Bedlam (20 page)

‘I’ve noticed that the concept of Integrity doesn’t preclude
borrowing monsters from completely different games,’ Ross whispered.

‘They’re usually a bit more circumspect. Guess they don’t need to worry so much when they’re way out on the fringes, because
nobody lives here. I mean, come on, who would? But the fact that they came prepared with this kind of muscle indicates they
must have a serious hard-on for you, which is very bad news for us.’

‘Why are they interested in me? How do they even know about me?’

‘The Integrity have got eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve got a few sources myself, but I was a few steps behind on this one.
That’s why I headed out hoping to intercept you but ended up having to bust you out of jail. It was tight, dude: if I’d gotten
there just a little bit later, that would have been all she wrote. The Integrity, like everybody else, are physically governed
by the rules of whichever world they’re in, which is why you were able to break out with the crowbar. But there is a world
that
they
created, where
they
make the rules, and if you end up there, nobody is ever busting you out.’

They watched the search party proceed into the main body of the abbey, leaving two soldiers posted at the sacristy door. Even
as the stomp of their boots and the thumping gait of the troll receded inside, other sounds carried on the air, suggesting
a growing encroachment.

Solderburn moved across to the other side of the passage and Ross followed, both of them peering through another arch a few
feet above a slope of wet slates.

‘Oh, man, acute lossage,’ he groaned.

Below them the monastery compound was like an ant farm, crawling with black figures, and beyond its walls Ross could see more
on their way, both on foot and in armoured vehicles.

‘Looks like the Integrity chose this place for their annual convention,’ he observed.

It wasn’t just the Integrity, though. Ross could see Nazis and resistance fighters converging too, united against the cyborg
threat. They were pouring in from all sides, like he had a five-star wanted rating on
Grand Theft Auto
.

‘Where is this transit, did you say?’ Ross asked.

‘In the dorter. That is, the monks’ dormitory.’

‘I mean, where’s that?’

Solderburn pointed over the rooftops to a building that stood apart from the abbey, though it was still within the monastery’s
walls.

‘You see that structure at the end of the avenue of trees, the one that’s totally swarming with Integrity troops?’

‘Naturally. Does this mean they know about the transit?’

‘I don’t think so. There’s a pretty big main transit they use to get in and out of this world. The secret one would be too
tight a squeeze for the troll, never mind the vehicles they came with. Ironically, if they knew there was a transit in there,
they wouldn’t be guarding it: they’d leave it wide open but station a snatch squad and wait for us to walk into the trap.’

‘They told me it would speed up my release if I told them where the gateway was between
Starfire
and here. I didn’t, though.’

‘You held out under torture. Way to go, man.’

‘No, I’d have coughed it in no time. They just got off the subject before I could tell them.’

‘Either way, it’s a win. In any given world, once they control all the transits, that’s game over. But as long as there remain
covert ways in and out, it can still be pulled back from the brink. That’s what makes this an all-or-nothing gambit. If we
get caught heading for the dorter, they’re gonna know why.’

‘Why
are
they guarding the building then?’

‘They’re not. Looks like they’re just using it as a muster point. They’re sending out search parties and allocating snatch
squads. Standard practice is to man the spawn points and wait until you get fragged.’

‘Yeah, found that one out first-hand. How did they know we were in the monastery?’

‘Couldn’t have been too tricky to work out. Follow the trail of decapitated zombies. Plus, as I said, they got eyes and ears
everywhere. First thing they do once they got a foothold in a world is take control of the NPCs, and I mean
all
the entities. So those birds you saw take off, they went from being pigeons to
stool
-pigeons. And it’s not like you’re difficult to spot, dude.’

‘Yes, if only I’d packed my summer wardrobe,’ Ross said irritably.

Solderburn’s face lit up with a strange mixture of surprise and self-reproach.

‘Shit, that’s it. I almost forgot.’

‘What?’

‘I think I can cook us up a little distraction, get those assholes away from the dormitory. I forgot to give you this. You
wouldn’t get far without it, in fact. Some transits are passive, so you could walk or fall through them without even realising,
like the one that took you here from
Starfire
. Others need one of these.’

