Sykport

Previously

As Rasputina promised, I was given food and drink and allowed to sleep.

I did not dream, and was left alone for a long time. I woke up and saw outside my window, once for I would guess an hour. My best judge of time was watching the light from the window slanting across the room, and guessing where it had been some time before, and judging how much time would have to have passed since it arrived at a second point.

A guard I’d never seen before, with no weapon other than a sword, woke me from a nap by opening the door. “Is it time to go?”

“Yes,” He said. “This sword is for you, but I’m not to give it to you until we leave the elevator.”

“Will she come to see me off?” I asked.

He shook his head, and somberly, stepped aside to let me pass. I walked past him and tried to look in his eyes, but they were cast against the ground, and his head tilted so that I would not have been able to recognize him even if he’d been someone familiar.

He followed behind me for a short time, and then put his hand on my shoulder.

“Do you know which way to go?” He asked kindly.

“No… Where are we going?”

“To the central platform. The one that you got up here on. We’re going to the top of the tower.” His phrases were quick and I very quickly heard the fear in his voice.

“What is this?” I asked. But he did not answer. I felt the tip of the sword against my back.

“There’s only one way to go, forward. These tunnels don’t make forks, or give you choice. They know where you’re going and they adjust themselves accordingly,” he said.

“What?” I asked. “Is it to repel invaders?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He said, “Now; go forward.”

The pressure on the tip of the sword increased, and I moved forward. He kept it against the fabric of the back of my shirt, and we kept going forward through the tunnels, following the path that the tunnel had chosen. In less time than before, it seemed, we arrived again at the moving platform. He forced me on, and it started to go up. I looked behind to see him toss the sword on it. He did not get on, and instead he stood on the catwalk and watched me go up.

I saw his face turn, in the same manner that Barbara’s had when she had been sitting with me, before I left the engine. In his eyes was that same sadness. And I realized that the sadness was pity; that he thought I was going to my death. It was what Barbara had thought too, I realized.

I grabbed onto the sword and sat down on the platform, which rose and rose, moving faster with each passing second until I lay down and felt myself pressed against the platform below me. And then I noticed that the pressure ceased, and only wind rushed past me. And then I felt lighter as the platform slowed. And it slowed and slowed, and I looked above and saw a ceiling. I knew that if the platform were to travel straight up into it, I would have been crushed. Fear entered my veins and made me tremble, as the ceiling grew closer. It was metal of some kind.

But the platform stopped before we would have impacted. I stood staring at the termination of the shaft, and saw it slide open. A ladder extended down, and I knew that I was to climb onto it.

I kept the sword in my right hand and climbed slowly. I relied more on the strength of my left hand to keep myself moving up, and pressed down against rungs with my right hand to raise myself up and up. As I reached the opening that the ladder had extended from, I heard the platform descend. But I did not look down. I climbed up.

I was again in the cold outside; and it seemed very dark. Only the moon overhead seemed to give light; there were clouds enough that the stars were insignificant. I hoisted myself onto the roof, and once my feet were clear, I saw the opening close itself, in a sliding fashion. I stood, and held the sword in my hands very loosely. Around me was a metal plain, with a square building some hundred or two feet in one direction, and a visible termination of the tower in another direction. I was on the very highest point, I realized.

The building was an addition, and it was only three stories tall. Compared to how many stories of the tower itself? I have no idea, and I do not believe it was the kind of structure that would be measured easily in stories. The highest point on the tower had slightly lower air than below, but it was not very noticeable. I only breathed a little harder. And I believed it was from trepidation of the events that were to occur, instead of any lack of oxygen.

I determined that the building was the only logical place to go towards; if I was moved to the roof, and then given no further instruction, I guess the building seemed ideal. I moved towards it, holding my sword upright. The wind picked up and some snow fluttered across my vision. The building seemed bigger as I moved towards it. My sword wavered on the air a little, and then I saw a door on the building. As I moved closer I saw windows as well, and I thought that it looked so traditional. Like something built on the engine.

