Chapter 23: Testify

  Miya rolled out of her cot, eyes struggling to open. Blurg. She staggered over to their makeshift kitchenette off to the side, following the smell of fresh coffee from the techies. Rob, like his brother, may have been too energetic for even strong coffee to have any benefit, but Amanda’s taste was impeccable. And, as Miya learned when she bothered to check the label and found her eyes bulging out of her skull, pricey. Girl, half your diet is instant noodles, what the hell? Whatever.

  She poured herself a cup from the half remaining pot, letting it warm her hands as she began the slow process of her morning boot up. Maybe I could just go back to sleep. That would be nice. I wouldn’t have to think, then. An exhausted Olivia with dark rings under her eyes joined her soon after.

  “Good morning. You alright?” asked Miya.

  “What? Oh, I’m fine,” said Olivia. She covered her mouth to conceal a huge yawn.

  “Really?” asked Miya, eyebrow raised as Olivia’s yawn continued.

  Olivia finally closed her mouth. “I’m just a little tired. I couldn’t sleep last night; Amanda and Rob had some metal grinding thing going all night. And there were cars driving by every now and then.”

  Miya fought back a yawn of her own and said, “Do you think you’re going to be able to fly tonight? We’ll be leaving once the techies are done if everything goes well.”

  “Oh, um, yeah. I can.”

  “You’re not going to fall asleep midair, are you?” asked Miya with a light smile.

  “I can do it,” insisted Olivia with a small frown.

  Miya nudged her with her elbow. “I’m just teasing you.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Olivia stifled another yawn. She shot a concerned look over at Ben over her scaled hand.

  Miya followed her gaze to the man organizing their ammo and magazines. He kept rubbing the remaining knuckles through the bandages when he thought no one was looking. She looked away and pretended not to hear when a magazine slipped from his hand and hit the table. Yeah, I don’t think that devil may care attitude is going to last forever.

  Amanda barged in, holding an iron needle fresh from the forge out back with both hands. Several wires dangled from the blunt end. “Hey, jackass, get this thing plugged in,” she called out to Ben.

  “Sure thing, hon. We almost ready?” answered Ben.

  “Yeah, just got to touch up the power distribution,” said Amanda.

  “Says the electric techie,” said Ben with a grin.

  “Hey,” said Amanda as she relinquished her grip on the needle. “I’d like to see you do it.” Oh, hey, these two sniping at each other. I haven’t seen this in a while. A whole day, almost.

  “Says the electric techie,” repeated Ben.

  “I’m going to stab you, says the electric techie,” said Amanda as she walked out of the door, flipping Ben off over her shoulder.

  “Should we help with anything?” Olivia asked aloud, looking between Ben and Amanda. What’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about? I’m just waiting for the green light so we can fix you up and get out of here. No idea where we’re going to go, but we can figure it out outside of city limits.

  “I’m sure they’ve got it,” answered Miya, shooting a glance at Chris, looking as bored as she felt with his phone in hand. Everything else seems to be done. Olivia yawned wide a third time. “Are you absolutely sure you won’t fall asleep in the middle of your flight and plummet to the ground?” asked Miya.

  “Yes, um, maybe.”

  Rob burst in from the back door. “Let’s get this party started!” Amanda followed right after him. The techies strode over to their tracker zapper. Olivia took a deep breath. Oh, she’s nervous.

  Miya reached up to pat her on the back. Fuck, you’re tall. “We’ve got you, don’t worry.” Oliva flashed a grateful smile down to her.

  Chris called out, “Rob, Ben, this might be important.” He flashed the screen of his phone as he beckoned them over. “I saw a familiar mask on the thumbnail while I was reading the news.”

  What, the smiley masks those two wear? Interest piqued, they broke from the tracker zapper and gathered around him, gazing intently at the phone. Two anchors, a white-haired old man and a young woman, sat behind a desk with unwavering smiles.

  “-government has announced the loss of Baghdad to the terrorist leader known as Taauth,” said the male anchor.

