Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (46 page)

That can't be right though.

It's warm in here. Comfortably so.

He cracks his lids, a millimeter at a time, letting his pupils dilate and get used to so much brightness after weeks of so much darkness. He feels the ground beneath him and realizes that it's not ground at all but a floor. Smooth and frictionless like glass.

He opens his eyes again.

It
is
glass.

It's all around him.

He's in a box of some sort, not unlike those containers on the Xon, but made entirely of transparent glass. He knocks on it, feeling how hard it is.
Very hard.
It might even be kimberlite, one of the hardest glass compounds ever known. The harsh light comes from two powerful spotlights sitting on the roof of the box above.

What is this place and how did he get here?

He hears a
SNORT!
behind him.

He's laying on his side and so he whirls, rolling away from the sound and coming up on one knee in a defensive Omnite fighting stance.
 He feels foolish immediately.

There's nothing here to fight.

But he's not alone in the box.

The hulking, slumped form of an Everwinter mutant
sits pathetically in the opposite corner, knees pulled up, head tucked between its legs. Long hair sticks up off its head like blue stalagmites. He can't see the creature's face, but he'd recognize his adversary even if all he could see was a single toenail.

Pilcrow
.

The mutant is snoring, clearly asleep. His leg is wrapped with a hasty bandage, blue blood already soaked through the fabric. A bullet wound, received in the crater where Ursa Quinn's Everwinter lab had once stoo
d. Pilcrow had blown it up, returning to ensure that his true target–the Cortex–had been destroyed. 

It hadn't.

That was when Jonathan Quinn had intervened, shooting Pilcrow in the leg and taking the Cortex for himself.

With the help of Jude, of course.

Juno!

Feeling ashamed
he hadn't thought of her already, Altair steps fully to his feet, still feeling groggy from the knockout dart Jude had shot him with. He can't believe he'd been taken unawares like that. His back aches where the dart pierced him, but he can feel a bandage placed over the resultant wound.

He ignores the discomfort for now.

He steps to the edge of his glass prison, reaching the wall and placing his palms upon it. Outside, he sees myriad displays and equipment. Telescopes and star charts mostly. Above, the ceiling is a massive dome, glowing bright with artificial starlight.

This is the Evernight
Skytower.

Ahead and to the left, three figures are congregated around a fourth, locked into a machine of some sort.

The Cortex!

Juno is strapped
inside, her body stretched in an X shape.

She's unconscious.

Behind her, the Cortex itself is a six foot rectangular prism standing on end, covered in wires, electrodes, blinking lights, readouts, and a keypad. Ursa moves around the Cortex, carrying an object that has haunted Altair ever since he'd gotten involved with Jonathan Quinn.

The Box
. The power core for the Cortex.

A man walks behind her, following her. He's holding a shooting iron but doesn't have it pointed directly at her. The threat is obvious, however.

Jonathan Quinn.

Altair grits his teeth and bangs on the wall as hard as he can, barely making a sound. The people outside don't even notice. His prison is airtight.

Ursa places the Box inside the Cortex, clearly dismayed, and the machine whirs to life. Juno stirs briefly in her bonds but doesn't open her eyes. Not yet.

What will this machine do to her?

With that done, Jonathan waves his shooter at Ursa and she moves to the keypad on the machine, pressing buttons, turning dials. Juno stirs a little more.

"Leave her alone!" Altair screams, banging on the glass again.

No reaction from the outside world.

The third figure out there, Jude, watching Jonathan and Ursa intently from nearby, now steps up to the helpless Juno, reaching out and putting his hands on her cheeks, lifting
her unconscious head up. He steps in and kisses her.

"You bloody bastard!" Altair growls, banging on the glass, kicking it relentlessly using the Omnite technique.

"Don't bother," a sullen voice mumbles from behind him. "It's made of kimberlite. Completely indestructible." Altair turns and looks at Pilcrow again, but the mutant literally hasn't moved. His head still hangs between his tucked up legs.

Altair shakes his head. "There
has
to be a weakness," he says. "They put us in here. There has to be a door."

"I've never found it," Pilcrow grumbles. "And I've been in here for a week." He lifts his head for a moment, meeting Altair with a haunted, desperate red gaze. "It's over, Altair. The Quinns have won. They're gonna set
off that machine and cure the mutations, killing their own daughter in the process." His head falls back down.

Altair gasps. "K
ill her?" he repeats. His heart hammers. Rarely does he let fear overwhelm him…but rarely is he ever this helpless.
There has to be a door!

He starts moving around the box, feeling the wall
s, looking for a crack. All he sees is a label stenciled on the outside: SPECIMEN CAGE. It's a large cage, so it probably housed large specimens at one time–whatever they were. There
has
to be a door. Frustrated, Altair pounds at the glass again, his leather tunic jacket, hanging open, flailing like rudders behind him.

Suddenly, something clatters to the floor behind him.

He turns, thinking Pilcrow must have dropped a piece of metal, but instead he sees a familiar five pointed object at his feet. He immediately pats down his jacket, searching for more. Jude must have found the others when he was knocked out, but Altair always keeps one secreted away in the lining of his jacket.

A throwing star.

One of the sharpest objects in the world.

He leans d
own and picks it up, feeling the surprising weight for such a small weapon. He holds it between his right thumb and forefinger, one point directly outward. He leans in close to the glass and presses the point to it firmly. He pulls the throwing star downward. A light scratch is the result. Tiny flakes of glass fall to the floor. He sneaks a look at his captors, but they're still enrapt in the Cortex and Juno. He scratches at the glass again, digging deeper. As he suspected, the glass is kimberlite, one of the hardest known substances in the world. But, like the glass, his throwing stars are made from
another
of the hardest known substances.

