Cosmosis

Perpendicular

(Starspeak)

Looking at the maps of Old Balumspar failed to properly share the city's geography. It was like San Francisco with steep, steep slopes leading directly to the water. But unlike the California urban jungle, this place had been overgrown for decades.

People stayed away because of the reputation. Even if Casti medical tech could treat most cancers, prolonged radiation sickness was still a reason for anyone to stay away.

But…

<Still nothing,> Jordan said, aiming a sensor gun at the ground. <No extra rads.>

The roar of the plane engines, not to mention our earplugs for gunfire: nobody bothered trying to talk vocally. We were within twenty miles of the drop point now. We'd all taken iodine just in case, but if we couldn't detect any ionizing radiation here, then it really was a hot zone no longer.

<Then we proceed with plan [Alfa,]> I said, repeating the message to everyone in the plane. <Do not fire first, anyone, especially in the air, but also once you're on the ground. We'll approach the compound slowly. We need to be ready to switch to [Bravo] at a moment's notice.>

One by one, everyone took note of the latest update to our psionically recorded plan. God, psionics were cheating. Tactical briefings were hard even with just a handful of people who needed to know the plan.

We had dozens, but with just a few psionics, we could guarantee everyone had every detail crammed right into their noggins.

Against most foes, that kind of troop synchronization would be an overwhelming tactical advantage.

The Missionary Marines were not going to be 'most foes'.

<What do you think?> I asked Nai.

<I think…the pros so grossly outweigh the cons.>

<…It's just a low, dirty move,> I agreed.

But we were going to do it anyway. Because we needed this to happen, no matter how much we didn't want it to.

I started making my way to the back of the plane and adjusted my psionic broadcast for an open band, impossible to hide or ignore.

<Mavriste, Macoru,> I shouted. <I think we need to talk!>

Nai gave a hand signal and a psionic pulse to match and rows of rak started jogging toward the rear door.

Ahead of them all, I was the first one to jump out of the plane.

Nai right behind me, along with Jordan, Madeline, Johhny, Donnie, and Tasser. Tens of thousands of pounds of Vorak and Flotilla gear, weapons, and soldiers poured out of the plane, all ready for the plummet to ground.

The plane continued north where it would land empty in a New Balumspar airfield, just like its flight plan said.

Everyone falling through the sky was going to experience much more nebulous plans the next couple minutes.

I was especially glad for Madeline's presence. She rounded out our tactical options sweetly. With just Johnny and Nai, we had two heavyweight Adepts that could make high-mass, high-impact moves if we needed. But that was the same number as the M&Ms. Madeline gave us an extra piece, and it freed me up to play my supporting role to its fullest instead of confronting one of their heavyweights as a stopgap.

Jordan, Donnie, and I didn't have those big, high-threat Adept tricks that could demand responses. We were best backing up others.

We'd paired off.

Jordan was supporting Madeline, Donnie supported Nai, and I was supporting Johnny.

We didn't pull our chutes at the same altitude as everyone else either, allowing ourselves to fall further so we'd hit the ground before our allies.

No one prepared me for the size of the trees.

I'd visited the redwood forests back home and seen firsthand just how thick and tall tree trunks could get.

Kraknor's swamp at Balumspar put even the largest redwoods to shame. What would have been a record breaking diameter on a tree back home was merely average on these trees. The wood was so thick and gnarled, I wondered if the trees hadn't somehow grown off the radiation that had once poisoned the region.

The canopy of trees stretched high above the deteriorated rooftops, and roads left only just enough room for each of us to parachute through without snagging any branches.

Broad daylight vanished in an instant below the canopy, and long shadows stretched in every direction. Like high noon were actually dusk.

Parachuting was a risky approach, especially for my crew without much experience in it.

But we were trained for zero-G, and I was proud when the only trouble we had were two of Avi's rak being blown off course by gusts of wind.

<Hello Caleb,> Mavriste's voice crackled over psionics. The signal was fuzzy. Disrupted in someway.

They were trying to confuse tracking.

I relayed that to everyone before responding.

<Did you know?> I asked. Cut to the chase.

Our plane was screaming overhead, and there was no hiding our approach. Talking to them was a mind game, but there were some things I wanted to know first.

