The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (top novels to read .TXT) 📕

- "It would be interesting to see what exactly our colleague Ser Mac Zon is looking for," interjected Jack Di Mons.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DETECTIVE

Having emerged from his meeting with the doctor, Detective Boss's first job was to recruit a special ops team of the highest rank. The credits were transferred so he could spend at will, but he was no fool. First he had to get a bit of a feel for the situation and see which of the old team members were present. He dialed up the ultraphone that had long been considered a demode:

- "Hey, Nils Armborn, you smirking bastard, I think I have a great offer for you. I know you've been unemployed and just slacking for at least six months. That might get your attention," he began panderingly.

- "Tell me quicker," he called half-asleep, and it occurred to Boss that maybe he wasn't alone in the bedroom.

- "Well, there's not much to say, we'll fish from those Things again," he hinted.

- "Ah, that's not for the ultraphone," he snapped. "I need to get dressed. Let's meet at the old place. I'll find you."

After that, most of Boss's day involved ringing so-and-so, a bunch of negotiations, no small amount of swearing to motivate his teammates. But he had a well-established working style. It took him a few days to connect with most. Some were no longer among the living. He painstakingly scribbled their names in his digital organizer. He must have been the only one with that kind of savagery. No one had used such a device in at least two hundred and fifty years.

Then the team had to assemble along their respective routes and begin the investigation right from Barney's huge drinking establishment. Well, they didn't have to beat around the bush naturally!

- "I deeply doubt that things will еnd well," Boss voiced his concerns. "But we're caught and we'll have to see the job through. It's not the first time we've dealt with this."

We had to buy them new special combat suits that would resemble the clothing of an ordinary civilian, and then we had to provide them with the appropriate weaponry. As much as he wanted them to go after this Thing an hour sooner, he wasn't going to do it with his bare hands.

- "I'm glad we're gathered, boys," he said to the adventurers gathered around him. "Before we begin, I want us to understand each other once more. Trust no one. Don't use the ultraphones for communication. I will give you more detailed instructions later. For now, let's disperse and get a good rest."

It took too long for things to go the way Boss wanted them to. But somehow it worked out. Someone needed to recall the secret communication symbols between the squad, another wasn't in condition yet. But they all did their best to come and get back together. And to be one team.

They had slept at various addresses around the vast Embodzan just to avoid drawing attention. Barry's place was definitely their top priority. And they were going to discreetly investigate it. There were quite a few things to take note of. But there was no way.

Boss didn't fully reveal his intentions to them, because he suspected that if they were as aware as he was, they'd give up, and he had nowhere else to find others. Only one thing was certain - they were going to pick up a clue, and they weren’t going to blow it.

As they passed through Embodzan they looked around. The beautiful crimson glare reflected off the almost mirrored surface of the buildings suggested melancholy. Although this district was considered to be one of the wealthy parts of the city, if it were not for the medical fraternity that inhabited it, it would surely be a complete affliction.

Advanced civilization was marked with moral decay. So trite, yet so completely true.

- "How much you make depEnds on you," Boss tried to encourage them. "You could say there will be extra bonuses for good performance."

- "It's all too clear to us that it's something big this time," called Charlie Tennow.

- You already paid us less one time and pocketed some of the money for yourself, smartass. We don't have that kind. The thing is clear. We want a piece of the pie and a big one.

- "All right, all right," Boss scolded them. "I'll pay you one part upfront."

Then everyone calmed down. And walked more briskly.

- "This place really looks like some kind of snobby toilet. Some eyeglasses live in their own fictional and well insulated world. They just don't want to get into real life," Rento called.

- "Boys, enough talk, be careful," added Imaya, who had slowly joined the group and caught up with them. Boss's group was just the three of them, but he had distributed the tasks very precisely. That was generally doing exactly twenty-five million fee per person. Quite an appetizing morsel!

Depth of feeling doesn't matter folks! Not in a place like this! Don't be fooled by the look of Ecclestone's place. We'll still gather valuable information.

No matter how hard you've worked there's always someone who can achieve more, which of course there's nothing wrong with.

- "It's a pity Nils isn't with us. Still," corrected Imaya.

- "He'll be coming to watch our backs soon, too," called Boss.

