Collision: Book Four in the Secret World Chronicle - eARC

by Mercedes Lackey

  Scope looked around. It was a bare staging area for the trainees, with little more than a few chairs and tables. She picked up a chair, planted it ten feet away from the girl, and sat down.

  “I’m going to sit my ass down right over here. Okay? I’m going to sit here and not move or anything. Not until you’re ready.”

  “You’re going to be waiting a while,” Emily said, looking away. “Don’t have anywhere else to be.”

  “Why are you here?” Scope asked. “Doesn’t look like you want to be.”

  “Don’t have anywhere else to be,” Emily repeated. To the casual observer, she might have sounded bored, if not for the faint tremor in her hands.

  “Great,” Scope sighed. “I was bitching that Bruno’s too much of a hyperactive freak, so they send you to balance things out. Last time I ask for some harmony around here.”

  “Just leave me alone,” Emily said. “I’m stuck here. They won’t let me go. Just leave me alone and I won’t make trouble.”

  “Not the way it works, rookie,” Scope said, grimly. “You’re right about one thing, you’re stuck here. You’re stuck with me and Bruno and God help you, you’re stuck with Bull. No way he’s going to let you sit out just because you’ve got your goth lever stuck in overdrive. As for me, I’m not buying it. I don’t read people like Bull can, but I know when someone’s covering up pain. Why don’t you just tell me about it so we can go through the motions of getting all touchy-feely. Maybe Bull will leave us both alone after that.”

  Emily fixed Scope with a glare, but didn’t answer.

  “Nothing? Guy problems?” Scope prompted. “Sorry, don’t mean to assume. Girl problems? You seem the sort. Romance crap, I mean, not the, uh… girl thing.”

  Emily continued to glare, and sighed as Scope continued to watch her.

  “You’re not going away, are you?” Emily said. “You want me to tell you things about me, things to make you cry and have us hug while the credits roll. Fine. I was ten when I discovered I wasn’t your typical orphan child living in Surrey. My parents hadn’t been killed in a car accident after all. They were wizards, you see…”

  “Look,” Scope interrupted. “I’m not asking for much. And unfortunately it’ll have to be somewhat true. Bull has a way of knowing when you’re not being straight with him.”

  “Can’t bullshit the Bulwark, huh?”

  “No,” Scope replied. “He gets even a whiff of it, and he’ll be all over you.”

  “Good to know,” Emily said. “Thanks.” She looked away, and appeared to be contemplating the floor when she finally spoke. “I don’t have anyone. They’re all gone now.”

  “That’s a start,” Scope said. “Where did they all go?”

  “Not many to begin with,” Emily shrugged. “Dad left before I was born. My older sister died when I was four in some freak accident. Never really had friends. People get uncomfortable around me. I think they’re all stupid, never had much use for them. So it’s just me.” She shrugged again. “Better that way.”

  “Well sister, you keep up that attitude around here and you won’t have to worry about it. We might be metas, but we’re still people, and people don’t usually bother with emo chicks who think they’re too good for the rest of us.”

  “You’re one to talk!” Emily shot back. “Who are you to lecture me about dealing with people? God, I’ve seen better bedside manner in a morgue! Why don’t you get off your high horse and cram it! Go tell your Bulwark whatever you want! I just want to be left alone! I don’t want to join this piece of shit outfit and… and…”

  She might have looked angry, she certainly sounded angry, but it was more than that. The way her lips quivered, the glassiness of her eyes, and her hands trembled more than shook—she seemed less angry than shaken. Something had stirred her up, something she was holding back. Her mouth closed, her lips pressing together in a strangled hold. She crossed her arms and looked away, her face disappearing once again beneath a tumbling mass of dirty hair.

  “Thanks, Bull,” Scope muttered, pressing a hand to her face in resignation. “Leave me with the mother of all—”

  “Mother,” Emily blurted, wincing, as if the word itself had stabbed her.

  “Mother?” Scope said, and slowly came to her feet. She took a tentative step forward. “That’s right, you didn’t mention your mother.” Scope took a few more steps. “You lost her, didn’t you? And not long ago, I’m guessing.”