<No,> Mavriste answered simply. <Not until Ingrid sat down with us.>

I glanced at Nai and Jordan. They believed him too.

<I think she wanted to help you,> I admitted.

<I know,> Mav said. <I sedated her so she didn't have the chance to. Mac and I agreed. We didn't want to put her in that position.>

<Kind of you,> I said. <Gotta say, though, the position you've put me in isn't any better.>

<I think the real tragedy of this is that we all put ourselves in these positions,> Mavriste said. <No hard feelings.>

I ignored that particular phrase. It was the first thing Mav had said that I might actually hold against him.

<Why'd you have the sedative?> I asked.

<Had to keep Ingrid from alerting you,> he said, audibly confused at the question. <Needed a few hours to get ourselves some distance between us and you.>

<I mean, you didn't show up planning to sedate Ingrid,> I said. <Why were you carrying it?>

<Oh. Hahaha! That's actually on you,> Mavriste said. <You seemed like you had quite the explosive temperament, after our dust up on the beach. I wanted a way to subdue a Human nonlethally if it came up again.>

I rolled my eyes. I could see what he meant by all of us putting ourselves into this mess.

<Well we can see you'll be on the ground momentarily. You're going to be a bit northeast of our camp. Come right in. There might still be a way to resolve this peacefully,> he said.

Mavriste even included a simple map file in the message.

<How polite,> Madeline grumbled.

<[Alfa] is on,> I announced.

The general outline of plan Alfa was for our Vorak allies to dig in and encircle the M&Ms while our faster moving Adepts struck into their camp. Johnny, me, Nai, and Donnie would tangle with Mac and Mav, pinning them down. It should leave Jordan and Madeline free to exploit their superior mobility and drive Vo into being caught in our perimeter.

Said perimeter was enough to surround the Missionary Marines' camp on three sides. Trouble was, they'd established their base in the remains of a hillside port. Decades ago, massive mechanized platforms moved up and down the slope moving ships and cargo as needed. But in the intervening years of neglect, the whole system was overgrown. Even the water itself wasn't so much water as swamp anymore. Whatever open water the port had been built around had long since been choked out by mud and roots. The colossal trees grew from both the hillside and the water, putting almost everything underneath the thick leafy canopy.

This was a critically vulnerable moment, after we first landed and all our squads were in disarray. But with our powerhouse Adepts landing first, the hope was that we would blunt any opportunistic attack with aggression of our own.

But the Missionary Marines didn't come out to meet us. Mavriste's invitation was probably genuine.

We began deploying candled radars, just in case their was an ambush waiting for us. Nai had manufactured dozens, so we could afford the uptime, but it was conceivable we might run out before any fighting was over. That would be close to the worst-case scenario.

As Johnny and I advanced together, with our other Adept pairs moving parallel to us one row of buildings over, we came in sight of the Missionary Marines' compound.

One look confirmed that this wasn't a makeshift base for them. There'd been time and effort put into the gate and walls that melded unnaturally with the surrounding buildings and greenery.

<This is a kind of home-away-from home, isn't it?> I asked Mavriste.

He showed himself by the gate while we were still dozens of yards away. There were other marines subtly in view too, barely peeking out from windows or trees. All armed. All ready.

<Sure,> he said. <We took a contract with the New Balumspar city council a few years ago to clean up the site. But then we came up with our smart plasma trick—we refined a method to neutralize a huge variety of unstable particles on contact. Turned a decade's work into just a few months. We told them, but they'd made plans around the original timeframe. And well, look around. The place is mostly a dump. So we've been borrowing it in the meantime while they take their time making restoration plans.>

<How'd you get your submarines into the swamp?> I asked, buying a little extra time to make sure all our teams converged on their camp.

<The water is deeper than it looks, and the tree roots all bend toward the landmass,> he shrugged. <Once you get more than thirty or forty feet deep, the water opens up. It's almost like being underneath a frozen lake, but with trees and roots instead of ice.>

<So which one is Vo on board?> I asked.

<Gotta say, I just about felt the world drop out from under me when Ingrid said their name,> he grimaced.

<Yeah, it stunned us too,> I said. <But you didn't answer my question. You said there might be a peaceful way to end this, and the only way I see that happening is if you turn over Shuma Norshun. We're not here for anyone else.>

<But why are you here?> Mavriste asked. <I know Gogathi is probably frothing at the mouth to get Vo back, but that doesn't explain why you're the ones here.>

I eyed him, trying to figure out if he was feigning ignorance.

