“So?” Ben said.
Ched-Mulaar clacked his teeth in a wordless exclamation. “Mitchell Foxglove must have had the results of the DN” sweep weeks ago,” he said. “He kept the results to himself until this moment because he knew releasing them now would hurt our campaign the most.”
“In other words,” Kendi growled, “he let a murderer walk free to aid his own campaign.”
“So did Grandma,” Ben said.
“Yeah, but we were going to turn Wanda in after Grandma was elected.”
“In other words,” Ben said, “we let a murderer walk free to aid Grandma’s campaign.”
“Maybe so,” Kendi said, “but we didn’t...we weren’t...” He trailed off.
“Yeah,” Ben said quietly. “You know, I’m really tired of politics.”
Kendi sighed. “So am I.”
The next three days were spent in a frenzy of activity. Both Ben and Kendi made as many appearances as they could squeeze in. It was rough going. Everywhere they went, reporters asked for comments about Petrie. Kendi kept his answers short and scripted and tried not to look like he was operating on less than an hour’s sleep. He hated being away from Evan and Ara, but he consoled himself with the thought that it was only three days.
Unfortunately, his and Ben’s efforts seemed to have little effect. Salman’s polls dropped sharply, and even Ben’s power as the Offspring couldn’t seem to raise them to their original levels. Wanda Petrie, meanwhile, stayed in her jail cell and refused to speak to anyone, even her own lawyer.
On the day of the election, Foxglove and Ched-Pirasku were leading the polls, but Salman made a close enough second that the feed analysts declared it anybody’s race. Salman announced the time for speech-making was over. She rented the same gymnasium that Foxglove had blacked out, thereby creating the “Taper” nickname for the Unionists. The place was crowded with Salman supporters, most of them high-level campaign workers, volunteers, and other celebrities who had, like Ben and Kendi, endorsed Salman’s campaign. Kendi looked around at the crowd of humans and Ched-Balaar that formed a chattering, talking mass on the auditorium floor. Holographic signs silently shouted slogans. Irfan Chose Salman! Salman Saves the Forests! Salman Keeps Us Safe! Giant feeds projected on the walls and as free-standing holograms stood ready to report the latest exit polls. The voting itself had only opened a few hours ago, too early to expect projections. “n undercurrent of expectation and hope threaded through the crowd.
Off to one side, Ben cradled Evan in one thick arm as he talked to Keith and another human Kendi didn’t recognize. Lucia stood nearby with baby Ara. Reporters were everywhere, but they’d had to agree not to broadcast pictures of the infants before Salman’s team would grant them entry. Salman herself was talking to Yin May, while Ched-Mulaar browsed through the enormous buffet. A young man was chatting up Martina by the drink bar, and Kendi made a mental note to find out who it was. Bedj-ka sat on the floor in the corner playing some kind of miniature holographic game with a pair of children his own age. Tan had taken up a post by the main doors. Kendi looked up at the stage, remembering how much had happened since he had stood in the audience with Gretchen and watched Salman declare her candidacy.
Speaking of Gretchen...he thought, and scanned the room. Gretchen was nowhere in sight. That struck Kendi as strange. In the past few months, Gretchen had spent more time on duty than off, and it seemed unlikely she’d absent herself today. Kendi trotted over to Tan to ask about it.
“No idea,” Tan rasped. “She was supposed to be on today, but didn’t show up. No one else could come in, so we’re short.”
“Gretchen didn’t show up?” Kendi said, uneasy. “That’s not like her. She may be abrasive, even bitchy, but she’s always reliable.”
Tan tapped her earpiece. “Gretchen Beyer.” Long pause. “No answer. I can leave a message if I want, but I already did.”
Kendi’s unease blossomed into heavy worry. “I don’t like it, Lewa. Ched-Theree said a whole bunch of Silent and Silenced have disappeared.”
“Oh god.” Tan looked worried herself. “I should have wondered if something was up, but I’ve been so busy coordinating with Senator Salman’s—anyway. We should check her house.”
“Let’s go,” Kendi said. “I’ll get Ben and—”
“By we, I meant not you, Kendi. It could be dangerous.”
