Gudsriki (14 page)

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Authors: Ari Bach

BOOK: Gudsriki
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War. Accusations, allegations, acquisitions. He marveled at it. Veikko had single handedly fucked up the entire planet. And then the net was gone. It didn't come back.

The war began and the missiles flew. He stayed with Varg to inflict fear upon him, the now permanent fear he would have to overcome to be a Geki. The once powerful
übermensch
stayed curled up by his side like a cat in a lightning storm.

So he sat next to Varg and kept a hand on his side, and rubbed his shoulder to let him know that whatever the fear did to him, he had a friend to face it with. They would be good friends someday. They were useless until then. They could only watch as the world unraveled.

Varg slowly regained his wits. He resolved himself and became functional within only a couple weeks. He got his pulse gland implanted. The fear now came from within him. But he had no flame. There was no sign of that implant. They would seek it together, but without another attempted use the small mechanism was exactly that: a tiny device that could be hidden anywhere. They would seek Veikko as well, but he was just a burnt corpse, and the world now held sixteen billion of those.

In time Varg learned the few lessons Valhalla hadn't taught him. Months later he was a Geki. A young Geki but a capable one. He trained with Maggie's jump cloak and its vision features. He wouldn't get to use it to jump as often as he'd hoped. It cost UNEGA taxpayers three million euros every time the Geki jumped. The satellite system was still in place, and it still held thirty-eight jump charges. That meant nineteen more jumps for the two of them. After that there would be no devoted top secret cargo rocket to replace them. After that the Geki days of jumping across the globe would be over for good. They would have to use them sparingly. They would have to function as creatures of opportunity, and of philosophy.

The motto of the Geki was out of date. Shit was fucked up. The treaty was dissolved; the purpose was obsolete. So Varg and the elder forged a new mission: “Burn The Motherfuckers Responsible.” First that meant finding the flame implant. Still with under twenty jumps, they agreed to wait until the flame implant showed up on its own, when someone tried to use it again. It was too small an object to seek by jumping around the globe where they thought it might be. Finding Veikko, the first Motherfucker in question, was also regrettably relegated to an inactive hunt. They would only seek targets of high importance they knew they could jump to reliably.

Strictly speaking, Cato wasn't on that list. But when April came and the Geki had remained utterly inactive, merely surviving in the subbasement of their ruins playing card games and arguing about old Valhalla missions, they were willing to promote Cato to an “Estate Card” level priority, beneath “Duchy Card,” “Province Card,” and the “Colony Card”—Veikko himself. After such delays they would take any intel that revealed any Motherfucker regardless of their degree of responsibility for the actual war, or for any escalation thereafter.

All that is to say, when they heard a link snippet of Cato taking his Bugatti to kill Vibeke from Varg's old team, they were more than happy to spend a couple jumps on burning him to death. So they did: Varg because they got to burn Cato and likely save Vibeke's life (and he admitted he simply wanted to see her again, even if it caused her to fall into horrific terror) and the elder because it gave him a chance to do something he'd been wanting to do for months.

So Varg stayed with Vibeke for a moment as the elder Geki checked in on the girl he'd checked in on before. Before the war, before the fall, before shit got fucked up forever. He finally had a location for her, a way to see her, to make sure she'd survived the war unscathed.

She hadn't. She was dead.

 

 

V
IBEKE
. H
E
had shot her in the neck once with a field piercing shell. Scipio—Cato the damned bastard—didn't mention she was on Violet's team.

Wulfgar remembered how miserable Violet had felt at the prospect of losing the woman. The fact Vibeke was alone suggested Violet was dead, but if she wasn't, Vibeke would be the ideal bait.

She was the absolute top priority. Wulfgar pulled back the entire 3rd and 4th forces and directed them to Orkney. He needed the island for the UKI but needed the girl more.

Goddamn Scipio. He would have killed her; Wulfgar knew it. Best he had been killed by her fire attack, however she'd done it. The reports suggested she had summoned two demons who breathed fire at him. Whatever really happened, Wulfgar wouldn't miss the bastard. He would have killed her. He could have invited her with him and she might have come. She could be in his clutches right then, summoning Violet.

