Godclads

Chapter 20-2 In Unofficial Capacity

When you patrol the Warrens, it's important to know the prey you face. Every step you take, every alley you peek into, every Syndicate you encounter, and every transgressor you break matters. But blind destruction and rampant misuse of power lead nowhere. You must learn the nuances of your foe. Understand what drives, motivates, and commands them.

It is only by breaking the baser habits indulged by the denizens of this city that crime and destitution can be overcome. We are more than Jaus’ fist. We are his open hand. Recall that before committing to action. Recall that, and prevent yourself from shaming his memory.

It is with this in mind that we must lace our wrath with wisdom. To be as rational as we are powerful. It is important that you observe the patterns, the behaviors, the structures of society, and the nature of human duplicity.

Having a heaven is not enough. Being able to twist reality is nothing if you do not understand the rules on the ground itself.

And you will not make up for your lack of tact with brutality and cruelty. Do not think your savagery beyond my notice. I have seen what you do. As have the Syndicates. As have the people.

Burning barrows and butchering millions to serve as a warning are acts befitting butchers of a bygone age.

We will not be our ancestors.

We will not become the faithers.

We will not fall to the level of the gods.

What we bear are more than expectations, but embodiments. Avatars that must rise to the ideal lest the city fall to its vices. Glorious purpose beyond the shadows of the past.

I expect each and every Paladin to live up to these ideals. But especially you, Naeko. I know you. I know how you are. But now, I’m asking you to be more. To be better. To be greater. You command the respect of the youngest and fear of the oldest, and when judged by martial materiality, you are without peer among us.

But your rage must find its end. Your wrath must be tempered. Your hand must be softened.

So. Here is my statement in its simplicity: be light, be gone.

-Chief Paladin Osjane Thousand (Circa Second Guild War)

20-2

In Unofficial Capacity

Naeko focused, turning the fullness against Green River. He waited to feel if the blood inside her would quicken, if the pulse of her heart would speed, if her posture would break, or if the muscles in her face would tighten. The only response she gave was an imperceptible tilt of her head–her true head.

The fox draped around the person tilted its head and fixed him with an unreadable look. Eyes of brilliant amber glowed beneath the shifting shadows cast by the neon overlay spinning above the area, and in the brightness, the battle between bioforms was portrayed by phantoms stretched wide over the centermost arena.

Contrarily, her human body remained impossibly still.

Distant cheers, slurs, and jeers formed the surrounding ambiance as the fight continued. The modified simian’s augmented fists slammed down. Enhanced tendons lengthened. Titanium boxing gloves made from modified aerovec engines fired, boosting impact velocity. The blow fell, and the air thundered as two pillar-sized arms greeted the ground.

But the centipede merely broke and scattered. Each segment of its body shot through the air, wings bursting free from their carapace as the insectoid bioform turned from a connected chain into a scatter of giant black-shelled wasps.

The violence continued, and each collision between the two fed Naeko’s Heaven with greater and greater power. As did every act of violence across the entire Sovereignty. Naeko could have expanded his will further.

But breadth taxed focus.

Instead, he narrowed his influence as much as he could, made it as confined as its presence would allow, but even still, metaphysically, he was a pillar, about to pierce into the crown of existence itself. Every move he made, every act he committed cast waves through the patterns forming reality’s tapestry.

Billions of hostile actions entered and nourished his Heaven’s ontology. Parents striking children. Missiles striking buildings. Flechettes striking flesh. Light striking matter.

All was true.

All was present.

All was transgression, waiting in the judgment of a greater hand to bring retribution to sin and enforce the tyranny that was peace on all who were.

Naeko refrained.

He spat clumps of dried blood crusting along his throat and used his utility fog to swab himself clean. No sense in choking because he healed faster than he bled.

“That’s a nice bioform,” Naeko said, clearing his throat a few times while gesturing at the swarm that used to be a centipede. “Did your in-house grafter build that one too? Or is that a vendor project on display for publicity?” He speared another porkball and stuck it in his mouth. “Hope these questions aren’t that dangerous. Or I’ll actually start to worry. The day honest businessfolk like you start getting threatened for the services you provide is the day this city really starts heading for the Big Nothing.”

He struck the water again, seeing if she would react to the ripples. Handing out both his suspicion that she was the one that provided the sheath and also his knowledge regarding her grafter was probably a bit too impatient on his part, but Naeko was never much of a schemer.