  Scope found herself kneeling before the girl, and before she knew it Emily had her in a desperate hug. Surprised, she forced herself to pat the girl gently on her back. Though acutely uncomfortable, she continued to hold her, and gently stroke the girl’s hair.

  “Cue credits, I guess,” Scope said with a chuff, her expression one of panicked indecision. Still, she didn’t let Emily go, and held her until Bull and Acrobat returned.

  * * *

  Then the room abruptly dissolved, and Scope was in another room; Bull’s office. No longer kneeling beside the girl who would be given the callsign of “Harmony,” but sitting in one of Bull’s office chairs, staring at the monitor, staring at Harmony, who seemed to be staring back at her. It was uncanny, and Scope felt a chill.

  “That’s enough for now,” Harmony said.

  Scope felt the empathic bond slip away, drain away, a familiar hollow left in its wake.

  She was in Top Hold specifically to see and talk to Harm again. Harmony had been asking about her, and Bulwark had obliged by sending Scope in. Get her talking, he had said. He was hoping she’d slip up, give herself away. Scope didn’t share his optimism. Harmony was too careful, too good, to tell them something she didn’t want to. Still, it mattered little to Scope. She was there for a different reason. What Harmony was offering was more important than glimpses into who or what she was. She gave Scope glimpses of the past, a chance to re-experience things, as if she was really there.

  “Why did you pick that?” Scope asked. “Our first meeting?”

  “Some familiar ground,” Harmony answered, her voice crisp and lively over the speaker in Bull’s office. “To set the stage. Maybe remind you how we once were.”

  “That was some act you were selling,” Scope exhaled. “If you’re trying to convince me of a change of heart, you might not want to remind me of how good an actor you are.”

  “Unfortunate side-effect,” Harm said. “I was in fact shooting for nostalgic awakening of pathos for the poor, confused blond girl. You felt something that day, as much as you wanted to hide it. I remember, it came off you in waves. It coming back to you?”

  “Sure,” Scope said, shrugging it off. “Girl meets girl, girl falls for girl’s sob story, they get ice cream, blah blah. Is that it?

  “Pity,” Harmony said. “I’m not getting a fraction of what I’d hoped from you. You really felt nothing from that?” She looked hurt.

  “It was a long time ago,” Scope said. “The details are hazy. Watching it now, it’s like watching it from the outside, and any feelings about it are being fed from you. It’s weird, more than anything.”

  “You speak like you don’t remember it at all,” Harmony said, disappointed. “I suppose it was a long time ago. And we’re different now, aren’t we?”

  “Very,” Scope said.

  “Perhaps something more recent then,” Harmony mused. “Something with all of us…”

  * * *

  With ample warning from Victrix, the arriving EVAC crew had climbed high into the desert sky and shut down their systems midflight for twenty seconds, long enough to bypass the sudden EMP that would have normally torn through them and left them in helpless freefall. After a brief moment of powerless flight, the ECHO Swifts charged back up and righted themselves. As they touched down at their destination, just minutes before the land-based emergency vehicles, they were met by a strange sight—a large dune, roughly the shape of a man, disintegrating in the desert winds. From his chest cavity, figures emerged, some clearly unconscious and being carried by others. The Swift
pilots wasted little time, popping open their carrier hatches and collecting their paramedic gear to attend to the wounded.

  Of the fallen, the vital signs were strong, and each woke in turn before the arrival of wailing sirens and even more ECHO personnel in ambulances.

  “Get this crap off of me, I said I’m fine!”

  “Scope!” Bulwark barked, with difficulty. “Just lie back and let them do their jobs!”

  “I’m blind!” Scope hissed, and swatted one paramedic’s hand away. She pointed at her eyes. “Problems are up here, idiot, not here!” She cupped her breasts and shook them.

  “I’m not feeling you up, moron, I’m getting your heart rate!”

  “Here,” Red Djinni said, kneeling down. “Check the blond one. I’ll take Suzy Sunshine here.”

  “Gladly,” the paramedic scowled and moved off. Acrobat squatted in his place and smiled at Scope while the Djinni continued to take her readings.

  “It’s blurry,” Scope said, “but I can still see that stupid grin on your face, Bruno.”

  “Just thought you’d want to see a familiar face,” Acrobat said. “I read somewhere that people who suffer from traumatic experiences do better when they can see a smiling loved one.”