  “The US has ordered the withdrawal of troops around the Baghdad area.” Rob and Ben exchanged glances. “This news comes after a week of sudden heavy fighting in the city. It is unknown where Taauth’s organization came from, or even what the man himself looks like. The only image of him so far is here.”

  An image filled the screen. A man in ordinary clothes stood in front of a large pile of stone, one hand raised as if blessing it. Except the towering stone pile happened to be in the process of pummeling through the walls of a building, if the chunks of concrete flying outward were any indication.

  “The fuck?” said Ben and Rob simultaneously. The man wore the exact same grinning comedy mask that they wore.

  “Shit, think Sam got out?” asked Rob.

  “Dunno,” said Ben.

  “Sam? Your other triplet?” asked Amanda.

  “Yeah. He’s workin’ in the Middle East right now. Black ops shit for Lock Corp,” answered Rob.

  “Hm. I thought you guys would have been interested in the mask thing,” said Miya from behind them.

  “From what I can find, he only appeared a week ago, and the first thing he did was destroy an Army convoy,” added Chris.

  “Captured?” asked Rob. The military isn’t an easy target.

  “Destroyed. Slagged. Gone.”

  “Yeah, that’s also concerning. I don't wanna be wearin’ the face of a guy like that,” said Ben.

  “Damn it, we had the thing first,” said Rob.

  “I’m really not sure what’s going on here,” said Amanda. “That’s a Greek theater mask, and Taauth doesn’t sound like an Arab name.” I wouldn’t have thought of that, but now that she mentions it, that is really weird.

  Rob and Ben exchanged glances again. “We’ll try to get back in contact with Sam,” said Rob. “Fuck, he’s half a world away. Not sure what we can do. Don’t got the money for plane tickets.”

  The phone auto played the next segment, catching their attention again. “In other news, last night there was a mass breakout at the feral research institute.”

  “At least twenty of the staff have been confirmed dead, and many others wounded. It is not yet known how this outbreak occurred, but officials are investigating.” The smiles on the anchors’ faces never wavered.

  “At least seven ferals are reported missing. Two are classified as highly dangerous.”

  Two pictures popped up on the screen. One appeared to be a stretched torso with eight legs sticking out to either side, covered entirely in dark brown hair. “Steve,” said the caption.

  The other was a chaotic mass of concentric metal bands. I really can’t tell what the fuck is going on in that picture. “And Slinky.” Wait, Olivia and Chris fought that thing to get out?

  “If you see any of these ferals, please contact the authorities below with the number on your screen.”

  The camera angle shifted as the anchors moved on to a new story. “Later today, a possible new alien contact ship was spotted over the Dallas area, but first, a special report.”

  The other anchor continued. “In a disturbing new trend, teens are now using complex interpretive dances to signal to other teens that they are willing to have sex.”

  Chris shut off his phone and slipped it into his pocket. “That sounds like not our problem. Ben, Rob, thoughts on Taauth?”

  “Don’t give much of a damn about him, but like I said, we’ll call Sam,” said Rob. “Dunno if he’ll pick up.”

  “Haven’t heard shit from him for a while.”

  “Are you two good?” asked Chris.

  Ben shrugged. “Yeah, we’ll have plenty of time on the road out of here.”

  “That’s,” Chris paused, eyes going distant for a second. Not what you were asking? He sighed and said, “Alright. Amanda, Rob, are you two ready?”

  Amanda gave the brothers a strange look before saying, “Yes. Give us a couple minutes to set up.”

  They set up their operating table, which was to say a basic cot and pillow, directly next to a desk covered in wires. Olivia lay face down on the cot, limbs flopping off the sides. The techies busied themselves with the last of their preparations, jamming the power cable in a nearby wall outlet and testing connections.

  “Alright, Olivia, it’s very important that you keep as still as possible. None of us are surgeons, and we’re going to be close to the spinal column,” explained Amanda. She adjusted an antenna clamped to the edge of the table to point at Olivia. “Don’t worry, this only receives, not transmits. It’s already tuned to the tracker. Once I see that the signal is gone, we’re done, simple as that.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Olivia swallowed hard and nodded. Miya squeezed her shoulder and said, “I’ll watch and guide, don’t worry.” Miya reached for her magic, viewing the lattice just beneath Olivia’s skin.

