![\"image.png\"](\"https:\/\/steemitimages.com\/0x0\/https:\/\/files.steempeak.com\/file\/steempeak\/cheah\/4vMJs2xy-image.png\")
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Nobody fucks with the Guild of the Maker.<\/p>\n
As the team flew back to the island, Wood reviewed what the STS knew about the Guild. It wasn\u2019t a pretty picture.<\/p>\n
The Singularity Network was obsessed with transcending the human form through cybernetics and with creating the hardware and software needed to upgrade the Will of the Net into a full-fledged Deus Ex Machina. The Guild took that same obsession and applied it\u00a0everywhere<\/em>.<\/p>\n Construction, biochemistry, cybernetics, weaponry, the Guild had members in every industry, driven to build and build and build. To them, the act of creation was an act of worship. Building things, inventing new things, discovering the processes that enabled creation, these were the supreme pillars of the faith. Unlike the Sinners, the Guild had a god. A god who listened.<\/p>\n Every so often, the Maker touched the most pious of his believers, inspiring them to feverish heights of genius and insanity. The Elect of the Maker secluded themselves in workshops and laboratories and factories, working day and night to manifest their vision of the divine, the Maker in the machine. Some burned out, died or went insane. Those who survived produced works of irreproducible and incomparable genius.<\/p>\n Godtech.<\/p>\n Wood had no doubt the Guild would haul out their godtech for this op. They knew the STS were in play, and everyone knew the STS had psis and Elect in their employ. Once the STS was on the case, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The Guild wouldn\u2019t dare to snatch Santiago so boldly unless they were confident they could withstand the inevitable retaliation.<\/p>\n Already Wood saw the gist of the Guild\u2019s plan. Karim, his eyes closed, manipulated his laptop, adding more details to the tactical map. The Guild had taken Santiago to an isolated house in the northern swamps of Moreno Island, so deep and so old it wasn\u2019t registered any map. Karim had to draw in the house himself, and the subjects on site.<\/p>\n There were a lot of them.<\/p>\n The house was sited in a clearing by a river. No cover, no concealment, just clean arcs of fire for a hundred meters all around. Two men patrolled the outer perimeter of the house. Four cameras ringed the roof. A small berth granted access to the river, and a third guard stood watch here, protecting a pair of large boats. A fourth guard hung around a nearby generator.<\/p>\n Karim peered through the walls of the house and drew a floor plan. The house had two floors. There were eight more subjects scattered across the rooms of the first floor, all armed or positioned close to their weapons. The upper floor was a single large room, likely an attic, and there were three more subjects here.<\/p>\n \u201cSantiago is in the attic,\u201d Karim said. \u201cHe\u2019s strapped to a chair of some kind and wired up to banks of computers. I don\u2019t know what they are, but they don\u2019t look good.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMachine interrogation?\u201d Fox offered.<\/p>\n \u201cHas to be,\u201d Connor said. \u201cThey know what we can do. They\u2019re rushing against the clock and they won\u2019t have time for niceties. They\u2019ll wring Santiago dry and dump him.\u201d<\/p>\n Machine interrogation. Wood suppressed a shudder. Every STS operator knew how to resist torture inflicted by human hands. But machines burrowed into your brain and dug out your deepest secrets, willingly or not, and there was no real defense against it. Short of going mad.<\/p>\n \u201cAll this is assuming the Guild doesn\u2019t have godtech that lets them fool Galen\u2019s eyes,\u201d Tan said.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not possible,\u201d Mustafa replied. \u201cNothing can.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe New Gods are in play,\u201d Yamamoto said. \u201cNever discount the impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n This was not a job for one team. The Black Watch had to make it work anyway.<\/p>\n Yamamoto had argued long and hard for more manpower. But Nova Babylonia was acting up again, and the STS\u2019 ready teams were deployed all over the country, chasing a sudden crop of Husks. There was no one else left who could help out. No one who could return to HQ, re-equip and head back out in time. They had to do this by themselves.<\/p>\n They were the Black Watch. They would make it work.<\/p>\n Fox and Tan infiltrated the area ahead of the team. Setting up across the river, they covered the rear of the house, he with his spotting scope, she with her antimaterial rifle.