As they were about to enter, Nils Armborn appeared from around the corner.

- Where to without me, lads. Always together.

His cowboy demeanor was more than memorable. The tough guy had anti-grav boots, a kevlarite electroshock baton, and was spouting flowery profanities.

- "Let's sweep them away so they remember us," he said in his gangster style.

- Relax, cowboy, this isn't my planet CFRG 1583 here, is it? Give it at least a little more meekly.

- Actually, I personally, along with Rento, fucked Ennio. We strangled the bastard. But that's not all. Deep down, he knew someone was breathing down his neck. And in the end, he just couldn't slip away. What a pity for his holy majesty!

- "Let's go in without giving him too much thought. Now is the time to act as a team and take them out," Imaya muttered, "I know what I'm talking about. The party will be over soon."

When the massive hydron doors opened, they were greeted by half a dozen ghost warriors, as the establishment had a special status of neutral territory. All the foreigners felt they were in their own waters for that very reason, especially when they didn't have the necessary identification cards or perhaps narenzianan chips. As long as they were on the territory of this drinking establishment, they could stay indefinitely. But there was one small "if." In street parlance, that meant "to scotch."

Somewhere from the recesses of the establishment crawled two or three automatics.

- "Excuse me," they explained, "you have to go through the mandatory quarantine procedure. - There is no other way."

- "We are coming to a party. No problems, do your job," Boss called humbly, while the others stood by him neither eating onions nor smelling onions.

The ghost warriors shuffled them for concealed weapons, and the automatons were quite bristling. But after finding absolutely nothing, everyone calmed down. They even laughed.

- "I hope the night is long enough for you, my friends," they sympathised. "You may come in. You are clean."

Once past the first guard post they had to get off in the virtual elevator in question. It was simply a marvel of engineering. It really was impressive and not everyone could ride on it. They had to purchase special temporary residence permits to stay on the grounds of the polis as they couldn't provide any identification cards or to narenzianan chips for obvious reasons.

The elevator's high energy field grabbed their attention and they could see concentrated beams of pure energy and they began to descend.

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE SACRIFICE

"Any sacrifice is meaningless unless it is made for some higher purpose."

Unknown author

The ceremony was about to begin. The whole vast crowd of Tarashdukians was in anxious anticipation. People had come from all over the planet. Everyone in anticipation of seeing the miracle. The elevation of the new novice to the rank of Mag Tu, the highest spiritual rank known to mere mortals. It was no wonder that deep down, many wondered why the great mage and archivist Kazuk Mon had chosen a young boy like Emborian. Previous novices had failed just before the finals, why would this time be any different?

Many even waited for hours at the foot of the ziggurat for everything to begin. The ceremony was something hellishly complicated, and not everyone could handle such a tiring and boring wait.

First the novice had to put on the robe of Mas Gan - that was one degree below Mag Tu, and then a whole retinue of Emphorils had to lay it on the Altar of Mar Zon - the last prophet of the mystic god Arthusson. Later, he would take a solemn oath of asceticism[7] to guarantee his detachment from the material world. Finally, he had to sacrifice part of his body and pay with his own blood. The last part of the sacrament was the passage into the other world for a short time under the blessing of Archpriest Kazuk Mon, symbolically lifting the burden from his shoulders and transferring it to his protégé's shoulders.

Even as they appeared on the platform the crowd erupted into a wild and frenzied roar. There were groans and cries for rescue. It was as if the whole multitude resembled a huge dragon, whose tail was lost far into infinity and swept over the horizon.

- "Touch our souls, oh, great Mag Tu," a voice rang out into the night.

There were groans and calls for rescue. It was as if the whole multitude resembled a huge dragon, whose tail was lost far away in the infinity and was overflowing beyond the horizon.

- "Touch our souls, O great Mag Tu," a voice rang out in the night, "cleanse us of all our transgressions. Show us the right path. And we will follow you."

Kazuk Mon played his part just wonderfully. So well did he understand that he now possessed real power over the minds of the simple-minded idiot-worshippers. How they would give sweetly and dearly to have their souls cleansed by his Mag Tu. But the darkness that seeped into his soul frightened him, replacing his