  Of all the tools man used to understand the world, none were more important than the eyes. Even if reduced to abstract symbols like writing or mathematics, the vast majority of humans saw to understand. And thus did sight form the backbone of human magic. For all her nerves, Olivia’s muscles remained relaxed and still, save for the hand that gripped one of the legs of the cot. Miya sifted through the dizzying array of magic streams, most delicate, some powerful, to the ones around the tracker. This has to be instinctual, there’s no way she’s focusing on all this all the time.

  She found the tracker, a comparatively small dot on what took Miya a moment to recognize as a vertebra. The iron, magically inert, sloughed off any attempt to perceive it. She found it only by its absence. Magic itself can’t do anything to it, but maybe the surrounding flesh can. We can just skip the techie gadget. Miya took a deep breath. Just as humans used sight to perceive the world, so too did they speak to communicate, to express and influence.

  “Crush this little bug,” she spat. Clumsy words to others, but others didn’t matter. The words were for Miya, not them.

  The reaction of the magic streams within Olivia was both instant and unpleasant. Rather than reorienting as she ordered it, the stream snapped towards her. Miya recoiled as what appeared as a bright flash of light hit her in the right eye, yet it carried weight.

  “You OK?” asked Amanda, looking up from her laptop turned control panel.

  “I’m fine,” replied Miya, blinking her aching eye. Blood pulsed into the socket, and the skin swelled. How does light bruise? She dove back in. “I found it. You’re good to start.”

  Rob grabbed the sharpened iron probes and wiped them down with rubbing alcohol. Like the tracker, she could only see them by their absence, but they brushed aside the weave that turned Olivia’s skin to unassuming armor. Miya was able to guide them once they pierced the skin, dodging any major blood vessels or nerves. Olivia let out a low hiss but remained still. Rob’s strong and steady hands followed Miya’s instructions to the millimeter, until the probes rested to either side of the tracker.

  “There,” said Miya, feeling sweat build on the back of her neck.

  Amanda flipped a switch. Though it wasn’t biological, Miya could still tell electricity, energy, coursed through the area.

  “It didn’t work,” announced Amanda. Rob froze with the probes, halfway to withdrawing them. Miya heard a squeak as the metal in Olivia’s hand crumpled, though the rest of her body remained perfectly still. “Turning the power up.”

  Amanda hit a few keys and entered. Once Rob got the probes back into position, she hit the switch again. Electricity arced once more, this time damaging some small number of cells. Miya spotted Olivia’s fingers and toes convulse, though within her she could see no change. Those weird looking cells in the spine are really close. Those are the nerves, I think. The group held their collective breath as Amanda checked the receiver.

  “We’re good.”

  Olivia released the twisted metal in her hand as she sighed in relief. Thank God. Rob withdrew the probes as Amanda moved to shut off all power to them. Miya cleaned up the few drops of blood from the back of her neck and stuck a pair of band-aids over the holes.

  “You’re good to go,” said Miya, patting her on the shoulder.

  Olivia sat up and immediately pulled Miya and an approaching Ben into a mercifully brief bear hug.

  “That was it, huh?” said Miya, once she could breathe again.

  “We just got two techies to work for three days straight and got a mage to spot check everythin’. That was the hard part,” pointed out Ben. “That’s some world class shit for anyone else.”

  “Olivia, how are you feeling?” asked Chris.

  “I’m OK. My neck is a bit weird and sore, but I’ll be OK.”

  “Do you think you’re good to travel?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “Alright, let’s pack up and head out before someone finds us here. The west coast is nice this time of year, I’ve heard.”

  ***

  Miya finished breaking down the cot and tossed it in the office used as storage. Finally leaving this shithole. Actually, this didn’t even take too long. No complaints here.

  “I feel like we’re almost ready to leave. Do you think Rob and Amanda will be done packing up soon?” she asked Chris as she passed him.

  “I just asked Amanda. She thinks so,” he said over his shoulder as he carried the last cot in.