<…You haven't talked to Halax, have you?> I asked.

His expression darkened while he raced through deductions, and I caught a flicker of his Macoru-simulacrum whispering something to him.

<…Ah,> he realized. <You're vulnerable.>

<We either make good on our word, or we're just digging ourselves into a very deep hole,> I said.

<You're capable of being diplomatic,> he offered. <You could explain your innocence. The coincidence. You could win them over.>

<I'm not worried about the ones I could win over,> I said, refusing to break his gaze. <I'm worried about the ones who won't give me a chance.>

I was grateful Mavriste didn't pretend those people didn't exist.

<…I can't go back on my word either,> he said. <I promise every desperate soul who joins our number that we won't give them up. We might get them killed or leave them behind, but we won't turn over one of our own. Not before they're ready.>

<Vo killed people,> I said. <What happened to them is awful and unforgivable, but even if they hadn't killed innocents in the process, they still deserve to face justice.>

Mavriste's jaw tightened, and he didn't give an immediate response. I didn't take my eyes off him as I checked in with our various squads.

All green. Everyone was ready to snap into action at the word 'go'.

<…Punishment isn't the same thing as justice,> Mavriste answered. "You've met Vo. They're not some remorseless killer. All we want is to give them a chance to change, to change into someone ready to accept justice. Rehabilitation instead of retribution.>

It was my turn to take my time responding, and not just out of tactical angling.

<…I'm not here to debate the merits of a particular philosophy,> I told him. <I'm here because if I don't, my people get hurt. And you're not going to surrender for the exact same reasons. Look around.>

The signs of activity were too new. Crates of equipment were in the open behind the gate, doors and the camp gates were open, hell, there was even a fresh mug visible on the sill of a broken window.

<You didn't expect us this quickly. You thought you had a few days before we caught up to you. We did our planning in a panic, but we still had twelve hours to stress test and refine it. The only plan you've got is what you stitched together in the last twenty minutes. And I'm betting on our twelve hours over your twenty minutes every single time.>

<Well Caleb…the only problem with that is that you aren't the only ones who have skills making plans on the fly,> Mav said.

It was a mistake, in retrospect, to not pay more attention to Macoru's conspicuous absence.

We moved before she actually showed herself. A good move, but a forced one, reacting to an unexpected wrinkle: Macoru was shockingly good at hiding her psionic presence.

She sprang up from a rooftop, black fur obscured by a cloak of technicolor plasma.

Crystal spikes erupted under Nai's feet in an attempt to launch herself toward Macoru, but it was half a second too slow.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The plasma warped into porcupine spikes the size of telephone poles, and they all fired outward simultaneously in a rolling barrage of fire on our three pairs of Adepts. It was a problem for us, not because it would hurt us—the six of us could all avoid the blasts—but because it got us to scatter at precisely the wrong time.

I flared my jets in rapid succession, ducking and weaving out of the way of hot plasma streaking by. Nai and Johnny both shielded themselves with sheer mass. I didn't see what Donnie did to get clear, but I heard the whir of Madeline's flight rotors dragging her and Jordan skyward.

<Forget [Bravo!]> I called. <We're on [Charlie].>

Tasser and Nemuleki's crew sent an acknowledgement. The Vorak crew shifted too, advancing closer.

Encirclement was going to be too passive. We needed more direct fire support, and that meant putting more of our troops closer to the danger. No helping it. We needed to put pressure on both—

Mavriste caught me off guard. I'd been focusing too much on his sister's walking artillery strike.

Black plasma snaked through the air, catching my ankle first only to adhere to my chest before I could react. It yanked me to the ground, dragging me across the asphalt, through the gate into their camp. If not for Nai having put invisible armor on me, I'd have the worst road rash imaginable.

Mavriste hauled in his plasma tether like a fishing line and flung me away from Johnny and—more importantly, I suspected—Nai.

<Sorry Caleb,> Mavriste said. <I'm taking you off the board.>

I materialized a plasma blast of my own—a far cry from his exotic work, but still—enough to disrupt Mavriste's plasma tether and free myself before I skidded to a kneeling stop.

