Kid Rocks muffled, highly processed voice scread pseudo-rap into my ear. Which led to the next inevitable question.
What fucking year was it?
With Kinsleys door, there was a sense of movent. Moving from one room to the next. It didnt matter that the rooms were far apart, because you still felt that transition, that forward montum carrying you from point A to point B.
Traveling through the portal on the other hand, was disorienting, verging on disturbing. There was no sense of passage. One mont, you were walking into the portal. The next, you were standing still, staring into the yellow-stained porcelain abyss of a broken commode. It felt like blacking out. Losing ti.
My thoughts were jumbled, disorderly. I had a hard ti rembering what I was doing and why I was here. I couldnt stop thinking about what would have happened if there was soone in the bathroom occupying the sa space I just appeared in.
Maybe thats why they sent you to the broken stall, genius.
Oh good. was talking to again. At least Nick didnt
I scrambled out of the stall, nearly tripping over my own feet until the open arm of a yellowing, cracked baby changer saved . I needed to get out of the way before Nick appeared in the sa place.
Jesus, I really needed to ask soone if telefragging was a thing.
Carefully, trying to ntally and physically reset, I threw the door open and walked out. The muffled bass grew sharper, but only just, and the scent of mildew, vomit, and liquor washed over . There was a small bar housing only a dozen stools, with several booths along the left-hand side. At least five heavy-set n in a varying selection of baseball and cowboy hats turned my way. A sixth sat next to the jukebox, fiddling with a handful of quarters. Their suspicious gazes lingered on for a mont too long, then turned away, settling on where Keith and Halima sat at the bar.
They looked old enough to join the army, but a bit too young to drink. Keith was clutching his wand beneath the bar, his knee bouncing up and down. Halima looked etched from stone.
Nick exited a mont later, nodded towards the door. Keith jumped off the stool imdiately and followed him, Halima falling in behind them while I took up the rear.
A notification prompt popped open.
Quest: Ancient Blueprint
Initial Objective: Gain entrance to the Gilded Tower.
Primary Objective Acquire at least twenty planners from ripples on the lower tower floors.
Secondary Objective Acquire as many planners as possible.
Tertiary Objective Avoid direct conflict in the tower and keep a low profile.
Threat Level: ???
EXP GAIN (M)
Ti Limit: One Day
Reward: Selve, Hasturs Favor, Market Credit (Variable.)
Fuck. What to do? We couldnt fail this mission. Without knowing exactly what Hastur wanted the planners for, it would look bad and draw attention I didnt want. At the very least, we needed the minimal amount. But I didnt like the way the secondary objective was worded. More problematic, there were other teams from the order in play. I didn't know if they were looking for the sa thing, or sothing more critical.
I needed to create problems for the Order on a large scale that didnt imdiately point to , while succeeding in my mission, without succeeding too much.
Sotis, I missed the scantron days.
We pushed open the doors out into the street. Miraculously, it was even louder outside the bar. Id thought, given the the park aesthetic, that the party-land bustle of region five would die down so after dark.
Not so much. They just doubled down on the torches.
It had a sweatier, hamring feeling beneath the moon. More like a nightclub than a the park. Masses of bodies, dancing to a drum-heavy beat. A woman in glowing neon body paint and peacock regaliaan outfit that narrowly dodged blatant cultural appropriation, only by appropriating literally everything into an unrecognizable amalgampaused as she passed by us, offering a tray furnished with colorful asymtrical bottles complete with curly straws.
Spiked with 151. Casino tactics. Avoid.
I smacked Keiths hand away and smiled at the woman. Were fine.
Youre in El Dorado, darlings. Live a little. She pulled an eight ball from her corset and wiggled it in front of my face. The substance within was powdery and clay red. I waited for comntary.
Not a damn clue.
I took the bag from herpartially because I was curious, partially because I wanted her to leave without drawing more attention to us. I must have looked confused, because, as a helping hint, she tapped her nostril and winked before she sashayed away.
We took our place in the long queue to the front of the tower. It seed even taller now than it had the evening Id scouted the region with Miles, at least as tall as the Bank of Arica Plaza had been before the teor reduced it to a smoking ruin. The question was whether it was an optical illusion, or the tower was actually growing.
I tapped my toe inside my boot, searching for an angle, coming up dry.
Nick elbowed . So, uh. You in the habit of taking illicit substances from strangers?
Relax, boy scout. I scoffed and tossed him the eight ball. He caught it easily, squinting at the bag. You ever see anything this color?
Saw so designer shit once that was bright green. But nothing quite like this. Nick said.
It looks like strawberry pixie stick. Halima comnted, completely seriously. She was standing on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look at the bag.
You dont snort those. Keith said. He was still pouting, probably because Id stopped him from taking the drink.
