The Blood Gardener (The Dark River Book 2)

by Michael Richan

  Notes on how to locate something called uralga — and sneak it into LeFever headquarters.

  Sneak? A asked.

  Yeah, Derick replied. Suspicious, isn’t it? He scooped up all of the papers on the desk and folded them in half, stuffing them under his belt. Let’s see what Osanna has to say about them.

  They walked through the rest of the residence. It was a two-story townhouse. Upstairs were bedrooms, and when he looked out to the dark street below, he could see lots of people walking along the paved sidewalk. There was more light than in most towns, and it was busy. In the distance, over the tops of the homes across the street, he could see the rise of LeFever headquarters.

  We’re in Atina, Derick said, surprised. That fold transported us all the way to Atina.

  A was straining to see over the buildings, so Derick picked him up.

  We saw that before, when we were walking to the stone fields, A said, looking out at the building that seemed to be hovering in the distance. Are we going there?

  Derick considered A’s question. Since Anna’s death, he’d made several resolutions. One was to make sure A was well taken care of, and he felt he’d been successful at that. Another was to kill those who’d raped and murdered Anna; wiping out the Raidarchists at Valkin had seemed to fulfill that promise, including the death of Yann. He remembered talking to Shath as he delivered the spirit of a saboteur to him, under the clock tower in Valkin, milking him for information. He’d learned about the levels of access at LeFever’s headquarters before Shath had double-crossed them. Back then he felt the impulse to shut LeFever down, to help the rebels complete their goals. Now, a hunted man, he’d told Mazlo he intended to end LeFever’s control of the Dark River, and knew he’d forever be on the run until that final resolution had been completed.

  Yes, he replied to A. We’re going there. But first we’re going back to talk to Osanna.

  - - -

  “Let me out of this thing!” the woman complained, her face the only part of her body visible through the mesh. “I’m claustrophobic!”

  “Answer my question, and I’ll release it,” Derick replied. He sat on the ground next to Osanna’s body, the papers spread out all around him. “Looks like blackmail to me. Like they threatened to expose you to LeFever if you didn’t do what they asked.”

  “You’re basically correct,” she replied. “There’s more to it than that, but yes.”

  “So I suppose I could expose you, too,” Derick said. “Let them know about your plans to sneak this stuff into their building. What is it, anyway? This uralga?”

  “It’s banned inside the headquarters,” Osanna replied.

  “Why did they want you to take it in?”

  “There’s someone inside Level 2 who’s having trouble communicating with a recent delivery.”

  “Delivery? What?”

  “A spirit was smuggled into Level 2 to a woman there who has access to the treatment programming. Supposedly the spirit was one of the treatment’s originators, and knows how to alter it. She can’t communicate with it though.”

  “What does uralga have to do with it?”

  “The spirit was housed in an incompatible setting for too long, and it corrupted the normal communication pathways,” Osanna grunted. “Uralga harmonizes things. It would restore those pathways. Theoretically.”

  A, Derick thought. It was stored in A too long.

  “But uralga is banned?” he asked.

  “When the organization got word that rebels were trying to use a spirit from the past to change the treatments, a whole list of substances were banned from the building. Anything that facilitated communication with a disembodied entity was removed.”

  Derick remembered the cube he’d passed to Shath, the one that contained the spirit Osanna was now describing. Shath must have delivered it to the mole in Level 2, as he said he would. Asshole followed through, Derick thought, even if he did try to have us all killed.

  “Why can’t the woman in Level 2 just take the spirit outside? Leave the building, use the uralga, and communicate with it at home? Why does this stuff have to be smuggled in?”

  “She’s not allowed out of Level 2. Most of the workers there are forced to live there, too.”

  “Then they should pass it back out, to someone who can communicate with it,” Derick replied.

  Osanna’s lips pressed together again.

  “Come on,” Derick said. “The jig is up, at least with me. Your best shot is having me on your side now, not the other way around.”

  Still she didn’t answer.

  “Don’t make me do something mean,” he said, reaching over to pat her cheek. “The nervespikes are over there. And I meant the threat about wiping out this house when I leave.”

  “No!” she said. “No.”

  “This house means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, it does.”

  “You’re Osanna when you’re here, and you’re Fulton when you’re there, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “The fold changes my sex whenever I pass through it.”

  “If I destroyed this house, you’d be stuck being one or the other, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m sure I could reestablish the fold at some point,” Osanna replied.

  “But it might take a while, huh? Do the rebels know about Osanna? Or do they just know Fulton?”

  Again her lips pressed together.

  “I wonder what they’d do if Osanna is stuck here, and Fulton never shows up to follow their instructions. You might lose Fulton altogether, right? No more brokering. I assume that’s how you paid for this house. It would be a shame to lose half your life. Might ruin the other half.”

  “They decided against passing it outside of the building due to the complexity of the information it has to relate,” she said.

  “So the option of least risk is you smuggling in the uralga?”

  “Yes. I’m one of the few people who can get it past security, which is why the rebels targeted me.”

  “How? How would you get it inside?”

  “In my blood,” she replied.

  “How would that work?”

