“Few,” Talei, said.
She looked Balidor over unapologetically.
Balidor felt her use more than just her eyes. She was decently good at hiding her scan, but he wondered why she would think he would not notice, given who he was.
Arrogant, then.
Or deluded, perhaps. Too used to swimming among smaller fish.
At the very least, she appeared to be unused to working with seers who did not work for one of the human hierarchies. Balidor had seen this tendency before, in career SCARB infiltrators. A percentage of them seemed to forget that theirs was an insular world, and that the seers living outside of it didn’t necessarily care about their internal pecking order, or the fact that they were “someone important” within it.
Gaos, though. Jon was right in his observations about the Thai-looking seer.
She really did look like Cass.
Well. All but the eyes.
Talei finished her assessment, then grunted, her gold irises back on his.
“Most of the others with access to the maps, I cannot influence,” she said. Her voice was just the faintest bit subdued, enough that Balidor knew she’d gotten a good look at his light, at least the parts he let her see. “…They are contracted above my pay grade, frankly,” she added. “Mainly by private interests. They are not people I can influence through the usual channels.”
Turning, she gave Chandre a harder look.
“…They are, sadly, also out of reach of my bed.”
Chandre’s jaw firmed as she gave Talei an irritated look.
Balidor didn’t bother to react to the personal interaction.
He’d already picked up that they’d had a sexual relationship at one point. One might still be going on, but clearly, Talei was growing resentful, which meant the emotional side of things tilted in a one-sided direction.
Balidor wondered, with an internal sigh, if Chandre would ever be capable of letting go of the thing with Cass. He liked the Indian seer very much, so he hoped she would––and sooner rather than later. He also wondered if Talei knew she’d likely been chosen as a lover, at least in part, due to her resemblance to Cassandra Jainkul.
At the thought of Cass, however, Balidor’s own jaw hardened.
He’d seen the transcripts and conducted most of the debriefings regarding what occurred in that castle on the shores of Patagonia. He’d read images and memories off Jon, Allie, Revik, Neela, Jorag, Chinja. Even Wreg told him quite a bit, and without much prompting.
Balidor also saw a lot through the construct itself, while it occurred.
Even so, a part of him wished he’d been there with them, on the ground.
He knew it was foolishness, to think he could have influenced the outcome in any way, with Cass or anything else. Cass stopped listening to him around the time she moved in with that neanderthal, Baguen. If she was bedding that lunatic, Feigran, now, after everything Terian had done to her––
His jaw tightened more, even as he shook his head.
He couldn’t think about this now.
Cass was lost to them. The sooner they all faced that, in whatever way they needed to, the better. Anyway, if they were ever going to bring her back, they needed to get to New York first, reunite with the rest of their people. From there, they could resume the hunt for Shadow.
Presumably Cass would be with him.
More to the point, Balidor had to secure the Bridge and Sword.
That remained his primary responsibility, before he contemplated doing anything else––preferably before one of their intermediaries was gunned down by a flyer, captured by a band of mercenaries, or murdered by a mob of half-crazed and desperate humans.
Chandre’s dark red eyes shifted to his face, shining and flickering with reflected light from the chained overheads swinging in the wind.
From her frown, he might have thought she heard him.
Almost.
“We have to assume some of those with legal clearance are Shadow’s people,” Chandre said, that frown still touching her sculpted lips. “Talei is not just being cute. Most of those with information on how to access the city are elites, much more privileged in resources and access than the usual officials and government appointees, even high-ranking ones. They are also well-guarded, generally by their own private security. The mayor himself is secured in such a way. His personal power is well in excess of that due his elected position. All of those for whom we have names have access to private constructs, some run by dozens of seers.”
She glanced at Talei, still frowning. “Truly, it is a miracle she got us this information at all. We are very lucky to have it.”
“And don't you forget it,” the Thai-looking seer muttered.
Chandre ignored the dig, facing Balidor. “We will have company in New York,” she warned. “Of that, we can be certain. The House on the Hill must be secured. We must view this as a military exercise now.”
Balidor nodded, gesturing his agreement. Giving Talei a bare glance, he addressed Chandre, making sure no hint of accusation reached his voice.
“Is it possible Shadow arranged for us to get a copy of these charts?” he said. “Can we be certain of their authenticity? They will be looking for us to come here. It would be an easy way to neutralize us, to send us into the live grid.”
“They are real, old man,” Talei said, curling her hands into fists under her folded arms. “Would I risk my life, coming with you, if I were not certain of that?”
Balidor looked at her, his expression unmoving. After a suitable pause, his eyes shifted back to Chandre. Not an overt insult, but an implied one. It would be better if this seer learned quickly that he valued the word of his own people over hers.
“Based on how she got them, I believe them to be real,” Chandre said, answering Balidor directly. “We cannot be one hundred percent certain, of course. Shadow has fooled us in such things before.” The frown returned to her lips, right before she shrugged. “We are as sure as we can be. I can think of no other way we might breach the city, apart from a direct assault––by air or land. That strikes me as much more fraught with risks.”
