The Far Shores (The Central Series)

by Rawlins, Zachary

  Vivik shook his head.

  “Not really. Not yet.”

  Well, that was odd. Alex still felt like he was walking on thin ice, though he didn’t know why that would be. It felt like Vivik had come out here to talk to him about something, but now that he was sitting next to him, Alex felt as if he was expected to draw Vivik out.

  “Okay. Your prerogative. You know if you need my help, you’ve got it, though, right?”

  “An Auditor-in-training’s help?” Vivik laughed. “No thanks.”

  Alex was hurt, though he took pains to make sure it didn’t show on his face. Not that Vivik even glanced in his direction, instead looking out toward the blackness of the Ether. Alex had to fight a nagging suspicion that both Eerie and Vivik were seeing something out there that was invisible to him.

  “That’s not fair. I’m not an Auditor yet...”

  “You’re right. It’s not fair,” Vivik admitted, shoulders slumping. “And I didn’t really mean it. It’s just weird, you know, having you go to the other side of things.”

  “Huh. And here I would have thought that the Anathema were the ‘other side of things.’ I don’t get what your problem is, man. You were the one who was planning on working for the Academy after graduation, right? Always going on about being neutral to cartel politics and shit. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing?”

  Vivik shook his head slowly.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Vivik said apologetically. “Of course they are the enemy. I was actually thinking of the difference between civilian and military.”

  Alex picked up a pebble from the gravel they sat on and set it bouncing down the hillside. The light in Dr. Graaf’s office continued to burn, so whatever consequences they would face were still out in the future. Alex was actually glad Katya and Vivik had come out to join them, for selfish reasons – even if it was cutting in on his alone time with Eerie. He figured that the more people that got caught up in their unauthorized departure, the easier it would be share the blame.

  “Not like I had a choice, man. I’m no scientist. And after what happened – with Emily, Alistair, Rebecca – all of it – I wasn’t going to just stand by and allow more of my friends to die.”

  “I respect that, Alex. I really do. I’m glad you found something to commit yourself to, even if I don’t fully agree with it. I just worry about the consequences.”

  Alex pitched another pebble out into the darkness.

  “What do you mean?”

  Vivik lowered his head, and Alex had to strain to hear him.

  “They are going to make you kill people eventually, Alex. Not Weir, not Anathema, not even Operators. Normal people.”

  The memory of the Chinese guard’s body, bobbing like a cork in the surf, rose unbidden in Alex’s mind, and he shivered, though the wind had died down and the night was not overly cold.

  “What if I told that I already have?” The words sounded harsher aloud than they had in his head. “It’s too late for me to worry about that sort of thing, Vivik.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  The silence grated on Alex’s nerves, and he fought down a sudden and irrational burst of anger. He wasn’t sure if Vivik was judging him, or if it just felt that way. He wished that it was light enough to see Vivik’s face.

  “So?” Alex challenged. “Do you hate me now? I am officially a lost cause?”

  “What? No. Not even slightly.” Vivik shook his head again, and when he glanced at Alex, he could have sworn that Vivik looked sad or embarrassed. “I’m actually kind of guilty. I was thinking that I haven’t been a very good friend. All of this – the move to the Far Shores, your candidacy in Audits, whatever you had to do in the field – it all must have been hard. And I’ve been so caught up in my own thing that I haven’t even asked you about it.”

  Alex was instantly shamed by his own anger. He turned away – though the darkness made that unnecessary – cursing the pettiness of his temper. He tried to formulate some sort of apology, but wasn’t certain how to apologize for the things in his head. Alex was distracted from his self-recrimination by the sound of Vivik unzipping his backpack, and the soft clinking of glass.

  “Here you go,” Vivik said, holding out a beer bottle. It was too dark to read the label. “Present from Renton. And apology from me.”

  “Man...I’m sorry, too. I kind of...kinda thought maybe you hated me now. Because of the Audits stuff. I thought that’s why I never saw you anymore.”

