Fate/first order derivative
Part II.12
⇒ continue: iteration 28, day 7, early night
⇒ well i don't know why i came here tonight
⇒ i got the feeling that something ain't right
It takes me another minute or two to throw together a playlist with the few tracks I recognize. Which doesn't sound like much, but hey, you try working with a brawl happening like three meters away. Regardless, that gives me a little breathing room.
I look up and check in on how the battle's going. Huh. Surprisingly well so far, actually. Saber seems to be everywhere at once. As I watch, she swings her sword in a wide arc, sending a shockwave through the air that knocks a crowd of golems away like flies. Then she turns and cleaves the construct behind her straight through the neck, taking off its skull and producing a spurt of silver fluid. (So the magical robot soldiers bleed? Wow. That's just excessive.) Shirou seems to be holding his own so far, too. He's dueling with a single opponent right now, his mike stand against the golem's... I dunno, some kind of falchion, maybe. Rin kneels behind Saber's motorcycle, using it as cover while she pelts the mob with Gandr blasts. (I don't see any sign of Kitten. Did she already get scrapped?)
"Rin!" Saber hollers over the noise. "Be careful with that! I gave my word that I would return it intact!"
"Return it where?" Rin shouts back. "Where'd you even get this thing?!"
"The dealership!"
"You bought it?!" The color drains from Shirou's face. As one might expect from the guy likely to get stuck with the bill.
"Of course not!" Saber knocks away a blow from a spear, then whirls in and cuts the wielder down. "I'm test-driving it!"
"That's not how that works, Saber!" Shirou yells. He gets inside the golem's reach and bashes it over the head, sending it reeling back, a big dent in its skull. "That's not how that works at all!"
"Why not? I drove it! And it is clearly being tested!"
I glance over at Gilgamesh. He doesn't look particularly bothered by the sight of his mooks getting shredded. He just sits there with that same goddamn smirk on his face, taking the occasional sip of wine.
So why doesn't Saber just try and blast him with Excalibur already? Oh, wait, duh... we're in the middle of the city. No matter how she angled it, who knows how much collateral damage we'd be looking at? Man... this battle is just a terrible idea for us on every level, isn't it?
⇒ yup
⇒ say hi to our old friend charlie foxtrot
Okay, next order of business. Is there anything - anything at all - that I can do to help them from here? I scan the booth. There's a light board on the table to my side. I could try putting on the strobe... but honestly, that seems just as likely to hurt the squad as it might help. Or I could cut the lights altogether - but same problem, and besides, don't constructs get darkvision as standard?
Otherwise, there's two bigass sound boards, the laptop, a huge power supply/circuit breaker for the amps, and the microphone. I guess it'd be easy enough to create some feedback with the mike - just turn it on and hold it close to a speaker. But would that even hurt these things? They don't have ears, at least of the obvious fleshy variety.
Which leads me to my other little problem. I look over at the golem standing guard in the booth with me. It stares back.
⇒ examine golem
Sure. It looks to be generally pretty typical of the other armored-type constructs out on the dance floor. No black bouncer t-shirt, though. (Maybe they ran out?) A little over two meters tall. Unlike Kitten, I notice, its skull lacks a jaw. (I guess she must be the exception to the rule, probably an elite unit or a light skirmisher or something.)
Otherwise, as I mentioned, its 'eyes' are blood-red rubies. The body reminds me vaguely of European full plate armor, albeit made out of brass or gold or maybe really shiny bronze instead of steel. Metalwork's surprisingly ornate when viewed up close - lots of strange runes and vaguely animalistic patterns engraved on its surface. Its hands currently hang stiffly by its sides. The extended wrist blade (which I suspect the other golems don't have; this one's vambraces look particularly beefed up by comparison) is maybe thirty to forty centimeters long and dull silver in color, its jagged edges slightly rusted in a few places.
There's no helmet or anything to protect the neck or the skull; the armor ends at the gorget. Otherwise, I'm not seeing any obvious weak points. No big glowy bits that scream 'bash here for extra damage.' Or any kind of off switch.
⇒ anything else around you
Yeah, actually... I sniff the air. Something's burning. Smells like insulation or plastic. Coming from...
Oh. Shit. It's coming from the direction of that speaker tower Saber crushed on her way in. Right by the exit to the booth. Is there still live current going to that thing? Because fuck that oh so very much.
