Versim (22 page)

Without thought, Hark placed the Blaster against his chest so that it would recharge faster. It adhered to his Skinsuit. He kicked aside a chair with more force than necessary, sending it careening into an untouched rhododendron in a black pottery vase.

He could still hear Celia scratching away.

Come on, he thought as he turned back to the stairwell and elevator shaft. If you’re going to come, Ervé, come yourself.
 

He heard animal breathing and primal grunts of exertion echoing up the stairwell, fast moving feet, claws that clicked against concrete. Fifty floors. And they were coming fast. The most tactical place would be at the head of the stairs. But he had to watch the elevator shaft, as well.
 

No, here, at the doorway to the office. He could manage. He’d been in far worse scrapes. Without Magdalena, he’d have to keep it basic—the dirty kind of fighting. The kind he excelled at. And Ervé’s hordes of classic horror tropes would be ugly, brutal, and mean. They’d be distilled examples culled from a thousand narratives. If his sister was correct, the tropes would be archetypes of human fear: the Thing, the Beast, the Cannibal.
 

He stilled his mind, already at ease, even though he could see that Frankie, while dead, was being co-opted. Hark saw subtle movement in his periphery. Whatever infection had caused part of the city’s inhabitants to succumb to the mutant machine was at work like insects under Frankie’s skin. Just a little more time, then it would all be over. And he could say a eulogy for Frankie in a real world he never knew.

He hurried back inside to see Celia in a trance, auto-writing, scribbling nonsensical character all over the page. She should be waking up, each scratch of the pen one part of a cipher to decrypt her security blocks. Hark stood watch, expecting to see a change. This should happen quickly for her. But Celia kept writing.

“What the heck?” he said.

Tripp appeared out of nowhere. “She still writing?”

Hark barely glanced at him. “Been at it for a few minutes. I should be feeling the pull.”

“Not going to happen, brother.” Tripp stepped forward dressed in full combat gear. His carapace was sizzling like a heat shield around him. He wore his blue Skinsuit, fully armored. “I’m here to help you, if you need it. But I hope you listen to reason.”

“Reason?”

“Krista explain things?”

“A bit. Doesn’t matter. The host’s waking up. One way or the other.”

Hark saw a dark look cross Tripp’s face. “Her code’s been changed.”

“What?” Hark looked closer. The nonsensical characters should have had some pattern. Even a human eye should have been able to spot it. Without Magdalena, he’d assumed he wouldn’t really be able to tell.
 

“How long she been at it?” Tripp asked.

“Two, maybe three minutes.”

“That’s enough time for everyone in here with parachutes to feel it.” Tripp looked around. “Not happening, though. The V’s stable. You see any cracks? Anyone here feel strange?”

Hark let his mind rest, even though he heard the eager sounds of his attackers getting closer. The world around him was continuing. But nothing in the V seemed to be unraveling like it should. The walls didn’t look thinner, the floor cracked, the sky duller.

“They’re rewriting her parachute?”

“It’s in their contract to do so.”

“Right when they think she’d use it.”

Tripp nodded. “Clever bastards.” He stepped between Hark and Celia to shield her. “Don’t even think about it, Hark.”

“Binda!” Hark yelled. The young woman had been watching from the other side. “Goddamn it, Binda.” He strode to the vase, smashed it to pieces, and caught the bracelet before it fell to the ground. He couldn’t force it on her. It wouldn’t work that way. So he held it in front of her face. “Take this and put it on.”

She shook her head so violently her bangs flew back and forth. “No.”

“I’m going to have to … wake her up the hard way, Binda. Right now.” Hark saw Tripp take the pen from Celia’s hand. Celia looked up. She hadn’t heard, but she appeared frightened. Hark said, “I’m going to do it. I have to. And I won’t be able to protect you.”

“The hard way?” Binda said. “What do you mean?”

Hark heard heavy breathing from outside the suite, like a pack of waiting wild dogs slavering for a single piece of meat. The door was shut. If the beasts outside had an ounce of human rationality, they would open it. Or rip through it, if not. Unless they were commanded to wait, he told himself. He had a few seconds. But Tripp was guarding Celia.
 

“Get out of my way, Tripp,” Hark said. “If we can’t stop what comes through that door, we all die anyway, no matter what I do.”

