At no point had the Jansynians offered to share their bounty, but they at least had the good grace to ignore those who had taken refuge in what was quite literally their shadow.
Natives called it the Web. It had existed almost as long as the Crescent, but since the Abandon it had taken on a new life.
The city above was connected to the ground through one single, enormous lift. It was the umbilical cord through which all goods and all people moved back and forth between the Crescent and the freight yards on the ground. In between, a hundred stories of open air except for the spider’s network of girders and cables that kept the city aloft and stable. Within these supports, in the Crescent’s protective shade, a new arcology had sprung up. A tangled nest of canvas and plywood offered haven, if not safety, to a desperate community that grew larger every day.
As for the rest of this district, anything outside the protective shadow of the Crescent had already withered and died. Warehouses were useless when you had no goods to move and no way to get them anywhere. The only life, the only movement, was the line of traffic, like ants in a column, that travelled between the city and the Crescent receiving yard.
I crossed the street well before I reached the gates that opened onto Jansynian property. No reason to draw the attention of either the armed guards I could see, or the people watching through the cameras that kept a thorough surveillance on any space the Jansynians claimed. I knew enough about how Jansynian security worked to know I didn’t want to arouse the slightest suspicion I might be a problem.
Micah’s instructions led me further down the decaying street and around a corner, to a long line of run-down warehouses. I spotted him at once, the only person in sight. He waved me over to join him.
And what a location he’d found. Even in this neighborhood of neglected, decaying warehouses, the one he’d parked himself in front of stood out.
Blowing sand had scoured away all but a few small patches of dull white paint. That same sand had formed rippling waves that ran up against the building on all sides. This close to the city edge, the desert was hungry. Broken windows hadn’t been replaced or even boarded over, and one of the huge delivery doors along its side had broken off its hinges and gaped open at an angle.
“I’m so glad you came,” he said.
“I wasn’t given any choice.”
A shadow passed over us and Micah flinched. He squinted up, no longer smiling. I followed his gaze, but it was only one of the bird priests wheeling in the air. By now, even I recognized the patterns of a rain prayer. “Let’s go inside,” Micah said. “Get out of the sun.”
“Here? Really?”
He shaded his eyes and looked up again, but not at the bird priest. This time, his attention was focused on the inscrutable facade of the Crescent. “I’ll explain inside.”
#
The warehouse didn’t look any better on the inside. The small windows at the top of the walls provided insufficient light for the space. Towering metal shelves stood empty—the ones that still stood—but cast even deeper shadows between. The sand had made its way inside and crunched under my feet as we walked. The air was stale and suffocatingly hot.
“Is this where you’ve been living?” I asked, horrified, despite myself.
“Oh no, not at all. But we wanted this meeting on neutral ground.”
“Who’s we? And why all the secrecy?”
“Copper will explain. But, please, Ash,” Micah stopped, forcing me to stop with him. We faced each other in the gloom. “I know you’re upset with me. I get that. But you’re going to have to ease up. Copper, she’s touchy. And about as thrilled to be taking this meeting as you are.”
If this Copper woman didn’t want the meeting and I didn’t want the meeting, it seemed to me we could all just go home. “You came to me, remember? If you, or your people, don’t want me here, I’m happy to leave.”
Micah’s tranquil facade cracked. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being like this? I thought you’d be happy to see me. I thought you’d be happy to help us.”
“Happy?” I clung to enough professionalism not to raise my voice, but it was a struggle. “It’s been a year, Micah. A year since the last time I saw another priest alive. To know you’ve been out there and never once tried—”
“Stop it,” Micah hissed. “You don’t get to be mad at me. Not for this. I’m not the one who just disappeared. All this time, I figured you were dead like everyone else, and then it turns out all along you’ve been working the sort of cushy job I didn’t even know existed anymore? Do you know what I’ve been through? And you’ve just been—”
“It wasn’t like that!” I was getting louder. I couldn’t help myself. “I almost died, Micah. Six months in the hospital. Six months! By the time I got out, everyone was gone. The temple was gone. I couldn’t find…” I couldn’t go on. I didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to think about it.
Micah’s voice was flat as he spoke. “There wasn’t anyone to find. You were lucky. Those last few months were a nightmare. Actors and librarians. That’s all we were. How in the thirteen hells were we supposed to know how to disappear into the mean city streets? I wouldn’t be here—I’ll tell you that much—if it weren’t for Copper. I owe her everything.”
Actors and librarians. That much was true. Neither of us had been prepared for any of this. “What is this business? Why am I here?”
A sharp voice issued from above our heads. “Jansynians, Mr. Drake. That’s what we’re talking about. That’s why you’re here” I looked up, but couldn’t make out more than a small shape on the shadowy catwalk above. “Stop wasting time chattering.”
The shape retreated and I heard the sound of a door closing. I looked back at Micah, who stood contrite, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Smiles had always come so damned easy to Micah. He pointed towards a spiral metal staircase that was only listing a little bit. “Can’t keep Copper waiting. After you.”
#
I hadn’t been able to see it from the ground, but one of the offices had been rebuilt, with boards over the window and the door rehung. Light peeked out under the doorway and as Micah opened the door, a wave of cool air greeted me.
