Cath

The Cradle

595 took advantage of the pinpoint covering fire from their Rothian attaché to rush forward. Osman, still holding the back of her armour, followed suit, firing on full-auto. They pushed comfortable, stylish chairs out of the way and made it to a low water feature before their portable cover collapsed like wet cardboard under the second soldier’s suppressing fire. They crashed into a prone position behind the fountain.

“We have got to move!” Osman shouted. “I have a plan! Just give me a few seconds!” 595 called back, accessing her deep-HUD. Osman fired over the top of the fountain, laying on her back. Returning plasma flicked chunks of super-heated masonry all over her.

The first soldier that Vreta fired at ducked down in a blur, with just one shot hitting the target. They turned and placed one hand on the Builder’s chest. Both shields glowed brightly, with extra capacity being lent to the leader instead of the footsoldier. The Builder stood up slowly, then quickly peered through the gap and punched the air.

A fist of the same grey alloy shot from the floor under Vreta’s feet, seeking to pound him into ceiling.

At the same time, two more ambushers approached the street-side of the truck. They were much more cautious now - well aware of what the Rothian’s weapon could do. The bodies of their comrades lay steaming on the road outside the sawed-off door.

The Cradle

More of the ambushers out in the street heard the buzz of overclocked Rothian weaponry, and turned to their fallen comrades. Most of the CraSec convoy was blocked in and being torn to pieces by rail guns from up high and energy weapons all around. One of the tanks was destroyed; the other span in circles and fired randomly into the buildings surrounding them.

The order came in to secure the target, so half a dozen of them peeled off and approached the tower. Some got shots on the armoured Rothian before they disappeared back inside the vehicle.

595 heard Vreta shout, just as the ambushers zeroed in on her with their heavy repeaters. Her shield in danger of failing, the Agent picked up the armoured car door which she’d cut through moments before and crouched behind it. There wasn’t much cover in this massive lobby, with just a dozen pillars around the edge, an assortment of sofas and tables, and a high desk on the other side to hide behind. The three assailants had stepped brazenly forward, occupying a commanding position on their side of the lobby.

595 felt Osman’s gloved hand on the top of her back, as the Major crouched behind her portable cover. “Get ready to move when we say, Dr Lang!” Osman called, before standing up to shoot over the top of the door. 595 shuffled forward a couple of steps and shot round the side with her pistol.

The spear-wielding person in the middle of the opposing trio held their haloed hand out in front. They quickly rotated their wrist back and forth, thumb and index pads touching. Sheets of slick grey material with a slot near the top burst from the floor in front of the two soldiers. They raised their guns again and shot through the slots.

The gilt-armoured leader then pointed at the pillar from behind which the Corporal was shooting. They clenched their fist, and the pillar burst into a thousand artifacting fragments, leaving the CraSec soldier exposed.

The Corporal made a run for the next pillar along, but never made it. The mysterious warrior threw their spear with such force that it flew almost too quick for the naked eye to process. It pierced the Corporal's chest, came out the other side and made a hole in the mesh-glass behind. He fell to his knees, then collapsed forward without a word. 595 watched with gritted teeth as the spear slowly digi-structed back in the person’s hand, growing from both ends. That’s not good.

"They're a Builder! Focus their gauntlet!" She called over comms, aiming carefully at the blue halo. The person walked calmly behind the nearest cover wall, while the soldiers carried on blanketing them with plasma.

The Cradle

595 nodded thanks to Vreta for his plasma sword. She turned towards the door, pointed it at one of the hinges and activated it. A rippling orange blade extended out, white-hot at the cutting edge. It comfortably sliced through the metal, so 595 pushed further, puncturing the glass mesh on the other side. The building was already trying to return to its original state, so 595 delivered a series of savage kicks to the door, sending it crashing through the window.

“Thanks.” Osman muttered as Vreta freed her foot. She gave it an experimental twirl. Satisfied, she looked at her subordinate. “Corporal, clear the hole. We’ll be right behind you. Agent, take them.” The Major hefted her gun, collapsing the stock so it was more manageable in tight spaces. The assailants who were now trying to saw through the back door started shooting at the other windows. The energy bolts beat the side of the car like a drum. “Go!”

