=== Chapter 14: Her Master's Voice ===
Orgon blinked in surprise as his wall screen froze, a 'connection lost' symbol at its centre. The display updated, producing a warning he'd only seen in simulations.
# Electronic warfare defences active; room sealed. External comms offline. Backup O2 active: 9.7 kiloseconds remaining. #
At the same moment, the main lights went out, leaving the room in shadows. Moments later the emergencies flickered on, a pale illumination from one of the ceiling panels, but everything else was dead. The silence was total; even the subliminal hum of the recirculating fans had faded to nothing. The Sector Chief sniffed, his muzzle wrinkling. Is that smoke? He pushed back from his desk, ears going straight up as the floor shivered under his paws. The silence was replaced by the rumble of distant thunder, and he glanced briefly at the ceiling. The noise, a long, drawn-out basso-profondo groan, like that of a waterfall or some giant, out of tune set of organ pipes, went on and on, showing no sign of stopping.
He looked down at his comms bracer, which resembled a civilian model, but actually concealed a level of computing power and capability on par with a portable ground station. It still functioned, although it was complaining mightily about the loss of its crystal thaumic quantum processor array, and its inability to connect to any nodes other than his desk. Orgon stood up and strode to the door, frowning as the armoured portal failed to open at his approach. This room is specially shielded, he thought, carefully touching the smooth ceramic surface of the door.
The material was warm to the touch and getting hotter; hot enough that he could feel the radiated heat on the furless tip of his muzzle. Hissing with displeasure, he put his bracer into search mode. Anything with a significant cable run has been affected. These walls, with their kilolengths of woven superconductor shielding... Somewhere behind that wall, ferocious eddy currents had quenched the fine wires and melted them to molten slag at Maker-knows what temperature, and the path of least resistance for the heat was right into this room. That explains the smell. At least it saved this one's comms from that fate... and his arm. He glanced at the display of the device, its output now restricted to a patch of electrochromic polymer half the size of his paw. Not that there is anything to it to connect to. Orgon thought for a second, then carefully loosened the catches holding the machine in place.
From the other side of the armoured door to his office came a muffled pounding, then the sound of his personal assistant's voice raised in protest. He raised an eyebrow at that, then took a step back from the door. A flex of a paw put his nondescript bracer into a mode that no civilian model ever had, his claws curling around to find the unobtrusive control that, to all but the most careful laboratory examination, appeared purely decorative. Within the supposedly solid casing, made from what appeared to be a single sculpted slab of high end fullerene composite, shapes of nanostructured carbon silently twisted and moved, opening a millilength wide port in the front of the bracer.
Innocuous crystal grain boundaries split apart throughout the device, opening channels and cavities where before there had been none, allowing the now apparent mechanical components to move and connect with each other. Bars, wheels and levers grasped the first of a score of diamondoid needles, defect free devices themselves packed with complex fullerene machinery, and placed it in an atomically perfect barrel that terminated at that tiny port. Behind it lay a dense-packed cylinder of carbon nanotubes, millions upon millions of microscopic springs that far outperformed those made by even the very best alloys, compressed by tremendous forces and held confined by walls of diamond, ready to be released at a touch.
There was a slight vibration, felt where the bracer rested against the bones of his wrist. Orgon's smile widened slightly. That still works. No matter what the enemy could do to electronic or thaumic systems, his personal weapon was a purely mechanical device made only of carbon atoms placed in novel and interesting ways, and completely resistant to any form of subversion. There was enough strain energy in what passed for his gun's propellant to punch those perfect needles through a gryphon's armour at close range and, once inside something soft, more nanotube springs would turn the projectile into a miniature grenade. He bent his arm at the elbow, pointing the now lethal weapon at the door, and waited.
Moments later there was a groan, and the heavy door was limed with faint flickers of pearly radiance. Little cracking and tinkling noises, the quiet noises of microcracks propagating through armour ceramic, made his ears twitch, and he moved a little further away. There was a sharp bang, then the door flew back into its recess, letting in a flood of white light.
There was a shape in that light, a quadrupedal shadow behind a point of eye-aching brilliance. An instant later the glare died, revealing the swaying form of Merlon, breathing heavily and looking back at him with tired eyes. Behind her was a trail of wreckage, of equipment packs grabbed in haste and doors passed through without actually being opened. "Master," the mare said, swallowing heavily and coughing as she tried to get enough air to form a coherent sentence, "the rogue is--"
"Here. Yes, that much is obvious." Orgon strode forwards, disarming his shape-shifting weapon and nearly colliding with the pony as she hurriedly backed away. The air in the outer room, harsh with the toxic odours of incomplete combustion and burned fur, made his muzzle wrinkle. He waved sharply at Farinar, his secretary-cum-bodyguard -- not part of the job that usually called for much effort, what with the combined skills of Merlon and Orgon himself -- currently crouched behind his desk. "What is our response?"
Farinar, a slender, pale-furred male, stood up and dropped the contents of the emergency kit he'd been rooting through on the desk. He held one paw up to his chest, keeping the angry-looking burn on his forearm out of the way. "There has been no direct contact, Sector Chief. This one has sent runners, but it will take time for them to return." As he spoke, Farinar pulled out a pair of masks, passing one to Orgon before slipping the cone-shaped bag over his own muzzle and face. "Your servitor disobeyed a direct order to--"
Orgon cut him off with a sharp cutting gesture, turning to the pony. "Report; what does Merlon see?"
"There were two of them. They appeared without warning in a hangar just above deck twenty and released some kind of thaumic pulse, very similar to the counter surveillance magics taught to Security ponies." Her ears folded back and she flinched away from something that Orgon couldn't sense. Moments later there was a sudden redoubling of the sound and vibration, as if they were at the bottom of a barrel into which pebbles were being poured. "There are almost no working crystal thaumic devices left within a kilolength," Merlon said, when the noise died enough to allow speech. She pawed the ground, plastic shod hooves almost silent against the carpeted surface. "Master, I cannot guarantee your safety."
The pony has never been anything except supremely confident. The thought was like ice down Orgon's back and he gritted his teeth, then nodded. "Understood. This one needs to connect with any surviving forces." He glanced down at his bracer, noting with some surprise that it had found hundreds of comms devices and was busy mapping the rapidly expanding mesh network. Perhaps this won't be a complete disaster, after all. Must have been enough of the People in shielded rooms. Amid the lists of contacts were designators for the response units and a number of Agents, along side all the regular Security personnel. As he watched, clusters of names vanished, all People from the same departments. "What did the pony mean, 'were'?" Orgon said, distracted by the display.
"I can only see one of them now, Master. There was a pulse of magic... I've not seen anything like it before."
"This one thought that might be the case. Could the pony replicate the spell?"
