Carson could kick himself for being so stupid. Of course, looking back, he could see clearly where he went wrong, but when it was happening, everything seemed perfectly reasonable.
A while after Ionia and Arthre had left to find a public port, Carson left the ship in the hands of the repair crew, making sure they got the point that if they did anything more than repair the damages - like upgrading the system or even waxing the finish, he would refuse to pay for it. And with one last tentative glance at the Evie, he shouldered his backpack and went out into the city to find that gang.
They had given an address to meet at, but Carson couldn't be sure that was their headquarters, or anything near it. Likely, it was an abandoned building or a random shop, somewhere discreet. Carson left his solar sword on the ship, swapping for a less obvious weapon; a small handgun that he kept tucked into the inside of his jacket.
As he wandered through the streets, keeping one eye on the signs, he couldn't help but get distracted by the people. This city, he knew, was a republic, led by the Borg Counsel, a group of rich engineers and factory owners who mostly passed laws to help themselves and other members of the higher class. The result was a stark contrast between the higher and lower class that was as evident as the cybernetic transplants on the bodies of the residents. He could tell when he started venturing into the less wealthy districts, as the buildings became shabbier, the signs more rickety, the streets unkempt and littered with graffiti and trash.
The people in particular were evidence of this wealth clash; here they didn't have the gleaming updated cyborg parts that upper members had. Their machine parts were riddled with rust and creaked as they walked. Growing children winced at the too-small parts that they had obviously outgrown but were too poor to pay for updates.
Carson drew his jacket tighter around himself, sliding one hand around his gun as he encountered these people, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. That was never a good sign.
Soon he came to the address he'd been given, and it looked much like Carson expected it to; an old warehouse that used to store what the signs depicted as some kind of storage drive. Carson went around the back, where his message said there would be an unlocked door. He entered, still keeping one hand on his gun.
The whole place had been hollowed out like some giant shell, the walls stripped of machinery and the carpet ripped up from the floor. Dust flew in Carson's wake, tickling his nose, dancing in the grey light that filtered through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The silence in the place was deafening, like someone had just stuffed cotton in his ears. His eyes scanned every corner, but no one was there.
Then suddenly there was a faint pop, a spark went off in one corner, and just as Carson's attention was diverted, the windows exploded inward. Glass rained down as he hit the floor, covering his head. The room filled with a loud static noise, he smelled copper, and when he opened his eyes again the room was silent once more.
He sat up, dusted himself off, looked around the room, his head racing. Then, just near the shattered windows, the wall shifted, as if it were melting. Two figures detached themselves from the stone, and their colors shifted until two people, a girl and a boy, were before Carson. Carson's brain couldn't work out their ages, other than being relatively young, because their features weren't mundane. They seemed to have skin made of almost every material at once; stone, glass, metal, even neon lights where teeth should have shone when they smiled.
"Hello," Carson breathed, still in shock.
The two just stared at him and smiled with those brightened teeth.
"Are you with the Haloes?"
The boy looked to the girl, as if remarking on something interesting and perhaps a bit amusing. She glanced at him with a smile and turned to Carson, then gestured at him.
"You want me to follow you?"
She started walking across the room, passing Carson. She happened to glance at him, those neon eyes and smile still studying him in amusement, and then she sank to the floor, placing her hand on the glass littered stone. Suddenly a square patch lit up and raised slightly, and she moved it out of the way. A small shaft lay beneath the floor, and when the girl stood and looked expectantly at Carson, he stared at her incredulously. "Down there?"
She walked to join the boy, but on the way there she gave a sudden rough shove to Carson, sending him into the shaft. The pair followed after him, landing nimbly on the floor. The ceiling closed behind them, and they were alone in dark, save for a tiny light emanating from the buttons on the wall panel. The boy pushed one, and the shaft started to descend. Carson stood up, a bit slower than before, and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. "Geez, you guys are straight-to-the-point here. Any clue where I'm being taken?"
The two just stared at him.
"Not one to talk, huh?" he crossed his arms.
When the shaft stopped, a pair of doors slid open, and he was met with a long hallway. The two strange young people led the way out, and Carson followed, now catching on that they either weren't willing to speak, or perhaps they didn't have the ability to.