⇒ can you stop it
Maybe? I'd need to get a closer look first. I look around. Work gloves - work gloves - c'mon, work gloves. No work gloves. Fuck. Okay. Guess the cloth ones I'm wearing are gonna have to do. I head over to the amp -
Or, at least, that's the plan before I find the wrist blade up against my neck. Golden boy's a lot faster than it looks.
⇒ think fast
I take a deep breath and look it right in the... well... rubies. "Okay. Look, Conan the Terminator. Chances are I'm probably already gonna die in this whole mess. Thing is, I'd still kinda like to not burn to death in an electric fire while I'm waiting for that to happen. You get me?"
It doesn't move. Another golem gets thrown against the wall next to the booth and slides to the ground.
I sigh. "Fine. Let's try this instead. Your boss gave me a job to do, so I might as well do it right. Plus, this is all his stuff anyway, isn't it? You really think he wants it to get destroyed by accident?"
It eyes me suspiciously. Somehow.
"Look, I won't even need to leave the booth all the way, okay? I can just kinda lean off the edge." Which is true. The broken amp is that close. "Just let me do this before there's a fire? Please?"
The golem hesitates. Then it slowly removes the blade from my throat. I breath out. "Thank you."
It raises its hand. Points to its eye sockets, then at me. Then pops out the wrist blade on its other arm.
"Yeah, yeah, message received..." I blink. "Wait... can you not talk?"
It shakes its head.
"Huh. Wokay, then." Weird design choice. I shrug and head over to the crushed amp.
The smell of burning definitely gets stronger the closer I get to the speaker tower. Bits of destroyed tweeters and mid-range drivers lie across the floor. The steel utility pole Saber smashed through the wall still rests propped up on top of it. (Geez - looks like she tore it straight out of the concrete.) A mangled length of overhead power line hangs limply from the top of the mast. It winds back through the breach and into the street outside the club, where it ends in a sad little pile. Mental note: I need to keep as far away from it and the pole as I can. I'm fairly certain the line isn't live, but there might be a short in the amp running through them. (Also, I really really need to stop antagonizing Saber. Like for forever and ever.)
⇒ be careful
I get down on my hands and knees and crawl into the altogether-too-small-for-comfort gap between the pole and the floor, keeping my legs inside the booth as promised. For its part, the golem clanks over and stands next to me. It very carefully positions itself between me and the breach in the wall.
I glance up at it as I feel around the floor for cords beneath the debris. "So... you got a name or something?" Just making conversation, you know.
⇒ it just told you it can't talk
See, that's what makes it fun. The golem hesistates, then taps a bit of cuniform embossed on its collarbone.
"Yeah, I can't read that, dude."
It thinks for a second. Then it raises one index finger, puts it down, raises it again, then holds up three more.
"1-1-4?" I ask. "That's your name? Your name is a number?"
It nods.
"Damn. Well, that's kinda a big ol' pile of bullshit, ain't it?"
It shrugs.
I turn back to the amp. "I'm gonna call you Iiyo, okay? That cool?"
The golem tilts his head.
"Iiyo? Iiyo," I say. "Done."
⇒ skip forward
Long story short, I manage to find and pull the amp's power cord without killing myself. Then I neaten things up in that area so that we don't all burn to death. I guess my playlist isn't bad, because Gil just seems to forget about me after that. He doesn't even have me killed when "Lime in the Coconut" plays. (What can I say? I was desperate for a bridge track.)
Oh, and by the way, the entire time I'm doing this? The battle's still raging. Eventually, I figure out why things are taking so long, even though Saber's junking constructs left and right:
The golems keep getting back up.
I even get to see it happen up close, when one that Saber sliced in frigging half straight through its armor slumped down next to the broken amp. That silver blood the golems leak all over the place? It almost immediately started to coalesce and draw itself back together, like droplets of mercury on a plate. Eventually, the quicksilver collected and soaked back into the body. A big tear in the chestplate knitted itself together, and the golem started moving again. It reattached its legs to its torso and got back on its feet. So... self-repair nanobots? Built-in healing potion? I don't have a clue.
Main thing is this: Gilgamesh made this fight into an endurance game. And we're losing.
Even Saber looks exhausted by now. She's facing off with Kitten again. I guess at some point, she chopped the flying hammer's chain in half, so the golem has only one weight to throw around instead of two. As I watch, Kitten launches the ball at her. Saber bats it away with her sword, like they're playing cricket or something - but a coil of chain strikes her in the face, leaving a cut on her cheek.
