12 Miles Below-Chapter 55Book 7. : Loose ends

Pipe weasels, despite their tiny little bodies, were apex predators up in the clans. They’d travel down unused pipes, make burrows and dens in the most unexpected locations, and hunt down rats anywhere the pests could hide. Agrifarmers both hated and loved them.

Hated because chickens were on their menu. And loved because rats ate and messed with everything. Algae farms, vertical farms, insect farms, chicken farms, even the hydroponics systems had a chance of rat. To which weasels were the cure.

So there was a bit of a truce between the clan and the weasels.

The weasels were pretty fierce too. They’d stalk behind their prey, pounce straight for the neck and snap it in one bite. I’ve seen them hunt when I was a kid, mostly because I was crawling around in places humans really shouldn’t fit. They never did attack me, I was far too big. Or so I thought when I was a kid.

Turns out, weasels don’t have any problem picking fights with things vastly bigger than they are. So maybe the weasels and I had some kind of unworded respect for one another. Hence why being named the hyper-weasel by Feathers felt more like a compliment.

I say all this because To’Naviris died like a rat caught by a pipeweasel.

No chance to fight back, neck snapped and paralyzed. Spazzing out on the ground, eyes seeing something far off, twitching in the dirt.

It didn’t all happen in one moment. First he’d been up in the air, at the center of an occult blob of power with way too many hands to be natural, and a good variety of practical and impractical occult weapons to swing with. Then the spazzing started, occult attacking things around him that weren’t there, his eyes jumping at shadows.

Wrath landed next to me and held a hand out. “I am getting instructions from To’Orda that his viral attack is still in progress. Once he no longer sees any danger within his delusions, he will no longer use any occult attacks. Those are the only parts of his being that cannot be tampered down.”

“So… Drakonis got through to him?”

“Perhaps.” Wrath said. “I received a trade offer and accepted it. He will assist us in defeating To’Naviris, and in exchange we will accept his dominion over this biome and all of To’Naviris’s prior land along with a general non-hostility pact. He has taken command of the Odin and their… home. And has grown fond of them. To’Naviris succeeding here would be a direct threat to his new interests.”

“You sure Relinquished would allow this?” I asked, “We are sworn enemies after all.”

She waved a hand. “Mother’s explained to me she tends to avoid meddling in disputes between Feathers. It is on ourselves to sort things out. Her exact wording when I spoke with her was, ‘Convince whoever you need to convince, make your bargains as you wish, show me some of your prized resourceful initiative.’ It was sent as a test to my abilities in working around obstacles in order to obtain what I want.”

“And what do you actually want? Oh great warlord To’Wrathh.”

“I want a clean and fair battle between us.” She said, standing up prim and proper like. “One that is not tainted by other interlopers. I would prefer we agree on a… temporary alliance, and handle the threat they represent. Once they are handled, we can resume our battles in peace.”

“A temporary alliance? Is that like a friendship bracelet situation, or more of a pinky swear deal?” I asked, which got me a slightly shocked look, followed by a sigh and eye roll. Hah. Still had it. “You did stab me. Most humans are a little prickly about that kind of thing.”

“Human, the forces after you are highly dangerous and not to be underestimated.” Wrath said, folding her arms together and giving me a cross look. “There are two of them, and only one of me. And they are working together. We are not. This is a nuanced problem that requires adaptability.”

“Ohhh, I see... you're asking me for help? Could you repeat that part? I just like hearing the sound of your voice."

The eye twitch came up, but so did the flickering smile she was trying hard to hold down. “You are insufferable. I should have stabbed you a third time.”

“I’m not hearing a no. It’s either that or I ask for matching shirts that say best friends forever. I know you can make those with your nanoswarms.”

She ground her teeth slightly, closed her eyes, and finally turned her violet glowing eyes my way. But before she was forced to say anything, To’Naviris had finally crossed some threshold that no longer required him to be fighting anything inside whatever delusion he’d been under.

Occult vanished around him, and he fell straight out of the air, landing on the scorched earth below, weapons clattering down after him. Occult pulsed out occasionally, a hand attacking something that wasn’t there, or flickering in and out of reality. But then it all settled down.

To’Orda grunted. Which was all the signal we needed to start our approach. Wrath flared her wings out and made one single arcing leap, digging her heel down into To'Naviris's half-working hand to pin it in place.

He was muttering under his breath when I reached him. Occasionally mouthing a word or two. Twitching. Really did feel like a rat with its spine severed.

From behind me, I drew out the white blade To’Aacar had crafted specifically to murder things for good. The fractal of true division flared within it, bright and clear. Even Wrath flinched away from it for a moment, and she was further away from me. I had the godsdamned thing in my hand.

