Ragnarok (42 page)

Violet MacRae, in person. He questioned whether he should have stayed to bite her head off then and there. But no, she had the advantage. Two of them with blades, one of him with a Thunder 5. One had penetrated one of their necks before but not the suit. He'd have had to aim for the heads. And he wanted Violet's head intact. He had plans for that head.

Not to mention the knives in his chest and face. Violet's friends had made her into a killing machine. Quite unlike his own machine Violet. A shame, a true shame they destroyed it. But surely the real girl would head back home, right where he was going. And he knew she would accept his challenge. She'd do it to save her base. To save her friends. It was the perfect design.

A fleet of sixteen armed pogos, four battle pogos, and two cargopogos departed Hashima. Wulfgar stood in one cargopogo and examined the drill. A mining drill he'd purchased from Zolfo while awake on Venus, rebuilt to the specifications of his contact within Valhalla, able to penetrate their rampart.

It was small, only two meters in diameter and four meters long, but it would prove sufficient for its purpose. He linked to Steel Toed Boots.

“Take command, I'm getting in.”

“Roger H. Wilco.”

Wulfgar climbed into the drill's capsule and closed the trap door, sealing it shut. He wanted some time to think.

He wanted to kill Violet. Badly. And he was heading toward her home. But not for her, for business. She would be icing on the cake, nothing more. Though Wulfgar's favorite part of the cake was always the icing.

 

 

T
HE
DAY
he chose his name, Veikko promised himself he'd never be called Loki again. He was not Loki. He was a new man, born fully grown and native to Valhalla. Eric had granted him new skin. Niide gave him a new body, or a new body part at least. And Balder had given him new purpose. Not the ideal purpose, though. Balder was adamant that Cetaceans were harmless critters to be left alone. Veikko, of course, knew better.

But such things were quickly forgotten. Training had begun. Veikko learned a hundred ways to kill. Then a hundred more, and after that another hundred with the promise of hundreds more to come. That he learned to fight was no surprise. What surprised him was that he quickly learned to laugh. He had been a somber, angry child. But in the paradise of the ravine, he quickly manifested a humorous streak. Timid at first, in his first month, he grew rapidly outlandish, especially where Skadi was concerned.

She was stunning. Tall but far from gawky. Buff but not visibly in her armor. Veikko loved that armor, not just on himself. It was as if the front carriage showcased her small, firm breasts. He was shocked one morning to see her showering off outside of the gym, naked in front of him without a second thought. It was clear, though, she saw him, that nudity was nothing to her. The opposite of Cetacean thought, in which any dweller topside would be expected to wear an armor suit over their air suit over their wetsuit over their underwear over their skin suit over their lipid layer. So the sight meant everything to Veikko. It was by far the best memory he kept in his head, and indeed he made sure to back it up in several cloud partitions.

But Skadi didn't laugh. At anything. Everyone in the ravine enjoyed his jokes, his practical jokes, his general demeanor. Skadi was as cold as cold got, and in winter on Kvitøya that was saying a lot. So he tried constantly to no avail. The hopeless quest fell back to second place after his training, which, to his delight, literally included “kill training.” He had to kill someone.
With pleasure
, he thought as they revealed his target. A Cetacean pirate. A nasty one who had tortured families topside. Veikko didn't want to show off his delight. Years of Cetacean social mores told him not to be proud of killing, so he did it painlessly and regretted that ever since.

Then he was given a daughter. He knew he'd be getting a team as time went on, but he was surprised when R team dropped a beaten, wrecked girl in his lap. They fixed her up, of course, but she was clearly a victim of an incredibly hard life. Yet she was not a victim at all. She was angry, feisty. She was furious they'd hacked her brain to determine her bedding preferences, though, in fact, they'd merely done their research. She told him she'd been in prison, in a riot. He told her that in her new prison, he was the riot. He proved it by making the girl laugh and felt a pride he'd never felt before. He felt as close as he'd ever feel to a parent, and it suited him well.

