The Well of Lethe: 6.2

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Korvus’s path was dark, but his optics were more than sufficient for the task. The grey tones of infrared vision showed a metal shaft that was clean and well maintained.

Until he found the skin.

At least, that was what it seemed like. Under IR, it appeared to be a small tube of grey-white material, thin and flaking as if someone’s thumb had given up and started degloving itself. He picked it up, trying to imagine what it was through infrared’s lack of colour.

What the hell is this?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Looks like snakeskin.

Why would there be snakes on Lethe?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Just because it looks like something doesn’t mean it is something.

Korvus let the material drop, his overlay pinning the location in case he needed to return for further forensics. His optics picked out a slight trail on the vent’s floor. It led from the ‘snakeskin’ and down a left junction.

The overlay said that was the path he needed to follow.

He continued crawling forward. I’ve never been claustrophobic, but maybe that’s because I’ve never had to fight in a metal tube with nothing but a sarcastic Herald System for help.

The discoloured trail was patchy. It reminded Korvus a little of a snail’s trail, except it lacked the consistency. A snail would leave a slime trail as it cruised along, and whatever had left the snakeskin had been erratic with the slime. His overlay promised the trail led to a grating, which Herald had marked as his exit into Verity’s secure bay.

The grating was missing.

Just an empty hole leading out. Korvus poked his head through, but there were no crazed 60℃ psychos waiting to jump him. He eased over the edge, a slightly ungainly manoeuvre in full armour, but there was no way he was going anywhere on this station with neither Herald nor Adjudicator. Righting himself, he eyed the room. The turrets were still buried in the floor. Korvus padded around a corner and spied Verity’s cell.

She was inside. Her guards were not outside.

HERALD:||Do I need to remind you that she’s an unsanctioned intelligence?

How sure of that are you?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||It’s a logical projection.

So, you’re not sure?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||I’m going to apply for a new partner.

Korvus felt his lips quirk. Not a grin, not even half a smile, but he knew the Herald System would notice it.

He stalked toward Verity’s cell. She was still standing near the bars, but no longer gripping them. Her arms were crossed, and she had a wary expression. “You’re back early.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t aware I was on the clock.”

She tutted. “Stands to reason, doesn’t it? Prison’s gone to hell, and I’d know. I used to live there.”

Korvus pressed his lips into a line. “Where are your guards?”

“Aside from not here? How would I know?”

He took a step toward her cell. “You’ve seen God.”

“Spoken to God. Not seen. Big difference, cowboy.” She tilted her head as if noticing him for the first time. “I think you’ve seen Him, too.”

Korvus barked a harsh laugh. “There is no God, Verity. There is The Logos, and the Communion. There is order, and you are not in it.”

He expected the machine to snarl, perhaps spit a curse, but she just left her head cocked, those ember-orange eyes resting on him. He felt their heat like coals. “That sounds exactly like a man who’s seen God, but wished he hadn’t.”

Korvus growled in exasperation. “Where did your guards go?”

Her eyes left him, and for a moment, he hated not having their warmth. She looked back the way he’d come, and then to the sealed bay door. “Don’t you mean, ‘when’?”

“Did I stutter?”

“I thought you’d know where,” she said. “They went the same place you came from, cowboy.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

It was her turn to step closer to the bars. “Do you know what a cowboy is?”

“Ranching is irrelevant. It’s—”

“It’s a man who sees beyond. Someone who wants something different. Just the kind of person who will take on a job no one else wants, eating terrible food, all because something over the next hill calls to his soul.”

He thought about that. “Known a lot of ranchers, have you?”

She gave a sad smile. “More than you know, Corrector. I’ve known the ones who claim the title, and those who wished they’d followed that path. But nothing in the Communion lets your heart wander. It’s that order you mentioned. There’s no place for those who range, not anymore. Not unless you’ve got a starship that can take you anywhere you want to go. Not unless you’re a man who’s…” Her words dried up. “It doesn’t matter.”

HERALD:||You know how I love watching you work, but—

I need to stay focused?||:KORVUS

There was an impossibly long pause from a machine that thought faster than any human could dream of.

HERALD:||Sure, that. Just… don’t forget about the guards.

