Mistrunner 3 - Chapter 26 - Stalker (Patreon)

Pressure is a funny thing. For some people, it’s a prerequisite for greatness. They can’t thrive unless something is pushing them. But for others? That constant pressure is a detriment, preventing them from ever reaching their potential. And then there are people like Mira, for whom pressure is just a way of life. She barely acknowledges it, and it’s gotten to the point where I’m not even sure she feels the weight on her shoulders.

Patrick Ward

It took three more days of surveillance before the appropriate situation presented itself. In that time, I continued to work on the Ghost formerly known as Robot Disposal. With what I had planned, the name just felt a bit too silly, even if I was the only one who’d ever see it. As far as I knew – which increasingly didn’t seem like all that much – no one else could see the names of my Ghosts, but on the off chance that I was wrong, I wanted to assign a more dignified name to my robot-murdering Ghost. Or failing that, at least something that sounded a bit more technical.

But that was a worry for another time, because, at that moment, I had other things on my mind. First, I’d finally gotten what I’d been waiting for in that the Pillar of Heaven was on the move. At present, I was lagging about a half-mile behind a caravan that had exited the city earlier that morning. In most ways, the convoy looked much like a hundred others I’d seen. Comprised of twenty vehicles which carried three-dozen blue-robed guards as well as ten times as many refugees and addicts, it was an imposing force made even more dangerous by the fact that two of those vehicles were military-grade, featuring powerful cannons that would probably be enough to down even the Leviathan.

The guards themselves were almost identical to the ones I’d seen back in Fortune. They were blue-robed, armed with rifles, and, even when they possessed plainly different characteristics, they struck me as identical. Like robots with different cosmetic features. It was as if some had chosen the “female blonde’ model while others had picked the “brunette male” version. Underneath, they were probably all the same.

Which was terrifying, considering that if it had taken me so long to recognize it, would normal people without my advantages ever see them for what they were? I guessed not, as evidenced by the fact that, according to Cyrilla and Tate, they’d had a presence within the city for more than a year without much incident.

The convoy had stopped in the late afternoon and circled the proverbial wagons. Literally speaking, they arranged the various vehicles in a large circle, then enabled a portable Mist shield that I knew would do little to deter a determined predator. However, it was better than nothing and spoke highly of their competence. After all, potent Mist shields were both expensive to run and costly to obtain. It was unlikely they had access to anything better than the one they’d deployed.

Either way, the goings-on in the camp was only my first concern. The second was decidedly different, but no less troubling.

Because someone was stalking me.

Poorly, too. I’d known they were there since the very beginning. They were using some sort of skill to mask their presence, but they’d forgotten to account for all the little things. Like the way the mundane wildlife reacted to their presence. Or the distinct lack of a smell where there should have been myriad aromas. They had even ignored the broken branches and disturbed rocks they left behind in their wake.

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should be insulted or appreciative. It didn’t take me long to decide it wasn’t a gnome following me. They had been entirely undetectable. So, at some point in Fortune, I’d clearly picked up a tail. They’d been following me ever since I’d left the city, and it seemed that they weren’t going to give up the low-speed chase anytime soon.

And that meant that I needed to do something about whoever was brave enough to follow me around. So, as I lay there watching the Pillar of Heaven camp, I kept Observation running at full tilt so I could keep an eye on my unwanted stalker.

As the night wore on, they crept progressively closer – emboldened by my lack of reaction, no doubt – and it wasn’t long before I caught wind of their scent. As befitted someone who’d been outdoors for the entire day, it was not a pleasant odor. More, there was a hint of aromatic oils, hinting that my stalker had a bit of a vain streak. Still, it wasn’t overpowering, and without Observation, I never would have even noticed the smell.

Finally, once they’d gotten within ten feet, I decided to make my move.

Wheeling around, I summoned my oft-unused scattergun and trained it on my stalker’s unseen form. Then, before they could react, I said, “You should really work on your stealth skills. Don’t move, or I’ll put you down, tie you up, and torture you until you answer my questions.”

“Whoa! Hold up! I didn’t –”

“And keep your voice down,” I spat, recognizing that my stalker was male – at least judging by his relatively deep voice, which was usually a good indicator. “Those robots down there probably have pretty good hearing. Or whatever passes for hearing for, you know, robots. Either way, use your inside voice.”

“I don’t –”

“Also, drop that skill. I don’t like talking to a disembodied voice.”

“Wait, you can’t see me?”

At that moment, he tried to move away. To his credit, he was pretty good. He didn’t make a sound. Nor could I see even a ripple to indicate his presence. But with Observation going, tracking him, especially when he was so close, was child’s play. So, as he shuffled to the side, clearly intending to bolt, I followed him with the stubby barrel of the scattergun.

“I can smell you,” I said.  “So, let’s not try to run, huh? I don’t want to chase you through the forest at night. There are predators out there, you know.”

“Huh? Of course…”

I used [Teleport], draining my Mist in the process, but I didn’t need skills or abilities to clamp the Hand of God around his neck. I squeezed. “I said to drop the skill,” I growled in my best no-nonsense villain voice. It probably came out more as an annoyed squeak, but I hoped it would get the point across anyway. “I don’t usually like to repeat myself. If I have to do it again, I’m going to get angry.”