As for the two Masters, Shirou's in pretty rough shape. Stab wounds and cuts all over the place, as per usual for him. He's still fighting, of course, but he's really slowed down. He's been struggling to deal with this one golem wielding a pair of short swords for the past few minutes. And Rin - holy shit, Rin's actually meleeing. At some point, she picked up a sword that looks a little like a Chinese jian. She's doing really well with it, too - holding off a whole crowd of golems by herself. Did you know she could do that? I had absolutely no idea.
⇒ probably deliberate on her part
⇒ that way she has something unexpected she can fall back on
Makes sense. But if that's the case, I'm guessing she must be way low on mana. Haven't seen her use a gem in a while, so she must be out of those, too. Doesn't look like she's hurt, but she lost Shirou's hat and her outfit's kinda gotten torn up. I'm... trying not to pay too much attention to that last part.
⇒ you do that
Also, the Kawasaki has been pushed over on its side and kinda trampled on a bit. Hope Saber didn't make a safety deposit. And then there's me... trapped on the sidelines.
As the playlist switches to the 's, a harsh squeal comes out of the speakers. I grimace and adjust some knobs on the sound board. The noise fades. I look over at Iiyo. "I was worried about this. We're getting harmonic resonance from the broken subwoofer. See that green cord over there?" I point to a thin audio cable over by the edge of the booth. "Go pull it out, okay? Don't cut it, pull it out. Got it?"
Iiyo seems to have relaxed a little since I didn't try to run off earlier - he's stowed both wrist blades, for one thing. Still, this may be pushing our working relationship a bit too far. He crosses his arms and gives me a look.
"Look, I need to stay here, okay? We're close to a core overload as is." I make another few small changes on the sound board. "Anyway, you'll still be between me and the exit, won't you?"
He shifts back and forth on his feet reluctantly. As I suspected, though, ancient Sumerian warrior spirits really aren't up to date on the latest technobabble. He clanks over to the edge of the booth and bends down to get the green cable.
I hit the switch.
Which sends current down the broken amp's power cord. Which I shredded and rigged to the overhead line. Which I reeled in and wrapped around the steel utility pole, under the auspices of 'tidying things up.'
Aluminum wire coiled around a steel pole plus current equals electromagnet.
Which actually wouldn't be much of a problem for Iiyo, since he seems to be made mostly out of bronze or brass or gold or whatever, all of which I'm pretty sure aren't magnetic. But those wrist blades of his can rust. That means they're made out of iron.
Iiyo's wrist gets pulled straight to the pole, just in front of the coiled-up power line. Clink.
⇒ ...
⇒ ...
⇒ ... dude
He immediately realizes what's going on and pops his other wrist blade. But that just puts it into the electromagnet's range, so it goes straight to the pole as well. Both arms now stuck, he twists his head around and glares at me over his shoulder, a furious glint in his rubies.
I grin. "Sorry, man. Nothing personal."
I crawl underneath the table next to me and out of the DJ booth.
⇒ okay so now that
⇒ that was impressive as fuck
It kinda was, wasn't it? Too bad I have absolutely no idea what I'm gonna do now!
I come out from underneath the table amid a pile of scrapped golems, most of which are in the process of putting themselves back together. They're busy, though, so they don't seem to notice me. Battle on the dance floor's to my right. VIP section is in front of me. So I'm going that way, I guess?
⇒ this seems less than wise
Oh, completely. If you can think of another option, let me know. In the meantime, I crawl across the pile of dented brass and shorn-off metal limbs. My hand bumps into something. I glance over to see a bronze dagger lying on the floor.
⇒ pick up potentially useful object
It's no wrench or crowbar, but it's better than nothing. I grab the knife and keep going.
I get out of the scrap pile and to the edge of the VIP section. Okay, now I can try and think. Can I create some kind of distraction in the back of the club? Maybe draw some of the golems off the dance floor... then get back to the booth and kill the lights? That could work, I guess. I creep under the railing and behind a chair...
Then I hear Gilgamesh snort. "Really, little mongrel?" I look up to see him smirking down at me from his high table. Shit.
⇒ so close
"I see you finally manage to outwit my collection's resident embarrassment." He motions towards Iiyo. The golem's actually dislodged the metal pole from the speaker tower and dragged it with him halfway across the booth. Pretty impressive. Iiyo notices the eyes of the boss on him and immediately falls to his knees. "No great feat, that. I wouldn't feel too proud of yourself. We'll discuss your punishment later, wretch!"
