by Platt, Sean
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Raj watched the guard shack’s security monitor, seeing a red dot appear a handful of blocks away. Whether the red dot indicated a shot fired to match what he’d heard or something more, he didn’t know. Christopher knew exactly what all of the grid map’s symbols meant, but Christopher wasn’t here. He was off picking his ass, like always. Captain of the guard indeed. What was higher? Captain or commander?
Damn right.
The oddity of the commander not knowing how to read the map occurred to Raj, but he brushed the notion away. He didn’t know how to read it because that sort of triviality was beneath him. Raj was head of security, in name if not in practice. Meyer trusted his judgment. That made Raj a strategist, whereas Christopher was one step above a grunt. Human guards were pointless anyway, like Christopher.
Still, the red dot held his attention. The map was fascinating to watch. It tracked the position of Reptar peacekeepers and other forces. Raj had entered the shack to watch the detail he’d dispatched using the viceroy’s command string roil toward the church at the city’s edge.
There’d been a shot and that mysterious red dot just down from the gate. That seemed to have stopped his patrol. They’d regrouped, now headed more or less back in this direction. Toward the Apex, toward the house. Maybe toward the red dot.
Raj watched the screen, fascinated and annoyed in unison. He hoped the fucking Reptars had at least grabbed Piper before turning back. They’d certainly had the time. He’d seen them surround and enter the church. He’d seen them stream throughout the sector afterward, focusing in a narrow line pointing away from the besieged church, as if tracking or retreating. There were twenty or thirty peacekeepers out there now — plenty to catch one disobedient woman.
He hoped they’d at least stop by the guard shack on the way back and drop her off before running toward this whole red dot incident. Raj wanted credit for the bust, and he might not get it if too much happened between then and now.
Raj waited.
His eyes rolled. The stupid animals were heading toward the front gate, apparently not planning to stop at the mansion.
He exited the guard shack. He touched the pistol at his hip.
Raj nudged the shack door closed behind him, making sure it locked, and headed off the mansion grounds into the buildings ahead, following the running peacekeepers’ purrs.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Jeanine,” Nathan said into his intercom.
“Yes, Nathan.”
“Is Bannister inside yet?”
Coffey hesitated a moment for replying. Then: “Almost. But …”
“But what?”
“He’s literally just walking into the city, Nathan.”
“So? You sound like that’s a bad thing.”
Another pause. “I’m sending you the satellite feed. Take a look, and see what you think.”
Nathan looked at his shattered laptop, victim of his earlier tantrum. Seeing its dead screen reminded Nathan why he’d destroyed half of his office. Remembering made him think of Julie and Grace, dead merely because they’d chosen to hide in the wrong place. To hide from Nathan in the wrong place. He’d been vacillating in his anger for the past hour while milling through his destroyed office, trying to decide whom he was angriest at. Did he most hate the rebels who’d sheltered his wife and daughter? It was hard to hate them, seeing as they were dead themselves. That left two parties left to loathe: the Astrals who’d murdered them — and Nathan himself, for driving his family away.
But self-pity could come later. Vengeance was his target for now.
“I can’t see the feed.”
“You’ll find it under—” Coffey began.
“I’ll be right down.”
“Yes, of course.”
Nathan found his lieutenant in front of the communication room’s large screen, pinching and swiping to view various parts of the satellite feed. Normally, the feed wouldn’t warrant the biggest monitor, but Coffey might have heard his earlier destructive spree.
“Look,” Coffey said, hearing Nathan’s approach. She pointed at a lone figure approaching a pair of wide-open gates like a gunslinger tromping into a showdown. Or an ambush.
“Are you kidding me?” Nathan asked. “Are the Astrals still over by the church?”
Coffey pinched out, then back in on another section of the city. “They’re here.” She tapped the screen in a few places, her fingers leaving small, irregular blue dots to mark her touch. “Reptars. Maybe twenty or more.” She tapped again. “There are Titans here and here.”
“Titans?”
“Looks like it.”
“Where is this?”
She scanned and pinched back out. “Around 400 meters from the front gate.”
“Of the viceroy’s mansion?”
Coffey shook her head. “Of the city.”
“The fucking aliens are going toward the front gate? Why aren’t they at the church?”
“Only a small peacekeeper detail was sent. The shuttles stayed where they were but have now rolled back to here and here—” She touched the screen. “Probably out of his line of sight. Hiding, like they’re waiting to pounce. You didn’t see any of this up in your office? I assumed you were watching, since you—”
“I wasn’t watching,” Nathan snapped, his lips pressing bloodlessly together. His fists clenched. He wanted to pick one of the people in the communication room and beat the living shit out of him just to vent his frustration. There wasn’t anyone in the room over thirty years old, and all were fit and well trained, but none would lift a finger against him. It wasn’t safe to beat Nathan Andreus in anything he cared to win if you cared to see another sunrise.
“You’re saying the Astrals didn’t divert at all?” Nathan stared at the overhead view. “They didn’t even care to chase down Piper Dempsey?”
“Just the small detail, Nathan. The rest of what you see moved toward the gate.”
