Scion

Chapter 8

DUSK IS BLEEDING THE COLOUR from the world as I creep through the brush, cognitive revs primed.

It’s been more than an hour since I scaled the EMP ring’s outer wall, and so far, Old Woman’s claims about her biosecurity have proven at least somewhat justified.

I’ve already spotted several of the owls—“Heds,” as she calls them—lurking high in the branches, probably only moments before they spotted me.

Had to lie motionless for minutes on end as others of the winged monstrosities swept the area, and twice was forced to silently clamber up a tree, sore leg reminding me of the stupidity of this endeavour, when my revs picked up noise in the distant undergrowth.

The first time, whatever it was didn’t come my way.

The second, a panther the size of a damned horse eventually prowled into view directly beneath me. Black as night. Silent. Fangs my head could fit between bared as it stalked along, catlike eyes swinging side to side. It had definitely heard something.

I stayed… very still. Despite Old Woman’s assurances, it did not look like it knew this was just a test.

But the suit I printed this morning did its job.

A mixture of black silicon and samarium nickel oxide to render me invisible to the snakes, along with any other monsters out here using infrared.

An activated carbon layer underneath to lock in my scent.

My protests about being inadequately equipped were silenced once Old Woman showed me her setup.

Her printer’s industrial, at least as good as the Keres’.

And for something this simple, I didn’t even need Q-net to download the specs.

“So tell me about your revisions.”

I flinch at the too-loud voice wittering cheerfully in my ear.

Scowl into the gathering gloom. “Already told you. Trying to concentrate here.” I keep my own words barely above the sound of a breath.

Old Woman’s initiated a rolling shutdown of the EMP ring as I move through it, just so she can keep an eye on my progress.

A shifting kilometre-wide circle that allows for tracking and comms. Not necessary, and definitely not smart, even if there’s no feasible way an impromptu test like this could be exploited. But she insisted.

I didn’t like it at the time. I’ve hated it since I started.

“Oh, come now. You’ve been out there an hour.

Don’t tell me you haven’t already made your judgements.

” Her lecturing is fuzzed by the bone conduction, but it at least means it won’t be audible to anything that wants to eat me.

And the throat mic means I don’t have to do more than breathe what I’m saying.

It’s still damned distracting. “If you’re going to be protecting me, dear, I want to understand what you’re capable of.

And you did agree to answer my questions. So step me through them.”

Man, I miss Atti. I really miss Atti.

“There are two main types. Cognitive and somatic. The somatics do pretty much what you would expect them to. The ones in my legs mean I can run longer and faster, jump higher. The ones in my upper body mean I can lift more, punch harder. They all have the effect of increasing dermal and bone density, too, when they’re active. ”

“So you’re bulletproof?”

“No. Hell no. But I can take a lot more punishment than most people.” I start fording a small stream, moving with fastidious care through fast-running water that reaches my thighs.

No splashes. Keeping my revs sharp for anything in the surrounding trees.

Not a lot of water nearby, and even bios need to drink.

“Huh.” Old Woman sounds intrigued, albeit not necessarily impressed. “And your cognitive revisions?”

“Clearer thoughts. Shorter reaction times. Heightened perception. Pain management. That sort of thing.” I don’t mention the rest. As a rule, people don’t mind “really advanced human.” They understand “really advanced human.” But damn if they don’t get uncomfortable when you start throwing around concepts like being able to sense movement in a memorised location, no matter how far away you are.

Or precognition, or retrocognition, or any of the other less…

traditional instincts my cogs sometimes impart.

“Wow.” I think she’s impressed until she adds, “That bomb must have been all but invisible.”

“You can’t activate revs all at once. They take focus to use, and even one takes a toll after a while. I have to be judicious. Choose the exact right time to bring them into play.”

“Like when there might be a bomb?”

I reach the far bank, scanning the deepening shadows beyond as I extract myself from the chilly torrent. No movement.

“So tell me. What happens when whoever wants me dead sends three people just like you?”

“There’s no one just like me.” I mutter it back as an irritated reflex.

Immediately regret it. Continue reluctantly as I carefully push my way through tangled undergrowth.

“Most people aren’t compatible with even one rev.

