Plague of Death

by D. L. Armillei

  Van wondered if Uxa’s lack of communication meant that she wouldn’t be allowed to go to Salus Valde during the Alignment. She decided, no. Last year, Uxa had told Van to prepare for another journey, but never mentioned another mission. Did that mean she could do whatever she wanted? Probably not. Uxa would definitely assign another task. The details of her assignment were most likely being held up by the bureaucratic Lodian Consilium.

  Anxious for answers, Van hustled through the throng of people on the main street. Despite the multitude of black suits milling about, she happened to catch sight of the man who scared away Bicycle Bob. Without hesitation, she followed him into the Dock Side Cafe, a small coffee shop crammed with people.

  Van strained to find the man and saw him in line. She maneuvered herself next to a group of “suits,” eager to eavesdrop on their conversation while she waited.

  “—excited because we found traces of terbium, holmium, and erbium.”

  “You’re the physicist, what are the developmental implications of the find?”

  “—need to speak to Chuck. He’s the finance guy. Or maybe marketing—”

  The man got his coffee. He jostled through the crowd and left the shop.

  Van hastily struggled through the horde, following him. She stepped onto the sidewalk, looked up and down the street and couldn’t place him among the visitors.

  “Dammit.”

  She was about to move on when she swore she caught a glimpse of him dash down the alley between the Sea Escape clothing store and The Beach Wok restaurant. She decided to take a look.

  The stench from the dumpsters permeated her nostrils. Seagulls picked on the open garbage loosely tossed in the bins by the restaurant’s hurried employees. Van’s presence startled the gulls; they cawed and flew away.

  Van noticed a fresh Dock Side Cafe coffee cup spilled on the ground and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. A man grasped her from behind and cupped her mouth.

  The intimacy of his body pressed against hers, along with his hot breath on her ear, terrified her. She wanted to scream for help. But with his hand covering her mouth, she couldn’t yell.

  She could barely breathe.

  Chapter 7

  Van’s hair caught in the man’s lips as he growled into her ear.

  “What they did to her, they’ll do to me. If you don’t stop following me.” He released his sweaty grip.

  Van gasped for breath and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She turned to see her assailant.

  “Stop following me,” he said and hurried away.

  “Wait! What are you talking about?”

  He turned and stomped back, right up close to Van’s face. “You and your little friend already got me into enough trouble!”

  “How?” Van asked. “What friend?”

  He pointed his thumb at this chest. “I was head of transport last year when you illegally decided to bring your pal through the portal. I got fired because of you two!”

  Van’s jaw dropped. It made sense. Some Grigori were assigned to deal with the traffic of vichors traveling back-and-forth from Salus Valde to Providence Island. She never thought about the Grigori responsible for monitoring the portal the day she smuggled Paley through using the Twin Gemstones they had stolen.

  “Sorry.” The word escaped Van’s lips because it was the right thing to say. But Van believed if two teens with no clue managed a travel-through on his watch, perhaps he should’ve been fired. “You’re here now. In a suit, even. The Elders must’ve re-hired you for something.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, crowd control. I’m here to help during Jaychund weekend. I’m headed back to Salus Valde tomorrow. To sit at a desk, doing paperwork for the rest of my life. I hope you’re happy.”

  “What did you mean by ‘what they did to her’? Who?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me.”

  Van continued her blank stare.

  “Miss Nutting,” he said.

  Van saw the look of enlightenment spread across his face as he correctly figured out that a sixteen-year-old wouldn’t be filled in on important secrets, even if she was the Anchoress. Although, Van was pretty sure he didn’t know that last part.

  “The Elders ex-communicated her as punishment for telling you about the Twin Gemstones and how to use them to transport a terrigen through the portal.”

  His words hit Van hard. She and Paley had both choked under the pressure of Uxa’s interrogation last year, and they confessed that Miss Nutting had helped them.

  “She couldn’t be trusted and got kicked off the island,” he said.

