The sun starts to set as Travis and I land in the sparsely-populated southern outskirts of Chandonis.
"Hmm…" I survey the city of dreams, twirling a ponytail. "What to do, where to look… oh, I know! Trav, let's make a plan."
"As if we're any good at that, miss kick-first-questions-later," Travis replies. "What's with the shift in ideals? Did Gen 1 get to you that hard?"
"It, ah, just got me thinking," I stammer. "Y-you know, sometimes… winging it might not be the best solution."
"Wow," Travis says.
"What?"
"Oh, don't worry about it. Good for you," he nods. I narrow my eyes, confused. "Anyway, I've got this hunch," he continues. "I doubt A-Tech would let one of their own people go too far. And judging from Chandonis's size, I bet it'll be easier to hide nearby than try to leave the province."
"Um… makes sense, I think," I mutter. "I remember seeing a directory kiosk last time we were here. If she is in this city, maybe we can look her up from there."
"Worth a shot," Travis agrees.
The two of us start sprinting on the walkway towards the city as the daylight continues to fade. Sure, flying would be faster, but it's better not to draw attention when on a mission.
"Hey!"
I look over at the source of the voice: a man wearing grey armor and a face-obscuring helmet has just stepped out of his car. "What do you want?" I ask.
"I'm a patrolman on duty. What are you kids doing here?"
"What's it to you?"
"You've strayed awfully close to the no-man's land. You got a death wish, or is this your idea of fun?"
"We aren't kids," Travis replies. "We can handle ourselves."
"Yeah, we're heading over to look at a directory kiosk in the city," I explain. "We're looking for someone."
"Directories are for places, not people. Unless you know where they live," the patrolman replies.
"Oh." Travis crosses his arms, disappointed. "So much for that idea…"
"Did you guys come from Ridgeside Station?" The patrolman wonders.
"Nah. We're from the badlands," I reply.
"You got here… from the badlands… without a ride?"
"Yeah, we can handle ourselves." Travis gives a derisive look. "And anyway, what're you wandering so far out for?"
"I told you, I'm on duty." The patrolman starts to sound annoyed, but then he suddenly stops and turns away, tapping something on his helmet. Then he turns back to us: "All right, fine. You guys are clear. Just stay on the walkway and you'll be fine. Also, if you're looking for a person, you're better off checking the city recorder."
"Oh? Being helpful all of a sudden?" I raise an eyebrow.
"I'm down. Let's go, Kit," Travis tells me.
I close my eyes, deep in thought. Then something occurs to me. "Yo, Trav. I suddenly don't feel like walking anymore," I say, glaring at the patrolman.
As I suspected, he seems to get the hint. "O-oh. I'll be going, then. Safe travels." He hurriedly returns to his car and drives away.
"Tch… I knew it," I mutter.
"Think he's a spy from A-Tech?" Travis asks.
"Or that other place. Neocon," I recall. "There's no telling how many people have eyes on us right now."
"I've never heard of any no-man's land."
"Hmm…" I raise my wings. "If we see that patrolman again, I'll kick his ribs in."
We fly through the steadily lengthening shadows, soon entering the city proper. We land behind a building, setting foot in ankle-deep mist. Looking further, I realize that the entire city's grounds are covered like this, and the tops of the buildings are slowly being obscured by low, dense clouds as the sunlight fades further. The streetlights' refracted glow only serves to further alienate this environment.
"What the… what's with this fog? It wasn't here last time we visited, was it?" I ask.
"It was. Well, you were up on the skyscraper the first time this happened," Travis recalls. "But yeah, apparently the city fogs up like this every night."
"Strange… it's like a dream."
"Haha! You said the thing!"
"Oh." So this is what they meant.
"At least the ground layer is low tonight." Travis swirls around some mist with his foot. "Last time, it covered all the shorter buildings and we couldn't see two meters in front of us."
"Honestly, what's with this place," I mutter as we continue walking.
There are several people out and about, fading in and out of the haze, going who-knows-where. Some of them have lights on their clothes. Would it be to see or be seen, I wonder? Maybe both.
After a few minutes, we find the city recorder's office. The door is shut and its exterior screen is off. Just our luck…
"Hey… don't look now, but a person's been following us," Travis quietly says. "Big. Male. Dark skin."
"How long?"
"Since we entered downtown."
"What's his deal?"
"No idea. Fight or flight?"
"Hmm…" I subtly check the nearby reflections. Among the shrouded silhouettes bustling about, one hulking figure stands still. "It's kind of crowded. Either option might be trouble," I mutter.
"Remember what Larry said about the people here?"
"Fair… but if our stalker is with the enemy, we'll be outing ourselves to them," I say, "and it… um, might even put the people here in danger if things get hairy. Better safe than sorry, and all that."
"Let's lure him into an alley, then. We'll have an advantage in total darkness, at least."
"Right."
We calmly walk back the way we came, then turn, entering the nearby alley. The area between the buildings is pitch-black except for the red glint of our eyes. If that person follows us here, it'll have my kicks to answer to.
"Ahh… oh no," a timid voice whispers from somewhere. "The demons have arrived."
I quickly scan the area with my night vision. "Someone's here! They moved around the corner," I hiss. "Trav, get–"
SHEEEEN!
A blinding burst of energy knocks both of us back, and I land dazed on my bum. By the time I shake off all the stars, the mystery person is long gone.
"Ugh…" Travis gets up. "Who was that?"
"My informant," a deep voice says. "I don't appreciate you scaring him off."
I spin to face him – it's our stalker!
Before I can react, Travis and I are suddenly pinned to the wall by some kind of gunk that stretches out from the large man's arms: hard like rock, but malleable like clay.