Were you hoschooled? Halima asked Keith.
Seems kind of small ti to . So girl slipped you a di bag at a rager. Big whoop. Nick said.
She's not so girl. She's staff. And Ive seen them pass out at least thirty of those bags since. Considering how theyre spiking their drinks with rum running around seventy-five percent ABV, I'm curious what exactly theyre pairing it with. I said. Probably an upperany depressant in combination with the rum was likely to zonk out a person with average tolerancebut considering how didnt trigger, I was guessing it was system related.
Nick raised an eyebrow. You got a pedigree to go with that bloodhound nose?
Im a fucking somlier. Whats it matter?
Keith cleared his throat. I thought somliers were wine experts.
I rolled my eyes. Maybe its nothing. Maybe its cocaine stepped on with cayenne. Either way, I want to know where theyre getting this shit and how they can afford to give so much of it away.
Nick finally shrugged. Fair enough. Not sure I see the value, but Im kind of slow. Its important we stay ahead of the ga. More than a few people back at HQ you could pass that off to. So of em might even give you a straight answer. A few might even give it back. Nick passed the baggy back to , and I stuck it in my inventory
Keith looked puzzled. Is there a liquor version of a somlier?
Why do you always look at when you have a vocabulary question? Halima sighed.
I was about to say sothing pithy about a bartender when a familiar face caught my eye. A man in a Hawaiian shirt was leaning on a pillar next to an old school vendors cart, biting into a churro.
Imdiately, I turned my back to him, my heart pounding.
Cook. Shit.
I snuck another glance over my shoulder. The fed looked more or less recovered from our altercation, almost bored as he stared out into the crowd, nibbling on the churro with the slow, constant pace of a marathon runner.
Of course Miles stationed a lookout here. We scouted out the tower recently, and I ran my fucking mouth about how they were looking for sothing. I told myself it was fine. That Cook was focused on the exit. Id need to be careful when we made our way out, but he hadnt been exposed to the mask for an extended period. As long as I was cautious, and there wasnt a shift change, Id be fine.
But what if I wasnt?
It all hit at once. A thousand half-finished thoughts and ideas slid into place, a plan to stick the feds so far up the Orders ass they wouldnt know what hit them. Simultaneously, a way to create a future exit plan for Nick.
I had a narrow window, but it was there. Couldnt risk it in a public space, with so many people to notice.
Several dozen ssages arrived, one after another, each berating for not reaching out sooner or bringing up to speed. Apparently, Caron was awake and pissed. Hed tried to muscle his way out and had to be gassed. Kinsley wasnt taking any chances with the containnt. Not long after, Miles ca looking for and shed fed him a line. According to her, he probably bought it. Probably.
The latter brought up a pain point I still didnt know how to deal with yet.
While the three-way altercation between the Ordinator, his unidentified companion, and the feds had bought ti, Miles was going to get suspicious, eventually. If I could use Azure from a distancefind so sort of mana battery that would let him keep his form for an extended period separate from that would more or less solve the problem.
But Id relay that later. I had sothing more incendiary in mind.
I made a ntal note to get that story from her later. I couldn't imagine soone getting that far into a vocation so early in the ga, unless they had so sort of specialized background that translated.
:( >
then. Im just gonna set up a nice, very well guarded lab in another region.>
I was banking a lot on faith. That Hastur would wait, hoping I would co around despite the disruption. He seed desperate. And it took far longer than usual for desperate people to cut and run. I could only hope it was the sa for gods.
In the anti, I played the role the Overseer created for . I crafted the ssage as quickly as I could, checked it three tis, then sent it off. It was like writing an essay. An utterly psychopathic, problematic essay, but when you broke them down to their parts, all essays are the sa.
Without missing a beat, I turned to Nick. Not trying to step on your toes here, but wouldnt it be better if we split up a bit?
Nicks eyebrows narrowed. Never split the party
Im just talking initially. We enter separately, et back up in whatever this gilded erection has for a lobby, split back up on the exit.
Nick considered that, then nodded. Smart. Better for optics. Never know who could be watching. Gonna go up front, keep the kids in the middle. You good to take up the rear?
Done. I slid back through the line, ending up behind a couple of tough guys who sneered at when I flagged down a shirtless man in a kilt for one of the festive-looking drinks on his tray. It gave an excuse to move backwards in the line, and to be honest, I kind of enjoyed the potential visual it created.
Then I waited. If Miles was as smart as I thought, hed figure it out with ti to spare.
Twenty minutes later, just as I reached the front of the line, Cooks head snapped up. He dropped the stub of his churro and took several steps forward, brow furrowed as he searched the sea faces with more intensity than before.
Eventually, his gaze landed on .
I took a tiny suck from the looping straw, and flipped him the bird.
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