Vol. 5 Chap. 69 Desireable Man

Vol. 5 Chap. 69 Desireable Man

There was a long silence, as both sides tried to determine if the other was bluffing. In a situation where any tear in their suits might be fatal, talking things out was definitely the better choice. Of course, there was only one “Secondary Anomaly,” which meant that somebody’s boss was going to be pissed.

I wonder if they are literally attacking each other within the government yet. Seems like bad timing, what with a major war on. Also, somebody needs to shoot whoever designed their armor. If it can’t hold up against a freaking crossbow bolt or beastcrafted lizards, it’s not armor. Call it a survival suit or something, but not armor. My old spell armor could take a needler to the faceplate without chipping the paint, let alone denting.

The Secondary Anomaly once known as Truth Medici only listened with half an ear. He was discovering that just because you had suppressed and cultivated away the most energetic fragments of the cosmic energy, that didn’t mean you got all of it. There were minute traces left in the tissue, bone, even in the blood. And those minute traces were subtly weakening and sickening whatever they touched. He would never have noticed if he hadn’t been so utterly devoted to his body cultivation. The horror of missing such a tiny thing, leaving such a devastating hidden wound in his body, made his guts clench.

Just what the Hell is this stuff? Cosmic rays, sure, and I always knew that cultivating in the daytime was a bit more intense than at night, but this seems crazy. Everyone would die if this was normal. Was it because I was literally too close to the sun? Punishment from the Rough Patron or some other aspect of the sun?

“I don’t suppose you have your badge with you?”

“Did you bring your Army ID?”

He could imagine the look they were exchanging.

“I can’t help but notice that my top secret, state of the art armor looks uncannily like yours.” The voice from the Army said.

“I was about to ask where you got your armor from. Given that mine comes from an Above Top Secret code-name controlled R&D program.”

Truth wasn’t ready to risk rolling his eyes just yet, but he really, really wanted to.

“Message our superiors? Or walk out together?” This from the Internal Security agent. Understandable that he would want to compromise, Truth felt, what with the Army getting the drop on him.

“I am not sure how the brass would react to a joint venture with Internal Security. I will report. You might as well grab a seat because you aren’t going anywhere for a while.”

“I think we’ll stand, thanks.”

Truth wouldn’t have sat down either. Apparently the Army wasn’t ready to push the point, because it went quiet again. Truth used the time as best he could, trying to clear out as much of the high energy stuff as he could. Had to stop the urgent problem before getting to the hidden danger. Hidden danger wouldn’t matter if, picking an example at random from many, many, similar examples, his heart valves burned into a corroded mess of cancerous flesh while still inside his chest.

It’s times like this that make you appreciate the little things. Like blinking. I mean, I could probably blink. Seventy percent sure I could blink. Seventy percent on at least one eye being able to blink one time. I’m just worried something might be destroyed in the process.

There was a murmur, and some quiet clinking noises. Truth wasn’t sure what that was about.

“Good news!” The voice was from the Army guy. His announcement was met, seconds later, by a number of loud hissing noises, some whistling noises, and a series of meaty thunk’s. Truth was dropped on the ground. Luckily there was no Hellfire Corrosive liquid or whatever it was called in here with him. It was a weak bluff, under the circumstances.

“The good news is that reinforcements arrived.” The Army guy’s voice was urbane. “Alright, don’t even bother cleaning up. Just grab the package and hoof it to Extraction. These guys had some beastcrafted lizards around, so keep an eye out.”

“Mark Three Thunidz?”

“Can’t say I keep up on what IS is buying for warbeasts these days.” The deceptive urbanity of the voice was starting to get a little eerie. Truth felt his bag get picked up. “Get moving.”

“Sir? What kind of opposition is waiting outside the dead zone?”

System?

System?

There was no reply.

Truth was torn- he really couldn’t spare the attention to examine his soul, but he also desperately wanted to see what happened. He dithered back and forth, and decided to risk a quick glance. He shouldn’t have bothered- it was too short a moment to see anything, and the second he let up on the energy, it bolted out of his control again. Swearing, he painstakingly fought back to a stable place. If he could keep it going for long enough, he would process all the energy. It would just take time.

There was a sudden jostle. A heavy thud echoed through the wagon. “Praeger! Was that an iron ball or something?”

“Looks like some kind of mass launcher fetish. Squad C... got ‘em! They might be able to recover whatever it is.”

“Damn. One damn thing after another is what it is. Who throws a rock? Or chunk of iron or whatever?”

“I mean... it’s basically a huge needler, right? Just worse. At everything.”

“Exactly. Why build something that does something... OH SHIT! Contact the escort, tell them to examine the impact on the side of the wagon!”

“Shit. SHIT!”

There was a loud pause, something shouted out a window that Truth couldn’t make out.

“The wagon’s tagged! Some kind of potion, we don’t know what it does. We are changing to Plan C. Head for the underground garage.”

The wagon rushed and jostled through the streets. Truth idly wondered what happened to all the other traffic. This was Harban. There wasn’t a rush-hour, exactly, just periods when the traffic jam was slightly more runny.

“Grab the package. Move MOVE! We are gone in thirty seconds.

Truth felt his bag get roughly picked up and hauled around. There were tire squeals all around. Decoys? Probably. He was roughly tossed somewhere, then there was a loud slamming noise.

Did these fuckers just shove me in the trunk? I have seen and done legendary things, and I wind up in a body bag in the trunk of a carriage in an underground garage. I’d say I’d come full circle in life, but, just speaking my truth here, this would have been a fancy death back in the day. And I couldn’t afford fancy.

The carriage also peeled out, based on the sound and sudden smell of tire smoke. A few seconds later, he was hit with a new smell- sewage. They must have found, or made, a dry tunnel to use. The scope of this was already huge, yet somehow he felt like he had underestimated it. Somehow.

The carriage came to a halt. He was carried up what felt like a few flight of steps, through some doors, and then he was hit with the unmistakable smell of a hospital. A door opened, there was a rasping noise, and his bag was placed on a table. The table slid, and the door shut behind him.

Truth would have laughed himself sick, if his toes were not each reporting a unique sensation, one that added texture and variety to the commonly used word “agony.”

It was a nice, quiet, cool place. One that was well shielded from cosmic rays, he noticed. Perfect. He would take the time to heal. However long that was. Because sooner or later they would want to do an autopsy.Alll latest novels at novelhall.com