A pang of sympathy sang out inside him every time he looked at the gorriloid. This fight wasn’t its to win. Its death was preordained–its power a deception to siphon wealth from half-strands that mistook strength for capability. Poor thing was to farm imps from fools. All that power, all the brutality. Useless. Nothing to hit. Nothing to break.

There was nothing the world loved mocking more than power rendered impotent.

If it could only see itself from where Naeko sat. If it could only understand the purpose of its life. If it could have known what he known and seen what he seen.

Maybe then it would make the only sensible choice it could then, and turn those fists on itself.

Green River settled into the seat next to him then, turning her human face to the fight as well. The fox, however, remained locked on him, its posture tense, ready to pounce.

Yeah. He was pressing against something she didn’t want revealed. The question was if it was pertinent to his investigation. There were still over five million different establishments capable of grafting such a sheath across New Vultun. The Second Fortune was simply the most reliable, known for offering other clandestine services and near Tier-level surgeries.

“It gladdens me to hear that the reputation of my establishment has spread so far and wide,” Green River said, acknowledging, not but answering his question directly. She was judging him, trying to see what angle he had or how much he knew before she revealed her own secrets.

It was a game Guilders commonly played, both sides striking the water, moving in the dark, seeing who would reveal more first. And even if she was banished by her elder sisters for losing such a game in times past, the habit was bone deep in Green River now, and she would not change.

Unfortunately for her, the only game Naeko liked playing was Stormjumpers.

Naeko finished the last of his food so he could start blasting all the blood clogging his nose into the bag. Not using a neuter mask was an intimidation tactic, but he had to admit the constant hemorrhaging was getting pretty annoying. The curse kept lashing him, not knowing that its struggles against his nanosurgeons were fueling his Heaven as well.

“All I need you to know is this: I got a pretty good guess that sheath came from the Second Fortune and that Ruveca Drachneight is the grafter. What I’m not sure about is if you’re just a seller, or if you’re implicated in whatever’s happening in the background as well, but honestly, I don’t really care. I’m just here in unofficial capacity.”

“‘Unofficial capacity,’” Green River repeated, as the fox glared at him with open annoyance. “Is there truly such a thing in this city?”

Naeko shrugged. “Well, I’m supposed to be at work right now, so, yeah. Either that, or I’m just being a lazy bum. Pick whichever you like.”

Green River closed her eyes and bit back a soft laugh. “You are a remarkably incorrigible man. Do you know this, Chief Paladin?”

The Sang had no idea how deep her words struck. Echoes from his past repeated by people he used to know–people who no longer were themselves–ached like scar tissue probed with a knife.

In the shadows of his memories, he remembered Veylis beside him on that hill, how she sat next to him as the farms burned in the valleys beyond, shaking her head, repeating the very same line.

Naeko shook himself free from the stupor. He was different now. He was better. He had control. He was better. “Yeah. Hear that once or twice,” he finally replied. “Listen. You’re probably safe from me. I can’t prove any of this and I really want to press. And even if you’re technically banished, I know who your elder sisters are, and I really don’t feel like going ten-for-ten against Stormsparrow again because the No-Dragons had some imps to burn.”

“Why, I cannot imagine my life would ever be worth such an esteemed favor,” Green River replied, lacing sweetness into false modesty.

“No. But the disrespect of me harming you and pushing my power against your business should be enough to amount to some reprisal. I’m not that rth–rusty. But also, you gotta ask yourself something: if that idiot Naeko’s curious about this, who else might have noticed?”

A heavier silence slid into place again. The wrinkles faded from Green River’s smiling face as she pressed her lips together and the fox coiled tighter around the woman.

“And that’s not a threat,” Naeko continued, pointing a finger at her. “That’s a warning. I don’t think you know what most of your guests are up to. Hells, if I’m going to penalize your conducting business, I think that means most the Warrens gotta follow you into the Unwhere. But I’m just saying, this is a case with a lot of eyes on it, and attention could be drifting over really fast. Like, Highflame and Stormtree for instance. You know how the Guilds get in these high-tension scenarios. Both are looking for fingers to point and your potential client seems like an obvious target. I just don’t want you fingered along with them. If they are your client, anyway.”

“How very thoughtful of you, Chief Naeko,” Green River said. She didn’t sound so honored though.

