Through a Mirror, Darkly

by R F Hurteau

  Terrance shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

  Nelson’s nerves were too delicate just now for this. “Have you even looked at it since I left? Or have you just been swapping jokes with Killian all this time?”

  “Oh. Sure, I looked at it. Tinkered with it a bit, even.”

  This was more promising than anything Nelson had heard so far.

  “Good. Good. Show me what you’ve done.”

  He followed the larger man out into the main control room and along the walkway to where the weapons station sat unattended. Confused, Nelson glanced around.

  “Where’s the team?”

  Terrance only shrugged. “I told ‘em to take the rest of the night off. They seemed tired. It’s late, you know.”

  “You told them to...” Nelson struggled to wrap his brain around this proclamation. “And they all...they all just…listened?”

  “Sure. Seemed quite happy I suggested it.”

  Nelson balked.

  “You aren’t in a position of authority,” he managed to choke out. “You don’t even work here. You aren’t even a New Sanctuary citizen!”

  Terrance seemed to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think they cared much,” he pointed out. “They left anyway.”

  “We are experiencing a crisis. We are under threat of invasion and have no way to defend ourselves and you sent away the entire team working to repair the weapons system.”

  Terrance gave him a winning smile. “Relax, peacock. I don’t need all those busybodies poking around. I can handle it myself. I work better alone, you know. Here, take a look.”

  He reached down into the innards of the machine and pulled out what appeared to be some sort of long toggle dangling at the end of a thick blue wire.

  Righting it in his hand, he demonstrated its function by sweeping it back and forth.

  “See how smooth?”

  “Sweet Evenmire,” Nelson whispered in horror. “What have you done to it?”

  “Well, it’s like I told you before. Your biggest mistake was trying to go so hi-tech. Now, I don’t blame you. I see this kind of thing all the time. People are always over-complicating things–it’s just human nature. If I had a Monarch for every time some idiot brought me a bit of broken down pre-Sequencing garbage they wanted me to fix...well, I’d have a lot of Monarchs, we’ll just leave it at that.

  “Anyway, if you add too many features, you’re just facing a future of constant repair as this piece or that program fails, resulting in a cascade of problems and troubleshooting. The answer is always to go as simple as you can. Less work in the long run. But since I’m essentially retrofitting it to what you’ve already got, it’s extra work for now. Trust me, though, you’ll thank me when I’m done.”

  He held up the toggle in Nelson’s direction, as if he wanted him to give it a try. “Don’t worry. It won’t be more’n a few days.”

  “But what am I supposed to tell the people at the meeting? We need to inspire them!” Nelson asked, his frustration evident.

  Terrance shrugged again. “You’re a politician, aren’t you? So you can tell them whatever you want. I’d just suggest it isn’t ‘We have working gun turrets,’ that’s all.”

  Nelson collapsed against the busted console, a lone piece of glass that had managed to cling to the frame tinkling as it bounced off wires and machinery on its way to the floor.

  “This is your fault,” he told Terrance glumly. “If your team hadn’t shown up, if you hadn’t come into the city...”

  “Now just hang on,” Terrance said, indignant. “First of all, we didn’t just waltz in here uninvited. Your men came and dragged us out of our drill! And second, this is your fault.” He pointed at Nelson.

  “My fault?”

  “Believe it. First rule of politics, peacock. When you’re running the show, everything is your fault. Get used to it.”

  Nelson went back to his office and locked the door behind him.

  There were four hours until he would be standing before all of New Sanctuary, and the Council was depending on him to ease their minds. He hadn’t even prepared a speech.

  His thoughts drifted back to the last time he’d been up on stage. Holding a quivering, injured child in his arms as chaos and death swirled around them like a raging river.

  A child that would soon be an orphan.

  A child that Nelson had made an orphan, when he’d voted on the side of those who wanted to see the Halfsies sent to Geo.

  He needed to harness his old self, the one who always had a heroic speech prepared, just in case. What had happened to that Nelson? Where had this old, tired version come from?

  Deep down, he knew. He’d been swept away by the river of death that night. He’d been baptized by fire, his old self burned away until only this hollow shell remained.

  “Sylvia?” he yawned into his earpiece.

  “I’m here, Nelson. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to warn you,” he told her, “about some trouble I ran into. I thought it might be something you should mention in your speech.”

  “You too, huh?” Nelson heard the worry in her words. “I came across two separate groups trying to stir up trouble. They claimed they were within their rights to question our authority. I suppose they’re right. But still, it was...unsettling.”

  He nodded to himself. “Just wanted to make sure you were aware of the whole picture. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yeah, see you, Nelson.”

  He left Core Operations feeling disheartened and more than a little nervous.

  He thought about finding Ben, talking things over with him. Ben had always been a good listener.

  But then he remembered that his friend was most likely outside, inspecting the drill. He would not be able to help Nelson from out there.

  Instead, he somehow found himself wandering the halls. Sigil was quiet at night. He’d always liked that about this place, even when the Elves were running things. He’d never minded the night shift, because he enjoyed being able to hear himself think.