  “Miss Nutting sold her beauty salon. She went to the mainland for an extended vacation.” Even as Van said it, she knew it didn’t sound right. Why was I so ready to believe it before? All excommunication was permanent. Miss Nutting would never be allowed to return to the island. Van could feel the color drain from her face.

  “I was lucky in comparison.” He seemed to be warming up to Van. “The desk job is really more of a demotion. Once a Grigori, always a Grigori. I still maintain the status to wear a suit, thank the light.” He straightened his right hand and made a sideways figure eight motion in front of his chest.

  A gesture Van recognized as one performed by orthodox Lodians. Most Grigori took the Lodian belief system to the extreme.

  Keen on getting more information, Van asked, “So, can I ask you about the—”

  “I gotta go.” His eyes darted beyond Van. His friendly tone came to an abrupt stop. “Take care of yourself.” He took off in the opposite direction.

  Van twisted around to glimpse two men in black suits disappearing into the busy road.

  “Damn suits again.”

  All of these government-types weren’t on the island for Jaychund, something was brewing under the surface. She wondered if it involved her next mission.

  This time she wouldn’t make any stops no matter what, and, again, headed to Uxa’s office. The long walk to the reservation didn’t bother Van, and now that top-level Grigori knew she carried the Anchoress bloodline, she was allowed onto the reservation without restriction. Last year, she had to sneak through the woods behind her house to get there. She passed the island security check-point without any problems.

  Van reached the familiar cluster of three interconnected buildings known as the complex that housed the island’s government. Van knew nothing about the flat, rectangular structure, called Providence Island Research Facility.

  The domed building, or the House of Lacus, she knew well. It held the portal and the elevator she took to her special classes in the reservation Program. The tallest building, called Marble Hall consisted of offices, including Uxa’s.

  Van entered the waiting room on the third floor.

  Uxa’s secretary popped up from her seat.

  “Hi Creenelia,” Van said without stopping. “Uxa in?”

  “Uh-ah, she’s uh,” Creenelia sputtered. “You’re early. Your appointment isn’t until later this evening.” She always got flustered around Van, intimidated by Van’s high-status and special privileges with Uxa. She had probably guessed that Van carried the Anchoress bloodline. “Let me check.” She picked up the phone basically for show, knowing Van had no intention of stopping to wait.

  Van burst into Uxa’s office. She was startled to see one of the suits sitting in a chair across from Uxa, but unsurprised to be the focus of Uxa’s rage-filled glare.

  The nondescript man in the suit grinned and stood as Van marched over to him.

  “Who are you people? Why are you here?”

  “Vanessa.” Uxa rose from her desk chair, her demeanor composed as usual. “May I introduce the terrigen ambassador to the Living World, Ladd Kasey.”

  Van narrowed her eyes at the man as she shook his hand. “Vanessa Cross.”

  “Oh, I know who you are.” Ladd eagerly pumped Van’s hand.

  “Why are you on our island, Ladd?”

  “Ambassador Kasey,” Uxa corrected.

  “No, n
o. No fuss. Ladd is fine,” he said still grinning at Van.

  Van’s eyes darted to Uxa. “This is a huge security breach.” Being HG, or Head of the Grigori, Uxa knew part of the Grigori’s job was keeping the portal a secret from terrigens.

  “Come,” Uxa said. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Uxa wore her standard issue reservation elder uniform, a tunic-styled sky-blue ensemble with silver edgings and exaggerated shoulders, with a matching cape that fluttered as she moved. Van couldn’t help but be impressed at how the color enhanced Uxa’s light-black skin and dark blond hair, always worn scraped back into a long braid.

  The three of them walked in silence down a hall dotted with closed doors. Van had a ton of questions and Ladd looked like he had so many that he was about to burst like a weak dam. But, taking a cue from Uxa’s warning-looks, they both kept quiet.

