Lightgate held a pistol over her face to stifle a yawn. She shook her head to wake herself up. “Sorry.” Reminded of the gun in her hand, she held it out again. “Yeah. Take it.”
“You’re a goddamned psychopath, Lightgate,” Letty told her. “Those bastards could do for our whole society.”
“I knew you’d get it eventually.”
The ginger was moving forwards, his flame-thrower, or whatever it was, ready. His mate trotted to the edge of the road, taking cover against a building. Letty pushed up with her wing, over the roofs, to get eyes on the next car. Two more pricks in suits, similarly armed. No prizes for guessing what was happening with the other cars. There might be more, even, way out of sight.
They were three blocks out from the FTC. Two blocks from the no man’s land where the scouts would open fire. Humans usually got deterred before that, through non-violent means. The roads in one direction were blocked by rubble, in another by a broken-down truck. The rest of them had fields of shattered glass or nails earlier in the approach. These guys were watching their feet, aware of such traps. The ginger’s pal with the unlikely rifle called out and the pair stopped. He had something on top of the gun, a blinking panel of lights. He pointed off to the side and Ginger approached it. He took another gadget from his pocket and activated it with a beep. Something puffed from between the bricks of a half-fallen wall.
Well shit, they could deactivate Fae defences.
Sam pulled Mathers’ phone as far into the main office as its lead would allow, receiver cradled against her shoulder as she shouted, “Tell them to stand down! Tell them not to engage!”
The phone kept ringing, Tarrington not answering.
The analysts looked at her like she was mad, none of them in any hurry to move. One of them even shook his head, pityingly.
“It’s a direct order! No one is to advance!”
Roper took the lead, relaying her words through the radio in an uncertain mumble. He looked sideways at Sam, clearly torn. Hail’s voice came back over the speakers.
“We already have our orders. Ready to move.”
“The orders have been compromised!” Sam said, louder. “Listen to me, you insubordinate –”
“Ms Ward, I warn you.” Tarrington’s voice cut her off. “You’re in danger of overstepping many lines.”
“Sir,” Sam gasped into the phone. She quickly tried to recover. “Sir, please – there’s something I need to ask you – it’s crucial in rescinding Protocol 21 –”
“What Protocol is that?”
“The FTC,” Sam said, hurriedly. The fool wasn’t even aware that they were about to slaughter a civilisation? “We have men in place on the orders of the Raleigh Commission, but I believe there’s been a mistake.”
Tarrington took a second before replying. “You’ve questioned my commands already today, Ward, and I can’t say I cared for it. Now you’re questioning one of my colleagues and, what, expecting my support?”
“Sir, did you actually sign off on Protocol 21?”
Tarrington paused again. “I was sent papers earlier, I suppose, what of it?”
“The order to assault the FTC? To wipe out the FTC, you agreed to that?”
“If I did,” he answered, “that’s not your concern, is it?”
There was uncertainty in his voice; he either didn’t want to admit he didn’t know what she was talking about, or he’d committed to something he hadn’t fully understood. Either way, it was the best response she could have hoped for: confusion. But Sam needed to get him off the defensive. “Sir, I believe a document we’ve received, issuing the order, may have been tampered with.”
“Ha,” Tarrington said plainly. “Ms Ward, I told you to take some time off. Your –”
“Please, sir, take this seriously,” Sam said, “or a lot of people could die.”
Another pause. “Go on, then.”
“We received a fax telling us to enact Protocol 21 and assault the FTC. Did you agree to it?”
“I can’t keep track of everything I’m sent, and I trust my fellow members of the Commission to act in lieu of assembling the entire board.” And that was exactly it, wasn’t it? He could pass the buck; if anyone thought to question the details of their orders, it was someone else’s problem.
“Ms Ward,” Roper called out, voice wavering, “they’re advancing.”
“Sir,” Sam continued, “quickly, please. Have you had any direct contact with the other members of the Commission regarding this order? Have you spoken to them in person, or by phone?”