  Now, however, in the wee hours of the morning, faced with the looming meeting that might easily turn into another Reclamation Day disaster, it was as if his thoughts were shouting at him, and he would have given anything to quiet them.

  Would the people accept the word of the Council, or would they grow angry that they’d been kept in the dark?

  He felt his anger at Edwin stirring again. He should have foreseen this. He could have warned Edwin what the risks were of keeping all of this under wraps. Had Edwin forgotten? Forgotten what the people of New Sanctuary were capable of? Nelson looked down at his hands, wrapping them around the memory of that frightened little girl. He had certainly not forgotten.

  His wanderings ended at the door to the Council meeting chamber. He let himself in, expecting to find it empty, but a lone figure sat at the head of the table, sandy blond hair a disheveled mess.

  Edwin did not look up as Nelson entered.

  “Couldn’t sleep, either?” he asked absently, and Nelson shook his head.

  Edwin put down his work and flashed Nelson a grimace of understanding. “You finished with the fliers and the announcements, though?”

  “Yeah. Everything’s set.”

  “That’s good.”

  There was a long pause as the two men sat in silence, Edwin pondering a piece of paper and Nelson staring, eyes unfocused, at the wall, feeling his eyelids drooping.

  At last he worked up the energy to ask, “What are you looking at?”

  “Huh?” Edwin muttered, distracted. “Oh.” His face scrunched up in a look of disgust. “We aren’t the only ones who’ve been busy.” He slid the paper across the surface of the table to Nelson.

  Skimming it over, Nelson found himself no longer tired.

  “Unbelievable!” He shook the flyer as if it had done him a personal wrong. “You know, I saw a bunch of these loons a little while ago. Spouting off nonsense about how we’re no different than the Elves. The uppity
woman in charge actually had the audacity to suggest we thought we had some sort of right to these positions, like the Elves placed us here.”

  Edwin shrugged in defeat. “Didn’t they?”

  “No,” Nelson replied, appalled by Edwin’s apathetic response. “Did they form a Human Council? Did they keep people from starving after their exodus? Did they clean up the mess afterward?” He scowled. “They used us and then they left us. We were the ones who stepped up. I didn’t see this, this—” he referred to the paper gripped in his clenched fist, “Citizens for Truth Committee doing anything after the riots, did you?”

  Edwin shrugged, stretching. “Right now they aren’t my main concern.” Nelson could have argued further, given that Edwin had been sitting alone reading the absurd informational sheet, but found he wasn’t up to it. “I just want to put this city-wide meeting behind us and move on. You and Sylvia ready? Anything I need to handle for the speeches?”

  “No, we’ve got it,” Nelson told him miserably, causing Edwin to cock an eyebrow.

  “That doesn’t sound very encouraging.”

  Nelson grimaced. “I just spent half the night walking across two domes being bombarded by conspiracy theorists and ne’er-do-wells. I’m tired, Edwin. I just want to sleep.”

  Edwin nodded. “Almost.” He flashed Nelson a wink and the ghost of his usual charming smile.

  They parted ways not long after. Each had their own responsibilities to attend to. Nelson made his way toward the lobby.

  Most of the population of New Sanctuary was gathering outside the Sigil building at this very moment, and despite the reassurance he’d given Edwin, he still didn’t have any idea what he was going to tell them. Once he was up there, in front of the crowd, he was certain it would come to him. He’d always been good in a tight spot. And Sylvia would cover most of it, he was just there to answer questions.

  Not so long ago, he would have relished this opportunity. He would have resented Sylvia stealing the spotlight by speaking first. Now he looked forward to his turn with dread.

  Sylvia was pacing near the front entrance, her hands clenched together.

  “Where’s Edwin?”

  “He’s already out there. I think he’s worried about the chaos following the Reclamation Day riots,” Nelson replied. “So he’s making sure there are appropriate Security measures in place to quell any problems that might arise.” He scoffed. “A lot of good that did last time. But whatever. Come on. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Nelson and Sylvia stepped outside, and Nelson led her up to the podium that had been hastily erected on the steps. The crowd, which moments before had buzzed with anticipation, fell silent at their approach.

  “People of New Sanctuary,” said Sylvia, speaking in a clear, firm voice into the microphone. Nelson was impressed. From where he stood, he could see her hands quivering, knuckles white from clasping them together so hard. She was afraid of what might happen, too—but her voice did not reflect the fear he knew she was battling. “Thank you for taking time out of your day to join us for this historic City Meeting. I’m sorry that it had to be under circumstances such as these.”

  Nelson cringed at the same moment that several voices shouted out from the crowd. He should have asked to hear her speech first—they’d had plenty of time to go over it. He would have told her that that was a bad choice of words.

  The questions being thrown at her now were the same ones he had heard over and over last night. He had no doubt that she’d dealt with them as well.

  “Are we under attack?”

  “Who are these outsiders?”

  “Why are they here?”

  Sylvia unclenched her hands and raised them, motioning for quiet.

  “As you may have heard by now,” she said, her voice still steady, “we have recently discovered that New Sanctuary is not, contrary to what we had been led to believe, the only remaining stronghold of mankind. There are, in fact, survivors of the Sequencing outside of our city. And, as you also know, there are now several inside of our city, as well.”