“Ack,” he choked, obviously trying to respond. Beneath my cybernetic fingers, I could feel his strength. His Constitution wasn’t nearly as well-developed as mine, but he was no slouch, either. Perhaps I shouldn’t have used the entirety of my Mist reserves to Teleport.

Finally, he let his skill drop. I noticed that the Mist swirled strangely when he did, but I was more concerned with the fact that, judging by his white robes, I’d captured myself a Templar. I released him the moment I saw his attire. He fell to one knee, massaging his throat. Maybe I’d gripped it harder than I intended.

“Why the hell is a Templar following me?” I demanded. “I’ve never done anything to you guys.”

He held up one finger, then coughed a couple of times before rasping, “You really need to work on your people skills.”

“You were stalking me. My ‘people skills’ never came into it,” I countered. “Now, tell me what’s going on, or so help me, I’m going to start shooting, and I’m not going to stop until everything is dead.”

He tilted his head up, and as he did so, I got my first good look at him. And I was struck by two things. First, he was young. Maybe sixteen, and that might’ve been a stretch. He had the gangly body of a youth who hadn’t quite caught up with a growth spurt, and the soft fuzz on his cheeks seemed to support the notion that he was extremely young. Second, he would one day be quite a handsome man. For now, though, the combination of youth and his features gave his face a borderline feminine cast that was only accentuated by his long curly hair, which he wore in a messy bun.

“You’re staring,” he said. “I know I’m a beautiful specimen, but I have to tell you up front – it’s not happening.”

“What?”

“You and me. I know it makes all the sense in the world after our little meet-cute here, but-”

“Shut up, or I’m going to shoot you.”

He grinned, making him look even prettier. And he was pretty. Not handsome. I’d decided that the moment I’d gotten a good look. “See? This is what I’m talking about. We already have the banter thing down. Before long, you’re going to end up chasing me through the airport so you can profess your love. But like I said, I’m cutting that off right now. I’m already spoken for.”

I was about to respond to his inane blather – what the hell was an airport, anyway? – but I stopped myself before falling into the trap. He was just trying to distract me and keep me off-guard, and I wasn’t going to let myself play into that ruse. Instead, I said, “So. Templars are following me. Why?”

“And if I don’t answer?”

“That’s when I shoot you and the torture starts,” I stated. Realistically, I had no intention of following through with the promise – torture was a terrible way to get information – but he didn’t need to know that. The threat of pain was usually just as effective as the real thing.

“You’re really aggressive. You know that, don’t you? And while I could see some men being attracted to that kind of thing, I’m just not –”

I pointedly raised my weapon and said, “Three.”

“What are you –”

“Two.”

“Wait!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t…I wasn’t…I mean, I’m not even a Templar. Not yet. The only reason I was following you is because my master told me to!”

“And your master is?”

“Uh…he’s friendly. He said he met you one time. Frederick Eagin. He’s a master of the Templar Council, so you’d better –”

“Freddy’s here?”

I’d only had a brief meeting with the man in question, but it had been a memorable one. Part of that was due to the nature of the meeting itself; he’d been in mourning over the transformation of his apprentice into a wildling, and I had just finished my first Rift. That was before the fall of Mobile, and back then, I’d actually believed the world was a fair place full of good people.

I had been wrong.

Of course, the opposite wasn’t completely true, either, but that assertion might’ve had more to do with my resolution to look at things differently than it did with the reality of the world.

“Oh, I bet he hates that you call him that.”

“I’ve only met him once, and I don’t think either of us were in any state to judge the other,” I said. “So, I’m wondering why he had me followed by a little kid.”

“Little kid? I’m bigger than –”

“Shut up. Just tell me what’s going on here, and I’ll decide whether or not to kill you.”

Swallowing hard, he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation when he breathed, “But…I didn’t…you would kill me?” Then, he remembered to bring his feigned bravado along as he squared his shoulders and asked, “And who says you could? Maybe I’ll be the one who…uh…takes you down.”

He almost said it without letting his voice waver, which was more than I would’ve expected had I given it much thought. I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m game to figure the answer to that question out if you are. But I’ll remind you that I’m the one with a gun pointed at you. It was built to be non-lethal, but aliens’ perception of what constitutions lethality is kind of skewed. I’ve found that it rarely lives up to its intended purpose. Maybe you’ll be one of the few who can take it. I don’t know. But this conversation is beginning to annoy me, so if you want to figure things out, let’s do it now.”

For a moment, as his expression went from fear to annoyance and then to anger, I thought he might take me up on the offer. But then, he surprised me when he once again held his hands up in surrender before saying, “I’m here in peace. Master just wanted me to watch you and let him know if you get in trouble with the Pacificians.”

“The who now?”

“Pacificians. You know, the aliens you’ve been following?”

“Wait, they’re not robots?” I asked. Shaking my head, I said, “No. They definitely are. I saw the wires.”

