Ascent

  Ascent:

  Second Book of the Nameless Chronicle

  by M. T. Miller

  Copyright © 2016. M. T. Miller

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author.

  For my own inner universe. Forever may it expand.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Ground Level: The Slums

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Interlude One

  Second Level: The Cages

  Five

  Interlude Two

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Third level: The Crew

  Interlude Three

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Interlude Four

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Interlude Five

  Nineteen

  Fourth Level: The Management

  Twenty

  Interlude Six

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Interlude Seven

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  There was not a bone in his body that didn’t hurt.

  Regardless, the Nameless forced himself to take one painful step after another. He was walking along the railroad tracks, the moon high above. He had barely slept a wink yesterday, and the consequences of that were evident in his every move. And then there was the other thing.

  The time I have taken is almost up. He wanted to ignore how weak he had become; gave his best to remain focused on the task of following the railway. The idea was simple: he would put every little piece of effort he could into reaching the Pyramid, and then everything would somehow work out. But things were not that straightforward in his mind, at least not anymore.

  Even if I somehow manage to get there under my own strength, what then? Even walking and breathing at the same time was slowly becoming a challenge. If he had to steal more time, to reap someone, how would he do it?

  He almost laughed at the thought. The image of a feeble, dying corpse-man failing to strangle someone to death would have been funny if it was happening to someone else. Luckily, he still had the revolver, so at the very least he would be able to spare himself some of the agony. Assuming, of course, that he could still hold the thing when the time came.

  Against his wishes, his gaze fell down on his feet, taking in another thing he wanted to ignore: the dried up blood of his friend that covered his boots. A cold shiver started working its way up his spine. No! I do not need this now! His hands, only slightly numb until a moment ago, started shaking. He gave them a quick glance. The hands of a killer. A mass murderer, to be exact.

  Doubt cast its shadow over the clarity he had been trying to cling to. The image of his last victim’s brains splattering all over the railway stones was still fresh in his memory, and it did not take a whole lot of reminding for it to flash before his eyes again. Despite his will, his body stopped moving. Questions broke through the mental block he had imprisoned them behind. What kind of monster was he? What was going to happen to him next? Did he even deserve to exist?

  The maelstrom within his mind kept getting more and more intense, culminating in an excruciating wave of pain bouncing between his temples. Unable to keep it inside, he fell to his knees, put his palms on the sides of his head, and began screaming uncontrollably.

  It hurt to yell. But keeping it all inside hurt even more, and once it started, the whole thing had to run its course. By the time he went silent, it was not due to a lack of desire to continue. It was due to a lack of air.

  How much time did I just waste? he asked himself as he took a deep, wheezing breath. Does it even matter?

  If he could, he would’ve slapped himself for daring to ask that question. Of course it mattered! The life he had taken a day ago was supposed to be put to proper use, and dying like this was anything but the proper use! But he was so lethargic he could barely even see, let alone walk for another day. More out of curiosity than dedication, he forced himself to lift his head up and look forward. What he saw was almost enough to give him hope. Somewhere, near the horizon, there were lights!

  Was that the Pyramid? It had to be. There was no more strength within him, no option left but to follow the railway. He had nothing to gain from wallowing in misery. I have almost missed a vital detail, lost as I was within my own mind. Focus!

  His hands stopped shaking. Slowly but surely, he tensed up every muscle in his body. Rise!

  It was not easy, but within a few moments he was up. Anything stronger than a slight breeze would bring him right back down again, but something was always better than nothing. With renewed determination, he forced himself to take a step forward.

  Where am I even going? he found himself asking.

  A reply came by itself: To find some answers. Anything more than that was beyond him, and dwelling on that question would most certainly slow him down even more. For the moment, he had to keep moving.

  One step at a time.

  Ground Level: The Slums

  Chapter One

  He had a good chance to inspect the Pyramid while he was approaching it. Given the insanity he had witnessed within the previous couple of days, the Nameless had been certain that he would never be surprised again. As had been the case so many times before, he was wrong.

  The structure was colossal in size, more akin to a closed-off city than a single building. It had been painted a gold hue, so it reflected its own light as well as that of the moon and stars. The open fields around it, cut only by scarce quantities of vegetation, appeared nothing short of otherworldly. Who would build something so strange?

  He enjoyed the view of the place almost as much as he hated the process of getting to it. Devoid of all feeling, his feet dragged on the ground as he walked. His vision kept getting narrower and narrower with each passing minute, and he struggled to keep his head up. That was unpleasant, but it was better than losing sight of his objective. As far as I know, this spectacle is the only thing that keeps me from falling unconscious.

