The Murder of Elrod Jameson

Lilium sat waiting- -or, rather, Morgana sat waiting with Lilium at her side. The pair of them- -a pony containing both their consciousnesses, and a hologram generated by that body- -sat at the edge of a large pool. It was surrounded by the looming, dilapidated buildings that made up the residences of Level C, as if they had been hastily constructed around this water- -or as if it had formed here and partially forced the buildings back.

The water was fetid and disgusting. As far as Lilium could tell, it was a cesspool of some kind. Drainage water had started to collect here, possibly long ago, and more pipes had been built to link to it. Whatever streams had once filled it had long-since been replaced by rusted tubes and pipes that belched water into it or pulled liquid out. At its edges were piles of trash flotsam and thick levels of dried sludge, as well as the remains of listing, broken buildings that had been consumed as the pool had grown.

It was a horrible, toxic lake of opaque waste and disease. It disgusted Lilium, even though she had no sense of smell. Yet Morgana was intent on it. Lilium knew why.

As they watched, something suddenly stirred on the surface. Lilium shuddered when she saw a snake-like creature slither across the surface. Looking at it more closely revealed that it was far worse than any snake: it was in fact a metallic spider, its legs tilted and moving in unison in a serpentine pattern. It starrd forward with a single three-lobed eye, and it was dragging a dying and nearly drowned genet behind it. Based on its path, it seemed to be headed toward a group of similar machine-spiders standing on the bank, most of which were going through the trash to pull out any resources of potential value- -or dissecting animals for living tissue or anything electronic they might have eaten.

“What the…”

“Harvester spiders. They won’t hurt us. There’s not enough of them right now.”

Lilium’s brow furrowed, and she looked back to the spiders- -only to have her attention suddenly turned toward the water. The only ripples near the center had been from the spider and its living pray, but in the darkness a thin hand with narrow, discolored fingers reached up and took hold of the genet. It did not struggle much as it was dragged under the water, the spider along with it. After a few moments, the spider pulled its way back to the surface and made its escape; the genet did not surface again.

The water was still for a moment, save for the dispersing ripples and the areas where new human waste was being dumped into it. Then the center of the water shifted, and a head emerged. The figure standing in the sewage and filth walked forward toward the shore. As the rest of his body emerged, Lilium felt whatever imagined breath she had hitch. He did not look human in the slightest. His body was horrendously thin, but also small, nearly the size of a child. The skin on his face had been pulled back, but not against bones. There were no bones. The only features were a mouth, and two empty eye sockets.

He came to the shore and stopped, standing ankle-deep in sludge. Morgana looked up at him.

“Elrod,” she said.

“I’m here,” he said. “Hold…hold on.” His eyes squinted closed, and he seemed to expend a tremendous effort as his face shifted, rendering something at least marginally similar to what he had once looked like. At the same time, he managed to partially produce something that resembled clothing from the brown, scaly skin that covered his body. “Damn,” he said, sighing loudly. “I can’t do any more. Not right now. I need more time.”

“We don’t have more time.”

“I know. This water is rich in nutrients, but to impure. It would take me weeks to regrow my entire body at this rate. Unless you have more...” He lifted his hand. He was holding something made of fur and blood with very little meat left on it.

“No. It will have to do. Just try to look as human as possible.”

“I don’t look human?”

“You look fine,” lied Lilium. Elrod frowned, but then smiled. He apparently believed her.

“Right. Not that it matters.” Morgana stood up. “If we’re done here, Hoig should be ready.”

The three of them left the cesspool and the harvester spiders and proceeded down the narrow alleys that connected it to the rest of the residential area. The whole region was damp and excessively hot, with oppressive silence throughout. Few people were about, but there were some. A pair of hooded humans were walking in the opposite direction, fishing poles in hand. A drug junkie was lurching down the same path, his body leaving a trail of blood and necrotic organs as his cybernetics drove him forward. Up above, a pale pony with a half-constructed head stared down at them from a window without blinking. If any of them paid any attention to the passing group, it was not to Elrod- -to them, nothing more than yet another deformed human- -but to the pony with the expensive body and the glowing hologram beside her.

“I don’t like this place,” said Lilium.

“You’re not supposed to.”

The alley descended a decayed staircase and led back out into the main road. Lilium followed it past Hoig’s door and around the corner, to where he had opened a larger door. Pale light flowed outward into the dark pathway that led by it. Distorted, static-filled music was emanating from the room, as well as the sound of arguing.

