by Platt, Sean
“Do you miss him, Charlie?”
“Do you miss Nathan?”
“Nathan isn’t dead.”
Charlie’s lips formed an ultra-rare, slightly bitter smile. “Next time I see him, maybe he will be.”
Jeanine decided to let it go. She’d started the diversion; maybe she could bring it back on track. Nathan wasn’t around right now. She thought she knew where his motives lay, but the man wasn’t always an open book and resented explaining himself.
“I still don’t see what makes you so sure Thor’s Hammer isn’t at Vail.”
“Because I find it unlikely that it would be so coincidental. The Hammer mentions in Benjamin’s file history lift right out. They don’t overlap with the Apex research at all.”
Jeanine shook her head. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“He was researching the Apex for a totally different reason. So if Thor’s Hammer is there too, it would be a coincidence.”
“What makes you so sure he wasn’t—”
Charlie’s voice slipped into its usual impatience. “We’ve already seen that things are changing out there. There was a surge of some sort last night, and its pulse rate, at least according to Piper, has increased. Benjamin seemed to think it was pushing out some sort of a beacon, or at least preparing to do so. We saw that grid it’s projecting among the monoliths — another tidy coincidence. Between what I’m seeing here,” he pointed toward the small built-in table, where Jeanine now saw Charlie’s laptop, “and what we’ve seen, it’s clear that they’re ‘powering up’ in some way, and it has something to do with the Apex. So you tell me. As a matter of deduction, does it seem coincidental that Benjamin would have been spending all his time investigating power use in these Apex structures for its own right … and just so happen to also have been thinking that the Vail Apex is the resting place of Thor’s Hammer?”
“But Cameron—”
“Cameron isn’t a scientist.”
“He said Benjamin told him where it was.”
“He said Benjamin told Cameron that he, Cameron, already knew where it was,” Charlie corrected.
“But if he assumed Cameron would know—”
“Benjamin was a good man but an idiot as a scientist. He didn’t organize his research. He didn’t document his findings properly. He didn’t take enough notes. Half of the notes he did take were dictated emails sent to himself. But he never went through them to clean the dictation. A lot are undecipherable. He dragged Cameron all over the world. I was there for some of it. The kid was fascinated 10 percent of the time, bored to death the other 90. To Benjamin, those trips were the ultimate bonding experience because he assumed Cameron shared his interests, even when he clearly didn’t. He was always quizzing him. When Cameron didn’t know the answers to the obscure archaeology or ancient aliens theories Benjamin asked about, he rolled his eyes and goaded him. The man was a good friend, but a total narcissist in his own way. If he’d been sensible, he’d have talked to Cameron. It would have been simple. But instead, it was a game to him. Something obvious.”
“So you’re saying—”
“Benjamin clearly assumed the Hammer’s location should be obvious to Cameron. And in retrospect, it might turn out to be, but for now it clearly wasn’t as important a memory to Cameron as it was to Benjamin. But it’s not in Vail. That’s not enough of a hilarious ‘obvious joke’ to be the answer. I’m sure he was quizzing Cameron all over. Recalling some ‘joke’ Benjamin assumed was between them. But until Astral Day, our lab had no interest in Vail. The only way Benjamin took Cameron there in the past was to ski.”
Jeanine watched Charlie, wanting to disagree on principle. There was no upside to what he was saying: They’d sent Cameron and Piper in with the key, and Nathan (whose allegiance Jeanine still wasn’t sure of) was in the city now. They were vested in Vail, and she wanted to argue and make him wrong. But his words rang true, and he’d known Benjamin best.
“Are you sure?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes.”
“So why all the interest in Vail?”
“I think he must have seen this coming yet didn’t discuss it with us because he didn’t want to be overheard by that little thing that was watching.”
“See what coming?” Jeanine asked. There was still an assumption being made. Charlie, always with an arrogant ace up his sleeve.
Charlie’s face registered surprise. “You haven’t seen.”
“Seen what?”
Charlie was looking at the door to the outside, which he seemed to have left ajar.
Jeanine walked forward. Stepped into the cool morning air.
And saw the second mothership docked beside the first, a beam of energy pouring from its underside into some unknown alien machinery.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Lila awoke to shaking. When she saw that the perpetrator was Raj, she nearly socked him and screamed, given how much had changed in the past few days. Then the sensible part of Lila remembered that he was her husband and the father of her child, and that this was still where he slept, too — albeit lately on the couch.
“Get up,” he said.
“Lemme sleep.”
“Believe me, I’d love to leave you out of this. But I need your help.”
Lila rolled over, now fully awake. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at him with disbelief.
“You’re kidding.”
“There’s something going on with your father.”
“Why don’t you just shoot him again?” The sentence simply came out. But despite Lila’s foggy morning brain, she’d managed to infuse it with the perfect amount of reproach and scorn. It made Raj pause.
“Get up.”