  The murmuring rose up again. She waited for the people to settle down before continuing.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, we want you to know that we aren’t certain yet what to make of this discovery. The Elves lied to us, as they did about so many things. They told us we were alone, that we were the last of our kind. Now we find out that that isn’t true, and it will be a long, difficult journey for all of us as we sort through this plethora of new information.

  “I would strongly caution you to exercise wisdom and discernment in deciding who you should believe in the days to come. There are those among us that would seek to divide us, and right now working together is our greatest strength. We cannot allow rumors and hearsay to stand in the way of our well-being.

  “Some of the things I’ve come to share today might not be what you want to hear. We, too, have more questions than answers at this point. We do not yet know how many people exist outside of the domes. We do not yet know how many of those that do can be counted as friends or how many should be feared as foes. Certainly, there are potential allies. But there could also be dangerous enemies. We are approaching both of these possibilities with cautious optimism, and we will be keeping all of you informed, every step of the way.”

  She paused for such a long moment that Nelson thought she might be finished.

  He almost made a motion to move toward her when her mouth opened again.

  Her voice was stronger now, not just steady as before, but confident also.

  “I can tell you what we do know, though,” she said. “New Sanctuary was born in chaos, and from that chaos we have risen stronger and more united than ever before. In a short amount of time, we have overcome many obstacles, comforted one another through many heartbreaks, endured many hardships. And we endure still. So I will say this. No matter what obstacles or adversities lurk outside of the familiarity of these domes, we will be ready for them. We will protect our own, as we have been doing. We will look out for each other. Because at the end of the day, each other is all that we have. New Sanctuary will be strong. We will survive. Together.”

  The multitude broke into thunderous applause, and Nelson found himself clapping exuberantly along with the rest. He had to hand it to Sylvia, she knew how to work a crowd.

  Fifteen

  No Long Goodbyes

  THE sudden change in temperature took Felix’s breath away, and his eyes watered and burned. It seemed that no matter how many times he was forced into the harsh Antarctic landscape, there was just no way to prepare oneself for it.

  “Lead us to the prototype!” he commanded Bohai, his voice loud so that it could be heard over the wind. It raged around them, whipping at their cloaks and forcing Felix’s eyes into slits. He had seen wind like this before, during his short tenure as Observatory Attendant.

  A storm was coming.

  Bohai, too, appeared to be struggling with the sudden shock. He stumbled forward but Gavin’s arm flashed out, managing to keep the Ambassador from falling face first into the snow.

  Bohai looked at the hand that grasped him in fear, understandably wary of any kindness shown him by a Theran. He shook free of Gavin’s grip without so much as a word of thanks and trudged off, away from the Gate.

  On either side of Felix the Envicti stood in two silent rows. If the cold bothered them, their training did not allow for them to show it. Their eyes were masked beneath the dip of their cowls, offering no sign of discomfort that Felix could see.

  Bohai reached up with his bound hands and pointed.

  Felix took the lead, heading in the direction the Ambassador had indicated, the Envicti close behind him. Something large and pointed glimmered above the surface of the ice, jutting out at a slight angle from the ground. As they drew closer, Felix could make out more detail.

  It was a metal drill, the base of which disappeared behind a mound of drifted snow. He pointed to it, but the action was unnecessary. The Envicti alr
eady flowed by on either side of him, like a river around a rock, and surrounded the drill in a tight circle. Two of them stepped forward, crouched down, and slipped inside.

  As Felix came around the other side of the mound, he saw that the drill was massive, about eight feet in diameter at its base. Beneath the cone lay a hatch that just cleared the surface of the ground.

  There was no way to know for certain how much of the vehicle was hidden under the earth, but it had to have been fairly large because, two by two, all of the Envicti climbed inside.

  The last pair had just disappeared when Felix looked up to see Penelope appear through the Gate.

  She gasped reflexively, and even at this distance Felix could make out the unpreparedness in her eyes. The others followed seconds later.

  The Weaver waved them forward and they all rushed after him, Onyx and Tobias dragging Laevus between them, their prisoner allowing his legs to drag across the snow as if they were dead weight.

  Felix looked in the direction that they were heading and spotted the tunnel entrance. They had almost made it when the first Envicti poked his head out of the vehicle, climbing back out into the chilling air. Another followed, and another.

  Felix glanced behind them in a panic, watching his friends struggle to drag Laevus, who was gazing at his brother with a curious expression.

  Felix locked eyes with the first Envictus, who dropped his gaze.

  “Report!” he bellowed, stalling for time.

  “We overpowered them with ease, your Lordship. Three are bound. One resisted and was injured.”

  Felix felt as though he had been punched in the stomach.

  “Your orders were to subdue them! We may yet have need of them!”

  “I apologize, your Lordship,” he responded. The Envicti continued to climb out of the open hatch, swarming up out of the earth like ants escaping a flood. “The interior is very confining. It was difficult to maneuver in there.”

  “You are the Envicti,” Felix growled at him, poking him hard in the chest with a finger. “Nothing is supposed to be too difficult for you.”