“Titans.” He exhaled. “Why are they sending Titans?”
“I don’t know.”
“When Bannister was on the move, did someone spot him?”
“We weren’t able to watch him the whole way. I don’t know.”
Nathan chewed his lip. “They knew he was coming.”
Coffey nodded. “Yes.”
“And now they’re waiting. Opening the gates and slinking out of sight … and this stupid asshole is dumb enough to just walk right in, as if they left the door open by mistake.”
Coffey’s head tipped: a half shrug. “Looks that way.”
Nathan’s head slowly moved side to side. “He’s carrying that device. The one Bannister mentioned over their channel a while back when he was talking to his man in the city. Terrence.”
Coffey looked shocked. “You mean the virus? The one Terrence created? How do you know he has it with him? Did he tell you about it or see the device when he was here?”
“He’s headed into the city, Jeanine. They wouldn’t try something so dangerous just for reconnaissance.”
“But what makes you so sure he’s—”
“It’s what I would do,” said Nathan, cutting her off.
Coffey’s head returned to the screen. Cameron Bannister was still making his way slowly toward the wide-open city gates, right out in the middle of everything like an asshole wearing a bull’s eye.
“They know,” Nathan said, deciding. “I have no idea how they know, but they know he’s carrying the virus. They’re letting him in so they can take it away without destroying it, so they can study it and see how the network ticks. Once they have what he’s holding, they’ll kill him.”
“Well then,” said Coffey, “I guess we’re about to see the end of Bannister’s resistance.”
Nathan reached toward the screen, pinched it wide, then wider still. Maybe five to eight miles away, the computer had laid an Andreus graphic over a small clump of dark boxes.
“Not if they get reinforcements,” he said.
Chapter
Thirty
“Not that way,” said Terrence.
Piper looked at Terrence, now with the enormous modified weapon Christopher had used to dispatch the Reptar in some sort of holster behind his back. She had to stop running because Terrence was behind her, and she didn’t know what “not that way” meant.
“I don’t know for sure,” he said, breathing heavily as he caught up with her, “but given the way they all seem to communicate mentally, I’ll bet they know a Reptar was killed. First time that’s happened inside the city since the occupation, I think,” he added.
“And?” Piper could feel seconds ticking away. The peacekeepers’ rattling purrs seemed to come from all directions and had since they’d resumed running. The group was uncomfortably large, but there wasn’t much point in discretion. They’d either make it or not. Their loud weapon rang the dinner bell, and it seemed miraculous that they hadn’t been overtaken yet. They’d rounded a few corners, stumbled through someone’s piled up trash bags, and nearly broken their necks on a spill of what looked like tiny silver BBs on the far side. None of it had been quiet, and yet they’d been fortunate so far, surviving only on speed and luck rather than skill and evasion.
“I’m pretty sure they were already onto me,” Terrence said. “From earlier.”
“And if they weren’t,” Heather added, “they probably are now that Chris here so subtly discharged an illegal weapon.”
“Maybe I should have let it eat them,” Christopher said, turning to face Heather.
“Maybe you shouldn’t’ve come, Mom,” Trevor added.
“You told me to!”
Trevor ignored Heather then turned to Piper. Of course he hadn’t told her to come; Piper knew from past experience that she’d simply tagged along unwanted. For the half second before he spoke, she was struck anew by his change. Trevor wouldn’t be legal to vote in the old world, but the past years had already turned him into a man. She saw shades of Meyer in Trevor’s eyes — a kind of merciless practicality that told Piper he’d leave anyone behind if they slowed the group. Better for some to survive than none at all.
“You need to go back, Mom. I keep telling you, it’s not safe.” He pointed back toward the house, where they’d been about to go. “They’ll let you back in, no problem. Christopher will go with you.” He turned to Christopher as he would an underling. “Make sure she gets home safely.”
Trevor looked at Piper and extended a hand. For a crazy moment, Piper though he wanted her to give him five.
“What?” she asked, staring at the hand.
“You took something from Dad’s computer.”
“I—”
“Give it to me, Piper. I heard Dad say there’s someone outside the gates and the Astrals know it. They’re all worked up.”
“And?”
“And that tells me it might be someone from Benjamin’s lab. Or the rebels at least. If you give me what you took, I can get to them. I’ll tell the cops I want to join the contingent at the gate then sneak out or at least toss it somewhere safely beyond the fence for someone to find later.”
“Why would I take anything from your fa—” Piper began.
“I don’t like what Dad’s doing any more than you do.” He jabbed the outstretched hand toward Piper again, insisting.
Piper looked at Trevor then at Heather, who of course hadn’t moved. Her jaw worked. “I’m going with you,” she said.
“They won’t let you out. I’m technically Apex Guard, so I have options. But they’re looking for you, Piper.”
She gestured toward the monks, who’d trailed behind in an untidy bundle. “What about them? They have to get out of the city, too.”
“Not now. They’ll need to try and hide in here, then sneak out later.”
“I’ll hide and then sneak out with them.”
“No, you won’t,” said Christopher, shaking his head. “They’re looking for an Astral killer, and you’re already a fugitive. The shuttles will be circling for a while. Running is the worst thing you can do.”