Wulfgar kicked his trash ring across the room. He had to put his mind on something else. Luckily, something else presented itself.

The lab was almost finished with their work. A feat of genetic engineering that had cost Wulfgar nearly twenty million Loups to accomplish in the postwar mess. But it was done, and he felt all the better for it. He knew it was good work, that it would be appreciated.

The proud technicians handed him the container. He looked inside. It didn't look like he expected, given its lack of a shell. It stank to high heaven. He closed the container and exhaled. Then he headed for the lagoon.

It was one of the fortress's only recreational areas and a fortuitous one given Wulfgar's needs. He sat down on the faux stone and pulled the giant clam out of its container. He threw it into the water and whistled.

Umberto came splashing over to eat his giant clam. He was overjoyed to get a real mollusk instead of the synthetic food he'd been eating since his arrival. Wulfgar was most satisfied to see the giant animal gorge itself, slurping up the disgusting creation bit by bit. He was glad the poor thing had been grown without a nervous system.

Umberto finished his meal and nuzzled Wulfgar with his vibrissae.

“Lots more where that came from, big guy.” He rubbed the animal's head. “We'll grow 'em by the ton.”

A knock came at the lagoon door.

“Come.”

Gerät entered.

“This had better be important, Karl, I'm with my walrus.”

“Yes, sire. Some religionist groups seem to be militarizing. Muslims in Mongol Uls, Christians in Tromsø and—”

“Karl….”

“Yes, sire.”

“I agree that is important news. But do you think it's really walrus-interrupting important?”

“Sire, military action by a religious coalition can—”

“It will be dealt with in ten minutes when I finish feeding my walrus, Karl.”

“Yes, sire.”

Gerät did an about-face and departed.

“They just don't understand us, do they, big guy?”

Umberto barked and flopped over. Another knock came at the door. Wulfgar calmly stood and exhaled. He walked to the door and opened it. Stiletto stood before him.

“Stiletto?”

“Yes, sire, I have—”

“Before you speak, Stiletto, I want to know, did you pass Gerät in the hall?”

“Yes, sire, but—”

“And did Gerät have anything to say to you?”

“Yes, sire, he informed me you didn't wish to be bothered, but—”

“But. I want you to remember, you said ‘but' right then. Now tell me, Stiletto: after you were told by Gerät specifically not to bother me, what ‘but' was so overwhelmingly important that you thought you should still, still disturb me during my walrus hour?”

“Hati, sire.”

Stiletto was off the hook. Wulfgar's expression changed immediately, an impressive feat when half of it was a metal chainsaw jaw.

“Is she here?”

Hati jogged forward from behind Stiletto and his assistants.

“Hati!” shouted Wulfgar.

“Dad!” she called back.

The two hugged on the spot and Wulfgar closed the door on Stiletto without comment. Stiletto was the last person on his mind.

 

 

A
FTER
THE
infliction of fear and spectacle of fire, the powers that be were very happy to give Vibeke a boat if it would get rid of her. Vibeke had defended the island, yes, but her methods were unbecoming of a warrior. They were simply too violent for war, but more importantly too unpredictable. She didn't work for the UKI. She was a private contractor who had offered and completed services in exchange for one boat, and she would not be hired again.

“Where will you go?” asked Therion.

“Never planned that part.”

“You wanted a boat and you got it, but you never had anywhere to go?”

“You know as well as I do, there's no place left. No. I don't know where I'm going. Right now I'd be content to sail out to the middle of the ocean to die.”

“Waste of a good boat.”

Dr. Niide stepped up beside her and said, “North.” He sat down.

“Why north?” asked Vibs. They sat together, and Therion ignored them.

“Veikko and Skadi headed back to the ravine. I'm not sure why. I don't think they intended to seize it. None of the Valkyries I've encountered seem to want it back, now that its best parts—” Niide polished his apple, meaning himself. “—have all left. Or died.”