Merlon's ears folded back and she shivered. "I'm sorry, Master. It was a long way away, and I--"
Orgon grunted, looking disappointed, then waved one paw. "Do not worry," he said, "keep watching them. Still no connection with the outside world; this one will have to get fresh nodes into the deep tunnels. For a second he scrolled through the active comms list, hunting for a clue as what to do next, then Orgon nodded slowly. "The whole Pit is affected; our only chance is the heavy equipment at the bottom of the shaft. If these ones can keep the rogues pinned down, then it will give Arclight time to get here." He started towards the door, followed closely by Merlon and Farinar, who looked distinctly unhappy at sharing so much floor space with the servitor. "Take Orgon to the hangar bays," he ordered, busy tapping out commands on his bracer, as the group trotted away from his office and into the noisy, smoky corridor beyond.
===
High above the darkened countryside, Fusion materialised in a flash of white light, Redshift cradled in her telekinesis. The cold air whipped through her mane and tail, feeling wonderful where it seeped between the plates of her barding. Eyes closed, she allowed herself fall, letting Redshift go and pushing her wings out through their carapace panels. The sudden exposure of so much flank to the rapidly strengthening wind ran through her like a deep draught of icy water.
"Gravity tried to prepare me, but nothing can match..." Redshift fell at her side, a silhouette in the shadow world, only marked out by his horn and the magically active inclusions in his wings.
Fusion stirred uncomfortably. His tone of voice was wrong; what should have been shock or trembling fear was actually awe. "I'm sorry if it was too--"
"No, it's not that at all!" he said, laughing and turning a quick corkscrew in the air. "It just confirms everything Grav showed me... for you to do all that must mean we do the Maker's work." His voice turned earnest, the deadly seriousness of a pony with absolute conviction. "I had my doubts, and I'm sorry for that, but what you just showed me... the light, so much light. Even the Masters named you Celestia... Celestia -- I can't think of a more fitting name."
She winced, and for a moment was back in that room, kneeling on the rubble-strewn floor before Salrath, smelling the burned electronics and feeling the knife as it-- Fusion swallowed hard, fighting to get her breathing under control. "Yes," she said weakly. "There is something going on that I don't understand, something out there that is helping us--"
"The Maker!"
Is it? Whatever it is has an agenda, and I'm not sure it really cares about us. "Well I... I don't know, Redshift. I..." Who am I to say otherwise, if it helps him through this? He might even be right.
Still with her eyes closed, Fusion studied the horizon with her shadow sight. The distant haze of the closest of Lacunae Hive's arcologies filled one quadrant with a luminescent fog of crystal thaumic systems, extending both above and below the ground. On either side the world was dark, the sky and ground the deep black of an unlit tunnel, and only lightly dusted with little chains of stars. Directly behind--
Violet light pulsed and surged from a point source that would have been too bright to look at, had she been using physical sight. Fusion reached out, sharing magic feeling for that oh-so familiar touch of her sister's mind. The connection blinked open--
--battered and scarred walls rushing past, very close, the scent of vapourised metals and burned flesh filling her nostrils. The crack of mass-driver fire and the monochromatic flash of laser light, overlain by the rumble-groan of explosions and failing masonry--
Sister! Gravity sent, and the sheer happiness in the mare's mental tone made Fusion feel slightly cold inside. Is everything going to plan?
We are en route and should be there in a few hundred seconds... don't take any stupid risks, okay? If I feel you are in trouble...
A little of the enthusiasm bled away. I know, and I will do the same for you. They have not tried to get any aircraft down the shaft again, after I destroyed the first ones, but there are plenty already here. There was a pause, and the connection wavered slightly as something detonated nearby, making Gravity hiss with pain, then her thoughts returned, just as strong as before. I wonder if Salrath is here. I might have killed her already. There was a vague sense of disappointment with the idea.
Fusion shivered slightly, turning the idea over in her mind. In a way, I hope not.
Yes, I know what you mean. I don't want her to die like that... I want to look into her eyes when she finally realises that all of this can be laid at her paws. Only then-- the thoughts broke off, replaced by a flash of rage and brief, distorted images of a biped being slowly pulled apart.
She haunts my dreams, Fusion thought. Gravity's imagined revenge made her feel a little ill, but was horribly attractive. I won't be happy until I know she's gone. The mare sighed, then brought her mind back to what they had planned. There will be more aircraft; we have to assume they will use that magic suppressor again. It might not take long to--
Then you'd better hurry, hadn't you? Gravity's thoughts turned to other things and, in the stream of sensory impressions coming down the sharing, Fusion felt the mare leap, bursting through a wall and filling the compartment beyond with brutal forces that shredded anything identifiable in an instant.
"Be safe, Gravity," she murmured, allowing the connection to narrow to a distant murmur at the back of her head, then blinked¸ rolling her eye in Redshift's direction. She smiled, trying to keep the fatigue from showing, twisting her wings to alter the curve of her descent.
He followed suit, his own grin fading. "Fusion... I didn't see much, but... did you collapse, back there? Are you feeling okay?"
"A little tired, but I'll be fine." More than a little. "What about you -- are you okay?"
"I feel ashamed," he said, all the exultant joy of the previous seconds gone. "I hid while you did all the work. I wanted to help, but I was so scared." His ears were folded back and, inside the clear hemispheres covering his eyes, she could see tears darken the fur of his cheeks. His barding was subtly scored from crest to half way down his back, the fine cats-claw scratch marks of high velocity fragment strikes marking where he had curled up in the face of the hangar battle.
Fusion frowned at this, but the marks were quite minor and hardly visible from more than a few metres away. "There's no shame in that... at the start, I was afraid all the time." Still am. So many other ponies in harm's way. "This was not a battle you could have helped with. Without our strange brand of power... You did very well... the first fight is always the worst." And you've not really had one of your own, yet, have you, Fusion? "Are you ready for the next bit?" She turned over and angled towards Naraka. Her speed built, Redshift struggling to keep up until she reached out and pulled him along.
"I want to see my little colt again... how could I not be ready?" The tremor in his voice was still there, but suppressed, controlled by a measure of determination. "Even after the sharings with Gravity--" He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a great, gasping breath. "I didn't imagine it would be like that."
"No." They flew on in silence for a hundred wingbeats and Fusion let her body cool from its exertions. "They seem to have limitless resources for war. I wish we could find a compromise with the Dogs... but that can't happen while they hold our kin. The gryphons, though... I want to spare as many as I can, but they seem to be very loyal. I only hope Gravity gave them a chance." She stared into the slipstream, eyes narrowed, and accelerated, her mind reaching for Lilac in their distant mountain hideaway.