He'd flung me clear across the camp toward the slope with the overgrown moving mechanized platforms.

<Get to Caleb!> Nai shouted at Johnny, currently tangling with Macoru.

<Don't let them isola—>

Their psionic signals went completely silent, even as I could see them still fighting. My eyes widened.

Instead of moving closer to his sister and consolidating their position, Mavriste had followed where he'd thrown me. Separating us both from the rest of the battle. He'd even deployed some kind of jamming bubble, invisibly stopping all psionic transmissions from crossing it.

My mind raced. It couldn't be that big, maybe a hundred feet? Two? Mavriste would know I was mobile enough to escape it.

But before I could make a concentrated effort at doing just that, Mavriste charged at me, simultaneously launching two bolts of black plasma into the ground.

I darted back to avoid his claws, only to stumble as the ground beneath me groaned and rumbled. Rusted steel ground against itself, and I realized that Mavriste hadn't just thrown me next to the edge of the mechanized platforms and their tracks.

He'd thrown me onto the only platform still at the top of the hill. And he'd just blasted what rusted mechanism had been keeping the platform secure at the top of the slope all these years.

It took only a second of acceleration as the platform slid down the massive rails, careening toward the bottom of the hill and carrying me further from my allies.

Mavriste didn't let up either. Even with forty-thousand pounds of metal hurtling like a landslide beneath our feet, he came at me with all the poise and composure of a jaguar.

I quashed the pit in my stomach.

The weight of his psionics and Adeptry still radiated off him in an ominous nova, and part of my brain snapped right back to when we first met on the beach when I only thought of him as 'big bear'.

…Except…I trusted my friends when they said I was smarter than an average one.

Claws swiped at my face, and my training kicked in. I was no stranger to Vorak trying to gouge out my eyes. I also wasn't afraid to fight like a coward.

With the footing so unstable, I didn't even try to spar with Mav. I flared my jets, trying to go over his head and get off the sliding platform before it accelerated any more.

Mavriste was too keen to allow that though. A net of plasma erupted in my way, forcing me to deflect back down to the platform, all the while Mavriste kept trying to close ground.

He was like me, fighting on a faster pace than most Adepts were used to, using psionics to optimize his planning speed and sharpen how consistency he could materialize his tricks.

Luckily, where I'd landed, I had a better view down the slope than Mavriste did, and I could see exactly when the platform was going to slam into the lowest point.

I timed my attack to arrive threefold, all in one moment.

My revolver materialized in my hand barking rounds right toward the rak, while at the same time, I launched a salvo of psionic javelins to probe at his mental defenses, and the platform slammed to a halt at the bottom of the slope.

It should have been a much more violent arrest, but overgrowth was more pronounced at the bottom of the slope, and the platform ground to a halt with the sounds and squelches of wed mud and wood gumming up the colossal gears beneath our feet.

Mavriste was forced to brace his footing just like I was for the moment the platform crashed to a halt, but a bullet striking his chest interrupted his attention at just the right time for my javelins to blow a pair of holes in his psionic firewall.

<Oh-ho!> he grinned behind his guard. <Synchronizing physical and psionic attacks? You're great!>

I ramped up my pace, varying the timing of my psionic attacks to try putting him further off balance while I peppered him with more bullets.

<This isn't fun for me!> I snapped.

<Do you believe in what you're doing?> he asked abruptly.

If this was supposed to be psychological warfare, it was devastatingly effective. The words threw me enough to break my focus on the psionic onslaught.

I didn't bother answering, and he didn't bother waiting for one.

<If you really do, then there's no helping it,> he said. <So while you're doing what needs to be done, it's acceptable to enjoy the excitement, and it's perfectly fine to do so without loving the violence.>

Devastatingly effective.

I had to redouble my efforts, adding kinetic bombs to the bullets I sent for him.

Mavriste darted toward the platforms edge, looking to break my line of fire. I chased him with my jets, and I was shocked to learn that he was as agile as I was.

While I pushed my body with pressurized jets of exotic gasses, Mavriste seemed to glide right through the air without touching anything. Cloaking his whole body in his black smart plasma, his appearance took on a different coloration, like he was blueshifted or photonegative.