“Gretchen’s saved my ass more times than I can count, Lewa,” Kendi said. “Besides, you said you were short-handed today. Who are you going to spare?”
“The Guardians can—”
“The Guardians can’t do anything until at least a day has passed,” Kendi interrupted. “By then it may be too late.” He tapped his earpiece. “Ben, Gretchen’s missing. We need to go look for her.”
“Kendi,” Tan warned.
“I’m pulling rank, Lewa,” Kendi said. “I’m going, and it’s going to be your job to keep me safe. So you better start planning.”
Ben, meanwhile, handed Evan over to Harenn and hurried over as quickly as he could without attracting undue attention from the reporters. Keith came with him.
“What’s this about Gretchen missing?” Ben demanded.
Kendi was already moving for the door. “I’ll explain on the way. Come on.”
“It’s not safe,” Tan said, catching his arm.
“I’ll come, too,” Keith interjected. “That’ll make two guards.”
Tan looked ready to protest further, but Kendi pulled away from her and headed out the door. Tan slapped her earpiece.
“Lars!” she barked. “Meet us out back with the flitcar. Now!”
Outside, the afternoon sun was shining. Lizards chirruped in the talltree branches, and spring flowers made merry rainbows in planters and boxes on balconies and window ledges. The walkways threading into the talltree forest around the gymnasium were busy with people, many of whom walked with one hand pressed to an ear as they listened to the feeds. A silver flitcar hovered just outside the gymnasium doors. Tan made sure the way was clear, then rushed Kendi and Ben into the vehicle with Keith close behind. Once the door was shut, Lars took them straight up. Kendi gave him Gretchen’s address.
“I want to go on record as saying this is an incredibly stupid idea,” Tan growled. “And that if anything happens to either of you, it isn’t my fault.”
“Noted,” Kendi grinned, feeling strangely exuberant. He was still worried about Gretchen, but it also felt good to be out there and doing something instead of giving speeches and letting people shepherd him around.
Gretchen lived in an apartment building near the boundary of the monastery and Treetown. On the flight, Keith abruptly dropped into a sullen silence. Ben stared out the window, obviously worried. The ever-present feed announced that early polls showed Foxglove with a two-percent lead over Ched-Pirasku. Salman trailed in a distant third place.
The apartment building resembled the beehive structure near the site where Ben and Kendi had made the blackmail dropoff, though this building was in better repair. Lars landed the flitcar on the roof, which poked up above the talltree. He left the flitcar running as Tan, Ben, Kendi, and finally Keith got out and dashed toward the stairway door. They clattered down the echoing stairwell to the fifth floor, where Gretchen had her apartment.
The corridor was a little dingy, and the wooden floor hadn’t been swept in a while. Tan moved ahead of the group to Gretchen’s door. She pressed her ear to it and listened, then pressed her thumb to the doorplate. From inside, Kendi heard the muffled sound of the computer announcing Tan’s presence. No response. Tan pressed her thumb again, then knocked. Still nothing. Kendi shifted from foot to foot, his nerves rubbing raw. Gretchen might be inside, hurt or unconscious or even dead and Tan was taking unreasonable precautions. He finally shouldered her aside and tried the door. It was unlocked. Before Tan could protest, Kendi burst into the apartment. Tan and the others boiled in behind him.
The living room was a total mess. Furniture lay askew, carpets were rumpled, and
a broken coffee table scattered splintery shards across the floor. A circular scorch mark scarred one wall.
“A struggle,” Kendi said.
“No kidding,” Ben said.
“We need to call the Guardians. Don’t touch anything.” Tan tapped her earpiece.
Keith advanced cautiously into the room and disappeared into the kitchen. He reemerged a moment later. “No one’s there.”
“We should check the bedroom in case she’s...unconscious,” Ben said. He didn’t mention the word dead, but Kendi heard it nonetheless. Kendi dashed down the short hallway to the bedroom with Keith right behind him. On the way he checked the bathroom. Empty.
In contrast to the living room, Gretchen’s bedroom was perfectly tidy. Bed made, closet door closed, curtains drawn. Kendi dropped to the floor and checked under the bed. Nothing. A flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. He flung himself sideways just in time to avoid the knife. The blade hit the floor with a thunk. Adrenaline singing in every vein, Kendi rolled to his feet. Keith yanked the knife free and brandished it at him.