“What’s ‘going on’ with him?” But something else was itching at Lila. The room was different, as if spun end for end. She couldn’t see why at first, but then it hit her: the light was all wrong. The morning seemed dim, as if it were overcast outside. But still Lila could see a few sharp edges here and there, as if the sun were blazing despite the gloom.
“He’s locked himself in his office.”
“That’s his business, not yours.”
“He really did help Terrence and your mother, Lila,” Raj said, his tone shifting.
“Good for him.”
“He let them release the virus. He’s the reason the power is out and there’s no prediction of when it might come back on. Even the Astral ships seem to be affected. There’s been more shuttle activity, but they’re all docking on the mothership rather than circling and circling like they do on patrol. Terrence thinks they’re having to check in manually because they can’t do it over the air.”
“Good for Terrence,” Lila said, flopping back down and turning away.
“Lila.”
“Where is Terrence, anyway? Did you even let him sleep?”
“He’s upstairs.” Raj didn’t answer the second question.
“With Christopher?”
Lila couldn’t see Raj but thought she could hear the change in his voice like a snarl. “Your lover? He’s been arrested.”
That got Lila’s attention. She sat up all at once, all thoughts of sleep gone.
“Who arrested him? The Astrals?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“For the same reason I should have you arrested.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“I’m not stupid, Lila. Everyone acts like I am, but I’ve known for a long time that you, your mother, Terrence, and Christopher have been playing for the other side. Talking behind my back, making me look like an asshole. I have proof. I showed it to Captain Jons then to the Titans down at the station for good measure. Now you can either pull your ass out of bed and help me, or I can haul you down there, too, so you can live your little princess life in a cell.”
Lila felt acid pulse through her veins. “You wouldn’t dare. My father would—”
“Your father’s objections
are a quality problem. He has to come the hell out of his office if he wants to protect you. As things stand, I could tie you over a table and whip you to death. Believe me, Daddy wouldn’t come your rescue.”
Feeling bile rise in her throat, Lila said, “What do you want me to do?”
“Get him to open up.”
“Why?”
“The grid is still down, but Terrence says there’s tons of new power pumping into the Apex. ‘Charging up’ is the way he said it. And with the second ship feeding it—”
“What second ship?”
“But the Astrals won’t talk. Shit, don’t talk, maybe can’t talk. Except to your father, or through your father, or through his computer — hell, I don’t know. But nobody here knows what’s happening. There are Reptars everywhere out there — searching, prowling, fucking slaughtering people, I have no idea. The Apex has a goddamned line out front, all Titans, like a nightclub. You can see it flashing and strobing even with the sun up. It seems to be projecting something into the desert; that’s new. It’s like they’re gearing up for something. Shuttles are buzzing all over the place, and nobody is even showing us what we’re maybe supposed to be doing. They don’t care about us, Lila; they let us run this city, but they don’t need us. Now they’re not even pretending. Even Jons says he’s not sure what he should do because the Titans all just gesture and point, like a giant game of charades.”
Lila’s anger melted into fear. She was back in the bunker again, with menace above, helpless and waiting. Maybe Raj wasn’t the enemy here, for once.
“I know he’s in his office,” Raj went on. “I can hear him in there, maybe with someone who came in last night; I’m not sure. But he won’t open for me or for Mo, and I’m not about to ask your mother. That leaves you. And maybe Clara.”
Lila’s eyes went to the crib, where her too-old-for-cribs daughter was sleeping through her parents’ argument. That had been a step too far.
“You just want me to talk to him,” Lila said.
Raj nodded.
“Get him to talk,” he said, “and find out what’s going on.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Christopher was sitting in his cell, exhausted, unable to sleep on his shitty cot. Jons had tried to help. He’d given Christopher additional blankets and pillows, and he’d slipped him some extra food. But he could only do so much. The human police station was overrun with Titans — more proof that Heaven’s Veil had, for reasons unknown, become a police state.
There was a shuffling from the front room, where Jons had stationed a skinny cop named Mallory. At first, Christopher thought the girl must have stumbled and fallen, but then the last person Christopher expected burst through the door and came running forward.
“Lila?”
Mallory was behind Lila, her hands up as if making a gesture of trying to stop her without actually intending to. But then her hands just sort of fell and she walked out without a word. Christopher was human. Lila was human. And so Officer Mallory, who was human as well, seemed not to give a shit what they got up to so long as it was for humanity’s general advancement.
Lila rushed to Christopher and tried to embrace him through the bars. They clanged their heads. When she pulled back, Christopher saw what a mess she was: sweaty, dark hair askew, big brown eyes wild. She had wet patches under both arms and a mist of perspiration in her cleavage. It might have been a turn-on if not for certain obvious buzzkills.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Before responding, Lila took several deep, heaving breaths. She was completely winded, as if she’d taken the station at a sprint.
