He did tell her, towards the end, to be careful.
He also reminded her that Varlan wasn't the reason she was here. Varlan was the means for her visit to South America, not the end. All of them, including Dehgoies, wanted to know everything she could find out about this mysterious Shadow person, no matter what compromises were needed to gain that information.
Sadly, so far, that hadn't been much.
The first two meetings Varlan tried to arrange had fallen through, less than four hours before they'd planned on leaving to attend. The three after that had each been postponed...and that was after they had traveled the length of the continent to be nearer to the large land holdings covering most of the southern tip, down to Tierra del Fuego.
The latest attempt to meet had been postponed again.
It had now been over two months since they'd first landed in Buenos Aires, and Chandre still hadn't managed to get into the same room with anyone directly affiliated with Varlan's 'Shadow.' In fact, if she could believe Varlan, they hadn't even spoken to one of his high level employees.
On the other hand, they hadn't been turned away altogether yet, either...which Chandre found odder in some ways.
Now they stood right outside Shadow's high, organic gates, having managed to breach the walls of the fortress-like land-holding for the first time, and Chandre still felt skeptical. Given the locked gates, the empty driveway and otherwise lack of reception for their well-surveilled party, she still didn't exactly feel warmly received.
In Buenos Aires and en route, she'd tried to find out everything she could about who owned the tracts of land covering most of the Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego. In particular, she focused on the land lying between the nearest human cities and that rough and long stretch of ocean where the South Pacific met the South Atlantic, that meeting occurring none too gently. She'd hit mostly dead ends...international holding companies of whatever kind, corporations with the GNP of medium-sized countries and names she'd never heard of before. One or two of these, she recognized from the business world, but they'd all been human.
Whatever seers actually owned or controlled these pieces of land, they were keeping their names and faces very much behind the scenes.
Glancing down the hill to the human village below the hacienda, Chandre couldn't help noticing how primitive everything looked. She didn't see any satellite dishes, unlike even in poor sections of India or Brazil, where they dotted over half the dwellings. She didn't see any residents wearing headsets, either, or carrying portable monitors or even tablets.
The town was oddly quiet as a result.
People spoke to one another from chairs located in the same rooms. She heard laughter a few times, but even that sounded subdued, as if the whole town remained conscious of their ability to disturb the silence of the walled-in valley.
Chandre had seen and smelled a lot of animals, however...probably more per human than she'd seen in any other place she could remember, at least in recent years. Sheep grazed on the steep hillsides, along with taller animals that must be llamas, or alpacas. Dogs ran among them, and in packs on the street. She'd seen cats, goats tied to nearly every house, horses, chickens, pigs, cows, bulls, even parrots on perches in walled gardens. Lizards climbed the stone walls as hawks winged overhead, and Chandre had seen what looked like a fox holding a rabbit in its mouth as they first descended into the valley of the town.
The animals seemed somehow quieter too, although they still made more sound than the humans...especially the dogs.
Otherwise, she heard surf pounding against the cliffs on the other side of the hill, like a background lull in that silence, a reminder of the dangers the elements posed so near. Something about the violence of the surf and wind in juxtaposition with the quietude of the village itself reminded Chandre of horror films she'd watched in the early part of the last century...ones with castles and villagers waving pitchforks at monsters.
Even back then, Chandre remembered feeling more like one of the monsters than one of the humans. The latter always struck her as overly violent and irrational, ready to burn the ugly thing alive, simply for the crime of its existence.
Sighing a little, she glanced at Stanley, one of the infiltrators working for Varlan.
Stanley didn't speak much compared to Rex, Varlan's other employee, but Chandre found him a pleasant-enough companion. Varlan himself generally kept his own counsel, but there was something more open about Stanley's silences, something that made it easier for Chandre to relax into them. Pretty much from the start, she found herself gravitating towards the dark-skinned seer, and telling him more than she told the other two.
At the thought, Dehgoies' caution rang softly in her ears.
Pushing it aside, she shook her long braids, shivering in the cold air.
"What do you think?" she asked him, after another moment of both of them staring through the organic gates. She watched the male seer as he scanned the perimeter, just as she had done, seconds before. After another pause, he clicked out, glancing at her.
"I don't know," he said simply.
Glancing back towards the town, he squinted against the polarized sun before doing another sweep of the cliffs with his eyes. His words seemed to mirror her thoughts.
"It's primitive, isn't it?"
"Human," Chandre agreed, nodding. "Mostly."
"Seems our friends like to be in control," Stanley added, giving her a wry smile.
Chandre smiled back. She'd been thinking along the same lines.
"They don't like visitors much, either," she commented, scanning the edge of the fence a second time. "...Boats, cars..."
"Or planes," Stanley confirmed. "Not even helicopters. Makes you wonder if they ever plan to have to leave in a hurry themselves...?"
Chandre nodded. Again, she'd been wondering along similar lines.
Generally speaking, seers didn't like to be cornered.