“Of course,” Naeko laughed. “I’m here to protect and serve the people. But I have to know what from, and why. The key thing here is that–potentially–if you want to get something off your chest, and you’re afraid for your safety, you can come to me. Unofficially as well. I’ll be sure to keep your name away from the Proparazzi.”

One of the centipede’s wasp-like segments plunged into the gorrilloid’s left knee. The beast roared a deafening cry of pain. Its arms lashed out, blurs of pendulous mass, lashing and whipping, trying to swat the modular creature that was slowly wearing it down.

“I cannot help but feel unjustly pressured, Chief Naeko.” Green River sighed. “All these words directed personally at me and my business. It feels so much like a threat. So much like an accusation. It is as you said: I do not know the business of my clients, for I am a host who provides their needs to the letter and oversteps no boundaries. I learned that one must… respect the limitations of tradition, station, and duty, lest they be unmade by another’s folly.”

And she was being somewhat honest here. Naeko could feel it. Knew her history, how her ambitions during the Fourth Guild War nearly sparked a diplomatic incident between Highflame and the No-Dragons, and how she was banished as something between an apology and a face-saving measure.

“Exactly,” Naeko said. He held up a hand as if to pet her shoulder, but halted as the approach struck him as more threatening than comforting. He settled for scratching his own head instead. “This shouldn’t be on you at all.”

Another two pieces of the centipede sank through the simian’s flesh. Blood sprayed from the thrashing bioform’s armpit and groin. Its right arm tore open something, sawed up along the inside of the arm. The phantoms focused in on the flopping flesh and exposed bone, the live replay slowed down to show a bladed carapace gliding through layers of enhanced tissue, wings hot and aglow from how fast they were beating.

“I’m sorry, Chief Naeko,” Green River frowned. “I simply cannot recall anything about this off the top of my head. Perhaps I might be able to offer you something at a later date after spending some time in review?”

“Yeah,” Naeko nodded. “How tomorrow evening? I’ll go upstairs to the Golden Bull for dinner. Heard the dumplings are to kill for!”

The gorilloid stumbled backward with a groan, but the remaining parts of the centipede pierced its eyes and shot into its open mouth. The burly beast and Naeko were two of nature now, both bleeding from their faces. But as the monsters thrashed and wailed in rage and disbelief at the fate it could not overcome, the Paladin just hemorrhaged politely, his suffering a sidenote to a pleasant conversation.

Some of the crowd were hurling insults and shouting in dismay. Losers many, and fools all.

But Green River wasn’t among them. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Chief Naeko.” Then, her Metamind pulsed, and a phantasmal thread slithered out from her mind to his.

INCOMING SYNC REQUEST FROM GREEN RIVERACCEPTED

[MEM-DATA PACKAGE INCOMING]

+Are you able to access the Deep Bazaar, Chief Naeko,+ Green River asked mentally. “If there are any other services I can grant you, please, just speak the words, and efforts will be made.”

Rivers of gore poured from the inside of the gorilloid. The centipede was gone from sight and nested within the corpse. Crimson seeped into silvery fur as parts of the body bulged and broke. Something was curling along the dead simian’s spine, reassembling itself beyond natural perception.

But Naeko could feel new architecture taking shape, the centipede wrapping itself in arteries, nerves, bones, and sinews. Finally, as the head of the insectoid reattached itself, the bioform injected itself into its dead foe’s brainstem as the body kicked and spasmed.

Naeko sighed dramatically, playing along. “You know, after watching my chosen bioform lose, the gambling spirit just left me. I think I’m going back to work. Sometimes, you just have to take a hint from life that the hand you have isn’t it.” He shook his head sadly and stood. +Yeah. I can get on.+

+Good,+ Green River said. +Within the package I just sent you are instructions that will lead you to a private mindscape in the Bazaar. I will be waiting there at midnight. We can have a more… open discussion at that time. Away from prying eyes.+

In the real, she bowed slightly, never taking her eyes off him. “It saddens me we weren’t able to give you the experience you desired. Perhaps another try? Maybe your second fortune will prove better than your first.”