“I’m here to help avoid that.”

“Help me wake her, then.”

“No can do.”

Hark turned back to Binda. “Take it.”

“No. Let me play my part.”

He cursed again and placed the bracelet on a table near her.

He faced Celia, who sat with hands on her knees, dull-eyed. Hark could see she was fully awake now. She didn’t know what that meant, of course, so she was still as pliable as a regular person in-V. She had none of an awakened host’s special abilities. All she needed was the parachute decrypt code, or …

“Get out of my way, Tripp,” Hark said. “You want to help? You know what you can do to help.”

Krista appeared in Hark’s peripheral vision. “We won’t let you do it the hard way, Hark. And we know you won’t fight us. It’s going to be bloody before it gets better. Get Binda out of here. She should be your main concern. We’ve got Celia.”

“You’ve got Celia? What do you mean?” Hark heard only the panting of wild beasts outside the door. It seemed as if they were waiting for something. “What’s going on here?”

The door to the office suite opened. Hark swiveled, both arms coming up to fry whatever walked through. He saw Saul, his old friend’s son walk through the door in front of a smiling Ervé, the antagonist he’d planted ten miles under the metal crust of a prison planet and dumped in solitary confinement for three years.
 

Hark had always known this day would come. The sinking feeling he’d been setup from the beginning weighed on him. He stared at his brother and sister and wondered if they’d betrayed him. He saw only devotion in both of their eyes.

Then what
?

Ervé had his demonic hands on the boy’s shoulders. Already, Hark could feel the weight of the man’s mind. A reeking malevolence exuded from him. Without Magdalena to mute his mind, he’d have difficulty just putting his hands on the man. Beyond the doorway, Hark saw several standing forms, fully covered in wild hair like that of an animal’s. The werethings were tall and still, and staring right at him.

Binda had moved to huddle with Celia. Both women held on to each other in the far corner. Tripp and Krista stood in front of them. Hark stood in the middle of the large space, looking back and forth.

“What are you doing with the boy?” Hark asked.

Ervé walked Saul forward, who looked to be in a daze, or maybe sedated. “Miesha extracted him, brought him here. Said it would muck things up for you.” Ervé smiled. “It seems it has. Won’t be able to fulfill that EA contract of yours now, will you? Can’t rightly kill the host because you’ll kill the boy at the same time.”

“We live or is this dampened?”

Krista stepped forward. “This is live, Hark. And you should be getting a visitor right about now …”

Hello, sir. It’s good to be back.

Like a best friend who you’ve been waiting on for weeks, Magdalena returned in an instant. Her soothing voice, right behind him, filled Hark’s head. Every bit of her seeped into him, as if she were a towering guardian angel who was always nearby. Hark stared at Krista. His Spinner sister had known Magda was coming, but how?

I’ve been turned on legally, sir
, Magdalena said.
You know you never get me right after an immersion
.

Right after an immersion
, he thought?
It’s been two days
.

Two days since you tunneled in illegally, so I’ve been told, but you’re back on the rails, sir. EA’s running you now.

“Krista, what happened to Garce?”

“They found us, Hark. They’re letting you continue, though.”

“Why?

Krista stepped rounded the couch. “Miesha Preston’s earned herself a place at the high table, Hark. She’s directing this one.”

“This is a supreme case of major bull-crap,” Hark said. “They kept me in the dark for how long?”

Tripp edged his way closer. “Had to be this way. We only found out after our last return. I woke up to EA grunts with assault rifles in my face. Versim required you think this was still a bleedover hijack scenario. They turned it around on us.”

“Versim? We’re breaking those rules by talking about it.”

“All suspended,” Ervé said, “all because our ingenious director knew what would sell. And, oh, is it selling.”

Hark moved between the eyes of his allies and his enemy, sensing bad news was on its way. “She broke a thousand laws by bleeding tropes into this V. They employed the boy?”

Ervé tasseled his hair. “He immersed this morning. He woke up … about to play his role perfectly.”