One relic armored foot pushed into To’Naviris’s chest, exposing his throat. No resistance still. Eyes looking out far past me. He was smiling, a kind of unhinged happy smile. In the soul sight I saw exactly where I needed to stab. And the soul remained there, unworried.

The actual end of his life was anticlimactic. I dove the blade down into his soul fractal in one strike. It didn’t miss. Nothing dramatic happened either. No last second saves, or contingency plans being set off. Whatever To’Orda had used on this Feather, it was powerful and utterly unyielding.

The soul floated away into the air like burning paper in my vision. In moments, reality had eaten away at it until nothing remained. The shell under me stayed completely still, the last orders it had weren’t anything offense related like To’Aacar’s had been.

And even if the shell tried to get up and fight, there were two other Feathers here with me. Kidra had been more than enough by herself in killing To’Aacar’s zombie corpse, and today I was several miles stronger than I was back then.

“We will need to dispose of the shell.” Wrath said. “Regardless of my elder brother’s inability to negotiate anything, and his clearly unraveling mind, he was a Feather and I am obligated to show the proper respect.”

Which meant Relinquished was still watching and expected to see To’Naviris’s shell removed from any shenanigans or falling into human hands. A pity that. Plenty of great uses for a Feather’s shell these days, the market for that had a bright future.

To’Orda walked forward, then put down his golden shield. With a careful hand, he grabbed and brought To’Naviris’s up and equally laid him down, the shield used like a pillow.

I could recognize an execution when I saw it.

And a moment later, the hammer swung for the Feather’s head, crushing it between an unstoppable force, and whatever that golden shield was made of.

Clearly far stronger than a Feather’s head.

There was silence in the clearing for a moment longer. Then Wrath’s shoulders slumped, and she took an exhausted breath. “Relinquished is satisfied, and has withdrawn. It’s over. I can generate audio footage to replace what is being said right now in case she returns and wishes to rewatch what is happening at this moment.”

“How’d I do?”

“... Acceptable.” Wrath said, which was her way of saying I was the greatest actor in the world, and deserved high praise. “If she returns to view things from a live perspective again, I will snap my fingers as a signal and you will need to resume your acting.”

“Fine with me… how are the rest of them taking it? I mean the other two.” I said, helmet turning to give To’Orda a look over.

“To’Sefit seems more amused, I believe she doesn’t take this development seriously, or her ultimate goals have shifted. She expects To’Orda to return to the fold once you have been killed and I have been captured.”

Honestly, I’m glad. I have a score to settle with her.

“To’Avalis has already deployed several attempts to attack To'Orda indirectly, however it's clear his plans weren't premeditated, he must have been truly caught by suprise.” She paused. “He also wishes to pass along a message that he is still amenable to negotiations if you wish to switch sides.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I admit that got a laugh out of me, and Wrath too given her slow head shake. “He will likely kill you the moment he can for the events that happened around his shell. Without hesitation.”

“Can you tell him it’s a lovely shell, and he’d be real impressed with the work Father’s done on it?”

“Done.” She smiled. “He was not amused.”

“What? Really? Well, I’m very amused. Too bad for him.”

Maybe bullying his past friends was one ration bar too much for To’Orda, because the giant straightened up with a message. “Mother has sent forces to recover this broken shell.” His hammer unceremoniously shoved the body out of the way to recover his golden shield. I swear I could hear his spine pop each time he stood to his full height.

“Think we could leave her a decoy Feather shell for her forces to pick up?” I asked, looking at the headless body. It might look like an unusable mess, but it was actually the head that was unneeded. The body was where the real power came from.

Father had learned how to manually control these shells without any assistance from anything in the head. He’d been absolutely paranoid about leaving a scrap of software running in there unsupervised, leaving no single point of weakness. So it could be piloted by a clan knight with enough practice.

What’s better than one unstoppable and unkillable Tenisent Winterscar? Two of them running around.

Could also be a good plan B for Keith Superior once his mitespeaker duties were complete. Neither of us knew if he could return to mite space after leaving it, but we were sure he could leave. Far as mitespeakers were concerned, there was always someone forced into the blood fractal on the other end, and it hadn’t sounded like an optional thing.

I’d be fine with it, but put me out of my misery if I develop a fascination for pipe organs please.

He was mildly joking, we both knew there were options to get him out of there. Likely he was going to outlive me since I’m running around with a meatsuit.

“Nnn… No.” To’Orda said to my plan, which ruined all my schemes and dreams in one word. After that answer he cracked his shoulders again and stood tall. “We do not have control over the lessers she is sending. They will make a personal investigation, and they report directly to her. Recreating a fake Feather’s shell is possible, however key components cannot be crafted without a mite forge. Those will be noticed as missing.” freewёbnoνel.com

“Is that why To’Avalis is still not completely fixed? He’s had months with To’Aacar’s old shell.”