  Vivik popped the cap from a beer of his own, set his bag aside, and then handed Alex the opener. There was just enough light for Alex to suspect that he was smiling.

  “Nothing of the sort. I’ve just been doing what I always do,” Vivik said, as they clinked their bottles together briefly, “trying to figure out a way to stop all this madness – the Anathema, the cartel bullshit, all of it.”

  Renton was either moving up in the world or being unaccountably generous. The beer was better than decent.

  “You having any luck with that?”

  “Some,” Vivik said guardedly. “I have a couple different things working. I don’t want to say anything about them yet, because they might turn out to be nothing. But I’ve got a good feeling...”

  Alex studied his friend as closely as the moonless night would allow.

  “Huh. What’s up with you, man? You seem different. Like confident, or something. You get a girlfriend that you didn’t tell me about?”

  Vivik coughed.

  “You did!” Alex crowed, slapping him on the back. “That’s great, man. Who is she?”

  “Just a girl,” Vivik mumbled. “No one you would know.”

  “One of the new girls, huh?” Alex speculated wildly, but he hadn’t been around the Academy enough lately to get to know any of the new kids, the most recent crop of orphans and cartel recruits to arrive, not even their names. “Is she cute?”

  “More than cute,” Vivik said. Alex was certain that if it there had been enough light, Vivik would have been blushing furiously. “But we aren’t really dating or anything...”

  “Still playing the field, huh?” Alex jabbed Vivik with his elbow. “You aren’t nailing some fourteen-year-old, are you?”

  “What? No!” Vivik sputtered. “That’s...no way. Nothing like that.”

  Alex laughed.

  “I’m just teasing you, man,” Alex reassured him. “I know you, Vivik. You’re a good guy. You’re not like me. You wouldn’t get caught up in something sketchy.”

  Vivik went quiet. Alex didn’t worry about it. He was content to enjoy his beer and not worry about things that he probably couldn’t have understood if he tried. The important thing was that Vivik was getting some, not whatever reason he felt it necessary to keep it secret. Alex was happy for him. Maybe getting laid would make Vivik a little less uptight.

  “So, why’d you and Katya come after us? Not that I mind, you know...”

  “It was her idea,” Vivik admitted. “I just tagged along. She seemed to know exactly where you were.”

  “She usually does. Kinda freaky.”

  “She suggested it when we finished dinner. Haley wanted to know what we were up to, but Katya wouldn’t tell her a thing. She probably jumped to all sorts of wrong conclusions.” Alex nodded to himself. Haley was a nice girl, but she did have that tendency. “All Katya told me was she had something to talk to Eerie about. And before you ask – no, I don’t know what. As for myself, I was hoping we would find some time to hang out, since it had been a while. And when Renton gave me the six-pack, he told me specifically to share it with you, so I’ve been saving it for weeks now...”

  The surprised Alex. He’d never thought of Renton as a particularly close friend – in fact, he wasn’t even sure if Renton counted as a friend at all. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf, since they had forced him to graduate from the Academy. Maybe spending all his time with Anastasia was making him sentimental for drinking on the roof with the guys. Alex let the empty bottle roll down the hill, gradually
picking up speed as it disappeared into the darkness. Even though he was grateful, Alex was surprised that Renton would do him the favor.

  Whatever, he thought, smiling at the distant sound of the bottle shattering. There was a first time for everything.

  ***

  Karim glanced around the room. He evidenced neither approval nor disdain, but that was to be expected; after all, there was basically nothing in it aside from a bed with a laptop stowed beneath it and a mirror on the wall. He set the two heavy rucksacks he had brought with him in a convenient corner, and Alice helpfully added the third that she had toted for him.

  “I had thought you people worked out of the Academy.”

  “You know,” Alice said, shrugging. “Things change. And not you – us. Provisionally, anyway. You’re in the big leagues now, Karim.”

  He glanced around the windowless room, which smelled faintly of new paint.

  “It hardly feels that way.”