He calls that last bit out towards the DJ booth. Iiyo's head droops. Aw. Now I feel bad.
"Now, as for you..." He stands up. Seems pretty wasted, from the looks of things. I see at least five empty wine bottles sitting out on his table, with a sixth half empty. "You're lucky you came with such interesting company. Otherwise, I might have acted on my threat from last night."
Oh, so he now he remembers me. Yay... I guess...
⇒ told you not to complain
"Tell me, boy... what exactly do you intend to do with that?" He gestures towards the dagger. "Saber did tell you about me, didn't she? I struggled with gods and monsters when the world was young. I tricked the giant Huwawa out of his powers. I crushed the Bull of Heaven's head beneath my axe! And you... you think that you can assassinate me? With what - that butter knife?" He sniggers and shakes his head in disbelief.
I almost try to deny it, but there's no point, is there?
⇒ nope
"Well?" Gilgamesh smirks. "Go on, then, little man. You've come all this way, haven't you? I'll even allow it - you may strike me once. Consider it your payment for services rendered." I eye him. He gestures towards himself. "Well, come on! You've made me curious. It's not every day a mortal has the chance to strike a god. Let's see what strength remains in the blood of man, shall we?"
... I'm totally fucked here, aren't I.
⇒ looks like
In the background, the playlist switches to the Black Mages' cover of the Final Fantasy battle theme. Last track.
I take a deep breath. I stand up. I square my shoulders.
I cross the three or four paces between me and him.
Then I reach out with my free hand and poke him in the nose with a finger. "Boop," I say, completely deadpan.
Incidentally, I forgot my gloves back in the DJ booth.
ZZRRRP
⇒ download complete
"Right this way, Mr. Al-Samawah." The guard opens the door for me. I choose to ignore the slight of not being addressed by my proper title - it's not as if the mongrel is worthy of knowing it, after all, much less speaking it - and walk into the Hong Kong penthouse.
The interior of the room is devoid of furnishings, save for a passable view of the city through the windows, a single linen-clad table, and a generic thirtysomething in a business suit. He bows as I enter. "Your Highness," the flunky - I forget his name, Anders, Ableton, something starting with an A - says. "I trust the flight was to your liking?"
"Spare me the pleasantries, slave," I say. "Show me what you have."
"Of course." The varlet - officially representing the firm of Marshall, Carter and Dark - unlocks the case sitting on the table. "It took us some time to secure an item meeting your specifications. However, I think you will be pleased."
"We'll see." I look into the case to see a curved dagger, cushioned in silk. "What am I looking at?"
"The Witch-Knife of Asenath," the flunky says. "An artifact of the Waite family, forged in 1933. First sold at auction in 1937. Remained in private hands until we acquired it six years ago. Our tests indicate that it should be effective on... persons of your nature."
I pick up the knife and heft it. Inferior make and balance, of course. But what else would you expect from this pathetic era? "For how long?"
"Depending on the power of the spirit and the strength of the host involved, anywhere from three days to a month."
"How do I use it?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Merely stab the knife into the recipient. The transfer should be -"
To his credit, the slave doesn't make a sound as I plunge the blade into his gut. There's a feeling of disjunction, of wrongness. And then -
And then I am staring at my own face through the slave's eyes. I pull the knife out of my gut as my empty vessel immediately starts to dissolve into its base components.
I lift the slave's - my - hand, and flex the fingers. Not bad. I can feel the body start to burn, straining to contain my essence... but I think that it will indeed last as long as the varlet suggested. Long enough for me to procure a more suitable replacement, in any case.
"Is it to your liking, sir?" Another slave - identical to Anders or whatever his name was - inquires calmly as he enters the chamber. Interesting. I wonder if these varlets are constructs of some kind, manufactured for this specific task, or if the firm simply hires twins when possible. Either seems just as likely.
"It is... sufficient." I glance down with distaste at the pile of steaming mud my body has dissolved into. How abhorrent that I should be lowered to inhabiting such dross. Still, if I must choose between what the Grail shits and this degenerate cross-breed... "I can return, yes?"
"Of course."
I stab the knife into the mud. Another disjunction; with my spirit once more in residence, my body immediately regains its former perfection. I stand up as the abandoned corpse crashes to the floor.
"Tell your masters I am content," I say. "Payment in full will be transferred to their accounts by morning." I wave my hand. A pile of gold and precious jewels, easily five times the weight of a man, appears on the table next to the case. "Here. Recompense for your damaged property."
