Manifold [An Interstellar Sci-Fi Progression Story with LitRPG Elements]

The churgeon, his face completely obscured by a blue facemask, worked quickly and silently. Betelgeuse could see Thete's face, underneath the churgeon's right armpit. Her expression looked wan and peaceful under the blinding beam that patched around her right cheek.

A cable had been inserted into the base of her head, just beside where her slender neck flared up into her skull, and the mechanical arms sticking out of the churgeon's nape worked frenetically to cut away skin, flesh, and bone, whilst the churgeon's hands were affixed over the cable and slowly easing it out of the cavity that had been carved out of Thete's brain.

Blood and other colorless fluid welled from the opening. The fluids mixed and clung slickly to the churgeon's gloves before falling to the floor in clumps.

The building shuddered around them. Dust and assorted bits of plastic sprinkled down from the ceiling. The churgeon had set up a plastic canvas over his operating area to shelter from the detritus. He'd warned the rest of them back, to prevent, as far as possible, "contamination".

Betelgeuse thought it was pointless, given how much contamination the missile-fire was throwing up in the environment. But then again, he wasn't a churgeon.

"Dr. Piltor," Betelgeuse heard Cacliocos addressing the churgeon, "we've been advised that the terrorists have infiltrated the building. We can't stay here much longer."

"I'm working as fast as I can. If I mess this up and make her a vegetable, there ain't much point taking her out in the first place, yes?" Dr. Piltor shot back. His glinting compound pupils never left his work, so that the only sign that he was talking was his facemask twitching up and down.

Given the circumstances, Cacliocos had ordered a security detail to be set up at both ends of the Rejuvenator-pod-room, one at the Visitation Lobby and one at the opposite end, where the pod-room met a pitch-dark hallway running perpendicular to it. He furnished them with his last few canisters of nitroglycerin (Betelgeuse taking one and keeping it away in his grenade pouch), then informed them that he was "out of containers".

Then, Cacliocos sent Douglas and Voke out with Sergeant Von Fenak and Staff Sergeant Entuban Kanos to guard the Visitation Lobby.

Betelgeuse himself was given charge of the hallway. The hallway itself was lined with closed doors and ran both ways: at one end of it was a stairwell, and at the other was a pair of closed chrome double-doors that belonged to an inoperative elevator.

Betelgeuse watched the section of the hallway ending in the stairwell. Separately, he stationed a group of PDF personnel—the group of Jegorichian soldiers that had been found with Douglas and which were not part of the original company—at the opposite side, instructing them to watch the hallway ending in the elevator.

Then he settled into silent observation. The seconds ticked by slowly.

Eventually, someone jostled up behind him.

'Douglas, probably,' he thought.

To his surprise, a voice that was deep and nasally addressed him.

"I can tell you've been busy," Belekov said, his carbine clicking softly over the dim vibrations beneath their feet.

Betelgeuse glanced at Belekov, scrutinized that pigsnout through the penumbral shadows, then returned his attention to the hallway.

"What gave it away?" Betelgeuse said.

"You're all bloody."

Betelgeuse didn't deign to respond, seeing as it wasn't a question.

"There's something going on between you and Tenzhian. There's something to it…" Belekov trailed off.

Betelgeuse turned to him again.

If he's fishing for information, he'll get nothing from me.

Cacliocos is weak enough to control and manipulate. If Belekov aims to destroy that relationship, I will have to kill him.

In the game of survival, there is no right and wrong.

Only survival itself…

And death.

"I don't really know what to make of it," Belekov said, when Betelgeuse didn't answer.

"Sergeant Belekov, we are all fighting only for our own survival," Betelgeuse began, his voice flat. "The Captain, on the other hand, wants us to survive. If he could sacrifice his life for us, I believe he would. I don't know for sure, but I believe he would. Some part of him can be described as weak, some part of him can be described as strong. He deserves our support."

"... I asked myself, Corporal Sakar, why you identify so much with the Jegorichians. I suppose it's about survival. Tenzhian and Entuban, fools that they are, actually trust you… even let you submit your exosuits to Support coy."

Betelgeuse' heart skipped a beat. The rush of blood sounded loud in his ears.

The blackbox! Does he—

A beam of light shone down through the darkened stairwell at the end of the hallway, so bright it threw up a dim sheen across the whole hallway. Dull, thudding bootsteps increased in volume. It was a single person descending the steps two at a time.

Betelgeuse raised his carbine. The rest of the security detail followed suit, training their weapons onto the small opening, ready to pepper it with bullets the moment Betelgeuse gave the command.

A balding old man came into view, wearing the gray pixel-print of the TAF without the protective vest. Betelgeuse couldn't discern his features in all the darkness, and it remained enshrouded in ghostly shadows despite the bounceback from the old man's highbeam torch.

But threaded into his shoulder epaulet were three gold scepters. It was a TAF-Colonel.

"Colonel, sir!" Betelgeuse called out, lowering his muzzle.

The bald man halted his step, then came forward.

"Identify yourself!"

"PLP Corporal Betelgeuse Sakar!"