“No, Ward,” Tarrington answered petulantly. “Have you?”
“No, sir, not at all. The order originated from Lord Asquith. Please can you speak to him directly and confirm it.” Tarrington laughed derisively, making Sam frown. “Sir?”
“Let me get this straight, Ward,” Tarrington said, “you want me to talk to Asquith for you?”
“Sir. You are our main point of contact within the Commission.”
“But of course.”
“Ms Ward,” Roper called out again, “you should be monitoring this!”
Sam waved a hand for quiet, as Tarrington continued, “You talk to me because I have my finger on the pulse. No one talks to Lord Asquith, because the man’s a veritable recluse. I’ll happily ping him a message, but don’t expect a quick response. He won’t touch modern electronics, you know.”
“Sir, we don’t have time.”
“There’s nothing else I can do. I’m hardly going to chase him down in the Chilterns or wherever he’s camped out.”
Sam paused, realising what he was saying. She spoke very carefully, to make sure he appreciated the gravity of the question. “Lord Tarrington. When was the last time you actually spoke to Lord Asquith in person?”
Tarrington was quiet. Yes. He got it.
She drove the point home. “Sir. You can stop this assault.”
“Sharp bunch, aren’t they?” Lightgate commented, as the MEE agents defused another trap with an electric pulse.
“You want a fight so bad,” Letty snarled, “what are you waiting for?”
The pair of Fae kept pace above Ginger and his mate, as the men reached the end of the road. They checked from side to side, not up and down, and continued. Lightgate said, “Bloody amateurs.”
“It’s been so long, there’s barely a mug left in their cupboard that knows Fae fighting.”
“None of them knew it back then, either,” Lightgate said. “Our people fled. Our people fought amongst themselves. We never get to hurt them. It’s delicious.”
Letty gave her a sideways glance and Lightgate returned a crooked grin. Then she laughed and shook her head. “The look on your face, Letty. Lighten up. Enjoy this.”
The agents crossed the boundary, one foot over the invisible line.
A sniper rifle in the distance flashed soundlessly, like a penny reflecting the sun. The bullet struck Ginger square in the eye, an incredible shot at that distance. He took a step back, head jerking to the side. Then he straightened himself up.
The goggles had taken the bullet.
“Those rifles can put a hole through plate metal,” Letty gaped.
“That,” Lightgate said, “is an interesting development.”
Another flash from the distance, and Ginger took it in the chest. It knocked him back, but he kept his balance. He swore, a little wind knocked out of him. That plastic armour was far tougher than it looked. Another shot caught his shoulder as he was straightening up, making him twist the other way and drop the tube of this weapon. He shouted, “Take them out!”
The other guy fired in the direction of the shots, with the crack of a sonic boom, a pulse spreading from his gun like a heat shimmer. Even flying behind them, Letty and Lightgate had to steady themselves against the blast, as it arced through the buildings ahead, shattering the scant remnants of windows and shaking loose brickwork. It hit home as mortar erupted around where the sniper’s flashes had come from.
Ginger gath
ered up his weapon and the men observed the landscape ahead of them.
No more shots.
“Holy shit,” Letty said quietly.
“We’re ten years behind,” Lightgate said. “You see it now? The damage Val’s peace has done to our people? We should be dominating these scum.”
The agents crossed the invisible barrier, walking unhindered towards the FTC building, where the citizens must have been scrambling to flee. There was another crack of sound off to the side, another advancing MEE agent firing his weapon. Then another, and another. Ginger’s friend, closest to them, fired again. Letty shuddered in the air, feeling it in her bones.
They were raking the sky, making sure no one was flying up, which is exactly what the Fae would be doing. A thousand or more people scrambling to flee, just to survive. Otherwise they were boxed in to be exterminated like insects, as the humans saw them.
“You want to do something?” Lightgate said. Her pistol was held out again.
The agents’ armour wouldn’t defend them from a shot up close, not against a gun pressed to their skin. Letty looked at Lightgate’s pistol.
“All yours,” Lightgate said.
