by Julian North
“Nythan will have ideas. I need to get him back. I need to get him back no matter what. He was only on that platform because of me. This wasn’t his fight. It was never his fight.”
“Rhett told me you’d say that.” Rudolph gave me a deep, resigned sigh. “My dear, Bronx City is a long way from Charlotte, even if your information is correct and he’s there. We aren’t the only ones with air defenses here in the South. It won’t be easy getting there.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“Not tonight, at least. Rhett tells me you’ve been through a great deal.”
My teeth clenched. “I’m fine.”
Rudolph clasped his wrinkled hands together in mock delight. “Excellent. Because you have been summoned to the special secretary’s residence this evening.”
“The who?”
“Your friend, Mr. Aris-Putch. That’s his official title. I guess Hoven didn’t know what to call him, and highborn do like their titles. At least it isn’t hyphenated.”
“How do I get there?”
“We’ll take you. I’m not invited, of course, but I had a thought of coming along anyway. It won’t be the first party I’ve crashed.”
Despite everything, something like a grin crept onto the corners of my mouth. “I appreciate the thought, but I should hear Jalen out—alone. He may have his own motives, but… he is honorable in his own way.”
Rudolph hacked out a scoff that sounded more like a cough. “I’ll still accompany you there. And make sure you leave as well. We’ll get more suitable clothes sent for you and give you a chance to clean up. But don’t go overboard—we don’t want to keep the secretary waiting.”
They brought me a dress—a blue, flowery thing that Rhett told me was fashionable in these parts. There was no way I was going to meet Jalen Aris-Putch in that. I ended up in someone else’s clothes—black jeans and a wrapped white top that was probably a nurse’s street outfit. It wasn’t as elegant as the dress, but at least I didn’t feel like I was pretending to be someone else.
Once I was suitably attired, Rudolph led Rhett and me outside onto a night punctuated by intermittent gusts of chilling wind that portended a storm. It seemed fitting. Rudolph’s driver sped toward downtown Charlotte through nearly empty streets. I’d made us late, apparently.
“Pretty quiet in the nation’s new capital, it seems. Is there a country to run? Or at least part of one.”
“There’s a Yankee army one hundred and fifty miles away. We haven’t fared very well in our battles so far,” Rudolph noted in a wry voice. “You can be sure the whole cabinet has razorFish on standby too.”
The sedan brought us to a stately old building with marble columns surrounded by a grand lawn. Larger, modern buildings stared down at the old edifice like contemptuous giants. Smoke rose from an ancient chimney on the roof. Before we reached the security gate, Rudolph handed me a viser.
“I understand you had to leave yours behind,” he said. “Ping if you need me.”
I slipped the device on—it was one of the older Rose-Hart models, not a glittering organic thing, for which I was grateful.
“You think of everything.” I remembered the sleek device Alexander had gifted to me just a short time ago. It felt wrong that it was still on that extraction platform.
The car passed through a weapon scanner, then arrived at a security booth staffed by soldiers in olive uniforms. Beside them was a gleaming battleMech drone with tracked wheels and a rotating gun turret for a face. Man and machine watched us warily as we passed through toward the main house.
Two men in fancy red and white livery met us at the entrance. Looking at the stately building and its accompanying trappings, I considered changing my mind and asking Rudolph and Rhett to join me. This wasn’t my arena. But I held firm in the end. It was still Jalen—I’d taken his measure before. He had kept my secret; I would honor his request to meet alone and hear him out.
“Be careful, Daniela,” Rhett told me as I got out of the car. “You aren’t unbeatable.”
I placed one hand on his knee. “I know you’ll have my back.” I got out to face Jalen.
He received me in a stately library, the walls twelve feet high and lined with ancient paper books. A crystal chandelier blazed overhead. He was dressed formally, in a Manhattan-style black robe of silk. Dinner was already laid out on a small table near an oversized window in the corner of the room.
“I thought you might be hungry. I doubt you took time to eat.”
There was a beautifully roasted chicken on the table, already carved, its skin golden-brown. Real, fresh vegetables adorned the edge of the table, mixing with the smell of freshly baked bread. My mouth watered despite my turmoil and fatigue.
“It seems I am.”
Jalen pulled back one of the two high-backed chairs, as if he were a gentleman and this was just a pleasant evening dinner. I sat and dug into the offerings without delay or ceremony. I knew it was uncouth, but I wasn’t here for pleasantries. I anticipated that I would quickly lose my appetite once Jalen started talking about matters of substance.
He indulged my gluttony without comment, his lips drawn in a thin, amused line. A servant came in to offer wine, but I refused it. My stomach was empty except for what I was eating now, and I needed my wits about me. Jalen took a glass but didn’t touch it. Nor did he eat more than two bites of the dinner he had arranged. He merely watched, studying me. I supposed he was considering how best to get what he wanted from me.
“How is Alexander?” he asked when I finally set down my fork.
“You know already, don’t you?” It came out harsher than I wanted. What had happened to Alexander wasn’t Jalen’s fault. If anyone was to blame, besides Virginia and Havelock, it was me.
