Chapter 25.4: Human-Asura Relations

Kikka must have finished berating her people, because the next thing Veritas knew, she was most of the way across the room toward him again, followed closely by another of her sniveling underlings. “Vadd,” she growled, now close enough to be heard clearly, “you may be useful, but don't assume for a moment that you're indispensable. None of you are. None!”

The gaunt asura followed a step behind her, trembling visibly. “Be that as it may, Mistress,” he replied, “I fear for the timeline. The derivative energy was all but uncontrollable, which is why those prototype weapons had such underwhelming range. The energy of your authentic sample is slightly more stable, but— well, it's still unruly. We've created irises that successfully reduce the energy’s focal width, but as soon as it leaves the device— well, its path defies our currently held paradigms of physics, behaving almost as much as a gas as it does a light. It spreads—”

Kikka spun, glaring at him. “I do not care what your challenges are, Vadd. Make it work!”

Vadd stumbled, stopped, and brushed a fallen dreadlock from his face as she turned away and continued again. He visibly built up his courage, speaking once more to her back. “Mistress, if I may, I believe, for the time being, we should commit all our resources to our other task. Even if we can deduce what this human's spells achieve, it's—”

“It's not your choice,” Kikka barked, cutting him off. She took the remaining steps to the cart, which now stood between her and the humans. Hands on hips, she gestured haphazardly at Christoff. “This is the human, and that’s the element.”

Submissively Vadd whistled and gestured toward the cart. Another of the asura came scampering over to him. “Test this to verify its authenticity,” Vadd said to the newcomer.

Obeying, the other slipped a hand beneath the canvas and pulled out a small handful of jade. Again, he bounded off to a workstation and began to work at one of their many nameless devices.

Looking from one little person to the next, Veritas had no idea what was happening, and he was tired of waiting for an explanation. “Pardon me, you ignominious witch,” he said, glaring as though to bore into the back of Kikka’s head. “What is happening, who is this, and why am I still here watching you manhandle my jade?”

“Your jade?” she asked, slowly rotating. With a sweep of her hand, Kikka gripped the canvas and tugged, pulling it clear of the cart in a single motion. She continued to say something, sounding as angry and entitled as ever, but Christoff didn’t listen to a word.

He stared at the contents of that cart, nearly hearing the thrum of the magic pulsing through those shattered bits of the construct. It was far from its original, deadly form, but it was beautiful. Piled nearly as high as a man was tall, glittering jade shards of every size and shape glowed faintly: from the size of a copper coin to the size of a man’s torso. Christoff had been told just how large the constructs of old had been, but the scale of its remnants outshined all the tales. In only a second, the exhilaration of finding and stealing that one shard from that sylvari was the faintest of memories. For everything this pile of magic-infused stone signified, his family's past and his own future, this outstripped the previous sensation as nothing else could.

He took a mesmerized step toward the cart but bumped into something, snapping him out of his trance. Somehow Kikka was now standing squarely in front of him.

“It was your own exchange that put this in my possession,” she growled, pushing him back away. “Only after we’re done with it will any of it be yours. And that’s if I still see fit.”

“If you still see—”

She went right on over his budding objection. “Consider this early access to the mineral a gift, you highborn piece of human waste, the only one you’ll ever get out of me.”

A retort nearly reached his lips, but Christoff was interrupted once more, this time by the scrappy, little asura with a fistful of jade, who came running back over from his workstation to Kikka and Vadd. “The samples match, Vadd, the samples match. Assuming consistency throughout the load,” he gestured at the cart, “this is the genuine article.”

All eyes turned to Kikka. And when hers turned to Christoff, the rest of the eyes followed. “Then you can begin your work with this one.” She nodded at him.

“Work?” Christoff asked. “What sort of work are you expecting?”

Kikka glowered at him, clearly containing herself—or attempting to. “Your spells, you ignoramus. I’ve said this countless times.”

Christoff fell silent for a moment, running a finger along his scar, along the ripples of hardened and discolored flesh left long ago by his father’s unique sense of discipline. Grimacing, he considered the cost of performing his spells before others outside the Mantle. This whole people, the asura, they were hateful little things, but for his own goals to be reached, theirs had to be as well, at least for now. And though they may have been clever, he didn’t believe even asura could unravel and repeat in a night what had taken him a decade to learn.

The corner of her petite nose twitched angrily, and Christoff couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, I do understand that. But why? What do you get out of me beginning the process of raising a construct?”

Kikka exhaled her fury. “Vadd,” she barked, still glaring up at Veritas, “they’re yours. I have no more time for idiotic questions. Use them as you need.”

Christoff nearly raised a hand in objection, but the dreadlocked engineer beat him to it. He settled back again, curious what more he might learn.