“I have to … be quick. Raj—”
“Is he bothering you? That motherfucker tossed me—”
She shook her head vigorously enough to make her hair fly. “No. Listen. He … thinks I’m … with Dad.”
“So you ran down here?”
“Raj …” deep breath, “ … knows.”
“I know he knows. That’s why I’m here.”
“No. About Cameron … and Piper. About—”
“They’re safe. I know where they are.”
She shook her head again, frustrated. “The Apex.”
“What about it?”
“Raj knows they’re … in the city. And the Apex is … something’s changing.”
Christopher didn’t like the sound of that. He straightened, his skin prickling.
“What do you mean?”
“They can’t … try for the Apex.” Finally, she sat on a bench, forcing her breath back to normal. “The Astrals are swarming it. They’ll … be caught. You need to get them a message.”
Christopher looked around the cell. “I can’t.”
“Then I have to,” she said. “Where are they?”
“You can’t. Raj will have you arrested.”
Lila’s frustration was boiling over. Her big eyes looked bloodshot. Her breath was calming but still not even. She was beaten, tired, emotionally wrecked. Terrence had told him that Meyer was acting strange, Heather was always strange, and Clara was strange with an exponent. Lila had married an asswipe, and now her lover was in jail. His simple statement seemed to be the breaking straw, and her eyes began to mist, threatening to spill.
“I have to! You have to tell me! The whole Astral army is on the Apex! Raj makes it sound like … they’ve pulled out all the stops to … find them! If they don’t stay put—”
Christopher cut her off. An idea was forming. One that would keep Lila safe, protect Cameron and Piper, and maybe earn humanity a few disarming brownie points with the Astrals — all while getting their scattered eggs closer to sharing a basket, back where they belonged.
“Jons,” he said. “Go out into the other room, and ask Captain Jons to come in here. But first, tell him to call the house and ask for Raj. Tell him to have Raj haul his ass down here, post haste.”
Exasperated, near panic: “Why?”
“I want the two of them to go get Cameron and Piper then arrest them.”
Chapter Fifty
Lila breathed.
She went to one of the hallway mirrors and tried to fluff her hair. With Raj called to the station, there was no rush. He wouldn’t have the mental bandwidth to think of Lila, and any possible delays she might have committed on her way to her assigned errand. Not with Cameron and Piper in his greedy little sights. She simply didn’t want to look like a pig — or to give her father, if he’d talk to her, reason to wonder why she looked so harried.
But when Lila was sufficiently composed and turned from the mirror to the office hallway, she heard the sounds of activity ahead. And when she arrived at Meyer’s office door, it was as her gut had promised: the door was open as usual, her father puttering around as if nothing was amiss.
Hearing her approach, he turned and said, “Hey, Pumpkin.”
Pumpkin? When had he last called her that? The pet name felt a thousand years old. From a simpler time, before alien motherships hung from the sky like poisonous fruit.
“Dad?”
Meyer smiled. Seeing that felt strange, too.
“Do you need something?”
“I …” She stopped. This was clearly a mistake. The house, being stone, was quiet even with all the Astral activity outside. The home was typically filled with Titans, but Raj had been right: They seemed to be massing on the Apex, bleeding them from their normal positions in the corridors. The way Lila and Meyer were now, they might have been any father and daughter, anywhere, any time other than here and now.
“You what?”
“Raj asked me to come see you.”
“Oh yeah?” He set down a stack of papers he’d been carrying. “About what?”
Lila almost said It’s nothing and left, but the abject normality of the situation was, in itself, unusual. Raj was right: The viceroy alone talked to Divinity and might have some clue as to what was happening outside — and having gone outside herself, Lila could say for sure that something was definitely afoot. Beyon
d the mansion grounds, Heaven’s Veil seemed under siege. And yet here was Meyer, all but holding a placid cup of morning coffee as he went about his paperwork.
“He said you had a visitor.” Lila looked around the room, seeing that they were alone.
“I did. He’s gone.”
“Who was it?”
“A friend.”
Lila wanted to ask but knew it would be prying. It could have been anyone. Viceroy business had never been her business and likely never would be. And besides, that wasn’t what mattered now.
“Raj thought you were still down here with him.”
“No. He’s gone.”
“Where?”
“Where he needs to be.”
“Dad, are you okay?” It was an absurd question. Of course he was.
“I’m great.”
“Have you seen what’s happening outside?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“What’s on your mind, Lila?”
“The second mothership,” she said, forcing the sentence out. The foreign words felt strange. How could she be talking about motherships and little green men who, it turned out, weren’t little or green? This was only an office. Just another day in logical paradise.
“What about it?”
“Why is it here?”
“It’s feeding us power. Because the network is out.”
Lila flicked the wall switch. Nothing happened.
“Not the house,” Meyer said.
“So, the city.”
“No. The power is for them.”
“Why?”
“Because they need power.”
“Why, Dad?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Lila paused, resetting, wondering if she should try again from a new angle.