The young stallion was waiting for her, and grabbed onto the contact with all the relief of a flyer pulling out of a flat spin just in time. You are all okay? Is Gravity okay? With the fast, urgent babble, came an image of stone walls, still cold and coated with fine layers of hoar frost from the energy-draining magics used in their construction. There were three other ponies with him; Packet, forelegs held rigid by slim braces and straps, and Ogive, one side of her a livid, furless pink. There was a distinct odour of cooked flesh, despite all the medical efforts over the previous day, but Ogive seemed to be awake and was watching the last pony, Trocar, work on her wing, a slightly vacant expression on her lopsided face. There was a gasp, loud enough to echo off the stone walls of their new tunnels, and Fusion knew Lilac had opened a sharing with Gravity.
We are all fine, Fusion sent, while Gravity grunted indistinctly, busy doing something violent inside a collection of narrow passageways. Some of the distant events leaked through via Lilac; the choking smell of burned flesh and plastics, only kept at bay by a field of violet magic about the other mare's body. Fusion pushed the information away, knowing that she would only get distracted by worry. Lilac... don't look too closely at what Gravity is doing.
N-no, came the shaky reply, it's okay. I've seen similar things in the infirmary.
Something twisted inside Fusion. "No, it's not okay," she whispered, teeth clenched and fighting to keep the accompanying thought to herself. It's not okay that you should be exposed to this. It's not okay that-- She took a deep breath. You've had no foalhood at all, Lilac, and now we've dragged you into this.
...and what would my future have been, Fusion? Lilac thought.
She flinched, realising that the last thought had leaked into the sharing. Not good, I suppose.
No. I asked Trocar about that. He didn't want to say, but I pushed... The place is like the inner parts of Naraka; you are in for the duration, until you are more useful dead than alive. There was a feeling of the youngster getting stiffly to his hooves, magic flowing over his paralysed hindquarters like oil. I hardly remember my parents, and none of the ponies at the Institute were allowed to really talk to me. This-- He swept one wing with its collection of clipped feathers in a wide arc, encompassing the wounded ponies and the dimly lit artificial cavern, the far end filled with neatly stacked cubes of stone, each half a length on a side. --despite everything, is still better. I have friends now.
I just wish it could be different, but it's not. Fusion shook herself vigorously, yawing violently for a few seconds. Sorry. Are you ready? I want you to contact Scalar and the others, and keep a check on all of us. If anypony goes dark--
I remember.
He sounded a little irritated, and Fusion smiled slightly. I know. See you soon. "We have to get going," she called out to Redshift. "The teleport spell is different enough that I won't risk using it where it might attract attention."
"Yes yes, I know. We have to sneak in, and that's why I had to come. I just don't know if I'm up to it."
"I'm sure you'll be fine." And if not, we can always fall back on 'pulling the roof off'.
===
The corridor was half collapsed, littered with rubble and metal reinforcing bars, and in total darkness, apart from the occasional dropped chemlight from a scavenged emergency kit. In the several hundred seconds since she'd pulled her Master out of the trap of his office, Merlon had needed to use her magic four times to open gaps large enough to pass through. She resisted the urge to wince as another series of vibrations rippled through the floor; shadow sight showed the traitor, blazing like a beacon where she stood high up on one wall of the Pit. The pony was far too bright to examine closely, but Merlon could see the glare of her power flare as she hurled projectiles at gut-wrenching speeds into various points around the installation. Not just one shot and move on, but concentrated volleys that drove hyperkinetic metal deep into the guts of her home and workplace.
How-- The thought was ruthlessly suppressed; she knew there was no value to that line of inquiry. What was far more important was the why. The first few seconds of the attack had effectively neutralised the Security Hub as an entity, cutting off the head of the local organization and allowing the body to run aimlessly in random circles while it haemorrhaged People and capabilities. Why is that pony still here? She must know there will be a response, and they have both experienced Arclight. There is no shielded chamber here. The idea of the thaumic suppressor catching her still inside the Pit filled Merlon with a kind of queasy horror; the thought of being trapped with her Master in this ruin, unable to protect him from any of a multitude of dangers, drove her onwards.
She desperately wanted to pick him up and gallop or fly into the depths, not stopping until she was in one of the deep tunnels and away, far away, from all this, but Orgon had forbidden it. Instead, he trotted just behind her, and she carefully adjusted her pace to keep within his capabilities. All the while the floor shuddered and the thunder rolled on, sometimes close and sometimes far, as the pony continued the assault. Which one is it, Fusion or Gravity? Her Master had shared the Board's files on the two traitors, and their specialities were clearly identified, so this was almost certainly Gravity. Not for the first time, she wanted to weep at the loss of the intelligence from those Security ponies back at the Institute. If only I could have talked to them before they were euthanized!
The other one must have caused the thaumomagnetic pulse; it is interesting that she's not taken any further part in the destruction. There is some limit to their power, then. Shortly afterwards, the pony had vanished in an odd bubble of magic, something that seemed to turn a little patch of the shadow world inside out. What pattern must they be using to cast that travelling spell? Merlon worried away at the idea, while waiting for her Master to clamber over a shifting rubble pile. On the other side was a body, half crushed by falling masonry. She moved the corpse gently, laying it to one side while subtly reinforcing the unstable rocks under Orgon's paws.
There was a scrabbling sound from one side of the pile, where it had mostly blocked one of the many doorways along this corridor. A paw appeared, bloodied and with digits at odd angles, pushing ineffectually at the stones, before being replaced by an eye that peered out through a gap no larger than a hoof. "Get this one out of here, servitor." The voice was husky and full of pain, but Merlon didn't need the order to start work. She was pulling rocks away as soon as she knew the Person was trapped inside, ever mindful of Orgon's progress, then stopping, the job not nearly done, when he waved at her.
"That one will have to await rescue by the emergency services."
Her Master's voice was casual and disinterested; the tones of someone busy with a task that was taking most of his attention. Merlon turned away, flicking her ears forward, but still able to hear the suddenly panicked cries from the trapped Person. There was a flicker of pain, cats-claws along the sides of her head, but it was a faint ghost of a sensation and soon vanished. The grey mare had long ago realised that the Sector Chief -- whoever that happened to be, and she had outlasted several -- was the only Master that really mattered.
===
In the shadow world, the glowing pyramid of Naraka stretched out before them both. Fusion and Redshift skimmed the forest, weaving between the taller trees under the light of the paired moons. Heliostats decorated the horizon, their beams of reflected sunlight focused on the large farms that occupied everything in Lacunae territory that wasn't forest or mountain, and illuminating the bottoms of clouds ready to water the land.
The outermost territory of the Eugenics Board site was dotted with pairs of ponies, involved in the things ponies were ordered to do when at such a place. Some of them moved when she passed overhead, and she sensed their regard, but that was all. They were all busy with other, more intimate, matters.