  “Feel free to decorate, if it makes you feel at home. You know, Soldier of Fortune pinups, shiny pictures of guns, whatever does it for you.” Alice grinned. “Just don’t get too comfy. We’ll be shipping out shortly.”

  Karim frowned and glanced at his bags.

  “Training? Orientation?”

  “Hardly. If you need a review on how to put holes in people from a distance, then I’ve badly misjudged you. Profile says you kept busy. If Analytics is wrong, and you let your skill set get rusty, then you’ll die in the field. Easy on the budget either way.”

  The Kurd sat down on the edge of the neatly made bed.

  “This is all rather sudden,” he complained. “I have not even received confirmation of my pardon, yet.”

  “You’re standing in the same room as the Chief Auditor, and you’re back in Central. If you were violating your exile, I think you’d know about it by now.”

  Karim laughed abruptly.

  “Your reputation does you no justice,” Karim said admiringly. “You are more fearsome than even your worst enemies suspect.”

  Alice just smiled.

  “I suppose I should prepare my kit.”

  She nodded.

  “We’ll do a briefing tomorrow, operational guidelines and perimeters. Oh, and this,” Alice said, tossing him a thumb drive. “It’s encrypted. Will only load on the laptop under the bed. Dossiers on your companions-in-arms, one in particular I want you to be aware of. There’s a potential situation...it might come to nothing, but if worse comes to worst, then I’ll expect you to take care of it. When you’re done with that, I want you to check in with Danny at the armory. You’re going to need some special rounds, and some rifle components rated to deal with them. He’ll hook you up.”

  Karim hesitated, then smiled at Alice.

  “Can I at least ask where we are going? I need to prepare the proper equipment for the job.”

  “The Ukraine, or thereabouts.”

  Karim’s expression turned sour.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “Do you really think this is a good time?”

  ***

  “This probably seems pretty weird, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah. I thought it would. It’s weird for me too, by the way. This isn’t my idea, okay? I want you to know that.”

  “Okay.”

  “The information is legit, though. I checked some of it out myself. I’ve been here for weeks, and this place is weird. And I saw that nut standing out on the beach last night myself. I’m not just sharing the cartel’s suspicions. I don’t trust these freaks either. I don’t know whether they are aiming for you or for him, but I’m sure their intentions aren’t good. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m for real on this, you know. This is serious shit. I need to know that – are you taking this seriously? I can’t tell. Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Because this comes down from on high. You know who I mean. I know that you and her have cooperated before, on more than one occasion. And we’ve done the two of you additional favors as a show of good faith. After the last deal, you told her to lay off, and we’ve respected that, but she felt it was important to make sure that you know that you aren’t alone in this. Well, you don’t have to be, anyway. These people you are dealing with – I’m really not sure what makes them tick, but they are weird as fuck. You don’t want to take them lightly. There’s been some strange stuff happening around here, and they have connections – to Central and the Director himself. They have resources, and they are protected like you wouldn’t believe. You must understand that the Black Sun is risking a great deal by approaching you.”

  “Yes.”

  Katya sighed and kicked a small rock off the hill, out toward the rolling hills and sparse scrub brush that surrounded the Far Shores. The only light came from behind, the glow of the ambient light of the compound reflected on the solid vast grey of the cloud cover. The Changeling stood beside her, diminutive and indifferent, watching the blank sky as if the clouds were no obstacle to her strange eyes.

  According to the dossier the Black Sun maintained on Eerie, this was a distinct possibility.

  Katya wished there was more light, but doing this anywhere in the vicinity of the Far Shores and its pervasive surveillance was far too risky. She wondered if Eerie’s lack of concern was feigned, genuine, or a product of the vast gulf that separated the two of them. Interspecies communication was entirely too difficult. This was the kind of thing that was best left to the experts. Katya was an assassin, after all. She would have felt more comfortable dealing with the numerous unknowns that the Changeling presented in the context of killing her. She toyed with that idea while Eerie considered the offer, or at least appeared to do so; murdering Eerie with a handful of the coarse sand they stood on, then hiding her body in the tangled blackberry bushes and poison oak that filled the bottom of the ravine at the base of the hill, for the birds and the raccoons to nibble on until they found her.

