Anthology - SHADOWRUN - Spells and Chrome

Alana, an experienced diver, was having trouble with her trim and the only reason for that was…

"Alana." Each breath was harder and harder, but now he knew why. Cursed himself for not having thought of it before. Wondered if the same force that had fooled their senses also clouded his judgment. "Alana, honey, I need you to come over here."

"What?" Her labored breathing rasped in his ears. She sounded dazed. Her face shone with sweat.

"Alana, it's an illusion. This whole time… we've been… running out of air." Now that he knew for sure, he could sense the seconds ticking off his life. "Your buoyancy… " He gulped down another thin lungful. "Headache…"

"Carbon dioxide." He heard the sudden fear in her voice. "But… but Lee…"

"Alana, look at him." He swallowed, slicked his lips. "No bubbles. He's got no air… "

"Oh my God." Her voice quaked with terror. "Lee? LEE?"

"No." With a huge effort, he kicked, closed the distance between them and wrapped a hand around her bicep. "Stay away, just… Ah, God."

He saw now that Harriman's suit was in tatters; half his chest was gone and a chunk of his left thigh; his facemask was shattered, open to the water. A yellow stalk of nerve wormed from one empty socket. Harriman's puffy face went slack all at once, like a marionette whose puppeteer has stepped out for a smoke. His color leeched away; his head lolled; and then his lower jaw sagged. A convulsive shudder wracked his frame; something bulged and heaved in his throat.

Alana screamed.

Harriman vomited something slick and mucinous and gray. It had the undulant consistency of a jellyfish, the same translucent milkiness and yet it was also muscular, like the rope of a serpent's body worming in a gurgling, unctuous coil. Emptied of its cargo, Harriman's savaged body drifted away, spinning in a slow, lazy spiral.

Give me what I want. The shedu's voice was sibilant, gauzy, curiously tender. This one was weak; he let her get away and then he smashed his own facemask and he died, and for what?

And yet, Daniel thought, the shedu-clearly a Master to have manufactured such an illusion and held open this gateway-had not used Harriman's body to escape. Why?

The Master, seeping into his brain: I require a vessel able to contain me.

Something like him: a binder, who could hold all that monstrousness for all time, if need be. Someone whose shell would not decay. A kind of shedu-esque Dorian Gray. Well, that was his talent, wasn't it? Had the Rebbe known? He thought of the legend, that the shedim were locked away in mountains and in the depths…

The Master: Who do you think imprisoned me here to begin with? You are a pawn, nothing more, but I offer you power. I offer you life.

Something had gone wrong here, Daniel knew. He was surprised at how calm he felt, as if he'd always known that this was his destiny. All his sins, the stains of his past…

So. This prison had weakened, or the Master found some way to break through and now there were others, waiting to come through…

But why Alana?

The Master, again: Without her, you would never have been drawn here. Submit freely, and I will let her go again.

A lie. He knew that. But he would have to very careful now.

"What," Daniel sucked in a mouthful of air but couldn't fill his lungs. "What… guarantee?"

"Who…" Alana gulped. "Who… are you… talking to?"

No guarantees, but I will not interfere. A pause. You do not have much time. Soon your air will be gone and you will die. Submit. Open yourself and live.

"Go." Chest working, he ripped off his spare air and thrust it at her. He spoke in bursts, trying to get it all out while they still had time. "Get out. Guideline. Let you go once. If I stay…"

"N-no." Her skin was a sick, dusky blue in his headlamp. "No… I'm nearly out." The whistle of her next breath. "I won't make it." Another gasp. "Not leaving… without you."

"GO!" Pushing the canister into her arms, he shoved her, suddenly, very hard. The effort blacked his vision for a second, and the world tilted wildly. Then his vision cleared, and he saw that she was flailing, one hand still holding the canister, the other trying to right herself.

She wouldn't go, she wouldn't go! But he couldn't spare a lot of energy; if he were too depleted, they were both dead; and he certainly didn't have much time. Still, he had to give her this chance because there were no more options. Gritting his teeth, he focused his will, marshaled his mind, harnessed the power of the mana radiating from the rift, conjured up the image of the crater's maw and thought: GO.

For an instant, nothing. Then, he felt the energy cohering around her, the crackle sizzling through the water, and when he looked, a electric halo closed round her body the way arcs of electricity dance from an antique Van de Graaf. She stiffened, and he caught her look of first confusion and then comprehension; and she reached for him, had time for one last word: "DANIEL!"

And then she was gone. • • •

And he was dead. • • •

Foolish. The Master draped over him, a softly deforming ooze. She has no chance, and you have wasted precious energy. You'll truly die if you don't take me into you. You'll suffocate, or drown…

Daniel felt his consciousness slewing, bit down as hard as he could on the soft flesh of his cheek. The shock was like a slap in the face, but his head was roaring now, the pain battering his skull, pulping his brain.

He couldn't wait. He wanted to give her more time. And he wanted to live so much now, more than he ever had since Rachel.

"Go," he whispered, "go, Alana, go, go…"

Stop wasting air. Submit.

Now.

"Shevi min hayom v'machar v'leyolam," he croaked: This is the bond from today and tomorrow and forever…

YES. The Master closed, cocooning Daniel's body. Its tendrils wormed through the rip in the back of Daniel's suit, then slithered along his neck, streaming along his arms, twining over his chest in a kind of ecstasy. YES.

"Mumah anah umishveh beshem SHEDU HA-GADOL," he chanted, the Hebrew flowing from his lips, riding the last dregs of his air. "I make an oath and bind in the name of the Master who sits in Tehom whence all evil comes…"

He drew a breath to continue-and got nothing. Tried again, and failed.

Out of air. But it didn't matter.

Once invited, the Master would never leave, and it was in his mouth now, gargling off the last of his breath, flowing into his lungs, leaking into his blood, running in fingers over the crevices of his brain… Daniel felt his mind dimming, the final remnants of who he was slipping away. But he could still move-fitfully, in tiny starts, like a child's toy whose battery's run out-and his arm responded, his fingers crawling along his wrist. Now, it had to be now because if he waited any longer, the Master would have him for all time, and all this would be for nothing.

Would Alana know? Feel it? No. They were too far underground. He had done what he could.

Go, Alana. Go and live…

With the last of his strength, Daniel punched at his wrist-

As the Master suddenly sensed his intent: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE…

And now Daniel was swooning into oblivion: Rachel, I'm com…

The water flared into a bright burning rose as Daniel's vest blew.

One second she was floating above the rift; the next she was staring up at an oculus of cobalt blue against black, clutching Daniel's spare canister to her chest. She was back at the seamount's maw.

She allowed herself one instant of anger-Daniel had the power to get them out all along but hadn't used it, why? Then she inhaled, got nothing, tried again, got more nothing. Thought: Shit.

Working fast, she stripped her full facemask, tried not to panic as the water slammed her face, located the mouthpiece of Daniel's spare canister, jammed the regulator into her mouth, hit the purge button, and inhaled. Cool air flooded into her burning lungs, and she had to fight to not suck the canister dry. The auxiliary canister was designed for depths above forty meters, and she was two hundred feet below that. The increased pressure would make her use up her air more quickly and besides, this wasn't trimix. She'd get narced pretty damn quick.