Daedalus

[Phoenix]

This story doesn’t come to me through the usual channels. Therefore, I dare say it is what you might call an unauthorized edition.

The woman who brought it to me, I first met when I was very young. When I was yet a neophyte, she was already very old. She has been silent for a very long time and I thought that perhaps she had departed this mortal coil. Perhaps she had. In any case, she is back now, though she uses a new name. When she commissioned this post, she told me that she was going by the name Terra, these days.

What is interesting about this story is that it hasn’t happened yet. Indeed, it may never happen. You see, I usually investigate any story that comes my way, searching for the grains of truth in the sea of lies. It was only by means of precognition that I could determine that this tale might possibly come to fruition. But the future is not set, and the fates have their ways of obscuring the weave of their tapestry until it is done.

What I am certain of, is that the titular character will recognize their role in this ballad of what may yet be.

It starts in the dilapidated streets of Detroit. In an industrial park that once hummed and buzzed with activity but has since grown cold with disuse. Only one facility still runs, set up after all the others had shut down. This urban wasteland is its camouflage.

Eyes in the sky flit by. They must be careful not to be seen. The enemy is not the only one who would object to their presence or this clandestine use. That is why no company markings are included in their manufacture and they will not be found on the ledgers of any industry.

The rented cops here are watchful. Youths sometimes come by hoping to vandalize or maybe make off with something of value. Usually they are chased off. Sometimes they are never seen again.

Tonight, it is quiet and the air is still.

Using darkness as his cover, Daedalus approaches. Expertly, he disables the eyes and ears of those who are watching. His clever little toys ensure that they do not even know that they are blind and deaf.

In the stories, Daedalus could fly. On this night, he must climb. It is on the roof where security is weakest and it is there he makes his point of entry.

There are no cameras on the inside the and security guards do not patrol the halls here. There are to be no records of what happens here and no witnesses of the crimes that are perpetrated. The smell of industrial chemicals hides the scent of many sins here.

Within the bowels of this place there is a network of supercomputers. They create a labyrinth in cyberspace. To Daedalus and the Goddess that looks over his shoulder, it may as well be a child’s maze on a restaurant place setting. Though it does take more than crayons to solve it.

He’s here to undermine the security of the sub-basement level and also for raw data about what was done there. Some would call it research. The subjects call it torture. Most would likely call it evil. There are devils who would gladly crib notes from this work.

One file catches his eye. One word.

Sigma.

That file is separated from the rest.

He continues on his mission. In the depths of the place he uses his wits to overcome traps and hidden perils. But the masters of this dungeon do not expect anyone to ever come looking here. They do not expect anyone to make it so far down.

They do not expect anyone to even care.

Behind a last set of double doors is the objective.

Eyes rise up to meet him, expecting yet another tormentor. Once they inspired fear in humans for they are not like you, gentle reader (or maybe they are…). That fear has led to the hatred that created this place. And now they know to fear humanity.

If they knew who he was behind his mask, they would think it was certain that their end had come. If they ever learn who their savior was, they will not believe the truth over the lies they have been told. In that way, this is a thankless task.

Those with some strength must help or even carry those who have none left. They will heal. All of them will mend in surprisingly little time. But their minds will be forever scarred. If they live long enough, then perhaps some of those scars will fade.

Allies who were waiting in the shadows spring into action, knocking out and incapacitating the guards. Some wanted to do much more but have abided by the terms Daedalus set down. Murder and vengeance may come later, but not tonight. Tonight, is about being heroes and rescuing those who have suffered.

Strong yet gentle hands guide tortured souls into waiting vehicles that speed away once their occupancy is reached. Alarms have been tripped and the cavalry will soon arrive.

Too late, the black vans and SUV’s arrive. Too late, the men in black suits, earpieces and sunglasses (after midnight!) arrive. They survey the scene. They seek to contain the damage. They seek to conceal the truth.

The news will tell of an industrial accident that led to a fire. One more business that fails in Detroit.

They should have torched everything. The fools want to save what they can. Hard drives are removed from the site before the blaze consumes all. They will find the data wiped away. They will not detect the cyber-bugs they contain until the damage is done. Their greed is their undoing.

Terra loves to see such men hoisted by their own petard. Of course, she may also enjoy seeing failed heroes meeting similarly ironic ends.

As the dawn comes, Daedalus meets with someone. It is a woman. They speak. She realizes that there is cunning in him meeting her like this. His suit conceals his scent. His mask hides his face and distorts his voice. Her senses cannot read him as they normally would.

He hands her a flash drive. It has the files she requested and he has made no duplicates. Her own goddess will confirm that. The only file not on it is the one she did not know to request.

Sigma.