They alighted at the inner perimeter, dropping down between the trees to stand next to the high fence. I might be able to shield us, but... No overflights of Naraka, so we'll just have to walk in. Her ears twitched and swivelled, hunting for any sign that they'd been discovered, but there was only the occasional faint gasp or other sound of pleasure. Her horn flickered, but Redshift's own magic interfered with the rapidly forming patterns.
"Wait... there are circuits in this wall. Nothing thaumic... just sensors and such."
Fusion twitched, her ears going back. Now that she was looking for it, the flows of electrical power were clearly visible. Nothing like the hard lines of energy she'd seen in the Dog's armour suits, or the power systems of their aircraft, but faint and subtle things, like the vague phosphorescence of spider's silk in the moonlight. It was strung out along the top and bottom of the tall barricade. "Do they know we are here?" she said, voice tight. Her power bloomed, tightly coiled patterns that flooded her mind with the potential to uproot trees and turn stone into incandescent vapour.
Redshift took a nervous step backwards; the magic was not in the real, but the precursors of power were obvious at this distance. "No, don't!" he whispered, the fear back in his voice. "They all face inwards. It must be for the gryphons." He made a gesture with one wing, and Fusion stared through the dark green barricade material, seeing the golden armatures of gryphon wing bones where the creatures were grouped in little clusters behind the fence.
"Right, yes. That makes sense." She took a deep breath, and her head lowered. "Sorry. First test for you, Redshift."
The stallion's eyes closed and he nodded, little glimmers of light condensing about his horn. "There's nothing very complex here, just dots of computronium all linked together. I can easily ask--" His eyes opened and he smiled tentatively. "There's a local buffer, and I've convinced them all to loop the output back into the network. Nothing we, or any of the people in the external fields, do will be seen. Is that okay?"
"That's perfect-- ah, how much did you affect? I didn't see much magic."
"It's a mesh network, and there is a firmware update mechanism -- the modification is passed from one node to another..." He cringed slightly at Fusion's look of surprise. "That's not a problem, is it? I thought--"
She shook her head. "Not at all, just a little more than I expected. How far?" She focused her magic, calling up a simple spell she'd used before as a spying tool, then wedding it to other magics. The world around her seemed to dim and distort, filling with heat haze like the air above a metal surface left out in the sun, even while her fur grew cold. Little coils of mist spun out from the underside of her belly, and she changed the spell, reducing its intensity until they disappeared. I might not use it directly any more, but that little bit of magic the Maker-thing gave me is still useful.
"Do you think the concealment will work?" Redshift asked, a shiver running through his body as he felt the cold bite. "We only had that gryphon sensor to test it on." He looked around, peering into the deeper darkness that now surrounded them both. "I don't like being blind."
"I see no reason why not. It's obvious the Dogs get the best armour and weapons, but an infrared camera is a very simple thing." More magic, a careful illusion to cover the inside of the fence and what she was about to do. A point of light, like a spot of sunlight through a lens, scribed a tall oval in the fence, then she pushed the cut polymer through and stepped after it. "You'll just have to use your shadow sight for a while; it won't be for long. How much area does your little modification cover, Redshift?"
"Just this segment, perhaps a quarter of the perimeter. I didn't want to take a chance in making something that could propagate through the interlinks." Redshift followed her, taking the section of fence and resealing it with a little of his own power. "We should use the armour as well."
Fusion nodded, and her armour darkened and mottled slightly, matching the shades of the forest floor. Encased in a shifting bubble of darkness, the pair made their way towards the base of Naraka's main building, avoiding the groups of sleeping gryphons by scent and the gentle golden glow of their wings.
===
There was a door at the centre of each face of the pyramid. A heavy thing made of brushed metal, set deep into the polished black stone of the sloping wall, it was four times her height and, as far as she could tell, nothing moved behind it. Under the influence of Redshift's magic, the controls flashed green and the door lifted a single length, then stopped. Light tried to flood out of the gap, but the same magic that wrapped Fusion in darkness folded the glare back in on itself, preventing any more than a faint glow from escaping. They crept into the wide, empty corridor on the other side, then Redshift let the door close.
The stallion glanced nervously ahead of them, nostrils flaring as he sampled the air. The passageway was square in cross-section and lined with smaller doors; forty bodylengths further on there was a large junction chamber filled with lifting gear and bulky storage containers. "I've done the same thing to the local cameras," he whispered, "they are all very basic machines."
"Would you know if it doesn't work?" Fusion murmured back, relaxing her hold on the remains of the modified atmospheric lensing spell that was still curling the light about them. Unconstrained, the air rushed in, flooding her muzzle with the odours of the building. Ponies, lots of ponies, and many gryphons, their unfamiliar scents blurring together into a melange of feathers and fur. Underneath that was Dog, again many unfamiliar individuals, but... Fusion inhaled deeply, shutting off her shadow sight and closing her eye. That is familiar... the trace was too faint, and she grunted with displeasure, sweeping her power through the walls, matching the layout with Spiral's memories. Ramp... there. She silently indicated one of the smaller doors, and Redshift's horn glowed as he manipulated the speck of computronium that served it as a lock.
"I can block any alarm from a device I'm modifying, but that won't help if there is something monitoring the responses remotely. There's no way I'd know." He poked his head through the opening, flicking a wing at Fusion. "It's clear... I can read the alert state of the cameras, and there is no motion," he said, when she looked at him questioningly.
"You are a useful pony to have around, Redshift," she said, pushing past him and heading down the ramp. The Dogs use a lot of electronics in with their thaumic systems... this is better than I had hoped. "Come on." The ramp, obviously designed for the movement of heavy equipment, or perhaps herds of ponies and gryphons, coiled down into the depths and past many levels, each with its own set of doors. They saw no one, but cameras on the other sides of the sealed doors indicated motion, and shadow sight showed the familiar glows of the Dog's comms bracers. There were relatively few, most likely those responsible for making sure the inmates didn't get into trouble while they were supposed to be sleeping.
They were much closer than Spiral had been, and Fusion focused on the areas they were descending towards. Below ground, each level of Naraka's internal structure was arranged in rings that mirrored the above ground separation of visitor and inmate. On the outer part of the ring, adjacent to the ramp they were descending, were long lines of small chambers, each containing one or more ponies or gryphons. The area within was mostly empty, except for some high ceilinged volumes with no obvious purpose. At the very centre, like the core of some titanic, buried apple were...
"What is that in the middle, Red?" Fusion said, puzzling over the sight. There were a lot of crystal thaumic machines in regular arrays, but some of the colours were off. Amid the laser-pure colours she expected, were those in a rainbow of pastel hues. "Is it some kind of computing infrastructure?" It would make sense... genetic and proteomics must need a lot of processing power.