  “Oh gag me,” Scope said. “You ARE a traumatic experience, you freak.” She batted away a stethoscope and turned to look at Red. “And watch where you’re pointing that thing, Djinni, you… WAH!”

  “What?” Red said, then looked down at himself. “Oh, sorry.” He closed his legs together, and repositioned Bella’s jacket around his waist.

  “I’M BLIND AGAIN!” Scope wailed. “WHY ARE YOU NAKED?”

  “Long story,” the Djinni said. “Maybe the medics brought an extra suit…”

  “AGH!” Scope moaned. “DJINNI BALLS! RED, RED DJINNI BALLS!”

  “Side effect of getting electrocuted,” the Djinni said. “Still healing up. With that and the broken hand…”

  He stopped, his brow furrowed in confusion. He brought his hand up and flexed his fingers. They were fine, healed, with no trace of broken bones.

  “Well, that’s just weird,” he muttered.

  “What is?” Bruno said.

  “My hand,” the Djinni said. “I cracked the hell out of it not ten minutes ago, riding that robot wolf. It healed up.”

  “That’s… good right?”

  “It’s… new. It’s usually just my skin that heals quick. This is different.”

  “Well that’s just spiffy,” Scope said. “Can you bottle whatever it is and pour it over my eyes?”

  “Scope, relax,” Acrobat said. “C’mon, this isn’t the first time you’ve been blinded. Remember?”

  Scope took a deep breath. “The Regatto Run,” she said, finally.

  “Right,” Acrobat said. “They hit us with the strobes, and with the nightvision goggles you got hit the worst. Took you a few days to recover, but you were just fine. You remember what got you through it?”

  “You promised me I could kick you around the sparring ring when I could see again,” she said, her voice dreamy.

  “And did I?”

  “You did,” Scope sighed. “You never saw that kidney punch coming…”

  “And how did you get better?”

  Scope grimaced. “I let you all bind my eyes shut behind a blindfold. Couldn’t see for days. Crap, not again…”

  “Yeah, again,” Acrobat said. “But it’ll be worth it. You know why?”

  “Why?”

  “This time, I’m going to let you wear the brass knuckles.”

  “Oh!” Scope said. “Oh Bruno… that’s the sweetest thing…”

  “It’ll be worth it,” Acrobat said. “But only if you get better, Paris.”

  “That’s… that’s… BRUNO, ARE YOU STROKING MY HAIR?”

  Acrobat jerked his hand away. “Sorry, got caught up in the moment.”

  “Oh, I’m going to enjoy pounding into you,” Scope snarled, as the Djinni blindfolded her. “I’m going to… and what are YOU laughing at, Red?”

  The Djinni suppressed a chortle as he knotted the blindfold.

  “Nothing at all… Paris,” he said, ducking as her fist lashed out. He caught it gently and led her to the waiting ambulance. “Let’s get you back and healed up. I really want to see what you can do with brass knuckles.”

  * * *

  Scope gasped as Harmony broke the connection and fell back into her chair.

  “There now,” Harmony said. She smirked at the camera. “That’s better, I definitely felt something from you that time. You saw something different this time around, didn’t you? A revelation. It was Bruno, wasn’t it? You really didn’t know how much he cared about you, even then. For someone with piercing sight, you really are a blind one. So, am I right? Was it seeing Bruno in a new light? No, wait, don’t answer. It’s better this way. I felt confusion, elation, and yes… love. Delicious, like dark chocolate with a hint of spice.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Scope replied, scowling. “You were acting, even down there, even while we were fighting for our lives.”

  Harmony shrugged. “I don’t think it would have made any difference. I might have been acting, but I was also working. And I don’t think juicing Bella Dawn would have allowed her to heal your eyes fast enough to do any good. But regardless, I had faith in the team, and I was pretty sure I was going to be safe.” She paused at that, and looked surprised. “Knowing that I was going to be safe used to be good enough. It’s…not anymore.…”

  “Is that why you’re doing this?” Scope asked sharply. “You really on a reparations kick?”

  “Does it matter?” Harmony was back to her enigmatic self. Scope wasn’t even sure now she’d seen that moment of shocked surprise on her face. “Aren’t you getting something from these sessions?”

