The Price of the Eye
Overcoming post-traumatic stress disorder required tremendous effort, but the pressure and brainwashing built up since childhood weren't about to unravel easily.
Allen stared at Vito with his usual numb expression, and after a long moment, Vito seemed to regain his composure.
"If he's alive, it'd be a miracle. Though I prefer the phrase 'victory of probability' over words like that."
Allen's eyes scanned Vito from head to toe. A thorough check of the magitechwear with his x-ray vision revealed no obvious tracking devices.
Maybe they planted something in the EBI.
Allen beckoned to the rear, and the accompanying box beeped as it rolled closer. While he'd only equipped the leopard guarding the house with combat functions, this box was loaded for all sorts of contingencies.
"Extract."
Beep!
A thick cylinder—a mana bullet launcher—jutted out. As the muzzle swung toward him, Vito's face drained of color.
"Not that. The connection cable."
Beep...
The box let out a sound that somehow conveyed disappointment. Allen pointed to a park bench.
"Lie down there for a bit."
Vito hurried to comply, and Allen plugged the box's cable into the port behind his ear.
A galaxy unfurled in Allen's left eye alone. The star letters filling the input field were proof of how the EBI operated.
Vito, lying there, spoke up.
"Ah, I forgot to drop the firewall."
"Already breached."
"Quick..."
"Someone had already weakened it for me."
Allen swept away a shadowy corner of the galaxy. It brightened, revealing a cluster of hidden star letters.
Those star letters formed a single program—malware, a virus, whatever you called it. The letters making it up couldn't withstand Allen's gaze and vanished in a flash.
"Someone thinned out the firewall and buried a tracking program in there. It's gone now— you're safe."
"Sorry. I was too oblivious and led them right here."
Allen was lost in thought and didn't respond to Vito's apology.
What's the motive? Revenge? Or the eye?
Both made sense. Nearly getting killed by livestock would've boiled his blood to the top, blinding him with rage.
Then there was the eye. The star letter input field was enormous. Bigger fields meant more letters, which meant more functions and raw power.
From that angle, the eye was priceless. It packed high-end x-ray and measurement capabilities worthy of a magitech engineer's prosthetic orb. A single eye might cost more than all the money Allen had scraped together.
Of course, Nobak hadn't finished his research, and the unstable state from the explosion—plus Allen forcing it in—had caused bad sectors.
Absorbing a mana essence stone should fix that. If Nobak's really alive, I can get the full story on what this eye really is.
While Allen mulled it over, Taylor—who'd pieced together the situation—growled.
"Nobak? That senile fucker thinks he can mess with who? Aroma? Don't care what shithole it's tucked in, but they crawled all the way here? Time to spice things up. They think Maze City's a joke?"
"Brother, your word choice is a bit too rough."
"Monk only plays holy when it's convenient. Oh, you didn't hear that, huh?"
Taylor gave a quick rundown of what happened to Allen, and even Shiba's beard quivered.
"Heh, that kind of thing... Guess I'll have to break the precept against killing again."
"You secretly love it."
"No such thing. I'm simply brimming with the desire to discipline wayward brothers. Thinking of Mother Nun meeting you before me stirs a touch of jealousy, that's all."
Taylor twirled a finger by his temple as he eyed Shiba. As the sole normal one here, he felt the burden of herding abnormals like Allen and Shiba.
Taylor turned to Allen, who was staring right at him.
"Forget the cops. They don't touch local gangs—think they'll care about some outside thugs? What's their name? Cartel ain't the real deal."
"Corona."
"Stinks like shit from the name alone."
"Means 'crown' in their tongue. Doesn't suit their filthy work one bit."
An old grudge had followed them all the way here. Time to show them how Maze City handled things.
Allen pulled out his terminal and called Kiri, the info broker and diver. She could dredge up anything buried in the sea of all knowledge.
She picked up right away, sounding free.
"Got a job for you. Can you track some people?"
"Hold on. They came through the south checkpoint, right?"
Vito nodded and gave the exact time.
"Start from seven days ago. Same accents and looks as Vega folk. Corona cartel members who've settled in Aroma."
*
Vito followed Allen back to the warehouse, radiating gloom. Taylor shot him a look.
"Keeping him around?"
"Hard to pass up usable, trustworthy talent walking in the door. Trust score beats skill here."
"Better a bit weak but reliable. What, recruiting him to the party?"
"Nah. Even with friend points, he doesn't measure up."
Vito, who'd overheard, looked up and shuffled to the fridge.
"Still ruthless as ever. Water okay? Why'd you peel the labels? Kek! It's booze."