That’s when he started laughing, stretching my patience to its limit. I didn’t care that there was a lot more nervous giggle to it than outright mirth; I was getting extremely annoyed, and I wanted some answers. So, I shoved the gun in his face and said, “Explain. Now.”

That certainly brought his laughter up short, and he tried to back away. I stepped forward, maintaining the barrel’s close proximity to his dainty nose. Predictably, as he took another step back, he tripped over a rock and fell on his backside.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” he said. “I just…I don’t know…the way he described you…well, I just thought you’d know who you were following is all.”

“And who is that? Pacificians. Aliens, not robots, right? What else?” I asked.

“Well, the line’s kind of blurred, right? These guys are bad news. Everyone knows to steer clear of them.”

I let it go that “everyone” didn’t include anyone I knew, instead focusing on the relevant facts. “Why? They were actually doing some good back in Fortune,” I said. “Helping addicts and feeding the poor doesn’t really seem all that evil to me.”

“Good and evil are manufactured concepts. There is only weak and strong. Everything else is just an illusion people cling to so they can feel better about themselves,” he said, sounding like he was reciting something he’d memorized. Perhaps that was one of the Templars’ tenets.

“I don’t care. What makes people steer clear of the Pacificians?”

“Uh…well, they kind of are evil,” he said. “But don’t tell Master I said that. We’re not supposed to look at the world like that. Anyway, these guys are bad news. Like, they’re kind of known for colonizing entire planets.”

“So are most aliens,” I pointed out.

“Not really. Some prey on newly Initialized planets, but most aliens are actually fine.”

“And you’ve met a lot of aliens?”

“Well, no. Just one, and that wasn’t in person. But that’s what we’ve been taught,” he admitted.

I glanced back at the circled vehicles in the distance. It was still quiet, so I focused on the conversation with my stalker. “Again,” I said, my annoyance mounting. “What’s so bad about the Pacificians?”

“They’re kind of like an invasive species. Or at least that’s how the rest of the universe sees them,” he answered. “Like, they come in, and within a few decades, they’ve converted the entire population.”

“How?”

“Social engineering, brainswashing, propaganda – that sort of thing. Oh, and they promise eternal life,” he said. “And undiluted freedom from choice.”

I gestured for him to go on.

“So, the social stuff comes first, right? They make promises, and they keep them. They feed people. They help them with their problems. And all the while, they make sure everyone knows just what they have to offer. The general pitch is eternal life, but there’s also freedom from addiction. If you join the collective, you don’t have to worry about food or shelter or anything else. You’ll be just one piece of the whole, with a job to do and –”

“The collective. What is that?”

“Well, the Pacificians are a hive mind. Sort of. That’s how they started, at least. In their native forms, they’re, like, fish people or something. I don’t know exactly because they left all that behind a long time ago. Now, they ride along in robotic bodies. And that’s what they promise everyone who joins. State-of-the-art bodies. According to my teachers, the brains aren’t even biological anymore. But I don’t know how any of that works.”

Suddenly, everything began to make sense. Before finding out that the members of the Pillar of Heaven – or at least the leaders of the organization – were aliens, I’d begun to wonder if my worldview was irreparably skewed. After all, they seemed like good people who just wanted to help. That they had an ulterior motive – to add to their collective – was comforting, in a way.

And wholly horrifying as well.

But what really terrified me was that I could see the draw. If I understood the situation correctly, the benefits on offer were a powerful motivator. How many addicts would do anything – even giving themselves over to a hive mind – if it meant they could leave their habits behind?  Making it even more attractive was that those people would never have to worry about where they might find their next meal. Or where they would sleep on a cold, winter night. I’d met plenty of people who would have made that tradeoff.

What’s more, I had to wonder if it was necessarily a bad thing. Presumably, the Pacificians wouldn’t provide all those benefits without getting something in return. Joining a hive mind likely meant working toward the greater good, which meant that a host of unproductive people would suddenly be forced to pull their share of the weight.

“And what makes them the bad guys? There has to be a catch if your teachers made a point to mention them as some great enemy, right?” I said.

He shrugged. “I…uh…we didn’t get that far before Master brought me out here. He said that sitting in the Temple was a poor education, regardless of how many facts they taught me,” the boy said.

That seemed like a fair enough assessment. As far as I’d seen, experience was a much better teacher than listening to an instructor drone on and on. For one, my time in the classroom back in Nova had taught me only what they wanted me to know. By comparison, seeing something with my own two eyes was free of any bias other than my own. For another, things just hit differently when you experience them yourself. I could hear descriptions of monsters all day long, but nothing could compare to finding myself face-to-face with an alligator the size of a small house.

“So, Master told me that if you saw me, I’m supposed to bring you back,” my one-time stalker said. “So…uh…you need to come with me.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked.

“I’m supposed to make you,” he answered, his voice quivering with fear.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Clearly, Freddy had a sense of humor if he thought the kid would be capable of forcing me to do anything. And in any case, I felt it was probably a good idea to reunite with my old, Templar acquaintance.

But first, I had a question to ask.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Brad.”

“Uh…just Brad? That doesn’t seem very Templar-like.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged and said, “Nothing. Just making a comment. So, lead on. Let’s go see Freddy.”