Redshift was quiet for a few moments, then his ears went back. "I... I'm not sure. It's almost like..." He shook his head "No. I won't believe it; it must be something else."
"What is it?" Fusion stared at Redshift; the stallion looked very unsettled and was shifting from hoof to hoof in little jogging steps, and seemed ready to bolt. She began to feel uneasy, his sudden increase in tension almost infectious. Unbidden, her power stirred, and she pushed it away.
Red shook his head again, looking suddenly frightened. "Don't know for sure... don't want to say just yet."
"Is it a threat?"
"No," he said reluctantly, voice so low she could hardly hear him, "not in the normal sense. Come on, I don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to." He dropped his head, resolutely looking away, then nudged her shoulder to get her moving.
===
The deeper they went, the fainter the Dog smell became, overwhelmed by that of pony. They must put many of the ponies inside at night. Redshift had paused, his nostrils flaring as he sampled the air. "I can smell Shock Diamond!" he said, in an excited whisper that sounded very loud amid the hard surfaces of the spiral ramp. He cringed, ears sweeping the surroundings, then relaxed slightly. "Sorry. My colt has been through here, I'm sure of it."
Fusion nodded. "Yes... Random, too, I think. We didn't see them outside, so they must be in here somewhere." She examined her surroundings in more detail; there were no ponies on this level, so she carried on walking. In these close quarters it was hard to identify individuals, as many were clustered together into small groups she'd seen earlier, strung out along what she assumed were corridors.
What is going to happen when the first pony here sees us... will they try to raise the alarm? What should I do if that happens? The thought was painful, and she let it sit for a few moments as they descended. They had scavenged a number of the suppressor devices from the Security team that had attacked them at the Institute, but it was nowhere near enough for the number of ponies present. "Perhaps not," she murmured, shaking her head at Redshift's questioning look, they will assume we are here because it was ordered.
At the next exit from the ramp the slight odour that had teased her at the surface suddenly intensified, and she placed her muzzle against the crack under the door and inhaled deeply. Recognition was like being hit between the eyes with a hammer.
--a paw holding a black knife, sharp claws on her belly, the harsh whine of a bone saw spooling up--
"That's Salrath!" she choked out, involuntarily jumping backwards, her heart thundering.
"She's here?!" Redshift said, voice high and almost a whinny. "Why would she be here?"
Fusion took deep breaths, forcing the irrational panic away. She's just one Dog. "This is a trap, it has to be."
Redshift was trotting on the spot, hooves clattering on the stone floor. "What are we going to do? If they know we are here--"
"Stop it, Red," Fusion said, stepping into the stallion and pushing him off balance. "This is why Gravity is doing what she's doing. Splitting up makes us vulnerable, but we can move so much faster than them... kick and retreat, kick and retreat." He nodded shakily, and she stepped back. "We'll just have to be careful, that's all." And if she is here, perhaps I can catch up with her...
"I guess it doesn't change much." Redshift swallowed, then gestured at the door with one wing. "This is the first floor that has ponies in residence. Shall... shall we go through here while I look for the comms bay?"
The hope in his voice was almost painful to listen to. We need to search for our foals anyway, so why not combine both jobs? "Okay, Red, but no stopping if we see them. Our first priority must be to cut off communications."
He nodded vigorously. "I understand. What... what will you do if Salrath is here?"
The door clicked quietly, its electronics defeated by Red's magic, and Fusion gently pushed it open. "I'll think of something, I'm sure." Something permanent-- She closed her eyes, forcing back the anger, replacing it with cold calculation. But perhaps she might be useful... I would have far fewer compunctions about using her than anyone else, and she is an Agent in their security forces.
The door opened into a short passageway that ended in another door, which in turn revealed another corridor, this one lined with floor to ceiling glass windows. The smell of familiar Dog was stronger here, and the scent of Salrath was joined by that of Korn. So you are helping them, then. I remember what you said to Gravity while I was paralysed at the Institute; I thought you might be proof that all of the Dogs are not the same. A bitter disappointment made Fusion's ears lay back, and she ground her teeth together. So be it.
===
As had been apparent by shadow sight, there were ponies in most of the little rooms. There were a mixture of groups and singletons, old and young, but the majority of the adults were mares. All were sleeping, and Fusion trotted past, hunting for any sign of her corral's foals. Hoofsteps rang out, loud and clear against the floor, but the glass-fronted stalls were obviously sound proofed, because nopony stirred at her passing. A few were awake, and followed her progress with dull, uninterested eyes, but none showed any real curiosity at her presence.
Who are they going to tell? All probably forbidden to use magic apart from under special circumstances... Her thoughts, already dark, became leaden, the weight of her anger at the numbers of her kind locked away and used as experimental subjects threatening to crush everything around her. Focus, filly. Find what you came for, then see what we can do for the rest.
The corridor finally ended in another set of doors, these ones heavily reinforced. It made no difference; they opened just as easily under Redshift's influence, the new air bringing a near-overpowering scent of gryphon. The same little rooms, but this time filled with the bird-cat hybrids. Impatient, Fusion broke into a canter, ignoring the occupants as she ran forwards.
"They all have collars," Redshift called out from a little way behind. "Some kind of control system... looks like a lot of different sensors, and something to deliver electric shocks."
"No Blessing for gryphons," Fusion growled, skidding to a stop where the corridor ended at another set of doors. "That's this floor finished; we should try the next one down."
===
Merlon, Orgon and Faraniar had descended deep into the complex, nearly down to the great shield doors that covered the lower hangar bays, when the air changed.
This corridor, one of the long rings that encircled the shaft, was a choke point for those wanting to enter the lower complex; it was packed with wounded Masters, the healthier helping the less mobile, making their slow way to the only escape route that didn't require going overland and being exposed to the attention of the pony. The downing of all the airtrucks in the Pit's airspace had made it painfully obvious that there was no escape that way, at least not until the full military response arrived.
Smoke, an acrid haze marred with the scent of combustion products, had been their constant companions, tainted now and again with the coppery tang of blood and the muzzle-wrinkling odour of burned fur. The light was poor, little more than the monochromatic glow of chemlights, with the occasional white from a functional comms bracer, rendering everything in ghastly shades of green and black. Chatter between the People was restricted to quiet monosyllables and the occasional pained utterance; the sounds from the upper levels were too distracting.
Merlon ploughed through the mass like an icebreaker through a berg cluttered fjord, using her bulk and gentle, irresistible magic to make a space for the Sector Chief. She took it all in; the little gasps when she brushed some injury, the vague look of shock in many eyes. How could you do this to us? They gave us life and this is how you repay that act of creation? Jaw set, she carried on, not slowing from the pace set by Orgon, who trailed behind her, still sending out a continuous stream of orders through his bracer's tenuous connection with the rest of the ad-hoc network.