“I read Dr. Hammond-Stein’s report. However, I gather you don’t agree with his conclusion.”
“There is still hope for him. I know it. Somewhere, there is an answer.” The image of those great waves returned to me, of a place far away, where Kristolan had once been, long before I had known her. The image of a woman flashed before me. One with eyes of sapphire and a face of faded beauty. A wave of dizziness struck me.
I shook the vision from my head. Jalen stood over me, one hand on my shoulder, the other hand flicking his viser.
“Daniela, are you unwell?”
Two more employees entered the room. Jalen stopped them with an open palm as I regarded him.
“I’m fine. A dizzy spell. The food, perhaps. Probably the first solid thing I’ve eaten in a week.” He continued to stare hard at me. “I’m fine, I assure you.”
Jalen waved his minions away, and we were alone again. “You believe your friend Nythan Royce will be able to do what no other doctor can?”
“Not alone, no. But what happened to Alexander… it’s not an ordinary chip, you know that, right? It’s something else. Something worse. But it didn’t work on him, not completely. He’s asleep, or whatever, but not controlled. It hasn’t beaten him yet. He’s still in there, somewhere.”
As I said it, I realized that was what I wanted to be true, but I was far from certain that I was correct.
Jalen laid his hands on the table. “Let us say you are correct. Besides your friend Nythan being returned to you, what else do you need?”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you proposing a trade?”
“I am exploring if our interests are more aligned than perhaps you think. We may both want the same thing, albeit for different purposes. Although I assure you, I too would like to see Alexander returned to us. He is a person of honor, and Virginia has already claimed too many.”
“What is it you want from me?”
Jalen leaned back, his hands together beneath his chin. “We are losing people to Virginia. Men and women who have been our supporters since before this began have been going over to the North—betrayals by individuals of honor. They are abrupt, and it makes no sense on its own.”
“Rudolph mentioned something similar.”
“But
seeing what Virginia did to Alexander, what she has been working on at the platform, it all perhaps makes more sense.”
“You think they’ve been chipped?”
Jalen stood up and walked to the window. The reflection of his troubled features stared back at me through the dark glass as he answered. “They were not chipped. These were people who had joined us in the South. One was a general, charged with the defense of Richmond—a man my mother knew for thirty years. In the midst of a battle, he defected. Others have turned over information about our supply lines, surrendered a key base… the list goes on. They were all highborn, all well-guarded. There is no way they were chipped.”
“Then what happened to them?”
Jalen turned back to the table. “Your power—this trill. It would explain a great deal.”
“You said they were highborn. Trilling doesn’t work on highborn.” At least if there is only one of us. “And it doesn’t work at a distance, or over data lines. I need to be in proximity to the person.”
“But Virginia knows about this power, yes? And has for some time?”
“She knows. I don’t know for how long.” Damn Havelock. Why would he give knowledge to such a person? Rudolph’s words rang in my ears: there was a void of evil within her.
“Alexander has the same ability as you, yes?”
I just stared at him, straining to reveal nothing.
Jalen sighed at my reticence. “I believe that he is the same. That would make sense. She sent Nythan to a detention camp—he’s just a smart kid to her. But Alexander is a powerful foe, a man of standing. Turning him would have value in any case, but she tried to chip him—with a very unusual chip. It’s like nothing the doctors have seen before.”
I forced out the words. “He is the same as me.”
“Just a few days after your capture, the defections began. Before that, nothing. Granted, the war has not been a long one, but these events may well be connected.”
I couldn’t disagree with that conclusion based on what I knew so far. Yet something was not right about it either. “She couldn’t manage to fully chip Alexander. And she did not succeed with me.”
“True, but you two are rather special, aren’t you? You are trillers. Your genes aren’t just refined. They mutated into something else. Perhaps you are protected, while the rest of us are vulnerable. She may have learned something from having the pair of you to study. Something vital, something that she could weaponize quickly.”
The notion was painful but all too plausible. I might be responsible for giving Virginia the power to seize total power, to enslave an entire nation, highborn and nope alike. It was another jab to my heart.
“We cannot survive much longer if this continues, Daniela. The country will be hers. And it may not stop there.”
I was still sitting, but in my mind, I was falling down a pit, cold and dark and endless.
“You must have a plan.” I realized it was true as I said the words. Jalen didn’t have idle chats. “And it must be dangerous, something that President Hoven wouldn’t approve of, or I wouldn’t be here.”
Jalen tipped his head toward me. “It has been proven that even the most honorable men are susceptible to Virginia’s influence. The fewer people who know of your talents, or this conversation, the better. And, yes, there are some who would seek to use you as a research subject—scared men who think they could find some answer quickly enough that way.”
So, I’m not being strapped to a bed in one of your labs because of a timing issue, Jalen?
I stood, my eyes level with Jalen’s, challenge within them. “But not you?”
“Do you think me such a monster?”
“You once told me highborn were born to rule,” I reminded him.
“It is the natural order that the wise should guide the foolish, the competent teach the ignorant. But that is not what Virginia seeks. For her, she seeks… she lusts for power. Her drive to control is…” He shook his head, his words failing.
“Evil.”
Jalen was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps that is the right word.”
“What is your plan, Jalen?”
“I believe our desires coincide. You wish to save your friend Nythan from the detention and chipping facility in Bronx City. Kortilla’s brother and father are there, as well as your own brother, I understand.” He raised his brows, and I lowered my chin enough for the gesture to be a confirmation. “We monitored hydroTrans moving back and forth from the platform from that facility. I’ve reviewed archived data from our satellites, and it has been going on for some time. There is a connection between the Fulton Fishkill detention facility and the extraction platform. There may be answers there.”
A surge of hope filled me. “You want to send me to Bronx City? You want me to… trill people at the facility to find out what they know?”
“There is information there that we need. But I also want you to free those people, Daniela, Kortilla’s family included. I promised her I would help.” Jalen’s intensity surprised me. “I’ve had enough of Virginia Timber-Night winning every battle.” He barely sounded like Jalen.
“You already know I want to go there.” I rolled the opportunity around in my head. It was too good to be true. Too easy. “What about Alexander?”
“I will keep his secret, Daniela. He will get the best care we can give. We will keep looking for answers here. You have my word.”
I studied him. Jalen’s countenance revealed nothing of use.
“I want Rudolph Banks to have access to him. And it’s my show. I’m done being manipulated to serve others or being sent on missions with hidden objectives. You want to know what’s going on in that camp. So do I. And I want my friends and family free.” I stepped closer to Jalen and spoke in a steel whisper worthy of his own voice. “I’ll rip the truth from any mind I need to once I’m there—I’ll get this done. But no tricks. You get me in and out, you help me where I need it, but we’re partners. If you lie to me about anything, all agreements are void.”
Jalen nodded curtly, annoyed. “I expected that. There will be no lies, no tricks, as you say, at least not from me. But I do hope you’ll listen to good advice.”
I backed off. “I’ll try. I want Rhett to go with me.”
Jalen hesitated. “He’s a soldier—a brave one. But he doesn’t know Manhattan or Bronx City.”
“He’s proven I can trust him. I want him.”
“As you wish.” Jalen flicked his viser, and the curtains closed. “There’s more going on in Manhattan as well. There may be a connection.” A few more finger movements, and a three-dimensional image of a city appeared before us in the dark. It took me a moment to realize it was Manhattan. The view rotated, then zoomed in. It was a satellite image taken from the top down. “You see that object in the sky? It’s a bit strange from this perspective.”
“It’s a drone. So what?”
“Yes, it’s a drone. It looks like a standard RocketDyn surveyor. But upon closer analysis, it’s more than that.” Jalen enlarged the image. “See those small black boxes across the top and the golden alloy connecting them? That isn’t standard.”
RocketDyn. Alissa’s dad’s company.
“What are they?”
Jalen frowned. “We don’t know. The alloy is a superconductor of some kind. We don’t know the purpose of the additional equipment. We’ve gone through satellite surveillance archives and have located at least four of these new models.
“What are they doing?”
“We don’t know. This one in Manhattan has appeared every day for the past three days, usually for several hours. Our satellite coverage isn’t complete, so we haven’t been able to track its landing site. But yesterday something unique and unexpected happened.”
The image transformed into green-hued night vision. The drone hovered as it had in the other images. It grew larger in front of me, and I realized it was trembling slightly. Then it began a controlled descent, finally landing on a rooftop. A shape—probably a person�
��clad in scan resistance garb hurried over to the inert drone and examined it. It was hard to tell exactly what that person did, but they were in a rush. Jalen fast-forwarded the image. Less than two minutes later, the drone was back in the air, as if nothing had happened.
“Do you recognize the location?”
The image zoomed out, the view becoming wider—enough to see the street and the buildings nearby. I knew the place well.
“It’s Tuck.”
Chapter 6
Jalen knew that I’d agree to go—he already had his plan in motion. It was remarkably simple. I had expected a covert air-drop, maybe involving his stealth jammer or perhaps another submarine mission. I was overthinking matters.
“You’ll drive there,” he told me. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
The plan was sound, and Jalen made the arrangements that he promised. Just over eight days had passed since the first shots were fired in Virginia Timber-Night’s coup. The battle lines between the North and South were constantly in flux. In some places, there was fighting; in others, it was difficult to see any signs of the civil war. There were checkpoints at a few state crossings, but most of the so-called border between the sides was peaceful—and unguarded. There hadn’t been time yet to issue different citizenship authentication. All it would take to blend in on the roads of the North was a license plate from a Northern state and a fake viser identification. Neither presented much of a challenge.
I was relieved when Rhett volunteered to join me. I wasn’t sure if I had it within me to ask another friend to risk their life for me. The third person in the vehicle was Katrina Homer-Yale, a lithe woman with arms and legs longer than mine. Lips so dark that they were nearly blue punctuated a beautiful face that was too severe and unconventional to have been the product of an alternator. She reminded me of a cat in the way she walked, the way she moved.
“I will drive,” she told us, her words quiet but firm in the same way Jalen’s were.