“The ravine is still there? Veikko is alive?”

“In a manner of speaking. Skadi brought him to me dead and minus 60 percent. Odd thing is she wouldn't let me finish him. Demanded I leave his face missing. Demanded I hurry to pack him into an A-1 and—”

“A-1?”

“You never saw it, did you? An experiment we had prepared for the next Valkyrie to die. Complete biomechanical reconstruction in a ready-made application. We spent the last twenty years developing it with every implant and replaced limb that your injuries allowed us. With the A-1 we could simply root out as little as the brain and spine and plug them in, and voilà: the toughest, most capable body a Valkyrie could want. We were going to test it on a soldier here, but they seem uninterested. Not like the good fellows of the ravine. No chutzpah.”

“Veikko's rebuilt, then? In an A-1?”

“In the prototype, and not quite rebuilt. Skadi stole him halfway through the procedure, crammed it onto a cargo skiff and left. The complete system is attached, but it was never assembled. He should be able to assemble it himself, though he has no guide. Last he was seen, Veikko was a faceless mass of electronics with no safeguards.”

“What kind of safeguards?”

“The A-1 system is a hundred times stronger than a human body. It's not kind to its organic components. His body is too strong, we never got to implement the safeguards that weaken it to suit a human being. Skadi took him from us quite violently.”

“Why would Skadi do that?”

“She holds him responsible for the state of Valhalla, and the world at large. I'm not entirely certain she's wrong.”

“And you think they went to the ravine?”

“Yes, she had plans for him there. What is anyone's guess. Robbed me of my test subject, though.”

“Then I head north.”

“And do you care to take your beloved muscle tissue sample with you?”

“No, throw it out. Experiment on it. Whatever you want.”

“Very good. I'm glad you've come to your senses.”

“I don't think there's any sense left in this world at all.”

The boat sailed northward. Svalbarð was 4,000 kilometers away, and the boat was capable of just over 150 per hour. A daylong trip. She set the destination and let her sail.

Then she was alone. The Tikaris sat together on the deck, monitoring for any threats. Violet's Tikari. It was time to kill it. To end the last of her. She stood and took her microwave in her hand. She aimed it. The Tikari didn't move. Bob just looked at them both. And Vibeke couldn't fire.

Vibeke had killed nearly four hundred human beings since she arrived in Valhalla. She hadn't hesitated to fire on a single one of them. And she couldn't fire. The sensation was completely unfamiliar to her. She felt like something was broken. She was almost tempted to head back to Niide to see what was wrong. She couldn't kill Nelson. She couldn't kill the last bit of Violet she had.

As a child Vibeke couldn't play with any digital animals. They depressed her. Her mother had told her that they were better than real animals; they'd never die, never feel pain, and that should have made her feel better, but it made her feel worse. She felt terrible if she neglected to play with them, because they simulated happiness when she did. She felt worse if she forgot to feed them, though they didn't need to be fed. Nelson was now at the core of her empathies.

Vibeke lay down in the small cabin and set her mind on other tasks. She naturally felt outward for any sign of a link, but there was nothing. She had nothing but time to think. Her first thoughts were about Cato. Cato had killed Alf. Worked for Wulfgar. He called himself Scipio, which sounded familiar to Vibeke, but she couldn't place it.

Then to the Geki. They had acted on her orders. And there were two again, after Veikko had killed one. If the Geki had worked for UNEGA and GAUNE, then they were free agents now. But why would they work for her? And where had she seen that shrug before? She knew where but couldn't accept it. It was an offense, somewhere between a betrayal or defection and a student graduating before his class, without her.

She had no answers, so she turned to where her mind both wanted and feared to go. Violet's heart—the mission she'd carried on her back that last month—was gone. Destroyed unceremoniously by Dr. Niide if he did as she asked. And surely he did. He was right, of course. About everything. She had to move on before it started eating away at her. If it hadn't already.

What was she thinking? Keeping a lump of flesh when her brain was annihilated.

Months ago.

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