Disciple: DreamWalkers, Book 2

by Jody Wallace

  She’d felt the wraiths use her. Five wraiths, two carcasses, and the end of her culpability. Or was it? Who was to say her conduit had sealed when she’d woken? Zeke and Adi hadn’t been able to detect her sig, which meant someone had been hiding her. That same someone could have hidden malingering conduits.

  Sixty percent confidence.

  But they could have hidden anyone’s conduits—like Karen’s.

  Eighty percent confidence.

  Yet Maggie had created wraith carcasses. She not only had crappy shields, she didn’t even know what she was capable of. If she couldn’t gauge her capabilities, could she gauge her culpability?

  Fifty percent confidence. Dammit.

  “However,” Adi was saying, “the infrequency of weak shielders doesn’t explain everything. Can you tell us why the wraiths in Harrisburg didn’t pursue you, Karen? Is that a skill like healing?”

  “They needed me,” Karen said. “I was the portal. I had to be kept alive. In fact, they hid me from you in the terra firma too.”

  “Wraiths have the brainpower not to kill their creator?” Zeke scoffed. “Tell me another one.”

  Karen drew her hands into her lap without Zeke having to shake her off his arm. Her thin fingers clenched in a wad of bony knuckles. “Large hordes aren’t like an initial showing. They’re hive-minded, and the Master controls the hive. I don’t know how else to explain it. Is this not something the Somnium has researched?”

  “Why, no, Karen,” Zeke said sarcastically, “we haven’t manifested hundreds of wraiths to see if they act like bees.”

  “What about the ones yesterday?” Karen asked. “Is that the largest mass since my possession?”

  Maggie noted Karen’s use of the word “possession”. The woman accepted the blame and denied true culpability at the same time. She was either exceptionally manipulative, schizophrenic, traumatized, or all of the above.

  “Yes, it was the largest,” Adi said. “We rarely deal with accidents on that scale.”

  “Did you detect any patterns? Did they seek their creator or were they sidetracked? I know they didn’t seek me. We saw no signs of them banging on my room door.”

  Again, no one looked at Maggie. She had no idea if the wraiths had hunted her, but manifestations had been coming after her since her first field mission. Surely Karen wasn’t trying to say Maggie had generated them all?

  “What did they do yesterday?” Maggie asked when nobody answered Karen.

  “They hit the morgue and ate human corpses,” Zeke said. “I’d call that getting sidetracked.”

  Karen opened her mouth to respond, shut it, and finally said, “Oh, no. That’s awful.”

  “Are you expressing sympathy for the deceased or does that mean something to you?” Adi asked.

  “Remember how I said the Master was stronger now? This proves it. He’s teaching them. Evolving them. He’s giving them a purpose beyond death and destruction. I don’t know how else to convince you.” Karen buried her face in her hands and started sobbing. “We’re all going to die if I fail again, Adi. I don’t know what to do.”

  Adi soothed the distraught woman. “You have to complete your training. Zeke will be with you in the sphere. Your Master, whoever he is, might be able to penetrate your shields but not Zeke’s. When you’re capable of full linkage after you matriculate, any of us can shield you—and I can learn the healing ritual. It will be invaluable to the entire Somnium. Think of all the lives you can save. All you have to do is cooperate.”

  Karen cried harder. “Can’t teach it. Can’t go there. Please don’t make me. Don’t make me.”

  She began to rock back and forth, sobbing pitifully.

  Adi tried again. “Zeke is a talented L5. One of our strongest. Now that you aren’t hiding the truth from him, he’ll be able to protect you.”

  “No, no, no. It’s not enough. I know his shields are… What if the Master makes me hurt him? What if they get him? I would die. I would die. They can’t have him.” Karen whipped her hand away from her face and stared toward the ceiling, as if that was the location of dreamspace. Her eyes blazed like blue neon in her thin face. “Do you hear me? You can’t have him!”

  “Nobody’s getting me,” Zeke said uneasily.