Letty reached for it. Shit, she had to do something.
Ginger pointed and his pal fired another shot. A lone-standing pillar in a bombed-out warehouse cracked and slowly tumbled.
Letty streamlined her arms and legs into a torpedo aimed right at the fuckers. Hurtling through the air, seeking flesh. A gap between the back armour and the helmet, that was hers. A bullet in the bastard’s neck.
“Hold up, hold up!” Ginger shouted, suddenly. He put a hand to his headset.
The other guns went quiet.
Letty stopped abruptly, barely a building’s width from them. The rifle guy straightened up as Ginger frowned at whatever he was being told. “Fall back. Commission’s orders.”
“Now?” his friend replied. “This isn’t –”
“No, move,” Ginger told him firmly. He turned back the way he’d come and Letty flew up, out of his line of sight. The other guy started after him, giving fleeting looks towards the FTC. Ginger was grumbling, both of them pissed at the news.
As Letty floated towards the nearest building, Ginger tried to justify the cancelled attack out loud. “We got a few, hey? At least that’s –”
He dropped like someone had cut his strings, offering a startled gargle as his Adam’s apple burst out in a small mist of blood-spray. A thin red stream crept down his neck. The tubular weapon clattered to the ground and got in the way of his fall, both his hands limply rising to his throat as he tried to stop the bleeding. He spat up blood as he squeezed his own throat, choking as it filled with blood.
His friend was shocked still, the same as Letty. At the sound of a gunshot, his head snapped back and he hit the floor without so much as a splutter.
Ginger gargled and twitched like a drowning man, then his quivering stopped.
Lightgate floated down between the two bodies, turning in the air to check her work. Her expression was entirely neutral. Letty checked the pistol in her own hand: not even had the chance to check it worked.
“Make your decision now,” Lightgate told her. “I’m not having you sneaking behind my back, so you’re either gonna help me bury the rest of them or you’re joining them now.”
“They were falling back.”
“Back to a time when they hadn’t killed our people?”
There was no arguing. She wanted the violence.
They were metres apart, bobbing up and down in the air. A difficult shot with the best conditions, let alone up against this monster.
“Oh.” Lightgate steadied in the air, sensing Letty’s intentions.
Letty ran her fingers over the pistol handle, tensing. It was only another Fae. She’d faced countless pricks with guns. Just one more. Lightgate raised her free hand in a fist to cover her mouth, a little gag. Burping? Now? A distraction, Letty was sure, to try and draw her out. She knew this bitch was ready as ever.
Lightgate met her eyes, lowering the hand slowly.
Nothing left to say.
Letty whipped up the pistol and fired. The gun leapt from her fingers as she took a blow to the chest, Lightgate’s shot coming at the same time, strong as a train driving her back, back into the wall. She hit brick with a crack, the engine of her artificial wing shattering and all her air gone. She dropped and hit the pavement hard, taking the brunt of it on her knee. Once, twice she rolled, then flopped still. She wheezed, trying to breathe, but each breath came shallower. Warmth spreading across her chest.
She rolled her head to the side, searching the sky through the blurry tears of pain. Lightgate’s shape was still up there, bobbing a little erratically. Her voice came down, almost annoyed. “Better than most. I’ll give you that. Fuck.” The final curse as she folded over herself. Clutching an injury.
Letty’s head dropped back onto the hard floor.
Please let it be fatal, she thought, looking past the buildings to the blue of the sky.
Please let it be fatal.
17
When the Ministry car pulled up, Casaria swore and turned away. “This fuck-up?”
Pax gave him a warning look, but she wasn’t impressed either, seeing Landon behind the wheel. He looked even worse than before, with a few added scratches on his rosy face, and he looked about as happy to see them as they were him. He leant over to push the passenger door open, squeezed by the seatbelt he’d neglected to undo.
“Anyone but you,” Casaria said.
