Chapter 52

SUB.02 “Look at this freak show.” Schall Berylan’s voice was full of contempt. A tall white man in his mid-twenties, he wasn’t a contestant in Natural Selector himself. Even being mistaken for one would have made him want to throw up. No, he was a security guard dispatched here to Baggage City by the twenty-seven companies that had broken off from Academy City and were now calling themselves the Anti–Academy City Science Guardians. This was just a part-time job—one that came with a bulletproof vest, a carbine, and a few hand grenades. “Did you hear? It’s not just UFO crazies—it’s also people who are obsessed with Atlantis and forever-alone types who keep talking about bacteria we found on Mars or whatever. The kind of nutcases who trample other people’s wheat fields and make weird noises at the night sky. Why ask them for advice? I just hope they’re not planning some kind of mass suicide.” Several other security guards were here with him, all decked out like he was. They were on the interior perimeter of the domed facility housing for the competition, at gate number 17. The security detail would have normally been stationed outside the dome, but unfortunately, it was a white, negative-twenty-degree hellscape out there. There were unmanned drone weapons outside anyway; nobody would want to venture out unprepared. The execs’ brains must have been baked by their heaters and fireplaces, as they’d forgotten the simple fact that human body fluids froze at zero degrees Celsius. One of Schall’s coworkers, who was also slacking on keeping watch, looked around nervously. “But the psychic powers they’ve got at Academy City are just as freaky, right? The only difference is whether you can see ’em or not.” “Basically, these people are all like skunks,” said Schall. “They don’t want to fight. Or get involved. They don’t want enemies or allies. Poke ’em, and they spray their stench everywhere. Beat ’em in a fight, and you still won’t be happy.” Just then they heard the sound of a suitcase rolling along on small wheels. The venue didn’t have enough fluorescent lights for a building of its size, so patches of darkness dotted the hallway. And from the other side of the passage emerged a very attractive woman. “Where’s the waiting room?” she asked. “Farther down this hallway, Contestant Opendays. You’ll see another security guard—that’s the one you want.” “Thanks. I’ll ask them,” said the woman before she whispered in his ear, “And this hallway is like a tunnel. I’d be careful—voices carry far.” A few beads of sweat formed on Schall’s back. Nervously, he turned around, but the Opendays woman had already gone farther down the hallway. “Fucking skunk,” he swore. “Bet she heard that, too. Anyway, I’m surprised you remembered the name of a contestant.” “She’s one of the relatively sane ones,” he muttered in reply. “Hey, let’s go somewhere else. We’re in the way of the freak parade. We stay here and some pajama fortune teller or bandaged-up blood-type diviner is bound to accost us.” “Let’s find a vending machine with some coffee in it. God, is the heat here even working?” But just as they all began to move, they heard a squick. It was coming from farther down the dimly lit hallway. They only realized it was a footstep after hearing it several more times, although it was irregular. Without that, they never would have guessed the sound was coming from a human. But it was very strange. The sound itself kept repeating, but it seemed to be coming from multiple sources. They would hear one squick from down the hallway, then others from the walls or the ceiling, and even some that were right in their ears or behind their backs. Schall turned around to check behind him several times, but nobody was ever there. Eventually, a figure appeared in the hallway. The two guards couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman. A rag was hanging over the person’s head, hiding not only their features but also their entire body. Did they actually have two eyes and one mouth? There was no saying for sure. “……, ……” The face under the rag stirred, producing a strange noise. Schall recognized it as something like a voice at least, but he had no idea what language the words were from or the meaning they held. The figure trudged past them, their footsteps echoing off the walls and ceiling. Schall was proud of himself for not immediately aiming his carbine at them. Eventually, they disappeared down the other end of the hallway, just like the Opendays woman, heading in the same direction as her. He (?) was another competitor in the Natural Selector tournament—one of the freaks who had gathered here to fight back against Academy City. Schall’s coworker exhaled suddenly as if he’d just remembered to breathe. “…What was that?” he asked, glancing around. “One of the favorite weirdos to win,” Schall replied, voice full of scorn. “Grecky Reletsman. People say he can use sorcery. Guess he’s gonna pull a rabbit out of a top hat or something.” The martial arts tournament known as Natural Selector would start without delay—once all the freaks had gathered. Unbeknownst to them, however, something had joined the fray—something that not even Academy City could fully manage.