The hallway was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, and Carson watched his reflection as he walked. He looked a mess; his hair unkempt, dark circles under his eyes. If he deigned to look down at his fingers, he would find the nails chewed at significantly.
And at the end of the hall was a single door, and then the boy knocked it opened to its own accord. When Carson stepped through, he gasped. It was like stepping into an entirely different world. The whole place was stone and exposed pipes, but it was decorated and furnished as a gigantic gambling hall. Velvet lined tables with people playing cards and billiards, machines with images of spinning wheels and various other lottery programs lining the walls, and along the back wall was a bar, spilling over with cyborgs waiting for strange things that looked like storage drives to stick into their heads.
"Morgyn's armor..." he breathed, not even sure of what to think of the place. The two young people were looking at him, curious but impatient, and he followed them onto the back of the place, where a set of double doors sat.
On the other side, another hall lay, but this one was lined with doors. The pair led him further along until they were in the room at the end of the hall. The interior was such a stark contrast to the place outside and even the place beyond the hall that Carson had to blink a few times.
His feet met a plush wine-colored carpet. His nose was greeted with the smell of oil masked by something rich and bold, like cinnamon and coffee. His ears heard nothing but the faint buzz of some distant machine (or perhaps that was just the background noise of this entire planet) and his eyes swallowed the image of pristine edge. The furniture - the sofa, the armchairs, the mantle and even the clock hanging upon the wall - they were all black and white and sharp edges and clean lines. The massive desk before Carson was much the same; black, with white books and small figurines and a glass of an unknown clear liquid.
But Carson was wholly unprepared for the man at the desk. His name was Alyssius J. Xenakia and he was one of the most feared men in this entire solar system. Carson had been warned profusely before being connected with this guy, that this man could not be trusted with more than his uncanny affinity with cruelty. No one could tell Carson where he came from, or how he had come to be the wealthiest and most notorious gang boss on this side of their solar system, but they all bespoke of his wrath and his mind. The man had a mind like no other, they all said.
The man before Carson didn't quite seem to line up with the preconceived notion he'd had in his head. He'd been expecting some fat old man addled by wine and expensive suits. The man before him looked no older than Carson himself, with dark olive skin and freckles and hair that had been gelled back immaculately. He was lean and even a bit lanky, his black suit and white shirt crisp but rather plain. In fact, he silver pin holding his black tie and a single silver ring around his pinky were the only signs of indulgence about him. Perhaps the most interesting thing about this man was the mechanical arm and panel on the back of his head of his head that gleamed with fresh polish. His caramel eyes lit up, and the corner of his mouth tilted upward as Carson halted at the door.
"Well, are you going to wait in vain for an invitation?" he asked, waving a hand for the young boy and girl to close the door. They did so and stood guard at the door, watching Carson to see what he would do the same way one might watch a caged animal at the zoo.
Carson started and strode forward, sitting at the black leather seat at the foot of the desk. Alyssius J. Xenakia reached to pour Carson a glass of the clear liquid from a crystal bottle, but Carson stopped him.
"No, thank you."
He paused. "You don't want something to calm your obviously firing nerves?"
Carson tried to still his shaking hands. He tried for a charming smile. "I'll only be in and out. Don't want to overstay my welcome."
He shrugged, but poured more in his own glass and sipped from it. "So, I heard you're in the business of magic."
"It's more of a hobby, actually," Carson said, leaning back in his seat and staring at the man's desk. "A pastime, you know."
Alyssius flashed a smile over the rim of his glass. "Yes, that's how most of these things start out, don't they?" He took a gulp, then set the glass down, clearing his throat. "So, what do you have for me."
Carson unslung his backpack and started rifling through what he'd brought. "What kind of magic are you looking for exactly? Luck? Strength? A bit time on your life, perhaps?"
"Gallivanter, what have my connections told you exactly that I was interested in concerning the realm of magic?"
Carson stopped. "Not much Mister Xenakia..."
"Oh, no need to call me that. Alyssius will do." He smiled. Carson didn't like the way he smiled, like a serpent.
"Fine then. Alyssius. They told me you were interested in something...different. Though I'm not entirely sure what that means." He shrugged.
"Fair enough. I don't tell outsiders much. But would you like to know?"
Carson hesitated, watching the man's eyes and too friendly smile. "Why not?"