Ahead were another set of heavy blast doors, half wedged open by a fallen boulder against the insistent pressure of their spring-powered closers. Merlon flicked her tail and flared her nostrils, questing after an elusive scent. There was a rising wind, a bare zephyr that rapidly built, carrying with it concrete dust and fragments of detritus at ever increasing speeds, blowing from the corridor behind her. The new odour, still too faint and alien to be identified, came with it.
Farinar, still walking at Orgon's side, held up one of the instruments he'd taken from the emergency kit. "This one is reading an increase in oxygen levels," he said doubtfully, waving the sensor in the air.
The mare glanced back and up, dropping briefly into shadow sight. Her mane tingled with sudden anticipation, but there was no change in the colour of the magic. The same near ultra-violet hue, swelling and pulsing in time with the roar and crash of impacts. I don't understand... something has changed, but it's not magic. Her ears pricked up and twisted backwards. The drumbeat sound of impacts still resonated through the battered frame of the complex, but along with that was something else. A rising moan, rich with complex, atonal harmonies.
Ears twitching, she unconsciously picked up the pace, earning a teeth-click of displeasure from her Master. There was a flash of pain, a feeling like needles being driven into her temples, and she slowed. Merlon whimpered, deep in her throat and near inaudible amid the shuffling, wounded horde. What is happening... what don't I understand? Her ears folded all the way back, and the urge to grab her Master and gallop away became overpowering. How can I protect him if I don't understand? Ruthlessly, the mare suppressed her instincts and focused on putting one hoof in front of the other.
The wind, now strong enough to blow her mane forward and tickle her cheeks, brought with it the sharp smell of nitrogen oxides and something else, something rich and unwholesome that was naggingly familiar. Probing the memory as a distraction from the unknown actions of the traitors, she plodded onwards, faithfully matching pace with Orgon. It was a distant thing, back when she'd gone on several field trips to support the then Sector Chief as she'd toured the results of a Maker's Path bombing campaign -- that same smell, imprinted deep in her hindbrain, was there as well. It was a Eugenics Board sub office; the terrorists had used incendiaries and burned--
Merlon's eyes went wide as the memory struck home. Soot stained corridors filled with the charred and cooked remains of the score of Masters who'd worked in the place; every one of the bodies had been pulled into a tight foetal position, backs bowed and paws clenched into fists by the thermal contraction of their tendons. Her head came up and she stopped dead, twisting her neck to stare back down the corridor and into the wind.
The warm wind.
Ears questing, she ignored Orgon's irritated look as he bumped into her rump. That atonal, multipart harmony was louder now, and she was able to pick out the individual sounds. Every one was high-pitched, starting abruptly and tailing off, and there were so many, each one different. "I thought it was just air whistling through gaps and open doors," she murmured, suddenly taking a great, gasping breath. "It's not, is it? You stupid mare." Her head flicked back around, eyes measuring the distance to the blast door.
"What is the matter with the pony?"
Merlon knew Orgon. Every aspect of his voice, the angle of his ears or whiskers, the response of his slit pupils, the way he stood and moved, all these things gave her a connection that bordered on telepathy. He'd picked up on her sudden change in demeanour, and stood stock still, looking into the warm wind with narrowed eyes. Around them, all the wounded were doing the same, their silence broken by an anxious muttering. The air suddenly became hot and, off in the distance, somewhere around the gradual bend in the corridor, there was a faint glow of ruddy, flickering light. The instrument in Farinar's paw gave off a sharp, pulsing whine.
All three stared at the machine for a moment. "A breach of the liquid oxygen reserve? Are these ones that close?" Orgon said, his voice suddenly tight. Merlon nodded, then swept her gaze along the masses of Masters still packing the corridor. They had all stopped staring and had started moving, pain forgotten, far faster than before. Panic was spreading from somewhere behind them, the previous grim silence replaced with curses and shouts. Beyond the influence of Merlon's telekinesis, fights broke out, the fitter People pulling down the less able and trampling them under paw. A shot rang out, then another, off in the distance, towards the light.
Merlon's ears folded back, and she felt a sudden intense, helpless fury. "I can't save them," she whispered. Ignoring Farinar, her eyes locked onto the Sector Chief. I might not even be able to save you. The idea twisted something inside her, and she snatched her Master up in a cocoon of magic, leaping away from Farinar and that terrible bloom of light. Orgon struggled for a moment, then relaxed, not that his movement was really noticeable against her strength and panic.
Head down, she went straight into a gallop, no longer an icebreaker, but a battering ram. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she thrust injured Masters to either side, throwing them into rubble and their comrades, raising shouts, curses and cries of pain in her wake. Behind her rump the light flared to the yellow-orange of a bonfire and the atonal song redoubled in volume as the chorus was joined by Masters just tens of lengths behind her fetlocks.
The grey mare pushed the heat back with her magic, enfolding them both in a bubble of cool air. To her left and right there were fast moving streamers of smoke, boiling off clothing and fur, then the Masters she was overtaking burst into furious flames. The song, their song, surrounded her now, loud and shrill, the Masters staggering and finally falling to the ground, until all that was left was the bellow and roar of the wind, moving far faster than she could gallop. Flames and ash, whipped into turbulent ribbons, flew past her, blocking her view of the jammed blast door.
Merlon leapt over the boulder, momentarily collapsing her defences as she passed through the narrow opening. Her feathers charred and fur curled in the unbelievable heat that washed over her body; the mare clenched her eyes tight shut, fumbling for the rock with her magic.
The body-length boulder wasn't some lump of granite or natural stone. Instead, it was a fragment of pressure-formed, fine grained concrete, laced with metal strands and chaotic coils of fullerene cable; the material of choice for bulk armour applications. It resisted her power, the propagation of cracks arrested by composite inclusions, and thoughts of failure brought with them terror and the whip of punishment. Merlon screamed, her voice hoarse and full of desperation, and convulsively pushed, forgetting everything else. Orgon tumbled from her grasp and fell to the rubble-strewn floor, paws clenched tight over his face against the sudden wash of flame-hot air.
The section of concrete exploded under the hard-swung hammer of her will, the sharp report near inaudible over the howl of the wind, and the door slammed shut, leaving the pair in hot, smoky darkness.
===
The heavy warmth of the gryphoness was almost enough to lull Korn to sleep, despite the fear-filled pounding of his heart and the throbbing ache of his bruised muzzle. This ex-soldier, the one called 'Ellisif', had pushed him against the wall and was practically sitting on top of him, while keeping watch. For some reason he didn't really understand -- and they had made no attempt to explain -- the older male they were keeping an eye on was some sort of a threat. Beats this one, he thought, they all look threatening.