  “I’d inject it before I go in, and once I’m inside, I’d filter it back out.”

  “How would you do that? What if you were caught?”

  “They let me work in a private conference room when I’m there. I’d need five minutes at most.”

  “And then what?” Derick asked. “What would you do with it once it’s out of your system? Take it to Level 2?”

  “I don’t have that kind of access!” she replied. “I’m strictly Level 1. There’s a man I’m supposed to hand it off to.”

  “His name?”

  “Shath.”

  “Thought so.”

  “You’re the one who delivered the spirit to him in the first place, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Derick answered.

  “You know, I have to admit, I admire you.”

  “What, you’re sympathetic to the rebels? Even though they’re blackmailing you?”

  “The blackmail is my excuse if I’m ever caught,” she replied. “I’ve taken jobs from the LeFever people for years now. I’m no fan; the whole organization is a bunch of assholes. It’s just money, and they pay well. My home here in the mountains is more important to me than anything they’ve ever asked me to do.” She scoffed. “Asked…more like forced. Once they start using you as a vendor, they don’t take kindly to declinations. You’re basically a paid slave with no choice in the matter.”

  “So you’re what, like a double agent? Helping the rebels while working for LeFever?”

  “I’m equal-opportunity,” she replied. “I take whatever job makes the most sense for me.”

  “But you’re under LeFever’s thumb?”

  “Yes. And I’d love to get out from under it.” She fidgeted within the mesh. “Take this off me, please! I’m not going anywhere, and you have the nervespikes. And the fire.”


  Derick pressed the button near her neck, and the mesh collapsed, leaving a single black metallic thread. He lifted it up, and A took it from his fingers, carefully winding it around the spool.

  Osanna rolled over, and was about to push herself up off the floor.

  “Don’t get up,” Derick said. “Stay here with me for a moment. This ID…” He raised the plastic card. “How does it work? Does it get you into the building?”

  “Very low tech,” she replied. “I show up at the front doors, show security the card, and they wave me through the scanners.”

  “Can you bring in others?”

  “I have before, yes, depending on the project.”

  “Could you get us in?”

  Osanna looked at Derick, and a slow grin spread across her face. “What are you going to do?”

  “I want to get inside. I want to figure out how to reach Level 1.”

  She snorted. “Impossible. Even Level 2 is impossible.”

  “Get us inside,” Derick replied. “Figure out a way.”

  “They’d recognize you.”

  “I can change how I look.”

  “They’d never allow the monochild in.”

  “He can turn invisible.”

  Osanna’s mouth dropped open. “Bullshit!”

  A had wandered to the other end of the room, where he was examining little figurines in a display case.

  “A?” Derick called. “Would you come here for a moment?”

  As A walked toward them, Derick said to A, Disappear from view as you walk toward us, would you? Osanna needs a demonstration.

  A’s body began to fade, and when he was still ten feet away, he disappeared completely.

  “Fuck me!” Osanna muttered.

  “Do they have anything that would detect him?” Derick asked.

  “I…I don’t know…” Osanna replied. “Is he still physically there?”

  Derick reached out, grasping until he found A, his hand wrapping around A’s arm, hanging oddly in the air. “Right here,” Derick said.

  Osanna rose from the floor and walked to where Derick’s hand hung, cupped as though he was holding something. She reached for where she imagined A’s head would be, and brought her hand down, attempting to pat the top of his head.

  Ow! A complained. He reappeared, ducking from the woman’s hand with a grimace on his face.

  “Then I guess he could walk in right behind you,” Osanna said. “As long as he stays close to you and no one bumps into him, they might not detect him.”

  “Good,” Derick replied. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” she said. “We can’t just walk in there. Showing up unexpected would be suspicious. It would raise lots of flags.”

  “We’re going in,” Derick replied. “Find a way.”

  “I have an appointment there in a couple of hours,” Osanna replied. “That’s when we should go. Everything will seem normal. Though I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish.”

  “When we get there, I need a place where A and I can be in solitude for a period of time,” Derick asked. “You’ll guard us, make sure we’re undisturbed.”

  “I’m not sure that can be arranged.”

  “Spend the time between now and when we leave figuring out how to make it happen. And the cover story we’ll use for me being with you.”

  Osanna grumbled and turned away.

  How long can you stay invisible? he asked A.

  A long time, A replied. I used to follow Monkey around in the lab for hours.

  Derick noticed Osanna heading for the door.

  “Remember,” he called after her. “I can burn this house down from inside a cell in Atina. And if you think you can survive just as Fulton, consider that they probably won’t leave you alive after I tell them what you’ve been up to.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” she answered. “I’m just going down to my office to review the details of a couple of projects, so I can complete the planning you requested.”

  Do you trust her? Derick asked A.

  Not at all, A replied.

  Let’s follow her and keep her within eyesight, Derick said, and they turned to follow Osanna downstairs.

  - - -

  They walked through the streets of Atina, Derick following Fulton, and A following Derick. He had already taken the trapweed seed, and his features had changed. A trundled along behind him, invisible.