<\/p>\n The rest of the team, plus the drone, set down their gravcar three miles away from the objective. Dressed in chameleon camouflage, they made their way through the forest in the orange blaze of the setting sun.<\/p>\n As the first shadows of the night descended, the entry team arrived at the woodline, their line of departure. The operators formed up in a skirmish line, the crawler and Connor on the left, Wood at the rightmost position, hugging the earth. Slowly, deliberately, Wood settled into a shooting position, taking up his carbine.<\/p>\n Under the faint starlight, he could just about make out the two men on patrol. They maintained a separation of about twenty meters, far enough that a single bullet or burst wouldn\u2019t take them both, and they held their rifles low and easy.<\/p>\n The house they guarded sat fifty meters away. Faint white light poured out from behind heavy curtains. No shadows, no movement, not yet. Off to the right-hand side, there was a small outhouse. To the left, illuminated by glowsticks, was a softly humming generator. Wood just barely made out a tiny squatting figure.<\/p>\n It looked simple, but nothing was ever simple when the New Gods were involved. They could have electronic warfare equipment on site, ready to detect, jam and hack wireless tech. While the radios used secure burst transmissions to minimize the possibility of intercept, modern conveniences like augmented reality data feeds would create an unacceptably large electromagnetic signature.<\/p>\n They had to do this the old fashioned way.<\/p>\n \u201cZT, Samurai. In position,\u201d Yamamoto whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cSamurai, ZT. Copy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSITREP?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Boat is still by the boats, facing outwards. Powerboy is squatting by the generator. I think he\u2019s resting his legs. No activity on the objective.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRoger. Deadeye, you have Powerboy. ZT, you take Mister Boat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAcknowledged,\u201d Fox said. \u201cScope is hot.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cZT copies. Sights are hot.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRoger that. Break. I have eyes on two armed subjects patrolling the perimeter. The one in front has a hat, the other one does not. Designate the first target as Hatter, designate the second as Baldy. Farmer, you have Baldy. The bot will take Hatter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAcknowledged,\u201d Wood whispered.<\/p>\n Reaching up, he turned on his weapon-mounted night vision sight and found his target. Wood cranked up the zoom to 4x. Baldy wasn\u2019t bald, he simply had very short hair, but that was immaterial. Wood adjusted his sights, leading the crosshair just a mite ahead of his target\u2019s temple.<\/p>\n \u201cFarmer, on target,\u201d Wood whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cBot, on target,\u201d Yamamoto reported. \u201cExecute on my mark,\u201d Yamamoto said. \u201cThree. Two. One. Mark.\u201d<\/p>\n Wood pressed the trigger.<\/p>\n Four long guns spoke as one. Two muffled thunderclaps, two softer booms.<\/p>\n Baldy\u2019s face exploded in a riot of blood. Scanning, Wood saw Hatter sprawled on the mud, his face burst open.<\/p>\n \u201cBaldy down,\u201d Wood said.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Boat down,\u201d ZT reported.<\/p>\n \u201cPowerboy down,\u201d Fox said.<\/p>\n \u201cHatter down,\u201d Yamamoto said. \u201cGo for Cobra.\u201d<\/p>\n That was Mustafa\u2019s cue to rise to a knee and bring his multiple grenade launcher to bear.<\/p>\n \u201cSmoke out!\u201d Mustafa called.<\/p>\n Six loud cracks ripped out the night. Six small objects streaked through Wood\u2019s sight and plopped somewhere in the grass.<\/p>\n \u201cMillimeter radar active!\u201d Yamamoto reported. \u201cGo loud!\u201d<\/p>\n Wood switched on his C4I suite. The bot fed its sensor take to Wood\u2019s smartglasses. Red and yellow figures scrambled inside the house. The yellow ones were unarmed but unknown; the red ones were carrying weapons. On the ground floor, clusters of yellow figures flashed red. On the upper floor, two of the three yellows turned red.<\/p>\n Long bursts roared to Wood\u2019s left. Connor was laying down the hate with his machine gun. In the distance, Fox fired her antimaterial rifle, the heavy 12.7mm rounds blasting through the walls to strike down targets.<\/p>\n The rest of the entry team opened up, loosing a furious fusillade of steel. Wood aimed at a red figure on the lower floor and ripped off two quick rounds. Switched to another, fired another double-tap. Third target, two more rounds. Fox fired once, twice, and suddenly the two red figures on the second floor vanished.