To’Orda nodded, shoulders hunched again, slowly rising back up. “Nnn… still finding mite forge that offers an acceptable price. Repairs are doable. But the mites charge more for discretion and intrackability. There was also an earlier setback with a human we hunted down. It took time to repair that damage. Now that he is fully masquerading as To’Aacar, he will pay the standard open price to repair his shell, instead of attempting to fund it in secret.”

“Great, tell him I look forward to seeing him soon.” I gave two thumbs up. “Let’s invite him for dinner sometime.”

“He does not appreciate food.” To’Orda said. “There was no strategic benefit to him.”

Of course not. “His loss.”

“It is." To'Orda turned to Wrath. "Our negotiations are complete, little sister. This biome, and all within it, are mine. I am taking command of the lessers here and disbanding their activities.”

I could hear that happen in real time too, all sounds of combat dramatically lowering before ending entirely. Couldn’t see what was going on beyond the walls of this outpost, but I could take a guess the machines had turned tail and run back into Bob’s domain.

“I will follow through on my trade terms earlier.” Wrath answered, nodding as she confirmed the enemy army was on the retreat. “Perhaps our people might connect a trade route for the future? My Chosen are a newly forged city, and there are mite portals here we could work with.”

“Trade accelerates business prospects.” To’Orda said. “That is likely acceptable. I will speak with my advisors.”

“Talking about dinner with polite guests, what actually happened to Drakonis?” I asked, hearing the noise. “I know he’s probably kicking grass somewhere near a pillar heart, wherever they are down here, but what did he do to get you to swap sides like this?”

The spine shrunk again, and the Feather folded back onto himself like a hunchback but this time it didn’t unfold. “Nnnn… I couldn’t understand. He made me understand. I will go search for him.”

I… had no idea what that meant, but it sure sounded like something had happened.

I gave a look at Wrath, asking for a translation. She obliged me. “I feel it is almost our fate as Feathers. Only strong emotions seem to shake how we think. My moment hadn't been as brutal. I wasn't forced to kill Tamery, however I witnessed her murdered by To’Aacar.” She shook her head, “I believe that is the exact moment I changed. I am only lucky I had the means to reverse her death before it became permanent. To’Orda would not have had that luxury if anyone other than Drakonis died to show him.”

He gave the traditional mix of a growl and grumble, that probably meant yes. “I would have stood still and allowed either the Icon or my employees to be butchered before I could learn. He knew that. He came here knowing that.”

But besides his grunt, there was one thing that was constantly bugging me and now I really needed to know. “Why is it that he sounds so eloquent and well spoken right now, and the next second he’s talking like every word has a bill statement attached to it by an over caffeinated Logi? Is he trying to mess with my head or something?”

“He reverts when you ask him a question. There is a compulsion placed by Relinquished to answer any to the best of his ability. Before she ripped his mind apart and left him mentally crippled.” Wrath said. “I’ve seen his history. His prior self was a warlord named To’Ori who discovered Mother’s geas and made plans to handle it. That and to eradicate humanity from the surface downwards. Relinquished caught him mid-scheme before he’d completed his preparations and brought him into an interrogation, paranoid he was attempting a rebellion given his research on her.”

I looked him over. An interrogation with Relinquished. And he’d come out of it compelled to answer anything truthfully, and mentally destroyed.

“I see what went wrong. He was forced to mention the surface. And after that, nothing he answered her mattered because she freaked out and went on a loop until she was compelled to squash him.” I looked over to the giant, connecting the pieces. “You’re the product of Tsuya’s defense plan on the surface, aren't you? Her final defense of humanity in action.” Every Feather I’ve met and heard about didn’t care to deal with the surface. “Because the rest end up like you and are never heard of again, right?”

He nodded. “Burned to ashes in her rage. Disposed of after.”

“How did you escape that? I mean, you must have done something different otherwise we’d be running into more mentally smashed Feathers out there.”

He shrugged. “Nnnn… Luck.”

Wrath shook her head. “No such thing. To’Ori made backup contingencies that remained active. I have requested to investigate, however To’Orda does not trust me rooting around that deep within his systems.”

“Can’t really blame him, we’ve been admittedly a tiny bit underhanded when it comes to viral warfare.” As in we were terrifying the Feathers. "But you sound pretty convinced of this theory?"

“It would make sense for him to have uncovered the fate of other Feathers if he’d uncovered the geas Mother is under.” Wrath said, to which To’Orda shrugged.

