An Outcast and an Ally

by Caitlin Lochner

  11

  JAY

  SNEAKING INTO CENTRAL is much less excruciating after the first time. Now that Austin is aware of the fact I’m coming and we already have an alliance established between the Order and military, there’s less dread weighing me down. Slipping past the patrolling soldiers and Watchers is still a careful process, and several times I feel as though it will give me a heart attack, but there is safety waiting for me at the end.

  Noah looks up from his desk when I enter the reception room. He stands noiselessly, his presence a neutral, misty gray, and unlocks Austin’s door for me to enter. “Please call me if there’s anything I can help with,” he says quietly. Then he closes the door and is gone.

  I wait a few heartbeats before I say, “He’s a diligent secretary, isn’t he?”

  “The best I’ve ever had,” Austin says from behind his desk. Incredibly, the room is somehow messier and more cluttered than the last time I visited. The papers over the floor are now layered with new documents; in several places, its clear folders were stacked too precariously, tipped over, and were never righted. I step carefully to avoid dirtying anything as I approach Austin.

  “Is he … okay with you working with the Order behind the Council and military’s back?” I ask. Noah’s presence didn’t give any indication he was bothered to see me, but …

  Several heartbeats pass before Austin answers. I can’t easily identify the emotions coloring his presence. “Even if he objected, I don’t think he’d ever say so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Austin sets a file folder on his desk with a swish of air that sounds like a sigh. “Noah’s not a very … open person. Perhaps it comes from being brought up in the military since before he could walk and working directly under the Council since he could wield a weapon, but he never says what he’s really thinking. I get the feeling he thinks his purpose in life is just to follow orders.” Austin’s eyes drift to the window. His presence on my grid flickers with night-black grief before fixing itself back into its usual neutrality. “I’ve been trying to break him out of that way of thinking for years, but given our positions and responsibilities, it’s difficult. Especially now with the war.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I had no idea.” I’d known Noah had been in the military for at least as long as Lai, but I never imagined he was actually born into the military. However … “But if he’s worked directly under the Council for so long, why do you trust him so much? Is it really okay for him to know about you helping the Order?”

  Austin merely chuckles. “Working for someone for a long time doesn’t mean you’re dutiful to them. Noah has more than enough reason to despise the Council. He follows their orders because he has to, but he’s proved countless times that he is loyal to me over them. I trust him.” There’s no telltale itch behind my eyes that would indicate he’s lying. At the very least, he believes what he says. And if he’s known Noah and worked with him for so many years, I suppose he would know best. Still, an unknown party sharing knowledge in all this unsettles me. I should try to become better acquainted with Noah. Perhaps then I could ascertain whether or not he’s truly trustworthy.

  Austin’s fingers flick through the random-seeming mess of papers on his desk. His presence is sharp with concentration. “I read the coded updates you sent. So, the Order has decided to join the war?”

  I nod. “The idea is to make quick surprise strikes. The Order has found a way to somewhat accurately predict when the rebels will make their supply raids—which means we can counterstrike. We believe their next raid will take place tomorrow night. We’ll attack then.” I don’t mention Erik has gone over to the rebels as a spy. Lai and I discussed it, and it feels safer to leave him out of these discussions. No one needs to know he’s with the rebels. It could just complicate things when he returns to the sector.

  “So what is the Order asking from me?” Austin’s voice betrays no tension, but his presence gives away his wariness.

  I pull a list from the pocket inside my jacket. I memorized its contents before coming here; however, it’s always better to have a backup. “We would like to know the military’s patrol schedule and location of security Watchers, especially Outside. Running into them would unnecessarily complicate matters.”

  Austin nods. “I’ll have Noah pull the schedules up for you.”

  I hesitate because the next request is more difficult. “Lai would also like to request assistance in the way of weaponry. The Order has always been a peace organization up until now, so our arms are rather limited and basic. We’re worried what little we have won’t serve our members well enough. We also don’t have enough to arm all our members.” Hopefully mentioning that it’s a request from Lai will soften Austin up a bit. He is her adoptive father, after all. Perhaps if he thinks of it as being for her rather than for an organization he knows little about, he’ll be more inclined to acquiesce.

  Austin leans back in his chair. His presence remains neutral, a fact that is typical but especially anxiety-inducing in this moment. We need him to agree at least partly to this. Otherwise we have all of about three dozen flimsy weapons for over a thousand people. Our members are working on other means of acquiring and developing weaponry, but Austin would be able to equip us the most effectively.

  “That’s a big request,” Austin finally says. “I see what the Order gains from this arrangement, but for such a high price, what do I and the military gain?”

  I launch into the answer Lai and I worked out beforehand. We can’t offer something the Order can’t deliver on, and it goes without saying that even though Austin agreed to help us, this has to be an arrangement that will benefit the military as well, or there would be no reason for him to maintain the alliance. “In return, the Order would share intel we’ve gained on the rebels’ movement patterns, base locations, and expected strikes against the sector or supply routes. Our information network is excellent; you can trust our intel. I’m sure the military would benefit from having targets and advance warnings of attacks.”

