Vol. 3. Chap. 110 Turning Up The Pressure

Vol. 3. Chap. 110 Turning Up The Pressure

Truth woke, having slept poorly. He had opted for a vacant office in a mostly empty office building. It looked like the previous tenants hadnt even cleaned out the place when they left. All the office furniture was there. All the old files. Strange that the landlord hadnt disposed of it either. Maybe it was tied up in a lawsuit or something. He poked around a little before bed. It seemed to have been a travel agency.

He slept in the fanciest office. It wasnt the least bit more comfortable, but he liked to think he was maintaining standards. Everything was just too much at the moment. He would enjoy what humor he could find.

Truth could feel a good bit of moping coming on. He slapped his hands against his cheeks instead. No moping! Today will be a busy, but good, day. Today, we start applying pressure directly to the System Astrologica. A positive, can-do attitude is required!

He dusted himself off, packed his things, and set off back to the University. This time, he resolved to use his time a little more productively. There was a burglary target in the University, so it seemed foolish not to maximize his time. He would burgle, murder, then investigate a Starbrite office before raiding it. A full day.

The burglary target, according to Merkovahs information, was in the Thomas and Martha Walton Center for Excellence in High Energy Thaumaturgy. Truth was a bit stuck when he saw it. How, exactly, does one describe sheer architectural violence?

It started, naturally, with concrete. A sort of white, or maybe gray actually, it was hard to say if the color was intended, or the result of pollution and rain. It was the exact shade of depression. Windows, naturally, failed to be the same size or even on the same horizontal plane, tilting and morphing as they meandered across the walls. The overall shape of the building was somewhere between a stepped pyramid and the result of someone taking snuff made of colored tobacco, and sneezing onto a startled octopus.

There was a large plaque next to the door. Apparently, the building had won several awards. Truth memorized the names of the awarding bodies, swearing to find them if time permitted.

Mercifully, there was a building directory. His target was the Dr. Franklin Gaspard Memorial Laboratory, overseen by a Dr. Shihamratalmaranpi. His goal was to steal Every memory crystal and recording talisman you can get your hands on. He was also to expect everything to be in locked cabinets, likely quite well secured cabinets, and since the whole building was doing work of significant interest to governments and militaries everywhere, he should expect a non-trivial amount of security. Also, the Doctor himself was likely at least Level Four, and most of his staff would be Level Two or Three. So, unwise to screw around.

Truth figured that was fair enough, so he adopted a disguise. His clothes screamed Im coming back from a workout so he leaned into it. He splashed water on his face, wetted down his hair, and tried to look tired. He was now a grad student coming back from a workout to start work. It didnt take. He could force it, of course. But it would cost him a lot of energy.

He frowned, then grinned. He was a grad student whose parents bought him his place. He was just here to get his evaluation signed by his professor, then it was straight back to the club. That clicked no problem. Truth felt very sorry for himself for exactly two seconds and then went to find the lab.

The door was more or less how the information packet described it- heavily locked, and heavily surveilled by recording talismans. Truth used a cunning ruse to bypass them. He knocked on the door.

Nobody answered. He knocked again.

There continued to be silence.

He knocked loudly and continuously, slightly varying his timing, trying to avoid patterns. He kept it up for five minutes. Eventually, an utterly frazzled and completely genuine grad student yanked the door open.

WHAT?

Sup. Your ears working, brah?

The door started to slam closed, but Truth caught it and held it open. No can do, brah, got to get my thingy signed.

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Prof. S needs to sign my thingy so I can show the admin guy what a great lab assistant I am. You know. The thingy. Truth waved a paper around.

Doctor Shihamratalmaranpi-

No idea how you can pronounce that, brah. Im out by ham.

He didnt know why, exactly. It just seemed like the most important thing in the world to confirm that she was alive and well. That she was, in fact, thriving. That even at the end of days, she was following her dreams. That she was getting everything out of education that Truth had dreamed for her. But most of all, that she was okay. That even without her big bro hovering around, she was okay.

He made his way to Cuinoirds laboratory. It too was festooned with security measures, uselessly so, because the door had been propped open with a chair. The reason quickly became obvious, as it banged open and a young woman rushed out. She was passed by a young man rushing in. Two minutes later, he was out again, and a third person, another woman, was rushing in.

I dont give a damn, not one damn! My patrons demand results, and you whine about funds? You tell them that Cuinoird demands his order this instant, and if they want their fee, they can wait their turn. And if they dont give it to you, I expect you to leap over the counter and beat them until they cough it up!

Professor, thats-

Your job, or you may see yourself out and go whistle for any sort of reference!

There was a long silence. Yes, Professor.

There was another flurry of activity.

Imbeciles. The most obvious things in the world need to be explained, yet they expect to be coddled like geniuses. Truth had never met Professor Cuinoird before, and he already didnt like him. Still, when god-complexes open a door

He walked in. There was an intense, charismatic man, if a bit whiffy, bent over a naked woman. Truth didnt recognize the woman. There was a light projection above her, showing a tiny collection of dividing cells. This was apparently the subject of immense interest to the Professor. Truth didnt know which of the hangers-on was Doctor Shihamratalmaranpi, but it didnt really matter. He didnt see Sophia either, which mattered a great deal more. Maybe she was one of the runners.

Excuse me, Professor? I heard you needed some things collected by someone willing to use violence to obtain them?

What slanderous- The Professor spun around, clocked Truths physique, and slammed to a halt. Young man, how well do you know your genealogy?

I know my father and mother, and my siblings. Truth shrugged.

Would you like an exciting opportunity to participate in a research study?

Probably not.

I would pay considerably more for your assistance than I would for package collection.

Truth hesitated. Sophia worked in this laboratory. It could be a way to see her.

Lets say Im open to it. But I wouldnt want to pull you away from the business at hand. He nodded at the naked woman. She appeared to be awake, but didnt appear aware of anything going on around her. Odd.

Mmm. First sensible thing I have heard in an hour that I didnt say. Have a seat somewhere. Truth hopped up on a lab table and watched the work. He didnt understand a single blessed thing that was happening. He did notice Sophia coming out of a little room off to one side of the lab. A few minutes later, a rather harried young man brought around mugs of coffee for the already tenured.

Truth felt Incisive tingling. He frowned, focusing on that feeling more. Usually he only got a bare seconds worth of notice of danger. Unless it was quite a big danger.

One of the coffee drinkers spat out their drink, spraying the naked woman. What the hell is in this coffee?!

Truth turned towards Sophia. She looked surprised. No, she looked surprised. He got his feet under him and leapt towards her. The blast caught him before he even got clear of the table.