The reroute flags appeared during shift change, when the employees were transitioning from one task to another, and there was a temporary reduction in the level of industry noise to allow for distinguishable personal notifications.
His slate was chiming in a pattern he had never heard, neither of the urgent signals of Pressure Difference nor of notifications of updated schedules, but one which had a definite administrative priority built in. He checked it briefly, locking down his monitoring station to make sure that he had integrity on all fifteen junctions.
Priority Routing: Process Escort Clearance
Destination: Transit Nexus Seven
Depart: Immediate
No reason is given. Nor is any context offered for what the need was for escort or why there had been an update to his clearance to facilitate this particular routing. Only the order and the designation that indicated he had been cleared for something more than what his previous limitations had been.
Gryan received similar notice, although using different terminology. MAINTENANCE ACCOMPANIMENT instead of escort clearance, implying his technical skills were needed for what happened at the destination instead of his oversight capacity.
Raya's slate displayed PERIMETER ESCORT DESIGNATION, which seemed ominous in its ambiguity. An "escort" conveyed protection or containment, although protection of what or containment of whom was purposefully not defined.
"Mission" or "Objective" wasn't in any of the designations. Just transit based on flow. This suggested that their motion was a result of operational needs as opposed to strategic intent.
They met at the Transit Nexus Seven by mere coincidence. Three employees strictly following directions for routing them to the point at the same time. The algorithms at the transit center viewing their separation only as a temporary condition surpassed by the current demand.
This nexus differed from the active forge districts they'd been working in. Quieter, with idle machines which indicated this part of the tunnel system got used from time to time, when certain transport needs dictated. Parallel redundant tracks, which would provide transport for heavy equipment or material not easily transported along normal conduits.
No background noise of labor. No hum of manufacture that had become so ingrained Alucent barely even noticed it anymore. Only the occasional rush of steam through locked piping and the ever-present hum that resonated through all surfaces present regardless of rate of activity.
Each acknowledged the other with a flicker of eye contact that spoke volumes without needing words that could potentially be traced. Gryan's makeshift braces indicated recent repairs, the metal frameworks askew in several spots that implied sloppy work instead of calibration. Raya's burns from the intervention incident were evident on her hands, but she seemed to move with ease despite the pain she must have felt.
The transport steamwagon pulled in on the sealed tram spine, a mini car with capacity enough for six passengers, max. Automation assisted in guiding it in, no human control necessary. The doors slid open pneumatically and they climbed in without saying a word, taking up positions that kept professional separation while permitting eye contact.
The wagon started moving at once, winding downwards through infrastructure that shifted from having industrial purpose to something more primal and ancient. The walls became made of stone that seemed very old, though very modern supports made of metal were bolted to its surface.
It wasn't the standard facility design. This is what the Iron Vale had constructed around, rather than erecting from the ground up, existing infrastructure that had been integrated into its operation.
This continues for what seemed like a few minutes, although time estimations proved challenging without any external means to judge. The atmosphere dried out, with cooler temperatures and a lack of heat so typical of areas known as the forge districts. There were pops from Alucent's ears as pressure equalized.
The steamwagon pulled up to vault corridor that made allelse look provisional in comparison.
The stones were not only old; they were ancient, carved with a perfection that modern ingenuity couldn't fully replicate. The stones were enormous; individual stones which would require heavy machinery to move and place. They were stones that would have required a knowledge that was before modern technology or knowledge that was lost in the intervening years.
The industrial braces that supported ancient architecture sometimes had steel frames bolted into the stone to add support or to retard decay. The braces seemed to be an afterthought, a cleanliness mandate that the stonework itself had always been sound while the added reinforcement accommodated regulatory mandates.
The runes appeared on some stones, partially obscured by metallic coverings that had been applied in a callous manner without consideration for the preservation of the original texts. In this case, the stones had been obscured in a non-malevolent manner in order to accommodate the necessary steam conduits.
The runes were chill to the touch and glowed with a soft light of cyan and amber, the traditional hues of Threadweave matrices, but the light was masked from view by the metal that covered them.
This was not secrecy. This was not intentional hiding to keep from being discovered, to keep from learning classified information. This was inheritance, building on a foundation that they themselves had not laid and did not fully comprehend, leveraging a structure erected for a completely different end.
The pair moved silently down the vault hallway via routing guides which manifested on their slates with absolute surety. The hallway continued to descend, at a grade that caused Alucent's legs to ache. There were no railings or barriers to keep one from falling; just ancient rock and contemporary supports to guide one to something of sufficient import to restrict access to this extent.
