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Zeta Disconnect: Fetch (chapter 3)

Zeta Disconnect: Fetch (chapter 3)


15 Oct 2327, 1139 GMT / Piccadilly Circus, London

Z-4Q’s map showed his compass-rose and his green diamond in the same spot over Piccadilly Circus. He looked around. He was surrounded by old brick and stone buildings, covered in the same ash as everything else he had seen so far. The ground floor of every building was just glass store fronts, or rather had been, all of the glass was long-since gone, and everything was simply open. He could see a few people on rooftops, standing in ruined store displays that had been converted to apartments, or walking from building to building casually. This place had more residents than any place other than in the immediate vicinity of the river. There was no evidence of any leadership, however. Nothing seemed organized, and nothing looked newly constructed. Z-4Q walked over to the center of the plaza, where an old fountain stood, broken for decades already. At the agent’s feet he spotted a metal cupid. He stared up at the top of the fountain, where the cupid had once been fastened. He wondered why the piece hadn’t yet been taken into someone’s apartment as a decoration. These people must not have enough spirit left for decorations. Z-4Q pulled his boom mic down again.

“Map off. Give me close range mode with the input from the QSD.” The screen flashed, and the map was gone. In it’s place was a range meter. At the bottom of the display, the green diamond still blinked. Z-4Q tilted his head down until the diamond was fully on the screen. “The target’s underground?” he asked to the air. A small green light flashed on the display in front of his left eye, the signal for an affirmative answer to a direct question. He hadn’t meant to ask the computer, so he was momentarily startled. He reached up to push the retract button, but hesitated, “What’s the best route to that section of the underground?” he asked. The reply came on the screen: Insufficient data. “Okay, erm… According to the maps and diagrams available, what would have been the best route to reach the location of the displayed target?” That was good enough. Another diamond shaped waypoint appeared on the edge of his field of vision. This one was blue. He turned his head to see where it was trying to lead him, and found it pointing directly to one of the underground entrances. There were also some gray waypoints that traced a jagged path from the blue diamond to the green.

He walked toward the blue point. When he reached the stairwell, the point disappeared, and the next point in the string, at the bottom of the steps, turned blue. He followed the points down several sets of steps, over the rubble of some turnstiles, down a long and broken escalator, and finally into the train tunnel. He was within 20 meters of the device, and the QSD was not tuned to pick up the signal more precisely, because it would have lost its range in exchange for the sensitivity. A train was stopped in the tunnel. It had been converted to apartments. People were sitting in furniture made from the original seats, and the doors had been removed, and then reattached with hinges, so that they swung freely. A few people had stopped what they were doing to stare at Z-4Q from where they stood on the platform or from the windows of their train cars, but most of the residents of this strange village went about their normal business. A few of the cars had signs over the doors, and tables of goods could be seen through the windows. One shop seemed to carry various metal tools shaped from scrap. Another was selling loaves of bread.

Z-4Q was reluctant to speak into his headset while people around him were looking at him, so he swiftly retracted the boom, then put his right hand in his right hip pocket, where a small input pad was sewn into his pants. He toggled the small switch to activate the pad and began to slowly type: increase QSD sensitivity to maximum. As quickly as he was able to press the enter key, the green diamond moved from a vague position in the middle of the platform, to a very specific position in the middle of the last car. He watched the range meter count down his distance to the target as he walked toward it …15m … 10m … As he approached the car, more of the nearby people seemed interested in him … 5m … 3m … Unlike all of the other cars, this one looked very dark inside … 2m … 1.5m … Z-4Q stopped outside the door of the car. The windows were not just dark, they were curtained. The door looked unlatched. He drew a pistol from inside of his jacket, and readied himself to pull the door open. Slowly he reached out with his left hand, and grabbed the door handle.

He threw the door open, and raised his gun in both hands, moving it back and forth in the doorway, to ensure that he would not be surprised. There was no reaction from inside, so cautiously, slowly, he moved in. The dim car had but a single occupant. Sitting on one of the only two remaining seats in the car, was an elderly gentleman. He was skinny and his skin seemed very loose and dry. His hair and face were a pale shade of grey. The exception was his lips which were a deep red, flecked with black spots. There was a small lead case, lined with several other materials, sitting open in his lap. A small device, looking not unlike a pocket calculator was resting in the middle of the box. The man slowly reached up, and closed the lid of the small box. The green diamond faded from Z-4Q’s vision.

“Hello, Zaq.” The old man said as he looked up. Thank you for finally coming back for me.”

Z-4Q lowered his weapon as he looked the man in the eyes. The man’s bright green eyes were powerful and reassuring. Something about him was very familiar, and comforting. He looked down at the man’s slight form. He was wearing Marines issue covert blacks, and a marines issue black jacket, just like the one Z-4Q was wearing, except much older and worn, although obviously clean and well cared for.

Z-4Q put his weapon away, and reached up to turn off his PHUD and push the goggles up onto his forehead. “I’m afraid,” he said casually, “That you have me at a disadvantage.”

The old man wheezed and coughed as he chuckled, “Yes, of course,” he said, “Your memory will have been erased by now. I am Kit”

“I remember now; Agent K-1T. I remember the name but not your face.”