When they holed up somewhere, no matter how far out in the boondocks, they liked to have a way out...preferably one that could be accessed quickly. Airstrips were common. So were helipads. So far, Chandre hadn't seen evidence of, or even good locations for, either of those two things. The top of the roof appeared to be tile and hung at a slant...definitely not conducive to landing helicopters. Nor were the cliffs above the hacienda roof, or any of those rimming the edge of the seaside village. The few flat areas she'd seen on the way down weren't easily reached for the purposes of a quick escape. She'd been watching from the road and saw no evidence of an airstrip, either...or even any docks, as they rounded the cliffs in rented jeeps.
"Interesting," Stanley said again.
Chandre nodded. "Boat, maybe," she said finally.
"Must be," Stanley agreed. "I'm thinking there's a lot more under these cliffs than is readily apparent...possibly they keep them in there."
Chandre's eyes widened as she followed the prod of Stanley's light.
It hadn't occurred to her to look there, but now that she had, she understood exactly what Stanley meant. Not because she could see anything really, even with a heavy scan...more because the shielding below ground was even more intense than what wrapped around the parts of the structure visible to the naked eye. Further, it made logistical sense too. The seas were too rough down here for a proper harbor, not if one wanted to be discreet. The few inlets and small bays that offered enough shelter were also inaccessible from the hacienda itself.
"Underground channel to the sea," Chandre muttered. "No one would even know that they were gone. Not if they stayed below the surface..."
"And it makes them look confident," Stanley added, smiling faintly.
"Really confident," Chandre agreed. "That can't be an accident, either..."
Stanley gave her a questioning glance. Before he could ask the question aloud, a deeper, more melodious voice answered her from behind.
"Yes, sister," Varlan said, stepping up to join them. "I think you might be onto something there. An underground passage...I think perhaps a submari
ne, as you imply. Perhaps something quite exciting, yes? In terms of organics, I mean..."
Both Stanley and Chandre turned as Varlan moved into the empty space between where they stood by the gates. He walked close to silently, joining them from the general direction of the dirt patch where the jeeps sat parked. Giving Varlan an amused look, Chandre gave the area of the jeeps a second glance when she saw Rex talking to one of the human villagers.
She hadn't heard anyone approach, so she had to assume he'd used his light to 'convince' one of the nearer humans to join them.
"What's he doing?" she asked Varlan.
Varlan glanced back at the tall seer. "He appears to be interrogating one of the locals." He cocked an eyebrow humorously at Chandre's frown.
"Is that friendly?" she said.
"You do not approve, sister?"
Chandre shrugged, letting her gaze return to the house past the gate.
"Just seems pointless," she said. "These people don't seem the type to share their plans with worms...since they clearly aren't sharing much of anything else with them." She glanced up the hill with another shrug. "On the other hand, they do seem the type to take offense if we start screwing around with 'their' humans..."
When Stanley smiled, Varlan looked between them, then conceded the point with an eloquent gesture of one hand.
"Noted," he said. Glancing at Rex a second time, Varlan raised his voice to address the tow-headed seer.
"Ask him if he can call up to the house," he said.
"He can," Rex confirmed.
"Have him do it, then," Varlan said. "Tell him to request information as to whether we should wait here or obtain lodgings in the town. Tell him to apologize to our hosts for the presumption in our asking, and for using the only means at our disposal to do so...especially if our timing is in any way inconvenient..."
"Especially since they set the time," Chandre couldn't help muttering. "...And invited us here, only to lock us out...again."
Rex nodded to Varlan's words, his brown eyes shifting back to the human.
It seemed like another interminable amount of time while the villager wandered off, returning to one of the nearby stone buildings to use whatever communication method they had in town for delivering messages to their masters on the hill. Again, Chandre took in the quaint, aged quality to the white-washed walls and tile roofs, noting that wind and salt-seasoned air had taken their toll, pitting the walls and wooden beams and even the curved tiles of the roofs.
Push or no, Chandre couldn't help thinking the villager was taking his sweet, damned time.
She was about to make a comment to that effect to Stanley and Varlan, when a creaking sound emitted from the gates, near enough that she jumped about a foot. Staring as the spike-topped organic poles began to open inward, she glanced at Stanley only to see a similar look of surprise on his normally smooth face. Without thinking, Chandre began to walk forward, towards the opening.
Varlan grabbed hold of her bicep, halting her.
"Caution, sister Chandre," he murmured, nodding towards the opening. "Let's see if our hosts can't make the invitation a little more friendly, first..."
Puzzled, Chandre scanned the space in front of her more carefully. Once she had, she paled, feeling the coiling, snaking sparks of a live OBE field directly in front of where she'd been about to pass. Letting out a held breath, she sent a pulse of gratitude towards the older seer's light.
OBEs, or organic binary electrical fields, were something she seemed to be running into a little too often of late. The last one had been at that secret lab in Hayward, and she'd almost walked into a fully charged field then, too, thinking it was down after they'd detonated the explosive charges they left in the lab. That time, it had been Stanley who pulled her back, within a foot of her touching the edges of the field's range. Considering that a fully-charged OBE could pretty much kill on contact, her gratitude towards Varlan hadn't been mere politeness.