  Adi set her tablet computer on the table and regarded Karen kindly. “I’ll assign guards to monitor your training session in the sphere. The guards may not be able to link with you, but they’ll be able to link with Zeke. Scan the sphere. Prevent him from being vigil-trapped. We’ll make this work. If this Master tries to approach you, we stand ready.”

  “Zeke has to be protected,” Karen insisted. “No one can harm him after what the Master—I mean, what I—already put him through.”

  From the expression on Zeke’s face, Maggie could pretend he mostly wanted to be protected from Karen. But he might just want to escape all the crying. His brief concession this morning that emotions sometimes happened, like after lovemaking, was one of the tenderest moments she’d witnessed in him.

  “You orated with me,” Adi coaxed Karen. “You’re advanced. We might matriculate you within minutes of entering the sphere.”

  “I’ll say she’s advanced. She can vigil-trap L5s,” Zeke muttered.

  Maggie thought that was pretty damn pertinent, but Adi and Karen ignored him. Adi continued speaking. “Once you’ve progressed, we’ll layer our shields over you. That will protect both you and Zeke.”

  Karen’s tears ceased, and she stared at the vigil. “What about a curator? That might work. They’re special.”

  Adi raised her eyebrows. “It wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest to petition one. I thought you understood.”

  “Then I’ll need ten L5s.”

  For the first time during the interrogation—when it wasn’t inspired by Zeke—Adi’s expression hardened. “That won’t be possible.”

  “They don’t have to be vigils or sentries.” Karen gripped the edge of the table. “Just L5s. I won’t feel safe otherwise. I know you don’t believe me. I know you think I’m crazy. If you won’t take the threat of the Master seriously, I’ll have to take him seriously for all of us.”

  “Adi doesn’t respond well to blackmail,” Zeke commented. “Trust me, I tried it when I found out she wanted me to cut Maggie loose and help you instead.”

  The look Karen cast toward Maggie had no tears in it. No fear in it. No sorrow in it. If there was a supervillain here, Maggie knew who it was.

  Or who she hoped it was. A psycho ex made more sense, and was more manageable, than a vicious, other-dimensional entity bent on unleashing a horde of wraiths to vanquish the terra firma.

  “If you allow her into the sphere again, there will be blood,” Karen said slowly, as she shifted from sobbing victim to someone deliberate, confident, calculating. “And the regrets will no longer be mine.”

  Zeke stood abruptly and towered over Karen. “Are you threatening Maggie?”

  “I’m stating a fact. I have a shot at protecting us from the Master if you give me the L5s I’ve asked for. I know what to expect from that monster. She doesn’t. I daresay she doesn’t even remember manifesting all those wraiths.”

  “Because she didn’t,” Zeke said. “I would have known.”

  “You know nothing.” Karen’s eyes glittered. How could Zeke and Adi not see the complete about-face in Karen’s demeanor? She had Machiavelli smeared all over her. Even her linguistic structures were different. “You never even sensed she was there.”

  Maggie couldn’t let that statement go unchallenged. “But you did. You saw me.”

  Karen shook her head. “I saw wraiths flooding around us until it was black. I was very frightened.”

  Since that was Maggie’s standard experience in the dreamsphere, she didn’t comment, but Adi nodded. “Yes, the wraith density was heightened beyond the levels we’ve come to expect at th
e coma station.”

  “It was the biggest dreamsphere horde I’ve ever seen,” Karen agreed. “The Master never sent wraiths after me in such numbers. And they had forms, which speaks of a neonati’s inexperience and panic. I assumed he was trying to prevent you from rescuing me, but now I know. He was after the girl.”

  “We only have your word on that,” Zeke said, though he didn’t try to deny that wraiths had inundated the sphere. “Your word ain’t worth shit.”

  “We don’t know for certain what happened, but we cannot deny the facts.” Adi watched the byplay between Karen and Zeke as if were part of the interrogation.

  “Did the girl tell you only a few of the wraiths were hers?” Karen didn’t rise but somehow dominated the room. A chill bled into the air. Had the vents kicked on high?

  Zeke bristled with testosterone and laid a hand on the hilt of a dagger. “I believe Maggie. I trust her.”

  Karen gazed at him with the same sudden chill as the air. “You trusted me once. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Maggie’s not you.”