“Tangier One, what is your status, over?” GCHQ crackled over comms. “We’re UNDER ATTACK!” Osman shouted. “Column is immobile - requesting IMMEDIATE support, OVER!”

595 let the Corporal squeeze past her, out of the vehicle and into the lobby. She crawled round so she could see the two scientists in the back. The Agent cleared her throat and assumed her soothing voice. “Hey guys. We’re gonna get you out of here, alright?”

Freyr, who was still upside down, nodded furiously. 595 came forward and helped her undo the seatbelt. She crashed to the ceiling of the vehicle, and untidily tried to barge past 595 into the middle. “No, we need Dr Girard too, remember?” The Agent pointed at the other scientist, who was staring groggily around, covered in blood while the saw cut a bright line around the door behind her. “Vreta wants to get in there, so let's get her down shall we?”

“Y-yeah, sorry.” Freyr stuttered, grabbing one of Girard’s shoulders. 595 put the researcher’s helmet up, then freed her. Together, they managed her safely down to the floor, then 595 dragged her out of the way so Vreta could get into position. “Dr Girard, are you with us? Do you have any dizziness? Can you follow my finger?” 595 looked at Freyr after a few seconds. “She might have a concussion - you’re going to need to hold onto her for a little while. Can you do that for me?”

“I..uh...suppose i could…”

“Good. Let's get her out of this vehicle to start with. One, two, aaand over.”

They dragged Dr Girard through the freed up middle hatch into the lobby of this building, just when a shower of glass exploded in from the side street entrance. “Hostiles!” The Corporal yelled, opening fire from behind a pillar.

Freyr screamed. 595 swore, and chucked Girard back on top of Freyr. Both of the scientists tumbled back into the car. The Agent turned, unholstered her pistol and fired on full auto at the trio of armoured figures pushing into the lobby. From what she could tell, two of them were in the same kind of armour as the ones outside. The other one though, was different. The armour was more ornate, ceremonial even. The main thing which concerned the Agent right now though, was the bright blue pointed spear in their left hand. A bright halo ringed their right.

On the street side, the ejected door sent the saw-wielder clattering to the floor. The gunslinger standing opposite the middle door unclipped a flashbang from their belt and chucked it into the backseat. The third dashed across to take up a position at the back of the car, giving them line of sight down the length of the vehicle. They fired aggressively into the car as they went, while the first soldier scrambled to their feet, shield lighting up.

The Cradle

“Mudda FOCKER.” Dr Girard gurgled, shaking hands moving to gently feel her face. Blood dripped out of her broken nose onto her forehead, and from there, the ceiling of the car. “My nozsch.” Girard slurred, poking herself. “Don’t touch it!” Freyr shouted. “We need ice, does anyone have ice?” She looked around the cabin frantically, searching for ice while still upside down.

595 unclipped her seatbelt and somehow managed to land the right way up in this cramped space. She wiped some of the debris off the window on her side and peered through. Heavy weapons-fire echoed through the street. A deafening explosion went off nearby, and for a brief moment the inside of their vehicle was brightly lit up. “I’m good. Osman, I need a proper weapon.”

“Shotgun in the box above your headrest. My leg is stuck…” The Major grunted, trying to free herself. “I’ll help you! Hold still.” The Corporal who had been driving offered, unclipping his seatbelt and crashing to the ceiling. Their car radio started up again, revealing a cacophony of shouts and battle instructions.

595 broke open a lockbox at her feet and pulled out a little cube that began unfolding into a weapon. The Agent grabbed a couple of spare energy cells too and attached them to her chest.

Freyr shrieked, pointing. “There are people out there! They’re coming this way! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Her breath came out fast and ragged, and Freyr found she was struggling to speak anymore. As she watched, three figures stepped through the smoke and haze of the battle. Energy rounds fizzed all around them, but they stayed focused on the vehicle. One had some kind of buzz saw.