So Alyssius stood up and rounded the desk, crossing the room to a bookcase that Carson hadn't noticed was there before. He seemed to be looking for a particular book. Then he turned back to Carson. "Stand. And take your things with you."
Carson did so, and as he crossed the room, the young girl and boy started toward him. Carson stopped hesitantly.
"Don't mind them," Alyssius waved away. "They are merely here to follow us. They follow me virtually everywhere, you see, when I don't send them out on missions for me."
"Missions?" Carson asked. "What kinds of missions?"
Alyssius merely looked at him with an amused smile. "Oh, nothing of your concern. Gathering information, mostly. They have...quite the talent for spying."
Carson tried to ignore the two as they exchanged sly looks.
Alyssius shifted a small statue of a planet aside and the whole bookcase slid away to reveal an elevator. They all filed in and traveled down, down, down, until Carson was sure that they were going to be lost in the planet's core. Finally they stepped out into a large room filled with glass cases and tables full of machine parts and beakers.
"This is my laboratory," Alyssius said, sweeping a hand around the place. Plain stone and exposed pipes marked the room. Shelves of miscellaneous projects and machines lay along one wall. The other had large cylindrical glass cases, a few filled up with water and lit up with florescent lights.
"It's amazing," Carson said, awed. He was taken back to his days as a small child, fascinated by every piece of machinery he came into contact with. He remembered taking things apart, learning how to build by assessing each part and understanding how it functioned. Often times, it was the one activity that could ease the sporadic energy he always felt bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin.
Alyssius seemed to understand something in his thoughts. His eyes lit up, and he said, "Ah, I see I have a fellow scientific mind. Do you often engineer things?"
"I used to," he said hesitantly, as they were quickly approaching a forbidden subject. "When I was a kid. I remember taking every bit of technology I owned apart, trying to learn how to build and repair things on my own."
"Really? What kinds of things?"
"Hovers, mostly." Carson had loved hovers as a child, had wanted to learn everything about them.
Alyssius nodded brightly. "I did the same thing with machines. And still do. Come, I'll show you." He led Carson through the room, past tables and models and machines taken apart. "As a child I was always interested in the art of creation; the ability we as mortals have to invent something that makes life easier, more meaningful, or just more exciting. I was fortunate to be born on this planet, where our main trade is in technology. And over the years I nurtured my talents. Since then I've invented many things; new upgrades for cybernetic transplants, mostly." he gestured to a table, where lay a half disassembled mechanical arm.
"That must be great for your people," Carson said, inspecting the arm. All the pieces fit together in such a complex way; each gear connecting to another, and another. He wondered that if he were to take just one out, if the entire rest of the thing would fall apart. "You all must value progression."
"Oh, yes. We do." Alyssius continued on, hands clasped behind his back. "It's in our very DNA, our culture. Progression is who we are." he stopped at another table and picked up a small device no bigger than his thumb. "My interests have always resided in the field of mortal progression. The art of making us, living but limited beings, better. Perfecting of the ability to be, I like to call it."
Carson stilled, listening. He wasn't sure what to make of this statement.
Alyssius then turned around to face him, a knowing smile on his face. "You're wary, I suspect. But don't mistake me; this field encompasses many things. Mostly I aim to make our lives better, richer. After all, mortals have only one shot at the miracle of life. Why not make it more worth living?"
"I suppose," Carson said, though there was still an uneasiness in him. Why would one change something about themselves to make their life more worth living? Wasn't life, in and of itself worth experiencing?
Alyssius smiled. "For example; this storage drive. It was one of the first projects I undertook. Storage drives, as you may know, are this planet's main export. I was fascinated by the transfer of information; the ability to share anything across the universe. Just thinking of the unlimited possibilities thrilled me, and one day I was repairing a loose wire in my arm when I got the idea to alter the drive to accommodate transfer within a cyborg's hard drive. Thus this little device was created."
"You invented those?" Carson blinked in surprise. He'd seen them everywhere along the streets and in restaurants.
"Well, essentially," Alyssius said, turning over the drive in his hand. "I invented and created a prototype, and then realized that this wonderful thing could not just be kept to myself. I needed to expand. And so I pitched it to almost every business around here, to find myself being grabbed at by every merchant and business across this globe. I sold the patent, and have been paid handsomely since."
