Page 63 of Scion

There’s an electronic whirr. A kind of compression in the air, a soft “pop.”

The large man’s body slumps to the ground beside me, minus his head. Which, given what I know of how a Pulse cannon works, is presumably sprayed very thoroughly over the floor and digiglass wall behind me.

“And, done,” I say with a final, emphatic tap on the screen, though it’s drowned out a bit by the shouting and screaming of the other two in the room. Blue-eye is shrieking override codes, I think, though she’s incoherently panicked enough that I’m not sure they’d work even if Atti wasn’t in control of the system. The man is hammering at the door, which is locked.

“Wow, you two are as bad as lifers. Calm down. Things aren’t so bad.” I stand and stretch. Point at the other man Blue-eye brought along with her, who raises his hands as if I’d aimed a Gauss at him. “Can you get me access to Floor 132?”

He stammers a laugh. “One thirty-two? You know that’s exec, right?”

The Pulse cannon smears him into a corner of the room. I point to Blue-eye.

“Can you get me access to—”

“YES! Yes, yes!” she gasps.

“They changed the security yesterday. It needs local verification.”

“I know. I know. I have access. DNA and passcode.”

“What about the elevator?”

You’re so lazy, I swear.

“Yes! Of course. I can unlock it. Easy,” she wheezes, sounding like she’s in the midst of a heart attack.

I watch her closely, silent for a few long seconds. “Alright,” I say eventually, smiling reassuringly at her. “Off we go, then. And do try to look less… you know.” I gesture to her generally terrified state. “We wouldn’t want anyone to try and stop us, would we?”

Blue-eye, to her credit, takes a few shaky breaths and then pulls herself together enough to seem passably calm. I assess her, then wave my hand and the door slides open, just long enough for Blue-eye, me, and the turrets to get through. Atti, smartly, shuts and locks it again before anyone can wander past and peer in.

“Lead the way,” I tell Blue-eye cheerfully.

We walk in silence, back much the same way we walked from the hangar, to a set of elevators. Blue-eye, true to her word, verifies and punches in whatever overrides are necessary into a newly fitted data pad, and steps back. I examine the screen.

The lift is, indeed, cleared for 132.

She looks at me, and her expression very clearly asks if I’m going to kill her now she’s done what I needed her to. I think about it.

“No,” I say eventually, my happiness at not having to climb a stupid amount of steps swinging the decision in her favour. “No point. But I’d hate to cause a stir down here, so you’re going to have a friend for a while.” I gesture at the turrets behind her head. “Just to make sure nothing goes wrong, avoid any misunderstandings, that sort of thing.”

She nods, pale and drawn and drained and somehow grateful all at once.

I hit 132 on the data pad. The doors hide her and the Pulse cannons from view, and then I’m rising.

“Not bad,” I say, looking up into the cam.

“WE DID PRETTY WELL.” The voice booms out around me. Deep and masculine, almost growling.

I choke. “Atti? What in the hell was that?”

“STUPID ELEVATOR DOESN’T HAVE A MODULATOR. BEST I CAN DO.”

“You sound like you’re going to try and consume my soul.”

“SHUT UP.”

“Yes, sir. Anything you say. Please, just don’t hurt me.” I hold up one hand and one stump in brief mock surrender. “How long since we arrived?”

“THIRTEEN MINUTES. YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE STAIRS.”