Taylor eyed him suspiciously as he coughed.
"Hmph."
"Hear me out, no bias. Deep cave dives take over ten days. Deeper means longer trips, warehouse sits empty."
"Hire him as guard and manager?"
"Or magitech repairs to play to his strengths. Better than leaving it vacant."
Vito finally found hidden water amid the holy water and piped up.
"I didn't agree yet."
"Back to Vega then?"
"Nah. Came this far, might as well stay. 'Boss' work?"
"Just like always."
Allen rose from the sofa and headed to the workbench.
"Prep while we wait on Kiri."
"Labyrinth monsters or people—same deal. Shoot 'em, they die; slice 'em, they scatter."
Taylor checked his gear too. They'd just taken out the throne guards, who were human-like underground dwellers. Exploration prep was war prep.
Allen eyed the powersuit propped on the bench. It loomed tall enough to crane his neck.
Underground dwellers averaged heights like the current 2.2-meter male orcs. The throne-guarding elite were especially massive, so scaling the suit to match had bulked it up.
Wearing it as-is posed issues for Allen, so he was shrinking the frame and outer armor while leaving the mana fusion furnace and artificial muscles intact.
Modern metalworking was top-notch, fitting his specs perfectly.
Allen ran his hands over the suit, shaped like a dissected human body.
"Wearing this, I'd hit about 2.3 meters."
"Shaved off nearly a meter. No issues?"
"Thicker mana circuits compensate for the shorter length—instant output's even better."
"Could cart it around like a wagon."
"Got options in mind. We'll figure transport later."
No firm plan yet. Suit wasn't done anyway—too early.
Allen fitted the roughly finished left arm. Weight balance was awful, but the exoskeleton held.
He waddled penguin-style out of the warehouse to the lot stacked with concrete bricks.
Vito followed and spoke up.
"If Nobak's really alive and sent them after us, what's the plan?"
"Eliminate him, obviously."
Vito sensed the gulf as Allen answered casually. Not even a year, and Allen's skills and mindset had lapped him. Impressive. Enviable. Jealous-making.
Sudden pain shattered his thoughts.
"Ow, sting! What the—?"
Concrete shards peppered him. He ducked and looked at Allen.
"What's going on?"
"You nodded when I asked if you were ready."
"Was lost in thought."
"Want another demo?"
Only then did Vito notice the pulverized brick. He nodded and hid behind Allen to avoid repeats.
Allen thrust the powersuit's left hand forward. A barrel emerged from the forearm. Mana cables thrummed, and a blue mana orb shot from the muzzle.
Boom!
Bricks shattered, shards flying everywhere.
"That's packing heat. What runes?"
"Circuit magic too."
"Hold up—you handle star letters, and circuit magic on top?"
Rune letters, star letters, circuit magic.
Stuff that'd tax three people studying separately, all by one man. Silent, the mature-looking Taylor. The solemn, sturdy Shiba.
Vito felt like finding shade in scorching sun.
"Good call running here. But Allen, you're rear support, right? Need the powersuit? Spy flicks say crisis smarts come from your own body."
"Quit the spy movies—watch some powersuit docs. And if you've got a powersuit, normal to wanna suit up, yeah?"
"Mind if I try it on?"
"Absolutely not."
Vito slumped against the warehouse wall. Still, he watched Allen's tests with sparkling eyes.
End
Seven days later, requesting Corona cartel info from Kiri.
"Got it."
He knew her place, but constant visits were a hassle. Eastern Town's security sucked already—no need spreading rumors about a diver living there.
"Yeah."
Kiri's words cut off just as Taylor's eyes glowed blue—receiving the data.
Vito whispered quietly.
"Seven million? Burning that on a job? A mil a day—that's prime talent."
"Diver rates vary by skill. Kiri's solid. Brain overload means downtime—fair price."
"Maybe I should dive instead of magitech?"
The sea of all things was info's ocean. But like polluted water, data corrupted, deadly to the brain.
The dark side hidden in EBI convenience. Normals rarely worried, but divers peeled back virtual veneers to abyss depths—constant vigilance required.
"Not just pollution—watch for sharks hunting divers."
"Sharks I get. Folks who prey on divers?"
"Yeah. Divers hoard good intel, stack cash chips by trade. Perfect prey. Cops? They'd nab you first."
"Fair. Cops love raiding databases for stats. Stick to magitech then."
Kiri's voice chimed in, signaling the transfer's end. Taylor rubbed his eyes and sank onto the sofa.
"Let's move."
Artificial Eye