He closed his eyes.
“Just be safe and get back here, okay? That’s it, I guess. Oh, and tell Ms. Gallow not to be mad at me. Or at Katya. None of this is her fault, or my fault, I swear.”
Alex rubbed the dog on the top of his head and then let him go.
He left the door propped open behind him, in case the dogs wanted or needed to leave the kennel. He did not think that they would run away, and even if they did, Hayley would surely be able to find them.
Alex hurried across the building.
He found Emily where she said she would be, in an enormous room at the rear of a laboratory. He knew the function of the space immediately, as it was nearly identical to the room beside the mustering area in the Auditor’s building, a round disc of featureless metal laid in the center of the floor, with a cluster of consoles and wired equipment at one end.
Emily stood in front of one of the consoles, poking at a touchscreen.
“I thought there were no more apports,” Alex raised his voice to be heard across the room. “Isn’t the Ether all fucked up?”
“That is one way to put it,” Emily said cheerily, not looking from the screen. “You are mostly right. Standard apports are limited in range, and quite dangerous. The fixed relays still work, though, assuming they are powered at both ends, and one has the proper access codes.”
“What good does that do us?” Alex said, hurrying over to join her. “Aren’t all the other fixed points outside of Central?”
“Almost all of them,” Emily agreed, tapping the screen. “Lucky for us, then, that our intended destination is also outside of Central.”
“You told Eerie we weren’t going far.”
“I thought that would make her feel better.”
“Oh, come on. You thought it would make us more likely to agree.”
“Don’t be angry, Alex. This is all quite important, and in any case, we are going to help a friend of yours.”
“What? Who are we…?”
“You’ll see. I promise that you’ll be glad we did this,” Emily assured him. “Are you ready?”
Alex gestured at his cobbled-together kit as he yawned.
“You’re tired. I can’t imagine why,” Emily observed wryly, shrugging her clutch off her shoulder and opening it. “Let me see…”
“It won’t be a problem.”
“Can’t have you falling asleep just yet,” Emily said, extending her hand, two small blue pills on her palm. “Take these. Two now, and then two more in a few hours.”
Alex eyed the pills doubtfully.
“What are they?”
“Adderall, taken from the Auditor’s own medical facility,” Emily said, smiling reassuringly. “To be used for this express purpose. The bottle even has your name on it,” Emily said, rifling through her purse with her other hand. “Ms. Levy must have had it prepared, because the instructions say to prescribe on her orders.”
Alex took the orange bottle she handed him and squinted at the label.
It was exactly as Emily said, instructions and all.
He opened the top, removing the white plastic lid. The bottle contained another twenty or so pills, identical to those in Emily’s palm.
“Take them,” Emily urged. “Keep the bottle. Who knows what will happen, right? The longer you’re away from Eerie, the less likely you are to keep your eyes open – that’s what I think, anyway.”
Alex glanced at the instructions.
“It says to take one.”
“Every prescription says that. This is an emergency. You’ll be fine.”
He read the rest of the tiny printed text.
“No more than four in a twenty-four-hour period,” Alex read aloud. “Take with food.”
“Fine. Just take one. You’ll need a second pill, unless you accidentally fall asleep first and ruin everything. You do know what will happen if you nod off, even just for a second?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, looking at the pills in her hand. “I fall asleep.”
“Yes, and while you are asleep, we all die, probably. Is that a risk that you wish to run?”
Alex took the pills from her.
“Do you have a bottle of water, or…?”
Emily laughed and coaxed his other hand into the shape of a cup. She passed her palm over it, and his hand was suddenly full of water, the excess spilling between his fingers to the floor. Alex hurriedly swallowed the pills, chasing it with the handful of water. They were chalky and dry, catching briefly in his throat.
“You’ll feel better in a few minutes,” Emily assured him, patting his arm. “Shall we get going?”
“Where are we going?”
“We are going to glamorous Henderson, Nevada.”
“Where?”
“It’s a suburb,” Emily explained, taking his hand and leading him to the platform. “Outside of Las Vegas. Lots of subdivisions, very boring and very safe.”
“Except for us,” Alex corrected. “It won’t be at all safe for us, will it?”
“Probably not boring, either,” Emily agreed, reaching into her purse and then handing him something. “You’ll probably want this, though I hope very much that you won’t need it.”
Alex took the matte-black pistol from her and examined it. A discreet Kimber semi-automatic in nylon housing, an expanded magazine protruding from the butt of the pistol, automatic laser sights activating as he gripped it. He clipped the holster to his belt and accepted a pair of spare magazines from Emily, sliding them into either pocket.
“Holy shit, Emily,” Alex said, glancing at the purse beneath her arm. “What the hell do you keep in that bag?”
“It’s completely full of drugs and guns,” Emily said. “Say what you like about me, Alex, but I refuse to be considered boring.”