Pax opened a rear door to invite Rufaizu in, and went round to the other side. She lingered just long enough to make sure Casaria was joining them. He rolled his eyes before getting into the passenger seat. Rufaizu was already playing with an over-large white shirt in the rear seat, exploring his way into it. It must’ve been one of Landon’s spares, but the big driver wasn’t stopping him.
“Fasten up, all of you,” Landon said, by way of introduction.
“She’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, isn’t she?” Casaria said. Landon ignored him, pulling the car into traffic.
“There’s been a serious development,” Landon said. Casaria was about to reply when their driver punched the accelerator and threw everyone back into their seats. As a method of silencing complaints, it worked. Landon said, “I’m not sure this is a good idea any more.”
“No surprises there,” Casaria said.
“I would’ve been there by now if I hadn’t had to pick you up,” Landon reminded him. “And I would’ve been better off, wouldn’t have to think about watching my back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know.” Landon turned away from Casaria to focus on a sharp right turn that made them all tumble. Pax pushed against Rufaizu to straighten herself up. He put his hands up with a smile, showing off the cuffs of his enormous shirt.
“What’s this development?” Pax asked Landon.
Landon negotiated another gap in traffic before answering. “The orders came in as Ward was directing me your way, calling off the FTC attack. London got through to the FTC Council directly or something – I don’t know – there’s calls for a ceasefire from both sides. Except” – Landon looked for Pax in the rear-view mirror – “the situation already got out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” Casaria said. “Tell me we’ve done some damage, at least. How many of ours are out there?”
“Eight,” Landon said.
“Eight? Everyone?”
“Everyone but me, you and Vinton. He’s on leave.”
“Enough to do some serious damage.” Casaria looked at Pax, too. “Whatever your feelings, we still ought to wipe that place out, one way or another.”
“We already did some damage,” Landon said, with aggravated patience. “The Fae agreed to talk, and the Council gave permission for our men to walk away, despite the initial attack, but it seems they weren’t all on board with that. We’ve lost contact with half the team.”
>
“Double-crossing little shits,” Casaria hissed. “Forget this Blue Angel, we ought to head there ourselves.”
“That’s what it’d want,” Pax said, shaking her head. No way were they getting in the middle of a shoot-out, not when they were this close. “The Blue Angel doesn’t want to be found, what better way to stay hidden than cause more fighting amongst ourselves? Where we’re going, that’s the answer.”
Landon gave her another look in the mirror. He didn’t want to be at a shoot-out either, did he? He addressed Casaria rather than her. “This all could’ve been done much neater. You’ve got a lot to answer for.”
“Yeah, neater,” Casaria countered. “Neat and ineffective, same as ever.”
Landon gave him an unhappy look.
“Cheer up,” Casaria said. “We’re doing good work now.”
His smile was back, Pax noticed. That white, unnatural grin, ready for certain danger. Except she appreciated, now, that it also meant he was scared. And she knew he was right to be.
They’d slipped into silence long before they crossed into the industrial plain of the Net. Rufaizu kept picking at the car door and the buttons of his newfound shirt. From the way they looked at the road and each other, Casaria and Landon were torn between meditative thoughts about their destination and their mutual dislike. Pax left them all to it, focusing on the feeling that was building inside her, the odd pull, the tingling, burning. Was it really her sensing what Rufaizu had called the Bright Veins?
The further north they travelled, the stronger it got. Could she feel the Blue Angel itself? Or its diverted, hoarded energy, at least?
She closed her eyes, trying to feel it more clearly, to picture whatever this odd sensation was. It didn’t help. She knew something wasn’t quite right, and she knew in what direction. Beyond that, it wasn’t clear. But whatever it was, it was getting stronger.
They passed between wide, low-lying commercial buildings, built for storage or the kind of work that required big, empty spaces, like furniture manufacture or industrial laundry. Pax had been up this far once for a game hosted by a man who printed banners for small companies. It had grown uncomfortable when he started threatening anyone who beat him in a hand. That’s the sort of place the Net was: an area providing little-wanted or little-understood services, slightly disconnected from reality.
The Sunken City Trilogy Page 64