And when they are, it usually takes years of training before they get it under control.

” Feels weird to be explaining this, but I get defensive when it comes to my revs.

Prideful, I suppose. Not because I can have so many—that’s a fluke of nature.

But because they genuinely make me better than anyone else out there.

Better than any other person in my line of work.

I want this annoying old bat to understand that I am at the absolute pinnacle of what I do.

“How long have you had yours?”

“Six years, give or take.”

“So you had them at Oceanus.”

Heart beating too fast. Blood hot. Lip curling. I stop, silent and still. Too distracted to continue in this state. Is Old Woman deliberately goading me? I swear she’s been trying to find a button to push since I got here.

If she keeps going, she’s going to find out pretty damned quickly that this isn’t the right one.

“Azure? Are you there?”

I push her irritating voice to the back of my mind. Calm. Run a quick gamut of rev checks to ensure my surroundings are still clear. All seems normal.

Except.

I close my eyes.

“Azuuuure,” Old Woman croons.

“Shut up.” Check. Check again. No mistake.

She tsks at me. The absolute nerve. “Now now, Azure, no need to be—”

“Someone’s coming. You need to get out.”

“What?”

“They just went through the intake for the fish tank. Aquarium. Whatever.” I carefully modulate my voice.

Impart seriousness. Calmness. Urgency. Tone is more important in getting across a message than words, sometimes.

“Don’t ask how I know. Someone is in your house right now and if you don’t run, they will kill you.

So you need to listen to what I’m about to say very carefully. ”

Silence and then, much to my relief, a quiet “Alright.”

“They’ll be cautious—won’t know you’re unprotected in there.

If they’ve got enough air, they’ll probably pick a spot they can watch through the glass for a while without being seen.

If not, they’ll be starting a slow sweep from the hatch.

That’s the other side of the house to where you are.

You’ve got seven, maybe eight minutes. Plenty of time as long as you don’t panic. ”

“So I should run?” I can hear the scrape of a chair through the comms.

“Wait. I said don’t panic. We need to be calm and methodical here. You just need to OH YOU HAVE GOT TO BE—!”

I snarl and dive just before the swooping Hed’s talons rip the back half of my skull off.

Too focused on verifying the disturbance in my cognitive rev, not nearly focused enough on everything else.

Sure, the monster came from directly behind me, gliding silently and from out of the gathering darkness, but still.

It’s the size of a freaking volo. If I was paying even a small amount of attention, my revs would have caught something. It’s the Argos all over again.

“Tell me you’re not choosing this moment to develop a sense of humour. Or wait. Is this whole thing a joke? Azure, if you’re messing—”

“Not… a joke.” I gasp out the words furiously as I fling myself to the side again, narrowly avoiding the grasping claws. Damned thing will be able to rip my arm from its socket if it gets a good grip. “I am trying… to stop… your pet… from killing me.”

“The bios aren’t there to kill you. Remember? Unlike the assassin in my house. Now tell me what I need to do, or I’m getting out of here.”

“GahhhAH.” I sprint for the cover of a nearby thicket, hurling myself into a particularly spiny gorse.

I’m rewarded with tiny scratches all over my skin, which while painful are still better than the kind the owl is trying to give me.

It squawks in frustration. It sounds like a klaxon.

I scramble up and keep low, keep running.

“Can you disable the presence sensors from there?”

“Yes.”

“Do it before you move. All the security, actually. There’s nothing stopping whoever’s there from accessing a terminal.

If they realise”—I don’t need my revs to spot the trees up ahead suddenly shaking.

I switch direction. “If they realise you’re running, they may force the house into lockdown. Trap you inside.”

Silence, both on the comms and from the forest. The latter’s more ominous, as far as I’m concerned. I creep into some thick shrubbery and lie perfectly still. I’m not going to outrun the thing, but I might be able to fool it into thinking I’ve escaped.

“Alright. It’s done. Where am I going?”

“EMP ring. Deeper the better. Keep as many bios around you as you can. Don’t go further; they’re probably monitoring outside the ring too.”

“How will you find me? Comms won’t work.”

“I’ll track you once I’m DAMN IT TO HELL CAN YOU CALL YOUR CREATURES OFF?