“Hoig,” said Morgana as she entered the room. “I didn’t know you could even get PLR down here.”

Hoig stopped arguing with Forth and turned his head toward Morgana. He gave a weak smile. Despite being a strange, bipedal pig-creature, Lilium could see a horrible sadness about him. It looked like he had not slept in months.

“Yes. Can,” he said. “Signal, bad. Not good. But signal.” He put his hand on an old, paint-spattered radio unit. “This sound, re-transmit. Sometimes old. But good.” He sighed. “Hoig remembers…when she was shoat, would listen to old-music with Jen-fer.” The sadness that surrounded him seemed to expand substantially. He closed his eyes, then stood up sharply. He looked at Elrod. “You,” he said. “You are not human.”

“No,” said Elrod. “But you knew that.”

“Yes. Did.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Hoig is not human also. Neither are ponies. Bigger problem is the smell. You smell bad. Very.” He picked up a hose and threw the end at Elrod. “Here.”

Elrod began to spray himself with water that was only marginally clearer than the sewer water he had just been feeding on. Morgana ignored him, instead approaching Hoig. He was standing between Forth and a large exoskeleton suit that had been hanging on the rear of his storage room. It seemed to have been in disrepair, but several packs of tools had been opened and repairs had very clearly been made. He was getting it ready for use.

“Is this almost done?” asked Morgana.

“It is done. Hoig has maintained, out of habit. But not so much recent. Was forgetting.” He looked back at the suit almost wistfully. “Had hoped not to use again. But if what you say is true, will use one more time.”

“And why were you arguing with Forth?”

“She insist- -”

“My specifications,” interrupted Forth. “He insisted I wear a suit too. But I don’t need it. My body follows or exceeds military specifications.”

“She has a point.”

Hoig sighed. “The Depths, there are many dangers there. Collapse. Falls. Corrosives, disease, radiation. Technovores. And other Delvers. It is not safe. You understand?”

“I do. Her body can survive it.”

“Fine.” Hoig pointed one of his hoof-like fingers at Lilium. “Then she wears the suit.”

Lilium protested. “My body was designed to be durable as well. For extreme conditions- -”

“The Librarian bodies are designed for terrestrial exploration,” said Morgana.

“You not understand,” said Hoig. “Depths, they are not like other things. Not up above. More dangerous. More dangerous than anything. Bad things there. Very bad things. Some with no names.”

He walked over to one of the shelves full of various strange technology and pulled down a folded, armor-plated semi-exoskeleton. It was dusty and badly stained, but Lilium instantly knew that it would fit her. “This will protect you,” said Hoig, opening it and setting it on the floor. “Not much, but enough. Hopefully.”

“And me?” said Elrod.

Hoig pointed toward a rack of similar human-shaped suits. They were not nearly advanced as the one he owned for himself, but Lilium supposed they did not have to be. He was the Delver; they were just cargo, or passengers that he would formerly have been paid to guide to their probable deaths.

Morgana contemplated his Delver suit. “Do you have a cybernetic uplink in this?”

“Has interface. No cyber-net-ic. To Hoig, a waste. Of time, and money. Body is old, but do not need machines to walk yet. It will work.”

“If you say so.” Morgana looked at the helmet lying on the floor. To Lilium, her behavior was absurd; she did not see through her holographic eyes, but rather through Lilium's. There was no need for her to get close to things or even turn her head. “I can project myself as an overlay. So I don’t need this damn hologram.”

“A body would be better,” said Elrod. He was dripping wet, but apparently somewhat cleaner.

“We don’t have time for that.”

“In this case, fewer is better,” said Hoig. “In some ways.” He shrugged. “Two killed if one dies. But one less to attract bullets.”

“Bullets?” asked Elrod, suddenly confused.

“Human-words hard speaking. But Hoig knows what said.” He grunted, and tilted his entire body toward Morgana’s hologram. “Now. Tell me where we go.”

Morgana nodded and held out her hoof. An abstract shape appeared over it, representing the coordinates. Hoig bent down and squinted at it; as he did so, he removed a pair of bent reading glasses that were clearly sized for a human rather than a porc. He looked through one lens a the holograms, and then nodded. “Let’s see.”

