No Guardian, I

Part 19

It was very dark inside - the kind of darkness that only comes creeping and seeps fully in when a place has been forgotten for an eternity. Jasker's feet hit the hard floor - marble or well-polished concrete by the feel of it - with a dull echo that resonated up into the shaft he had just descended.

"I could use a light," he shouted upwards, hoping that Alyona or Glazok would hear him.

After a few seconds, the Ghost flew down to him and flashed a wide cone of bright luminosity around, picking up from the surrounding gloom the walls of a long corridor lined with now-dead lamps.

"Looks like this is a backdoor," said Glazok.

"What makes you think that?" asked Jas, moving to inspect one of the lamps. It appeared to be made of solid matte glass, with no filaments or halogen gas inside.

"No way anything larger than a man with a backpack would fit through the entrance. It would be impossible to haul in large amounts of supplies or material in small amounts of time. I thought it was obvious," replied the Ghost.

"Right. Somehow, I didn't think about that."

Behind them, the Fallen landed softly, jumping the last few steps. He chattered something to Jas, low-tone.

"He doesn't feel entirely safe here," translated Glazok.

Yaltrik armed his pistol and made a few steps forward, to stand outside of the cone of light that the Ghost was projecting. He sniffed the air audibly.

Alyona came down last, lugging a pack filled with rations and water. She stuffed the pockets of her battledress with the spare rifle clips that survived their ride through Orenburg. Ten more remained.

"So what's the plan now?" she asked. "I'd suggest trying to restore power to the place."

"Sounds good to me," said Jas. "We need a map of the facility first, though."

"No need. It looks like a standard N-31 Research and Manufacture facility corridor, I've spent a good few months on one of these before being transferred to Perm-16. I'll lead the way."

Jas picked up her pack, and she took point.

It turned out to be entirely non-standard. Even in the utter darkness, filled with the sound of water dripping in the distance and the stale smell of air that did not move for centuries, it became clear to Alyona that this place was more of a maze than any of the command bunkers she had ever seen. She gave up after finding a kitchen where a stairwell leading to a lower level should have been. They scoured the walls until they found a fire evacuation plan. The plastic plaque was cracked, but still legible. Glazok immediately generated a map of the level that hung beneath him and showed their position with a bright red dot.

Yaltrik disappeared from time to time, apparently unfazed by the dark, and every time he returned, his belt pouches looked a tiny bit more full.

The facility was completely deserted. Everything was neatly packed and stowed away, in decaying stacks of cardboard and plastic boxes along the walls or on shelves. It occurred to Jas that it might have been closed down even before the Collapse, evacuated and conserved so that someday, another research team might claim it as their home. He did not know where this sureness that this was a research site had come from. Maybe, Alyona's remark about it being a standard R&M site lodged itself into his brain.

Or, maybe, he always hoped that it would be the case. It'd be so great to come back to the City with a wealth of new Golden Age technologies, unseen for more years than anyone could claim to have lived. To start manufacturing items that would be really useful, not some outdated designs that have been done to death without even an attempt at improving them.

Or, (and this thought he held hushed in the back of his mind so as it wouldn't jinx anything) he could find something - a weapon or armour design - that would cater to the most exotic requests coming from Guardians. Oh, how he wished it would be true.

For now, he stumbled in pitch-black corridors, following the light of a Ghost and the lead of a woman who has been brought back from the other side only to find herself in the middle of an unending, if not full-scale, conflict.

Corridors led to other corridors, and doors were left open to rooms that more often than not contained only desks and powered-down computers with the occasional workshop. He couldn't make sense of the half-faded old Russian stencils over the doors and on the walls, but Alyona now led them more surely. Yaltrik reappeared again, carrying a compact shotgun and wearing, clearly in jest, a helmet that did not fit him.

"Where did you get that?" Jas asked him.

The Fallen answered even before Glazok could translate, pointing into the dark and chattering a long phrase.

"He says he found an arsenal, over that way. Two intersection further."

"Great. Let's hope there's at least some body armour there. I feel naked," announced Alyona. "Please lead the way, Yaltrik."

The room was stacked with four rows of five tall and narrow lockers, divided into three parts each. Jas remembered seeing and using the same model at Daito plants. Yaltrik had forced one open, taking the helmet from the upper compartment, and the shotgun from the middle one, which also housed an armoured vest, long gauntlets, pauldrons and boots. The lower part contained ammunition.

Alyona ditched her helmet and pointed her rifle at the nearest locker, intending to blast it open. Jas pushed the barrel down.

"I have a better idea," he said and drew his shock dagger.

He sliced through the lock and opened the container. The helmet and armour inside were still in their factory packaging. Alyona shook the helmet free of its wrapping and busied herself with its systems.

"Well, the batteries still work. That's something," she said. "Jas, gear yourself. These things can link up in a network, so we can share anything we see. There's also radio."

She put the armour on in quick, practiced motions. It clicked and snapped as she adjusted the fit. She then helped Jas put on his own suit, and tugged the fittings until it sat snugly, but comfortably. Jas almost immediately forgot he was wearing it.

Jasker put on his own helmet. Alyona touched a switch on its side, and the interior HUD flickered, projecting itself on the visor. The air filtering system also engaged, giving Jas a sniff of ozone-purged air.

They looked almost the same now, he realized. Similar overall shapes, different but in the inevitable divergences between a male and a female figures, the same helmets. They looked almost exactly like Guardians.

Yaltrik took the blade Jas had set down on a bench that ran beneath the lockers and forcibly adjusted the helm he claimed to fit his head. He looked comically, with the bulbous visor over his eyes and the lower part, containing the filter, cut off.

Now able to see in the dark due to the helmets' inbuilt lidars, they quickly navigated the compound to the generator room. It wasn't hard for Glazok to find and restart the heart of the installation, bathing everything in soft yellow light from the lamps on the walls.

"Welcome to the Project Inheritance Archive Lab 4," said a pleasant male voice in old Russian. "Please identify yourselves."

***

++Cayde, you won't believe this. A fresh Guardian has been in Orenburg, lugging a civilian with her. Only instead of going to the City, they stole a Skiff and headed off towards the Urals. Going after them.++

++Signed: Rodren Caill++

++P.S. Don't ask me how I found out. Let's leave it at that I had to make a bargain.++