Solderburn held up a tablet, just like the one the Sarge had given him, except that the blank slab of glass had the Mobius
strip logo etched in the top-right corner.

‘You know what this is?’

‘Yes, I had one similar that I got from the marines in
Starfire
, but the Integrity confiscated it.’

‘If you got it from
Starfire
, it wasn’t worth confiscating, but the Integrity didn’t know that. This is what they assumed you had, because if you’re packing
one of these, it means you’re a sworn member of the resistance: a genuine Diasporado.’

Ross gripped it, but Solderburn held on to it for a second in order to underline the symbolism of the moment. He’d never struck
Ross as the most sentimental of individuals, but he could tell this meant something to the guy.

‘The one the marines gave you was just an in-game interface, which is why even the NPCs could use it to jump from the single-player
campaign mode to the multiplayer maps. This is a serious upgrade.’

‘So what’s new in this model?’ Ross asked, holding it in his palm.

‘Well, for one thing, you don’t need it to be in your hand. Just think: HUD.’

Ross did. The tablet disappeared and instead the information became overlaid upon his field of vision, the text and symbols
transparent: an integral Heads Up Display. Instead of merely the tabs governing access to what the marines had called the
training arena, there was a whole list of new sub-menus.

‘I’ll take you through it when we got a little more time and privacy, but, for now, let’s get you some new duds.’

Ross followed Solderburn’s instructions and immediately saw
an array of images showcasing alternative appearances, from Gralaks and marines to Nazis, GIs and French civilians, plus zombie
versions of the latter three.

‘When you enter any gameworld, you’ll automatically get a corresponding selection of models and costumes to choose from. You
can choose a face from the list as well, but bear in mind that if you’re wearing one of those, people will assume you’re an
NPC. You’ll need to show the real you if you want to start a constructive conversation.’

‘Well the real me isn’t a bloody cyborg,’ Ross said, morphing into a French Resistance costume with a pleasing hint of the
beatnik about it.

Strangely, he didn’t feel any different.

‘So what’s the plan?’ he asked.

‘
I
become “a bloody cyborg”,’ Solderburn mimicked, his imitation extending to the physical as he transformed into a Gralak.
‘It’s you they’re after, dude. I’m gonna make myself nice and visible, and when everybody’s busy looking at me, that’s when
you slip through the net.’

‘But how are
you
going to get away?’

Solderburn toggled through several costumes, much as Ross had seen Cicerus do back in the cell.

‘Don’t worry about me, noob, I’m a gnarly vet at this shit.’

As Solderburn spoke, the door from the transept flew open at troll-assisted speed and the search party poured through it,
guns raised. It took them a crucial moment to locate their two targets crouching in the shadows, by which time Ross had switched
his machine-gun for the Panzerfaust and pulled the trigger. The rocket-propelled warhead travelled its way along the dark
passageway in a split second, giving the incomers no time to react before it hit the troll square in the chest and exploded.

The blast took out all but one of the search party. He was sent sprawling but had recovered into a crouching position behind
the troll’s dismembered trunk by the time the smoke cleared. Ross and Solderburn reacted as one, moving either side of the
passageway, laying down suppressing fire every time the Integrity trooper stuck his head above the huge barrel of charred
flesh. Ross was on the courtyard side, and had to duck away
from an open archway as a burst of fire ripped into the stone from the two soldiers who had been positioned below.

The survivor behind the troll saw this as an opportunity to make a break for it, but Solderburn’s concentration had not been
broken by the volley from beneath. A round from his shotgun finished the job, at which point Ross lobbed a grenade down into
the courtyard, causing the two sentries to break from cover. He stepped back into the archway and raised his machine-gun,
but felt Solderburn’s now metal-encrusted hand diverting the barrel downwards.

‘They’re starting the ball rolling for us,’ he said. ‘Let ’em run off and report the big news. I’m gonna head up the bell-tower,
make myself visible. You get your ass down to ground level and blend in. When you see them take the bait, you make your move.
The transit is at the far end of the dormitory: looks like a window but it’s a hologram. You can pass behind it.’

‘Where does it lead? Is it the next link in the daisy chain or somewhere further?’