  He’d never spent much time in Atina; most of the extractions he’d performed over the years had either been conducted in more remote places where the targets were trying to hide, or in Portsmouth where the targets were easy to find in the main square, rushing their minds out. What passed for wealth in the Dark River was on display here in Atina, considered a de facto capital by virtue of the LeFever headquarters. No real government existed in the Dark River, and the incredible wealth and power the worm treatments had provided to LeFever essentially put his organization in charge of things, able to enforce its will through the employment of Raidarchists and others like Fulton.

  As they walked through the streets, any single townhome he passed would have been a palace in a place like Corbin or Valkin. It made him feel little and insignificant, the same way he felt in the real world when confronted with an extreme difference in wealth. It reminded him of a visit he’d once made to a wealthy businessman’s home when he’d been the first responder to a burglary call. He remembered thinking that the man’s home was so opulent, it was likely that any random item from any room in that house was probably worth his entire year’s salary. Maybe more. And the businessman knew it; he ordered Derick around the house like a military general, expecting the police to follow his commands as if they were hired security guards. Other officers on the force obeyed the man, giving him more authority in their minds than they would have any normal person, assuming that his wealth meant he was to be obeyed. Derick had found the entire experience demeaning, and had told the man to stop issuing them orders. He was soon asked to leave the man’s property when a lieutenant arrived.

  Rich assholes, he thought, just as they turned a corner and the LeFever building came into view. It rose dramatically like a pyramid, somehow able to produce more light than the rest of the town. Derick found himself squinting, something normally reserved for firestorms in the Dark River.

  “We’ll go up those steps and into the front doors,” Fulton said quietly. “Follow my lead.”

  Stay close to my legs, Derick said to A. Don’t let anyone bump into you.

  Alright, A replied, already so close behind Derick he could feel the kid occasionally jouncing into him.

  “You’re an engineer I’m using on a project,” Fulton told Derick, his tone now deeper and more masculine. Derick could still hear Osanna in his voice.

  “What project?” Derick asked. “In case they question me.”

  “We’re trying to create a gigantic version of a Haas Box,” Fulton replied. “It’s called Project Troubadour. Don’t discuss details with security; they shouldn’t expect details anyway, and will become suspicious if you offer them. That should be enough to get you in.”

  “What if they ask who I’m with?” Derick asked. “Am I with you?”

  “Tell them you’re a freelancer, subcontracted by me,” Fulton replied. “I’ll tell them it’s your only planned visit, so they won’t bother to issue an ID. They’ll lecture us about me being responsible for you while you’re inside. Then they should let us in. I’ve taken people in before with a similar setup. Just stay cool and let me handle questions. Better to play dumb than say something that will make them suspicious.”

  They marched up the stone steps, and Derick felt butterflies form in his stomach. He’d never wanted to do undercover work, because he never believed he’d be good at lying.

  As they crested the last step, the large glass doors of the building appeared. Fulton pushed them open and confidently walked through to a second set of doors. Derick noticed the air; it seemed fresher. His resentmen
t returned, and he felt his resolve steel in response.

  Raidarchists manned security desks, and Fulton led them to the nearest one, approaching the creature behind the station casually, as though everything was routine. “I have an appointment with Doggerel,” he said, showing the Raidarchist his ID. Derick tried not to stare at the creature’s skin, its heavy rhino-like folds hanging from its chest and arms, but his memories from Valkin came rushing back. It was a creature like this that raped and killed Anna, he thought.

  Don’t get angry, A said from behind him. You make bad decisions when you’re angry.

  Right, Derick replied, realizing that he’d failed to wall off his thought from A about the Raidarchist.

  “Who’s…” the Raidarchist began, but Fulton cut him off.

  “This is an engineering subcontractor,” Fulton said. “He’ll only be visiting this once.”

  The Raidarchist looked Derick over, scanning his face and the rest of his body. Derick immediately felt uncomfortable, worried that his face might suddenly shift, or that A might become visible on accident. Then he told himself to stop thinking that way, that even the act of thinking it might present some air of dishonesty on his face that the security guard could detect. He tried to wipe the thoughts from his mind.

  The Raidarchist handed the ID back to Fulton. “Sign for him,” he said, handing the man a clipboard. Fulton filled it out and handed it back to the guard. “Go through,” the guard said, nodding.

  Fulton turned to pass through an archway that reminded Derick of a metal detector. Instantly his panic meter pegged, sure that it would detect his altered face or A’s invisibility. Fulton walked through, and Derick considered contingency: if some alarm went off, A was invisible and could hide, but he’d be exposed. He looked back over his shoulder at the route to the front doors, plotting in his mind how he’d reach them if something went wrong.

  He stepped forward, one leg passing under the device. Two more steps and he’d finished.

  No siren. No flashing lights.

  He felt A’s hand press into his lower back, telling him he’d made it through too.

  Fulton walked with purpose down a central hallway, and they followed. There were plenty of people passing them, wrapped up in their own thoughts and destinations, not paying any attention to them. Fulton turned down a smaller hallway and walked to a door marked C-7. He opened the door and stepped inside. It was a small office that contained a long conference table. There were no windows.