  There was no malice behind the speculation. It was just how Katya passed the time.

  She wondered how long Eerie was going to let her stand there. She wondered what she saw when she looked up at the clouded night sky. She wondered if Eerie and Alex had fucked yet, and if he was as bad as she suspected. Katya stood and looked out at nothing, wishing she had worn jeans instead of a skirt, regretting her failure to snag dessert on her way out of the dining hall, speculating on what stupid shit Vivik and Alex were chatting about while she and Eerie stood in silence. Katya waited until her impatience, tired feet, and grumbling stomach got the better of her.

  “Well? What do you think?”

  “Hmm?”

  Katya stomped her foot, clenched her fists, and raised her voice.

  “What the hell? The offer, Eerie! What do you think about all of this?”

  Eerie turned her head slowly to regard her. Katya took half a step backward, and her hand brushed the needles embedded carefully in the lining of her skirt reflexively.

  There was something wrong with Eerie’s eyes. And it must have been an optical illusion, a result of spending too much time in relative darkness, but Katya could have sworn that there were tiny golden flecks in the air, spinning and then disappearing, orbiting the Changeling.

  “What do I think?” Eerie mused, her voice different, sounding amused and aloof, lacking its usual music. “I’ll tell you. I think that a silly little girl who murders people for a self-important girl that likes to play dress-up should have better things to do than interrupting my time alone with my boyfriend, particularly when all she has to offer is babbling and half-baked warnings. I think that the Black Sun’s help always comes at a price, and that price is entirely too high. I think that I am more than capable of taking care of myself without Anastasia Martynova’s assistance, thank you very much.”

  Katya’s breath caught, torn between bewilderment, anger, and a creeping sense of apprehension. Eerie took a single step toward Katya and put her hand on her shoulder, and it was al
l Katya could do not to flinch.

  “Most of all,” Eerie said, leaning close, so that Katya could see eyes in which little golden sparks danced, “I think you are worried about all the wrong things.”

  Katya’s jaw dropped. Eerie spun neatly around on the balls of her feet and walked away, back toward where they had left the two boys chatting.

  Eerie completed all of a dozen steps before she stumbled, her momentary grace, like the golden motes, a memory that Katya couldn’t be certain of.

  ***

  It was a balancing act. Torn between imperatives, Anastasia could only strive for a paradoxical middle way.

  There was no way to know how long it had been. Since she had been taken, she had seen neither day nor the night, and her own internal clock had been hopelessly scrambled by drugging and telepathic tampering. The former was unavoidable; the latter she allowed because it was crucial to her plan. Anastasia had no intentions of dying, so if that meant suffering the indignities of crude telepathic interrogation, then that was exactly what she would do. It wasn’t even as bad as she had expected.

  Her psyche was indomitable, forged in the crucible of the training and conditioning that every member of the Martynova family who aspired to leadership subjected themselves to, of their own free will, from the moment they were old enough to exercise that will. The assumption behind it was simple: any vulnerability would eventually be discovered and exploited. There was no certain method to protect against this eventuality, just various means to buy time. Rather than bowing to the inevitable, her family had designed their own version of the Program, intended to expose their vulnerabilities for the purpose of expunging them. Anastasia had endured irresistible psychic torment over telepathically simulated years, starting on her sixth birthday, and ending shortly before her eleventh, when she finally found a way to turn the simulation on the telepaths.

  Their deaths had been regrettable if satisfying collateral damage.

  The physical harm she had suffered thus far was negligible. The precognitive pool had actually warned her of much worse. Even her fingernails were still intact, though her most recent manicure was ruined. They had not even gone as far as cutting off her hair, a standard tactic to degrade female prisoners. Clearly, the Thule Cartel feared the consequences of using even the least physically invasive means of breaking her. But that did not mean her current state was anything like ideal.