Echoes and Consequences: Part Four

Submitted by C B Wright on
Haruspex Analytics, Top Floor

The board room is designed to be subtly unsettling. It’s large and windowless, it appears to be circular, with a long table running up the middle of the room. Appearances are deceiving: it’s actually a slight oval, and the table is set slightly off kilter from the oval. People who don’t know the trick feel ever-increasing levels of anxiety as they subconsciously realize something is off but can’t identify what. Jason figured out the trick, so the room doesn’t put him off the way it did, once.

The Chairman, however… that’s a different story altogether.

The Chairman sits at the far end of the table, his features concealed in darkness. He stares down at a mission brief—Jason’s—and reads in silence. Jason stands at the other end of the table, not daring to sit, and waits patiently for him to finish.

As always, Jason finds himself trying to catch a glimpse of the older man’s face. As always, he fails. All he sees beyond the thick head of silver hair styled in a classic executive haircut is one furrow at the top of the man’s forehead, and then his face is cloaked in shadow. Jason wonders yet again at how the lighting in the room is arranged in order to achieve that effect. There are no obvious customizations to the room lighting that he can see.

Maybe it’s not the room. Maybe it’s him.

Echoes and Consequences: Part Three

Submitted by C B Wright on
Thorpe Island, Recovery Room

David Bernard lies in a recovery room in the medical facility on Robert Thorpe’s private floating island. This means, among other things, that he is currently hooked up to some of the most sophisticated diagnostics and monitoring equipment the world has never seen—so advanced that the phrase hooked up to is inaccurate, because the sensors that monitor his vital signs don’t require human contact to function. The only equipment physically attached to the man is an IV bag. Everything else is remote.

Artemis LaFleur sits in a padded chair next to Bernard, staring at a monitor, frowning deeply. He has the utmost faith in Dr. Thorpe’s equipment—it far surpasses anything he could have designed—but the readings don’t make any sense.

Echoes and Consequences: Part Two

Submitted by C B Wright on
Thorpe Island, Robert Thorpe's Office

Robert Thorpe sits alone in his office, studying the information scrolling past his screen. Digital forensic teams have been going through all the data collected from the underground facility in Farraday City, and they've been forwarding him the most interesting bits all day.

And they are interesting. But they're not coherent—not yet. At the moment Robert's juggling, keeping each piece of information in the air until he can find the pattern that makes it fit. Very little fits at the moment, which is to be expected. They're working with incomplete data.

He rubs his eyes and leans back in his chair, reaching for the ceramic mug sitting on the edge of his desk. It's still warm enough to be tolerable, so he drinks, occasionally rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand.


“Yes, Robert.” The computer with the voice of his dead friend replies promptly.

“How are our guests?”

“Agents Grant, Hu, and Travers are comfortably settled in their quarters. Agent Grant is also exploring this facility. He is also walking along North Beach, throwing rocks into the water. He's also drinking at Donovan's Pub and Kitchen.”

Robert smiles slightly.

Echoes and Consequences: Part One

Submitted by C B Wright on

David Bernard stands on the cracked stone floor of an open dojo in the middle of an endless grassy plain. A warm wind blows, carrying with it the smell of dry soil. The sky is clear and blue, and the sun shines hot on his face and neck.

It’s a simple dream, one he used often when he was trying to learn staff fighting. He’s not sure why he’s dreaming it now: it wasn’t by choice, which makes the setting unusual.

When he dreams spontaneously about a specific location, it’s usually about something he has an attachment to—the house he grew up in, the Sky Commando Unit, places like that—not a random set he constructed for his own amusement. He has no emotion invested in this place. There’s no reason for him to be here.