Hoig stood and lumbered to the next room. Instead of going into his apartment proper, though, he passed through a thin door and into an offshoot room from the garage. Lilium followed, and when Hoig turned on the light she found herself in what was really just a space between the rear wall of the building and the first wall of the garage. It was thin and cramped, but despite its size it had been converted into a kind of office. The walls were covered in rusted filing cabinets and many hand-drawn, wall-sized maps.

“What is this?” asked Lilium in awe.

“Maps,” said Morgana. “I do enjoy a good map.”

“Few have seen this,” said Hoig. “Normally, would not let.”

“Why?”

“Because Delvers are extremely competitive,” suggested Morgana. “Maps like this…Hoig, you must have been doing this a long time…”

“Animal-folk have short life. Most of mine, down there. Best years not.”

He reached into a drawer and opened it, pulling out several additional maps and some pencils. He began to spread them out and type something into a large, battered calculator. His eyes then narrowed, and he consulted several other maps that lined the walls before pausing, and pushing back a rack of several framed maps before removing one that was heavily annotated in primitive script with a red pen.

Hoig picked it up and set it on the desk before shuffling through a few more maps, as if to confirm that he was absolutely right before speaking. Then he sat down in a small chair and shook his head.

“What?” asked Morgana.

“This…this is very much bad.”

“You can’t find the coordinates?”

Hoig looked up. His pig-like eyes were wide. “No, no. Can find. Found. Here.” He pointed in the center of a large map. To Lilium, it was entirely incomprehensible.

“So you’ve been there.”

Hoig shook his head vehemently. “No. No one has. Not that came back. Is Yag-Dra-Sil. Bad, bad place.”

“Yggdrasil,” whispered Lilium.

“It’s the Norse world-tree,” said Morgana.

“I know that,” snapped Lilium. “But why is it called that?”

Hoig pointed to a different part of the map. “Because has branches. And roots, so is said. But roots deeper than anyone got yet.” His hoof-like hand moved to the bottom of the map, and beyond it.

“But what is there?” demanded Morgana.

“Area unstable. And technovores. Many. And…”

“And what?”

Hoig shook his head again. “Hoig does not know. Many stories, many legends. Many bad things in the Depths. Things no one has seen. Things no one SHOULD. Guess? Air is poison. Rads, or deep pollution. Have seen. Have lost friends to similar. Must be great much large for Yag-Dra-Sil.”

“Can you get us there?”

Hoig’s eyes went wide, and he took a deep breath. “No. Cannot. But will try. And Hoig will die. So will you.”

“Wait,” said Lilium. “You’d do that, even knowing you’d die?”

“Jen-fer is dead. Hoig…” He lowered his head. “…it better this way. To let claim. If can find her…or those that make her dead…but if not…”

Lilium inhaled sharply. “You…you want to die.”

“Have thought. Think every day. Can’t…no point. No point anymore. Daughter, dead. Nothing left. Nothing…” He stood. “But. If this can find, will risk. But only if you know risk too.”

“I know it,” said Morgana.

“But it’s not your body your risking,” said Lilium. Morgana turned toward her. “Stop doing that! Don’t try to intimidate me!”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you looking at me? You can’t see me. You’re already here. Do I even have a choice?”

“Of course you do.”

“Do I? Or will you just take control of my body again.”

“I did that to save your life.”

“That’s a lie. I can tell, because it’s the same one I would tell. You still need me for something. You claim to be responsible for my safety, and then you want me to go on a suicide mission.”

“Fine. I can transfer to Forth.”

“No, you can’t. Her processor is barely big enough to hold her, and she’s a reduced-scale consciousness. I know because you know that. You need ME.”

“And if you die, so do I.”

“So?”

“You know me better than almost anyone else in the world.”

Lilium’s eyes narrowed. “And the only one you really care about is you…”

Morgana nodded. “They wouldn’t have summoned us if it weren’t possible to get there. There’s a way. Forth got out, didn’t she?”

“But she doesn’t remember the Depths. She has no idea- -”

“She doesn’t need to. That’s my job. We WILL get there. After everything they did? They won’t risk us failing. If we die, it will be when they give us permission to.”

Lilium fell silent. Logically, she knew that Morgana was correct. She still felt angry, perhaps even unreasonably so. This whole time, she had just been led and used- -never once had she been given a real choice. She could see that now, and it was torture.