The door opened, and Rasputina stepped out, dressed in heavy furs. She looked at me, and then stepped from the doorway. In the opening I saw light, and movement, and then Bishop appeared, and followed her after closing the door behind him. He was wearing the same things I was, but he looked absolutely frozen. I could hear his teeth chattering as the wind brought it towards me. His haggard breath was the loudest thing aside from the wind, even their footsteps seemed inconsequential.

Rasputina stopped, and Bishop stopped at her side, and moved closer to her. She put an arm around him, and I saw immediately that they were family. Mother and son. “The engine had no part in this at all?” I asked.

“No,” Rasputina said, “But Bishop does know where to find information on the Carentans.”

I looked to Bishop for confirmation, and he nodded, but I also saw fear in his eyes, “How can I trust you?” I asked Rasputina.

“I don’t know,” She said. “I’m sorry, I never meant for it to come to this. When I acquired your freedom, I had meant to put it to use against the cryonauts below, but no one told me that you would be so human. Rakkard agreed with me, said that you were a weapon, but didn’t want me to let you go so easily. He knew that you knew Bishop, so I arranged for him to come over from the engine…”

“Who is Rakkard?” I asked, “Bishop? You’re not from the engine?”

Rasputina responded first, “Rakkard is the dark one that possessed me… I figured you would have known, but Bishop told me that the engine doesn’t have any dark ones, so that it wouldn’t be obvious.” And then she stepped forward and looked into my eye, and I saw that emptiness, that vacuum from before. I realized what it was that drew me in. “He’s angry now,” Rasputina said, “He wants me to kill you. But I need you to kill him. Bishop can’t, he’s not strong enough. But you’re a Carentan!”

She stepped back, and I saw a kind of dark substance drip from her mouth and then flow outwards into the air. It seemed liquid at first, but became gaseous as it was exposed to the air. Bishop held onto his mother and pulled her back, as the filth was dredged forth. Once she was emptied, she stumbled completely into Bishop’s arms, and he began to pull her away.

The darkness that had poured from her manifested itself. It grew tall, twice as tall as I, and made itself into a vaguely human form. It was like the image of someone behind a thick veil of smoke; except that the only thing there, was smoke. I saw its hands extend into long claws, and its back arch, so that it appeared more animal. When I looked at its head, I saw it as more spherical than a human head, and it stretched itself further and became more thin.

Then it lunged. It glided through the air, but never left the ground; its tendrils always remained latched, but never slowed it. I raised my sword instinctively, and it drew closer. I swung at it before it drew within three feet, and it pulled back to escape my swords reach. But it had a much longer reach than I had, I realized. Its arms were at least five times as long as my sword, and it could easily attack me if it wished.

It did. I raised my sword to defend myself, and the claws were cut to pieces against it. But the ends still grazed against my chest, and I fell backwards, gasping. I stood, trying with all my strength to prepare myself for another attack. It swung again and I tried to defend the same way, but it stopped short and then reached to my side. I swung my sword to the side and cut at the wrist, but the fingers still pulled against the palm, and the claws cut into my side.

I staggered and fell. The sword clattered to the ground in front of me, and I felt only pain. A pain worse than I had ever experienced before. It was a sharper pain than Livingston’s sword had caused; more painful than the disgrace of being exiled from my home.

I scrambled back to avoid another swing, and then the creature placed itself over my sword, so that it was completely outside of my reach. I felt my side and could feel smooth skin; so that I knew the wound had healed itself and I would not be losing more blood, and then I stood. I faced the creature that had possessed Rasputina, and prepared myself to die. I ran towards it, and it opened its arms wide to receive me.

I scooped my sword up, and fell into it, cutting the air. But I knew that it had been useless. It had opened itself too well, and I was now inside of its murkiness. I looked out but only saw the night. I fought it, and found it was turning to liquid again, and trying to get into my mouth. I shut my lips and swung the sword in a wild arc, hoping to catch something, and then swung it the other way. I saw that I opened a small fissure in its side, which closed quickly.

But this gave me hope, and I swung against it, my breath running out. I tried to move forward but it was hard. I swung back and forth in front of me, and moved forward against its force. I pushed myself through the final barrier and emerged on the other side.