Carson nodded. "Sounds like it was a smart plan."
"Oh, it was. It gave me the footing I needed to elevate the Haloes to the place they are today."
So he had become the leader of this gang because of his inventions. Carson still wasn't sure what to think of this guy.
"Anyway, I've caught myself rambling." Alyssius smiled again, not apologetic. "The whole reason I called you here is for a similar, but far advanced subject. Come." He gestured Carson on. They were now at the far end of the room, near a cluster of tanks filled with water. At first, Carson wasn't quite sure what was in the tanks. Most looked like machines with vaguely humanoid shapes.
"What are these?" he asked.
"Not so fast, gallivanter," Alyssius said with a charming smile. "I'm getting to it. Now, I'm sure you're curious why I seem to be interested in the field of magic? What would someone like me, with a history of dabbling into science, have need for the old ways?"
"Yes, I was intrigued by that," he said, crossing his arms.
"Well, I have for years been wondering and searching for my next big project; something just as big as that first one, only this time it will elevate me and the rest of the Haloes to heights higher than we ever could have imagined!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Carson saw the young girl and boy standing off, watching. Their ever shifting skin made them able to sneak around without notice so easily that he had forgotten that they were there.
"And then one day I...stumbled across something interesting. You see, I have never been a believer in the old ways, myself. A bunch of superstitions, I had said for years."
"Me too," Carson said, keeping one eye on the pair behind him.
Alyssius's eyes twinkled. "Ah, so you are on much the same path as I. You have seen the light as I have! Because when I came across magic, the real thing, there was no denying it. The power I was able to see in it...you can probably imagine, as you yourself trade in it."
"Yes, of course I do." They were edging around lies, and Carson had to be careful if he was to keep this guy's trust.
"And so you can imagine what I did then; I had to take advantage of the opportunity. This was it! My next project: magic."
"Magic?"
"Yes! Don't you see? For years people have chosen between magic and technology. No more, I say. Think of what we can accomplish if we blend the two together. Magic and science; the practical and the fantastical."
Carson's brain was trying to wrap around this. It sounded crazy.
Alyssius's face was bright, enigmatic. "You need proof, I see. Well, I will grant it to you." He gestured to the young girl and boy. "Apollo, Artemis." They came forward, their skin shifting. They smiled as Alyssius placed his hands on their shoulders. "You know of these two by now, but let me properly introduce you. Carson, these are my proteges. They were the first successes of my experiments.
The floor seemed to wobble beneath his feet. Carson tried to hide his expression of horror, covering it up with a charming smile. "Really?" He held out his hand, but the two just looked at him with those blinding smiles, blinking at his hand curiously.
Alyssius laughed. "They're not one much for...interaction, I'm afraid. But they are quite special. I've been working with these two for some time, and they've proven extremely helpful, being my eyes and ears around the city. You see, they can blend almost seamlessly into any setting. I'm sure you didn't notice then when I sent them to fetch you?"
"No, I didn't," Carson confessed, smiling faintly.
"Of course not. Their work is virtually flawless these days, though they do have a flare for dramatic entrances and exits." He looked down at the girl, Artemis, and she smiled slyly up at him.
Carson cleared his throat, trying to get a grasp on this without freaking out. "May I ask...how did you do it?"
There was a twinkle in Alyssius's eyes. "A magician never reveals his secrets. Nor a scientist for that matter. I imagine I would bore you with the details anyway, but I always admire a curious mind. You see, I came across these two several years ago."
He smiled down at the two with a softness on his face. "They were orphans, and as twins difficult to put up a successful adoption. The orphanages here try to keep siblings together, you know. And one day I just happened to find them and, well..." he flashed a sheepish smile. "I couldn't help it. I adopted them. I suppose I saw myself in them or something. And I had noticed extraordinary talent in them, another reason why they hadn't been adopted."
"And what might this talent be?" Carson asked. He was starting to feel sick; a headache pounded at his head, echoing words from a museum and a squire. He didn't believe in magic though. So why was all of this bothering him?
"They are both gifted with magic." He smiled proudly. "Yes, I had stumbled upon two warlocks, and twins no less. Over the years, we've been working to not only harness and nurture their abilities, but push them beyond anything their blessed ancestors ever dreamed of!"
"So...this is what a warlock...looks like?" he was straining to keep his composure.