Other than the lights and the air, this office wasn’t in any better shape than the rest of the building. A skeletal desk had been pushed to the back corner, but that was the only furniture in the room. On the floor, surrounded by random bits of metal she was flattening with a mallet, sat the person who had to be Copper.
I’d seen pictures, videos, but I’d never met a Fyean up close. For the most part, they kept clear of Miroc, or any city with a strong Jansynian presence. I didn’t know if there was a proper form of address or appropriate greeting, so I kept my mouth shut, waited for Micah to introduce me, and tried not to stare.
Copper was small. Not just short—although she couldn’t have stood taller than four feet, if that. She was willowy, delicate, didn’t look capable of the force with which she brought her hammer down on the metal sheet. She wore nothing more than a simple leather tunic and thick leather gloves. Her extra-jointed toes and elongated facial features made her look oddly stretched, like she’d been pulled out of taffy, and the waving pair of antennae that grew up from her hairline did nothing to dispel that image. Both her antennae and the sweeping points of her ears were topped with the burnished metal that was her namesake. It shone against her pale gray skin.
“Ash, meet Copper.”
She yanked off a glove, and extended a hand to me without standing up. Her skin felt smooth and rubbery as we shook. Fyeans didn’t have exoskeletons or wings and feathers, but they were still on the far side of the human-like scale. And like the birds and the boneheads, Fyeans had mostly kept to themselves before the Abandon broke the world.
I got right to the point. “What can Price & Breckenridge do for you?”
The slight nod of her head indicated approval for my directness. She held out her hand, inviting me to sit. Which I did, dropping down to a co
mfortable cross-legged position on the cool metal floor.
The hard look in Copper’s orblike green eyes was at odds with her childlike stature. “Before we get into that, you need to know that you’re only here because Micah vouched for you. I don’t like this, bringing in outsiders. Your firm has a good reputation, and Micah swears that I can trust you.”
She leaned forward, her voice low and intense. “You’ll forgive me a blunt question, Mr. Drake, but how much is your integrity worth? To you or your firm? Because if your loyalty has a selling price, I need to know.”
“Copper!” Micah was outraged on my behalf, but I understood exactly what she was asking—and why. Since she’d brought up the Jansynians, I understood a lot of things.
Trouble was, while I wasn’t offended by her question, I wasn’t sure I had an answer. “I haven’t been with Price & Breckenridge long. I’d like to assure you they can’t be bought, but I don’t know that. Not really.” It was my turn to lean forward, matching her posture as I held her gaze. “But I can tell you that I know the Jansynians. I know what they have to offer and I’m not interested, and I don’t see how Amelia would be either.”
Copper picked up her mallet, but she didn’t set back to work, only twisted her fists around the handle. “Yes, Micah told me about your knowledge of the Jansynians. It’s why I agreed to this meeting. Why I’m willing to consider working with you people. But there’s only so far I’m willing to take you at your word.”
Copper bowed her head, closed her eyes, still clutching the mallet. Had she also been a priest? All I knew about Fyea’s church was that their symbol had been a hammer. The moment stretched on until she seemed to reach some sort of decision and opened her clear green eyes.
“Somewhere in this warehouse there’s a spy-bug hidden. Jansynian make. If you can find it and bring it back to me, you’re hired.”
#
What Copper wanted, she had no right to ask. She had no business expecting I could actually perform the task she’d set me to. Except that Micah had undoubtedly told her everything.
Jansynians guarded their technology closer than they did their children. Your average joker on the street has maybe seen one of their hovercars or the sleek black energy guns their people carry in public, but only at a distance and never close enough to touch.
I was the exception to the rule because I’d dated Seana. She’d been not just a Jansynian, but a Jansynian security specialist. I got a crash course in the cutthroat dynamics of Jansynian competition. Seana belonged to Arisia, one of the smaller corporations here in the Crescent, but being small didn’t make you any less of a threat to the bigger businesses.
Which meant people wanted to spy on her. Especially given the fact she was spending her time with an outsider. She had her own ways of dealing with threats, but she taught me what to look for, for the times she wasn’t there. And because I’d been young and unable to resist showing off, I’d bragged to my friends about the secrets she’d shared.
It never got me into the trouble it probably should have. And now it was working in my favor. Too bad it took the end of the world to find a use for this skill.
Seven years ago, fresh off my breakup with Seana, I could have put on a show. Back when I was in practice, I could have stood in Copper’s office, made a couple dramatic waves of my hand and not only located the spyware at a distance, but brought it winging back without ever having to break eye contact.
I wasn’t that man anymore.
Look, magic is dangerous. It’s change. It’s chaos. We try to control it, confine it, limit it, but it’s not like the laws of physics take a holiday just because we’re wielding cosmic forces. And I was really out of practice. And in a piss-poor emotional state for the focus I would need to safely pull off any fancy effects. Other than a couple minor effects—like that push in the subway—I wasn’t confident of anything. So I didn’t try to show off. Didn’t try to shortcut. I nodded acquiescence to Copper’s request and eased my way back down the wobbly spiral staircase to the warehouse floor.
