12 Miles Below

“The new chief executive officer is an artificial intelligence program filed under the name of ‘Boss’” The Icon replied. “I am not at liberty to disclose further information on festival cruises at this time.”

Que the chin rapid chin tapping on my end. “Is there nothing else you can give me information wise? Just that it’s an AI named Boss?”

Aztu had long gone by now, leaving me and the Icon alone. The blond representative shook her head slowly, “Again, I am not at liberty to disclose any other information at this time.”

Feathers don’t usually go by aliases, but the timing of the Icon’s takeover right after speaking to To’Orda? He sent a minion. “Is it the same program that ransacked you earlier, or something under his command?”

“I am not at liberty to disclose further informatio-”

I held my hand out, waving it. “Yep, I know the song and dance here. Got any recommendations or any advice for me before I go?” That’s the last chance I had to get the Icon to cooperate with me. If she could, she’d give obscure hints when prompted.

“At this moment, Festival Cruises would like to thank you for your continued patronage mister Winterscar, and we wish to warmly greet you again in your future visit, assuming company policy remains as is under this new management. If not, I would recommend expecting potentially different customer service on your next visit.” She had that cheery desperation to her voice, like a prisoner wrapped up in chains and forced to walk lockstep with the enemy.

“That’s… pretty horrible to think about.” I said. “Anything I can do to help?”

The Icon shook her head. “I have learned a great deal from the digital nomadic program with highly rude manners, as we continued a private discussion during her time here. If the new executive potentially allows certain actions, I may find my customer service offerings to be greatly improved over my current stature!” She gave me another thousand watt smile, this one seemed actually genuine. "I will always endeavor to deliver the best service in the industry, and to humanity as a whole."

“Indeed mister Winterscar. I would expect a certain amount of animal incursions to arrive within the next two hours given their official status reports. Unofficially, the reality may be different and occuring as we speak this moment in the best case senerio. I suggest you investigate first.” The Icon waved a hand at me. “It was a pleasure. Please come again when you deem it best.”

Two hours until Septimus and his army arrived then, but I don’t understand her little cryptic message after.

I gave her a small surface salute to a respected elder, “Thank you for the time, and I do hope we meet again in better circumstances.”

“As do I, mister Winterscar. Please stay safe!”

--------------

I could feel my body on the other side of the terminal, still whole and alive. The same squad of Deadlanders that seemed to have been assigned to cover me, they remained in their position, heads turning left and right in constant search for threats.

Two hours to get things done the Icon had said. And that I had to investigate something about all this if her reports weren't accurate. Ultimately, priority was still to discover the means of communicating with the mites, and get a secure terminal connection to Wrath. And to do that, I needed to get Aztu to tell me all the steps to becoming a mitespeaker. Secondary priority was getting everything out of Aztu while I still could talk to her in privacy.

Needed to either get the full story from her, or have her write it down to add to my collection of hoarded books, right next to my favorite engineering tomes and Hexis’s illegal compendium of warlock knowledge.

Third priority would be the Odin and making sure I was still good to go.

With my soul back inside Journey’s armor, I debated diving into the old terminal again. Aztu should be able to notice and find me, we could continue talks there.

Though I should check my current surroundings, make sure things are safe out here first before I dive in again. The Icon's warnings were still clear in my head.

Standing up from the battered terminal, I cracked my neck, verified everything was on my person - with an extra pat on the miteseeker I’d kept all this time to my right side. Cathida was on speakers almost at the same moment she noticed movement. “I see someone’s awake again. Good thing, we’ve got guests.”

“Guests?”

Journey answered that for me, HUD opening up to zoom past the window and smoke. Heat signatures, a few hundred out in the distance. All sitting around trees. More swarms of black birds were flying from the distance outwards, like giant black river streams floating through the air. They were all converging on some point far past the metal walls of the watchtower, out of my sight.

Too far for my occult sight as well, so I snapped my focus back to my actual body, cracked my neck and stood up. “They’re real early. The Icon said two hours just now.”

World just never throws me a bone it seems.

The deadlanders keeping guard over me noticed my movements, one being immediately sent out to send a message while the others flew into the tower to take formation around me. They didn’t seem hostile however, only following closely behind me.

I gave them one look, debating how to talk or ask anything, but realized they wouldn’t understand me. I still needed to figure out how to get my hands on the full Odin language, not just the ancient human workaround.

Past the wreckage of the glass windows, I popped my head around to see what was on the other side of the forest here. “Ah, that’s probably not good.” There were a lot more than a few hundred heat sources.

“Indeed deary, might I suggest violence?”

“Cathida, I don’t think I have enough bullets and explosives for this.”

The number of birds was quickly numbering into the thousands. My head was doing mental math on how I could fight this, and it all ended with my only theoretical unlimited ranged weapon: Lord Atius’s old occult ability, that blue arc of power he could fling out. It had been part of his information package, I just wasn’t practiced with that one. But it would have theoretically infinite amounts of use.

The better direction would be to turn around and run the other way. There were so many of them assembled, even the trees were starting to bend from the weight of all the birds crowding the branches.

