Wormhole Cultivation [Book 2] - Chapter 19: Overkill (Patreon)

Looked like Marco wasn't going to make any real money today. She herself had gone still in her interface, worry written across her face. The cafe started emptying fast. Some people got up straight away and left without finishing their coffee. Some decided to finish their drink first. The girls Bao and I had waved at vanished among the first.

"Well then," Bao pushed his cup away. "I suppose the celebration's cancelled."

"Like hell it is!" I said, and closed the thread on the forum. "This might be our last celebration for a while. Any minute now Johansson's going to call you, Novak's going to call me, and Bursala's going to call Zola, and it'll all kick off…

"Before that," I raised my latte. "To you and your breakthrough."

Bao smiled uncertainly, Zola snorted, but we clinked our cups together all the same.

Still, the mood was spoiled, the conversation didn't flow, and our thoughts kept drifting to what was coming. We split up quickly, without our usual parting jokes. Bao said he was going to sleep, that he still hadn't caught up on rest after the breakthrough. Zola muttered something about Diana, and I didn't bother saying anything at all.

I wanted to know more about the situation, and I knew exactly the person who'd be in the loop.

I didn't much fancy bothering him without reason, but I called Novak anyway.

He didn't answer straight away, and when he did, his voice came out clipped, as if he were doing several things at once. "Jake, keep it brief, please."

"Wanted to swing by for a tea-meeting," I said. "Nothing planned in the near future?"

"I genuinely don't have time to reassure you right now. You'll have to manage on your own. Especially since you've managed well enough before."

Though my master's voice was as measured as ever, I caught a thread of anger in it. Something wasn't going his way.

"You know it's information I need, not reassurance," I said. "Especially if you're about to hurl me headfirst into some mess in the near future."

"You've grown bolder," he noted approvingly.

"Thank you, sir. I should point out that the information could be critical for carrying out an assignment," I added.

"And for your survival, I suspect?" the anger had entirely vanished from his voice, replaced by a hint of a smile. "Don't worry, there's no assignment, and none's planned. You're staying on Verdis. Your time hasn't come yet."

"That's already a fairly valuable piece of information!" I said. "Thank you. Anything else I ought to know?"

This time Novak laughed outright.

"No, you don't. Focus on your own work and try to stay out of trouble for a while. I won't have much room to influence the situation, since all my resources will be tied up elsewhere."

"I see…" I said, drawing the word out.

Novak caught the shift in my tone at once.

"Jake?" his own shifted to match. "Have you already got yourself into something?"

"Not me, sir. My boss tried to pin the incident on the toothies, when the real fault lay with another technician. Johansson already knows and is handling it."

"Johansson might also be tied up in the near future… Try not to escalate this beyond what's necessary," he asked.

A very, very bad feeling came over me after those words.

"If it's up to me alone, sir. Am I supposed to throw the toothies under the bus?"

Novak paused. Sounded like he had a bad feeling of his own.

"They're definitely not at fault?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then hold your ground, protect your reputation. But gently!"

"I'll try, sir."

"Right…" Novak said, in the tone of a man who trusted me not at all. "Just not tomorrow, Jake, if you can help it."

"I said I'd try!" I protested, quite sincerely.

Novak sighed and hung up.

The whole evening, and even the following morning, the feeling of trouble wouldn't leave me alone, though I went to work with high hopes that Jonson would be too busy and I'd slip through unnoticed.

News of the wormhole activation had already spread to everyone, and even the toothies looked uneasy. Still, nobody bothered me before lunch.

After lunch, I got a message from Jonson. Short and imperious: "My office. Now."

I didn't drag my feet. Jonson was sitting behind his desk with his hands neatly folded. Not a trace of that fake smile he'd worn while dumping the toothies on me. His face was calm, almost formal — the expression of a man about to say something carefully thought through and rehearsed.

"Sit," he said.

I sat, not taking my eyes off him.

"The technician who ignored the system's warnings will be disciplined," Jonson began, without any preamble. "A reprimand, a fine, possibly a transfer. The investigation confirmed your version of events."

"Glad to hear it," I said, though his tone suggested it was too early to be glad.

Jonson nodded. "But I want you to understand something broader than this one particular case, Sullivan." He leaned forward slightly. "The demons have activated the wormhole and sent through a probe. They're already breathing down our necks!"

Jonson fell silent, letting the weight of the words sink in.

He might have been waiting for a reaction, but none came, and the pause dragged on, losing its drama.

"At a moment like this, we can't afford to trust outsiders. Any of them. No matter how politely they behave."

"I don't trust," I said. "Not just outsiders. My circle of trust is extremely narrow."

Jonson nodded again.

"We got off on the wrong foot," he said. "But we're in the same boat. It would be better for all of us if you officially confirmed your charges' unsuitability for further service. The wording can be softened. 'Insufficient reliability during a crisis period' sounds perfectly neutral."

"Throw the toothies under the bus," I clarified.

"I'm suggesting you show a bit of foresight," Jonson spread his hands, as though doing me a favour.