“Ahhh, and if he knows that’s a possible fate, he’d be a dumbass not to come up with some countermeasures.” I added. To’Orda shrugged again.

“His contingency plan likely partially succeeded. Just enough to restart the self-actualization process. And the rest must have been burned down with him, leaving only the most isolated systems running, the ones divorced from his personality.”

“So… are you To’Ori, To’Orda or Boss?” I asked him, more to get a clear answer to all this.

The spine hunched. Really did do that to all questions now that I knew about it. “Nnnn… There is no To’Ori. I inhabit the corpse of a dead tree, a sapling growing out of the cut trunk, fed only by the water pooling where the roots had once been.”

“Okay, no To’Ori. Then, are you Boss or To’Orda?”

“Nnnn.. are you Keith, or Winterscar?”

“Ah.” Actually that made a lot of sense to me. I really would answer differently if someone called me Winterscar as a name. That meant they took my rank and name seriously, which meant I’d need to be equally formal back. “So, if I call you Boss To’Orda, you don’t have problems speaking?”

“Expending effort on speech is annoying and always will be.” Boss said. “Effort is the enemy. The greatest goal one can strive for is to have everything else done for you.”

I stared at him. He stared back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever respected a Feather more than I do now.” I said with all my sincerity.

Wrath stepped right between me and the wise hermit, hands on her hips, eyes giving me a death glare. “Repeat that.”

Every cell in my body knew it was a threat, and I knew exactly how to answer to get out of this situation: “Don't worry, you're still my favorite Feather to annoy.”

I could see Wrath was undergoing a mix of emotions, between smug, happy, and annoyed.

“His life advice is something I think I could learn from.” I continued, trying to escape, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who elevates laziness to a spiritual practice.”

She gave me a searching look, then a slow nod. Hah, another successful escape.

“I am rather proud of my brother’s accomplishments.” Wrath said, lifting up on her toes to give his back a pat. I think that’s as close as Feathers could come to hugging one another. The giant looked incredibly uncomfortable with that. “He had less advantages and far less time than I did to change, and still came to the same destination I have. It feels good to know I am not alone.”

“I am only aligned with you in matters of food.” Boss said, taking two steps to the right like a crab, just to get out of patting range. “I am not on your side, or anyone’s side. I am here to protect my employees so that they may continue doing work for me, and nothing more. Although I do appreciate your motion of support.”

“So long as that hammer’s not swinging in my direction, works for me. That said, I might need to recover Drakonis too. So, maybe we could extend the alliance out a bit longer?”

A tinny voice came from within To’Orda’s shawl. “And why the fuck would you wanna do that? You won already, buzz off back to where you came from. You’re a jinx and you’ll only draw the other two bozo’s back down here.”

I think the question was plain on my helmet, just by how I stared at him. “I'm guessing you have a different name for this voice too?”

“Nnn… no.” To’Orda said, and that was a complete sentence.

“That was a prior attempt at problem solving, a solution that he could use within the limitations he was under at the time.” Wrath said. “He made an engram using some of my freeware, and placed it into a pet rock of his. It has evolved from an image generator to what it currently is.”

The Feather had a pet rock. I’d like to say I’ve seen everything, but To’Naviris had a pipe organ, Wrath had her wings, To’Sefit had her hat and staff, and To’Aacar seemed extremely attached to having his hand.

I’m starting to think Feathers had another blind spot when it came to hoarding some kind of object. To'Avalis seemed like the most sane one of the bunch.

“So what exactly is his pet rock then? It’s own thing, or an alternate version of himself?”

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest.” Wrath said. “It is functioning within his hardwar--”

“I’m his fucking voice of reason is what I am, you crazy nutjob. The common sense.” The rock said, slowly removed from the shawl by one large hand. It looked like a rock with a speaker inside it. And then it projected some kind of image upwards.

That image was also a rock, but with doodled eyes and stick figure legs and hands.

“You know when you humans stare in the mirror and start talking and pointing to yourself, saying lies like ‘You’re a winner!’ and ‘Everyone loves you!’ - Yeah that’s me.” The rock said, doodled arms pointing back at itself. “I’m the mirror. I’m also very good at my job, thanks.”

Cathida crackled over my helmet. “He’s basically me, just on the machine side of the wall. And the dumb giant would be Journey in that analogy.”

“And the Odin along with their Icon?” Because Kres and the others had helped me out. Septimus had put his trust that I wasn’t going to burn things down, and while the outpost here was on flames again… it wasn’t my fault and I firmly reject any responsibility for it. “What’s your plan for them?”

He shrugged as if it was obvious. “Nnnn… Food tastes best when others cook it for you.”