Prelude to the End of Season Two

Ara Satoshi, Vice President of Operations for Goshi Mining Corporation, scrolled down an inventory of repairs and upgrades that would finally begin in the ravaged mines of Geneva Prime as soon as he gave the approval. Three months ago something inexplicable had gone on a rampage through the city which ended in an explosion that leveled an entire sector and in the aftermath the insurgency had finally been stemmed. Pictures of Acetylene Sue's severed head were plastered around the city. Moses was declared dead in the explosion (again) and the Underground Mechified Army laid down weapons the next day. Every day since then had been a dreary cleanup operation: cataloging the dead, clearing rubble, restoring basic services, flushing out the last few stubborn insurgents - a real nightmare of tedium.

Now, at last, the real work of rebuilding could begin and within a few weeks it might even be feasible to start making projections about the long-term profitability of the mine in light of the costs of the upheaval.

Satoshi was a money man. He took personal pleasure in making the difference between the income column and the expenditure column as heavily weighted toward the former as possible. He loved money, and not in an abstract way. Those digits in black ink were more than a symbolic representation of effort over time. To Satoshi money was an addictive drug. Money presents options. Doors open at the behest of stacks of cash. Mouths open and spill their secrets too. Even legs can be made to open with money.

His love of money had made him a good, efficient executive for Goshi, but he'd seen a great deal of his efforts crumble and burn this past year. None of it would endanger the company. Goshi profits from previous years would easily sustain them through this period of readjustment, but the infrastructure he had so carefully installed was in total disarray and despite his past successes Ara Satoshi had no illusions of being irreplaceable. Typhon, Kiyoshi, Hurricane and Yamoto... the names of fellow directors, executives at Goshi, who within the last year had "been removed". Only his colleagues Rain and Dr. Omura remained with him in the Executor's employ.

Not for the first time he wished he could get his hands on Moses and his associates who had been largely responsible for spurring the insurrection to such catastrophic heights.

Just then the light on his intercom flashed. The voice of his secretary came through, "Director Satoshi, that man claiming to be from the Black Lotus ring is here to see you."

"Send him in."

***

Deep in the jungle, Kufu settled down for a nap, but could not sleep. One of his meals, a few weeks ago now, was still giving him indigestion. Each time he closed his eyes a rushing succession of gory images would roll through his mind. Eyeless corpses. Swelling, pulsating red tumors. A bloody lagoon. Incomprehensible voices from slathering maws on the edge of a hungry abyss.

That hunger which he had always known as a Jevumm was sharper and more urgent now, and somehow, even he recognized it, insidious. Rather than hunting once or twice a week Kufu had been hunting nearly every day lately - and not for small game. He was driven further and further north on his hunts, out of his own territory, close to the Cheldrun frontier. His hunger was specifically for their flesh and he tasted it almost nightly. Not only was he killing more frequently, but as he did he could hear childish feminine laughter echoing from his own mouth.

One afternoon he pounced on the Mechified driver of one of the great logging behemoths the Cheldrun drive over the jungles, when a bullet stung his side. A distant sniper, recently placed to protect the loggers because of Kufu's attacks, was lining up a second shot. Kufu disappeared into the underbrush and crept to the sniper's position. He tore the sniper's arms off first, so he would not be able to resist while Kufu snacked on his entrails.

As the sniper's corpse grew cold, Kufu sat in his perch, looking over the Cheldrun camp lit up at night. He had eaten his fill, but the urge to kill had not subsided. Changing into his human form, he picked up the sniper's rifle and it occurred to him that he knew precisely how to use such an instrument. A maniacal woman's laugh rang through the jungle as he peered through the scope.

***

The Griolsa Clan celebrated tonight as they did most nights, but on this evening there was a special occasion. The last cairn was built, the last dead were buried. Tonight they celebrated, for the last time, the fallen of Ben Hamor.

Looking around those gathered at the fire she could see that the clan was disproportionately made of children, now. So many of these children would soon be embarking on their adolescence and may not come back. Normally this would have been no concern, but with their numbers so diminished, every child lost was another blow to her battered soul. She refused to dwell on that tonight, though. Tonight was a time for joyful remembering.