The apport was as jarring as a rollercoaster or a car crash, over before it began and yet lingering timelessly in the frigid Ether, grey torrents tearing through him and chilling him to his core. The heat of the desert was a brutal contrast to the cold of the Ether, and the hot wind carried a fine dry dust that immediately settled in his nostrils.
He kept his eyes closed until he was sure he wouldn’t be sick.
Somewhere nearby, he could hear Emily coughing.
He blinked the stars into focus, the ambient light of Las Vegas obscuring all but the brightest. They were on the sidewalk beside the cultivated landscape of a country club, the illuminated greens shining like emeralds against the beige landscape. Alex cleared his throat, spat into the gutter, and then went to check on Emily, who was lying on her back in a nearby driveway.
“Are you okay?”
“That was awful,” Emily said, rubbing her eyes. “So much worse than I thought it would be.”
“Worst apport fucking ever,” Alex agreed, crouching beside her. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I’ll be fine,” Emily said, reaching out. “Help me up.”
He pulled her up, and she stumbled into his arms.
Alex froze. Emily grinned at him and leaned weakly against his chest.
“I just need a minute,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m still dizzy.”
He held her awkwardly, his arms high up around her shoulders. He caught himself glancing around, as if he were afraid to be witnessed.
“Sorry, Alex,” Emily said quietly.
“For what?”
“Being inconvenient,” Emily murmured. “Interfering with your happy ending.”
“I never know what to say to you, Emily.”
“You could try being nice.”
“Am I…am I bad to you?”
“I suppose that depends on your perspective. I know you don’t intend to be cruel.”
Alex winced, his arms tightening around her.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to apologize,” Emily said, opening her eyes. “I want you to grow up. I suppose I’m much like Eerie in that regard. Don’t you think?”
“Are you okay to stand? Not so dizzy?
”
“I can stand, but you don’t have to let go of me,” Emily said. “I know you don’t want to.”
There was a twinkle in her eye as she smiled at him. Alex released her with an effort, taking a little step away for good measure.
“Lie to yourself if you want,” Emily said, a pert smile on her lips. “You can’t hide anything from me. I feel everything that you feel, clear as day.”
“I thought we were past this,” Alex said, putting his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake. “I thought we had moved on.”
“I think it’s more a question of exactly what we’ve moved on to,” Emily said. “What do you want us to be? Shall we be friends?”
Alex glanced around, eyeing the identical houses of the subdivision across the street, and the hanging nets around the country club that shielded them from errant balls.
“What are we doing here?”
“We are here to save a friend of yours. How do you feel?”
“Look, I already told you…”
“Not about me,” Emily said, laughing. “The pills, dummy. Do you feel awake?”
Alex paused and considered it. He felt invigorated, even enthusiastic, the palms of his hands sweaty, an electric tingle running down his spine.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think they worked.”
“Good,” Emily said, taking his hand and leading him down the street. “Remember to take another if you start to feel sleepy. Don’t risk nodding off, okay? If you do that, we are all in big trouble.”
“I understand,” Alex said, very aware of the hand grasping his own. “I won’t fall asleep.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“Good. Now, let’s see…”
She turned a corner into a cul-de-sac that dead-ended into the dark of the desert.
“…the house that we want is…not this one, not this…”
The houses were well-lit, but so identical that Alex was unsure how Emily told them apart. Only the vehicles parked in the driveway and the minimal landscaping seemed to differ.
“…no, no, and…aha! There it is!” Emily pointed to the second to the last house on the left. “The one with the flag and the basketball hoop in front. That’s what we are looking for.”
Emily smiled and pulled him to a stop, still half a block short of their destination.
“Why? What’s in that house?”
“An old friend of yours, in need of assistance. Though she does not know it herself.”
“She?”
“Of course. With you, it’s always a lady,” Emily said, giggling. “You aren’t much for hanging out with the other guys, are you? The only boy you are friends with is Vivik, as far as I can tell, and you’ve been rather awful to him lately.”
“That’s not fair,” Alex complained. “We’re still friends, it just got a little complicated.”
“Relationships are complicated,” Emily said, squeezing his hand. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“Emily, who are we here for?”
“You’ll see in a moment,” Emily said, stepping close. “There’s something I need, first.”
She pulled him into a shadowy side yard between one of the track homes and a cinderblock wall. The air was hot and smelled of dust and new paint. He tried to back away, or at least he meant to do so, but Emily was still very close, the skin beneath her white dress warm and yielding.
“What?”
“I just need to be close to you for a moment,” Emily said earnestly. “I know you won’t mind.”
He intended to recoil. Again, he did not go anywhere.
“Why do we need to do that?” Alex asked. “What the hell is…?”
“Two purposes,” Emily said. “Mine and yours.”
“Stop teasing,” Alex said. “Why would you want to…?”
“To save your friend, Alex, I’m afraid I need to be a much more powerful empath than I have ever been.”
There was that twinkle again in her eyes, when she looked at him.