The corridor led to chamber where it was clear why such descent was needed.
The Sentinel Gate loomed large with a presence that could not be ignored despite the fact that the gate stood motionless. Its massive construction of brass and stone blended so well that it became impossible to tell where one material stopped and the other started. Vertical divisions gave the illusion of vertebrae latched together to form a spine from a beast scaled to an inconceivable size that could move each vertebra independently.
It didn't have any handles. There wasn't any apparent way to open a lock. There weren't any controls or interfaces to suggest how the gate would open or who would open it. There simply was the structure itself, having a permanent presence that indicated it would be here well before the Iron Vale found this place and well after the eventual abandonment of the facility.
The runic patterns overlaid the gate's surface. Alucent's trained eye saw these as complex but could not decipher their meaning. The characters were unlike any Threadweave writing he had learned as a student at the Tower—and perhaps were from an older tradition that over the years had branched off from the modern conventions.
The runes were dormant. There was no light, no energy pattern that his metaphysical senses could pick up. The magical system that was supposed to regulate its functioning was, at least at this moment, idle. The gate was consequently only a physical obstruction.
Alucent's eyes took it all in, his analytical mind trying to synthesize the architectural features to deduce their purpose. The gate was not reacting to power, he now understood. Did not need magical power to operate. Did not need authorized operation codes. Its operation was dependent on state, on conditions in the external environment.
Their escort nodes came online as they entered the room, slate designations updating to reflect their authorized range from the gate.
Gryan is allowed close enough to observe mechanically, to examine the brasswork and stone hinges, check for integrity and spot what needed maintenance. Gryan's brace emitted a soft whine of resonance that implied a working knowledge of mechanics on the part of his prosthetic.
Raya was held back at the marked line, maybe a distance of about ten meters from the gate itself. There was nothing to stop her crossing, except the notation on her slate that this is where she was supposed to be. The perimeter escort entailed just that—she could guard the perimeter but not directly engage whatever was on the other side of the gate.
There was nothing to prevent Alucent from approaching the runic face, from being close enough to reach out and touch the writings that were inactive but presumably responsive to whatever his presence or his authorization signified.
There wasn't a reason given for the discrepancy. There wasn't a reason given for the difference in their clearance levels. Only the recognition of mechanical continuity in Gryan's situation, analytical authorization in Alucent's situation, and defensive potential in Raya's situation while at the same time controlling that potential with maintaining a distance.
She was contingency. She would have been useful in the event there had been a problem, but she was not to be relied upon to have direct involvement in whatever process it was for a three-person team to enter this secured area.
Alucent was standing at the gate and was unsure what action to take. His slate showed him that it had received his proximity authorisation, but it held no further message for him to act on. The runes were dark and inactive; this might mean that it wasn't necessary to act on them at this time, and Alucent might lack knowledge about how to do so.
It waited. Watched. Allowed its Threadweave sense to reach out toward the gate without trying to control or access its magical systems.
The automatic gate opened by itself.
No flourish, no energetic burst marking the transition from dormant to active mode. Only the sequential illumination as the runes started glowing with amber and cyan light. No rhythm to the sequence that could indicate an organic process. Only the methodical verification.
What it was reading wasn't Alucent's identity or his Threadweave abilities or anything that would qualify him in particular. It was reading the system state—the operating factors of the facility that indicated certain conditions had been fulfilled.
Stabilized throughput rate. Reduced variance. Active BIO-REACTIVE INPUT integration. Records of logged authorization signatures to indicate an individual with proper clearance had validated consumption protocols, which the gate seemed to demand as a prerequisite for entry.
It detected compliance, not identity. It also understood the needs of the operation having been met and the person waiting to enter the system represented node in the approved operational flow, not an unauthorized individual trying to bypass the protection system.
Alucent had made himself perceivable to the facility's security system through his documented involvement in facility optimization. His approval for modulated full throughput has already generated a permanent record that the gate recognized as credible for admission.
The opening system was unlike anything Alucent had seen in traditional architecture.
It wasn't one of those things that swung out like a regular door. Didn't slide side to side like the barriers at loading docks. This one contracted, folding inwards along carefully designed paths where the material was obviously engineered to resist damage.
The stone moved with grinding pressure, its vibrations resonating throughout the chamber. Metalwork slid through expertly cut channels, brass reflecting ambient light in shifting patterns across sanitized stone. Steam escaped through channels carefully cut or incorporated into the infrastructure to provide for this operation, its release hissed from pressure indicating expert craftsmanship regardless of age. Water entered from channels positioned in the sides, reflecting dimmed light.