Alyssius studied him. "You've never seen the practice of magic before, have you? Of course not, because then you would believe in them. Warlocks look just like you and me. Well..." he tapped the metal plate on the back of his head jokingly. "But they cannot be distinguished from mere mortals by looks alone. No, these two have been improved from warlocks. I'm not fully sure what to name them yet, not until I find more like them and can come out with more successes."
You mean when you can mutilate more children, Carson thought, holding in a shudder. But he tried to twist his features into delighted curiosity. "Fascinating. And what does this have to do with my trade?"
"I'm glad you asked." Alyssius's eyes lit up. "Artemis, Apollo, you may return to your posts." The two slinked away. "If you will, turn your attention to the suspension tanks."
The tank they were facing was dark, the vaguely humanoid shape just a shadow floating in the water. Carson recoiled internally, hoping it was not another 'improved' warlock. But then Alyssius pressed a button on the screen next to the tank and the whole thing lit up with florescent lights. Through the clear water was a robot, shaped like a human, but clearly having exposed wires and gears. Carson frowned in confusion.
"Robots have been slowly integrating into our culture here on Isphodel. I'm quite fond of them myself; efficient, reliable, and you don't have to pay for their service, just repair or replacement. But of course, I believe there is yet more potential in these creations."
"And you're going to use magic to achieve that," Carson guessed.
Alyssius's eyes gleamed. "If you weren't already a devoted gallivanter, I might think you a scientific like myself."
Carson smiled faintly. "So, what is it you need exactly?"
He scrutinized his work. "Working with Artemis and Apollo, I used technology to enhance their own magic. This next project is virtually the exact opposite; instead of ingraining technology into magic, we'll insert magic into technology."
"And what exactly will that do?"
The brightness on Alyssius's face was terrifying. "I have no idea."
Carson's eyes widened against his will. "Isn't that - "
"Dangerous?" he asked. "Perhaps. But that's what science is. Taking risks, pushing boundaries, testing limits. I have no use for those hesitant to learn." He raised an eyebrow at Carson. "But maybe your voice of reason is smart. Well, I have a few notes." He gestured to the table with a mechanical arm. "I've found bits of magic here and there, and it's proved interesting in my experiments. I expected little; strength, more accuracy in carrying out orders perhaps. But what actually happened was astounding." He fixed the gallivanter with look that bordered on maniacal. "The ability to be able to pick out magic. To track it."
Carson was trying to keep his breathing steady, trying to stay sane, but there were voices all around him; a princess telling him about a planet that was dying, a squire who seemed pained every time he talked about his people and their association with magic.
This was wrong. Magic wasn't meant to be manipulated and warped so that it hunted it's own kind.
And that's when Carson realised; he believed in magic.
"...So you can imagine my delight when I found out about a gallivanter wandering around the galaxies, harboring magic to sell." Carson hadn't even realized that Alyssius was still talking.
"Oh. Yeah. Small universe." He smiled, hoping that Alyssius couldn't see him shaking.
The man scrutinized him, but smiled. "So what I need is really any form of magic you have, but it has to be directly from a warlock. I've tried mere good luck charms and things; they don't have enough trace of the original source. Do you have anything like that?" He started to reach for Carson's bag.
As if he were in another body that wasn't his own, Carson flinched.
Alyssius stopped. "Are you quite alright, friend?"
"No."
He blinked. "No?"
Carson knew what he was about to do was crazy, and he might die or something worse - he glanced at Apollo and Artemis - but he just couldn't let this man continue to pervert magic. "It isn't right, what you're doing. Magic isn't meant to be put under a microscope and tampered with like some science project. It's meant for those who have it, and to be free."
Alyssius's face seemed to fall ever so slightly, disappointed, but then it hardened. His clenched his outstretched hand. "I knew it. You're just like the others. Purists, who think the old ways should stay old. You're the enemies of science and the future."
Carson stared firmly at the man whom he was now sure was insane. "Let me go in peace, Alyssius. And I'll forget you and your twisted interests."
The man withdrew, a look of vile contempt on his face. He merely inspected the fingers of his metal hand. "Apollo, Artemis? Take care of this non-believer."
And Carson had a split second before the twins advanced on him, bright teeth flashing, and then pain exploded in his head and he blacked out.