  The structure-city did not have a fence, nor anything resembling barricades. What it did have, however, was a whole lot of armed guards. Dressed in plain grey uniforms, the men swarmed all around it. The precise nature of the weaponry they brandished was unknown to the Nameless, but the things mostly looked like rifles. Black, angular, and ugly rifles, as a matter of fact.

  “Stop right there!” one of the men was quick to exclaim while the Nameless was still more than a hundred feet away. The others raised their rifles momentarily. Once the Nameless stopped advancing, the guard asked, “Can you understand what I am saying?”

  Why would I not? Having not spoken in a while, the Nameless coughed to clear his throat before he shouted back, “Indeed I can! I seek refuge within the Pyramid!” His voice was weak and coarse, and it was difficult to say it all in one breath.

  “Lower your weapons, men!” the guard answered, somewhat surprised. To the Nameless he said, “The way
you moved, we were almost certain you were one of the walking dead! As for your request, we’ll talk once you get closer! Proceed!”

  Finally, someone who is not insane. Now that he had stopped moving, the Nameless found it exceedingly difficult to do so again. Nevertheless, he forced his way forward, one aching tendon at a time. He did not say anything while he advanced. Every little shred of vigor would be absolutely necessary later on.

  “This place,” he said when he got close. “It looks like nothing I have seen before. Can you tell me who built it? When?”

  “Beats me. I only work here,” the guard said. “You said you wanted shelter? Well, you’re not the only one. But here’s the catch, we don’t let just everybody inside. Sorry, chief, but them’s the ropes!”

  Horace did say that the place was difficult to get into. “Whom do you let inside, then?”

  “It all comes down to… Say, before I get to that, mind telling me what’s with you? You don’t look good at all.” The man’s eyes quickly raced over the Nameless’ face, body, and bloody boots. He seemed especially interested in the last detail.

  “I am malnourished, deprived of sleep, and have suffered a severe beating recently! Hence the need for lodgings,” the Nameless said, his patience leaving him.

  “Hey, hey, easy there!” The talkative guard tapped his weapon lightly, more to remind the stranger of its existence than out of any malice. “I’d be a bit more polite if I were you. And to answer your question, you need money to get inside. More than you’ve ever seen in your life, I bet!” The other guards chuckled at his remark.

  They either find my lack of knowledge on the matter amusing, or genuinely enjoy turning people down. The Nameless could not tell which was worse. Regardless, he raised his right arm so they could see it, and slowly let it slip inside one of the pockets of his coat. Then, to their surprise, he pulled out one of the card-like things he had taken from the Skulls’ late leader.

  “Is this enough?” he asked in a way that was anything but respectful.

  The guard’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be… Yeah, it’ll be more than enough!”

  Immediately, he gestured for the others to move to the side and let the Nameless through. Then, with a smile on his face, he extended his right hand. “The blue credit chip. I’ll be taking it. The others will hand you your change. Also, I have to ask: do you have any weapons on you?”

  A stupid question. The Nameless considered his answer for as long as he could without arousing suspicion. He chose sincerity. There was no way he was going to sneak anything by so many armed people. “Of course I have weapons! How else is one supposed to survive out there?” he said, right when the guard’s expression was about to change for the worse.

  “But you are no longer out there, friend. Starting today, you are a proud citizen of Babylon! And here in Babylon, we don’t let anyone enter with weapons on their person. I’m sure you can understand why.”

  “Of course I do. I… I have a revolver, some bullets, and a metal pole with a sharp point at one end. Are you going to take all of it?”

  “I’m afraid so. Hand them over, then spread your legs and let these two check if there’s anything you chose not to run by me.” A pair of guards let their rifles hang from their shoulders and started closing in.

  I had wanted to keep these. A damn shame. Regardless, the Nameless did exactly as he was instructed. Then, just a moment before the two men were about to frisk him, he signaled for them to wait for a second, pulled a knife out of his boot and let it fall on the ground. “I apologize. I seem to have forgotten about this.”

  “Yeah, I bet you did,” someone said.

  Finding no trace of other weaponry on him, the men gestured their approval, and the talkative guard shouted to the others, “This one is good to go! Move to the side and let him pass! Yeah, and give him two purple chips and a red one!”

  Without a word the Nameless passed them by, took his change, and proceeded toward the doors. They were absolutely huge, and could let in an elephant. Just when he was about to ask if there were more hurdles to his entry, something loud echoed from the other side, and the entrance started opening.

  “Hold on to your money, stranger. God knows you’ll need it!” said one of the two men standing by the doors while they waited.

  “I will remember that,” the Nameless replied.

  By the time the doors were ajar, the Nameless found that his joints had stiffened once again, and he almost fell on his face taking the first step. If the men around him had anything to say about that, they kept it to themselves. He could not see on from the other side, given that the path was covered by several rows of ornate red curtains.