Periodically, her muscles, dense slabs softened only slightly by their covering of tawny fur, would bunch and shift, either in reaction to some imperceptible change in the environment, or just to relieve the tension of sitting still. As harmless as these little movements were, each brought him to sudden alert, his own body tensing in response; he passed the kiloseconds in a kind of half panic, half exhausted, doze.
For his part, the older male seemed to have no problems in staying asleep.
The furry wall shifted and his eyes sprang open again, just in time to see two ponies in full Security barding canter past the window. The end of the leader's tail, the only part of the creature that was visible, streamed out in delicate pastels, a mix of blues, greens and pinks, from the tube of the armour's tail guard. Korn’s eyes went wide.at the sight. "She's here!" he gasped.
His guardian jerked at the sight, springing to her paws and staring intently out of the window, then turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. "You know that pony?" she said, snapping her claws to awaken the others.
"T-that was Fusion Pulse TC4668," he said, voice choked. "She's the one they are trying to catch. If she's here, that means--" he broke off, eyes darting from side to side. This one saw what the pony's kin did to the Institute... "These ones must get out; that pony is strong enough to destroy Naraka completely. The gryphon does not want to be trapped in this cell when the fighting starts!"
"That's right; you were one of the hostages, weren't you?" She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded decisively. "Svartr, Adigard. Get the door open." She gestured to the opening to the drum-shaped airlock, and both the gryphons stood up as if the order had been wired straight to their muscles.
"Don't do it," the older male said, "you'll only make things worse for all of us." He tensed, but remained laying down when all three gryphons took a step in his direction.
"This is as bad as it gets, Kafli," Ellisif said. "You weren't at the Institute when..." She looked at Korn, her head cocked to one side.
--blazing white eyes, completely empty of everything but rage, staring out above a snarling muzzle--
"Gravity Resonance TP5325," Korn said, shivering slightly. Korn is going to die in here, trapped between the pony and whatever Security decides to do. Will it be quick, or will they try and capture them again? That didn't work so well last time. The bright blossoming of a nuclear detonation, a sudden wave of searing fire and then nothing. Is that the best this one can hope for?
"...Gravity ripped through it. She slaughtered an entire Security reaction team, all by herself -- and that included holding off the ponies they had with them." There was a frank expression of disbelief in Kafli's eyes, and Ellisif shook her head. "Whatever. The important thing is that it's the dogboys they hate, not us." She extended one set of black talons, making a clawing gesture at Korn. "Isn't that right, Master?"
Korn nodded, keeping silent and watching as the pair of gryphons climbed into the lock. They braced themselves against the outside wall, wedging their talons into the gap between the rotating drum and the shell it sat in. Muscles bulged and there was an alarming creak from somewhere deep inside the wall, then a sudden crack. Losing their grip, Svartr and Adigard tumbled forwards, but the rotating section of the lock had moved.
===
Salrath stared at the gryphon in distaste. The creature, ex-flysoldat Olvir Bergthor, had the normal, slightly rank, feather-and-fur scent they all did, except with the addition of something medicinal. Missing most of the feathers on one wing, it bore the hallmarks of recent thaumic medical treatment -- livid pink skin that looked too new for an adult. It was watching her with the same intensity, great yellow eyes never leaving her face. She ran one claw pointedly along her comms bracer, and the creature finally took the hint, lowering its eyes.
Yes, think that this one can make you suffer right now, if she chooses. The thought came with some irritation; this particular gryphon was directly assigned to Captain Rthar, who was still listed as being in a different part of the Security table of organization. An oversight that Salrath will have to correct. For now, the threat, empty though it was, would have to do.
More annoying was how well Rthar seemed to be coping with the constant presence of the half crippled flysoldat. The Captain had obviously taken Orgon's instructions to heart, and had ordered the gryphon to be his bodyguard. Whatever he'd said must have been vague, because it shadowed him everywhere, even to the bathroom. There it would sit in the entrance, facing outwards, denying anybody else access by the sheer bulk of its presence.
It had decided early on that she was also on its list of potential threats to its new master, and tended to position itself between her and Rthar. Right now it sat on its haunches, long, black-tipped tail curled around the pillar holding up the Captain's chair. Rthar himself had reclined the seat all the way and was dozing, whiskers twitching with some unsettling dream.
The rest of the room, high up near the tip of the pyramid, held only the skeleton monitoring crew that normally ran Naraka during the night shift. Those few People present found any excuse to stay away from the Agent's side of the banks of consoles and associated monitors, something that made Salrath smile. One of them she knew from the testing of Corral Twenty-Seven's servitors; the chocolate-brown furred Nalka. The Analyst must really have offended someone to be stuck with this duty.
The alarm on her bracer went off, joined a moment later by Rthar's. Reflexively, she glanced down at the display, her mouth dropping open. Well, Orgon misjudged that response-- she thought in a daze as the preliminary attack report rolled in. All contact with Sector Twelve Security Hub lost; effect consistent with nuclear-pumped electrothaumic pulse weapon. All the reaction teams supposed to support these ones are gone. The fur down her spine tingled, and she got to her paws, claws nervously rattling on the butt of her holstered pistol. Command still has the forces in the deep tunnels, but Maker be damned, this will screw things up.
Rthar shunted the military analytics feed to one of the wall screens, and they both stared at it for a tenth of a kilosecond, trying to keep up with the stream of raw data pouring in from wide-ranging aircraft, satellites and the network of thaumic early warning systems spread throughout the Hive's territory. This last feed was the most interesting, and he split it off to a screen of its own. Tentative conclusions were starting to annotate the data plots, all generated by teams of specialists at the strategic defence bunkers.
"There's only one servitor there," Rthar said. "Two at the start, but now only one. Signature matches that of the fight at the Institute." The gryphon's head came up at the words, beak half opening to produce a strangled squawk. It shuffled sideways, nervously checking something on its armour's chest panel.
Then where is the other one? Salrath hissed with displeasure. Is this all just a distraction? The reports continued to flow, and she suddenly twitched. No, not a distraction -- a decapitation strike. Can they really be that smart? Her ears folded back, muzzle wrinkling in a silent snarl that was closer to fear than aggression. "Which one is missing?" she said in strangled tones, mind suddenly filled with a vision of the fury on the face of the blue servitor.
"The white one..." Rthar ran one claw over the screen, picking out the identifier. "...Fusion Pulse TC4668." He frowned, highlighting another entry. "They are pulling out our Arclight cover.
