With a trembling hand, Till Ingo ied nanomaes into his ruined arm. Relief came immediately, and the blood had clotted. The battle was still raging around them. Five Orais in heavy assault suits came in from the corridor, filling the air with the rapid fire of their autoons. A sixth rushed in with fmethrowers mounted on his arms, the intense fmes scorg the armor of the Horde soldiers.

  The Orais’ onsught was cut short when an attacker burst through the wall of fme and kicked the guard iomach hard enough to crack the pte. A series of shots narrowly missed the guard’s head as he closed in, engulfing himself and his oppo in fmes. Ammunitios exploded; the Horde soldier’s mae gued in his hands, but the giant drew his sword and plu into the Orais chest. Mighty hands grabbed the intruder’s wrist and pulled the bde free, just in time for the Orais to headbutt his oppo, ughing all the way. Strangely, the Horde madman, oblivious to the heat seeping through the cracks in his suit, ughed as well.

  Banshee and Till Ingo ig and stepped ihe small corridor leading to the trol room At the sound of the first emergency, the defense system raised steel ptes to block the entrance, but the woman wearing Piam’s face tore through them as if they were paper.

  Pulsating growths covered the room inside. Red flesh ected every pimple the size of a man’s body, and dark vines spread everywhere. Pools of crimson flesh swallowed whole terminals, and the room’s creio the wall, covered from o toe irange biological material. Both guards and operators had gags around their mouths, but Till Ingo was relieved to see them breathing, even if they were unscious.

  His first step was apanied by a disgusting champ sound, and the reddish substan the ground shuddered. The arterial vines joiogether to form a web on the ceiling, digging into the walls iill Ingo moved on, heading for a siouched terminal on the opposite side of the room auring for Bao stay back.

  “We both know this is a trap,” Ingo said aloud. There was no respohe surrounding vines tio throb. “Based on your as so far, you are not a killer. Let us iate.”

  “I am as many things as my mission requires, Till Ingo,” a voice came from his left, and his aides began their calcutions, trying to locate the unseen spy.

  Human lips appeared on a vine, but a loud series of wet pops and cracks behind Ingo’s back filled him with dread. He spun around just in time to see bones, ligaments, and muscles appearing in an i-looking vine in the er. The top of the vine broke free from the mass of flesh above and whipped, heavily spping Banshee against the jaw. She fell with a crack, dropping the coil gun. The vine y o her, sprouting appehat secured his creation to the floor before a bubbling mass appeared at its ter.

  On an instinct, Ingo fired the searing toxic ray at the upper part of the mass, but his shot missed as the mass spread, creating a hole through which the deadly stream could pass. A hand, then another, formed from the flesh, and soon the woman in the green trench coat rose to her full height a his eyes. A single hair whipped out, slig through the toxi.

  “Now we verse in peace,” she said and noticed his eyes on Banshee. “Your panion is alive. I merely dislocated a few vertebrae. I suggest you do what you came here for while we are speaking. There may not be time for it ter, aher of us desires more needless deaths.”

  Till nodded and proceeded to the terminal, flying his hand over the keyboard. Wary of the malware that overrode most precautions built into Houstad, he didn’t risk establishing a direct link to operate it remotely.

  “Your deeds don’t match your words,” Ingo said coldly.

  “I am deeply sorry about your wound.” The ced a hand on her chest and bowed. “The arras were clear; you were not to be harmed. It was not acc to my pn, and the one responsible will pay. But I reject your implied accusation. None died by my hand. Collective responsibility is a sham, Mr. Ingo, and I am responsible only for what I have itted with my many arms. Every woe that befell Houstad resulted from the as of its citizens.”

  “Keep making excuses,” Ingo halted, trying to summon anti-malrograms. “How should I call you?”

  “Trace.” The woman walked over to the operators and pced a hand owisted leg of ohe limb jerked and straightened.

  “What have you released into the system?” Ingo demanded. He expected to see some unknown device attached to the terminal, but there was a simple USB drive ied into a slot. “I have never seen anything like that.”

  “A self-propagating virus. Your observation matches mine, as I tried to stop it as soon as I noticed the area of effect. It was meant to deliver a message, not risk causing untold devastation,” Trace said dispassionately, healing the trapped wounded. “I assume my allies are unaware of its fun. It differs greatly from their standard malware. A third party involved in our situation, I am certain of it. Mayhap it is even beyond your abilities to stop it now.”

  “How about a bet? If I solve this problem, you will surrender,” the researcher offered, smiling thinly as he discovered a possible approach to tag the system. It was the experimental malware er he kept in his aide, a crude copy of Iternian programs modified with what he had found in the ruins around the globe.

  “I’m afraid it risks promising my mission,” Traswered.

  “Judging by your behavior, you are not in the business of mindless killing,” Ingo stated. He briefly established the e, and his aide released the hunter and shut down, already ied. The cluster in his brain showed unusual activity as they pitied their affected friend. “Riches, knowledge? What are you after?”