<\/p>\n Tendrils of thick hot smoke played across Wood\u2019s weapon sight. He kept up the fire, switching to a fresh magazine, firing on all the red figures he saw. They had all flattened themselves against the floor, dead or incapacitated, he didn\u2019t know, he didn\u2019t care, better safe than sorry.<\/p>\n As the smoke grew thicker, the team stepped down the fire, reducing their cadence to a more sustainable pace. Heat haze blurred out Wood\u2019s optics. He slowed down, taking an extra moment to confirm the general vicinity of his target before firing again.<\/p>\n \u201cGo for Python!\u201d Yamamoto ordered.<\/p>\n Wood reached up and activated his smartglasses.<\/p>\n \u201cMoving up!\u201d Wood shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cMove!\u201d Mustafa called.<\/p>\n Picking himself up, Wood sprinted across the empty ground. Small fires crept across the grass, illuminating the smoke from within. The team continued firing, pumping bullets into windows and walls and the main door.<\/p>\n Still no movement from within.<\/p>\n Wood planted himself at the right-hand corner of the house and peeked around the corner. No threats. He rounded the corner and planted himself against the bullet-riddled wall.<\/p>\n \u201cSet!\u201d Wood called.<\/p>\n \u201cMoving!\u201d Mustafa shouted.<\/p>\n One by one, the rest of the entry team lifted fires and sprinted across the Wood\u2019s position. Mustafa, Yamamoto, then Connor last of all, lining up next to Wood. The bot stayed where it was, providing overwatch.<\/p>\n There were no doors on this side of the house. Just a single large window. The operators formed up around it, taking a moment to recharge their weapons. In Woods\u2019 eyes they were blurry wraiths; on his smartglasses they were bright blue silhouettes, courtesy of the bot\u2019s radar.<\/p>\n \u201cGimme my \u2018hawk,\u201d Connor whispered.<\/p>\n Wood reached under Connor\u2019s chameleon cloak, unsheathed the tomahawk mounted on the operator\u2019s pack and placed it in his waiting hand. Angling off, Connor raised the axe high and swung.<\/p>\n Glass shattered under the terrific blow. As the rest of the operators covered him, Connor kept swinging, breaking the rest of the glass. With the flat of the tomahawk, he cleared away the remaining shards. He stepped aside and Yamamoto peeked in.<\/p>\n \u201cClear,\u201d Yamamoto whispered.<\/p>\n Mustafa climbed in. As Wood reattached the tomahawk, Yamamoto followed Mustafa. Then it was Connor\u2019s turn, and finally Wood\u2019s.<\/p>\n The team swept the room, taking to the walls and corners. They were in a living room, with bullet-riddled sofas arranged around a shattered holotable. Metal fumes filled the air. Four men lay sprawled across the floor, weapons close to hand.<\/p>\n But something was wrong with this picture. Furrowing his eyes, Wood took a second look.<\/p>\n None of the men were wounded.<\/p>\n As one, the four men sat up and spun towards the operators.<\/p>\n They can see us through chameleon camouflage!<\/em><\/p>\n Wood snapped his carbine to the closest man\u2019s face and fired a double-tap. Blazing blue-white light flared in the room. Something whined past his ear.<\/p>\n The Tango grinned and raised his carbine.<\/p>\n \u201cGODTECH!\u201d Wood yelled.<\/p>\n Twisting sharply, he threw himself off the line of fire and punched out his carbine with both hands. Metal clashed against metal. The gunman\u2019s arm veered off and his weapon roared, the heat of the muzzle blast scorching Wood\u2019s forearm. Sinking low, Wood slammed the butt of his weapon into the man\u2019s thigh.<\/p>\n The Tango yelled and stumbled. Wood flicked the buttstock up, felt polymer crash against his chin, then rammed the stock into his chest. The gunman staggered away, bumped against a sofa, and rolled on his back. Wood leveled his carbine and fired.<\/p>\n The invisible forcefield flashed. The bullet whined off. The gunman pointed his weapon with one hand. Wood swatted it aside and rammed the muzzle into his throat. Once. Twice. Thrice. A fourth time, and Wood kept it there and pulled the trigger.<\/p>\n A muffled\u00a0BANG.<\/em><\/p>\n Blood.<\/p>\n Stepping aside, Wood scanned the room. Connor was busy putting the boot to a Tango, cursing as he went. Yamamoto stood up from a fallen threat, holding his signature short sword in his right hand, blood dripping down the blade.<\/p>\n Mustafa was rolling about on the floor, grappling with the last threat, limbs flailing, bumping everywhere. Wood stepped up, raising his boot\u2014<\/p>\n Blood jetted through the air.<\/p>\n A terrible liquid gurgling filled the room.