  An interesting way to wish one welcome from the inferno back there, he thought as he pushed the first curtain to the side. Almost immediately, he could hear whatever device was in charge of controlling the doors activate again, and the heavy things started drawing together.

  The exit is closing behind me. The deed was done, and for better or worse he was in. He continued on and as soon as the final curtain slid over his forearm, he took one look at the bowels of Babylon, and regretted it instantly.

  The interior was an absolute mess; a decomposing concrete jungle of narrow, intersecting paths, houses and crooked buildings that sprang out like mushrooms. The construction of many of these things was so shoddy that quite a lot of them had to lean on each other for support, and still looked as if they would come crashing down within the moment. Instead of a sky, there was an incredibly tall ceiling that seemed to provide continuous illumination, whether the citizens of this place wanted it or not. As reason would dictate, countless pillars were generously spread about the place in order to prevent the heavens from crashing down. In sharp contrast to everything else, those seemed more than sturdy.

  Someone spoke from the right of the entrance. “Hah, if I got a nickel every time someone gets shocked when they first see it, I’d… well I guess I’d spend it all on booze!” It was a man’s voice, not overly deep but quite rough.

  “What… what is this?” the Nameless asked, turning toward the speaker.

  “Hookers are fine, too,” the man added, laughing at his own joke. He was overweight, balding, and sat behind a large wooden desk in front of a nearby wall. Six guards stood around him, all staring directly into the Nameless’ eyes. “As to what ‘this’ is, stranger, it’s the grand city of Babylon. The ground floor, to be exact. Or, if you want me to go into even more detail, the slums.”

  “I can see that,” the Nameless said. “Yet it does not make any sense at all. Why would people spend a fortune merely to end up here?”

  “Isn’t that obvious as well? You’ve just come from outside, haven’t you? We’ve got order here. Stability. Besides, if you show talent, you can rise up faster than I do when I see Miss Juggs up on the third floor.”

  I have seen another place where they thought they had ‘stability,’ the Nameless remembered, but said nothing. Besides the entry fee, the differences were negligible, at least on first sight. But something else the man said had piqued his interest, so he let go of the thought. “Rise up, you say? How do I do that? Are the upper floors better… kept than this one?”

  “Indeed they are, stranger!” the man responded with glee. “The higher you go, the better it gets! I’m not supposed to tell you what each floor is like, though. Policy, and all that. What I am supposed to do, however, is put you into the system and issue you an ID. You’ll need one to do pretty much anything out here. It’ll be ready in a couple of hours.”

  “Am I to give you my actual name, or…?”

  “Give me whatever the hell you like! If you want to be called ‘Major Johnson,’ it’ll be my duty to file you like that. Who you were out there doesn’t matter at all anymore.” The man broke into a laugh. “Although I’m warning you. There are quite a few gentlemen with that particular name already. Don’t want to go around causing confusion now, do we?”

  A regular jester, this one. Th
e Nameless needed less than a second to come up with a moniker. “Fine, then, let me be known as Horace. Horace Bones.” A slight chill came up his spine as he said it. So I do not forget.

  “Better than half the stuff I get, lemme tell you! Although I’ve heard better!” The man scribbled something into a document before him. “Alright, Mr. Bones, I’ll give you a quick rundown. After I’m done you can either stand here and continue being creepy, or you can take a look around. I recommend neither, so choose wisely.”

  “I am all ears,” the Nameless said. His body felt like it had the right consistency anyway.

  “No, you’re not! There was this guy, came here a couple months back, had himself a full necklace’s worth of ‘em. He was all ears!” The man waited a good while to get a reaction. When it became apparent that it was not going to happen, though, he dropped the grin and got down to business. “Fine. You’re horribly boring, so you’ll fit right in. As I’ve said, there’s a total of three layers to Babylon. Well, four if you count the penthouse, but that one’s off limits, so you might as well forget it exists. When you spit out a certain amount of cash, and you can do it here or out there by the elevators,” he pointed one of his thick fingers toward something that looked like a pillar, but was about five times as thick, “you buy your pass.”

  “And this pass allows me to go up, I assume?” The Nameless’ knuckles started itching. He knew that he needed to get moving, but this was too important not to hear.

  “Up, down, wherever and whenever your heart desires.” The man dragged his finger over the papers on his table. “For as long as it’s between the first and second floors, that is. If you want to go further up, you do the same thing, only you buy the pass at the second floor’s elevator hall. It’s good for a total of one month, starting on the day you buy it. If security catches you on a floor without clearance, you’re toast. No walking away from that. Get it?”