improvement on your offensive potential. The amount of ammo you can carry is an obvious limiting factor.”

“I concur with you assessment,” Caretaker said.

“Kynnro,” Cal said to the Threnosh in sleek form-fitting power armor, “your laser cloud attack is great! I’m not just saying that cause it got me. My main concern is that it’s a fairly short range weapon, while your power armor is lacking in defensive capabilities. “Last, but not least, Frequency. This was a battle that you weren’t really going to have the opportunity to shine. All I can say is that you followed orders well, scored some hits with your rifle and kept out of the way when you couldn’t have impacted the fight. Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas on how you can weaponize sound waves. Just need to get PC3 to put me in contact with some of their the smart, scientist types.”

“My assessment falls within the same parameters,” Caretaker said.

“Good,” Cal said. “So, now you guys get to go into the spire. Remember to look for upgrades that address the main issues that we discussed. I’ve also sent the same assessments to your PID’s, so you can refer to them as needed. I also recommend purchasing tutorials for your power armors, at least at the basic level.”

“How are we to do that with our limited points?”

“Didn’t you get a bunch for the dragonbears?”

“1000,” Primal said.

“500,” Caretaker said.

“I also received 1000,” Shira said.

“250.” Kynnro’s face was downcast.

“100,” Frequency mumbled.

“Right, well I was about to say that I got the Prime to give me some points from the general fund. I’ll have to make the transfer in the spire.”

“How many points?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Cal grinned, “does 2000 each sound good?”

“Impossible!” Primal’s already high-pitched voice rose up another level. “My bow cost that much.”

“Well, now you can get a spare or a dedicated melee weapon. C’mon let’s go,” Cal said as he strode into the spire’s impossible surface and disappeared.

The interior was just as creepy and strange as always. Indistinct mist surrounded Cal. He had the impression of rooms and hallways as he walked through it. He focused on the need to transfer the Universal Points to the team and sure enough he suddenly realized that he was in the right place to do so.

“Select recipient to begin transfer.” The voice of the spire came from everywhere and nowhere.

For a moment Cal considered sending some of the points to Nila. He discarded that notion just as quickly. He was going to need every point Prime Custodian 3 had handed over as their project grew. Need before greed, as the saying went

“Huh? I don’t think I’m using that one right.”

“Please repeat transfer request.”

One by one Cal firmly pictured the Threnosh and spoke their name along with the amount of points he wanted to send their way.

The spire showed him an image of each recipient and the points they were to receive.

“Confirm transfer.”

“Yes.”

“Transfer complete. Thank you and have a pleasant struggle.”

“Fuck you too.” Cal frowned. That was a new one.

With that done Cal thought about the messaging system. Nothing, just like always. He had only sent the one message to Nila. The cost was exorbitant and he wasn’t going to have the points to do it until he was able to run Encounter Challenges and Spawn Points seriously. Guiding the newbie Threnosh gave him nothing. The only Quests he had active were the same ones. The one to make allies with the Threnosh and the one about the Dominion wanting to get to know him better, that is, hunt him down.

The spires’ system for doling out quests was maddening. He didn’t get any when it looked obvious and he got them when he was least expecting them. The worst part of it was that the surprising ones were the most terrible ones. The Dominion, the Midtown Mauler. Both quests he stumbled upon almost accidentally. The latter was an experience he actively and with great effort didn’t think about. It remained to be seen how the former was going to turn out, but he wasn’t particularly optimistic.

The pessimist in him went to all of the dark places when he saw that he had no messages. Did something bad happen to Nila and his family? Or was it too much for her? She was against him coming here in the first place. Almost a year apart now. Was it too much?

“Idiot,” Cal said.

The simplest explanation was that the cost was too much for anyone on Earth to send him a message. It was also just as likely that the spire didn’t allow messaging from downworlds to upworlds.

“Hmm…” he had a thought. “I’d like to send a message,” he said.

“State the recipient.”

“The Dominion of Immortal Light and Joy.”

“Invalid request.”

Cal only knew one person, if it could be called that from the upworld to the Threnosh. “Zalthyss.”

“Begin message.”

“I kicked your ass and I’m going to do it again,” Cal said. “End message.”

“Confirm message complete.”

“Uh… actually, how much is this going to cost?”

Cal’s eyes widened when the number appeared in his vision and hearing, independently and at the same time.

“How much would the same message cost to Prime Custodian 3.”

The number was considerably lower.

“Well, that’s interesting. Cancel message.”

It seemed to confirm his guess about downworld versus upworld costs. What was interesting was that even though Zalthyss was currently imprisoned deep in a Threnosh facility, more heavily guarded than the one he had spent several months building a rapport with his captors, the spire treated the angelic alien as still being upworld at least in its messaging system.

“Same world messaging costs are reasonable. Going down or up is a lot more expensive,” Cal mused. “But Zalthyss is here… then why is the spire pricing it as if it was upworld?”

Cal mumbled a curse. Something else to add to his list.

With a thought he stepped out of the spire and was greeted by a rather hesitant chime in his helmet.

“Just stepped out of the spire, go ahead,” Cal said.

“Designation: Honor,” Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623’s voice sounded slightly aggrieved or worried, Cal wasn’t sure. “I have been trying to contact you for the last twenty minutes.”

“Wow, I was in there that long? Didn’t feel like it. So, what’s got you all bothered?”

“I am notifying you that I have secured another transport to take you and your team back. They are scheduled to arrive at your position in one hour.”

“Oh good. An hour wait isn’t bad. We were going to walk and that would’ve taken the rest of the day, baring random monster encounters. Although to be honest that’d be a good way to get them more points.”

“I am also notifying you that long range scanners have detected two hostile invasive organisms heading to your position.” Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 actually sounded a little frustrated.

“Oh…” Cal sighed. “Details?”

“The organisms are the ones that you designated as dragonbears,”

“Did you roll your eyes? It sounded like you did.”

“Most definitely not. Data indicates that these two are of the alpha type.”

“ETA?”

“You should have visual in three minutes, twenty-nine seconds.”

“Okay, well I guess I can keep the monsters busy while I wait for the team. Although alphas might be a bit too much, especially if the team isn’t ready for them.” Cal made up his mind in an instant. “Loaming, when the team emerges let them know I’ll be right back and tell them to wait.”

Cal leapt into the air and took off in the direction of the two dragonbears. He wondered if the Threnosh would be cool with a head or two mounted back at the facility. It might be a good reminder for his current and future team members of their purpose.