The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

by Zachary Rawlins

  This morning had felt just a little different.

  He had finished a long ride on the stationary bike, and was wiping the sweat off with a towel, considering whether to go to the pool or the weight room, when he noticed a faint whiff of sandalwood, not at all strong, but noticeable among the standard smells of the gym.

  Michael looked around but saw no one aside from the vague clientele of the gym.

  A set of deadlifts did nothing to dispel the unusual presence.

  He scanned the gym again, and this time the invader was standing in the open, sticking out like a sore thumb among the spandex-clad crowd with her blue hair and striped knee socks. She was accompanied by a cloud of tiny golden particles that danced about her and wore a look of guilt on her usually expressionless face.

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Lacroix,” Eerie said. “I know this is a bad time, but I really need your help. Not just me. Everyone needs your help.”

  Everything about the Changeling seemed different to him, from her posture to her voice. He wondered if that was part of the simulation.

  “Hello, Eerie,” he said, sitting on a conveniently vacant weight bench. “What can I do for you?”

  “I know that you are happy here, and I feel bad about asking,” Eerie said, standing in front of him with confidence that he did not recall her having. “We are in real trouble, though.”

  “Is it that bad? What is it? The Anathema?”

  “It’s…well, it’s everything, really, but mostly it’s the Church of Sleep,” Eerie said, putting a finger on her lips. “Or, I suppose you could say that it’s me, because this is sort of all my fault. It’s about Alex, too, but that’s my fault, and John Parson, which is my fault but he is also a jerk and a bully, and the old Director, who is also a jerk, and the new one, Ms. Levy, who is nice, but I think will be very angry with me the next time that I see her, and then Anastasia, but she’s super nosey and is always meddling in everyone else’s business anyway, so that’s probably not all my fault, and…”

  “Eerie, please, slow down,” Michael said, laughing. “I know what was happening when I was injured. What has happened since?”

  “All sorts of things,” Eerie said. “Mr. Lacroix, will you help me?”

  “Absolutely,” Michael assured her. “I’ll do anything I can. Although, I hate to say it, but I was hurt pretty badly, Eerie, so I’m not sure what I’ll be capable of doing. I know I look fine here, in the simulation, but my face, and my eyes were…”

  “Your eyes were gone, and there were holes in your brain,” Eerie said solemnly. “I mostly fixed that.”

  “You…you did what?” Michael’s mouth went dry. “You fixed my eyes? How?”

  “I’d rather not say, ’cause it’s a little...” Eerie blushed and looked away. “I did my best,” Eerie said. “For your brain, too. You’ll need all that stuff, I think.”

  “I think so too. I guess I should thank you. What about my face?”

  “I couldn’t do much about that,” Eerie admitted. “I did the best I could, but I can only do so much, especially at a distance. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m very grateful.” He put aside his towel. “You said you were in trouble.”

  Eerie nodded.

  “What sort of trouble, Eerie? What do you need me to do?”

  She glanced around suspiciously, though they were in a trauma simulation, and not one of the ill-defined people around them was real, and then she took another step closer, lowering her voice until it was very nearly a whisper.

  Then she told him.

  She did not tell him everything, obviously, or even as much as she could have, because Eerie did not want to see Michael get hurt.

  She told him what she thought he needed to know and kept the worst parts to herself.

  “Well? Will you please help me?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, trying not to think about the small bar, open toward the sea and dimly lit, and Alice arriving late in her red dress. “I would never abandon one of my students.”

  And that was the truth, though it did little to make the sudden ending of the simulation any less bitter.

  In a trauma unit at the infirmary in the Academy, Michael sighed and wiped his eyes, which were moist and itchy and felt strange in his head but were at least most definitely there and functional. He then wearily rang for a nurse, wondering distractedly why his mouth was filled with the taste of sour apple candy.

  ***

  Xia melted a hole in the razor wire fence near the freeway, the rest of the Auditors baking in the midday heat as he worked. Alice Gallow waited in the shade of a painted cinderblock wall, sitting on a pair of green duffel bags that contained what remained of their field equipment, fanning herself with a discarded real estate promo.