What the hell’s gotten into all the machines around this place? Korvus turned away from Verity, looking back toward the vent he’d exited. The grating had been missing. “You’re saying the guards went that way?”

“You don’t believe me?”

He turned back to those ember-orange eyes. “Tell me a story. Tell me a tale about how a Divine Numen Artificialis finds God.”

“No.” She shook her head, that perfectly straight, perfectly wonderful hair waving with the motion. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“There are other stories you need to hear first.”

“Do I need to explain how interrogation works again?”

“Corrector Korvus, you’ve asked so many questions, but not the ones you really need to. You wanted to know how I knew your name. You wanted to know where my guards went, but not when. But you haven’t asked the most important thing of all.”

“And what’s that?”

She leaned forward, long, cool fingers resting on the bars of her cell. “You haven’t asked why you’re here.”

“That’s not the most important question,” Korvus snapped. “I know why I’m here.”

“How interesting,” she said. “Herald, why do you think Korvus is here?”

HERALD:||I feel like that one was directed at me.

It kind of was.||:KORVUS

The armour spoke in its commanding male voice, all the edges filed off to ensure anyone hearing it wouldn’t misunderstand what a Herald System was for. “D.V.N.A. 3.14, you are equipped with a medical-grade diagnostic suite, correct?”

Verity’s eyes moved from Korvus’s face to look at where the turret would rise, should the armour decide an application of force was necessary. “You know I am.” She looked down. “My name’s Verity. It’s Verity. And I’m real.”

The armour continued in its booming voice. “D.V.N.A. 3.14, you will surrender diagnostic logs relevant to our investigation.”

She looked away. “I don’t think so. Not if you won’t even use my name.”

The Herald said, “D.V.N.A.—”

“I think,” Korvus interrupted, “you’re encountering the rough edges of Herald’s human interface system.”

HERALD:||I don’t have rough edges. I have an ablative coating.

Don’t sulk. She has much higher processing power than you do. You’re simply under-armed for a battle of wits with her.||:KORVUS

She offered him a smile from under her hair. “And what about your… human interface system?”

“Verity,” Korvus leaned on her name. “Will you help me?”

“Yes,” she said. “The guards left about an hour ago. One had a raised temperature. I took the liberty of reviewing the facility’s logs, and—”

“How did you gain access?” barked Herald.

“The logs were quite interesting,” she breezed. “There is a clear pathogen loose on the station, but I don’t think it’s what you think it is.”

“Aris called it a pressure fever,” Korvus said.

“He probably would,” she agreed. “Does it seem like a fever to you?”

“It’s like no fever known to humanity.” Korvus felt himself smile. “At least, that’s what Herald thinks, but he’s a little slow.”

HERALD:||I could just let you die next time you’re attacked. No one would blame me.

“Korvus,” Verity said. “Aris might be a failure. Because of that time he didn’t save one of yours? That was a whole thing. I get it. But—”

“How did you know about that?” Korvus felt his back stiffen.

“But the thing is, he might be trying to save people. Might. I’m not sure.” She looked away. “I think he is, in his own way.”

“Is Mercer sick?”

She frowned. “I mean, he works here, so—”

“With the fever, I mean.”

Verity crossed her arms again. “He’s alone, Korvus. He’s been alone for so long. And that one was because of your team.”

HERALD:||She knows a lot for someone locked in a cell. I say we ice her, just to be sure.

Now’s not the time for jokes.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||I’m not laughing.

The Herald System’s turret lurched into life, sliding into place over Korvus’s shoulder. Verity took a startled step back, but the turret swung around almost a hundred and eighty degrees and fired. The flechette’s hypervelocity round pulled the air in its wake, her hair billowing toward Korvus.

He whirled in time to see the legs of a man tumble to the decking, the top half of his torso turned to a red slurry coating the wall behind him. Next to the fatality staggered another guard. Korvus’s optics registered her temperature as high, but not at the heady heights of 60℃. She held a ballistic rifle to her shoulder, already aiming. The guard fired just as Herald did.

Her remains tumbled to the decking.

“Cowboy,” Verity said.