In the end, they departed as a unit. Hoig led them, looming over them and anyone passing in his nearly antiquated Delver exoskeleton. Lilium and Elrod had been outfitted with their respective suits. It had turned out to be a detriment to Lilium, as the suit’s camera interface was far inferior to her own eyes. For Elrod, though, the suit proved more beneficial; he was able to appear more substantial and overall more human with something covering his otherwise exceptionally thin regenerating body.

Forth, likewise, had been convinced to wear some amount of armor. Although much more of her body was exposed, several plates of faded but light plastic armor had been fixed over what she already had. This did not seem to displease her, and in fact it looked oddly appropriate in Liliuim’s opinion. The only one among them that wore no armor was Morgana; she appeared as a digital projection into their respective cameras or optical sensors. Having been reduced to an abstract being, armor was of no use to her.

They did not need to go far to reach their destination. Level C itself, after all, was technically part of the Depths: it was level with them, delineated only by a reinforced wall that had once made up the casing of a massive mining operation into the landfill below. Only the upper levels of what had come to fill that hole were habitable; where or if the drilling machinery remained somewhere deep below was not known

Hoig knew the way. It was clear that it was a path he had walked hundreds if not thousands of times before. As he led them out of the residential districts, the area became more vibrant- -if only in a relative sense. It was familiar to Elrod; SteelPoint City served a similar role in a distant part of Bridgeport. It was an area where Delvers collected, preparing for their journeys, selling what they found, or spending the profits from their ventures on alcohol, prostitutes, cybernetics, and heavy weapons. This area was similar, but also different in its own right. The Delvers here were not ones who came from great distances for adventure or profit; they were the dwellers of Level C, who had no other way to make their living.

Machines and transports hummed, and trading stations had been established, but it all took a more somber tone. There was none of the vibrant energy that came from adventurers who risked their lives every day for rich elemental scores. Instead, there were only dreary transactions as scrap was appraised and shipped away while fractional vod were paid out.

Even the entrances themselves were bleak. The one Hoig had chosen was a long, downward-sloping concrete ramp that led to a square, stained concrete arch. Beyond it lay the Depths, and several signs in Georgian and isographic script warned of it. One especially cliché graffiti artist had defaced one, writing instead “abandon hope all ye who enter here”. Another had adjusted that statement further, replacing “hope” with “yer ballz” and inserting “don’t” between “ye” and “who”. Lilium found the false bravado almost as pleasant as she found the use of the non-word “ye” in a sentence.

A few individuals were in the process of exiting the gap. The first among them was a massive man, his body overwhelmingly altered by hormonal reconfiguration and semi-implanted power-armor- -power armor with a large handle placed on one of the shoulders. Lilium wondered what that was for, until she saw what he was dragging. His disproportionate arms nearly reached to the ground, and he was pulling a man in identical armor behind him- -or at least what was left of him. One arm had been torn entirely off, and the legs were gone. Entrails and part of a spinal column trailed behind, adding one more red streak to the already stained ground. The deceased was covered in harvester spiders that were already pulling him apart.

Farther below, a medium-sized pack of sobakans were gathering, with one barking orders to the others in an abbreviated version of Standard Language. As they were assembling, another Delver passed. This one was only slightly taller than a human, but his suit was far wider. The legs and arms of it were completely robotic. On his back was an enormous pack, and across that several equally enormous firearms.

The wide Delver passed the sobakans, and as he did, his optical receptors focused on Hoig. Almost immediately, he raised a hand.

“Malo!” he yelled, nearly laughing as he did so. He then rushed forward with disturbing speed. When he approached Hoig, he spread his arms wide. “Shemch am kaki sank! I would recognize that suit anywhere! Hoig, is that you?” The Delver leaned forward, and the front of his suit split. It separated, revealing a small cockpit. Inside was a middle-aged human; he was deathly pale and thin, with long unwashed blond hair. He apparently had no arms; the stumps were linked directly to his suit.

“Jason,” said Hoig. He laughed, and although it was soft it was sincere and sounded oddly human. “You still do the work.”

“Forget me! You’re HOIG! You- -have you finally come back to the business? I haven’t seen you in years!” He looked over his shoulder, and his suit amplified his voice substantially. “Bella! BELLA! You’ll never guess who’s here!”