“His role?” But Hark could see it clearly. Saul didn’t know him. He was asleep. What twisted backstory had they implanted in him? “In his mind he’s now a son who’s lived without a father for a decade.” Ervé cocked his head to the side, as if posing for a picture. “Me, of course. And not far from the truth. But his father has returned, with an army. And I’ll turn the city upside down to capture the man who sent him away.” Hark saw that Saul appeared to be waking from his daze. “The story will be grand, Specialist Cole. Miesha is rewriting all the narrative rules on this one. And the response has been outstanding. You get to play yourself in this one. And so do I.”

Ervé glanced at Krista, as if she needed to do something for the script to continue.

Krista stepped forward. “Hark, it has to be this way.” She turned and looked at Celia. “Celia, my dear, listen closely …” Krista leaned in and whispered something to the woman.
 

Hark watched the first recorded example of a Spinner legally using bleedover lore in-V. Everyone guessed it happened sometimes, both outside and inside Rend-Vs. But the clandestine war between the Vox and Spinners over how best to manipulate V-Theory was being shown to the world. He couldn’t hear the spell, but he saw Celia’s reaction. All his work waking her up disappeared in an instant as a strange fire erupted in Celia’s eyes.

36

Binda had been standing next to Celia the entire exchange. She stared wide-eyed at the cast in the room. The other man, Tripp Cole, looked just as impressive as Hark. The most feared villain in Rend-V history had also arrived, but Binda couldn’t shake a strange feeling that she was drawn to him. And the mysterious bleedover inspector who’d contacted her was there as well and had just cast a spell over Celia. A hot flash of sweat erupted along Binda’s body as she stared at Celia. It was damp enough to make the back of her shirt stick to her skin.

She felt a strange sensation roil in her belly.

Even with Celia standing next to her, a woman holding onto Binda as if she might fall to the floor, Binda felt a strong urge to embrace her as well. Maybe the smell of her herbal shampoo, or was that soap? Maybe the shape of her perfect chin. Binda grabbed her hand and, gently, pulled her. Celia followed like a wounded puppy dog.

“Play your part,” Binda remembered Krista saying. “No matter what it is.”

Binda realized that the bracelet wasn’t a parachute. It was a rabbit hole. She opened her purse. The object twinkled in the low light, as if lit by batteries. Only she saw the dazzle that meant she was being offered a job, her gem for a new life: the biggest prize for any Rend-V actor waiting for an official part. If you get offered a rabbit hole you better jump down it. Her audition was over. They were offering her a principal role. She retrieved the magical bracelet from her purse, glanced at Krista once more, who stared back knowingly, and put it on.
 

37

Hark saw Binda use the bracelet. She didn’t disappear, as she should have. Parachutes are fast, he thought. She should be gone already.
 

Instead, Binda led Celia around Krista and Tripp. She glanced at Hark once, and Hark realized he didn’t know Binda anymore. In fact, her face seemed to deepen somehow, the eye sockets, maybe. A look of extreme menace turned up the sides of her lips. And the way she glowered at him like he were a slave meant she’d turned. Binda was in character and asleep. And she would play her role with gusto, he could see.
 

Celia followed Binda, until they reached Ervé.

Celia looked up, as well, clarity in eyes that now glowed a golden fire. All fear and unease were gone. The presence that looked out of the host’s body grinned with evil intent.
 

Hark nodded to Celia. “I wasn’t keeping her alive, was I?” Hark said.

“Of course not,” Ervé said. “We never wanted to kill her. Just retrieve her.”

“And sucker me into your new narrative?”

“You’re the bad guy now. You wanted to wake up the host … or do worse: murder everyone alive in-V.”

Saul moved to Celia’s side, except it wasn’t Saul. Like his mother and sister the demon boy had golden eyes.
 

The woman who’d been Celia looked down at him. She kissed him on the forehead in a twisted display of motherly love, then returned to glare at Hark.

“What’s the premise?” Hark asked.

Krista moved to his side. “You knew EA contracted you to do whatever is asked for a reason. It wasn’t just payment for keeping the boy alive. They’ve worked that into backstory. You play yourself. And in the narrative you still have to wake the host and protect the boy.”

“Except now I’m the enemy.”

“Welcome to the new world of bleedover Rend-Vs. They’re not simple anymore. Everyone wants to see your struggle.”

Tripp moved up. “I’d like to take a swipe at him for you.” He continued to glare at Ervé. “But this is your show. The director won’t make it easy on you, but you can do it. Krista negotiated Magdalena for you.”