Sunblind Serpent: The Zodiac Without A House

A burst of static came from the security officer’s radio. He immediately touched the receiver.

”Repeat.”

The driver slowed. The officer glanced once toward the rear doors.

”What happened?” the maintenance worker asked.

The officer raised one hand. Nobody spoke.

Static came through the radio again. Then a voice.

”—correctional breach confirmed near North Service Corridor. Multiple escaped detainees. Several Awakened. Avoid Sector Nine.”

The officer leaned toward the front. ”Which route are we on?”

”Eight.”

”Change it.”

The driver looked at the navigation screen. ”Route Ten is blocked.”

”Eleven?”

The driver tapped the screen twice. ”Doesn’t connect anymore.”

The student frowned. ”What does that mean?”

Marek looked toward him. ”It probably means the road is having another difficult evening.”

The student stared at him. ”You make jokes at very strange times.”

”It saves time later.”

The chemistry researcher turned toward the driver. ”What do you mean it doesn’t connect?”

”The map says Route Eleven continues south.”

”And?”

The driver pointed through the windshield. ”It doesn’t.”

Everyone looked.

They were still several blocks away from the intersection, but Marek could already see what the man meant. The elevated section of Route Eleven should have continued between two commercial districts.

Instead, it ended.

Not collapsed. Nor destroyed. It simply stopped.

The concrete road continued for several hundred meters before reaching an edge that looked almost clean from this distance. Beyond it was forest. Tall trees occupied the space where another district should have been.

The student leaned toward the narrow window. ”That wasn’t there.”

”No,” the maintenance worker said.

”How do you know?”

”I repaired ventilation systems in three buildings that used to be behind that road.”

The student looked toward the forest. ”Used to be?”

The man did not answer.

Marek understood why. Nobody knew whether those buildings had been destroyed. Moved. Separated. Or were still standing somewhere that no longer connected to them.

The officer looked toward the driver. ”Stay on Eight until North Junction. Turn south from there.”

”North Junction is near the detention complex.”

”I know.”

”The report said escaped detainees.”

”It said Sector Nine. We’re still outside Nine.”

The driver did not appear convinced. Neither did anyone else.

Another voice came through the radio. ”Convoy Three, be advised. Escaped detainees acquired weapons from transport security. Confirmed Taurus, Aries, Gemini, and unidentified manifestations.”

The chemistry researcher looked toward the officer. ”How many?”

”No confirmed number.”

”Armed?”

”Yes.”

”And Awakened?”

”Yes.”

The student leaned back against the wall. ”That seems unfair.”

The officer looked at him. ”What?”

”Criminals getting powers.”

”They were not given powers. They Awakened like everyone else,” Marek said.

The student looked at him again. ”That somehow makes it worse.”

”It usually does when probability is involved.”

The chemistry researcher frowned. ”What does that mean?”

”Nothing useful.”

The officer returned his attention to the radio. ”Control, Convoy Three. Confirm status of North Junction.”

Static. No answer.

He tried again. ”Control, Convoy Three.”

Nothing.

The driver looked toward him. ”Network’s dropping again.”

”Keep moving.”

The vehicle continued. Marek looked through the narrow side window.

Linden City had become increasingly difficult to recognize. Some streets remained almost normal. Streetlights still worked. Convenience stores still had illuminated signs. Cars remained parked along sidewalks exactly where their owners had left them.

Then the vehicle would pass another intersection and everything beyond it would be wrong. One side street ended in a rocky slope covered in wet vegetation. Another opened toward a stretch of dark water that should have been several kilometers from the city.

At one point, Marek saw the upper half of an office building in the distance.

Only the upper half.

The lower floors were hidden behind a ridge of unfamiliar black stone that now crossed through the district. The building itself appeared intact.

It was simply in the wrong environment.

The student noticed it too. ”How is that building still standing?”

Marek looked at it. ”I don’t think the building knows.”

”That was not helpful.”

”I wasn’t answering for the building.”

The chemistry researcher gave Marek a look. ”You really do this all the time?”

”What?”

”Answering like that.”

Marek thought about it and shrugged. ”I don’t know.”

The maintenance worker nodded. ”That means yes.”

Marek looked toward him. The man smiled slightly.

It was the first time Marek had seen him do that.

The convoy slowed again.

Ahead, several military vehicles had stopped near a temporary checkpoint. Portable barricades narrowed the road. Two soldiers stood beside a damaged sedan while another was speaking with a woman sitting on the pavement.

A pale Libra Mark surrounded one soldier’s wrists. Another soldier had a Taurus Mark, his chest glowing with golden light.

The Taurus soldier was holding the barricade with both hands.

Carefully. Very carefully.

The security officer beside Marek watched him.

The student followed his gaze. ”They really were taught already.”

”Yes,” Marek said.

The soldier adjusted the barricade by several centimeters. He stopped, then released it, and checked the metal.

Nothing bent.

The soldier seemed relieved.

The student looked toward Marek. ”Do you think they have one of those instructions for us now?”

Marek looked toward the security officer. ”Apparently.”

The officer did not turn around.

The student continued. ”Do not provoke.”

”Yes.”

”That isn’t really instruction for us.”

”No.”

”It’s instruction for everyone around us.”

”Yes.”

”That bothers me.”

”It should.”

The chemistry researcher looked down at the green scale on her arm. ”Maybe they know something we don’t.”

”That has happened several times tonight,” Marek said.

She looked toward him. ”You’re still thinking about Dr. Mercer.”

”And Meridian.”

The maintenance worker leaned forward. ”Your father too?”

Marek did not answer immediately. He watched the checkpoint pass through the window.

His father had worked around environmental monitoring. Sanitation infrastructure. Underground systems.

Project Meridian. Eleven years ago.

Now half the city seemed to contain equipment connected to the same project. Marek had spent years thinking there had simply been nothing left to find.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

”Yes,” he eventually said.

The maintenance worker nodded. He did not ask anything else.

Marek appreciated that.

The student, however, lasted approximately eight seconds. ”So what are you going to do?”

The chemistry researcher looked at him.

The student shrugged. ”What?”

Marek turned toward him. ”About what?”

”Your father.”

”I don’t know.”

”You just found out the project he worked on might be connected to all of this.”

”Yes.”

”And?”

”And I still don’t know anything.”

”So you’re going to investigate.”

Marek stared at him. ”You reached that conclusion by yourself?”

The student ignored the tone. ”You study forensic health.”

”Yes.”

”So investigating is basically your thing.”

”No.”

”What is your thing?”

”Mostly being given things in containers and determining whether they can kill someone.”