Chapter 369: Call It Day One

This time, I hold back the snarl. Slosh zips up through the catwalk and into the flask, then uses my body for cover to fly the entire thing into my back pocket. My awareness screams as someone blinks into existence at the end of the fencing meant to keep people out, and with them comes a ton of caution tape and security guards. Taylor frowns and turns, but it doesn’t look like the psychic’s trying to make him think that stuff’s been there all along.

Two quick knocks draw what little attention wasn’t aimed at the door to it.

An armored speaker stands in the frame. It doesn’t look like there’s a human under it; bony limbs stretch a little too long, the torso cinches down to a few finger-widths at the waist, and the head is perfectly round atop a spindly neck. Yet, for some damn reason, the thing has massive endowments, if I can even call them that. Four perfect spheres the size of the thing’s head, a pair of each located on the thing’s chest and ass.

It’s an absolute mockery of… well… everything. Not even some sex-brained idiot would make a robot that looks like that. I frown and open my mouth to say something, but a flicker of magic along the speaker’s body gives me pause. It’s almost like there’s a malfunctioning projection all around the mannequin-like suit of armor.

“Can you see that, Pearl?” I ask in my own mind.

She nods slowly. “It looks like a wooden doll that someone strapped watermelons to.”

That’s about my approximation, too. I glance over at Taylor to see his reaction as Slosh slithers up my back and coils around the back of my ear.

“That’s a strange speaker. Very form-fitting,” Slosh notes. “In fact, it’s quite like those women on the beach back at the resort who wear nothing but string and cloth over very few parts of their body. Except metal.”

Pearl looks right at Slosh with disbelief, but I don’t have that luxury. The doll-mannequin-thing puts a hand on its hip and sashays towards us, trailing an empty face between Taylor and I with lazy confidence. I don’t see any woman there. Just a mess of limbs and spheres.

“Taylor, sweetie, what are you doing here? It’s not safe,” the doll says in a concerned, yet sultry voice that matches Slosh’s description way better than what I’m seeing. “You’re supposed to be up with the rest of the recruits waiting for the go-ahead. We’re short on hands, sweetie, so if you’d please–oh, wait a mo–what’s this you’ve got here?”

The doll leans down and trails spindly fingers over Taylor’s neck. Magic flickers around the frame, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what Slosh apparently sees; a suit of armor that looks like it’s out of a very adult-rated game. Metal bounces and squishes like skin around a very matronly figure, plush with the weight of years and a love of good food. Strands of silky golden material even fall down from the helmet, giving the illusion of hair.

With a tilt of its head the doll gently urges Taylor towards the door. “Go meet with Claim, sweetie. Don’t leave his side until he says, alright?”

“Claim? Why Claim? He’s not–”

“Now, please,” the doll half-urges, half-begs. “There are more people that need help than anyone realizes. It’s our job to make sure they’re properly helped.”

Taylor stiffens at the doll’s tone, but it’s more out of surprise than of fear. His eyes widen as his hand rises to his neck, magic wisping off his fingers in a spray of clashing colours. The doll stares directly at them as Taylor gulps around empty air, a small nod in his direction the only confirmation or negation that she gives.

“Okay,” Taylor mumbles. “Don’t get too mad at… um… sorry, what’s your name again?”

He leans around the doll to look me in the eyes. I smile as pleasantly as I can, not showing any teeth this time, and try to remember what I’d told him. If I’d even told him anything at all. Before I can contradict myself the doll gently pushes against Taylor’s shoulder and urges him out of the hangar.

“Please, sweetie, go now,” she insists. “I won’t hurt your new friend, I promise. There was nothing stopping her from walking right up here until now, and anyone would be scared of the place where that mech burst out of. Different people just have… different responses to things like this.”

Her tone turns acidic at that last part, but by that time, she successfully herds Taylor out of the hangar. I feel and hear her shut the door behind him, leaving only us in this damned place. The massive hole in the ceiling where the first mech burst out of yawns down at me like an inverse portal to hell. It might be my only escape, depending on what this doll thinks I did to Taylor.

Each of the doll’s footsteps is completely and utterly silent, filling the hangar with nothing but the creaks of slightly disturbed metal and the strange sounds of wind filtering through a jagged roof. She turns the bend and glances back at the door as if to make sure Taylor actually left, then snaps her fingers and continues to stand there. It was… probably supposed to do something.

Slosh makes a confused noise. “What happened to the strange woman? Why is there a strange doll in her place?”

Ah. That’s what happened. And I didn’t react to it at all, which is probably why the doll is walking towards me menacingly. Shit. Well, better late than never; I frown and lean my head to the side as I scramble to come up with a convincing reaction.

“...What happened to the strange woman?” I ask, which gets a wince from both Pearl and Slosh. Not my best work yet.

The doll chuckles and shakes its head. “It’s too late for that now, stranger. The only people who don’t react in the same way you did are people who can see through my projection. So, what is it for you? Magical item? Blessing of protection from a friend?”

She walks up to me, confirming that she is, indeed, seven and some damn feet tall. A good chunk of it is legs, too. Whoever’s controlling the doll has a very obvious type.

“Which lie do you want?” I ask as innocently as I can. “I can make up pretty much anything as long as it’ll get me out of this.”

“Get you out of this. Ha-ha-hmm,” the doll laughs throatily. “You think you’re in trouble. Unfortunately for me, I’m far more observant than I should be. That bottle. The plastic against your ear. All the magic deterrents around this place that you casually waltzed right through as if they weren’t even there.”