“Keith!” Kendi said. “What the hell—?”
Keith lunged. Kendi twisted aside and collided with the side of the bed. He lost his balance and fell flat on his back on the mattress. A silent snarl twisted Keith’s face. Part of Kendi’s mind noticed that Keith’s eyes had a glazed look. Then Keith leaped forward, bringing the knife down. Kendi flung up his forearm and blocked Keith’s wrist. He stared at the knife pointed at his throat.
“You son of a bitch,” Keith hissed. The knife quivered. “You and your Outback bullshit. You’re going to join the Real People real soon and there’s no way you can stop—”
“Help!” Kendi yelled. “Ben! Lewa!”
Keith shoved the knife downward with surprising strength. Kendi felt a pinprick as the point pierced the skin above his jugular vein. He struggled to push Keith’s hand away, gained a centimeter, lost it.
And then Keith vanished. Kendi heard a crash and a cry of pain. He got to his feet and saw Tan pressing Keith face-first against the wall. His right hand still was still clutching the knife, but Ben was beating his wrist against the wood. Three blows, and the knife clattered to the ground. Tan used her body to keep Keith pinned and pulled out a set of wrist restraints. In one swift movement, she got his hands behind him, closed the silvery bands around his wrists, and activated the restraints. The bands stuck together with a firm click.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tan demanded.
“Are you all right?” Ben asked. “You’re bleeding.”
Kendi checked his neck. A streak of blood smeared his hand. “Just a scratch.”
“I’ll kill you, Outback boy!” Keith snarled at the wall.
“Shut up,” Tan snapped.
“Why did he attack you?” Ben asked. “Where’d he get the knife?”
“The kitchen, I think,” Kendi said. “As for why...” Kendi stared at Keith as several thoughts came together. “All life, we’ve been idiots! Ben, we have to get into the Dream. Now!”
“Kill you!” Keith howled. Tan rapped his head against the wall.
“What are you talking about?” Ben asked.
“Do you have your dermospray with you?” Kendi rummaged around in his pockets and found his own. “We don’t have much time.”
“For what?” Ben demanded, producing his own dermospray. “You don’t even have your spear.”
“I don’t need it,” Kendi said. “It’s just easier if I have it. Lewa, keep an eye on Keith. We’re going in.”
“But—”
“This will go faster if you quit talking to me,” Kendi said. He lay down on the recently-rumpled bed and thumped the dermospray against his arm. Ben shrugged and lay down next to him to do the same. Kendi closed his eyes. It was hard to relax at first. The adrenaline from the fight hadn’t worn off yet, and he was tense. It also felt strange not to be leaning on his spear. But eventually years of practice took over, aided by the drug. Colors swirled behind his eyelids and he found himself in kangaroo form on the flat, empty plain of the Dream. Whispers swirled around him. A moment later, Ben flicked into view, his rapid appearance creating momentary distortions in the air and ground.
“What’s this about?” Ben asked.
“Shush!” Kendi said, and stretched to his full height, listening hard. “This way!”
He bounded off, leaving Ben with little choice but to follow. Kendi dashed over the flat, gray ground as fast as he could, knowing that in the Dream, Ben could keep up with him on foot. Moments later, he crossed a boundary, and both men found themselves in a plush office that overlooked a skyscraper skyline. The strange Silent Kendi had chased several weeks ago sat in his executive chair, eyes shut in concentration. They popped open when Ben and Kendi appeared on his turf. Kendi didn’t hesitate. He leaped over the desk and landed with his full weight on the man.
The man yelped with pain and surprise as the chair went over backward. Kendi shifted shape into a camel. His great split hooves pinned the man’s shoulders to the carpeted floor. Kendi felt the man’s bones creak and the man cried out in pain. With his hind legs, Kendi kicked the chair backward out of the way, and it crashed against the rear wall.
“You were whispering to my brother,” Kendi snarled at him. Thick camel spittle spattered the man’s face. “You took advantage of the fact that he was suffering from depression and that his mind had been damaged from the time he spent on Silent Acquisition Station. You whispered to him, made his depression worse, made him attack me, and I want to know why.”