But while he was completely wrapped up, he seemed to move in ways that defied physics. He would change direction without touching anything, accelerate abruptly in zig-zags that didn't match his line of travel or where he was facing.

This was ridiculous! How was I supposed to aim at this?

I needed to keep him on this platform. If he took the fight indoors, I'd be at a big disadvantage just from the sightlines.

Even with psionic radar helping me track his position, if he launched Adept attacks I couldn't see coming, I was toast.

Except…I didn't need to chase him anywhere.

I stopped shooting at him and even turned my back toward him, threatening to head back up the platform's tracks to aid the rest of my crew.

<Tides, call my bluff, why don't you?> Mavriste chuckled.

He abandoned his ruse of leaving the platform, and came back toward me again, materializing a gun of his own.

Mavriste's game plan was to isolate us both, gambling that removing me from my allies would hinder us more than his absence would hinder his.

I was more than willing to bet he was wrong.

But just because I felt one way didn't mean it was necessarily the right tactical move.

With the steep slope and overgrown buildings stretching up the hill to one side, the dense swamp apparently floating atop the water to the other side, and the canopy of trees overhead, this was feeling awfully a lot like a cage match.

"What should I focus my energy on?" I asked under my breath.

When I looked over all the information and psionics at my disposal, the answer came easily.

I materialized a transparent crystal riot shield to block Mav's shotgun slugs, digging in my heels and pivoting as he tried to circle behind me. He wanted me to stay put?

Fine.

I would oblige him.

But his mobility was a problem.

While he zipped around on his plasma, I forced myself to analyze rationally. Even if the plasma's composition was impossible for me to comprehend, at least some of its behavior would be observable.

Mavriste fired a few more shotgun slugs at me before switching gears with his plasma and firing some of the black plasma at me in a gentle arc.

Kinda like Macoru's version of the trick...

It moved a lot slower than a bullet, but it melted right through my riot shield like butter.

Recreating it forced me to reposition while Mavriste complemented the attack with more shotgun slugs, even adding something to his ammo to make it chew into my shields more.

That sequence repeated a number of times, and I took in every detail I could while I formed my plan of attack.

Most mysteriously, his plasma clearly separated him from the ground. He was standing on and in it like a thick carpet. I did something similar with my maneuvering jets, forcing air to stay between me and the ground to reduce friction.

But I had a feeling Mavriste's trick was a few steps beyond that.

As clearly as his plasma cloak allowed him to levitate a few inches off the ground, it simultaneously did not allow him to fly.

For a few brief moments, it seemed like he had, with his momentum swerving upward for a second or two, only for gravity to reassert itself and bring him back down.

As I fended off his probing attacks, I was beginning to form a better picture of what his plasma actually did. And the detail that clinched it for me was Itun.

When I'd fought him ever-so-briefly on the beach, he'd shown Adept skill that he'd lacked the first time we'd crossed paths years ago.

He'd created a whisper thin membrane capable of blocking bullets without flinching: clearly advanced kinetic asymmetry.

Mavriste's plasma was radically altering the momentum, friction, inertia, and overall motion of whatever it touched. And on the side, he could also heat the plasma to a blistering temperature with just a quick psionic pulse.

There were probably a lot of tricks jam-packed into the stuff. Plasma that changed its behavior in response to the right psionic signals was a crazy trick to come up with.

What troubled me was the fact that I couldn't pick up on the psionics he was using to control the plasma.

I had some theories as for why, but they basically all boiled down to the Adept difference between us; he'd fully Realized.

Staying on defense wouldn't help me. Sooner or later he was going to find a way through my guard. I needed to switch back into offensive gear and experiment.

Mavriste noticed immediately.

It would have been hard to miss the kinetic bomb I materialized right in his path.

His plasma cloak was asymmetrical enough to completely nullify the impact, but the cloak visibly thinned for a moment before thickening again.

There were limits to how much it could behave asymmetrically. Could it only handle so much energy at once? Or was it a stockpile of some kind that could be depleted over time?

I pressed the moment, materializing kinetic bombs as rapidly as I could tolerate. Long gone were the days that I could only manage one before risking passing out.

Even so, I quickly pushed myself toward that risk. Accelerating my pace, I guided the placement of my bombs with the radar, making sure that Mavriste couldn't just dart away from the blasts.