‘This far out on the fringes, we’re down to the paths very much less travelled by. You should prepare yourself for things
getting a bit weird from here on in.’

‘You mean as opposed to the nondescript mundanity I’ve encountered so far?’

Ross climbed into the archway, a step over the ledge offering the most direct route to the courtyard below. He was in the
act of launching himself when Solderburn grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back.

‘Falling damage,’ he warned. ‘This isn’t
Quake
, dude. Gravity hurts.’

‘Got it.’

Ross was about to walk away, but Solderburn kept a firm hold of him for one more moment.

‘Listen: we get split up for any reason, you seek out the Diasporadoes. They might be a little skittish but they’ll help you.
Just don’t piss information around: be careful what you say and who you say it to. And remember, people here may not be who
they claim. The Integrity have spies everywhere, and they don’t all wear black. Good luck, dude.’

And with that, Solderburn was off, running back in the direction of the transept and the bell-tower beyond it, his gait still
incongruously dainty, even more so now that he was in cyborg form. It seemed that here, the way you saw yourself, the person
you really were inside, could become manifest no matter what mask, skin or costume you wore. Solderburn was, after all, a
free spirit, a capricious ‘flake’ who didn’t like to be burdened by the needs of pragmatism, and, in this realm, he didn’t
need to be. Ross wondered briefly what elemental aspect of his own psyche might be revealing itself despite his disguise,
but given that he was engaged in attempting to slip through enemy lines incognito, it probably wasn’t the most constructive
line of thinking at that particular moment.

He descended a tightly spiralling staircase that took him down to a cramped and gloomy library. He flattened himself against
the wall before peeking out towards the courtyard, where he could see dozens of troops storming towards the abbey, the faceless
Integrity drones letting the NPCs take the vanguard. He couldn’t chance going out there, because if he was seen he’d have
to join ranks with the rest of the French Resistance guys or risk giving himself away.

He made his way to the back of the library, where he found a wooden door leading outside. He nudged it open just a couple
of inches, enough to see the swarm of activity that was surrounding the compound. Integrity commanders were giving orders,
despatching units to every entry point, but that still left a lot of personnel in the vicinity of the dorter. As well as the
armoured vehicles, Ross could also see the futuristic mega-tank that had first warned him these guys weren’t from around here.
It was still beyond the outer walls, approaching the main gate with a slow but ominous ground-trembling trundle.

Then Ross heard a new outbreak of gunfire and the sound of grenade blasts, upon which the besieging hordes erupted into frantic
response. He saw soldiers pointing, heard them shout, all previous search directives superseded as they were given a specific
focus for their attention.

He stepped outside the door and into full view. All it took to be invisible was to stare up at the bell-tower, because that’s
what everybody else was doing. Solderburn was hopping around up there like a zinc-galvanised Quasimodo, firing indiscriminately
with machine-guns he must have taken from felled enemies.

All around Ross, soldiers were returning fire, but it was clear to him that they would be at it a while. Solderburn was indeed
a gnarly vet. He could hold that position for ages, tossing grenades down the staircase at anybody who tried to ascend, and
enjoying the elevated angle of fire upon a bounteous profusion of targets below. He concentrated particularly sustained volleys
of fire towards the dorter, causing the troops mustering there to seek cover elsewhere, as well as messily thinning their
numbers.

Thousands of rounds were fired up in retaliation, but Solderburn was giving a salutary demonstration of why bell-towers and
snipers were synonymous. Nothing was hitting him up there, with even the odd stray nick only requiring him to avoid further
damage for a few seconds while his health bar regenerated.

The troops on the ground realised that something beefier was called for, and several Panzerfaust were loosed towards Solderburn’s
position. The first three shot past and disappeared into the wet and permanent dusk of the skies, but the fourth found its
mark, engulfing one of the archways in smoke and flame. To Ross’s relief, Solderburn appeared again a few seconds later, as
unharmed as the bell-tower was undamaged. It took him just a moment to suss why: the game environment was non-destructible.
There would be a few breakable windows, doors and walls, but, whether for story purposes or for death-match, that tower was
supposed to remain standing no matter what.