"... Sakar?" the old man said, stepping forward. Betelgeuse took to his feet and, indicating for Belekov and the others to lower their weapons, stepped out into the middle of the hallway.

Now that the old man had come closer, Betelgeuse could see that his features were familiar…

"Commander Mzeeka!" he exclaimed. It was the overall Commander of the TAF contingent in Desert, which he'd met some weeks back, before Liberation's Reach. It had been when Marja took him to meet the Mayor and Marshal Grimmersbys.

What was he doing here?

In any case, everyone knew the Commander was a Golden grade. It changed the balance of power dramatically.

"I am he. Status report!" the Commander instructed icily.

"We're a mix. Our commanding field officer is Captain Tenzhian Cacliocos, and he's down that way. We're… currently extracting PLP Sergeant Thete Jutson from the Rejuvenator-pod, with the help of a Dr. Piltor," Betelgeuse said. No point in hiding anything from the Commander.

"Follow me, Sakar. I am commandeering this force," the Commander said, brushing past Betelgeuse. The rest of the security detail made to fall in behind them, but Betelgeuse turned to Sergeant Belekov and said:

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Sergeant, you should watch the hallway. To be safe."

Ignoring the intense glower that had reached across Belekov's face, Betelgeuse turned on his heels and followed the Commander down through the pod-room to where the operation was taking place.

The churgeon had already extracted Thete from the Rejuvenator-pod and was at that moment filling up the hole in her skull with an unknown putty-like substance. It looked similar to the Marmite Betelgeuse' father liked to spread over his morning toast.

The Commander came before Cacliocos, informing the Jegorichian field officer that he was taking command and then immediately launching into a hushed conferral as to the circumstances of the "terroristic intrusion".

It became clear to the Commander that the numbers they were talking about far exceeded their current capacity to defend. "About a Brigade's worth," was Cacliocos' assessment, and the Commander fell into an uneasy silence.

"Dr. Piltor," the Commander said after a moment's thought, addressing the churgeon. "There should be a Power Magnifier in this hospital, for emergency medical use. Where is it located?"

Rising finally from his work, Dr. Piltor removed his gloves and tossed the blood-slick things onto the floor beside. Thete had been fully extracted, and her head was covered over by the Rejuvenator-helmet which Betelgeuse had snagged from downstairs and that Dr. Piltor had ended up using the whole of.

"The hospital has two, I believe. One of them is in the basement, Commander sir," Dr. Piltor said, his compound pupils dilating strangely.

Betelgeuse' eyes were drawn inexplicably to these insectoid orbs; they said that the eyes were the windows into the soul—what kind of soul did Dr. Piltor possess, he wondered.

"But without the main power line intact, you'd have to hook up the backup generator…" Dr. Piltor continued slowly, enunciating his words carefully and monotonously,"... which means all the patients in this hospital—including within the pod-room here—will be left without life-support."

"It would mean their death," Cacliocos breathed.

The Commander exhaled slowly. Not a single shred of emotion had intruded into his demeanor throughout Dr. Piltor's explanation.

"Location of the backup generator?" he asked.

"The basement," Dr. Piltor replied.

So, the same place.

"Dr. Piltor, you will go up to Level 45 and extract the personnel in room #291 from the Rejuvenator-pod. Take my transceiver-address," the Commander said, tapping the screen of his wrist-transceiver to Dr. Piltor's.

"You will do this as fast as possible, and then inform me by ceiver-message. Do you understand?"

"... I do, Commander sir. But I doubt I possess enough physical strength to carry her down at speed," Dr. Piltor returned.

"Captain Cacliocos," the Commander said, turning to address the Jegorichian field officer. Cacliocos' face was starting to fill with dread.

"... You will send your best soldiers to escort Dr. Piltor. Give me their names."

"... Entuban… Von… Misha…" Cacliocos said, almost as if it hurt him to say each name. "... Sakar…"

"Sakar will follow me," the Commander said, turning his sharp gaze toward Betelgeuse. "Those three should be enough."

Nodding with some difficulty, Cacliocos faced down the dark hallway and called urgently for Entuban Kanos, Von Fenak and Misha Kern.

As they rushed over, Betelgeuse observed that Entuban's left arm had been bound up with bandages, and that the wound underneath had left a dark and coagulated patch on that white fabric.

The three were quickly apprised of the situation and then sent with Dr. Piltor up the stairwell which the Commander had descended.

"The rest of us will make for the basement," the Commander said. "Come with me, there's another way down."

Thete's body was left to Voke and Douglas to carry. In the circumstances, they were assigned to the rear guard while Betelgeuse, as the only face familiar to the Commander, was requested to stay within communication distance.

The contingent descended Lent Hospital by a special-access-stairwell. To access the stairwell, they had to exit into the main lobby via the Level 30 Visitation Lobby, and then turn left and follow the concrete siding to the far corner.

The main lobby was suffused with light from the Saltillan lattice-suns. It was coming into late afternoon.