  Van had never ventured this deep into the complex before. They came to a metal door, and Uxa placed her palm onto a scanner and then allowed a red laser to scan her eyes. The door clicked, and they entered the research facility.

  Van’s curiosity bubbled. She had already deduced that the men in the suits were connected to the research facility and that their presence on the island had something to do with terrigens. Why else would the terrigen ambassador be here?

  The research facility had a much different vibe than Marble Hall and the House of Lacus. The latter two buildings were gorgeous, efficient, and designed to please visitors. Here, the walls were made of concrete bricks painted a dull yellow, the lay-in ceilings hung gloomily overhead, and heavy metal cabinets lined two of the walls.

  A sea of depressing-looking cubicles confined workers like human-sized lobster traps and occupied the majority of the floor. The dreary illumination coming from the rectangular, flush mount ceiling lights didn’t help matters either. Van had no doubt this building was built by terrigens, for terrigens. Like all things created by them, the space was clunky, inefficient, and utilitarian.

  Uxa stopped and allowed Van to soak up the inner workings of the facility.

  “Ambassador Kasey is a member of the Brotherhood of the Magic Circle,” Uxa said.

  Van glanced at her, questioningly.

  “They’re a secret group of powerful men that operate outside the terrigen’s government.”

  “All of us know about Providence Island,” Ambassador Kasey interjected, “the portal, the demon problem in the Earth World, and we know about the work of the Grigori.”

  “The Brotherhood controls and influences every aspect of the terrigen’s society,” Uxa said.

  “So they’re the Elders of the mainland,” Van quipped.

  “More than the mainland.” Ambassador Kasey snickered. “The entire Earth World.”

  Van’s interest peaked. “Does the President of the United States know about us? The island?”

  “Some high-level members of our government—the mainland, United States government—have been informed about the demons and the Living World,” Ambassador Kasey said. “But we don’t do this too often.”

  The workers paid no attention to the trio as they continued to move forward through the cubicle-filled room.

  “Mostly, the top officials already know because they’re members of the Brotherhood.”

  Van’s eyes widened. “You fix the elections?”

  Ambassador Kasey shifted his body. “Er, for the most part, we place our own people in the seats. Yes.”

  “Just in the United States?”

  “No, again, pretty much the whole free world.”

  Van remained dumbfounded as she entered an expansive room. Several rows of desks faced a curved wall covered with video monitors. A good portion of them broadcasted TV news channels from all over the world. Others displayed screens filled with changing numbers and line charts, reminding Van of securities exchanges. A handful monitored the island.

  Adults in suits, mostly men of varying ethnicities, sat at the desks busily typing on their keyboards while staring at their desktop computer screens, or glancing at the wall monitors and chatting on headsets with enough intensity and concentration to indicate their work meant life or death.

  Annoyance washed over Van. Not because of the surveillance, but because they got mainstream TV—access to all the channels—and they came in with great reception.

  Van’s family could afford to buy a hundred times the equipment in this room, yet the TV in Mt. Hope Manor only broadcast three Elder-approved channels that went in and out depending on the weather. The entire island experienced the same thing. Nobody complained, though, besides the kids and teens. Most of the adults rarely watched TV, and many families didn’t have televisions by choice, claiming part of the charm of living on the island was reduced dependence on technology.

  Well, that isn’t the case here! “How are you getting this great reception?” Van asked.

  One of the suits near Van twisted around in his chair, removed his headset, and responded. “The residents and businesses on the townie side of the island get bad reception because this is a quasi-world, a place mostly in-between both worlds.”

  The suit must have realized he answered a teenager. He paused, furrowed his brow, and glanced at the ambassador.

  Ambassador Kasey nodded, giving the suit the go-ahead.

  “The island is part-magical, part-structural,” the suit continued in his monotone voice. “The magic used to hide the island while in the Earth World creates interference, even when we’re in the Living World.”

  “Oh.” Van’s mouth formed an “O” shape from this staggering bit of news. “That’s why once someone is excommunicated they can never find their way back. The island hides by changing locations between the worlds, kind of like a cloak.”