Balidor nodded, gesturing his agreement in this, as well.
“Is our transport ready to move?” he asked politely, folding his hands at the base of his back. He glanced at Talei that time, including her in the question. “It would be better if we could get all of the seers inside now. Before we take chances on moving the humans.”
“We have capacity for 200, with minimal crew––” Talei began.
“We’ll crew it ourselves,” Balidor said. “We have sufficient numbers and the requisite skillsets for that. It will free up space for more of us. Between the infiltrators Wreg freed from Manaus and that other camp, our numbers are great.”
Talei made an indifferent sound, as if it was of no consequence to her.
Balidor hid a smile, however, when it occurred to him that he’d managed to intimidate her, and not only because she’d clearly picked up on his lack of interest in her “importance.”
“That brings official capacity to 300,” Chandre added. “We can push that to as many as 400, even 450, if necessary.” She grunted in wry amusement. “Or less, depending on what the Bridge and Sword bring back with them from their requisitions run.”
Balidor felt himself relax.
“That should be sufficient,” he said, smiling more genuinely. “We can still make more than one trip, if need be, but I would strongly prefer not to risk them changing the sequence, if one of our party were to be ID’d. Also, with this storm…”
Looking out the doors of the warehouse, he trailed, indicating the sky.
“Yes,” Chandre muttered, also glancing through the high opening. “The feeds are quite hysterical on the subject. There is some fear the water containment fields could fail around the peninsula, as well as at several other points along both shores, and the coast of Long Island. It could complicate things on the other side.”
“Overly?” Balidor press
ed.
“No, I do not think so. If anything, it will––”
“Where did your human go?” Talei broke in. She stared behind Balidor’s back, a mixture of curiosity and irritation on her face. “He is no longer there. Where is he?”
Balidor glanced behind him. When he confirmed that Jon no longer stood there, he only quirked an eyebrow, however.
“Is this relevant to our discussion, sister?” he said politely.
“You let him roam around free like that, when he could bring the disease with us to New York, infecting all the others?” She frowned harder, gesturing sharply. “Why is he not in his cage, with the rest of the worms?”
“He is immune to the disease, sister,” Balidor said.
“Just like that?” Talei snapped her fingers, her gold eyes narrow. “…He is immune? So why did you have him in the oxygen mask, if you are so certain of this?”
Chandre and Balidor exchanged a look.
Balidor picked up within Chandre’s very faint thoughts that she deliberately hadn’t given Talei a lot of information about Jon, or his relationship to Allie and the Sword, or about the Displacement Lists more generally.
Hearing her quiet message, Balidor couldn’t help but be relieved.
Whatever her taste in sexual companions, Chandre was no fool.
“He has been with us longer than those others,” Balidor said simply, looking back at the Thai-looking seer. “He can be trusted, sister.”
“No human can be trusted,” the other grunted. “No matter who he is. If he is human, he can be manipulated by our enemies. Read by them, at any rate. You must know this, old man. Humans are a liability in any infiltration scenario––”
“––He is also well-protected,” Balidor assured her.
Chandre glanced at him, clearly noticing Balidor hadn’t offered a lot of information about Jon, either.
Balidor had no intention of telling anyone outside their inner circle about Jon, however, especially in relation to the Displacement Lists. News of those lists hit the black market feeds, including the Rynak, in just the past few weeks.
Bounties for copies were already in the billions of Euros.
Balidor had Vikram and his team tracking down the identities of those interested parties, but the bigger priority was to secure their highly-ranked assets from those same Lists. There was still some chance the names could get out. The chance was slim, but not slim enough, in Balidor’s view.
Apart from the Bridge and Sword, Jon was priority one.
Balidor still couldn’t be sure if Shadow had any idea how important Jon was, but he strongly suspected not, or Jon would be dead. Shadow wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to eliminate him while he had Jon trapped inside that construct in Argentina.
In fact, the more Balidor thought about it, the more it struck him how completely foolhardy it was to let Jon go on that trip. They should have listened to Allie. She’d been adamant from the start that Jon should stay behind, that he was too valuable to have with them in the field.
The Bridge was usually right in such things.
Sighing internally, Balidor realized he would need to change Jon’s security status again, as soon as they reached the city. Jon wouldn’t like it, but that was just tough. It shouldn’t be difficult to convince Nenzi of the need, much less Allie or Wreg.
“There’s no doubt the human is cute,” Talei observed, looking Balidor up and down with shrewder eyes. Balidor felt a curl of her light around his and frowned until she backed off. “His light is… strange. Who is he? Is one of you bedding him?”
“He is very much spoken for, sister,” Balidor said flatly. “Although it is not I who is so honored. As for who he is, I’m afraid that’s a much longer story, one that will have to wait until we are on the other side of the water.” Balidor frowned at Talei, lifting an eyebrow. “Suffice it to say, it is crucially important that you treat him with respect, sister, and not take liberties with him. Sexually or otherwise.”
