Chapter 42.2: Incursion

At the other end of Thaumacore’s eastern wing, Minkus stepped out of the sunlight, through the daunting front doorway, and into the main corridor of the complex. He tugged at the collar of his stolen Inquest uniform. Starched stiff and fitted to the slender guard he’d taken it from, the whole outfit pressed in on him like a crunchy, woolen sausage casing.

He and Wepp had just come in from the sultry courtyard outside, striding as confidently as they could past a group of asura still loading crates onto the wagon Crusader Bjornsson had spotted from the thicket. Though Minkus had feared confrontation, the two hadn’t needed to say a single word to the milling engineers. Entrenched as they were in their work, they hardly even noticed the disguised intruders: they were just another pair of guards.

Inside now, Minkus felt a chill. Not in the real, scientific sense, of course, but in that deep-in-the-bones way that fear could draw a shiver from anyone, anywhere, at any time. Eyeing the length of the hallway and wishing he were still wearing his armor, Minkus tugged at the collar again and clutched tightly to the strap that held the seer-magic projector to his back. That device would have to be comfort enough.

Wepp too gave a small shudder as he gazed down the corridor. Twelve feet across and equally tall, the hall came to a triangular point at the top that stretched its full length, far enough into the distance that Minkus couldn’t see its end. Walled, floored, and ceilinged in black, the whole place was darker than the halls of Rata Sum, even in spite of the long illumination cells that ran the hallway’s length. Only half of those were the standard white, designed to light the space for purely pragmatic purposes. Alternating between them were lengths of crimson light that dimmed the space and tinted it a sickly pink.

Along the corridor, Minkus could see branching hallways meeting it periodically at right angles. Between those, breaks in the lines of red and white light indicated steel and stonework doors leading into adjacent rooms. Occasionally one would open, and a member of the facility’s krewe would bustle out and shuffle up or down the corridor as their current duties demanded, disappearing just as quickly into another doorway or hall. In that respect, the complex was just like any asuran working space Minkus had ever known, full of work to do and people to do it.

Minkus exchanged a glance with Wepp, nodded, and began the journey into the deep structure. Wepp took the lead, and Minkus followed.

So far, Wepp hadn’t given Minkus reason to offer support of a physical or magical variety, so he hadn’t pushed it. If Wepp didn’t need that help, it was fine. Actually, it would be better that way, leaving Minkus with more energy for whatever else they might encounter in the course of the rescue—he hoped that would be nothing, but he understood how unlikely that was. Although Wepp was starting to look more nervous now that they were inside the building, he pressed on without complaint, leading Minkus down the corridor and mumbling directions to himself as though reading them right off the map their captive guard had drawn in the rich soil of the thicket. He had the photographic memory so common to asura.

Minkus too imagined that picture as they went, mentally tracing their progress as well as he could. He thought he had some rough idea where they were, but it was hard to tell, as he did not have the usually sharp memory of their people. And it only got harder as they passed the first couple of junctures with other halls, which he didn’t recall seeing on that dirt-dug map at all. He must not have remembered it well.

Wepp frowned. “It seems that guard wasn’t much of a cartographer. He seems to have omitted about thirty percent of this building’s crossways.”

Minkus breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t just been him after all.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

Wepp pursed his lips, putting a hand to his bald pate as he continued scanning their passing surroundings. “It means we will likely be performing even more exploration than we anticipated. We have only a vague comprehension of where your friends might be.” He slowed but never stopped moving forward. “Although, I suppose it hasn’t altered our odds of finding an emergency-protocol terminal.”

Minkus frowned in thought. “Is that— is it just one particular terminal that we need?”

Wepp shrugged awkwardly. “Unfortunately, I have no experience with Kikka’s particular adaptation of Inquest emergency contingencies. I would hope not, but I do not know with any tolerable degree of certainty how many terminals may be so equipped.”

They walked another length of hallway, passing an asura garbed in the black and red attire of the Inquest. He cast a disdainfully quick glance at them as Minkus jumped out of the way. A golem worked to keep up with the engineer’s anxious pace, taking up half the width of the corridor as it too passed Minkus and Wepp, carrying a crate just like those they’d seen being loaded onto the large wagon outside. Whatever this krewe was shipping out, it seemed to be important to more than just Kikka. 

Wepp stopped, waiting just a moment for the asura and his golem to move out of earshot, then he waved Minkus aside and into one of the rooms that branched off the corridor. “This way.”

Minkus obliged, but cautiously. Even if the guard’s map was thirty percent incomplete, as Wepp said, it still didn’t seem like they’d come far enough to have found Ventyr and Yissa so soon, and there was no telling what might lay inside one of these side rooms. He peered over Wepp’s shoulder before entering.

There wasn’t much to it, really. The dark, stone walls were lighter than the black hallways outside and dressed with bluish geometric patterns that pulsed faintly, almost framing a trio of wall-mounted data terminals. A row of empty worktables ran down the opposite wall. No one, asura or otherwise, was there, and it looked like there hadn’t been anyone assigned to the small lab in some time. Minkus couldn’t say if the stark emptiness made him more or less comfortable, but it certainly wasn’t where the Inquest was holding their friends.