"Your Majesty is too kind." The second name-starts-with-A bows. I must admit to being somewhat impressed in spite of myself. The firm remains every bit as professional as they were when I first encountered them in Uruk. Such consistency is rare, especially in these times. "Shall I wrap it up for you, then?"
"No need." Taking up the knife, I open the gate and plunge it into the storehouse. On the same shelf as the potion of Utnapishtim, I should think, next to the Spice Girls albums. "As you can see, delivery is already complete..."
ZZRRRP
I come out of the memory to a world in slow motion. A spurt of blood hangs in the air. My hand tumbles slowly in front of me. It's... um...
It's not connected to my arm anymore.
⇒ jesus
Time speeds up. My knees give way. I collapse to the ground.
"Enough." Gilgamesh stares down at me, a cold fury in his eyes. He holds the bronze dagger in his hand, now covered in blood. Um. You know. My blood. "I tire of this game."
(Could he sense the memory hack, the way Kotomine did? Or is he just pissed that I laid my inferior finger on his superior face? Maybe he just thinks I was making fun of him or something. I mean, I guess maybe I was, just a little...)
⇒ just try to stay calm
You know, it doesn't hurt as much as I would've expected? Just feels kinda... warm and numb. Wow. I'm losing a lot of blood, aren't I? Wonder if I should do something about that... oh, hey. There's a skylight in the ceiling above me. Sweet, didn't even notice that before...
I hear Saber call my name. I turn my head slightly and see her rush past Kitten towards me. Aw, that's nice of her. She takes three steps before a pike appears in a bronze flash just a centimeter or two from her stomach and runs her through, right beneath her chestplate. She falls to her knees, clutching her gut.
Gilgamesh shouts a command in a different language. The golems all abruptly stop fighting and step back to the edge of the dance floor, leaving the Masters and Saber out in the open. "This was amusing for a time," he snaps. "But I find my patience has been tested enough for one night."
Two dozen bronze portals appear above his head, each one loaded with a nasty-looking sword or spear, as if they're blade cannons or something. At least two seem to be angled down at me. Shirou and Rin stare upwards, their eyes wide. Yeesh... overkill much, dude?...
⇒ kinda seems to be his thing
... there really is just no countering this guy, is there? The moment he decides to stop fucking around, boom, we're done. Rocks fall, everyone dies. No defense he can't get past, no attack he can't parry somehow -
I hear glass shatter.
"Aw, that's too bad." Archer lands on Gilgamesh's table, knives in hand, his red cloak billowing around him. "See... my night's just getting started."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
I have no idea if Tom's improvised electromagnet could actually work. If someone else wants to do the math, please feel free. Let's assume the utility pole is a meter in diameter and the overhead line's a medium-voltage ACSR.
So can I talk about Iiyo for a second? Because oh man did I put way too much thought/time/research into this tiny little inconsequential detail which might never come up again! First, his "name" is actually 74. It's written as 114, though, because Sumerian mathematics used a base 60 system. (Ever wonder why there's 60 minutes in an hour? That's basically why.) Second, "Iiyo" itself is a bit of Japanese wordplay. One way to pronounce the numerals 1-1-4 is i-i-yo (pronounced 'ee-yo'), which is also a casual way of stating agreement, along the lines of "sure, fine" or "that's cool." Which seems like the sort of thing Tom might dub an ancient magitek warrior-slave holding him captive at knifepoint.
Anyway, I'm just happy I finally got around to introducing a moe character. About time, right?
So how could Saber possibly have convinced a responsible motorcycle dealer to let her take an expensive bike on a test drive of indeterminate length alone? In a word: Charisma. Somewhere in this loop, I figure, there's a Kawasaki salesman who's wholeheartedly decided to quit smoking, start paying his child support, and to give his life in a heartbeat for that blonde woman who came in and spoke with him earlier that day, should she ever ask it of him. But alas, his story must remain unexplored.
Edit: Full points to Kuratius for pointing out that I misremembered how solenoid-style electromagnets work. Text has been updated to accurately reflect how the physics work (I hope?). While I'm giving credit where it's due, as many commenters have mentioned, the firm of Marshall, Carver and Dark comes from the SCP Foundation canon. The Waite family is from "The Thing on the Doorstep" by H.P. Lovecraft. And - why not - the lyrics to "Stuck In The Middle With You" were written by Joe Egan and Gerry Rafferty.