<\/p>\n Mustafa extricated himself, kicking the dying man away, and picked himself up. His fingers were claws, his teeth were canines, and his eyes glowed a terrible ethereal gold.<\/p>\n Throwing back his head, Mustafa howled.<\/p>\n His uniform, his helmet, his weapon, everything he had on him melted into his body. His muscles bulged out, his arms and legs elongated, a thick coat of pure white fur rippled down his body, and his face compressed and shifted and extruded a snout and became the visage of a wolf.<\/p>\n Karim Mustafa was gone. Here was Galen the Wolf.<\/p>\n A team of men appeared at the doorway. Galen howled, bounded across the floor and crashed into them, driving them back in a flurry of flailing limbs.<\/p>\n Yamamoto raced through the doorway. Wood followed. Over Yamamoto\u2019s shoulder, he saw Galen pounding two men into the floor, one with each massively muscled fist. Two more gunmen slipped out to his right, ready to flank him.<\/p>\n Yamamoto bellowed a fearsome war cry, raised his sword and charged the Tangos still on their feet. The closer of the two spun to him and raised his weapon to block the blade.<\/p>\n Yamamoto drew in the blade and crouched.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Yamamoto lunged and stabbed him in the throat.<\/p>\n Wood jumped clear of Yamamoto, closing in on the last threat. Releasing his carbine, his right hand snaked down to his thigh, closed around the handle of his knife, wrenched it clear\u2014<\/p>\n The threat fired.<\/p>\n The round punched him in his chest plate. Then a second. And a third. Wood stumbled, all his breath gone, the energy fleeing his limbs. The last threat raised his weapon\u2014<\/p>\n Galen clawed his throat and smacked down the carbine.<\/p>\n The gunman\u2019s jaw dropped open in surprise. He froze in place, as though not quite comprehending what had happened. His left hand flew to his torn throat.<\/p>\n Wood sucked in a breath and push-kicked him in the belly.<\/p>\n The Tango flopped on the floor, spraying arterial blood everywhere. Wood hacked and coughed, trying to suck down more air. Galen howled, raised his claws and\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cAll clear,\u201d Yamamoto reported. \u201cGalen, stand down now.\u201d<\/p>\n The werewolf stared at Yamamoto. An eternity later, he nodded.<\/p>\n The wolf shrank. Unnatural flesh and bone transmuted into synthetic fabrics and polymers and metals. As the man returned, so did his kit. Karim Mustafa patted himself down, checking that the wolf god had returned his equipment, and gave Yamamoto a thumbs-up.<\/p>\n Taking up their weapons, the operators cleared the rest of the first floor. Nothing but empty rooms, sleeping bags, mounds of prepackaged foods and assorted trash, and the remains of eight soldiers of the Maker.<\/p>\n Bracing themselves, the team headed upstairs.<\/p>\n \u201cMy God\u2026\u201d Connor muttered. \u201cWhat the hell is this?\u201d<\/p>\n A naked man sat strapped to a chair in the middle of the attic, his head shorn. His eyes stared sightlessly at the men. His jaws opened and closed, his lips trembled, but no sound emerged from his mouth.<\/p>\n A pair of thick dark cables sprouted from sockets in his temples, snaking to a massive computer cabinet. More cables connected the cabinet to other machines, towers festooned with dials and blinking lights. A monitor on a case cycled through a surreal stream of images\u2014a party, a car crash, stars in a night sky, the Green Bliss, then a storm of random dots and dashes in all the colors of the rainbow. If there was meaning hidden in the last image, he didn\u2019t want to know what it was.<\/p>\n A dead man lay at the foot of the cabinet, the contents of his skull spilled across the floor. A second man lay by the prisoner\u2019s feet. The captive took no notice; he was still transfixed in unseen horror.<\/p>\n \u201cSTS,\u201d Yamamoto announced. \u201cAre you Antoine Santiago?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u2026\u201d Santiago whispered.<\/p>\n Connor walked up to him and waved his hand in front of his eyes. No response.<\/p>\n \u201cCan you see me?\u201d Connor asked.<\/p>\n \u201cSee\u2026 See? See? SEE?!\u201d he shouted. \u201cI SEE!\u201d<\/p>\n He buckled against the restraints. A machine beeped. He stiffened, and went still.<\/p>\n \u201cUnplug him,\u201d Yamamoto ordered.<\/p>\n Wood crossed the floor, wiped the blood from the computer cabinet, and tried to make sense of what he saw.<\/p>\n One screen showed his vital signs. Accelerated heartbeat, rapid breathing, and his brainwaves spiked and fluctuated unnaturally. Wood was no neuroscientist, but he was sure that wasn\u2019t healthy.