  “And how does the Order acquire such useful information when even the military can’t, with all our equipment and scouts?” Austin’s voice is careful, but his presence burns with curiosity he can’t hide.

  “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that, sir.”

  Austin’s eyes bore into me, but I match his gaze evenly. I try to ignore my racing heart. If he says no …

  “All right,” Austin finally says. I nearly can’t hold back my sigh of relief. He leans forward once more, elbows upon his disorganized desktop. “I’ll see what I can do. It’s going to be hard to place orders for weapons that don’t make it to our soldiers, so you’ll need to give me some time to work out a process.”

  “The Order intends to stop the rebel supply raid tomorrow night,” I say. “The rebel team is small, and so ours shall be as well. Can you provide ten specific arms by tomorrow afternoon?” I hand him the list I’d been holding with the weapon requests written down. His eyes scan it, but he says nothing. My pulse picks up speed. “Of course I understand the need for time for such a large-scale endeavor as equipping most of the Order’s members. But if it’s about a dozen weapons…”

  Austin’s eyes lift to mine. “Cutting it close on time here, aren’t you?”

  “I apologize. Since you had so many duties to attend to and this was the earliest we could meet, we didn’t have much choice. It was hardly the sort of thing we could ask in the written update, either.” There’s always a better chance of convincing someone to accept a difficult request in person.

  “Why not give me the intel, and the military can strike instead of the Order?” Austin asks.

  “The Order intends this to be our official declaration of entering the war. The rebels don’t know about us or the amount of information we have on them—they won’t be expecting a counterstrike. We will only have this element of surprise once. This is the best chance for the Order to have a successful entrance into the war and show that we are a cons
iderable threat.”

  “I see. And if I can’t supply the weapons by tomorrow?”

  My heartbeat drums in my ears. “Then we will do our best tomorrow night.”

  Austin says nothing for several prolonged heartbeats. The Order does have some weaponry. It won’t be impossible to succeed in tomorrow night’s strike—just harder. And I know everyone wants to minimize the risks to our members going on the mission as much as possible.

  “I’ll see it done,” Austin finally says. This time, my sigh of relief escapes. “I’ll send one of my trusted lieutenants to Market with the weapons tomorrow at noon. She’ll be looking for someone wearing…”

  “A red scarf,” I say. “A man wearing a red scarf.”

  Austin nods. “I’ll come up with an excuse to tell her.” His fingers tap a rhythm against the edge of the table. “In the meantime, I want places our soldiers can attack. The public has been anxious—we need to show them there’s no reason to panic. That we’re not losing this war.”

  “Yes,” I say. “Of course. Thank you, sir. I’ll have our information sent in another coded update tomorrow morning, so please keep an eye out for it. If you need more detailed—”

  A knock on the door makes me jump nearly out of my skin. Noah’s voice comes from the other side. “General Austin, a member of the High Council has arrived. He wishes to speak with you immediately.”

  My heart rattles inside my chest as my eyes connect with Austin’s. He jerks his chin to his desk. I slide under it as he rolls his chair back to give me room.

  As soon as I’m tucked under the desk, Austin says, “Please, show him in.”

  I close my eyes as the door creaks open and footsteps patter into the room. I focus on my internal grid to distract myself from the panic threatening to overwhelm me. The Councilor is protected by starlight, a metal that is the only material known to neutralize Nytes’ gifts, so his presence doesn’t appear. Noah’s is tinged with worry.

  “General,” the stranger says. It’s a man’s nasal voice, strained with either impatience or anger. Perhaps both. It’s odd not being able to tell definitively with my gift.

  “Councilor Norman,” Austin says. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors at this hour.”

  An itch behind my eyes.

  “This is the only time I could come,” the Councilor says. “Do you have any idea how busy we’ve been since those damned rebels attacked us inside the sector? Running around trying to calm the people, telling them everything’s fine—and just what has the military been doing? Why haven’t you managed to make a single strike against them?”

  Austin’s presence glares scarlet, but his voice remains calm. “We don’t yet have the necessary information to execute an attack. We have no locations and no guesses as to how or where the rebel Nytes will strike. Is this the only reason you’ve come?”

  “Of course not,” the Councilor scoffs. “Do you really think I’d come all the way here just for that?” A pause. “I would appreciate it if we could discuss what I’ve come for more … privately.”

  My heart jumps up my throat. He knows I’m here.

  But no. I realize, belatedly, that he’s speaking of Noah, still in the office.

  “Of course,” Austin says. He stands and I watch as his feet carry him out of my line of sight. “Why don’t we change locations? It will be easier to show you what our scouts have found in one of the map rooms.” Another pause. “And as to the matter of attack progress. One of our squads found something recently. It’s likely a rebel base, but they’re now confirming whether or not that is the case. We should have the answer soon.” Another pause that feels so deliberate it’s a wonder the Councilor doesn’t pick up on it. “As soon as we have confirmation, we will strike.”

  My throat is dry. He’s counting on the Order to get him that information.

  “Oh, and Noah?” Austin says. “I want to double-check our soldiers’ and Watchers’ patrol schedules Outside to make sure there are no holes the rebels could slip through. Could you print that up and leave it on my desk for me before I get back?”

