Ascent: Second Book of the Nameless Chronicle by M. T. Miller

Author:M. T. Miller
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2016-09-13T06:00:00+00:00

Interlude Four

“With respect, sir,” the sheriff greeted the Sun God as soon as the he entered the small room. “What the hell have you tasked me with?”

The place was, for lack of a better word, minimalistic. Besides a table, a large window, and a set of chairs facing it, there was nothing else. However, on the other side of the glass was a different story: a well-equipped hospital room, housing but one patient. He was so pale that his skin was almost blue, but the machines to the side insisted he was still alive.

“I came as soon as I heard,” the Sun God said, mostly disregarding the sheriff’s question. He approached a chair, sat, and made himself comfortable. “What has happened to him?”

“What hasn’t happened to him?” the sheriff said. Still up on his feet, he took a piece of paper from the table and started reading. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“From the point I told you to run him through your program, I suggest,” the Sun God said.

“Ah. Well, you see—” the sheriff stopped looking at the paper “—at first everything seemed perfect. Decent young man, from the look of things. Sure, perhaps a bit homicidal, but nobody’s perfect.”

“And you have a soft spot for those.”

“Heh. What can you do? Family is family.”

“Is it ever,” the Sun God said, understanding more than the sheriff would ever know. “Go on.”

“Well, he agreed to join my Crew. Do the jobs, live the life. Make this fine city an even finer place. But here’s the kicker: he had something he, and I quote, ‘had to do first.’”

“What could that possibly be?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘an Endurance match?’”.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I would,” the Sun God said. ‘Not as he was so long ago,’ eh, Tarantula?

“So, he insisted that he fight in it. I told him to do what he wanted.” As if he expected the Sun God to say something, the sheriff stopped for a moment. Then, after noticing a lack of reaction, he continued. “If you had told me to give him special treatment, I might have prevented it. But you didn’t, so I let him dig his own grave. So, our guy fought. Did great for a while, too. Then,” he pushed a photograph toward the Sun God. A strange-looking, purple-haired girl posed on it. “Rush, a recently downgraded third-floor tenant came in.”

The Sun God raised an eyebrow. “Is this going where I think it is?”

“Oh, it definitely is!” the sheriff nodded. “She beat the Jesus out of him! I’m talking fractured ribs, knocked-out teeth, the works.”

“Have you investigated this girl?” the Sun God asked.

“No need, I know exactly who she is,” the sheriff said. “I don’t have a picture here, but… remember Khalid Abadi? The chemist?”

“The one who improved our gruel production?” the Sun God said. “The genius?”

“The one and only!” the sheriff said. “Apparently, they came to this city together. One of the clauses in his contract was that I turn as much of a blind eye to her as I can.

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