  “You, Till Ingo.” Trace checked a guard’s heartbeat and frowned, sending more tentacles into the man’s chest, returning color to his cheeks. “Bio-Tinkers desire the brightest and the smartest to assist in the glorious task of improving human biology, and you should be honored for attrag their attention. As an instrument of their reach, I have been charged with gathering you. Circumstances don’t allow me to take you whole, but the brain will do. Do not worry, ohe Great Mission is pleted, we will reimburse you for sudignity.”

  “Bio-Tinkers, Great Mission” Ingo ughed. “Bollocks! I have seen the reports of hordes of biological horrors used in the anvil of war. Twisted, hapless, created for a single purpose. Vat-grown mutants, unleashed at the snap of your masters’ fingers. There is no greatness in propagating such misery.”

  “None of them are se,” Trace traced an old scar on the man’s face with her finger, leaving perfectly smooth skin behind. “The Oathtakers forced our hands, forced the cve to deny my brothers and sisters sentiend use them as the on fodder.”

  Till Ingo stood with his back to Banshee. He couldn’t see his daring creation, but a whisper reached his eardrums, transmitted at such a low frequency that no one else in the room had a ce to catch it.

  “Ready.”

  Wait. There is much to learn. On my signal. Till Ingo tapped a code on the surface of the terminal, disguising it as a gesture of frustration. It was a nguage they had ied together, a secret they shared. His ears didn’t pick up the soft tapping, but Banshee picked it up loud and clear.

  “Brothers… So you are not human,” Ingo stated.

  “We are the Sed ce, the intermediate liween the present humans and the race.” Traodded and removed her tentacles from the guard, giving the unsan a ge. “I would reend intensive medical checks for your personnel. Dying of heart problems is an embarrassing way to go.”

  “Another idiots seeking to eradicate the human race.” Ingo shook his head, pretending to work oerminal. The hunter program no longer needed his input, but the researcher attempted to buy time to learn more. “’t believe there are so many morons obsessing over it.”

  “Eradicate?” Trace asked, aion of surprise creeping into her voice. “You misuand our iions. Humans are our parents. How could we hate them?” she said passionately. “We do not seek to expedite the death of humanity in any way, shape, or form. We’d rather prefer to live alongside it.”

  “Under yuidance, I trust?” Ingo asked. “What is the angle of your cult, Trace? Do you pn to forcibly evolve every human or something equally wicked?”

  “Your fear is uandable, but entirely mispced,” Trace said. “Bio-Tinkers have no enemies. Nor do the Sed either I nor my brothers and sisters seek to subsume, alter, or trol humanity. We ot say that we love ead every one of you, but by and rge, you are our kin, and I personally want nothing more than to bee a doctor one day. In my own way, I weep over the deaths happening in Houstad.”

  “Why ’t you be a doctor now? Why help the murderers?” Ingo asked bluntly.

  “To collect you,” Trace sighed. “And to obtaiic material from extremely rare humans. The Gilded Horde is ing, hundreds of thousands of them, and unless I take you away, there is a risk of losing your potential to the world. Hate me if you wish, but you ’t deny the y of the Great Mission.” Till Ingo raised his eyebrow, and Trace stepped closer to him. “sider the tragedy of the Old World. Our own history almost ehe Sed ce was meant to lessen that possibility iure. My future siblings will be perfe every way, capable of surviving any ditions, and human at their core. They are the salvation of us all, and your mind will help design them.”

  “Perfe does. There will always be a fw to remove, a biological fun to improve. ’t you see, Trace, that yreat Mission is, by its very definition, unattai is a task without end; all the while you kidnap, kill, and maim for it.” He caught a glimmer of irritation in the woman’s eyes. “You actually agree with me. Curious. You have called yourself an instrument. Do you have free will, Trace?”

  “I have faith that the cve knows better. Certain limits to my freedom are unfortunate precautions for the sake of a better future for all.” The light above fshed, and Trace took a terminal from the pocket that appeared on her arm. “e to the Iigation Bureaus has beeored. How naughty of you to stall for time after I was so cooperative.”

  “Wait,” Till Ingo pleaded, pg a hand oump of his shoulder. “Last question. Were you created using the knowledge of the Old World?”

  “No. The cve had failed to secure data vaults taining the knowledge of the Old World bioteology.” Trace tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “Then you are out of luck,” Till Ingo ughed and sat, leaning against the terminal.

  Trace took a step, and the floor shook. The living ropes ed around Banshee broke, and the woman rose, snapping her ned grabbing her head, f the dislocated vertebrae bato pce.

  “Hey,” she coughed. “Get away from Dad.”

  Bone spikes shot up from the vine closest to Banshee, splinteriimeters away. The bone fragments dropped to the ground. Vines moved, giving birth to smaller arteries; hands ending in cws emerged from the flesh, trying to tear the student apart, while anic ropes would bind her. Banshee’s mouth opened, her lower jaw toug her chest, and Trace hastily carved a hole in her body, spreadiorso wide as she calcuted the presumed line of attack.