  “She’s not your lover, you mean?”

  Maggie froze, hoping guilt wouldn’t ooze through her pores. When she risked a glance at Zeke, his expression was too ferocious to reveal their secret.

  “Of course she’s not,” Zeke said.

  “Good, because that would complicate matters. Again.” Karen shifted her attention to Adi. “And you, Adishakti Sharma—you yearn for knowledge, but you aren’t sure if you can trust me. I won’t lie. You’re right to be wary. All the more reason for reinforcements, don’t you think? I’ll lower my requirement to five L5s instead of ten, and one can be you.”

  “I’ll assign whatever guards I feel are necessary,” Adi said sternly. “You shan’t dictate the terms.”

  “If you don’t want a curator involved, you’ll get those L5s,” Karen insisted. This was not the same woman who’d been sobbing and begging for hours. “We need them. We need them—we need you—for protection if you insist on forcing me back into the sphere, not to mention the girl.” She tugged her white-blond hair in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Zeke, like someone who’d spent a lot of time around him might do. Like Maggie had, only recently, found herself doing. “I’m not asking for favors. I don’t want amnesty or forgiveness. This isn’t blackmail. It’s vigilance. Put me under as much guard as you can spare. Then spare some more.”

  “And you swear, after matriculation, you will show me the healing ritual?” Adi asked. “Or will you renew your demand for a curator tomorrow?”

  “No,” Karen said. “I want this over with. Zeke can matriculate me so I can link to other alucinators. I was close to graduation when the Master caught me the first time. Then I’ll do as you ask.”

  Adi’s goal had been to achieve a full link with Karen in order to assess her skills and honesty in the first place. The snag was the involvement of additional people who might be exposed to the truth about the healing magic—and who knew what else.

  “How long will we need the L5s?” Adi asked.

  “Not long,” Karen said. “I don’t want to return there. Ever. Not with the things he made me do. Promise me I’ll be given a lobotomy afterwards.”

  The request surprised Maggie. Karen actually seemed to want a lobotomy—to be separated from the dreamsphere that gave her a power beyond regular humans. What did the demand mean about Karen’s honesty and motives? Now that Maggie knew the good she could do for the world with the Somnium, she couldn’t imagine losing the alucinator part of herself.

  Adi responded evenly. “I promise.”

  As if her supervillain act was nothing but bravado, Karen slumped into her chair and clasped her hands at her chest. Her eyelids lowered. In a whisper, she said, “Then I suggest you recruit your best L5s. We shouldn’t risk the entire world just because you want answers. Do we have a deal?”

  “We do,” Adi said, and Maggie’s stomach bottomed out.

  Why, she wasn’t sure. It made sense to summon reinforcements when dealing with Karen Kingsbury. Hell, it made sense to summon reinforcements when they’d experienced a cryptic code one. But since this was what Karen recommended, it couldn’t be good.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Little man, this had better be over with soon.” Lillian, an unusually worried expression on her face, clapped Zeke on the shoulder. “I was about to log an entire weekend of vacation when Adi summoned me. Do you realize how long it’s been since I took a vacation?”

  “Couple years?” he guessed, disassembling his gun for a quick check. Lill and a former disciple of hers, an L5 named Candace Merriweather who worked the Gulf Coast these days, had arrived at the coma station mid-afternoon and had been redirected to the outbunker before they even got to take a piss. “What were you going to do, anyway? Cook? That ain’t a vacation.”

  “For your information, I had reservations at a new fusion restaurant in DC. And a date. So shut it.”

  Lillian, who’d been briefed on the situation, would swing double duty tonight as Maggie’s crutch and one of Karen’s guardians. Candace was another guardian, along with Blake—Zeke was surprised the guy was an alucinator, much less L5—and Sergeant Roberts, who commanded unit fifteen. It had taken Adi hours choose since anyone involved would be drawn into the mystery of the speed healing that she’d been trying to keep hidden.

  Adi trusted Lill and Blake, but Candace and Roberts were a gamble.