I was again in the air, and opened my mouth to get a breath of air. I turned around, swinging my sword, hoping that I might cut it again where I had escaped through, but missed. It had moved itself away again, and now resembled a shorter figure, that more human in shape, save the legs which now merged into a long dress like shape.

I charged for it, now not fearing contact with its body, but only the claws. It made an attack, and I ducked, and spun around and cut at its claws, and then swung the sword into its chest. But I missed again, and could not see it.

I felt the pain it had caused in my side, but looked down and saw a claw extending from my stomach. It twitched, and I felt my insides shudder. It had gotten behind me, and I had not been able to see it happen. The claw twitched again, and then moved violently from side to side.

My torso dropped backwards onto the cold steel, and my legs dropped away from me in the other direction. I looked down at them, and saw redness seeping out. My sword still in my hand, I pointed it at the darkness that now loomed over me. I saw it descend upon me, and then all was blocked out as before. And I knew that it was going to kill me.

My eyes shut, and I held my lips closed against it, but I lost the willpower soon. I felt weak, and my lips were ripped open. The liquid rushed in as I tried to gasp for breath, and I felt my life leaving me.

And that is the last thing I remember before I wake up in the engine.

Sykport

Previously

The message left me with an ill feeling. I realized that it was written before I had even seen Bishop, and that whoever wrote it must have had some sort of foreknowledge that I would be contacted by Bishop. Yet, I had already made up my mind. I suppose that nothing they could have said would have changed my mind; I already knew that I was going to return to Rasputina.

Yet I also considered, before kicking the design of glass to pieces, how it was the man with the steel mask who had given it to me. He had later sent the men after me as well, and while I hadn’t heard him speak the second time I’d seen him, I also wondered if he was truly the same man as before. Perhaps the one who had given me the bottle was some lieutenant, and this one who had tried to kill me was another lieutenant, who dressed like the other because of the similar positions they both held.

It would seem like an easy way to remain anonymous in any kind of organization, so that you may even switch positions whenever you wanted to, and it would be hard for anyone to know when you had. It may present the problem of unqualified people taking on positions they were unprepared for, but if everyone in the organization was prepared for any position, it would seem to me that it would eliminate favoritism.

What if they were given masks whenever they showed up for duty, and whatever mask they received determined their job?

I thought about it, and then continued to the stairway that led up to the tunnel, and followed it to the end of the building. It was day time then, so that I could see the stretching pillars of building, going to the horizon from every direction I could see, sometime eclipsed by closer buildings that were by some luck taller than the one I was near. The sky was clearer than I’d ever seen it, and it was a morning sky. I saw the sun near a hill, and guessed that it was moving up the horizon rather than down.

I climbed the stairs up, and had an easier time at it than the descent, as it was so perfectly clear. There was no snow, no whipping wind. Just the stairs and I. I reached the top, and my legs were sore, but I walked into the jungle all the same. I was determined now, to see this Rasputina, to take this task that the engine had assigned for me.

Had it all been planned from the beginning, I wondered. Was it the engine’s plan all along to subject me to the journey that had given me my skills, and had revealed better my abilities? I was motivated as I stepped through the jungle, with Livingston’s sword in its sheath knocking against my leg, motivated to seek a name for myself, to seek who I was, out among these towers.

I came to the river and followed it back, all the way to the bridge that Arthur and I had crossed, and then continued to follow it until I came to the lake. The trees above still blocked out the sky, but more sunlight cut through their branches than before, and the lights on the trees were quite dim, and offered up little light at all. The gnats returned now, and assaulted me with fervor, but in my determination I suppose I just ignored them.

I took steps towards the lake and stood, confident. My hand rested on the hilt of Livingston’s sword, and I felt all the power of a man with direction, with drive. I had spent so much time running, that it felt good to have such a major and exciting goal.

I heard the lake monster roar at my proximity to the water, and took a few steps backwards.

Then I waited. I do not know why I stopped there. Perhaps I should have continued towards the metal side of the building, and there, searched for an entrance into the tower, but I decided against it. I thought that I would be detected as I stood by the lake.

Someone walked out of the forest; I hadn’t heard her, before, until she was only ten feet or so behind me. I turned and saw that same paradoxical beauty; the bright exterior, and the dark secret that lay within.