Along the way, the contingent were afforded a high vantage out into Saltilla; as far as they could tell, the General Strike had spread a significant way through the City, so that myriad columns of smoke rose from multiple buildings and apartment-complexes burning in the distance. Several of the closest Saltillan Obelisks—the closest one still several kilometers away from Lent—appeared to be vomiting small fires out of cracked windows.

The contingent eventually came to the special-access-stairwell and found it blocked off by an automated steel door.

The doors swung open when the Commander swiped his transceiver across the terminal. Needless to say, the special-access-stairwell could only be used by those of a high authorization level.

They came into the dark stairwell and descended as quickly as they could. Luckily, the descent was far easier on Betelgeuse' lungs than the ascent.

They were nearing Level 2 when they started to hear loud noises. It sounded like dull pounding, and it alerted them to the attempted breach of the Level 1 entrance to the special-access-stairwell.

"Hurry up! We need to get to the basement before they manage the breach," the Commander called out loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Commander," Betelgeuse sounded through that frantic patter of steps, "once we get to the Power Magnifier, what then?"

"We hook it up to the backup generator. I estimate there should be just enough power for one or two utilizations," the Commander said, quickening his step. "Maybe buy us an escape."

"You will use your blessing?" Betelgeuse said.

Marja had been the spacetime navigator aboard the Vespertilio en route to Desert, which meant the Commander, who had been the other Golden grade on board, should be a gravity-manipulator.

"It's obvious enough," the Commander replied.

Betelgeuse had come to the Level 1 landing; the blacksteel doors that fronted the space were being pounded from the other side by what sounded like a battering ram. Each hit reverberated throughout that enclosed space.

"Commander! It won't hold if they get a drill-rig in!" Cacliocos called from further up.

"We'll set up positions in the basement, Captain. I just need to get to the Power Magnifier," the Commander replied.

The contingent left Level 1 behind them, then passed shortly into a long descent that did not end at any landing for maybe two or three stories' worth of steps.

The special-access-stairwell terminated, finally, at a level corridor. All was dark, save for several fish-eye-bulbs shining dull crimson from the corners of the ceiling.

The Commander and Betelgeuse stepped carefully into the corridor. Cacliocos came next, with the rest of the contingent following close behind. Voke and Douglas came last, bearing Thete's body between them.

Their torchbeams shunted through the air, revealing half-dusted surfaces, metal grilles lining the walls, and metal tables and chairs stacked up and flushed to the walls. As they walked down the hallway, Betelgeuse observed doorless, cuboid rooms to his left and right, some of these rooms stretching further into twisting hallways that spiraled centipede-like into the unknown dark.

They found the Power Magnifier sitting many meters from the exit of the special-access-stairwell. It had been left right in front of an inoperative elevator.

The Power Magnifier itself was an innocuous-looking device, and it reminded Betelgeuse of a large printer, the kind that his father kept in his law firm's office back in Edom-Zeta. The device was a rectangular prism, and several cables threaded out from a hole in its plastic casing. A multitude of antennae stuck out vertically from its top and splayed out like the fronds of a palm tree.

The device had been set onto a trolley.

"Wheel it into the backup-generator room there," the Commander said, after a cursory inspection. "Quickly, while we wait for Dr—"

An immense explosion shook the underground space. Lights flickered pink and crimson abovehead. The contingent erupted into a flurry of movement, as Captain Cacliocos attempted to muster them into a more tactical position.

"—They've gotten in—"

"Fucking 'ell, turn that table over—"

"Sarge! Corner's too small—"

"Captain Cacliocos, hold them!"

"—Belekov! I need defilade over the frontage," Cacliocos roared, covering behind a metal table he had turned on its side. "Gelam! Jollow! Get over here!"

Betelgeuse turned to Voke and Douglas, met their wide-eyed gazes, and indicated for them to get behind a corner and to lay Thete's body in cover.

Then, they flushed against the wall and pushed their carbines out around the corner, aiming at the entrance from which they had come.

They could hear shuffling sounds now coming from the special-access-stairwell, mixing in with a garble of shouted commands.

Betelgeuse glanced around, trying to find out where the Commander had gone. He saw the Commander about ten meters diagonally behind him, ensconced in the door-less backup-generator room and wrangling with a smattering of wires and cables. Betelgeuse could see the old man attempt to fit some of the metal interfaces directly into the base of his neck, then pluck them out and let them fall to the floor, metal-interfaces clacking onto the concrete surface.

"Ready!" Cacliocos called.

An object plinked down the stairwell and then rolled into the space before them. Betelgeuse whipped his head around, tracking the path of the cylindrical device. The others curled up into their various covers and clenched their jaws.

No sooner had Betelgeuse withdrawn into cover than a profusion of sound reverberated throughout the corridor. He leaned out the corner again and saw the entire area starting to fill with thick smoke. The darkness was closing in.

Murky figures were spilling out into the space. With a swift motion, he plucked a nitroglycerine canister from his grenade pouch and lobbed it in a broad arc, then opened fire with his carbine.

The explosion sent a shockwave throughout the hallway, blasting heat and air into his face.

Orange fire, burning flesh, screams of the dying.