  “Of course, sir,” Noah says. “I’ll see to it right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  Austin’s presence leaves the room—with the Councilor alongside him, I assume—and makes its way down several hallways before coming to a stop in one of the meeting rooms. Noah’s presence leaves as well but goes only so far as the reception room next door. He appears to be at his desk, likely pulling up the data Austin requested. Even once they’re all long gone, it’s a struggle to settle myself. That was far too close for comfort.

  I unfurl myself out from under the desk and stretch. Should I remain until Austin returns or return to Regail Hall once Noah’s finished pulling up the patrol schedules? I already discussed the two issues of biggest concern with him. The rest is nothing critical, and if I wait, I risk being discovered by that Councilor.

  The fury that is becoming unsettlingly familiar rises to the surface. That Councilor is one of the people who wrongfully branded us traitors and made us wanted criminals. He threw our years of loyalty to the ground and trampled us underfoot.

  No. Stop. I need to remain calm right now. Getting angry will only cause me to make a mistake. That isn’t something I can afford in this situation. I still need to make it out of Central undetected.

  The door opens, but with my focus still on my grid, I know it’s Noah and thus no need for alarm. He holds up a folder. “I assume this is for you?”

  “Yes,” I say as I accept the file. “Thank you for your help. And for your warning with that Councilor. If you hadn’t knocked and let us know someone was here, I would’ve been caught.” If that Councilor had stormed straight into Austin’s office, I’d be dead. I need to be more cautious in the future. Just because I’ve made it into Central doesn’t mean I can afford to let my guard down at any point.

  “It’s nothing,” Noah says. “Just my job.” However, he lingers, and much like the last time we parted, I get the feeling there’s something he wants to say but feels he can’t. Austin’s words from when I first arrived come back to me.

  “Is there something bothering you?” I attempt to make my tone as disarming as possible. “If you’ve something you wish to say, please feel free. I’ll listen.”

  His presence flashes yellow, then orange, and back to its original green so rapidly I have difficulty interpreting the emotional shift. “I wanted to ask how Erik is,” Noah says after several heartbeats.

  “Erik?” He’s not lying. Why would he be curious about him in particular? The use of his first name surprises me as well. Were they close? I don’t recall ever seeing them speak together.

  Noah must notice my confusion because his eyes drop to the floor as his presence hums with embarrassment. And, strangely, guilt. “We were—friends. Sort of. A long time ago. Before he lost his memories. I just wanted to know if he was okay.”

  I stare at him. He’s still not lying, but I can’t help feeling even more suspicious than before. He mentioned Erik’s amnesia so casually—but I’m sure Erik would’ve never told him about it, especially seeing as how he wouldn’t remember his old acquaintance with Noah. Did Austin mention it to him? No, more than that, Erik was a rebel before the military took him in. How could he have been friends with Noah at that time?

  “Erik doesn’t know you were friends, does he?” I attempt to keep any suspicion out of my tone. “He’s been searching for clues about his past all this time. Why didn’t you tell him anything?”

  Again, that strange guilt radiating from his presence. This time, it’s so overwhelming it engulfs every other emotion. My hands clench reflexively. “I … it would’ve … complicated things,” Noah says. “I thought it might be better if he didn’t know.”

  He’s still not lying. But complicated things can have any number of meanings.

  As much as I want to push, to discover what’s truly going on, I can’t let on that I don’t trust Noah. I need his help for the foreseeable future.
I should retreat, reassess, and gain more information so I can come up with a plan.

  However, Noah’s looking at me expectantly and I realize he’s waiting for me to tell him how Erik’s been doing. I can’t tell him the truth about Erik going back to the rebels as an Order spy. If I tell Noah, he’ll surely tell Austin, and the fewer people who know about Erik’s current situation, the better. Besides, I’d never tell him anything about my friends until I know whether or not he’s trustworthy. I say, “Erik’s doing well. Complaining about how the Order doesn’t have a woodshop, but he’s adjusting.”

  For the first time, Noah smiles. It’s a small one, but a smile nonetheless. “I’m glad. Really. But—don’t tell him about me? Or that I’m asking after him?”

  Even more reason to be suspicious. “Of course,” I say. “I don’t know your circumstances, but your secret’s safe with me.” Not that I’ve been in touch with Erik since he left. Lai is the only one with the ability to speak with him now.

  Relief rolls off Noah’s presence in waves. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He nods to the door. “If you don’t have anything else you want to discuss with the general, you might want to head out before the Councilor returns. General Austin didn’t have much on his end to discuss with you tonight.”

  “That would likely be for the best,” I say. “If there’s anything else, we can discuss it next time.”

  “I’ll let the general know.”

  As I exit Austin’s office, a headache begins to press down on me. There are more than enough matters to worry over already, yet now I’m concerned about Noah as well. Something is off about him. Why does he feel guilty whenever Erik comes up? What exactly is their past relationship—if they truly were friends, why wouldn’t Noah have spoken to Erik after his memory loss? Not to mention he’s worked directly under the Council since he was a child. With Noah being at the heart of the Order and military’s secret alliance, I have to ascertain whether or not he’s a threat. It could be the Order’s downfall otherwise.