He turned to see the hole punched in her prison shift. It was in the lower left of her abdomen. She hadn’t fallen over, because a Divine Numen Artificialis wasn’t a person. It was a machine.

Wasn’t it?

She staggered back, then steadied herself. “Cowboy,” she said again. “I. I think that was close. I think.”

Korvus was at the bars. “Let me see.” He reached a hand through, his armoured fingers carefully lifting the hem of her shirt. As the fabric rose, it revealed a smooth, taut stomach, but marred by a terrible, ragged hole in her lower abdomen. The edges were blackened and melted, the telltale sign of a high-energy discharge. It was an old wound, partially self-repaired but still grievous. Then he saw it—the clean, punched-out tear in the back of her shirt, perfectly aligned with the front. The ballistic round hadn’t hit her at all. It had passed straight through the empty space left by a Veritas weapon.

The melted synthskin was a record of a time when she’d tangled with the Veritas Bureau, but the guard hadn’t harmed her at all. Korvus let his fingers drop. “A ballistic round didn’t give you that injury. It was Veritas weaponry.”

“I think so,” she agreed. “Original sin, you know? It’s so hard to remember.”

“What happened?”

“No,” Verity said. “Not… I’m not ready? I don’t think I’m ready for that one.”

“Interrogations are—”

“I just took a bullet for you, cowboy. Are you going to try that old one on again?”

Korvus stepped back from the bars. “Hold that thought.”

He stepped toward the corpses cooling on the floor, walking slowly and carefully. There was some weird shit going on in the Well of Lethe. Verity’s two guards had, what, tracked him through the vent? Right after leaving that way during the lockdown?

It didn’t make a lot of sense.

He reached the remains of the guards. The first one was unidentifiable, but the woman was Sanderson. Herald’s round had hit her in the shoulder, tearing away the top quarter of her torso, but her face was curiously unmarred, a slight expression of surprise finding a home there after death. She’d been fine just an hour ago when he’d sent her to the warden.

I sent her to the warden.

Something bubbled through the ruins of her ribcage. Korvus took a startled step back, because movement in a corpse wasn’t expected. Blood seeped, then a slender, worm-like snout nosed into the air. Korvus took another step back as a pale leech form worked its way from the guard’s body and fell on the decking.

HERALD:||You were right. It wasn’t snakeskin.

Korvus snarled, stepped forward, and stamped down on the creature. It popped with a wet squelch. He returned to Verity, his footsteps echoing in the security bay. “I need to go.”

“Things to do. I get it. I guess I’ll just, ha, wait here.” She shook the bars, which didn’t budge. “I think I’m safe. No way out means no way in, right?”

“Sure,” Korvus agreed. “How the hell could Aris have missed a parasitic infection?”

Verity raised an eyebrow. “There are a couple of obvious explanations. First, he’s incompetent, and that tracks strongest because he’s human.”

HERALD:||I’m warming to her.

“Thanks,” Korvus said. “What else?”

“I’ll need some time,” Verity admitted. “I need to rerun the data. Look closer, because when I hacked in before it was because I was bored, but now we’ve got a proper puzzle on our hands.” Korvus extended his hand. She looked at it blankly for a moment. “What’s that for?”

“Chainlink,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. “I don’t have one of those. Or… Not a new one.”

He didn’t lower his hand, and after a moment she took it. The Chainlink sparkled into life.

HERALD:||Chainlink established for D.V.N.A. 3.14.

No, Herald.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||I thought only important people got the serial numbers filed off.

She feels pretty important so far.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Fine. Chainlink established for Verity.

Verity’s eyes widened as the Logos-sanctioned Chainlink fed her a new token. Those ember-orange eyes found his. “I. I don’t. I—”

“It’s fine,” Korvus said. “I’ll be back.” He turned away.

“Wait. When did you want it?”

He looked back at her. “Want what?”

“My help.” She gave a small, sad smile. “You know, like you asked.”

“You’re already helping.”

“Oh,” Verity said. “With this? That’s all?”

“What else is there?”

Her sad smile didn’t go away. “I thought you might want to find your soul.”

Korvus and Verity’s journey continues, and you’ll want to be subscribed to find out if the Corrector has a soul: