by Platt, Sean
There was a booming outside. The walls shook. Dust sifted down from the ceiling.
“What the fuck was that?” Jons said.
“The spotlight,” Clara said. “They’re getting ready to turn it on.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Heather didn’t ask questions. She’d followed a spook out of her house, found a guy whose reputation was that of a barbaric warlord at the end of its pointed finger, then together the two of them had lucked past countless Reptar and Titan patrols to reach the fence — this time obviously following something Nathan couldn’t even see. So the whys, wheres, and hows of Andreus getting a security code from Meyer were small potatoes by comparison.
When the wave of energy (there was no better way to describe it; it was light and sound but mostly just force) rushed from the Apex pyramid, Heather barely cared. Shit might blow up soon. So what?
Andreus wasn’t as casual. He stopped with his hand on the small fence gate, his fingers hitting buttons on a touch screen. The code seemed long and complicated — as much pattern as numbers and letters. But Andreus did it easily, his mind having no problem with recall under pressure.
“What was that?”
“The pyramid.”
“What’s it doing?”
“There’s obviously no way I’d know the answer to that, but I could make up some bullshit. Can I interest you in some bullshit?”
Andreus was still frozen, now staring directly at the Apex. Staring through the shadow creature, from where Heather was standing. It had been putting out long tendrils, like horizontal columns of smoke. And even now, as if summoned, Heather could see people creeping forward from the distant gully.
When the Apex did nothing further, Andreus’s attention fell from it.
He turned to watch the forces approach. Opened the gate. And let the group of around fifty people — along with a few hand-wheeled motorbikes that would make entirely too much noise when started — into the small alcove behind buildings. It was an oasis of relative quiet near the main Astral traffic thoroughfare, protected but surrounded. They’d be safe here, so long as they didn’t move. And if this had been a trap from the start (to get Heather and Andreus’s soldiers all in one place for a tidy slaughter), then … well, frankly, they were fucked.
A brunette woman of around Heather’s height and build pushed through the crowd. Andreus seemed surprised to see her and embraced the woman before suddenly becoming awkward. Apparently, that wasn’t their normal manner of greeting, and Andreus wasn’t as imperturbable as he seemed.
He introduced the two women, ignoring the others. They were all settling in, jostling weapons, looking uneasy to be deep in enemy territory — or, if Heather understood Nathan’s story of his encounter with Meyer, friendly territory. The Astral/Republic arrangement struck Heather as a deal with the devil, and one where the devil never took his knife from your throat. Probably the reason Andreus was double-dealing so readily: if they’d threaten his daughter to gain his allegiance, the man’s nature was to bite, not to lie down or roll over.
“Why are you here?” he asked the woman he’d introduced as Jeanine Coffey.
“They got your drone. You told them to come.”
“I asked why you were here. Where are Charlie and Grace?”
“Same place we were when you left. A mile off the front gate.”
Andreus’s face changed. “You shouldn’t have left them.”
“They’ll be safe, Nathan. I had to come. I had to tell you something: Charlie says Thor’s Hammer isn’t under the Apex.”
Heather watched a frown form on his face. “I thought that might be the case,” he said. “How did you know the Republic was here?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how—”
This time, Coffey’s face pinched. She looked at Heather, seeming to decide if she wanted to share with an audience.
“The thing Piper saw. The thing she said was following us from Moab. It led me here.”
Andreus looked level at Coffey, glancing at Heather. Then he said, “Charlie is sure?”
Coffey nodded. “You know how he is. I was insulting him by even asking.”
“Then where is it?”
“He doesn’t know. But he says the Apex is important for another reason, and that’s why Benjamin was studying it. We assumed he’d be researching Thor’s Hammer right before we went after it in Little Cottonwood Canyon, but based on what Cameron said, I think Charlie might be right and that there’d be no reason for Benjamin to research the Hammer’s location.”
“What did Cameron say?”
“That Benjamin already knew where it was. Like it was obvious. He thought Cameron would think it was obvious, too. But the joke was on him, I guess, since the next thing Benjamin did was to die.”
Heather felt a chill. She hadn’t known Benjamin Bannister. She’d never even met him. But she knew the name, she knew his son, and it seemed too many people were in mortal peril these days.
“And the Apex?”
As if on cue, the big blue pyramid flashed again. The second mothership’s energy beam seemed to have finished whatever it was doing — powering the thing up, perhaps — but when Heather looked toward the flash, she saw something on the horizon that chilled her blood: another two spheres approaching: motherships, possibly with their own bellies full of power, like giant batteries.
“It was interesting to Benjamin. That’s all Charlie knew.” Coffey’s gaze ticked up. The second mothership began to move away. The others were already closer.
Changing of the guard.
Nathan looked up, noting the arriving ships with a neutral nod.
“I think we might know more than Benjamin right now,” Andreus said, “and what we need to do next, if we won’t find the Hammer here, is obvious.”
All eyes turned to the Apex.
“The rebels have tried to destroy it a dozen times with no luck,” Coffey said.
“We’ll try something different,” Andreus said.
Heather watched him. In the corner of her eye, the shadow stirred, agitated.
“We’ll hit it,” he said, “from the inside out.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
“What’s that?”
Terrence looked up. The drone had stopped circling, called home as if by its mother. The view, such as Terrence had cobbled it with approximately half of his ass, had gone black. Based on what he’d seen last, Terrance guessed someone had stowed the thing — maybe inside the city’s fence and maybe outside; he didn’t know. But the RF signal was still active. Still right there, for anyone paying attention and knowledgeable about communications to pluck from the air, decode, and watch even without a network in place.
Raj was standing over him. Behind him. Having approached and taken Terrence by surprise, seeing as Terrence thought he was still encumbered at the station with Christopher, Cameron, and Piper. But here he was, staring at something Terrence shouldn’t be able to see — and that Raj definitely shouldn’t be allowed to see.
Terrence quickly recovered his cool. “It’s a dead surveillance feed.”
Raj said, “Nothing’s back up.”
“I know. I keep telling you, I can’t unburn a—”
Terrence stopped when Raj hit him, hard. His hand went to his chin, moving it to test its integrity, wincing from the dull throb of pain.
“What were you looking at?”
“A dead surveillance feed!”
Raj hit him again.
“Don’t bullshit me, Terrence! I’m not my wife! I know this shit as well as you do and I’m not the goddamned joke everyone thinks I am!”
Terrence looked up at Raj. His face was purple everywhere Meyer had struck him. His eyes had swollen slightly, giving him a somewhat squinting appearance. But the bit of his brown irises Terrence could see was ripe with menace. Maybe murder.
But it’s not like he could say what he’d really been checking, no matter how much Raj meant business.
“Look. I know the
network is down, obviously.” He held up a warding hand. “I really can’t fix any of this, Raj. You can hit me as many times as you want, and that’s not going to change. But there are still recordings on the server.” He decided to tell a revealing lie, incriminating himself a little so that Raj wouldn’t incriminate him all the way. “I know I shouldn’t be looking. But I wanted to see the footage of you shooting Meyer.”
For a second, Terrence thought Raj believed him. It was just macabre enough to be true, and forbidden enough to be something worth hiding. But Raj snatched the tablet, cabled it to one of the bigger machines, and went to work with grim dedication. He wasn’t stupid. Being a fool was something different, separate from intelligence.
“It’s an RF feed. Where is there still an RF feed active?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
Raj slammed his fist on the table.
“I just saw it was out there. You can see it yourself, Raj. It’s black. Nothing to it. Some kid probably has one of those remote-control cars with a camera; remember those? And it’s parked under his bed, left on. I just happened to find it.”
“And then you hid it from me.” He set the tablet down then sat slowly across from Terrence. His manner wasn’t Raj at all. Cool and calm. Precise enough to give Terrence a chill. “Why wouldn’t you tell me about this when I asked?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“But I asked you what you were looking at. And not only did you lie; you flash-erased your history. Like you thought I wouldn’t know how to check the logs.”
“I …”
“I’ll tell you what I think it is,” Raj said, meeting his eyes and daring a challenge. “I think this is something from your buddies. Christopher, Cameron, Piper, Heather — maybe Meyer, if he’s still allegiant where I think he is, even though he’s clearly lost his fucking mind.”
Raj shifted. Resumed.
“I think that black feed was showing you something you needed to see. Not just something interesting, but some sort of a communication.”
“Raj, you’ve been watching every type of—”
Raj raised a hand. In a way, it was worse than being hit.
“If that’s what it was, then there’s someone you need to get that information to. And that means someone is up to something. Something coordinated. So that means someone will eventually check in with you because you know something they need to know. How will they contact you, Terrence?”
He watched Raj, wondering what lies he could get away with and which truths would see him punished.
Raj reached for his side. His right hand came up holding a black handgun. He placed the barrel to Terrence’s forehead. Terrence felt his eyes tick toward it, trying to see the barrel. He felt the press of cool metal.
“What happens,” Raj said, “when you’re unable to deliver whatever you’re supposed to?”
“Raj—”
“You know, the viceroy won’t talk to me. Me, of all people, who’s never turned on this city’s leadership. Mo Weir won’t talk to me, and the Titans and Reptars don’t talk to anyone.”
The weapon shifted as Raj moved his thumb. There was a heavy mechanical click from above.
“But I’ll bet you know, Terrence. You’re a really smart guy. So tell me: What’s going on out there? More motherships are arriving and pumping beams into the Apex. The thing keeps shaking and flashing. You always had the best theories. What do you think is happening?”
“They’re …” It was so hard to speak smoothly with a cocked gun to his head. “It’s an antenna. You know the Apexes form an antenna array!”
“Uh-huh. And what are they doing? Calling other Astrals?”
“Maybe! I don’t know!”
“If you had to guess.”
Terrence swallowed.
“I see. You don’t know. I’ll bet you wanted help figuring it out. Christopher? No, he’s an idiot. But he knows the Astral movements, and he’s your pal, right? Or Cameron. I’ll bet he has thoughts. But you couldn’t possibly be talking to them. Not now that they’re both in …”
Raj stopped. Terrence went cold, seeing revelation.
Raj stood. He pulled Terrence to standing, the gun still to his head. Raj’s hand was suddenly shaking, his finger maybe under the handgun’s guard, Terrence’s brains kept in his skull only by a few ounces of missing pressure on the trigger.
“They’re in jail together, aren’t they? That’s what they wanted, isn’t it? Jons knew exactly where they were because Christopher told him. Is Jons in on this, Terrence? Is everyone in on it?”
“I—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“Maybe Christopher told him! Maybe Jons beat it out of him!”
Raj’s lips firmed. His eyes grew hard. The barrel’s pressure against his forehead increased, becoming a knife’s dull edge. The weapon shook, and for a long second Terrence was sure it was over. Then Raj snatched the gun back, shoved him away, and took a step back. He became agitated. Fidgeting, pacing, ranting.
“The information about the ‘antenna,’ Terrence,” he said, making a clear effort not to snap as realization dawned. “How did you get it to them?”
“I didn’t! I don’t even know that—”
“I knew that was too easy. Just me and Jons and his men. No Astrals. Hell, they didn’t even try to run. Just let us shove them in right beside Christopher.” He was gesturing with the cocked weapon, and with every sweep of his arms Terrence braced for the gun to go off. “But whatever you were watching on that tablet. The RF feed. And maybe the thing about the Apex. Christopher can’t come around anymore. Jons stays at the station. And—”
Raj stopped speaking as if interrupted.
“Lila.”
“What?”
“It was Lila. She’s your go-between, right?”
“No!”
“LILA!” Raj shouted.
“Raj, she’s not—”
Raj pointed the gun at Terrence from across the room and yelled again, louder.
“Our apartment is right downstairs. I know she can hear me. She’s not in the house, is she? Where is she, Terrence? Is she down at the station?” His temper slipped another notch. “Did she come to visit you while I was out on that little fool’s errand?”
“No!”
Raj stalked forward, grabbed Terrence by the shirt, then dragged him from the network center and down the stairs, murder audible in every breath.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Piper didn’t understand how Clara and Cameron seemed to know each other. They’d never met, and it was unlikely that Piper’s scattered profile made her seem as familiar to him as she apparently was. There was something going on. Something she couldn’t quite …
But maybe she could. Piper looked over at the small girl and the man opposite her, on his knees. They could talk easily enough through the bars, so Jons had vetoed the idea of opening the door. It was unnecessary, and if any of the station’s cops (or Titans, though they’d seen almost no Astrals on the trip over) entered to an open cell door, there would be questions.
Watching them, Piper felt an intense sense of déjà vu, as if she’d seen this all before.
A man. A girl. Speaking across symbols of confinement, discussing what needed to be.
Whatever Piper was feeling, it wasn’t exact. Close, but not precisely the same. But yes, she remembered this. Not from a dream, but from life.
Jons reentered the room. He looked at Cameron and Clara in their whispered concentration then at Lila, who was watching them both. Christopher was across the room in his cell. So Jons spoke to Piper.
“There are more motherships.” Jons was a big man with a booming voice, intimidating simply by his presence. But Piper could tell he was frightened.
“What do you mean?”
“Outside. Near the Apex. Connected to the Apex. Two more.”
“Two more?”
Across the room, Christopher was gripping the bars, as close to the conversation as the cel
l allowed. Lila was watching the police captain with big brown eyes. Only Cameron and Clara, still deep in some kind of shared mumbling trance, were oblivious. Or, Piper thought, perhaps unsurprised.
“Three total.” Jons said. “The Apex is glowing brighter. I saw another flash, like that one last night. It made a little boom like before. Did you feel it in here?”
Piper nodded.
“Something big is happening. Like she said.” He tipped his head toward Lila. “There’s no Astrals out there. Not on the streets, anyway.”
“Then we can get away!”
Jons shook his head. “There’s shuttles. Lots of ’em. Each of the three new motherships seems to have brought its own. But they’ve cleared the streets. Or gone to the Apex; they seem to have been headed that way earlier.”
“Why, do you think?” Piper asked.
Christopher spoke before Jons. “Sounds like an evacuation.”
The word prickled Piper’s skin. She looked down at Cameron, but the two were still immersed, doing something odd like meditation, something she couldn’t …
You know, Piper. You just don’t know you know.
Piper blinked at Cameron and Clara. The voice in her head was nearly audible, almost present. The press of déjà vu deepened as she tried to grab its edge, to catch its ephemeral shape before it could slide away like a dream upon waking.
Meyer. It had been Meyer’s voice. But when?
Heather. Lila. You know what they’ve been hearing. The Astrals say we’re different and can’t hear minds. But we’re still their children. The ability is inside us.
“Piper, what’s—” Lila started to say.
Piper shot a hand out, one finger raised, telling her to shut up and wait. She didn’t move her head. She couldn’t. She almost had it. Almost understood why seeing Clara and Cameron now raised such déjà vu. It had something to do with Lila. Heather? And Meyer. He’d been speaking to her. But where? When? And why couldn’t she remember?
The others don’t matter, came Meyer’s voice inside her mind, streaming up from some forgotten past. They will only compromise for our own because they matter to me. To you. To us. It’s just Heather. Lila. Trevor. If others die, they die.