“Mistress,” Vadd said, jumping after Kikka as she spun to leave and walked away at a fast clip. “The human aside, Mistress, there’s still the matter of my requisition for additional test subjects. As I stated, it won’t be long before we need more cognitively advanced—”

“You still have that charr,” Kikka rebuffed, continuing toward the exit.

“Yes, Mistress,” he almost whimpered. “One subject, though? That— that’s hardly enough data to build—”

She stopped dead, snapping about so quickly, it scared Vadd, who leapt back a step. “You need more high-functioning subjects for extended testing?” Kikka asked. She was calmer than she’d been not seconds before, staring more through her technician than at him as she thought about the request.

“Uh, yes, Mistress,” the tentative Vadd replied.

A foul grin spread across Kikka’s angular face. “That can be arranged.”

Looking left and right, Vadd recognized her gaze was still fixed through him, and he seemed to wilt. The words poured out of him as he backed shakingly away from her. “I— I’m sorry if I overstepped, Mistress. Please don't use me. I’m more useful to you as an engineer, I’m sure of it. And we can make due with—”

“No, you muddle-brain,” she snarled, quickly taking up her sour expression again. “Not you. A pair of travelers that Operative Skixx told me to expect. If that idiot was correct, a sylvari and an asura should be coming nearly all the way to us, and the only people to know they’re coming are hundreds of leagues away.”

A sylvari, Christoff thought. Something in him had to wonder if there wasn’t more he and Kikka had in common.

“Coming to us, Mistress?” the engineer asked, nervously tapping at the tablet in his hands.

“Would it or would it not be sufficient?” Kikka demanded, biting off each word.

The other hopped slightly, taking another step back from her. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose so, though two isn’t really much of a statistical improve—”

Her glare stopped him mid-word.

“I mean, yes,” he corrected. “The asura would be perfect, considering mission objectives—sad to have to test on our own kind, though. We should be able to learn something from the sylvari, I suppose. Neurologically they can hardly be considered analogous, but—”

“I don’t care if the sylvari yields useful results.” Kikka barked. “I just want him tested on. Any valuable data will just be an added benefit.”

Christoff found himself grinning at all this. True, it was possible that the little woman hated some other sylvari as fully as he hated that vigilman who’d cost him so many men and nearly every comfort he’d amassed for himself. Possible, but not likely. Knowing what he did of that particular sylvari’s involvement with the jade, Christoff doubted it could be any other. Pleasant prospects were forming literally right in front of him.

Vadd shrugged at Kikka. “Uh, yes, alright, Mistress. As you command. If I may ask, though, how are we acquiring these subjects? They can’t literally be coming to Thaumacore.”

Kikka opened her mouth to respond, but Christoff broke in. “I know this particular sylvari, don’t I?”

“Bookah,” she yelled, “if you don't mind your own business, we'll make use of three test subjects instead of two.”

“Enough threats, asura,” he shot back, working hard to keep his voice level. Stepping up to the cart, he pulled a single sliver of jade off the pile and gently bounced it in his hand, feeling the pulse of magical power inside. It was intoxicating. “It sounds distinctly like you need someone abducted,” he said, looking at the jade, not the asura. “I have the manpower to do it, which should further cement our bond. But beyond that, I just want to. There’s a sylvari I have a score to settle with, and I dare say it’s the same one you’re referring to.” As he looked over at her at last, he found her glaring consideringly.

“And why,” she asked, “would I need your help to do that?”

He shook his head. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t. With no pressing deadlines, you have manpower to spare in this complex. Sending enough people into the wilds to search for and capture a powerful elementalist shouldn’t impede anything else you’re working on.” He smirked at her knowingly, and she gave him a look to cut stone, which only served to further his pleasure. “Am I wrong?” Christoff asked.

The asura growled. “I despise you, human.”

“Of course you do.” He leaned against the wagon, grinning. “And the more people you keep here working on whatever betrayal you’re plotting—it is some manner of betrayal, correct?—the quicker I can take my share and be out of your hair. For good.”

Crossing her arms, Kikka sneered at him. “Don’t tempt me with ‘for good.’” He could see she was considering his point.

“Mistress,” Vadd spoke up, inching toward her, “the human presents a valid point. We could use all the asura we can retain on premises.”

She snapped around, jabbing a finger in his uncommonly narrow face. “Don’t start with me, Vadd. I am critically aware of our need for resources.” She spun back toward Christoff, striding forward stiffly. “Send your people, but if they abscond with my subjects—” she let the threat trail off.

With this one, Christoff had a good idea what that meant. Most people in their moral echelon would pose vague threats in order to leave the victim imagining his own worst-case scenario. If Kikka had no end to her threat, she hadn’t come up with one.

“No threat?” he asked. “Goodness, Kikka. Is the stress getting to you?”

Fury in her eyes, she opened her mouth to retort, but he carried on, flashing a nod at Remi.