Still piling on my psionic attack too, I varied the gaseous material in the bombs, trying to probe at what types of material might shear Mav's plasma cloak most effectively.

<Oh Caleb, that's not going to work,> he taunted.

He was proving a frustratingly quick learner, and I was chewing through his firewall far slower than I would have liked.

Talk to him, I reminded myself.

He wasn't the only one who liked to play mind games.

<The smart plasma,> I said. <Mac mentioned that Vo was handling it wrong, and the plasma was being 'dragged back into conventional space'…you guys figured out a way to get the plasma to interact with higher dimensions. Or something like it—no. Not higher dimensions… perpendicular ones.>

'Adjust your plasma's perpendicularity'.

Oh that had to be a big piece. I'd opened my mouth intending to get some of the details wrong on purpose, maybe to try distracting Mavriste into correcting me, but I felt like I'd inadvertently stumbled onto a big clue.

Was that how kinetic asymmetry worked?

The laws of nature demanded that all reactions have equal and opposite reactions. Could those reactions be diverted somehow? Shunted into some abstract perpendicular space?

No, stop, don't distract yourself.

Complex questions about the fabric of spacetime were to be discussed later with Jordan.

Still, I felt emboldened when I saw Mavriste display a mix of pride and annoyance.

<You have no idea just how close you are while still being completely incorrect,> he said.

<Maybe that'll be the title of my autobiography,> I said. I squeezed the trigger on my revolver again and again, rematerializing bullets in the spent chambers as I fired.

Between the unceasing bullets and the kinetic bombs, I was connecting more attacks on Mav's plasma cloak, but nothing had made it through yet. The more I pressured it, the slower it was to reform.

But Mavriste wasn't sweating just yet; he was still talking.

<Understanding perpendicularity is just one very small part. Finishing your Realization isn't just about gaining the knowledge,> he said. <You have to know how to use it too, practice and refine what you've learned how to make. You're not going to accomplish some breakthrough just by experimenting with the materials on the fly like this.>

Ah.

He was either misdirecting me, or he'd slightly misread my desperation.

<I'm not trying to finish Realizing,> I said, catching a particularly good kinetic bomb on him. It gave me the opening to make a leap in progress on the psionic front, deflecting one of his counterattacks and blowing a wide hole in his firewall.

Simulacrum-Macoru flickered into view as his psionics became less obscured.

<He's getting more accurate—> she was in the middle of saying. She noticed I could hear her and switched to a language I didn't recognize. As carefully as I was observing them, they were watching me equally closely. I was breathing so hard, I had to be glad the conversation was taking place telepathically. My air mask covered up a lot of my face and emotions too.

Deception. All war is deception.

<Mac there can tell you what Nai said,> I panted. <But she must have misunderstood. When Nai asked you not to give me any spoilers about realizing, she was just trying to help me. So I get the most out of the Realization at some point in the future.>

One of the bomb variations yielded new feedback that opened new options, and I materialized a glass sphere filled with a special oil in response.

<You don't think you're going to need the most of it right now?> Mav asked.

<Hate to tell you, Mav, Nai's a harsh teacher. She meant that I can afford to Realize later.>

In the kind of madness that could only unfold in battle, I materialized a plastic tennis ball throwing toy for dogs and used it to hurl my glass sphere right into Mavriste's chest.

He squeezed the trigger on his shotgun and blasted a slug at the edge of my shield, shattering part of it and deflecting off my shoulder guard. My arm screamed at me, but my aim was good.

The glass sphere exploded and splattered the oil all over him, soaking into his plasma where it hardened in a flash. Like cement, the plasma contracted and solidified, gluing him in place for a brief moment and shrinking back the cloak's coverage.

I seized the moment and gambled on an attack I hadn't shown him yet. A sliver of metal materialized above his shoulder giving off a jet of air to blast itself into his shoulder.

Half-a-dozen more rocket knives lanced toward his head, but only the first one bit deep. All the rest only scratched him, leaving shallow wounds or deflecting off at strange angles as he pulled his plasma back in place to cover himself.

Dark Vorak blood leaked out of the first wound, color-shifted but still brightly visible inside the plasma.

<She meant…> I said darkly, <she doesn't think I need to Realize at all to keep up with the likes of you.>