Larkin lead the children in a dance around the fire. As the drums and the fiddles played he extemporized a song about the battle of Ben Hamor. "The demons they tore at us, but could not bring us down, for we fought alongside the Gods no less, and did not give the ground..."

Sloan slid up next to Edana and handed her a horn of mead, "That's a colorful way of putting it, don't you think? Demons and Gods?"

Edana sipped from the horn and nodded, "Colorful and true."

"One of the adolescents ran into Angus out in the fields this morning. Said he thinks he's ready to come back. Normally, Angus said, he would have thought he was too young, but us bein' in the state we are, we could use another strong back."

Edana said nothing, but smiled to herself.

"And besides, we haven't been attacked recently, and the scouts have been finding the Eyeless corpses everywhere. They just fell down dead, like whatever was driving them suddenly got switched off. Winter's here, it'll rain hard in the next few weeks. We might be safe for a while, if the demons are really gone."

She finished draining her horn and looked at him with a mischievous grin, "Why are you trying to have a serious talk with me tonight Sloan?"

With that she tackled him, knocking him into the mud. They rolled over several times, as he tried to get his bicep around her head and she kneed him repeatedly in the stomach. Eventually she dragged him away behind one of the huts and ripped off his clothes. She grabbed the roof of the building, accidentally tearing away thatching and pressing her face against the stone as he groaned behind her. She didn't hear a thing.

***

"Think about it, Rain. You need a chance to test out the new DisLocators that won't trigger too many warnings among other members of the Yogensha League, and we both need something to impress the Executor with." Ara Satoshi's voice came over the telepathic network, through the speaker phone on her desk. She could hear him inhaling his cigarette between sentences.

"You're wrong, director Satoshi. The Executor cannot be impressed. We would do better to simply be efficient at our jobs, rather than improvising."

The link was sending signals of exasperation. She could tell he really wanted to try this, and she was, despite herself, intrigued by the prospect. "Rain, darling, I've been with Goshi for a long time. Longer than you. No doubt you're more in the Executor's favor than I at the moment, but I think you need more perspective. How do you think Blade got into the position he's in? Not by being afraid to take risks, and though he'll certainly keep you around if you aren't making too many mistakes, he will make your life miserable if he ever finds out you failed to capitalize on an opportunity. This is an opportunity."

Rain, did some calculations silently to herself. Satoshi was hearing it all, no doubt, but that was irrelevant.

"Very well. Who is your source?"

Satoshi's response was eager, "A Zipsum. An addict. A low-level errand-boy for the Black Lotus ring. Not the kind of person who inspires confidence, I know, but his descriptions were extraordinarily accurate and he possesses information that he couldn't have known unless he were recently in contact with them."

Rain grimaced, "Sounds like a setup to me."

"I thought the same thing so I had this guy..." There was a pause as Satoshi looked at his notes, "Tricks. I had him subjected to some of the enhanced interrogation techniques that Dr. Aliya Pain developed, you know, the ones that Blade recommended to us a couple years ago. He certainly didn't realize what he was getting himself into when he came to me he was just looking to score some cash to feed his habit, but I think the information is solid. The revolutionary Moses, former director Daitokuji Kiyoshi, the foundling from Project Scion, one of our Prill test-subjects, an unknown Zipsum, and, of all things, a Vorax! They're all in a place called the Grand Chantry."

Rain was growing less skeptical, "And you think this addict's description of the constellations is accurate enough for us to develop some coordinates for the DisLocator's?"

"I do."

The pause as Rain decided was considerable. "Thank you for this information, Director Satoshi. I'll take it from here."

"But... wait!" the link was radiating irritation, "I got this information. I think I should be involved."

"You've already been involved quite enough. As acting director for security at Goshi Corp, the specific arrangements and strategies for deploying the Heishi are mine to handle. Good day."

She severed the connection.

Leaning back in the chair, Rain began running a variety of strategies through her mind. This had all the makings of being a classic security disaster. After witnessing the two security directors before her disposed of for mistakes, she was determined not to step into something without having accounted for all the factors. Without question, this situation presented an interesting opportunity, but however events unfolded, she would not be the one left holding the bag, when it blew up.