Until he taught her to spar. She didn't like his sparring music. She disemboweled him for it. As Dr. Niide stuffed his guts back in, Veikko lost the fatherly vibe. He had no choice but to see Vibeke as anything but an equal. A rarity for a girl, given the Cetacean sexual dimorphism he'd been raised with. He'd never imagined a girl could be as vicious as he'd always felt. And so unapologetically so. He was amazed by landloper girls and tingly all over to imagine Skadi was such a warrior at heart.

Not too long after his disemboweling, he and Vibeke monitored a Scottish girl for their team. She caught G team's eye by killing the men who killed her family. She seemed like their type of girl, so they kept her on the list of potentials as G team continued the hunt. Then Violet beat the living shit out of her entire barracks rather than be hazed. Veikko and Vibeke agreed she was their next team member. The three watched a Deutsch boy for the last, and the team was complete.

They grew together through the trial of Udachnaya, through the takedowns of the Orange Gang and Sasha Suvorov. And all the while, Veikko felt just a millimeter held back. It was Alf mostly, an older man who reminded him a little too much of his father. He was restrained. Reserved and smart, to be sure, all the positives of age, but he was also afraid. Alf was afraid of the Geki. And that fear, even though he'd experienced the fear they caused firsthand, was a shame to let linger the way he did. He felt Valhalla was wrong to remain subservient to anyone or anything. But it was of little concern. He was on Earth, he was killing for a living, and he was still in a place infinitely better than under the sea.

That outlook changed quickly when he heard of the Ares. The power to deliver the world to his nemesis. And the elders wouldn't let him nuke the damn thing. He snapped then and there on their first order to use restraint on the nuclear option. The Geki had to go. Veikko would happily die fighting them, but he couldn't resist fighting them any longer. He vowed to use the nuke if only to summon the things and deliver them into his hand. Then he would take their fire weaponry and be a god among gods.

He realized as he plotted out the Geki demise that their fire was what he was really after. Not merely their deaths, but their ability to induce fear—not by the Farnesene Pulse but by their ability to destroy Valhalla. That was what Alf truly feared. The solution was unavoidable. He had to kill the Geki and take their flames. Then Alf would fear
him
.

Violet heroically nuked the shit out of the offending device. And for their accomplishment, they were punished exactly as Veikko had hoped. The Geki would come for them. Not only that, but the Geki were, in Balder's estimation, no more than common human beings with advanced weaponry. The kind he killed for breakfast. Finally, it was time for the Geki to die.

He planned it out. He set Sal to find him when they took him. It was a huge risk. He had no guarantee their transportation tricks would leave any trace. But Sal found it, the brilliant bumbling bug, and Veikko accomplished his ultimate goal. Or half of it. Upon escape from the realm of fear, he gained a new concern to keep him afraid—there was still another Geki out there. He didn't know why it wasn't there to begin with or why it didn't come back to kill him when its partner died. But his hacks into Valhalla solved that. The Geki wanted them to kill him. Easy day—if he could kill the Geki, he could handle his old pals.

He was to meet Violet and Vibeke in an old grill they'd once visited. On the slow GET there, he formulated his plans to handle the ravine. It was a difficult task, in fact, the hardest puzzle he'd ever solved. But solve it he did, and by the time he arrived in Vadsø, he knew each step of the plan.

He knew how to deal with Alf and Balder, and Cato too just for fun. He knew how to deal with the Ares, now that it was known to have survived. And he knew how to deal with the restraint he'd been given over the last year. His plan solved more problems than it needed to. He only needed to stay alive. But now he was going to reign in a world of fire. With only a few sacrifices.

Violet and Vibeke landed in the parking lot and stepped out.

“We don't tell him anything about us, right?” asked Violet.

“Right, absolutely, he can't know. Nobody can, not yet.”

Veikko turned the corner and saw them. The trio walked in together and took a seat in a booth.

“So, you two have very clearly had sex.”

Violet looked away, Vibeke face-palmed.

“Oh wow,” said Veikko. “I was kidding. Did you seriously?”

“Why is Alopex gonna kill me?” asked Violet.