  When Xia finished with the fence, the Auditors slipped into the complex one at a time. They emerged not far from a small line of pickups that idled at the side gate, waiting for a sluggish attendant to inspect identifications. Hayley telepathically coordinated their timing to make sure they went unseen. Alice took the lead, while Grigori Aushev brought up the rear, grimacing beneath the weight of the gear bags. They passed two rows of double-units, Alice leading them to a unit in the third row, the green door inset in the concrete identical to each that they had passed. She pressed her thumb against the panel above the door handle and the lock released, revealing a dark, musty space, even hotter than the outdoors.

  The Auditors filed inside with obvious reluctance.

  “Finally!” Grigori dropped the bags, and then collapsed behind them, his cheeks pomegranate-red and his chest heaving. “I thought I would die out there. Now I can die in here instead.”

  “No kidding,” Hayley said, using her hat to fan herself. “How do people live in this awful city?”

  “Inside, during the day.” Alice found the main power panel and flipped the circuit breakers, lights and appliances humming to life. “Gotta wonder what they did before air conditioning.”

  The storage unit walls were lined with tables and makeshift furnishings. A pair of workbenches were situated beside a utility sink and crude kitchen, while a pair of desks with laptops, a television and shortwave radio, and a camp shower and portable toilet lined the other side of the room. The space between was bisected by a row of bunk beds, the thin mattresses still wrapped in plastic. A tangle of wiring and electrical equipment occupied one corner, while a folding table sagged in the other. Fans started in motion with the lights, rotating slowly overhead and stirring the stale air.

  “I’ll say it if no one else will,” Hayley said, grimacing. “This sucks.”

  “Give it a chance!” Alice was busy punching buttons on a large panel. “I’m sure after a few days of shitting right next to where you sleep, you’ll feel differently. How the fuck does this thing work, anyway?”

  Xia gently pushed Alice aside, and took over the panel.

  “Oh God,” Hayley muttered, eyeing the blue portable toilet. “You don’t…you don’t seriously expect me to…?”

  “Hold it, for all I care,” Alice snapped. “Could be worse.”

  “I’m going to die without water,” Grigori said woozily. “Then again, I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  Alice opened the refrigerator, which was almost entirely filled with bottled water. She took a bottle and tossed it to Grigori.

  He missed the catch and was forced to crawl after it.

  “Not cold yet,” Alice said, taking out more bottles. “But it’s water.”

  “That’s something,” Hayley said, catching a thrown bottle gratefully. “Not much, but it’s something.”

  Xia nodded at the panel, every box displayed with a bold green checkmark.

  “Nice work!” Alice said. “I knew you’d get it, Xia!”

  Xia nodded and refused her offer of a bottle of water. Alice watched over his shoulder as he navigated through submenus.

  “Miss Gallow?” Min-jun leaned around her arm to get a better view of the display. “What is this?
”

  “A fixed Etheric terminal,” Alice said. “The precognitive pool wanted to put one here for ‘operational’ reasons they could not explain. The Director howled over the expense, but I guess the precogs were right.”

  “So, it’s a terminal to the Network,” Min-jun said. “How is it ‘fixed’?”

  “I don’t really get this stuff, but I think, it’s…a hard connection? You don’t need a telepath or anything, and they never go down. I think that’s the idea.”

  “But I’ve been trying to reach the Network for hours,” Hayley said. “Nothing responds! I’ve tried every server I can remember, and…”

  “I know,” Alice said. “You told me that three times already. That’s why I made us come here, to the shitty safehouse with no air conditioning or internal plumbing, instead of the one that’s on the Strip.”

  “The Auditors have a safehouse on the Strip?” Hayley went pale with shock. “Why aren’t we there?”

  “Because fucking Alistair knows about that one, and it doesn’t have a terminal.” Xia shifted over to a nearby keyboard and tapped in a few commands. Alice peered at the monitor above, and then grinned. “Aha! We have a connection to the Network! At least, I think we do. Right, Xia?”