” I hiss the words as I leap up and start zigzagging madly between trees, somatic revs activated, suddenly less concerned about evading the attention of the circling Hed above.

I barely caught the movement of the gargantuan snake hunting me in time. It slithers after me.

“They’re bios, Azure, not espers. I thought you were supposed to be good at this?” She whispers the words. The tension in her voice says she’s creeping for the exit. That’s something. Doing what she’s told, even if she’s finding time to annoy me while she does it.

“I’ll… find you… once I’ve dealt with… the assassin.” Breath short. The revs let me sprint longer and harder, but it takes no less effort.

“And if there’s more than one?”

“There… isn’t.”

“What if they deal with you instead?”

“Then I… don’t care… what happens to you.”

She utters a soft laugh, even though I was in no way joking.

“Is there any… way you can communicate… to the bios to let me through?” I growl as I jag left behind more tree cover; there’s a sudden gale buffeting my back as the Hed arrests its dive at me. “Could take me… hours to get back.”

The faint clicking of a door through the comms. She’s outside.

“Let one of the bios catch you.” She’s still whispering. Just out of breath enough that I’m sure I’ve misheard her.

“Pardon?”

“The Heds were told to bring you back here. It’ll be fastest.”

“No.” There’s a steep gully; I leap over a wall of densely packed brush, sliding hard down the almost sheer slope. Let’s see the stupid megasnake follow me down here.

“They’ve been told not to hurt you, Azure.”

Sharp rocks tear through my suit, slice into my already-injured and aching leg. I ignore the sting. Slide smoothly to my feet again and continue my sprint as talons scythe the air not far from my head. “Were these ones around when you mentioned that?”

“Look, I’m almost at the forest. Comms are about to cut out. But they know, Azure. They know. If you want to get back here in time to save me, you’re going to have to trust me.” A pause, and then, “Or, you know, if you don’t want to lose that file—”

“Shut up and keep running. I’ll see you soon.”

Another few seconds, and the comms go dead. She’s reached the forest. Or the assassin got her, I suppose. Hopefully the former.

The Hed dives again; I fling myself into a cave—little more than a small hollow in the rock—and scramble as deep as I can. The giant owl lands about five metres away. I swear the ground shakes. Its wings blot the last of the light before they slowly fold along its back.

It comes toward me with a hopping, mesmeric sway that doesn’t seem to touch its head.

It reaches the cave entrance and bends to peer inside.

Curved beak scraping stone, then snapping a few times not more than a metre from my face before slowly retreating.

It’s too big to squeeze through the opening.

More than big enough to completely block my only way out, though. They need a better name. Owlephants? Colossowls? So many good options. What does Hed even mean? I watch it watch me. Creepy giant owl face barely visible in the dying light. It settles in.

Probably waiting for the snake, now that I think about it.

Old Woman’s right. I can’t afford to be doing this all night.

Screw it.

“Hey… ah, you,” I call cautiously out the cave entrance. “Look. Your master’s in trouble and I need to get back to the house to protect her. So I’m surrendering.” Feels really damned stupid to be talking to a bio. Still. “Please don’t eat me?”

Its unsettlingly wide eyes don’t leave me, but it bobs slightly.

Or was that my imagination? I activate my somatics.

Feel my skin thickening, hardening. Not that it would stop those talons from slicing clean through pretty much any part of my body, but it does make me feel slightly better about what I’m about to do.

Very slightly.

“Alright. I’m coming out now. Niiice monster,” I say in a soothing voice, edging forward and holding my hands up, palms outward, in what I hope is an obvious sign of surrender.

The Hed doesn’t twitch, even as I reach the entrance.

Good start. Maybe they really are as intelligent as Old Woman said.

“Now listen closely. I’m going to carefully grab onto your claws, and then you can…

” It’s walking forward. Towering above me.

Way too close. “Steady, big guy. I just need a good grip and I can—”

A flash of talon, and it’s knocking me from my feet. Claws wrapped around my left leg.

“A… little… tight,” I manage to grunt out between gritted teeth as I swat vainly at the claw, trying to reduce the crushing pressure that would surely snap any regular person’s bones. I stop as its wings spread, blocking out the world. “Oh. Oh, no.”

We take off.