  An omnidireal bst of sound liquidated everything around Ba bounced off the walls and joined a sed scream that tore through the throbbing web created by Trace. The agent formed a bone shield in front of her, only to see it shatter and hiss in pain as the third scream spttered her betweewo trapped guards. The iy of the screams from Banshee’s mouth increased, and the anic c on the floor raced into ers and was crushed into tiny spheres.

  But nothing touched Ingo or the captives. Not a single hair fell from their heads.

  Baen frightened him, Till Ingo was willing to admit this much. Where her vat-grown siblings were perfectly normal kids growing up, their you sister was different. As her hands touched the edges of the vat and her head showed from the green waters, she addressed Ravager and the stist in perfeon, g that she had heard everything. There was ihat could be kept from her ears, and she often first gratuted fused students on finally deg to bee a couple. In time, such hearing became a bother, and Till Ingo made her noise suppressors in the shape of jewelry, giving the girl the same hearing as a normal human. She beamed with happiness all day long, testing them, jumping like crazy, screaming that it wasn’t noisy anymore and that her head wasn’t hurting.

  Sound was her on; her vocal cords were capable of amplifying a simple sound to the point of leveling a tank. The a records stated that ‘products’ like her served as spies and assassins. But there was more to it. Ingo experimented with the Glow, trying to uand the meics behind the fact that it was giving powers to the few and ending the many. His results were inclusive; there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the glow’s piving, but it accepted Banshee, and she gained trol of the sound by her. The student wielded it with perfect precision.

  That was what hit Trace. A scalper of thinned and magnified sound caught the woman, ed around her like a cloak, and smmed her against the wall. Trace’s eyes exploded, her fingers snapped, her body tortured and ravaged by the merciless waves of sound. Ingo was about to ask Bao stop when the agent’s finger lengthened and touched the ropes holding a suspended guard.

  Her whole body was sucked into this rope, clothes, and bones. Banshee’s scream hit the wall, but Trace had already reappeared on the ceiling. Her right arm morphed into a thin bone bde nearing Banshee’s head. The point cracked, stopped by a hastily created sonic shield. The tip cracked, stopped by a hastily created shield of sound. A sonic burst bisected Tra two, but a bubbling mass emerged from beh the floor and tried to close in on Banshee’s legs. The student inhaled and screamed.

  The scream shattered the ground and lifted Banshee, saving her from a reddish mass that was trying desperately to g to the boot. Bone shards were shot from the mass, tendrils of hardened muscle unfurled, whipping madly in an attempt to bypass the sphere of sound around the student. Banshee screamed again, uprooting the mass from the ground. It twisted and torted, suspended in the air as unseen pistons pounded on its surface, fttening it.

  “Surrender,” Banshee demanded. Ingo heard no response, but another scream opened a panel on a wall and the mass was thrown against it, filing wildly as the currents of electricity raced through its body, burning the outer skin. “Give it up. Now,” Banshee repeated. Listening to an answer deafened by the tearing and burning of muscles, she nodded and screamed again.

  Covered by extensive burns, its outer shell darkening, the mass slumped to the ground. It gave a single, faint pulsation, trying to ge, and slumped into a pool.

  “Because you didn’t kill when you had the ce, and you never aimed for my vitals,” Banshee said to the bck mass. “You really don’t like killing, do you?” She gave Ingo a worried look. “Dad! How are you?!”

  “Fine, Banshee,” he grumbled, not sure what she was grinning like an idiot about. “Release the prisoners, carefully, please. What happeo Trace?”

  “Incapacitated for a while.” Banshee the dark mass. “But it won’t be for long. Lying is bad, by the way,” she said in the air, gently liberating aor from the ropes. “I hear your capilries growing. you tain her?”

  “I’ll find a way,” Ingo promised wheomping of the approag guards made him realize that they must have been aware of the screams and if the cameras were online during the fight… “Banshee, let me expihing…”

  “Guys!” The insufferable girl waved a hand to the barged in Orais. “Dad and I stopped the baddie; don’t step on her by act; she is our prisoner and still bite. There she is, that heap of shit. Also, I am not a human, was grown in a vat.”

  Till Ingo stopped, ched his fist and prepared to shout the order to stand down.

  “So what?” the leading Orais stumbled. “The fuck am I supposed to do with the st part of that information? You want a medal or something? Help her get the people down and the injured out,” he so his soldiers.

  “If you find my earpiece, it’ll be awesome,” Banshee asked, toug the remaining jewelry on her good ear. “It’s so noisy. People screaming, bones breaking, explosions and guside. It’s rough.” She licked her lips, sweating. “Tough,” she added.

  “Banshee,” Ingo began.

  “I’ll manage, Dad,” she assured him. “Ns. Never drugs.”

  “Find the pretty thing for the girlie!” the Orais in charge told a Normie soldier, reloading his rotating autoon. “As for us,” he told his team. “On the road. Honor the Champion and the Dynast by spilling the blood of their enemies!”