Ascension

Chapter 16

The lights in the lab started flashing red as the drone of the level one alarm started up. Dr. Wren paced around the mezzanine level, barking out orders to the autons as his coat flapped around his calves. The autons darted between the security posts, reducing the power to each of the factions to contain the internal damage. In the midst of the confusion, Lazarus stood with a satisfied smirk on his lips, a single dark figure in a sea of white.

It had been a hundred and twenty five years since he had been forced to put his best friend into the Game, however long that was in game time. His mind had been too wonderful a thing to be destroyed and as cold as many people thought Lazarus to be, he did have enough heart to not kill Mo. He supposed that Mo ought to have been grateful for that: he had even given him a bookshop filled with all his favourite titles, along with a little freedom to customize the look and feel of the interface on its insides. Mo was clever and had managed to twist the space algorithms, even create himself a little companion, but Lazarus had never once thought that his friend’s genius could extend as far as to create defences strong enough to burn his malware hounds at full capacity.

The thrill gave him a rush that youth had never managed to give him.

“Mr. Lazarus,” Dr. Wren spoke up from somewhere near his shoulder. “We’ve managed to get the situation under control, but we’ve been forced to retreat. The Cage is defended, sir. Our lines are getting burned. That’s...not supposed to happen.”

“I designed the Game, Dr. Wren,” he replied coolly, not bothering to look at the man. “I know what it’s supposed to do and what it’s not. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

He heard Wren make a small noise inside his throat that sounded like a whimper. “My apologies, sir,” he stammered.

“None required.” Lazarus brushed off some invisible lint off his black suit and straightened his tie. “Get my capsule ready, Wren. I’m going under.”

“You, sir? Would...would that be wise? The Game system around the Cage is a mess and...”

“I know what I’m doing, Dr. Wren,” he replied, cutting across his rambles.

“But the security...”

“Get the capsule ready,” he repeated. “I’ve got a meeting with an old friend.”

                                                                                 ***

Mick looked at his hands where his palms were still wrapped up in gauze. The knots were still holding secure, though the cuts he had gotten from the meteor shower were beginning to hurt again under the bandage. There were more scratches along the heel of his hands and the sides of his wrists. He made a mental note to stay away from windows.

Mick flexed his hands, feeling the cuts on them open as he spread his fingers wide. They burned on exposure. Carly wasn’t there to patch them up for him.

Gabe took his hand, holding it in both of his. Mick met his eyes for a quick moment and turned his gaze to the side of a bookshelf where a sign had been painted with careful delicacy telling people to read quietly. He dimly wondered if those had been Carly’s work as well.

“So you guys know where it is?” he asked in a hollow voice.

“Yeah,” Rooster replied lowly. “We’ve got that figured out. Now it’s just a question of how we’re going to get there. You think your friend can help us out?” he asked Trish.

“When needed,” she responded, not lifting her head from her pillow.

“When needed,” Mick echoed. “Awesome. So where is this place? I assume it’s somewhere in the Ascension Lab.”