  “Maggie’s shield improved,” he told Lill. “It may hold, and all this worrying is for nothing. If it don’t hold, Maggie’s just gotta keep her conduit locked so we don’t get manifestations. I figure you can talk her through any panic.” Meanwhile, he’d be linked with Karen, making sure she couldn’t tear off and vigil-trap Maggie.

  Lillian glanced at Maggie, shoved in the far corner of the common room where most of them were going to bunk during the mass trance. Not Maggie, though. Her sleep tonight would be natural. She should be in no danger as long as she kept herself buttoned up.

  Legs crossed and expression bland, Maggie was paying more attention to the book in her lap than the hubbub around her.

  “We’re assuming I can orate with her,” Lill said. “The other times she’s done that, you were there.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.” A tangible could influence abilities in unpredictable ways, but he had confidence Lill and Maggie could communicate. Whether or not he’d been able to sense her, Maggie had still overheard Karen and Adi in the sphere. She’d relayed sentences she couldn’t have picked up any other way. Her shield deficiencies were her Achilles heel. Her progress in other areas wasn’t lacking.

  If she could crush wraiths in the dreamsphere, she may have progressed beyond standard measurement. Could her disappearing off everyone’s radar be an aspect of that skill, enabling her to sneak up on wraiths undetected or something? Worth a thought, though it wouldn’t solve much if they couldn’t bypass it.

  “You better not let her get hurt,” he told Lillian. “When she’s asleep, she can’t get hurt-hurt, but it would be bad news if she manifested.” If she lost her grip on her conduit, there would be consequences beyond the danger of wraiths.

  “You think I’ll bring a curator down on us?” Lillian joked. “Not hardly.”

  “Just remember what I said about Maggie’s signature not showing up.” With Adi’s primary concern being Karen and the healing, they hadn’t discussed Maggie’s invisibility in any detail.

  In fact, Adi had let Zeke know in no uncertain terms he was to concentrate entirely on Karen until she matriculated. Not only that, but he had to be nice to her.

  It rankled.

  Lill nodded. “Once I find Maggie in the sphere, I’ll tell you, like we agreed.”

  They both avoided glancing at Karen. Adi, Constance, Blake and Roberts discussed their plans while guards came and went. Karen clutched a pillow to her chest and listened with wi
de eyes, when she wasn’t staring at Zeke. During the dreamspace mission, they’d have a soldier in the terra firma stationed beside each alucinator, a medic on duty, and more guards strategically placed around and outside the bunker.

  Adi and her staff had pre-defined the situation as code two. They weren’t taking any chances. Nobody had said it out loud, but Maggie was the one the fools were worried about. They should be worried about Karen.

  “The first time a phase two hits the sphere alone is always shaky.” Zeke considered what Maggie could expect tonight. He wanted it to be smooth for her, to knock the heat off her and aim it where it should be. “She won’t have a mentor waiting for her like other phase twos. She’s gonna have to endure things other disciples don’t, but she’ll still be judged.”

  “Her training has been irregular since day one,” Lillian said. “She handled it better than most would have.”

  “Wish you could have linked with her that first night.” When he and his team had realized he’d formed a tangible with the neo they’d just collared—Maggie—they’d tried to assign Lill as her mentor, considering what had happened the last time Zeke had had a tangible with a disciple. Unfortunately, Lill hadn’t been able to synch with Maggie, forcing Zeke to step up. “I bet everyone would be better off.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Lill fingered a scar on her arm. “This shit with Karen would still have come to a head, and you wouldn’t have Maggie to see you through it.”

  “She’s my disciple. It’s my job to see her through things.” He re-snapped the clip into his gun. “I’m supposed to have answers, not make it worse for her.”

  He couldn’t tell Lill, not here, what Maggie thought she’d done—killed two wraiths in the trance sphere. Lill knew about the carcasses, but no one had mentioned the Antipodes scroll. After a code one where wraiths had desecrated the morgue and killed several alucinators, a couple of outlier carcasses weren’t top priority. They’d been shipped off to the manifestation tank along with the live ones.

  “I’ll do what I can for Maggie,” Lill assured him. “Smartest thing for you to do is act like you don’t care.”