<\/p>\n Another screen showed a control panel. Slider bars and drop-down boxes and dialog boxes filled the screen. All of them carried different captions: adrenaline, noradrenaline, oxytocin, dopamine, and other words he was less familiar with.<\/p>\n A third screen showed more windows: images, taste, odors, sensations, sounds, memories. All came with a bevy of options, some custom, some pre-set.<\/p>\n These machines were designed to manipulate Santiago\u2019s brain. His senses, his blood chemistry, his memories, every bit of him was left naked before the brain butchers of the Guild.<\/p>\n And there was no option to shut them down.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t turn it off!\u201d Wood shouted. \u201cThere\u2019s no option to do it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan you unplug him?\u201d Yamamoto called.<\/p>\n \u201cNegative! This thing is messing with his brain! We\u2019ll need a specialist to normalize his brain chemistry before we can safely remove him.\u201d<\/p>\n Connor swore vociferously. Mustafa just shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cAntoine, can you hear me?\u201d Yamamoto repeated.<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u2026\u201d Santiago said.<\/p>\n The word \u2018YES\u2019 flashed across the monitor.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n The monitor flashed \u2018NO\u2019.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m from the STS. Do you know what that is?\u201d<\/p>\n Images paraded through the screen. The PSB logo, then the STS\u2019. Black-clad men carrying heavy armor and long guns jumping out of vehicles, gravtrucks swooping from the sky, blazing guns, Husks, blood.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Santiago said.<\/p>\n \u201cI think the monitor is showing us his thoughts,\u201d Mustafa said.<\/p>\n \u201cInteresting\u2026\u201d Yamamoto muttered. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d Santiago shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re going to get help for you. But there\u2019s something we need to know.\u201d<\/p>\n No response.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you hear my last?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is Raul Santiago?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTemple.\u201d<\/p>\n A sprawling complex appeared on the screen. Wooden houses built on stilts by a river. Armed men in camouflage uniforms on patrol. Boats pulling up at berths, laden with crates. The Green Bliss.<\/p>\n \u201cIs it a temple to Aruk?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n Green.<\/p>\n A mass of green leaves. Hidden among the leaves were blood-red eyes. A nose bleeding a pair of tendrils. An open mouth spewing vegetation.<\/p>\n \u201cARUUUUUUUUUUUUK!\u201d Santiago screamed.<\/p>\n The operators startled. The monitor blinked. A storm of loud beeps reverberated in the room. The monitor turned green.<\/p>\n \u201cAruk,\u201d Santiago whispered.<\/p>\n The machines calmed. The beeping stopped. Wood blinked. But the monitor continued to show a solid green screen.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is the temple?\u201d Yamamoto asked.<\/p>\n \u201cSwamp. Near Hopton.\u201d<\/p>\n On the monitor, a river cut through a neverending forest. The temple complex lined the right side of the river bank.<\/p>\n \u201cShow me how to get to the temple from Hopton.\u201d<\/p>\n The screen played a video. First Wood saw a pile of crates covered in tarpaulin, gently bobbing up and down, stacked aboard a boat. An engine rumbled. Then the camera turned to the right, showing a man seated at a console.<\/p>\n This was a memory, replayed in first person.<\/p>\n The boat roared to life, racing through the waters. The resolution was fuzzy, but Wood could clearly see the boat twisting and turning down the winding river.<\/p>\n \u201cTake video,\u201d Yamamoto whispered.<\/p>\n Wood was already in motion. Setting down his pack, he produced a digital camera and took a video of the monitor. They\u2019d missed the first part, but they could get the replay later.<\/p>\n \u201cYou did good Antoine,\u201d Yamamoto said. \u201cWe\u2019ll get help for you. Just hang tight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay\u2026\u201d Santiago mumbled.<\/p>\n Wood took a final photo and shook his head. Santiago looked like he was beyond help. There was only one thing Wood could do for the broken wreck strapped to the chair.<\/p>\n See this through to the end.<\/p>\n —<\/p>\n Want more stories of high action and strong morals? Check out the Kickstarter for\u00a0HEROES UNLEASHED<\/a>\u00a0by Silver Empire!<\/p>\n
\n![\"Cheah](\"https:\/\/steemitimages.com\/0x0\/https:\/\/files.steempeak.com\/file\/steempeak\/cheah\/XrnWAhpf-CheahGitSanRed.jpg\")
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