A few more seconds passed before she felt the shift in the Barrier.
"You need to learn to identify those more efficiently, sister," Varlan observed, his expression unmoving. "If we are going to be working together, perhaps you could ask one of my seers to give you a crash course...?"
Chandre nodded, feeling her jaw tighten in embarrassment.
Still, the seer was right. Twice was inexcusable. When she glanced at Stanley, he nodded his reply to her unspoken question. Seeing the faint worry creasing his forehead, she was surprised to note that her near-miss had alarmed him, as well.
Feeling a ping from Varlan's light, she focused her gaze back up the hill.
Someone was approaching.
The figure made its way down a path inside one of the gardens lining either side of the cobblestone driveway. It picked its way among the hardy plants and shrubs that dotted the edges of the stone tiles, as well as artistically-placed boulders that reminded Chandre of more elaborate Chinese gardens she'd seen in different parts of the world. She watched the man's progress in disbelief, sure at first her eyes were deceiving her.
But the image didn't change. He continued making his way towards them in jerking, nervous strides, oblivious to the impact his presence had on them. Chandre stared, unable to do anything but take in the face of the man squinting at them as he approached, his thinning hair blowing in the cold wind like wisps of dried grass.
It was Eddard.
Before she could emit the angry cry that started in her throat, the human raised a hand, smiling at them...as if they hadn't just spent the last few months scouring the Earth for him. As if he hadn't left them at that lab, after stealing the only samples of the deadly disease known to exist and possibly killing Maygar in the process.
Chandre saw his small hand wave in a friendly way, even as he stumbled somewhat on a large stone in the path. She noticed he was wearing what looked like an expensive, tailored suit, covered over in a wool coat. The coat alone looked to cost more than most seers made in several months' time, even those freelancing in Europe.
"Hello!" he called down. "They've asked me to greet you...and to express their apologies. You can come on through now...the protection field is disengaged..."
Chandre continued to stare, unable to keep the incredulousness out of her voice.
"We should shoot you," she said, when he'd come a dozen feet closer. "We should shoot you in the head right now...you traitorous piece of camel shit..."
Varlan held up a calming hand, stepping in front of her, but Chandre only angled her head sideways past his shoulder, so she could glare at the human again.
"Where is Maygar, human?" The last word came out sounding like a curse. "What have you done with our brother, you lying, unctuous little worm...?"
Her own anger surprised her, especially when she realized its source. But the human's pained look only worsened the flare of heat in her light, especially when he blinked as if she'd said something to wound him. When the slight-framed man reached the end of the steepest part of the slope, so that he was only a dozen yards from the opening in the organic fence, she found herself lashing at him again.
"You worked for them all along," she accused, once again ignoring Varlan's quieting hand. "You set up us, you..." She fumbled for an adequate insult. "You...race traitor!"
The human came to a stop, staring at Chandre like she'd hit him.
"Race traitor?" he said.
She emitted a low hiss. "You're going to tell me you aren't behind what is happening in San Francisco, cousin? That you haven't killed tens of thousands of your own people...what, so you can line your own coffin with money?"
The friendly sheen of Eddard's eyes wavered, replaced by something sharper, something that brought Chandre up short, stopping the words that had trembled, half-formed at her lips. Before she could fully recover from whatever she'd seen in that watery blue gaze, his expression smoothed, leaving only that same, gratingly appeasing smile above a weak chin. He glanced around at all four of them. His thin hair moved under the cold breeze, but wit
hout damaging the neat part on one side of his head.
"Why don't you come inside?" he said then.
Smiling politely at Varlan, he paused to include Stanley in his glance, then Rex as the more mountainous seer approached from behind.
"...You all look tired," he added. "And I'm certain that you're famished, after that long drive..." Giving Chandre a last glance, he let his eyes go nearly blank, inscrutable above that smile. "...I assure you, cousin Chandre...all will be explained. Perhaps even to your satisfaction..."
Feeling her mouth harden into a line, Chandre glanced at Varlan, who gave her another warning look. She saw some empathy in that stare, but zero compromise.
Again, Chandre grew aware that she might be on her own.
"Fine," she said, her voice cold. "I will follow you, worm. And perhaps you can use that forked tongue of yours to tell us another long tale..."
Pushing past where he stood, she began hiking up the steep, polished stone driveway, not giving him another glance as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. It wasn't until she'd been walking for a half-dozen yards that she realized Stanley had caught up to her, and paced her steps to the right of where she walked.
"I don't need a lecture, brother," she said.
"No lecture," Stanley assured her, his voice a murmur. "Just a caution...he may be less of a cousin than we previously thought..."
Chandre gave the African-looking seer a look, then glanced back at where Eddard walked alongside Varlan. The two adopted a more leisurely pace, and from the look of things, with Eddard's expansive gestures and moving lips, he appeared to be giving the aged seer the beginnings of a tour.
"Meaning what?" she said coldly.
"Meaning, when you called him a race traitor," Stanley said, softer still. "...He scanned you, sister. It was a light touch, but I felt it..."
Allie's War Season Three Page 20