  Wonderful. She looked around the warehouse. Amanda had taken the time out of her busy schedule to pack up all but one of her computers. The desks she’d used were now pushed up against a wall. That’s the last of it. Miya joined Olivia as they waited for the techies out back to pack the last of their gear.

  “How’s your neck?” asked Miya.

  “Fine,” replied Olivia. “It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. The needle things, I mean, the zappy part wasn’t fun.”

  “I bet.”

  A familiar heavy knock froze everyone in their tracks. Shit. We were almost gone. Fuck off, Roach! “Ben, check on the techies,” ordered Chris. With a nod, Ben teleported off. Miya hung back, keeping out of the way as Chris approached the front door. They’re probably pissed off about that shootout yesterday. Right after they asked us not to do something like that. Fuck.

  From around Chris’s shoulder, she spotted two figures in the doorway, one short, broad, and scarred, the other tall and wearing a full brim black hat. He wore a soul patch on his chin, despite having only a few years of age on Miya. Though physically relaxed, his eyes shifted from one target to another, never lingering for more than a moment. Both wore a patch on their shirt, a black shield with an open white eye. Uh oh, that’s Preacher with Roach. Where is Quarrel? A quick glance past them into the afternoon sun didn’t show her.

  “Preacher!” she called out in warning. “Chris, out of the way.”

  Chris sidestepped, shooting Miya a questioning glance. Preacher, meanwhile, noticed the pistol in Miya’s hands. She kept it pointed towards the floor, at the same time kept her feet apart in a firing stance as she came to a stop. Roach shouldered his way in front of Preacher, blocking Miya off from him.

  “Miya?” asked Chris.

  “He has vocal mind control. He’s part of the Watch here.” Chris gave a small frown and reached for the knife he had in his belt, out of sight of their two guests.

  “You are the ones that tangled with the Tzontlis yesterday, yes?” asked Preacher.

  “So what if we did?”

  Roach rasped, “I asked you to not do anything stupid.”

  Oh fuck off. “Is Quarrel here?” she asked.

  Preacher nodded. “We’re just here to talk,” he said slow and clear.

  Chris cleared his throat and said, “Roach, who is Quarrel?”

  Roach didn’t respond. Instead, Preacher said, “She is the third member of the Phoenix Watch. She is keeping an eye on us. We believe that we can help each other. You’ve stepped into something far larger than a simple gang. All we ask is that you listen. I cannot affect all of you at once.”

  “I believe you because?” asked Miya.

  “Because we came here in good faith for a simple talk.”

  “Good faith? Quarrel is about to shoot me,” said Miya, gesturing to the pistol in her hand. Can a crossbow shoot through a wall? Quarrel’s probably can.

  “Good faith is not stupidity.” Preacher’s mouth hung half opened, conflict playing across his face. “There are only three of us,” he admitted. “We came to warn you.”

  The back door squeaked open. Footsteps came to a stop a moment later, presumably at the sight of their showdown. “Nothin’ out back. You lot gettin’ along?” asked Ben.

  Chris nodded. “Ben, can you grab the others?” He shot a pointed look at the Watch. “All of us.” No, why? Just let us leave.

  “Yessah,” replied Ben as he left again. Miya kept an eye on Preacher as he waved to a building across the street behind him. A woman with an unfortunate combination of large forehead and astonishingly weak chin approached. At her hip bounced a quiver with a dozen crossbow bolts.

  Miya leaned in and hissed to Chris under her breath. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing what they know,” he muttered under his breath, shooting her a confused look. What could these idiots possibly know that we don’t at this point? “You don’t stroll up for a fight if you’re outnumbered two to one like they just did. Besides, the Watch usually has good people, even if they’re amateurs.” Fine. That makes enough sense that I’m not going to talk you out of this.

  A few minutes later, after everyone convened in the warehouse and introduced to one another, Preacher spoke again, “Thank you for meeting with us.”

  “What’s this about?” asked Rob with a frown.

  “We need help, pure and simple,” said Quarrel.