“I’m surprised that you remember as much as you do.” Kit said, “You wouldn’t remember my face either way. I’ve aged almost half a century since you last saw me. From the look of that wound, it’s been less than a few days of your time.”

“You’re the agent who left behind the device 48 years ago?” Z-4Q asked him.

“You mean they didn’t tell you when you woke up?” The old man chuckled again, “Yes, I’m the agent who lost this item, and you were there. You were my partner.”

“They told me you were dead…” Z-4Q trailed off, then reached up to touch his chin. “You know how this happened?” he asked.

“I do, but it seems like it’s in worse condition now, then when I saw it last. It must be this wretched ash- and where did you loose your stitches? I guess they weren’t put in very well.” The old man got a strange grandfatherly look about his face. “Why don’t you wash your face in that basin over there, and I’ll put some fresh stitches in for you.”

Z-4Q did as he was told, he trusted this man completely, as he must have had to do on past missions. When he sat down in the seat across from Kit, the old man pulled a small handled case off of a nearby shelf.

“I don’t have the best medical supplies down here,” he said, “but if somebody doesn’t do something about the ash in that wound, it’ll get infected. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. I’ll have to cut some of this healed skin away to get at the ash. It wont hurt much, the ash has a bit of an anesthetic effect.

“This is a gunshot wound. We were here in London, trying to deliver this package.” Kit vaguely gestured to the lead case, which was now on the floor, “We didn’t know why at the time. It was just another covert drop-off mission to us, but we were ambushed by unidentified enemies. That’s when you were shot.” Kit paused his story while he finished wiping the ash from the wound with some kind of astringent liquid. “There, that’s most of the ash, it’s not possible for me to get all of it out with the supplies I have here, but that will keep out the infection.” He put the liquid away, and got out a needle and some fine wire.

He continued the story as he began to stitch the wound, “I thought you were dead right then, and soon, I was down as well. I had been shot twice. I must have been out for at least a day, because when I came to, you were tending to me, and you had stitched your wound up already.” Kit hesitated for a moment to allow himself to concentrate on a particularly difficult stitch. “The enemy had made off with the device. I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I remember you telling me to find the device as soon as I could, and to save it for you because you would be back for it in about fifty years. I was developing a fever, and couldn’t argue with you. In addition, you had somehow burned out my red button, as if it had been used. I still can’t figure how you did that, but now I understand why you did it, even if I was angry with you at first. I assumed that you must have known more about our mission than I did, so when you left, I found a place to hide, and built my strength back up. The War started during that time, but I managed to find ways to hide out and survive the quantum bombs. It was all over in a couple of weeks. Everything was gone, and the few survivors started to build new lives in the ruins. Many died from the ash, but many more proved to be resistant to it. I finally found the device, discarded by the enemy, they no longer needed it. The damage had been done.

“We failed, Zaq. I don’t think that The War of The Consonants was ever supposed to happen. I think that our delivery of that item was supposed to help stop that war, and I think you knew that; that’s why you left me behind to try and retrieve the item. I hung on to this thing for all of this time, and finally this morning, I decided to open the case, and hope that it would help you find me. Obviously it did.” Kit finished the last stitch and leaned back to admire his handiwork, “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Z-4Q said at last.

Kit put his needle away, and picked the lead case back up, “here. You need to go back and deliver this, but you need to do it without checking-in at HQ. If you check-in, then they wont let you back out without an erasure, and who knows if the right person will get the assignment. You need to do it yourself; you already know how important it is. You’ll be saving Europe; and possibly more.”

“Thank you again, “Z-4Q took the case out of Kit’s hands. “Can I do anything for you?”

“You can give me a spider.”

“A spider”

“Yes, I know you must have at least one.”

“For what?”

“For myself,” said the old man, ” I want to go home”

“But-“

“I know the consequences.” the old man interrupted.

Z-4Q knew them, as well. Returning via a spider was a last resort, because it was very unstable, and living things rarely survived the journey, but that would matter little for Kit. Living in this era or almost fifty years, he will have absorbed a lot of matter from this time into his system. Most of his body would actually be made of particles from the wrong time. If he tried to return with a spider or even a safer ‘red button’, much of him would go home, but much of him would also stay behind.

Z-4Q reached into his pocket, and handed the small pouch to Kit.

“Thank you.” Kit said simply, “My job is done here; it’s time to go.”

“Ditto.” Z-4Q turned and left the car as Kit placed the spider against the skin of his forearm. After he left, the inside of the car glowed bright white for a moment, but the surviving agent didn’t see; he was pulling his PHUD back down over his eyes as he walked away. He put the lead case into a shining blue bag. Then, he looked down to his watch and pushed a short sequence of buttons, which caused a small light to appear. It glowed red. He walked around the station for a short time, until he noticed a slight change in the color. He moved slowly around the vicinity, trying to find the direction of the safe-spot. He found it, and followed the direction. The light became less and less red, and more and more green. Finally he stood outside of an electrical closet, which was missing its door. He stepped in and a small green ring appeared around the green light. He had found a safe-spot. He put his foot up onto a chair by the door, pulled up his pant leg, and lifted the plastic guard. Bracing himself, he pressed the red button and disappeared. A tattered pair of nylon boots was left behind.

Look for Chapter 3 of Zeta Disconnect next Monday on Short-Media. In the meantime, comment on this chapter in our forums.

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