“No matter. My men won’t abscond. You know that. They accomplished their last task marvelously, and they’ll fulfill this one as well. You’ll have your test subjects, your enigmatic work here can be completed, and I’ll be on my way with what’s mine. As fair as if Grenth had issued the judgement himself.”

Remi sighed, exasperated as always by the positioning. Vadd nervously twisted the end of his coat, Kikka snarled, and Christoff waited.

It took a few moments, but eventually the little despot agreed. “Gah, fine,” she said, quickly waving at Remi. “You, come with me.”

Remi gave Christoff a tired glance and stepped on after Kikka.

It was strange, but things actually appeared to be playing more into their favor. The sylvari, while satisfying to torture, could also be leveraged when Kikka turned on them. Her betrayal wasn’t a possibility anymore; it was an eventuality, and he would need every tool he could get his hands on to survive it, including the destructive power of that accursed sylvari. Hell, maybe they would wipe each other out, and Veritas would be free of two annoyances when he escaped with his jade.

Vadd came closer, eyeing Christoff scornfully. “I suppose you are with me now.”

Another thought hit Christoff. Ignoring the engineer, he cupped a hand to his mouth and called after Kikka, “I don't suppose there’s a human woman with them as well?”

•

The stone was hard, the sun was hot, and the bog stunk worse than Sheridan’s socks. Whatever those gasses were that rose off the water, they literally tinted the air green.

Sheridan had found this vantage point some days past, in a wide, thickly bushed crag at the top of the rise just south of Thaumacore. After leaving Veritas’ cell to deal with the asura, he’d made it look like he was returning to Chief Thorn. Instead, he’d traversed the length and breadth of the surrounding plateaus to find anywhere that might provide a view of both the northern and eastern routes out of the ravine that hid the facility. This was what he found.

Before Sheridan had left Vandal’s Claim, Chief Thorne had made his assignment perfectly clear: “Learn everything you can. I want to know it all.” Sheridan didn’t know what was so interesting about either this high-and-mighty city-chief Veritas or the creepy asuran compound he’d gone so far out of his way to reach, but if Chief Thorne was interested, Sheridan would oblige. He sat in the dimming light of dusk and continued to watch the ravine below him.

How long had it been again? He looked at the tally on his arm: eighteen hashes, marking eighteen days that had gone by since he’d brought this Veritas to the know-it-alls’ compound. And in those eighteen days, he’d seen humans few enough times that he could count the occurrences on one hand.

The first time was on the second day, when he'd seen Veritas’ men leave the complex out the eastern end of the curved canyon. Through his scope, he saw the skinny guy with the attitude, the big meathead, and all the rest, wih the exception of Veritas. The group had a wagon pulled by one of those marmox creatures, and they were accompanied by a small assortment of asura. Still, the one person missing was Veritas. Sheridan had deliberated, but Thorne had been pretty clear that Veritas was the target, not the rest of the Queensdale sadsacks.

After the travelers had disappeared into the distance, though, that was it. Sheridan saw no further signs of human activity for the rest of his time there. For days on end, they stayed away, the group and their wagon, and there was no sign of Christoff Veritas anywhere on the outside of the complex. As Sheridan had tried to amuse himself, he'd guessed that either the man had become friendly with the asura, or else the little rats had taken him as a pet. It wouldn't have shocked him. The little freaks were like that. Either way, though, Sheridan saw no signs of a single human being.

For some reason, that had changed today. The party who’d left finally returned, asura, marmox, and all. Their numbers were a couple heads thinner than when they’d left, and that wagon was now loaded high with something that really seemed to weigh down the beast that pulled it. Beneath a tarp, the contents were impossible to see, except that the shape of them formed a large mound. Whatever it was they’d dragged back with them, it looked like a lot of little somethings.

As they’d entered one of the buildings on the western half of the compound, the skinny guy was separated and escorted across to the eastern end and inside. Like that, the sudden event had ended, and all was back to the way it had been, nothing but golems and asura guards patrolling the road.

That was, until another little team of asura slipped out of a doorway and crossed from the western end of the complex to the eastern, with another human in tow. But this wasn't just any human; it was Veritas, and in shackles. After eighteen days, Sheridan had finally caught sight of the man—and apparently he hadn't made much of an impression with the asura. Stopping only briefly for a conversation with some other rats, they continued on and disappeared again into another doorway, followed shortly thereafter by that wagon again.

Now here Sheridan was, a few hours later and still staring down into that ravine, the sun now fully set off to his left. Blinking to rest his eyes, he sat back against the hillside, playing the day's events over again in his mind. None of it made a lick of clear sense to him, if he was being frank, but he did recognize that something fishy was going on: likely something fishy enough that Chief Thorne would want to know about. Being as he couldn't tell from here what it was, though, the remaining question was the hard one. How close would he have to get to learn more?