  Scope grimaced.

  “So, now, what do we say, Scope?” Harmony asked, her tone pitched just right so that Scope couldn’t snarl at her.

  “Thank you,” Scope replied, the words pulled from her reluctantly.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Danger Zone

  Mercedes Lackey, Dennis Lee, Cody Martin, Veronica Giguere

  Bear, Unter and Upyr (CCCP)

  “Shut up, Old Bear,” Untermensch said, wearily, for what felt like the hundredth time.

  “But LaVerne and Shirley are to be sturdy workers!” the Bear protested.

  “Less talking,” Upyr replied, succinctly. “More shootings.” Suiting her actions to her words, she raised her beaten-up AK-74M to her shoulder and managed to hit the target this time. Barely. “Bah. What am I to be doing wrong?” The trio were practicing marksmanship this afternoon. There was a stretch of destruction corridor behind the HQ that was close to two hundred meters long and blocked in on three sides by rubble. Getting some cheap fill was easy; there was plenty of torn up ground where the reconstruction hadn’t reached yet. With the fill piled at one end, the CCCP had its own private firing range. There had been one city council official that had tried to raise a fuss over it, but the Commissar had had…words with him. No one had bothered the CCCP after that; most of the neighborhood residents figured that the more practice the Reds had, the better. After all, they couldn’t be worse shots than most cops.

  Soviette, Mamona, Molotok, and Rusalka were steadily working at their targets. As was Gamayun—who was still in contact with Vickie and the Overwatch system via her implanted Overwatch rig, and who occasionally put down her rifle to mutter into it. The rest were all on patrol or maintaining the HQ.

  “If Sheriff Andy were here—” began Bear.

  “Shut up, Old Bear!” came the chorus.

  Saviour and Ramona (CCCP)

  Red Saviour set a pile of papers in front of Ramona at the small desk. She offered her a wolfish grin. “Soviette has cleared you for administrative duties. You will not find CCCP to be plush office with secretaries. First duties is to be filing equipment requisition and damage forms.”

  “And let me guess, this isn’t ev
en half of it,” Ramona remarked dryly. Exposed metal on her fingers grated against the thin paper. “A through F?”

  “Through C. C is for Chug,” the Commissar replied with a wag of her finger. “Many things are filed under Chug for damage. Some may be filed under Chug for disposal, but is different form. The two are not to be confused, da?”

  “Da.” Ramona wrinkled her nose and started to separate the pages. She noticed several pieces of office furniture as well as half of a tow truck categorized as damage, with notes mentioning Chug’s insatiable appetite. Other pages described doors, tires, and depleted uranium shells.

  Chug would definitely need more than one folder.

  Bull, Bella and Pride (ECHO campus, Training Grounds)

  Bella watched as Bulwark scanned his tablet, checked the time, and took in the sight of his new recruits struggling with the new obstacle course on the ECHO training grounds. His movements were slow and deliberate, but constant. She smothered a sudden urge to chuckle. He was a closed book, this tall, sturdy and beautiful man, but she liked to think that slowly she was beginning to understand him. It was very exciting for her, to learn about someone at such a plodding and deliberate pace. Most men were so transparent, even without her ability to detect their every fleeting and often base thoughts. This time, she was doing things the old-fashioned way. Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn’t, but time and tentative gestures and conversations would tell, and not ruined by the abrupt mental readings she usually received by simply touching someone.

  Bull’s head swivelled slowly down to his tablet, and grunted. Bella suppressed another laugh. It was rare to see him so restless.

  “Well Bull, what do you think?” Bella asked. “This lot up for some firearms training yet?”

  “Are you insane?” Bulwark asked.

  Bella smothered a smile. “Isn’t that the Misfits’ battle cry?” Here she was in what should have been a practically untenable position, de facto head of ECHO, an organization that was still reeling from what the Invasion, Tesla’s death, and Verdigris had done to it—and yet—she couldn’t help but keep smiling. Because things were getting better. Insane or not, things were better, and one had to acknowledge that it was, in part, due to a certain level of deviousness and unpredictability that she and her rebels had shown since someone, someone insane perhaps, had placed her in a position of leadership.