This was meant to open. Not very often, the workings of the mechanism indicated something that occurred from time to time enough for the occasion to be noteworthy. However, deliberately, with intent and forethought concerning how such a massive barrier might pass.
In the supervisory structure over the facility, some point would be recording the activation of the gate. Supervisor from Alucent's retention evaluation would be notified. Silent observers watching remote slates would register the timestamp and align it with operational timelines. Event tracking systems, created to register every quantifiable event, would record the access as a routine occurrence despite its obvious importance.
There was no celebration. No alarm. Just a record of events that categorized the opening as an expected event, an occurrence which had a sufficient probability of occurrence to be realized.
Before they could enter, the final designation appeared on all three slates at the same time.
ASSET STATUS UPDATED
FUNCTION: INTERFACE / SUPPORT / STabilization
RETURN PROBABILITY: UNDEFINED
Alucent's eyes locked on the notice, his analytical brain going straight to the last bit of the message. "Undefined" did not mean "zero"—there was no implication of certainty that they would not come back from whatever lay past the gate.
They were being shipped forward with the understanding that their survival was not assured or necessarily a high priority. Assets in transit, relocated as the needs of the operation dictated and not necessarily with regard to the safety or ultimate usefulness to the operation.
No warning about particular threats. No encouraging or motivational words that expressed their mission was appreciated. Just calculations and the probability assessment that didn't require any other consideration.
The chamber on the other side of the gate was visible for the first time as a result of the opening that had been made. Not the final destination, but a transition zone, a corridor or antechamber, leading on to something else, deeper inside the facility's more restricted areas. But very different from the forge areas, and even the vault corridor they had just descended from.
Older. Quieter. Wrong in a lot of unexplained but somehow self-evident ways. Ways which were immediately apparent to senses honed to a specific aesthetic of iron vale optimization combined with ancient foundations.
Alucent walked first, his role as connector obviously involving the leadership of this procession. The boots made a different sound on the flooring past the gate—the stone instead of the metal grating, old enough to have been refurbished but retaining its essence.
Gryan followed, his adapted brace buzzing with resonance that grew stronger the further he progressed into the area. There was something about the space beyond the gate that resonated—and interacted—with the systems of his prosthetic limb, giving the illusion of a feedback pattern that bordered on interference.
Raya lingered at her mark. The line was clearly defined: perimeter escort and authorized to enter the chamber, but not necessarily to continue past the gate. She was to stay at her designated position and secure the entry without venturing inside.
It did, however, have no effect on her as she passed through. No alarms sounded, no counteractions were made to defend against her, no measures were taken to prohibit her from passing. It merely logged that she had passed and recorded that she exceeded her code in doing so. She joined them in the transitional area, her jaw clenched with determination to put mission goals before compliance.
They were back together again, reunited after weeks of deliberate separation, standing in a restricted area that few employees ever penetrated. Behind them, the Sentinel Gate began to close. Not quickly, as if it had to trap them or keep them from escaping. Simply reversing the sequence of its opening, stone and brass reverting to the locked position that would not permit entry or exit until operational need dictated another opening. The sound was different here. Not a security measure to keep them inside, but a barrier to keep the Iron Vale locked out.
Separation between the optimization they had been a part of, and what lay deeper within the facility's ancient foundation.
The corridor of transition extended before her, lit by glowing runes of amber that offered just barely sufficient illumination. The scent of the air had changed, too less metal-tainted, less thick with the residue of industrial processes. Almost clean, although with a certain quality that implied agedness and confinement.
They had been given access. Had met whatever criteria the security systems in place at the facility had called for, had been given the resources and the clearance necessary to move towards something the Iron Vale had deemed sufficiently valuable to justify this degree of lockdown.
Whether they had actually wanted this or if it had aided in their infiltration plans was not clear. However, they had received the permission to move on and had been categorized as assets who would be of use for whatever was to be done in the future and were noted as being expendable depending on how the return probability actually manifested itself.
All they could do was move on into infrastructure that existed before the installation they'd infiltrated, for purposes they couldn't fully comprehend, recognizing all the while that they'd been allowed through because they'd shown sufficient conformity with the systems they'd come here to subvert.
The Sentinel Gate closed completely behind them with a final grinding noise that implied permanence. They were through the threshold now. They were committed to whatever was next through a combination of authorization earned and mission parameters which would not permit abandonment.
The hallway led down into depths of darkness, which was only faintly illuminated by the amber runes. It was also within these depths that the reason for the construction of Iron Vale was hiding.