“They aren’t here,” he whispered. “And this doesn’t look like a testing area.”

“That is because it isn’t a testing chamber,” Wepp said just as quietly. “We are here for that.” Pointing, he padded toward the rightmost data terminal, and popped his knuckles with intent.

“A data terminal?” Minkus asked. “But we haven’t found Ventyr yet. We can’t set off an alarm before—”

“No, I do not intend to trigger an alarm yet.” He was already navigating his way through the presented data in a series of seemingly random taps on the terminal’s screen. “My ears, Minkus, I am simply preparing: ensuring that I know exactly where— ah, that’s helpful— exactly where we can execute this aspect of our plan. As I asserted earlier, not all terminals will necessarily have the capacity to trigger emergency protocols, and we need to know which ones…”

He trailed off, focusing on the terminal, whose shifting lights and patterns scrolled faintly across his face as he scoured the lines and diagrams.

“Yes,” he said, “this terminal has the necessary trigger!” Wepp hopped in delight—a strange sight given his bulbous proportions and usually modest manner. He spun to Minkus, who tried to share his enthusiasm, and stepped quickly past him to scan the room more intently. “We just need to remember this location, so we can return here at the next phase of our operation.”

Minkus imitated the movement, though he didn’t quite understand how looking around the room was going to help him remember where it was.

“Onward,” Wepp declared, lowering his voice once more. He slid past Minkus, out through the door, and into the hall.

Minkus took one last look at the space before following through the doorway and back onto their path down the hall. But before he could make it a step, Minkus slammed squarely into Wepp, who’d come to a complete stop just on the other side.

“Great Alchemy!” Wepp yipped.

Minkus nearly jumped. “My apologies, Wepp. I— I didn’t think you’d be—”

“Kikka,” Wepp hissed, silencing him. He nodded down the hallway toward another pair of asura coming toward them. “That’s Kikka. My ears, I wanted my retribution, but we’re not ready—I’m not ready.”

Minkus squinted, staring through the corridor’s reddened light. One of the two did appear to be a female, but she were still a few dozen yards away. At that range it was hard to tell exactly what color her dark hair was, but her small stature, strident gate, and emphatically unpleasant body language did seem to fit the little bit Minkus had heard about Kikka. Beside her was some male who also didn’t look especially kind. Neither looking at her nor down the hallway, he seemed to simply absorb the abuse she was clearly dumping on him as he took notes on a data tablet. Minkus didn’t know either of them, but he also didn’t think he wanted to.

Just in front of Minkus, Wepp physically shook, suddenly scanning the walls between them and the oncoming pair. “We need to get out of this hall,” he stammered. “Anywhere. Anywhere!”

Minkus looked at the doorway they were still standing beside. “Why don’t we just go back—”

“We can’t,” Wepp hissed again. “It would look too fearful, too suspicious. Keep moving.”

Minkus glanced again at the doorway, tugging his ear as he pressed his thoughts together. It didn’t make sense to him, but trusting Wepp, he stepped forward down the hall again, only to bump once more into Wepp, who hadn’t actually moved. The other asura stood, frozen and staring down the hall. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his lips contorted in a curious melding of fury and terror.

“Didn’t you say ‘keep moving?’” Minkus asked, becoming genuinely confused. “You’re not—”

“I know I’m not!” Wepp piped. “I am just a bit frightened is all, and my feet— well, they seem to have halted. This is precisely what I didn’t wish to happen!” He wobbled a little.

“So we shouldn’t move back?” Minkus asked.

“No, certainly not.”

“And you can’t move forward?”

“It appears not.” Wepp hiccuped.

“I can carry you,” Minkus offered, taking a quick assessment of Wepp’s size.

“My ears, no! We’re trying not to be conspicuous.”

Minkus stepped up beside his locked partner, wracking his brain for any alternative paths. Frankly he wasn’t exactly sure how they weren’t already conspicuous.

“Well— maybe she won’t recognize you?” Minkus finally said, starting to squirm himself. It was the only thought that came to mind, but the moment it left his mouth, it felt foolish.

“Alchemy, of course she will!” Wepp rasped. “I’ve seen her face more times than— wait.”

Wepp sobered suddenly. He still showed no signs of movement, and the sweat still ran down his forehead, but his eyes narrowed with sudden concentration, even clarity. “I’ve seen her hologram numerous times, but my holo-projector is only a receiver. She’s never seen my face. Kikka has never seen my face!”

Minkus nodded, grinning just a little. “Excelsior. Then all we have to do is pass them, right?”

Though it lacked confidence, Wepp nodded, and Minkus put a hand to his back, beginning gently but increasing the pressure as he felt Wepp give ground.

“You can do this,” Minkus said, and he gently pushed Wepp forward. “But maybe don’t look at her.”