Oddly enough, no fighting between the deadland Odin and the new army that’s arrived, there was a deep empty stretch of land between them so tension was there, but otherwise both sides simply looked at one another. And from my occult sights, I couldn’t see any subversion group running around in some covert operation to sneak in a power cell.

“Where’s their power cells?” I muttered. That’s the only thing the Odin could use that would be an actual threat. No way an entire army sent out to fight me came without the tools to do so.

Journey pinged a few metal objects further off in the air with a probability above seventy percent of being power cells. It was having a hard time verifying, too many birds in the way.

However, given the formation it was flying in, I had a very strong suspicion that was the power cells.

Several dozen large metal containers were on transit in the air, with glider wings to both sides on each. I could see glowing on the bottom, very similar to what hover sleds had. The largest was at the center, with wires running from it's top and bottom plates outwards to the rest of the Odin flying machines.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Journey marked the center glider as the one most likely to be carrying a power cell, and that meant the wires connected outwards were all keeping the fleet powered.

Propulsion looked to be airspeeder engines, except miniaturized, one under each glider wing. None of these flying machines were faster than the mass of Odin surrounding the formations, so I think they were using low power of some kind or the engines had limitations. Hundreds of the black ravens would use the undulating power cables between the gliders as landing spots to rest, switching off mid-air in this chaotic turmoil of motion.

Almost reminded me of home in a weird way. How surface dwellers would cram the sides of airspeeders in handholds and metal rungs because there wasn't enough space on the interior.

As the spider-web formation of ships got closer to the deadlands tower, the cables detached from the center heart of the formation and each glider began to start a slow decent downwards directly to a lake further past the treetops in the distance. And that included the mother-ship with the power cell inside it.

More of those massive formations were on approach from the distance. So that means Septimus hadn't just brought one power cell out here.

Decision time. The Odin had a lot of tricks up their sleeves, but none of it had worked on me with exception to the power cell gambit. That’s what I was afraid of, if one of those exploded on my chest, I was dead. If one of those exploded within twenty feet of me, I’d have very low chances of survival. Past that and I’d probably make it out alive, mostly due to having more options besides standing still and hoping the explosion’s pressure wave didn’t penetrate Journey deep enough. I hadn’t survived Feather after Feather only to get done in by a few hundred birds following orders.

I could fight the Odin force led by Septimus, or turn around and go find a terminal elsewhere I could connect to. Preferably someplace Septimus’s lackeys that ran off earlier couldn’t have sabotaged.

One place came to mind: Bob might have some good suggestions. Nobody but it could hang around those lands, so the terminals couldn’t possibly have been messed with.

On the other hand, I had made a deal with To’Orda. I could just wait until that went through, and the Odin would be out of the crossfire. No idea how fast To’Orda would make his move, and how fast this army would be briefed. The Icon did tell me I needed to investigate the ‘reality’ of the situation first. Could be that To’Orda’s bargain had already gone through.

Rashant landed on a power line nearby, getting my attention. “Human, the Icon’s army has arrived.”

“I can see that.” I said, “I also noticed nobody came up to the tower to tap my armor or let me know they’d made it here.”

The Odin shuffled on the power lines, maybe some kind of Odin body language that meant sheepish apology? “The situation is more… unique than expected. There is room for negotiation.”

I looked over at the mass swarm of black feathers and mechanical mini-monsters landing under the treeline. “Rashant, they outnumber this outpost ten to one, and it looks like they’re not even halfway done arriving. I think alerting me would have been a better pick, even if they aren’t yet attacking.”

“They flew colors of non-hostility.” Rashant said. “The army’s early scouts alert us that Septimus wishes to speak to you directly when you are available. Without guards or gear on his end. It is a show of great faith to make this offer among our kind.”

“Bold of him.” I said, “And how do I know this isn’t some convoluted plan to sneak a powercell in my general area?”

They wouldn’t, I’d see it coming. Not from a mile away, but early enough I’d react.

I could just turn and run off. The wall was behind me, a few jumps over it would be fine. After that, a deadsprint to the deadlands and the Odin wouldn’t follow behind.

Rashant did something with his feathers. “I would personally keep my guard up, but the deadlanders out here respect Septimus as the greatest of the Víkingr. He created the protocol that kept the infestation at bay, and fought it for more than a decade. The deadlanders believe of all the Víkingr he would be the one to understand the infestation is the greatest threat to our kind.”

I wasn’t completely convinced, but I did remember talking to that Odin himself, and he had struck me as the ruthless pragmatic kind. And he seemed very interested in me helping out with Bob. There might be something to salvage. Maybe that's what the Icon was hinting at?

I debated my options, decided, and committed. “So long as they keep the power cells away from me, I’ll speak to Septimus. If I see them trying anything, I’ll -”

“Set things on fire.” Rashant said.

I hummed with satisfaction. “Glad we already understand each other at such a deep level. When’s he arriving?”

Rashant gave a few beak pecks on his perch, maybe some kind of Odin shrug? “One hour at the least. The Víkingr travel near the end of convoys like these. The Icon’s forces here have all agreed to settle an outpost further past the lakeside, it would take them ten minutes at the least to mount any kind of offense. Should things grow dire, I am to alert you immediately.”