  “The protective magic also makes the island unable to be navigated,” Uxa said. “Unless our Grigori give the captain coordinates.”

  “And it’s not on any maps,” the Ambassador added. “The Brotherhood saw to that.”

  “But you get so many channels,” Van said, still in awe of the TVs. “We never get that many, even when the reception is good.”

  “The island’s TV network runs on a loop.” The Ambassador snickered. “It’s programmed to re-run shows and movies approved by the Elders as if it’s broadcasting.”

  Van glared at Uxa. “You control what we watch?”

  “For the good of the cause,” Ambassador Kasey said, answering for Uxa. “You’re lucky she lets you watch TV at all. If it were up to the Brotherhood, you townies would get nothing.”

  “He’s right,” Uxa said. “Many want the islander’s access to TVs and computers eliminated.”

  “Why is the reception in this room so good?” Van asked the suit. She was still too annoyed with Uxa to speak to her. “This is part of the island, too.”

  “In the complex, we get our power from the Universal Energy Grid, a magic-based connection to the Living World that controls our frequencies. It holds the island’s vibrational frequency steady when it moves into the Living World. Otherwise, all us terrigens would be dead from the increased frequency.”

  “By power, you mean electricity too?” Van asked. “Because our lights flicker on an off all the time.”

  "We don’t use any electricity from the mainland,” the suit said. “The power in the complex comes from the grid. On the majority of the island, anything that runs on electricity is sort-of battery operated.”

  “Sort-of battery operated?” Van raised her brow.

  “Your lights flicker because their electrical power comes from a type of crystal gemstone that acts like a battery. Each device must be reconfigured to work with the gemstone to create an electricity-like effect.”

  “Is that why our internet is so bad?”

  “There’s no internet on the island,” the ambassador said.

  Van put her hands on her hips. “I just said we have internet.”

  Though, now that Van thought about it, she had learned how to use the internet in her computer lab class
at Canterbury Bells. None of her friends, or anyone she knew, had a home computer, a laptop, a smartphone, or any other kind of device found in homes on the mainland.

  “What you’re actually accessing is an intranet disguised as an internet.” The Ambassador grinned, as if proud of this little trick.

  Stunned, Van turned to Uxa for confirmation.

  Uxa nodded. “No one is allowed to contact anyone off-island unless it’s authorized by a Grigori or an Elder.”

  “Or the Brotherhood,” the ambassador interjected.

  “So you can control the narrative, like with the TV shows.” As Van processed all this new information, more things began to make sense. “That’s why the Elders discourage use of electronics and tell us to live more dependently on nature.”

  “One of the reasons,” Uxa said.

  A nearby landline phone rang.

  The suit swiveled back to face his desk and snatched up the handset.

  “Is his phone connected to the mainland?” Van hadn’t even noticed the landline phones on the suit’s desks before that one rang.

  The islanders used phones that looked like landline telephones, but the IIC only operated between the residents and businesses on the island. They couldn’t dial any off-island phone numbers.

  “All the EWS agents’ work is authorized and monitored,” Uxa said. “They’re given access to lines connected to the United States and other country’s leaders, and to Lodestar Station.”

  “Here, smartphones aren’t smart,” the ambassador said. “They’re dumb. Don’t work.” He snickered. “There’s too much interference from the magic. That’s why we need to use landlines. But the Grigori has an acceptable replacement for smartphones. They’re called multi-tracs.”

  “We don’t allow members of the Brotherhood or the EWS agents to touch MTs,” Uxa hastily added. “They’re only used by Grigori.”

  “What’s an EWS agent?” Van asked.

  “Earth World Security agent.” Ambassador Kasey proudly raised his chest. “Every one of ‘em was hired by us—the Brotherhood. We recruit terrigens to work and sometimes live on Providence Island, on the reservation, to help the Grigori with security.”