  Hayley pushed through Min-jun and Grigori to stare at the neat blocks of text on the monitor.

  “Ping-back. Confirmation codes.” Hayley’s eyes narrowed. “Why are we looking at a temporary page? Is this a maintenance server?”

  Xia glanced at Alice, then turned his attention back to the screen.

  “It’s the only one responding, I guess,” Alice explained. “It’s still up, but it’s a little wonky.”

  “The connection is terrible,” Min-jun pointed out, struggling to watch over two pairs of shoulders. “Why is it so slow?”

  “Because something screwed up the Ether. Remember?” Alice shook her head. “You kids are so entitled. Xia got us a connection, didn’t he? Show some damn gratitude.”

  “I don’t think the Network is actually responding.” Hayley pinched her lip. “Can you do a remote reset of the server?”

  “Can he what?” Alice shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even know what you are talking about. Can you do that, Xia?”

  Xia shook his head and went to get a bottle of water.

  “Damn,” Alice said. “Okay, Hayley, you’re up.”

  “Why am I…?”

  “Because it was your idea!” Alice glanced over at Xia, who paused from cleaning the bottle with a disinfectant wipe to shake his head again. “It’s beyond Xia, and I’m useless, so it’s up to you. Unless one of the boys wants to try?”

  Grigori shook his head, busy inspecting the stores. Min-jun shrugged, and then nudged Hayley.

  “Just try,” he suggested. “It can’t hurt, right?”

  Hayley looked dubious.

  “I don’t have the clearance,” she pointed out. “I don’t know the passwords.”

  “I’ll tell you all of them!” Alice pushed Hayley in front of the keyboard. “Just make it work, okay? I’m getting a little nervous.”

  “About Central?” Grigori stood up slowly. “I am worried about that as well.”

  “I’m not worried about Central at all. They’ve got Rebecca to look after them. They’ll be fine.” Alice frowned. “It’s us I’m worried about. We’re blind, and presumably still close-and-personal with the Anathema.”

  “You are worried about another fight with Alistair.” Grigori nodded approvingly. “It is a terrible risk.”

  “What? Not at all!” Alice smirked. “I can handle that crowd, even with a bunch of kids as backup. I’m worried about the Anathema getting away. Alistair is out there, doing who knows what. He could be on a plane to parts unknown right now.”

  Alice cracked open her own bottle of water and drank nearly half of it.

  “Right,” Grigori said. “I thought you were making too much sense.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Okoro, but we all must do as we must,” Anastasia said, leaning over his hospital bed. “It is my understanding that you are a Christian?”

  He tried to respond, but there was a tube down his throat and a mask over the lower half of his face, so all he managed was an inarticulate mumble. Chike nodded instead, frantically pressing the call button with his left hand, safely concealed beneath the hospital blanket.

  “Then I am sure you will understand my dilemma,” Anastasia said, handing her umbrella to a tall, suited attendant with a vampire’s sharp teeth and pallid complexion. “You agree that honoring one’s parents is an obligation, then? I have always believed that to be true, even when it was inconvenient. Family is very important, Mr. Okoro. Don’t you agree?”

  Chike nodded, his eyes fixed on what appeared to be a pair of black wolves sitting patiently at the foot of his hospital bed.

  “I’m glad that we share that point of view.” Lord Gao held Anastasia’s hand as she climbed up to perch daintily on the edge of his bed. “I find myself at a loss, Mr. Okoro. This is an unfamiliar state, and I admit that I do not much care for it. I am not a stranger to grief, but vengeance is something that I have kept a conscious distance from. I am not given to allowing emotion or tradition to dictate my actions, but present circumstances demand that I do exactly that, should I wish to honor my father and meet the obligations required of my station and lineage.”

  Anastasia paused and looked at him expectantly, so Chike nodded again. A nurse opened the door and took in the maids, the collared Weir, and the strange man holding a completely unnecessary umbrella, and decided she had other places to be.

  She ran out into the hallway without saying a word.