No Arclight. Korn was that one's Master... the bonds of the Blessing run deep, perhaps enough to give Salrath the edge she needs? The Agent swallowed, and suddenly felt light-headed, her tail pressed in between her legs. ...and this one fed the Student to the gryphons. "Maker no," she whispered, backing towards the lift door. Perhaps it's not too late; they might have kept Korn alive... even a recognizable corpse will do. "This one needs to review security," she said in a strangled tone, turning and lengthening her stride.
Rthar ignored her, captivated by the reams of data, and only his gryphon watched her leave.
===
Flysoldat Adigard Alfgeir grunted, pushing the rotating drum against its motors. They'd broken the locking mechanism, but there was still a lot of resistance at certain points. He glared through the narrowing gap, daring his old sersjant to make a move. The other gryphon just looked at him, anger etched in the tense muscles of his shoulders and the rigid curl of his talons where they dug into the padded floor.
Tucked in the little remaining space within the drum was Korn, trying to keep as far from Adigard's hindpaws and their extended, finger-length claws as possible. The flysoldat ignored him, focused completely on Kafli, only relaxing slightly when the rotating wall closed off the opening back to the cell. One less threat... He laughed at the thought, a quiet, creaky cackle that made Korn flinch. ...now all we need to do is escape from the Board and find some quiet niche to live out our days. Forever skulking on the edges of the People's civilization, forever looking over our shoulders. The laugh turned to a hiss of displeasure and he shook his head, pulling the drum's opening into alignment with the corridor.
Svartr and Ellisif were waiting, the latter already five bodylengths around the curve of the corridor. "Come on," she said, "I want to catch up with this 'Fusion' pony." There was a thump of displaced air and she leapt away, wings making shallow strokes and brushing the walls to either side.
Svartr joined her, leaving Adigard alone with Korn. "Get moving. They still want you dead, and we might be able to keep you alive for a while longer," he growled, prodding the Student into motion. Korn lurched into an uneven trot, already breathing heavily, and the flysoldat sighed, padding after him at an easy lope.
"Did you hear that?" Korn panted, his ears twitching.
The sound came again; the brief, quiet hiss of metal sliding on metal. "It's behind us; might be a door." Was that Kafli changing his mind? "Doesn't matter. We're going to be discovered soon enough. Keep going." He flicked out one wing, pushing the leading edge against Korn's back and forcing him into a stumbling run. Up ahead there was a flash of light the colour of the noon-day sun, then barely audible voices, like the speakers were shouting through thick layers of cloth.
There was a subdued crack, like that a stick breaking, and something struck his rump, midway between knee and hip. An instant later, all the muscles in his hindquarters convulsed as searing pain exploded out from the impact point. Adigard tripped, falling flat, the sweep of his wings knocking Korn down at the same time.
Breathing coming in short gasps, Adigard tried to shout a warning, but the shock of falling and the constant spider-crawl of electricity from the stun round embedded in his leg made it impossible to scream, let alone actually speak.
"So the Student is still alive!"
There was joy in that voice, and it could only have come from the Agent. Hindquarters still jerking and convulsing, he discovered he had enough control over his forelimbs to claw at the ground, managing to twist enough to see her approach at a rapid lope, pistol held steady despite her rapid gait. No backup... why is she alone? Korn had recovered enough of his senses to look around and, on catching sight of Salrath, gave a strangled croak and tried to scramble away, but tangled in the thrashing of Adigard's back end and just fell again.
A second later and Salrath had a knee pressed in the small of Korn's back, twisting one arm around while reaching awkwardly for a set of restraints with the paw that held her gun. Korn struggled, flipping and twisting like an impaled bug, but Salrath just applied more force to his shoulder; he tried to scream, back arching to relieve some of the pressure. Even that was denied to him, as the Agent slammed his head into the floor before he could even draw enough breath.
"Where are all the rest of your catty-bird friends, eh?" she purred, glancing at Adigard while pulling the locking strap on the cuffs tight enough that flesh bulged either side of the metal. "Never mind, Salrath will find them soon enough." She smiled down at the jerking and thrashing Adigard, pointing the pistol at his throat. "No stunner this time, you useless--"
Adigard pushed up off the floor with one twitching set of talons, his head whipping around and beak closing on her arm, just between wrist and her bulky comms bracer. The Agent's eyes widened and her other paw released Korn, claws extended to rake his eyes. A hard shake knocked her off her booted paws and the strike missed, only ripping feathers from the top of his head. Balance completely lost, she fell heavily onto his right wing.
The gun went off three times in quick succession, explosive ammunition filling the corridor with thunder, as Salrath fought to bring it to bear without any success. Fine, have it your way, Adigard thought, meeting her snarling gaze for an instant. She must have had some inkling of what he intended, because her paw darted to the knife sheath at her waist, but she wasn't fast enough.
The gryphon's beak closed convulsively on Salrath's wrist, its edges lacking their normal razor's edge, but more than sharp enough to deal with the relatively slender limb. Brindled fur parted and bones splintered under the force of those blunted shears, filling Adigard's mouth with the taste of iron and spraying carmine up the nearest wall.
The little black knife fell from nerveless fingers, joining the pistol and severed paw on the polished stone floor, and Adigard opened his beak to push the Agent away. Wide-eyed and gasping, she sagged to the floor, trembling, blood-slick fingers trying to do something with her comms bracer. She opened her mouth--
There was a loud bleeping from somewhere, and the shocks abruptly stopped. Back half still weak and trembling, Adigard lunged forwards, wrapping one set of talons around her head and closing Salrath's muzzle before she could get the first word out. His other set grabbed her injured arm at the elbow, and he spread his forelegs, pulling the bracer out of reach.
Then the golden glow of sunlight condensed over his body, unbending his talons and setting him upright. At his side, Agent Salrath floated spread-eagle, a tight band of magic constricting the stump of her wrist. Breathing shallowly against the forces that held him as still as if he'd been buried in concrete, he watched the little group approach.
It was the two ponies, with the one Korn had called 'Fusion' in the lead. Her horn glowed, holding not only himself and Salrath, but the floating bodies of Svartr and Ellisif. Adigard studied them both intently; within that shell of irresistible telekinesis, both were obviously breathing, and their eyes were alert and moving. Thank the Maker... but is there really any hope she will listen after what happened at the training ground? The idea had seemed reasonable back in the cell, to work with the rogue servitor if they should ever meet up, but this all relied on living long enough to make a deal.
"Oh..."
The pony's voice was soft and full of wonder, trembling with suppressed emotion, scarcely the tones of someone greeted by such a tableau. Little flares of magic danced about her helmet and the armour folded away to reveal a soft-looking white muzzle surmounted by large, mismatched eyes; one was a normal violet, the other a solid and dead-looking white. The violet eye ignored Korn and himself, and was focused intently on the Agent.
"Agent Salrath... I'm so happy to see you again."