“So you’ve come back?” Rasputina asked. She walked forward until I could smell the perfume on her form. Under the perfume I smelled a darker thing.

“Yes,” I said. “I decided to try my luck here…” I said.

“Why did Livingston die?” She asked, “Why did you have to kill her?”

“She was trying to kill me,” I said. “I have saved her sword, if you want it.” I pulled the hilt with the sword inside, from my belt, and handed it to her. “I am sorry that your sister died, but I can’t make her better again.”

Rasputina looked at the lake for a second, and then said, “I need someone to go to the top of my tower. There is a dark one there, and no one I have sent up has ever returned.” Rasputina pulled the sword from the hilt and stared at its poisoned blade. I could see that she was fighting tears, but she was fighting well, for none appeared. “My sister was to go up and destroy it. You will take her place.”

I looked at Rasputina and she handed the sword to me without looking. “Follow me to the boarding rooms, I will see to it you eat and sleep, and then you will go to the elevator.”

“Yes,” I said, “Of course.”

There is little else to discuss. She led me, with hunched shoulders, through the forest until we arrived at the steel wall that must have been the side of the tower I had climbed down before. There was a sliding door set into the metal, and we entered it. The corridors were black floors and ceilings, and yellow walls. There were portraits hung, of Rasputina and Livingston, along these yellow walls. We did not see anyone as we walked these corridors, which turned and twisted, but never deviated. So that although we made sharp turns frequently, they were the only turns afforded by the architecture.

At the end of the long tunnel we came to a chamber room, which surprised me. It was not as large as the room that had held the escaped slaves, but it was similarly vast. I saw that it went straight up, and at the center of the room was a platform that was maybe twenty feet across, squared, and raised a couple hundred feet into the air. I could only see the bottom of it when we entered the room, but Rasputina called something into the air (it was in another language, I think, that I did not understand). The platform lowered, and I saw the first people I’d ever seen since we’d entered the building.

They were armed, with some of the most vicious weapons I’d seen in my entire life. Some of their armaments curled around their wrists, or glowed a bright red on their ends. “Step on,” Rasputina said. I was further transfixed by their weapons; as I stepped onto the platform with Rasputina I saw them closer, and noticed a dark mist pouring from the cracks in the plates. I would say that some of them more resembled animals than rifles, but from their shapes and the way the men held them, that the weapons were intended to kill.

The men themselves were unremarkable. There was nothing that made me think that they were unlike Rasputina, or anyone else I’d ever seen. I supposed that they were guards from their weapons, and the stances they held.

The platform rose after a second, and one of the guards, whose weapon seemed to breathe, said something to Rasputina in that language which I could not understand. She seemed to ask a question, which the guard answered. She looked over at me, and behind her amber eyes I saw a dark veil behind them, a gulf that seemed to want to pull me into it. I broke eye contact, and she said nothing.

This platform rose and then stopped. I saw a doorway across from us, and a catwalk extended across the gulf. The catwalk was most similar to the one I had seen in the room where I had directly spoken to the engine, it was only two feet across, so we had to walk single file; one guard and Rasputina ahead of me, and the two guards behind me. We stepped across it, and I looked down at the floor below. I lost my balance for a second, and one of the guards grabbed my arm and held it until I reasserted myself against gravity. “Careful,” he warned.

Rasputina turned around and asked, again in the language I could not understand, what had happened. The guard who had saved me replied, and she said, “Yes, watch your step.”

I nodded, and moved more carefully along it, until we entered that door and were again in passageways like those that we had entered from the jungle. All of our footsteps echoed loudly in my ears, and I can still hear it today, a clear succession of footfalls lasting forever in my memory.

After moving again forward and never coming to a place where we were given a choice to turn left or right, we arrived at a place where the corridor widened, and raised itself up, to admit my sight to three doors.

“You may enter through the third door,” Rasputina said. “The one on the far right.”

“Yeah,” I said, and walked to it. I opened it by twisting its knob, and found my room from earlier. The window was now welded shut, and the book Sykport was where I had left it, resting on the uneven sheets.

Next

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Excuse me if I am becoming sloppy. This is not ending as well as I had hoped it would.)