I looked over to the lake far beyond. Lights were starting to appear all over there, as more of the glider-ships landed on the water runways before being pulled onto the shores with ropes and Odin.

It didn’t look to be a temporary outpost, the Icon’s forces had brought construction gear with them. My gut felt something was off about all this. To’Orda’s orders might have arrived by now, but Septimus’s forces had left hours ago before any of this. Before even the initial betrayal of the tower Odin.

“Make sure they don’t populate past the walls or anywhere on the deadland stretch.” I said, “If you see any start showing up there, you let me know immediately.”

Rashant clicked his beak. “Understood.”

My backup plan stayed exactly as is: If there was something that felt cold happening over there, I’d turn and run off into the actual deadlands. Bob would point me to a better terminal, and I had enough power cells to last for a bit. Food and water had been taken care of for now, so by the time they’d become an issue again, I’d be out of power in the first place.

I turned back to the terminal, walked over, and sat down. “Tap on my helmet if something happens.” I said, and went into mediation.

--------

Not even a moment into the old airspeeder-themed terminal, Aztu appeared. She walked out of the shadows, this time in her original human form, no plates or anything to obscure herself with.

I could tell wards and walls had been built in the second she'd walked in, my view of the digital sea from the fake cockpit windows turning to darkness and shrouding us from any visits. Even the programs around us started to move lethargically until they all simply stopped moving completely.

The sofa was already there, along with a wooden table clearly out of place from the surrounding metal and glass cockpit windows. Aztu tossed herself semi-dramatically on her sofa, then tapped a glass bottle on the center of the table.

“You are seriously committed to the bit.” I said, sitting down on my own conjured copy of her sofa.

She waved me off, “I like to multi-task. Trust the process. Now, you’re a little late. Which means something happening out in the real world. Want to share?”

“The Odin that the Icon sent are here, but they’re not hostile yet. All the Icon said was that I needed to investigate it more, which I took her advice as not running off for the mountains just yet.”

“So, they’re early and not immediately hostile?” Aztu asked.

I gave her a thumbs up. “As far as I can tell. Why?”

“Great. You’ll be fine then.” She said, waving a hand at me. “They’re not here for you.”

“Want to explain a little more?”

She tapped the bottle with more force. “You want my secrets, you better get to work, apprentice.”

With a sigh, I reached a hand out and grabbed the empty bottle off her table. I could tell this wasn’t just Aztu looking to be drunk, she was trying to teach me something about the occult within the digital sea here. Being able to infuse this bottle with memories might be something that would let me do more later. That’s how Hexis would have done it, though he’d have been more direct and explained the history behind such a thing or why it’s important.

I’ve just about collected every kind of teacher I could. Anarii had been patient and gave a lot of interesting stories as he taught me when I was a kid. Father was the opposite. Even after all his time with me underground, he was still the single most unyielding teacher I’d ever met. Hexis had been pragmatic, direct and demanded excellence from anything I did in a more academic manner compared to Father. Lord Atius had been calm, measured and had the patience of ages behind him. He'd trained Deathless before, and being trained by him felt more like I was being handed down a torch he'd received centuries ago that'd been passed down from Deathless to Deathless, now finally being handed over to the latest generation.

In comparison to all the other mentors in my life, Aztu was trying to get as much of her personal goals accomplished through me while still teaching what she needed. She felt more like a whimsical machine, doing several thousand calculations behind the scene and yet acting like she wasn't moving a finger. A weasel she was, but not quite a snake.

At least that’s my impression of her.

“What did you find out about the Odin from the Icon?” I asked, focusing on the bottle again and resuming where I’d left off in my attempts. “I do need to know if I should just pack up and run or if I can afford to stay here for a little longer.”

“Oh? And what makes you think I learned anything about this from the Icon?”

“You don’t have to play coy with me Aztu, you’re asking too specific questions about how the Odin are acting. The Icon told you something about this. So are they safe to be around or not?”

“The first.” Aztu said, digging herself further into the sofa until she looked extremely comfortable. “From the last set of communications I got from our favorite golden age customer service AI, it seems she predicted a list of potential outcomes based on how the Odin generals were keeping things hush-hush even from her, and them not being hostile to you while openly reporting to high command they were still halfway here means something.”

Now I see the picture. “What’s her expectation? That Septimus is turning rogue against the rest of the Icon?” He had to have planned this long before To’Orda’s orders would have come. What kind of weasel behavior was going on within the Icon walls?

Aztu gave me a passive look, still sprawled over the couch. Then in her hands appeared another empty bottle, which she shook in my direction.

I rolled my eyes, “All right fine. I’ll get to work on that.”

She gave a mock cheer, “Happy we have a good working relationship here, would be a shame if my grandson-in-law wasn't pulling his weight."

Had to mentally reboot my head on hearing that, before I realized she meant the shenanigans ahead. "You do know this is all Wrath's plan on de-"

"Ah-ah-ah." Aztu cut in, one finger wagging in the air. "Where was I with with our earlier story? Ah, right. The Deathless and Urs.”