  “If I were the sort of lady to employ profanity, then I might be tempted to do so.” Anastasia sighed and brushed aside her veil, looking at him squarely with eyes reddened and makeup ever-so-slightly smeared by tears. “My family has been wronged, Mr. Okoro, and I am obligated to respond in kind. I must balance accounts with the Thule Cartel, and perhaps others as well, but I would feel better if I could speak to the Chief Auditor first. I have been unable to locate her thus far, but thanks to your unfortunate injury, I was able to locate you.”

  Anastasia folded her hands in her lap, Lord Gao waiting attentively at her side.

  “I do not wish to deprive you of rest or infringe upon your recovery, but I find myself doing any number of things I would rather not, just lately,” Anastasia said. “To the point at hand, Mr. Okoro, do you know where I can find Ms. Gallow?”

  One

  “It’s not fair,” Emily proclaimed, leading Alex and Vivik through the black mist that clung to the fused surface of the Outer Dark, each of them holding one of her hands. “It’s not right. What happened to me – to all of us – should never happen to anyone again. That’s what I decided.”

  Alex glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see the ruins of the World Tree behind them, but a massive wall of Ether, like an advancing cloudbank, obscured the location. Where the black mist of the Outer Dark met the Ether, the air combusted, and clusters of slow lightning emerged, illuminating the arid plains of the Outer Dark. The hair on the back of Alex’s neck stood on end, and each footstep crackled with static.

  “My parents saw me as a pawn, to be married off in exchange for some small measure of power or fortune,” Emily said, leading them through a narrow pass between massive outcroppings of leaden metal, bursting from the ground or embedded partially into it. “My own mother gave me advice on how to seduce you, Alex,” she said, squeezing his hand and bringing a blush to his cheeks. “A boy she had never met, that she didn’t know the first thing about. That’s the sort of place Central is, the kind of place that would call a factory for producing child soldiers a school.”

  The ground beneath his shoes was translucent crystal, warped and shattered by the ongoing calamity triggered by the death of the World Tree. The occasional intact vein provided Alex with an unobstructed view of the depths, where he could have sworn that dark
things moved, things the size of whales that slithered like serpents, far below the tortured surface of the Outer Dark.

  “I wanted something for myself, at least a few years of freedom, so I agreed to enroll at the Academy. You know how that worked out,” Emily said, her smile looking a little sad to Alex. “I turned to the Outer Dark in desperation, and they drowned me in a pit.”

  The metal outcroppings they passed were complex and textured, as if they had been worked with massive tools. The one on the right was sheared off at half the length of the other, sliced with laser-cut uniformity. The narrow spire of the intact outcropping opposite disappeared into the banks of black mist, obscuring its true height. The ground was badly fractured, forcing the group to walk carefully and watch their feet on the uneven and occasionally treacherous surface.

  “You arrived near death, Alex, and as soon as you were healed, they put you in the Program,” Emily said. “They taught you to kill before they taught you anything else. Doesn’t that say something about Central and their intentions?”

  Alex looked at the sky, a slab of abyssal glass fractured by the languid brilliance of the lightning. Great herds of Horrors gathered along the horizon; whether fleeing the calamitous death of the World Tree or moving toward it, he could not tell.

  “The cartels don’t protect the weak from the strong, they subjugate everyone,” Emily said, walking them directly through a spout of black mist that burst like a geyser from a fracture in the crystalline ground. “Auditors don’t reform or police, they enforce the status quo. Everything we were told was a lie, and they weren’t even very good lies.”

  There was a constant vibration, Alex noticed, the ground shivering beneath his feet and the sensation carrying through his body. The glassine surface below them was slowly disintegrating into the sand from which it had formed. He felt dread, and a hollowness in his chest that pulsed in time with an undefinable external rhythm.

  “Infrasound,” Emily explained, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry. What you are feeling is simply the death-cries of the Dholes, the horrible worm creatures that live deep beneath the surface. You can’t hear it, but I assure you, they are screaming.” Emily’s face wrinkled with distaste. “They are quite awful monsters, by the way. It’s nothing to feel badly over.”