You mean it helped?
“Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean.”
I’m not sure that the simulation helped me. I’m not sure that anything can.
“Why?”
I was dead, Mitsuru thought, briefly closing her red eyes. I don’t remember it, but I was dead, and now I’m not. I can’t seem to hold the idea in my mind.
“I think anyone would struggle with that. Did you ask Emily about it?”
Why would I ask Miss Muir?
“Ah, you know. She’s dead, too, I guess,” Alex said, frowning. “That’s what she says. I thought maybe she might have some advice or something, since you’re both going through…”
Emily died by her own hand, did she not?
“I’m not…she was drowned,” Alex said. “She – they put her in a hole, filled it with water, and then put a lid on the top so she couldn’t get out.”
It was her choice, though. The Anathema did not force her.
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “I don’t think she wanted to do that.”
You prefer to think that, Mitsuru thought, training her eyes on him with an intent expression. Do you feel responsible for her death?
“Doesn’t matter,” Alex said. “We aren’t here to talk about me. I’m good to go. The question is, how do we get you to the same place?”
You want me to kill people. That’s all anyone ever wants from me.
“I want you to feel better, because you saved me on one of the worst nights of my life,” Alex said. “You’ve always been good to me, Ms. Aoki.”
Have I?
“As long as we don’t count the Program,” Alex said, grinning. “You’ve been there for me in your own way. I’m just trying to return the favor.”
She sighed, and then stretched out, extending her arms and throwing her head back.
“I give up,” Mitsuru said, cracking her neck. “I’ll try and figure out how to get back to being alive on one condition.”
“Anything,” Alex said. “Well, I mean, obviously not anything,” he corrected hurriedly. “But, you know, almost.”
“Listening to you talk makes my head hurt,” Mitsuru grumbled, bending to touch her toes. “You and Becca both. I thought you LA types were supposed to talk like the people on TV.”
“The only time I remember being in LA in my life was a temporary custody transfer,” Alex said bashfully. “I think I needed a tetanus shot or something.”
“Right, of course.”
“What do you need from me, Ms. Aoki?”
“You’re an Auditor, aren’t you? Then you can call me Mitsuru,” she said. “I’ll go along with all this on one condition, Alex. You are forbidden from giving me any more pep talks.”
Alex looked momentarily stunned, then he laughed.
“Was it that bad?”
“It wasn’t good,” Mitsuru acknowledged, standing and then rolling up on to her toes. “I’ll give you credit for trying, though.”
“I’ll take it,” Alex said, checking his phone. “Emily says we’ve got about thirty minutes before we move out. You wanna do some yoga?”
“Only if you promise to stop acting like the grownup in this situation,” Mitsuru said. “It’s disconcerting.”
***
The technicians manning the fixed apport station at the Far Shores seemed entirely comfortable taking orders from Adel and started preparations for an apport to Processing on demand. Eerie followed reluctantly, wishing she had service on her phone, so she could at least text Alex.
She worried about leaving Alex on his own.
He made so many mistakes when she wasn’t there to look after him.
The apport platform was a gleaming metal disc. When Eerie stepped onto it, she felt the cold seep through her sneakers, numbing her feet. There was a long delay while the technicians worked, and then the apport occurred without warning. One moment they stood on the platform, Eerie standing safely out of reach while Adel shifted impatiently and checked his watch, and the next they were in an empty fixed apport station in the lobby of the Processing building downtown, only half the lights on and the air smelling strongly of ozone.
The apport was brutal. It left them on the floor, retching and disoriented.
Eerie recovered first, but suppressed her instinct to check on Adel, waiting instead until he recovered enough to stand.
“Come on,” Eerie said. “We have work to do.”
“Right, yes,” Adel said, putting a hand on the wall for stability. “We need to get the servers up.”
Eerie started down the hall toward the elevators.
“I know what I need,” Eerie said. “Why are you doing this?”
“Emily needs the Network up to apport safely. Shorter apports are okay on an emergency server, but moving to and from Central is way too risky,” Adel said, following her woozily. “I work for her.”
“Why?”
“She’s got some good ideas,” Adel said. “You should try talking to her about it.”
“I’ve heard a lot of Emily’s ideas,” Eerie replied, pushing the elevator call button. “I don’t always like them.”
“I never wanted to work for a cartel,” Adel said, walking into the elevator ahead of her. “I wanted to work for the Administration. You know that.”
“I remember,” Eerie said, taking up a position as far from Adel as the elevator would allow. “You wanted to be a sys admin.”
“My parents never would have let me,” Adel said moodily. “They told me last year. I might have been able to talk my dad into it, maybe, but my mother doesn’t change her mind. It was going to be the family cartel for me – and the pitiful little family network – and then maybe one day promotion up the ranks in the Hegemony, maybe even marry into the North Cartel. That’s what they had in mind for me.”
Eerie held the button for the bottom floor, where the servers that were the backbone of the Network lived, in an insulated and air-conditioned vault in the basement, as if she could make the elevator move faster by continued pressure.
“Emily offered you a way out,” Eerie said. “It was the same for my friend Vivik.”
“Vivik told me you were angry with him, too,” Adel said. “He’s a good guy, you know.”
“I thought so. Maybe he still is.”
“What about me?” Adel asked hopefully. “Do you think you could…?”
“Steve would have hurt me, if he could have,” Eerie said, looking at her feet. “You and I were supposed to be friends. I really thought so.”
Adel pulled at his sweat-damp hair and moaned.
“I know, and I’m so sorry,” Adel said. “I swear to God, if I could take it all back, I would.”