"Gah! Damn you," I grunt. The man holding us is at least two meters tall and built like a tank. Judging from his soft-hard stuff that also coats the top of his bald head and most of his neck, I feel it's safe to assume he can easily tank a kick from me.
Travis tries to struggle. "What… is this stuff?"
"Hmm… the red glow of a demon," the man says. "So she was right."
"What's with you people? We're not demons! Our pupils are naturally red," I protest. "And, and they only glow when we use our night vision! Totally normal, I swear!"
"No human's eyes normally glow like that," the man replies. "In fact, judging from your builds and size…" The man's rock-gunk shifts around. "Are the things on your backs… wings?"
"That's right. We're aeronauts! Gonna kill us? Turn us in to A-Tech? We'll give you hell for it," I yell, trying and failing to break free.
"Hmm… I was there when the SSA launched their intervention fifteen years ago," the man states. "When they swept through Aeton and found the facilities, all evidence related to the biotools had been destroyed with multiple fires."
"Let us go," I insist. "What even is Aeton?"
"It… sounds like a city," Travis mutters.
"So, they kept you alive this whole time, hidden under everyone's radar…" The man seems to be piecing things together. "Somehow, this doesn't surprise me. Of course they wouldn't just give up on it; they invested too much time and money as it was. I suppose, then, since you're out here, this means you escaped."
"Um… yeah," Travis answers. "We're looking for some people. My mom, Atticus."
"I see." The man releases us from his concrete-like grip. I briefly consider going on the attack, but that bulk… well, I've only managed to crack a boulder so far. This man might be too much for us to handle.
"Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend," the man decides as his rock-gunk recedes, compacting into bulky arms. "Shall we form an alliance?"
"Not until you explain yourself," I tell him. "What's with those arms? How do you know about A-Tech? What are you really?"
"Real demanding sort, aren't you… well, whatever," the man shrugs. "I'm an earthmover. You can call me Jim Hanks."
"Is… earthmover some kind of occupation?" I ask.
"You could say that," Jim replies. "It's more like my role. Or perhaps… intended use. I think you kids should be able to relate."
"Oh… you're a biotool," Travis realizes. "What do you think, Kit?"
"If he backstabs us… hmph, never mind," I relent. "I'm Shurikit Lars, and this is Travis Borohon."
"Borohon?" Jim's face turns pensive. "So, your mother is…"
"What, you know something about her?"
"It can't be… It's too good to be true," Jim mumbles.
"Hey! Don't ignore us," Travis yells.
Jim turns to exit the alley. "I think I know exactly what you're looking for. We'll need to head to the Seaburgs."
"The what?"
"Just follow me." He starts walking. Despite his incredible bulk, his footfalls are almost silent. "We'll take the alternate route to avoid suspicion. The sooner we get there, the better."
"Why there, all of a sudden?"
"You'll see. I'm not 100 percent on this, but my hunches are usually right. And I would know for sure if my informant were here."
"Whatever," I scoff. "We thought you'd set us into a trap. Who was that other person anyway?"
"A mage from A-Tech. We'll just have to talk later," he replies.
"Mage? As in magic? You're joshing me! We've lived with A-Tech all our lives and haven't met a single one," I tell him as we emerge back into the street's strangely-lit haze.
Jim raises an eyebrow at us. "Do you know what mages look like?"
"Huh? Umm…" I twirl a ponytail, trying to remember what I'd read that one time. "Don't they have, like, capes and pointy hats and junk?"
"I read somewhere that they can't do spells without a stick," Travis adds. "So they've always got one in their hands."
"Mmhmm. And those battle gauntlets of yours…" Jim points at me, and I flinch. "Do you feel anything when you activate them? Maybe you get a bit drained after fighting with them for a while?"
I narrow my eyes at him, my guard now raised again. "What's that gotta do with anything?"
Jim chuckles, and I relax. "You know, I'm actually impressed," he says.
"What now? You're acting all cryptic," Travis mutters.
"Don't worry about it. The Seaburgs are off the coast to the southeast. Let's get moving," Jim states.
As we walk into the night, I continue talking to Jim, trying to get information out of him. But he keeps giving vague, non-specific answers, or just won't talk about it at all.
A few hours later, the fog is long gone. The city of Chandonis just looks like a white cloud sitting on the ground from this distance. It's so strange…
"Um, hey. How far are we going? Not that I'm suspicious or anything," Travis asks.
"Well, I'm suspicious," I cut in. "We can get there a lot faster if we fly! And before you ask, carrying you will in fact be a cinch. I bet we've carried heavier."
"It's not that." Jim shakes his head. "Just stay with me until we clear the no-man's land."
"Oh, is that where we are now?" Travis starts paying more attention to his surroundings, but it's just a winding path between several tall hills. "What's so bad about this zone anyway? Or are you just screwing with us?"
"The path we're taking has us avoiding all of the autoturrets stationed in the area," Jim says. Finally, some interesting info! "If they see anything that even vaguely resembles a target, they'll unload on it in an instant. See how there are no birds in the sky, no people or vehicles moving about?"
I calmly look around. "Right, right… so, how powerful are these autoturrets?"
"I doubt even you could survive against several dozen gigalasers coming at you from all directions," Jim warns. "And to be frank, I don't need you to go and test that theory. Just stay with me for now."
"Gigalasers, huh," Travis nods. "I've always wanted to dodge one of those."
"Right? Come on, let us aggro just one," I implore him. "Just to see what it's like, you know? It'll be a good learning experience for everyone involved!"
"No and no. I'm not about to become collateral just to satisfy your manic wishes," Jim states.
"Mmmph… fine," I relent. "We'll come back later, I guess. Travis, make a note."
"Are you sure you aren't demons? Just wondering," Jim says mostly to himself.