Talei smiled, her gold-colored eyes flickering up to Balidor’s face.
“Understood.” Pausing a half beat, she widened her smile, inclining her head toward the hangar doors. “Well, then. I suppose it’s time for a tour of our transport?"
Balidor made a “lead the way” gesture with one hand.
Chandre gave him a puzzled look, as soon as the other seer was no longer watching either of them.
Spoken for? Chandre sent softly, still staring at him. I thought Dorje was dead?
Grimacing, Balidor didn’t answer immediately.
He remembered that Chandre had been gone for many months.
Really, she’d been gone since it was thought she still worked for the Sword under Salinse. Moreover, she had spent most of her time in Albany subject to debriefings by his infiltrators, along with Maygar, Stanley, Varlan and Rex. As a result, Chandre had spent very little time with Allie, Revik, Jon or Wreg, so must not have witnessed the changes there.
Dorje is dead, he confirmed, equally quietly, without looking over.
So who is Jon with now? He said nothing to me.
Balidor avoided her probing stare while he thought about her words, following the petite Asian seer through the warehouse doors. She led them from the florescent-lit docking bay into a cutting wind at the dark edge of foaming, storm-churned water.
The weather had grown progressively worse over the hours since they arrived here.
If the water containment system around New York truly failed, navigating the quarantine protocols of FEMA and SCARB might end up being the least of their problems. He knew the hotel likely had its own emergency systems in place for just such an event, but to say it would pose logistical problems would be an extreme understatement.
Despite the bad weather, his worries about the grid map, his worries about keeping Jon alive and the reminder about Vash and Dorje’s deaths, Balidor found himself smiling a little as he thought over Chandre’s question. It struck him as humorous suddenly, especially coupled with the near-interrogation he’d just gotten from Jon about Wreg.
Chuckling, he gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder as she continued to stare backwards at the section of warehouse where Jon had stood, seconds before.
There is a lot we must catch you up on, my dear sister, he told her, sending her a pulse of warmth. So much, I might only get in trouble if I were to attempt to do it alone.
Chandre’s frown deepened, but that time, she only nodded.
Still smiling, Balidor glanced behind them as well, wondering vaguely where Jon had wandered off to, even as he followed the other two seers out to the docks.
8
BEING DIRECT
THE SUN MUST have risen above the horizon to our right as we made our way to the dock where our submarine was tethered.
I say “must have,” because there was no way to see it.
I was basing the sun’s appearance purely on the clock display in my headset.
Black clouds roiled over us by the time we’d left the storage warehouses from our pillaging. Now rain was coming down, too, slanting across our view in sheets when the wind didn’t drive it directly into our faces. The only way my eyes could tell the sun had come up at all was that I could now see the tarmac, along with foam-tipped waves just past the cement flats near the shore. Rows of vehicles stood in growing puddles and lakes of water.
Ships along the various piers bobbed crazily in their moorings, slamming into the docks and one another with every set of waves. White swells crashed and buffeted the invisible containment fields as we got closer to the water itself, making for a dramatic view, if a somewhat alarming one, when it occurred to me what would happen if any one of those fields failed.
So far they seemed to be holding, though.
I watched the ocean slam into one again, the foaming wave curling up in a straight line a good twenty feet, so I could see through the water to the seaweed and fish inside. It was strange to watch. The invisible wall also served as a reminder that half the base would
be flooded if the containment field wasn’t there.
In other areas, the field was more flexible, morphing slightly in shape and curling at the top to keep the excess water from splashing over the top of the field.
The tide still seemed to be rising.
And yeah, I couldn’t see any part of the actual sun.
It didn’t get light out in the conventional sense at all. I blinked at the fog and heavy cloud cover, only able to see about fifteen yards in front of me when I wasn’t being blinded entirely by wind and rain. The storm blotted out the sky, stretching the night.
My face felt raw, numb from cold.
In spite of the briny smell and wet of the rain, the wind still smelled like smoke. The smell infused everything––my clothes, my hair, the seats of the vehicles, the ocean water in the air.
Revik got an earful from Balidor when he called in to confirm the rendezvous.
We were late. Balidor wasn’t happy, or very interested in our reasons why.
I could feel the storm bothering ‘Dori while Revik and he spoke. He worried about what we’d be facing at the docks, and the types of security protocols they’d have in Manhattan. He worried Shadow already knew where we were. I noted he also didn’t really trust or particularly like the SCARB agent, Talei, who’d provided the maps.
Using our headset links, Balidor sent us the small amount of intel about Manhattan he’d managed to gather from the F.O.B. leadership while we were gone. Balidor’s team also got authorization to send out military fliers to get the physical layout in Manhattan itself.
The images were eerie.
Whole sections of the city were dark, apparently without power.
Even using fliers with U.S. government ID’s, we couldn’t get too close. From the south, that meant hovering in airspace over Staten Island, a few yards from the first line of OBEs. According to Balidor, they were in danger of being shot down by security forces operating out of Staten Island as well––not to mention civilians.
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