Magic deterrents? I don’t remember anything like that. Must’ve been so weak that I didn’t even register them, and they didn’t disturb a hair on my head.

The doll crosses its arms and leans forward, nearly putting her empty face against mine. She studies me for a few seconds, then gently sighs in thought. I grip the anonymity pebble in my hand tighter than I should be; if I hadn’t showed Taylor who I was, this wouldn’t be a damn problem. But the poor goddamn kid…

“Did you slit his throat?” the doll bluntly asks.

I snort dismissively. “Would’ve done a hell of a lot better job if I did.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” the doll sighs and shakes her head. “I have a very good feeling of who you are, stranger. Unfortunately for me once more, it looks like I have a much bigger problem on my hands–one that you will be blamed for if I bring you in. The higher-ups are looking for a scapegoat. I am looking for a terrorist.”

She stands up straight and stares at the empty space where the mech whose reactor I took was. I can almost hear the gears connecting in her mind to solidify exactly who it was inside of Call’s armor earlier today… but she doesn’t move to attack me. It’s almost more terrifying than if she did. Now it’s like she’s trying to make a decision.

“Taylor and three other trainees went missing just a few hours ago,” she finally says. “Their friends all say the same thing; they were getting ready to go help, and then all four of them independently said they were so tired that they had to go lie down. The surveillance shows them going into their rooms. When I finally got a moment to check on them… all I found…”

She nearly chokes on her words, but whether it's in anger, worry, or grief, I can’t say. I can assume, though, because I saw exactly what Taylor would’ve left behind.

“Blood,” I say with grim certainty. “And lots of it.”

The doll nods. “At first I hoped that it wasn’t theirs, but one message to a specialist confirmed my fears. Then Taylor’s signal reappeared, and I rushed over here–only to find that he doesn’t have his armor and that there’s a fading scar on his neck with stains on his skin and clothes. Before I even saw you I saw the bottle. The potion inside is too powerful for just anyone.”

Her faceplate turns back to me. “But not for one of the resort’s Worths. Not for the Gambler.”

Slosh vibrates coldly on my ear. “Do I kill it, savior?”

“To protect us?” Pearl laughs just as coldly. “The doll’s controller isn’t anywhere near here. Heck, she’s probably still looking around that floating island up there for her missing kids. I… we…”

Pearl pauses, and when she speaks next, all the chill leaves her voice. “She cares about those kids more than she cares about the Preservation.”

“Or maybe that’s what she wants us to think,” I reply in my mind. “Don’t underestimate these people, Pearl. Imagine the worst that any one person could do, then remind yourself that this place is run by a council of those people inflicting the worst without ever getting their hands dirty. We can’t trust this woman… even if I can understand her.”

I lock ‘eyes’ with the doll and shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, doll. I’m just a random woman Call found out in the wreckage of a city your organization was supposed to protect. Whether I saved your recruit or not is something you’ll have to wonder about for the rest of your life.”

The doll lowers her arms to her sides. “Oh. Is that how it’s going to be?”

I can almost feel the disappointment radiating from her voice. My gut says to ignore it; there’s a damn good chance she’s the psychic controlling everything since Taylor’s reindoctrination started when she got close. Yet the leader in me–the one who wants the Preservation’s leaders to die horrible fiery deaths so something better can grow from the ashes–can’t help but see an opportunity.

Because if she isn’t the psychic, then someone else is. Someone else who is going to stop the doll from finding out who murdered her trainees. Her… kids.

My hardened expression falls. I’d love to say it’s calculated to manipulate the doll into working for me without her knowledge, but it’s just a truth. Three other kids are potentially dead somewhere in the Preservation. Countless others are dead because of the mech. There’s no way the two events aren’t connected, and it all boils down to something I still haven’t figured out; who the fuck brought in the apocalypse-touched mech?

If I can figure that out, everything else gets so much easier. I re-harden my expression and stare holes through the doll’s face, pretending to war with myself over what I already know I’m going to say.

“Do you even know who brought in the apocalypse-touched mech?”

The doll laughs. “Of course I do, stranger. We all do, since we… we…”

“We what?” I prod as the doll plants its hands on its hips. “I’m dying of anticipation here.”

Her head snaps around so quickly that I hear something crack. A message pings onto my Class Card as the doll breaks into a sprint across the hangar, throws the door open, and disappears out of my awareness range. I blink a few times to make sure I didn’t just imagine that blatant exit, then shake my head and look down at my Class Card. It’s a message from Call.

‘New orders just went out; If you’re still in the hangar right now, get out of there before it’s swarming with speakers.’

I grimace and run to the doors, cut a turn, and come face-to-empty-space with where my bottle should be. The doll must’ve taken it. Golden wisps are gone, too, somehow, which is not a good sign. Hopefully Slosh got all the info we need from the ones down in the hangar floor, because we are not getting access to this place again for a long time. I take one last look at the locker Taylor had been hidden in, then snatch the pieces that were locking him inside and stuff them into my pocket before I lock onto the coin I left in the… the…

…Shit. I don’t have any more coins left in the Preservation; just the one Call still has. Looks like I’ll be going back to the resort for a little while. Probably better to rest and regroup with the others while the Preservation deals with all their own problems. 

Because they’re going to have one more soon enough.