Chapter 130
After double-checking to make sure the hallway was clear, I made my way to Kinsleys apartment.
Kinsley led us in, Sae trailing behind. In normal circumstances, I would have introduced her to my old teacher. But Estrada was completely focused on the TV, her normal congenial manner nowhere to be found. Instead, she was sitting forward in the recliner, peering at the image with unmitigated focus.
On its own, this wasnt completely out of the ordinary. She often acted this way when a student asked a particularly difficult question. The kindly grandmother qualities disappeared when she called on her full intellect.
Nia, did you suspend the market for the next hour?
Kinsley swiped an invisible screen away. Its done. Put up a down for temporary maintenance, message, so people didnt freak out.
Good. That should ward off at least the initial panic buying.
Cant leave it down for too long. Steinbeck said. He was leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes glued to the TV. If people think their only source of commerce is unreliable, demand will grow exponentially.
I am aware. Estrada snapped. Finally, she seemed to notice us. Her eyes flicked to Sae, then immediately back to the TV. Come in, Matthias and company. The monster is showing its face.
Sae hesitated. She didnt look particularly comfortable, confronted with a new personI could understand why. Kinsley and Iris were both kids, naturally disarming. She sat down on the far end of the loveseat opposite of Estrada.
On the television, the overseer was speaking. He looked much the same as before. His body was perilously thin, with limbs that were little more than twigs, though it was impossible to gauge his actual size. Something about his body language seemed different from before. His pose was the same, but he was drooping somewhat. nove(l)bi(n.)com
And so ends the first transposition. His tone was flatter and more irritable than before. Even with a shortened time limit, most of you performed admirably. Despite some unexpected irregularities.
An image flashed, a barricade of red-and-blue lights surrounding a squad of police and riot shields. Most of them were unrecognizable, though I recognized Yulia, the woman at the Dallas Police Department recruiting table that was talking to Iris at the open-forum. She was near the middle of the huddle.
Hundreds of goblins rushed towards them with clubs and rudimentary swords, while taller variants waited at the back, taking potshots with slings and bows.
It was a bad match up for the goblins. In a formation that looked more like a spartan phalanx than a modern police tactic, Users with pikes, spears, and long swords paired with the police in SWAT gear and riot shields, waiting until the goblins clustered up to the point they were almost immobilized to strike.
A user screamed in rage and rushed at Astrid. Bob darted out from the median and tripped him with a bow before he could attack her shield, driving the end of the bow into the mans head. A bit too hard, as blood trickled from the mans ear.
The camera panned towards the building and began to move towards it. Recognizing the direction it was headed, I held my breath, gripping the handles of my wheelchair tightly. It passed through a blacked out window and into a hallway, where Miles and I were working in tandem to take down the Users in the entryway.
I breathed out quietly as I saw myself, garroting a user. My proportions were off, but more importantly, it looked like I was standing in deep shadow, even thoughconsidering the overhead lightI should have been completely visible. Miles made exactly the impression youd expect. He looked like an action hero from a bygone age, managing to smoothly dodge attacks and put his targets down with the minimal force needed.
The overseer continued on, detailing the achievements and shortcomings of several regions. Eventually, he shifted gears.
Many of you took initiative. Put your lives on the line to protect the ungifted. The Overseer narrated. But there are always cowards.
It cut away from the previous scene and showed a crowded receptacle. A handful of Users in starter gear stood around fear written on their faces, diminishing somewhat as a more proactive group made a deposit and immediately left.
For those of you who chose to do nothing? Who blindly allowed others to carry the weight, ignorant of their toil? Well. Let us state this simply to ensure you understand. Everything youre about to see, is entirely your fault. The overseer pointed towards the camera.
What followed was footage interspersed from region 13 and 17, the regions that had failed to fill their receptacles. Id only caught flashes of the chaos in region 13. Now, viewing it in its entirety made me sick to my stomach. Gangs of people kicked in doors, dragging others out and executing them like livestock.
Its almost too obvious. The way theyre using tragedy to radicalize any remaining bystanders. Estrada said, her voice laden with detached interest.
And exacerbating the tensions between new and experienced Users. I shook my head. Anyone who wasnt a User before the transposition is going to get lumped in with the people who stayed passive, unless they have someone respectable to vouch for them.
Estrada looked away from the carnage on screen, locking eyes with me. This is pure propaganda. A calculated process of creating division among the masses, when division will hurt us most.
Despite trusting her judgement, I hoped she was wrong. Because if Estrada was correct, the overseer still had another avenue to drive that division home.
The footage cutoff mid-scream, eerily silent without the cacophony of background noise. Slowly, the Overseer leaned forward. With the way he was positioned, the jagged smile on his mask was almost crookedly apologetic.
What we are about to show you should not have been allowed to happen. It occurred outside the natural order. It is the natural result of a warning unheeded.
I braced myself for the inevitable, as the blood-red landscape of Region 6 filled the screen.