  Miya glanced at Quarrel’s goggles. I can’t tell if she’s lying or not. Actually, I can’t tell shit about her, she’s always been a spooky one. Quarrel’s head twitched in Miya’s direction when she noticed her gaze and ran a thumb along one of the heavier crossbow bolts in her quiver.

  “Tzontlis,” croaked the large Aztec man next to her. He scratched at the enormous white gash on his throat.

  “Yes. No doubt you’ve seen the bright green skull tags. The government is trying to keep the news covered, but the Tzontlis have control of a good quarter of the city and show no signs of slowing. The MHU is on the defensive,” said Preacher.

  “We’ve been doing what we can, but we’re always outgunned,” added Quarrel. “There’s always so many of them.”

  “Only three of you?” asked Ben.

  “No new blood,” said Preacher. “More and more kids go out to the Federal Academy nowadays.”

  “Why do we care? You caught us literally right before we were about to leave,” said Rob. Something, something, Overlord. That’s all I know.

  “Hear him out,” said Chris.

  “The gang itself appeared sometime in early December, then in February they expanded rapidly.”

  “Found something,” said Roach.

  “Yes. We found something in one of our raids. It was a gravitational bomb.”

  “A what?” asked Amanda.

  “A gravitation-” Preacher began to repeat.

  “Yeah, heard that. What does that mean?”

  “Gravity is distorted when it’s used,” said Quarrel.

  “One step. Hundred feet in the air,” rasped Roach.

  “It was less of a bomb and more of a reality warping generator, but the officers who arrived first called it a bomb, so that’s what everyone’s been calling it since,” said Preacher. “The point is that Overlord is involved with the Tzontlis.”

  Beside Miya, Olivia stiffened at the mention of Overlord, watching the Watch members like a hawk.

  “Wait, wait, what powers they got?” asked Ben.

  “Three supers: Shotty and Buzz are two hitmen and Vaca is a smuggler.” Doesn’t Vaca mean cow in Spanish?

  “Does Shotty use a shotgun?” asked Ben with a grin.

  “Yes, he does. A massive, homemade thing that would break most people’s arms if they tried to shoot it. So far as we’re aware, they don’t have a techie. Especially not one that can warp gravity on such a large scale. Only Overlord could make something like this and get it out here.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right,” said Rob.

  Preacher blinked. Him, Roach and quarrel exchanged glances. “You knew?”

  “Well, we knew Don was working with Overlord,” said Miya.

  “Just like back in Westward. Overlord workin’ with a gang, pumpin’ them with guns and supplies,” said Ben.

  “Oh,” said Preacher, leaning back in his chair as he collected his thoughts. “That’s news to us. You seem better informed than we are. Don, really?”

  “Yep,” replied Miya.

  “Mages aren’t typically of interest to Overlord. He’s far more interested in his stable of techies.”

  “He’s trying to combine the two specialties,” said Miya softly.

  Chris saved her from having to elaborate by asking, “Do you know how far along Overlord’s plan are here.”

  “We don’t. He certainly has an interest in what goes on here,” said Preacher.

  “They have robots. We’ve fought them before,” said Quarrel.

  “Oh shit, not just one?” asked Ben.

  “What’d they look like?” asked Rob.

  “Yes, about four that we’ve seen at once. From a distance they look like ordinary men, but with a screaming face. We couldn’t tell it was a robot until Quarrel shot it.”

  “Didn’t bleed,” rasped Roach. “Was strong, too.”

  Rob and Amanda exchanged troubled glances. “Yeah, that’s sounds like what we saw. You’re a techie, right?” Rob asked Quarrel. She nodded. “Your thoughts?”

  “I wanted to take it apart, I know that much. I don’t know anything about robotics, but that was a piece of art. We honestly thought it was someone with a brick power until Roach got right up next to it.”

  “Do you guys smell that?” asked Olivia.

  The Watch seemed confused at the non-sequitur, but Ben, Amanda, and Chris immediately reached for their weapons.

  “Smell what?” asked Chris.

  Olivia shot upright, wings snapping out and claws unfurling. The Watch, for all their apparent calm, instantly reached for their own weapons with their eyes locked on her. “Oil,” hissed Olivia, staring at the ceiling.