The Cradle

Without hesitation, Osman authorised the Rothian integration request. Large red silhouettes appeared on the roads either side of their car, towards the convoy’s front and also behind them. Area markers above their heads painted three sections of the glassy tower blocks around them.

“Ambush! Weapons free!” The Major barked over comms, reaching for her combat rifle in the footwell. Energy weapons lit up along the full length of the convoy, sending great cascades of blue fire into the alleyways.

The bulbous visor crawled back over 595’s face and its red triangle blinked on. With gritted teeth, she forced a tethered iteration of the Scrivener-Fujikawa virus into one of the tower blocks off to their right.

All at once, anti-materiel rounds fizzed into the tanks from up high, leaving tracer vapor in their wake. Great curtains of sparks erupted into the air and the deafening screech of rending metal filled the air.

595 just had time to turn and shout “Get down!” To the two scientists in the back seats before a juggernaut exploded out of a side street towards them. The cloaking around it failed with a great *pop*, and a high explosive round from the rear tank filled the cabin with fire.

Freyr didn’t even have time to scream before the flaming truck slammed into the side of their car at top speed. The impact was devastating, with their car cartwheeling over and over. Debris flew around the interior, clattering against her helmet. Dr Girard’s nose smashed against the headrest in front of her, sending blood spraying everywhere. The car hit the ground upside down, then slid into the side of the building on the opposite side of the street. Freyr found her breath to scream, hanging upside down.

The Cradle

“GCHQ - say again regarding the Super. Urgently requesting a ping of our location, over!” Osman snapped.

“Get us the fuck out of here!” 595 urged, staring out a side window down one of the alleys. It looked empty, though the lighting wasn’t great.

The tank at the front of the column was half inside the Terra-glitch, and so needed to reverse a good thirty metres to turn onto the nearest side road. Their own car reversed slightly before crunching into the vehicle behind. Freyr watched out of the back window as the car and tank behind them started backing up properly. “Go go go!” She called.

“Ma’am, there’s something inside this glitch.” One of Major Osman’s subordinates reported from the front of the column. “Looks like a building.”

“What?” 595 scoffed.

“Acknowledged. Let's not stick around to find out who lives there.” Osman dismissed them. “One-Six, scan the area. I think Super is offline.”

“Copy.”

“I hear something. Listen!” 595 announced. “We weren’t humming that much before.”

The Cradle

“Don’t shoot them! They might be treatable.” Freyr pleaded, unsure if anyone could hear her over the guns. She looked out of the back window and saw some people following them round the corner. Some were trying to get into the underground garages beneath most of the buildings. Her team had seen afflictions like this before which faded after a time - but they had never been this endemic before.

“It’s good to hear someone is on course. We are off the approved route.” 595 snapped, checking the route she’d copied from the map table back at the checkpoint. “Terra-glitch on the main road ma’am. In a few turns we’ll be back on track.” The driver enlarged a copy of the HUD he was looking at and chucked it over his shoulder onto the Agent’s holo. “Hmmm.” She studied it closely. “Hey! Tuck your tail in!”

“Tangier One, this is GCHQ. Come in, over.” The car’s comm set squawked.

“GCHQ this is Tangier One, Go ahead!” Osman answered.

“Tangier One, we need you to...around and head back...Foundation Square, over.” Came the muffled response.

Osman responded immediately. “We can’t do that, HQ. We’re moving through a hot zone. Requesting immediate tactical oversight.”

“...Superintendent...down. KR-10 signal came from inside...Cradle. Lost in...your sector. Advise immediate...Over.”

“GCHQ, say again! GCHQ, come in.” Osman called through the static, glancing out of her window at the side roads branching off from their narrow channel.

“What is a KR-10?” Dr Girard asked, leaning forward.

“Skinners.” 595 answered gravely, unholstering her pistol.

Just then, a cacophony of curses and shouting blasted over comms, and the car in front braked suddenly.

Their driver slammed on the breaks, and managed to slow down enough that their car just lightly crunched into the vehicle ahead. The car behind did the same, then tried to reverse slowly. They were at a standstill. “Another Terra-glitch!” The column leader reported. “Get us out of here, now!” Osman commanded.