"Is that a threat?" I asked, genuinely puzzled, since it hadn't sounded like one.

"Not in the slightest! Consider it a favour. I'd owe you one."

"Owe me?" I smiled. "As your predecessor used to say, they don't take idiots into portal engineering. I wouldn't count on the gratitude of a man I've already had a conflict with, and who's tried to set me up." I was smiling openly now. "You could've at least offered me a bribe, for decency's sake!"

Jonson's face froze right on the edge of twisting into fury.

"I know who your master is. I know you sold off some of your Federation materials at a handsome profit," he said. "For all my goodwill, I couldn't offer you anything nearly as valuable. But my gratitude is worth something too."

"Perhaps," I said. "But my reputation is worth more."

Jonson's jaw tightened, his tone turning colder and drier. "Then consider this an official notice. You're suspended from your duties." Jonson reached for his tablet and tapped a few buttons.

I didn't answer right away, giving myself a second to hide my surprise.

"Do specify the grounds, if you'd be so kind."

"Negligent conduct in the workplace," Jonson tapped a few more, swiped, and turned the tablet towards me, showing the document.

"Can't say I recall doing any such thing," I said.

"You just demonstrated it. Excessive trust in charges of non-human origin, in violation of current security protocols during a crisis."

"Is that so?" I raised my eyebrows. "And will the Order agree with that wording?"

"The Order, you know, is a bit busy right now with matters more important than complaints about personnel decisions," he said, though the confidence he'd started the conversation with had already drained from his voice. "Unless you resort to nepotism again."

I burst out laughing.

You'd need a fair bit of nerve to accuse me of nepotism while abusing your own position to satisfy your personal grudges.

But I wasn't going to escalate anything right now. Suspension meant less work, more training time. Exactly what I needed at the moment. I'd simply file a complaint against him and go train.

My interface buzzed just as I was halfway up out of my chair. An incoming call from Napo.

That wasn't good. Too well-timed.

I took the call, straightening up, but without looking away from Jonson.

"Boss," Napo's voice came out tense, "a couple of junior technicians from the shift are openly looking for trouble here. They've already suited up in armour and drawn weapons."

I glanced sideways at Jonson's tablet. No message had dropped into my interface. No official document, no order had appeared before my eyes.

He hadn't been signing an order, he'd been giving the signal for a provocation!

"You son of a bitch!" I said, staring Jonson straight in the eye. "Take your armour off, if you've already put it on. Even if they start breaking or cutting your arms off — take it. Don't retaliate."

"Boss, this is…" Napo started.

Enunciating every word separately, I promised: "I will personally break, cut, or maim those bastards twice as badly as anything they manage to do to you! Pass that on word for word," I added, still staring at Jonson. "And whoever's been putting them up to it doesn't scare me. I keep my word, and I pay my debts!"

I ended the call and got fully to my feet, turning towards the door.

"I didn't dismiss you," Jonson said, rising and letting that same fake smile spread back across his face.

"Then try and stop me!" I threw over my shoulder, taking a step towards the exit.

I didn't think he'd actually dare, but two thin vines instantly wrapped round my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides and my legs together. I stumbled and began to fall, unable to do a thing about it.

The floor rushed up towards my face, and I closed my eyes, tensing my neck and performing the Monkey with my forehead. The blast lifted me back upright, and spun me to face Jonson as well.

He looked surprised, but he didn't let go of the vines snaking out of his sleeves.

"Are you actually fucking serious?" I asked him.

"I'm not harming you," he shrugged. "Just restraining you from a rash action. You seemed to be threatening someone through your interface."

"You know exactly who I was threatening, and why."

"No idea," he smiled. "Calm down, tell me everything. Not that you've got much of a choice in your current position."

The bastard had done a fine job binding my arms so I couldn't move them at all, so any destructive technique would be aimed straight back at my own body. And the vines, thin as they felt, were rigid as steel wire.

I should've started working on my Space technique upgrades earlier. I could really have used them right now.

Anyway, Kate was right, I should act rather than plan.

I simply had no other choice, if I wanted to salvage what was left of my reputation. And well, I could always blame the injuries on this bastard. One way or another, I'd fight, and I'd make him pay.

I focused and performed a Misty Step to the right. My body dissolved into mist, and the vines closed on nothing but themselves.

I was free as Jonson's jaw, over which he'd lost all control. It hung slack, and he himself stood there, frozen, processing what had just happened.

If he'd been prepared, he should have had a defensive formation ready too. I wasn't taking any chances. I monkeyed in closer and grabbed his arm, to re-establish the link between us, then landed an almost point-blank Hook square on that hanging jaw. Not the Cutting Hook, so as not to kill him, but my fist went numb from the close detonation regardless.

Jonson's jaw shattered into fragments of bone, teeth, and flesh. He himself dropped like a felled tree. An unnaturally long, blood-soaked tongue flopped out onto the floor, leaving even me standing frozen over what had just happened.

Oops.

Seemed I'd overdone it.

I'd hit him like he was wearing a helmet. Should've held back.

Novak was going to be furious.