“So you want me to—”
“Go back home,” said Trevor.
Piper felt her eyes widen. Exactly what the monks had been saying, and this from her stepson. How could they be so stupid? He’d just said she was a fugitive. Did they really think she’d be welcomed back?
“It’s you they’re looking for, Piper, but mainly because of Dad,” said Trevor. “He’s upset, sure it’s a misunderstanding. They wouldn’t do anything to unsettle their viceroy. Some eyebrows will raise, but they won’t hurt you.”
Piper felt abandoned. She glared at Terrence — her last chance at sanity.
“Sorry, Piper. I agree with Trev. Give him what you have to deliver, then come back with me and Heather.”
“You?”
“Yes, me too,” he said, nodding his huge head of hair. “Gotta take the chance that they’ll keep buying what I’m shoveling. So far, so good because I’m still here after my little visit this morning.”
“They aren’t stupid, Terrence.”
“We need someone inside. It’s the only way.”
“Not you.” She turned to Trevor. “I’m talking about me. I won’t go back.”
“You have to.”
“I don’t have to do shit.”
Trevor flinched; Piper rarely swore.
“If you think you can get outside, you take all of us,” she said.
“Piper, I’ll be walking right through lines of guards and police and Astrals! I’m not getting out; I’m just taking your delivery!”
“Take us too.”
“There’s no way! It’s—”
There was a loud humming sound behind them. Piper spun to see the edge of a shuttle hovering low, now visible between the buildings. They never flew this low. It seemed as if it hadn’t seen them yet, but she could already hear another on its way.
“Give it to me, Piper!” Trevor hissed. His hand shook. His eyes seemed panicked.
Instead of answering, Piper looked toward the gate then back at Heather, who was now dragging Christopher toward the house. She began to move. Terrence had joined Trevor behind Piper rather than going with Christopher and Heather. Monks in street clothes brought up the rear in a second group.
As Piper looked back, a second shuttle loomed behind Franklin and the others.
There was a bright flash, a chorus of screams, and a waft of hot flame.
In that flash, the party of fugitives had dwindled to three: Piper, Trevor, and Terrence.
They ran, the deadly alien sphere moving into position behind them.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cameron could hear a commotion ahead, but the path between gates remained deserted and still.
He’d seen Heaven’s Veil many times on the various hacked camera views Terrence had given them access to over the years, but he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes since leaving the house with Piper all that time ago.
The surrounding area was still thick with trees and hills, but Astral terraforming had denuded the city’s land itself and a wide ring around it, grinding rock and soil to make it flat. He’d heard and seen that the city was mostly concrete, slab stone, and the odd patch of grass for opulence (especially around the viceroy’s mansion), but the apron was almost baked clay.
The gate was wide. It scrolled backward into recesses at the opening’s sides. Between the two edge posts lay a wide area cut lower into the rock, like the vast drainage systems Cameron had seen in urban California. The valley continued forward to a second set of gates, also left open.
Halfway between the two gates, walking steadily through the center of the recessed valley, Cameron wondered if the Astrals would simply close the gates and trap him between them.
A new question rose to match it:
Why?
They could have killed him a dozen times already. He’d stood in front of five shuttles a few hours ago, before being surrounded by millions of floating BBs.
They knew he was here. For whatever reason
, they’d decided it wasn’t in Cameron Bannister’s fate to be killed out of hand. Why, he didn’t know.
But really, did it matter?
He couldn’t run.
He couldn’t ask Benjamin, Danika, or Charlie for advice.
He couldn’t get in touch with Terrence.
If the Astrals knew he was in Heaven’s Veil, Cameron was doing all he could hope to do. If he played along, he might find a way to hand off his true purpose. He wasn’t carrying a nuke, which they might suspect. He wasn’t here to assassinate Meyer Dempsey, which they also might suspect. He was carrying a small cylinder. He merely needed to plug it into the right holes, or hand it off to any one of several right people.
That might still be possible, even in the throat of a trap. There still might be a way.
Cameron walked forward, heart in his throat.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Meyer was stopped by the massive muscular arms of two Titans as he tried entering the main thoroughfare near the gate. He’d passed several circling Reptars already, all eyeing him with what he thought (and definitely sensed) was anger. But they’d let the viceroy by. He’d seen two shuttles, both practically parked as they hovered in their out-of-the-way positions in two of the better city back yards. They hadn’t even twitched.
But the Titans stopped him.
“I’m the viceroy,” Meyer said unnecessarily. “Let me through.”
The Titan on the right gave Meyer a soft, pleasant smile without moving his arm. The smile was maddening in his agitated state. It was impossible to anger the Titans. You could drop your drawers and shit on their feet; they’d smile blandly down while you did it. Reptars would correct your faux pas with teeth and claws.
“Let me through,” he repeated.
The second Titan shook his head, also smiling. Meyer’s mind filled with an image of a green circle, its edges outlined in black. The symbol meant nothing to him, but he understood its meaning from a warm sense of emotion wafting from the Titan: the area was controlled, somehow restricted. And he wouldn’t be going through no matter who he was.