The Cradle

The convoy powered on without stopping, and the man running into the road bounced off the front of the armoured car behind them. Freyr wailed at the back window as she watched more people, civilian and military, spilling out of the building. The CraSec guards out front were shooting at...people. People with bloodshot eyes and black gums and gnashing teeth. They ran at the soldiers, jumping on them and trying to take their helmets off. Their armour sparked.

Energy bolts lanced into the crowd from guns along the convoy's length, including atop their own car. "There are people dying right there! We can stop quickly, we have room!" Freyr yelled over the noise. "Negative! It's not safe for you here!" 595 was already sideways in her seat, ready to address any threats at her door. She swivelled her head to glare at Freyr. "Stick to mission parameters!” She barked, for the benefit of everyone in the car. The Agent appeared to aggravated. Freyr gulped.

The car's comm network lit up with a constellation of comms. Not just the convoy, which had been heavily distorted, but from nearby buildings. Osman wrestled with the controls. "Tangier two, come in!" Their column veered into a narrower road. Freyr leapt back from the window when she saw a mass of people running towards the side of the car before they disappeared from view.

The Cradle

Dr Girard nodded in general agreement, leaning forward to poke her head through the gap in the seats. “We really are in uncharted territory now, so all possibilities must remain on the table. As for what they said, we all know the Cradle and the Rothian Object are prolific data managers. They could’ve ‘said’ everything that’s happened in all our lifetimes, including minute detail on the last six hours...Are you alright? You sound breathless.”

“Tangier Two, come in, over.” Osman said out loud from the front. No reply. “GCHQ, what’s your status, over?” A painful screech and warble blasted the inside of the car. “GCHQ, we’re getting a lot of interference this end, please repeat.” Osman said, before turning to face Vreta. “Try your friends.”

"We really need to figure out a better way to communicate. Both of these environments seem to block radio signals at will." Freyr mumbled to herself, nursing her head. Suddenly, the driver swore and swerved to avoid someone running out in front of them. Freyr and Dr Girard both shouted in fright. Gunfire erupted from the grand entranceway to one of the blocks on their left. “They’re here! Help us!” The runner screamed.

The Cradle

Since the Cradle had never permitted flight over a certain altitude, the area colonised by Humans had a road network more reminiscent of Earth than Outremer. The last six months had re-energised a military industrial complex previously engrossed by spaceships to deliver first-class land vehicles for CraSec. The convoys waiting to take the teams in different directions used state of the art hover-mobility. Instead of wheels, the vehicles had powerful magnetic emitters which kept them just a few feet off the road.

Freyr almost didn’t realise they were vehicles in her groggy state. Even the tanks at either end of the column were almost completely silent. She let Osman chuck her into the back of an armoured car, next to Dr Girard and behind Vreta and Agent 595. The Major then jogged around the back and got into the opposite passenger seat. “Ok, allons’y! Package secure. Callsign Tangier, you have a green light to proceed.” With just a gentle hum, the convoy began powering forwards out of the checkpoint.

Osman checked the clock on her HUD. They were running behind schedule already. She turned around in her seat to check out the passengers behind her. “Everybody alright? There is water in the door compartment.” 595 leaned forward and threw up again on her armoured feet. She followed up by spitting out a wad of phlegm, then wiping her mouth. “It’s kicking my butt, what was that?”

Dr Girard pulled the stopper out of one of the water bottles and placed it in Freyr’s shaking hands. “We talked about this as a possibility; that the Cradle and the Object could communicate through us in a more immediate way, like neurons moving through a synapse. You all went inside the Object on Rothia, correct?”

The convoy took a sharp right, heading off the square and onto one of New Antioch’s main artery roads. Freyr drank deeply from the bottle, then, feeling hot, she poured some on her upturned face. She wasn’t listening to anyone in the car; she was still trying to figure out the voice, or feeling, that’d washed over her in those few seconds back in the tent. Why did it feel so familiar?