“We’ve done this once before,” Emily said. “On Anastasia’s island, when we were alone, together. Do you remember?”
He nodded slowly.
“My protocol. The catalyst effect. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?”
“Yes. That’s it,” Emily agreed. “I need you to augment my empathic and telepathic abilities. For that to happen, I need to be the focus of your attention. I need us to be close.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Isn’t it just? Now that you understand,” Emily said, putting her arms around him, “I’d like to go ahead. I won’t bother asking for your permission. I can see it in your halo.”
He had no time to ask what she meant by that. Emily felt very natural in his arms.
His head buzzed and spun, and his skin tingled. He hardly moved, sensitive to every place that their bodies touched. The desert wind tickled his back and sweat dripped into his eyes.
“Wow!” She laughed. “I nearly forgot what that feels like.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, his hands moving to her hips.
“That was hardly required,” she said, laughing as she slid from his arms. “What exactly do you think you are you doing?”
He wondered the same thing, unable to meet her eyes.
“You are so mean,” she chided. “Eerie would cry her eyes out if she saw that, don’t you think?”
Alex stared at the ground, the blood rushing in his head.
“I feel incandescent,” Emily said, throwing out her arms. “You really are something.”
She smiled mischievously, and it was all he could do not to reach for her.
“Now that we’ve both had our moment,” Emily said, smoothing wrinkles from her dress, “shall we save your friend?”
***
Song Li was considering relocation.
She stood in the kitchen, not far from the back door, where she had held a brief conversation with Alistair more than twenty-four hours before. There had been no need to move since then, so she had not. It was already hot, for one thing, and there was nothing to do but wait.
The refrigerator, covered in advertisements for the home rental service and a variety of local restaurants, was as good a view as any in the bland suburb. The setting was a pity, Song Li reflected, because she was an avid golfer, and had enjoyed membership in several prestigious clubs when inhabiting male bodies, as was her general preference. Having the links just across the street was maddening, given her current circumstance.
Song Li appreciated the utility of the male form, the easy social acceptance and access that went with it, and despite the lithe build of her current shell – her own preferred nomenclature for the corpses she occupied – she found existing within it burdensome. The corrosive black blood within Mitsuru Aoki accelerated the decomposition process, something that Song Li’s nanite population normally stymied for months, and the inactive neural implant was an unpleasant dead weight in her skull.
Song Li was aware of the passage of time only by watching the patch of light on the refrigerator fluctuate. The small clock flashed a green triple-zero endlessly at her from the nearby microwave as she held her internal debate.
Mitsuru Aoki had been an Auditor, and even without her neural implant, she was the user of a formidable Black Protocol. That was nothing to sniff at, in a shell. Such things were rare. Song Li had never been an Auditor before or employed an M-Class protocol. That was not something to toss aside casually.
On the other hand, there was the smell, and her strong suspicion that the shell’s various wounds were festering faster than the nanites could repair them. Her shell was covered in such injuries, mostly inherited from the previous tenant.
It said a great deal about Mitsuru, Song Li thought, that she had to cut herself to use her protocol.
At the very least, Song Li experienced none of the shell’s pain. It must have been a horrible way to live, Song Li reflected, needing to open her skin just to do something a
s elementary as use her protocol. Song Li felt a little sorry for Mitsuru Aoki, and suspected that the Auditors who had killed her had done her a favor.
Song Li moved her eyes just slightly, to the kitchen knives in a nearby wooden block, and wondered if she would be able to cut herself like that, if she had to feel the pain.
If it was not a shell, but a body. Her body.
Song Li tried to remember what that had felt like, being in a cage of meat, tethered by a web of nervous tissue. A body that hurt, that tickled and sweat and had a beating heart throbbing behind the breastbone. A body that used the bathroom and grew tired and hungry, that felt anything at all when it was taken from behind, as Alistair had been so eager to do when she first acquired this shell.
Not so, now. Not since the rot had set in.
Alistair had left to hijack an apport station and return to Central, and there was no way to tell when he would be back.
Depending on how it went, he might not come back. Song Li had no illusions about their relationship. She was useful to Alistair, and the moment her usefulness expired, he would get rid of her. Song Li was comfortable with that.
It was a familiar sort of relationship.
Moving on her own would require a new shell. She could not go out in public any longer with this one. The only reason to linger in it was if there was more fighting to be done, if the Auditors found her.
She did not like the idea of being caught in a shell that did not operate a protocol, but that sort of anonymity was her best chance of leaving the area unnoticed. Stealth might very well have been the best available defense, but she found the idea of being defenseless repugnant.
Song Li could not remember the last time she had occupied a shell that had not previously been an Operator, and she had no intention of breaking the habit.
The Auditors tracking her here, seeking retribution for the attack on Michael Lacroix, Karim Sabir, and Chike Okoro, would be a perverse sort of good fortune. This shell was more than capable of killing one of the junior Auditors they had rushed into the field, Song Li reasoned, and then she would have options.
The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 30