“The elders are under the impression you're a sexual predator.”

“Shit.”

Veikko tried briefly to be polite and not ask but failed. “Are you?”

Violet simply didn't know. She could hardly deny it after what she'd done, but their lovers' quarrels weren't any of the elders' business. Or was what she'd done so severe that it was? Did she deserve to die for it? In her lowest moments since, she'd have said yes. But with Vibeke, together, the thought was doubly sickening—Vibeke didn't deserve to lose her, not now.

“Okeydokeythen,” said Veikko.

“I can log in,” said Vibeke. “Explain it to them. They wouldn't do it if they knew we'd… reconciled.”

“You might be surprised. They sounded pretty resolute. But if you do log in, can you tell them not to kill me too?”

“The Geki?”

“Yeah… I sort of kind of killed one of them. The good news is I stole her fire implant. But there are more pressing issues. There's no question, the Wolf Gang is going to invade Valhalla. I'm sure we can repel them, but we need a backup plan in case he takes the ravine, assembles the Ares.”

“Actually I consider that second priority, after you know, making sure Valhalla doesn't kill us.”

Vadsø was just close enough to log into Alopex. Vibeke did so. Alf and Balder were above contact, but V team had a message: Come home immediately.

“They want us in person.”

“Then you'll have to go. Violet and I will find a safe house that Valhalla doesn't know about.”

“The Frasers,” said Violet. “They're against protocol, from my old life. They'd never expect us to go to them.”

“Excellent,” said Veikko. “Vibs, you take the Wolf pogo. We'll wait here. And can you do me another favor while you're there?”

“What do you need?”

“A little black book….”

 

 

M
ISHKA
WAS
very upset. She'd failed to kill Vibeke for what seemed like the hundredth time, and she'd nearly died herself. First the overloading microwave, the plasma burns, then the windshield stopping her ejection, then the impact with the water—that had to be her favorite part, barely turning on her inertia field before hitting the sea, getting the windshield blasted into her face again, almost drowning. The entire day was just a total write-off.

She had to swim for hours before she came to Hirado Island, and by the time she arrived, her body was so spent she collapsed on a small stretch of beach. She called her tank and went to sleep on the sand.

She woke hours later in the darkness with her tank gently prodding her with its hind foot, digging the other two into the sand to stay upright. She stood and stretched and looked at herself. She was a giant walking bruise, swollen all over and mostly black and blue. She didn't bother with an analgia field. She was too pissed off. The streak of near misses had to end.

She linked to the tank and told it to carry her to Valhalla at top speed. It would take only a day and a half. But she had to end it. To kill Vibeke or be killed herself. If she had to take on the whole ravine, so be it. She could visit her old stomping grounds, kill all her old friends. It would be a jolly good time.

The tank raced into the water and propelled itself toward the Korean Peninsula. Whatever happened when she arrived in the North, in one day Valhalla wouldn't be hunting her ever again.

An urgent message loaded in the back of her head. Red Boots wanted his money back.

 

 

V
IBEKE
STORMED
off the pogo pad. She found Balder and Alf in his library and headed straight there. She burst in and interrupted.

“Did you get my link? The Ares is intact and in possession of the Wolf Gang.”

Alf and Balder stared at her. Balder spoke as Alf walked out.

“Yep, that explains why Vladivostok just detected them incoming.”

Vibeke was dismayed by their seeming lack of concern. “Veikko has killed a Geki.”

“And he'll die for it,” claimed Balder.

Vibeke was disgusted. “Grow some damn balls! He killed one, why don't we kill the other?”

As he turned, Vibeke ejected her Tikari and sent it to the top of the library.

“I won't discuss this with you.”

“Then how about this, is it true you want to kill Violet too?” asked Vibs.

“Yes,” stated Balder, emotionlessly. The Tikari scanned volume after volume.

“Don't.”

“From the report it seemed you'd be the first to agree that Violet is dangerous.”

“We've reconciled.”

The Tikari found its target, a small black book. It pried it out from between the others and waited.

“She assaulted you. We do not allow such people here. We kill them.”