I can’t deny a part of me was tempted to just keep walking. Right out the door.
What kept me here wasn’t obligation. This wasn’t about keeping my job or anything I did or didn’t owe to Micah. Kaifail help me, I was curious. Which pissed me off something fierce. Curiosity was not a survival trait. Curiosity belonged to the Ash who spent his time chasing mysteries in antique documents and arguing the points of magic theory so specialized that even other priests of Dark Kaifail would roll their eyes and call me a geek.
Amelia had flinched at mention of the city council, and now something was going on that involved the Jansynians in the Crescent above, and my traitor brain really wanted to know how all this tied together.
I pulled my NetPad out of the wide pocket on the inside of my robe. It lit up, too bright in the gloom. I blinked and opened a simple drawing program. I hadn’t touched it in months. Not since I’d tried to banish some cockroaches and accidentally exploded them. That had been when I recognized I wasn’t fully in control of myself, and I hadn’t dared touch the stuff since.
Now I had no choice. And, okay, it was kind of nice to be back to it.
Jansynian spy tech was practically magic in and of itself. Pinpoint lenses, flexible circuits, and a built-in camouflage made devices virtually invisible. They self-shielded so you couldn’t find them by the power they ran on. And they broadcast on a wave that, so far, no outsider had been able to crack.
Not that anyone was trying very hard. Human companies that invested obvious time and talent into reverse engineering Jansynian tech met with bad ends.
I sketched a couple quick symbols. Focus. Clarity. Vision. A warm-up more than anything, but it helped me relax. A familiar calm descended. The only safe mindset in which to work.
It had been years since I cast this pattern, but the shape of it settled into my mind like an old friend. I cleared the NetPad screen and started a new drawing. An eye. Instead of a pupil, I drew the symbol for vision. I stared at it, locked my focus until everything around me faded away. I felt the familiar twist in my mind, the tingle of energy that meant the magic had snapped into place.
I slid my NetPad back into its pocket and wandered slowly through the warehouse. I didn’t know what I was looking for, how strong the signal would be. Better to be careful than to try to impress Copper with my speed.
And there it was. A soft blue glow coming from one of the sagging metal shelves. Thankfully low enough I didn’t have to worry about finding a safe way to climb. I felt around in what was roughly the center of the glow until my fingers slid over a slick spot beneath the shelf. I peeled off a thin, clear tab no bigger around than my thumb.
How did Copper get this in the first place? Fyeans had no magic. How had Copper found this and—I hoped—rendered it safe?
I took my prize back upstairs and dropped it in Copper’s hand. “Nicely done, Drake,” she said.
Micah winked at me. “What did I tell you, Copper? Ash is our guy.”
But Copper still wasn’t convinced. I could see it in her eyes. And I was tired. “Either you want Price & Breckenridge or you don’t. Whichever it is, I’m done jumping through hoops.
“You have to understand.” Micah’s words were slow and cautious. “You will understand. This isn’t a simple job. There are forces at work here—”
“Jansynians, yes, I got that. And I have to say, if you want us to follow one of them around or break into the Crescent, that isn’t going to happen.” I didn’t even have to check with Amelia to know that was true.
“We don’t need you to spy on them,” Copper said with a sneer. “Who do you think reprogrammed their little bug? If I need information on the Jansynians, I can take care of that myself.”
I took a deep breath, let it out. I would not yell at a client. Amelia would consider that unprofessional. “Then why am I here?”
“Because my sister is in danger. They’re after her.”
Which didn’t answer my question,
only brought up new ones. “Who’s after her?”
“As to who—” Copper shook her head, her whole demeanor softer since mentioning her sister. “We haven’t seen any directly. Just found the spy devices and—” she stopped, chewing at her lip, looked over at Micah who nodded encouragement. “They’ve made two attempts so far. An incendiary device and a bomb.”
Two attempts. “And you found them before they went off?”
Copper rolled her eyes. “Of course we did. Just who do you think you’re dealing with?”
I realized I had no idea. “So why come to us?”
“Because it’s a distraction. And because, while we can probably keep ahead of them, all it takes is one mistake and,” she mimed an explosion with her hands. “Better if we can make the attempts stop. Better if Spark doesn’t have to worry.”
I understood Copper’s initial edginess better. I wouldn’t expect a good mood out of anyone hunted by Jansynians. But I still didn’t understand what I was doing here. “This sounds way outside P&B’s area of expertise. If your sister needed a lawyer, maybe, but…” I trailed off at Copper’s wide-eyed look of confusion.
“Just take the request back to your employer,” she said, still looking at me oddly.
Obviously I’d missed something. Maybe a lot. “I’ll do that, but Amelia’s going to have questions.” I assumed. “Like why are the Jansynians after your sister?”
She sighed. “I guess you’ll have to know. There’s a project—one they think they have ownership of. But really it belongs to my sister. And she won’t let it go, won’t let them just have it.”
I hadn’t met Copper’s sister yet, but already I had a lot of respect for her. Even if I doubted her survival instincts. “Brave of her. Is it something big?”
“It’s huge,” Micah said, leaning forward in his eagerness. “It’s everything. It’s salvation.”
City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World) Page 3