The leader of the sobakans looked up, her floppy ears perking at the sound of her name. She approached as well with long, loping steps that seemed oddly relaxed. Based on Lilium’s assessment, she seemed to be a derivative of a sighthound of some sort; her face was long and thin. Like the others of her kind, she wore no mask; unlike them, though, she wore no helmet whatsoever. The lack of it only served to highlight the fact that her face was disfigured heavily with the scars from a crude surgery that had replaced her eyes with highly reflective metal spheres.

“Huh?” Her eyes turned to Hoig. “No. Such is not possible.”

“I don’t remember you,” said Hoig.

“She’s from the West Side,” explained Jason. “Neli’s sister. She took over after what happened to Vlax.”

“Vlax,” said Hoigh. “He was claimed?”

Jason winced. “Yeah. Collapse got him. Pinned him and took out his respirator.”

“Did they…”

Jason nodded. “Of course they did. You can’t come back from that. It was worth the bullet. Fuck.” He was silent for a moment. Then he smiled again. “So,” he said, “you’re back.” He suddenly looked concerned. “Why aren’t you wearing your guild colors?”

Hoig shook his head under his helmet and mask. “Because I have no right. Left. Retired.”

“But you’re back now. And if anyone deserves them, it’s you!”

“Flatter. That is what you do. Not true, not true. And not back. One last trip.” He gestured toward Lilium, Forth, and Elrod, and explained with one word. “Tour.”

“Damn it, Hoig! You come out of retirement and STILL get the high-paying work!”

“I will charge half what he pays,” said Bella. “I undercut, if you use my team.”

“Dude! You don’t try to undercut Hoig!”

Bella crossed her arms. “Offer stands.”

“No thank you,” said Lilium.

Bella threw one hand up in the air and rolled her eyes dismissively. Jason laughed. “Told you.”

“Jason,” said Hoig. “I have been gone. Long time. Are there changes?”

“You mean in the guild, or in…”

“In Depths.”

Jason frowned. Bella’s canine face displayed less emotion, but even with mechanical eyes and a narrow sighthound face she still betrayed some level of discomfort.

“Yeah,” said Jason. “Freaky-ass shit’s happening.”

“That’s my favorite kind of shit,” whispered Forth.

Hoig ignored her. “What sort?”

“Don’t know. Hard to say. Weird stuff moving.”

“Moving?”

Jason nodded. “Guys saying they say machines going by. Flying ones. And I’ve never seen a technovore that can fly. Don’t know if I believe it, but the natives are restless. The vampires are going crazy. It’s bad. Real bad.”

“My team has seen things,” agreed Bella. “We sense more than humans. Some say they see ghosts. Or creatures that are not monsters. They are…” She struggled for a word. “Smarter. Things that watch. Waiting. The whole place is waiting.”

“Exactly! That’s exactly it! Fucking things shifting, whole sections clearing out or getting moved, all of that isn’t shit compared to that feeling. Like something’s watching you.”

“Something always is,” said Hoig.

“No, not something. IT. The Depths. That something’s down there that we haven’t seen before, but it doesn’t want to be seen.”

“It doesn’t impede work,” said Bella. “But I don’t like it. We don’t like it. And not just here. I felt it on the West Side too.”

Morgana stepped forward, making herself visible to the pair. “Does it have anything with what you call Yggdrasil?”

Jason went pale, and Bella yipped involuntarily at the sound of its name. They both looked at Hoig.

“Hoig. You aren’t.”

“One last trip.”

“Oh fuck. I mean, you’re a legend…but do you really want to go out like that?”

“Someone waits,” said Hoig. “I think…I think my daughter.”

“If you mean in piggy heaven, sure.”

Bella put her hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Leave him be. I had puppies once. Drowned them, but understand the feeling.”

Jason did not seem to accept that. “Come on, Hoig, please don’t.”

“Would you stop me?”

Jason stared at him, and then after a long moment chuckled. “No,” he admitted. “Damn. You’re crazy. But I guess you don’t get to be the best in this job by being sane. Don’t end up like Vlax, okay?”

Hoig just shrugged. Jason put his hand on Hoig’s shoulder, and then walked past him. Bella saluted, and then turned back to her pack, now literally barking at them to get them back in line as they tried to haul out most of an ancient-looking automobile chassis.

“Friend of yours?” asked Morgana, despite already knowing the answer.

Hoig sighed as he started walking once more. “Someone. Of the guild.”

“I didn’t even know the guild still existed,” said Elrod.

“It grows weak. Alive but dying. An old thing. Like me. The past.”