Antumbra - A Lost Cause

Extremity - Chapter Twenty Two

Marcus watched the footage again, unable to take his eyes off the screen. He observed with cold scrutiny as the test pilot entered the Argonaut, technicians and emergency staff standing by just to the sides of the screen, and didn't flinch as he witnessed the man step back into the harness and promptly be mangled by the out of control nervous system. Techs and medics tried to pull him out, but by the time they did the unfortunate pilot was dead, twisted until his body bent and flopped in unnatural ways. The first time Marcus had watched it he was mildly shocked, but after so many replays it had quickly lost its dramatic effect. Now he simply hoped to discern what happened, how it happened. The nervous system of the Antumbra seemed like the typical model of any Argonaut, just older. It had all the components and mechanics, right down to the neural link which projected a wearer's sense of space and awareness to match that of the Argonaut's size. It was, by all appearances, primitive but standard. Why it was killing its pilots was a mystery, why it didn't kill the Hybrid girl was an even greater one. They'd run tests whilst she was unconscious, even going so far as to scan her brain patterns at Marcus' request. Nothing unusual came up, which was disappointing. Clearly more tests would be needed, and for that they'd need her present. There was frustratingly little information on the battle between the Argonauts, however brief it was. The normal combat data recorders were damaged on the Ensign's machine, and the Antumbra either had no such feature or they couldn't identify its placement due to its ancient design.

"Now why would you refuse to cooperate?" Marcus asked himself, sipping the last of his now room-temperature tea, "have you made your choice already?"

He placed the empty cup down and swiveled in his chair, staring out of the large bay window over the GDU Habitat. As the sun rose over the city the towers glistened like grass covered in morning dew, the metal boundaries along its edge resembled beaches to the ocean of clouds the Habitat hung over. It was both beautiful and distasteful, Marcus having never cared for the fairy tale appearance. It made the Habitat look too clean, too picturesque, and yet not two days ago the sky just beyond it was a bloody battleground. Not two days ago he likely would have still been able to make out the enemy's mobile forward operations base. The IRT, or Independent Republic of Territories, never seemed far away despite being over four thousand miles across the globe. Local forces had successfully driven off yet another attack on the Global Democratic Union's election, but the IRT had retorted quickly. Each year elections were held for one of the four positions of the Administration, each position being a four-year term, and each year the IRT tried to disrupt those elections to no avail. It was during one such attempt that the Ensign's unfortunate lapse in judgement occurred, yet from the fallout of this blunder emerged a brand new variable.

"Antumbra," Marcus muttered, glancing back at the machine's information on his screen, "just what were you doing down there?" He interlaced his fingers and smiled. The problem with the IRT's continued attempts to overthrow the GDU was the fact that the parties were equally matched. The Republic could launch attacks at range, but lacked the might. The Union had the might, but could not send forces that far. A stalemate neither could break without a new player, and one had just joined.

"What made you choose her?" Marcus mused. Arva may have discovered the machine by accident, but it let her pilot it. Marcus needed to know why. After the disaster in the Lows Marcus was spared disciplinary action only because it had yielded the unexpectedly fortuitous find, but it meant the Administration was applying even more pressure to Marcus in order to clean this up. Rumours were already spreading, and it was becoming impossible to cover this up. It was not the ideal wrench in the works Marcus had envisioned, but it did the one thing he had never managed to do: it made the Administration nervous. It put a spotlight on their methods, and it made the docile populace below start to ask questions.

"Lost in thought again?" Cassius asked, taking his usual seat on Marcus' desk, swiveling the monitor to see what his brother had been watching, "You've been obsessing over this thing more than usual."

"The pieces of the puzzle are all here, Cassius," Marcus said, "I just have to see how they fit together."

"I know what you want," Cassius said, bringing up a candid photo of Arva next to the schematics, "you want her, to send her out to do your dirty work."

"If I could wear that Argonaut myself, I would," Marcus said plainly, "but it seems that may not be an option."

"I took care of the Ensign's family," Cassius changed subjects, "it wasn't easy, but I relocated them to the Pacific Union, far from anyone who can identify them."

"And you say I'm too soft," Marcus sighed, "but thank you all the same." Cassius smirked to himself and crossed his arms, joining his brother in admiring the view.

"So what's our next move?" he asked, "I'm officially under a microscope, and you're in hot water. No way I can lend you support without this blowing open."

"I don't think it'll be necessary," Marcus said, "Antumbra's discovery just gave me probable cause that otherwise would have been impossible to justify. I think I know just what to do next."