Amantium
. Nearly indestructible itself.

He scratches at the glass, again and again. The gouge gets a little deeper. He keeps at it, now ma
king new scratches perpendicular to the first. He makes more and more, working furiously until there's a large star shaped pattern gouged into the surface of the glass half an inch deep. He puts pressure at the very center of the scratches, feeling the sharp edges of the grooves. He pockets his throwing star and steps back from the glass, retaking the Omnite stance. He lashes out, striking at the center with a lethally placed kick.

Nothing happens.

He tries again.

Nothing.

Then again.

Nothing.

"What are you doing?" Pilcrow complains from his corner, head still hanging low.

"Trying," Altair retorts, kicking at the glass yet again. "You should try it some time." He huffs. "You're ten times as strong as I am. Why don't you give it a go?"

Pilcrow just laughs, not moving.

Altair shakes his head and returns to the glass.

Outside, something’s happening.

Juno’
s awake!

And she's
just spit in Jude's face!

Altair laughs, feeling undeniable affection for the
girl with the fiery red hair–a feeling that’s been growing stronger and stronger of late.

You care about her
, Navani's voice floats to him from memory.
You
really
care about her, don't you?

"I can't. I'm not supposed to," Altair whispers to h
imself. "An Assassin shall not know anger, nor hatred, nor love. Remember?"

The Assassins no longer exist, Altair,
Navani's memory tells him.
We are the only two left on this planet...

Altair shakes his head, but he knows that she's right.

Outside the box, Ursa is pointing in his direction. Juno's eyes find him, her expression betraying deep worry and anxiety. "It's going to be okay," he says aloud, mouthing the words slowly and deliberately. Juno shakes her head, becoming adamant. He sees her arguing with her Father, with Ursa. Jude watches nearby expectantly. 

Bellowing in frustration, Altair kicks at the wall again.

"Will you stop that!" Pilcrow whines from his corner. "I told you it's no use!"

Altair sneers at the mutant. "What happened to you?" he asks. "You were once the most formidable adversary I ever faced! Now... You're not even worth the oxygen that's keeping us alive in here! I don't know why Jonathan Quinn just didn't kill you and get it over with!"

"I wish he had," Pilcrow mumbles, shaking his downtrodden head. "Then at least I wouldn't have to feel anything. Death would be preferable to this." Pilcrow shudders and Altair realizes that the big lug is actually crying. "I have nothing to live for. Ever since Tien was taken from me..."

Altair hesitates, sure he had just misheard.

"Did you just say
Tien
?" he asks.

"Yeah," Pilcrow confirms. "What of it? He was my son."

"You're…
son
?"

Altair suddenly feels as if a massive piece of a puzzle has just snapped into place. He'd always known that Pilcrow's motivation against Jonathan Quinn was the kidnapping
of his son, but Tien? That nice little mutant boy that Juno had had a crush on?

Could it be the same Tien?

Altair literally leaps over toward Pilcrow, hunkering on his knees next to the sulking brute. "What happened to him?" he asks, trying to be tactful.

Pilc
row finally lifts his head, eyes glazed with tears. "You know what happened!" He growls, baring his needle-like teeth. "Jonathan Quinn kidnapped him and a bunch of other boys so that they could do experiments on them! It took me years to find out who did it! By that time, Tien was long gone!"

"Dead?" Altair asks, prodding to see what Pilcrow actually knows.

Pilcrow shakes his head. "I never found out. Not for sure. But he has to be! I've searched all the labs associated with the Quinns, and never found any trace of him. He
has
to be dead."

Altair hesitates. He has to tread
very
carefully here. "Pilcrow," he says, "I want you to listen to me carefully. Your son, Tien, he was alive up until about a month ago. He'd been living at a facility out in the Grasslands, just beyond the Southern Cities. There were other boys there too. One was called Dura. Another was Jurid. Do those names ring any–"

Pilcrow springs to his feet without warning, grabbing Altair by the throat and slamming him up against the wall of the box with tremendous force.

"You better not be lying to me, Assassin!" Pilcrow snarls. Altair chokes, his feet kicking helplessly against the glass. "Those names belong to other boys who were taken at the same time as Tien!"

"I lie to you not!" Altair manages to
croak out. "They still live at the facility out in the Grasslands! All of them! Tien was with them up until a month ago. Until something happened. The Children of Mutanity found the place."

Pilcrow lowers Altair but keeps his massive hand loosely
clasped about his throat. "What happened to Tien?" he snarls.

"They killed him," Altair coughs. "The boys managed to put up a fight, and they won, but Tien was killed in the fray. I'm sorry. I
–"

"Who?" Pilcrow demands. "Who killed him!"
 

Altair nods his head
straight backwards. "He's in the very same room we are, Pilcrow," he answers truthfully. "Jude. The young man who brought me and my friends here. He was indoctrinated by the Children and led them on a chase around the world after Juno. They wanted the last human. There was a standoff in the Grasslands. Juno had feelings for Tien. Jude killed him out of spite."

Altair doesn't know if that last part i
s the
actual
truth–he'd been unconscious for the whole thing, after all–but it’s what Pilcrow will want to hear. 

The mutant releases him, snarling in rage. "
Jude
," he whispers. And with that, Pilcrow backs himself against the far wall of the glass box, lowering his shoulder as if getting ready to pounce.