“Ah!” Naeko laughed, grinning boyishly at her. “And the No-Dragons kicked you out? They must hate good conversation.” The conversation returned to the mental. +River. I better not be faced with a Necro null cell when I get in there. Because if I am, they might just find you smeared along your bedroom’s walls. And when I say you, I mean the nu-dog.+

The fox’s eye twitched. +Fox.+

+I don’t care what made-up nickname you give your nu-dog–don’t grief me. I’m doing actual legwork right now and I’ve forgotten how pissed off it makes me. That, and the fact that I can feel every little degenerate thing that’s happening around the Sovereignty.+

To accentuate his point, Naeko clenched a fist. Twenty kilometers away, a dozen Hundred-Eighters were trying to force the refugees they trafficked out from their containers. As the next threat was snarled, however, they all suddenly came apart in weltering sprays of gore, the harm inflicted on the gorilloid was copied unto them as well.

Naeko shared this memory with Green River and smiled genially. +I look forward to talking with you honestly and thoroughly. And just that. I don’t have the taste for violence anymore. Not when it’s done by me. Not when it’s done by anyone else.+

+I understand,+ Green River said.

+No,+ Naeko replied. +And hopefully, you never will.+

Wiping the blood from his face again, he took a step past her and made for the walkway, preparing to leave the establishment. He could feel her looking at him every step of the way, feel all the other eyes on him in the stands. No doubt some among the crowd are already publishing memories in the Nether.

As he dodged a drunken woman fighting to align ass to seat, Naeko reached out using his Heaven again and focused in on Green River. If anything were to happen to her–if anyone tried to harm her–he would know, and he would pull himself across existence where violence was performed.

After that, he expanded his awareness again and reached beyond the Yuulden-Yang Sovereignty. One hundred and twenty-four potential suspects spooked. Three offering something close to promise. He’d do a few more on the top of his list and wait. See who gets snuffed or starts moving erratically. Feel the reaction to his probing.

After that… well, he’d figure that out when he got there.

Right now, all he wanted to do was narrow some leads and breathe down some necks. Knock the rust off. Get back into the swing of things and get a clearer picture. He had feeling Denton was tied up in this. That was part of why he didn’t want Maru and the others involved. But even still, he wanted a better grasp of what was going on.

Just to make sure the trial would stay a mess and develop into a clusterfuck instead.

Over a thousand kilometers away, Naeko found his next place of interest: The Skin Garden. Also a Sang-owned establishment. Fewer direct ties to the No-Dragons though. Expanding his awareness and pulling himself over to every act of violence being committed, he injected himself into a falling arm and materialized as a mother slapped her daughter across the face, exploding across existence with the crack of a slap.

Blinking, he found himself in a quaint family home, the ground beneath him little with broken shards of glass and spilled alcohol. Against the wall, a girl barely more than ten held her face as she looked at him with wide eyes. Her mother, still holding her arm in a death grip, looked upon Naeko the same way.

He sighed. “Okay. First.” He pointed at the broken beers. “This is sad. Don’t abuse over spilled beers.”

The mother blinked, her disbelief causing her thoughtstuff to stutter in place. “I… you…”

“Second,” Naeko said, holding up an open hand. “That’s not how you slap someone. Feel this closely now. I’m about to teach you the first thing my father taught me before I could walk.”

Naeko had forgotten how miserable it was to walk the Warrens. But then again, he had also forgotten that there were simpler pleasures amidst the misery.

***

“So,” Bright-Wealth said, eyes practically fused to the place Naeko sat. “What the fuck did he want? Are we going to die? Is it time for all of us to start selling each other out for pleas and reduced sentences?”

Green River’s human vessel continued to frown down at the area while the fox turned and snarled at her sister. “Do not worry. You will be safe. I, on the other hand, have a few calls to make.”

Bright-Wealth whistled. “That bad, huh? So. If you get brutally killed, the split for the Second Fortune is still in effect, yeah? I get one full percent.”

Green River rolled her eyes. “You can have two for all I care. You’ll just gamble it away.”

“Ow. You hurt me. But also true.”

“Wealth,” Green River said, before pausing a beat. “Will the Second Fortune still be standing if I leave you in charge for a day?”

The younger Sang slid back, her snake-like bio-rig allowing her to shift smoothly across the ground. “No. It’ll collapse in half that time. I don’t want all the responsibility.”

“Good. You will be first sister while I’m occupied. I must handle some matters. Contact a few people.”

“Fuck. Wait, do I get your penthouse.”

“Of course not.”

“Fuck. A bonus?”

“That’s performance-related.”

“Fuck.”