The man shut his eyes. Kendi bit the top of his head and ripped out a hank of dark hair. The man screamed. Kendi spat out the bloody hunk of scalp.
“No concentrating,” he said. “And no leaving the Dream. Ben! Can you keep watch and make sure the son of a bitch doesn’t disappear?”
“Not a problem.”
Kendi glared down at the man. “Explain what’s going on.”
“Fuck you.”
Before Kendi could respond, a small sledgehammer popped into Ben’s hand. With a sickening crack he broke the man’s little finger. The man howled in agony. Kendi gasped and shot Ben a startled glance. Ben’s attention, however, remained riveted on the man’s contorted face. Kendi recovered his composure. They could talk about it later. Right now they had to extract information. The man continued to yowl like a kicked cat. Kendi leaned down and snorted saliva into his mouth. The yowls turned into spits and sputters.
“Let me tell you what I already do know,” Kendi said. “Maybe it’ll loosen you up. Keith was—or you were—behind all the attacks on me from the beginning. I was too stupid to see it because it never occurred to me to suspect him. Keith knew I was going to meet him at the shopping center, and Keith knew I would cross that particular walkway. The amateur hologram showed him with his hand in his pocket because he was detonating the device that severed the branch.
“When that didn’t work, you got him to try the poisoned dart. He oh-so-casually volunteered to walk me home from his house after the rain cleared up, then let the bodyguards get ahead so he’d have a clear shot from behind me. I even saw him move, but I thought he was looking for the culprit.
“After that, you got him to plant the pieces of the bomb. He was right there in the nursery just before it exploded. In fact, Keith was the only person who was on the scene for all three murder attempts. You were whispering to him the night of the explosion, telling him to start the detonation process. Except I was in the Dream, and my subconscious picked up on what you were doing. I must have known even then it was Keith, but I didn’t want to face it. So my subconscious mind scared me out of the house. It should have been obvious what was happening. What I want to know is why.”
“Who do you work for?” Ben interjected. “Tell, or I’ll break your thumb.”
The man’s face contorted as he struggled with his dilemma. Blood ran from his scalp where Kendi had torn out the hair. Ben raised his hammer and the man flinched. So did K
endi, though he tried to hide it. He had never seen Ben bloodthirsty before.
“All right!” the man said. “I work for Silent Acquisitions.”
“Of course you do,” Kendi sighed. “S” would be in a perfect position to know that Keith’s mind is weak and that you could whisper him into doing things he would normally never do.”
“You’re also working for Padric Sufur,” Ben growled.
The man nodded.
“Can I say ‘I told you so’ now?” Ben asked.
“Save it for later,” Kendi said. He shifted back into kangaroo shape and sat on the man’s chest. It made for easier conversation. “Why does Sufur want me dead?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” the man spat. “He wants to make sure Reza loses the election. You—and the Offspring—keep giving her chances to win.”
“And Sufur wants Foxglove to win,” Kendi said. “He’s funding Foxglove, isn’t he? It’s where Foxglove got the money to take over Othertown’s mining corporations and everything else he’s snapped up.”
“He’s funding Ched-Pirasku, too,” the man said. “It doesn’t matter to him who wins as long as Salman Reza loses.”
“Why?” Kendi demanded. “What’s so important about Salman Reza?”
“I don’t know,” the man said, and Kendi knew it was the truth—lies were impossible in the Dream.
“Is Sufur the one behind the missing people?” Ben asked.
The man remained silent.
“Trouble remembering?” Kendi said. “Let me remind you how the story goes. A whole bunch of good Bellerophon citizens have turned up missing, and all of them are either Silent or Silenced. Including our friend Gretchen Beyer. What do you know about her?”
“I don’t know any Gretchen Beyer.”
“That doesn’t answer my main question. Why is S” making people disappear?”
The man shifted beneath Kendi’s heavy hind feet. “Look, S” owns me. When Mr. Sufur says ‘jump,’ I jump. You think I liked manipulating your brother? His mind is so sad, and I had to make it worse.”
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