“I don’t understand,” Eerie said. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Nothing. You did nothing. It’s all my fault, Eerie.”
“Was being friends not enough?”
She gave him a questioning look as the elevator slowed.
“I wanted you to like me more than you did,” Adel said, his shoulders slumped. “That’s it, I guess.”
The door opened and Eerie fled the elevator.
Adel sighed, and did not bother to try and keep up.
***
Emily opened the sliding glass door and called to them. Alex was soaked with sweat, his legs trembling from exertion as he struggled to hold a seemingly endless tree pose. He broke the pose gratefully and hurried inside.
“We leave in ten minutes,” Emily said, pushing a towel into his chest. “Please be ready.”
He wiped himself off quickly, dropped the towel to the floor, and then took a seat on the couch, not far from where Katya sat, grimacing slightly and rubbing her neck.
“Hey,” he said, waving to get her attention. “You okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah,” Katya said. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. C’mon. What gives?”
“Nothing. I’m good,” Katya said dully. “Ready to go.”
“Give me a break,”
Alex said, grabbing Katya by the shoulder. “You sound like your dog just died. What’s going on?”
“I told you I’m fine,” Katya said, shrugging his hand off. “Nothing to worry about.”
“That just makes me worry more,” Alex persisted. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“It’s the aftereffects of her process,” Emily said, grinning mischievously. “The methods she’s been trained to use to become invisible to telepaths and precognitives are ego destroying. She’s suppressed her own existence. It’s not a thing to be done lightly, or without consequences.”
“Be quiet, Emily,” Katya said. “Mind your own business.”
“That’s horrible,” Alex said, aghast. “Is it really true?”
“Is what true?” Mitsuru entered the room running a towel over her hair. “Is something wrong with Katya?”
“All of you can fuck right off,” Katya said, sounding more tired than angry. “Discussion is closed.”
“But, Katya…” Alex reached for Katya. “I…”
Katya pushed his hand aside.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Move on.”
Alex glanced around for support, but Mitsuru had already lost interest, and Emily seemed amused by the entire thing.
“How do we get back?” Alex asked. “I thought we needed a fixed apport, or something.”
“We do,” Emily said, her attention on the phone she had gotten somewhere.
“There’s no big metal disc or anything here,” Alex said, gesturing at the track home. “How are we going to apport in just a few minutes?”
“The apport won’t happen for a bit, I’m afraid. There’s still a few things to arrange on that front. We need the Network online, and we need to borrow someone’s fixed apport station, since the local one appears to have been destroyed by Alistair.”
“You just said we were leaving in ten minutes!”
“Yes,” Emily said, her eyes flicking up briefly from her phone. “That’s when the car I called arrives.”
Sixteen
Day Three
A black SUV pulled up in front of the house, facets in the paint gleaming like Formica in the sun, making no sound aside from the tires crunching across the grit that had gathered in the gutter. Katya shuffled into the passenger seat without a word to anyone, and before Alex knew it, he was sitting between Emily and Mitsuru in the back.
There was just enough space that Alex could avoid his hip touching one of the women, but not the other. After a period of frantic shifting, he settled against Emily, doing his best to make as little contact as the bench seat allowed. Mitsuru ignored the whole thing, her chin resting on her hand as she stared disinterestedly out the window.
The driver confirmed their destination with Emily in a melodious Punjabi accent, and they were on their way. A subdivision gave way to a planned suburban grid, and then to freeway, all bordered by tan and brown wasteland, the backgrounds ruthlessly monotonous. Alex tried to look out the window in Emily’s direction, but there was nothing to see, and his gaze drifted naturally over to her. She grinned at him when she caught him staring, and he went back to looking straight ahead, watching the beads tied to the rearview mirror gently swing.
The traffic was already terrible, despite the hour.
They pulled on to the freeway, and within an exit or so, their progress was reduced to a crawl. The driver muttered to himself briefly, and then lapsed into stoic acceptance. The radio was on, the volume so low that Alex could only hear barely audible jingles and the muted crackle of static.
He lasted fifteen minutes before it got to him.
“Where are we going?” Alex turned to face Emily, and then turned away again hurriedly when he realized how close their faces were. “Somewhere in actual Las Vegas?”
“It could not be more Vegas,” Emily confirmed, still busy with her phone. “It’s a big hotel on the Strip. I think you’ll like it! It’s very fancy.”
“I feel underdressed,” Alex said, glancing at his grubby jeans and the T-shirt he’d been wearing since yesterday, still damp from yoga. “You could have told me we were going somewhere nice.”
“You’ve never dressed up in the entire time I’ve known you,” Emily said. “Did you bring a suit with you just in case, dear?”
“No, I just would have – I mean, I have nicer jeans. That’s all.”
Emily giggled. Alex held out for another couple of minutes of relative silence. He thought they had advanced about two exits in the gridlock, but the scenery was so dismally unchanging that it was hard to be sure.
Emily put the phone in her lap and stretched her hands. Alex took the opportunity to try and sneak a glance at the display.
“Nosey boy,” Emily said, poking him in the side. “Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not that,” Alex protested. “I’m just bored.”
“You really don’t trust me!” Emily laughed. “I don’t mind telling you what I’m doing, but you have to at least do me the courtesy of asking.”
“Fine,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I was texting Vivik,” Emily said. “The timing for this next part is going to be very tricky, so I needed to check on how everyone else is doing.”
Mitsuru stirred.
“Who are you spying on?” Mitsuru demanded. “What are you getting us into, Emily?”
“There are so many pieces on the board that, without Vivik’s help, it would be impossible to keep track of them all. As for what I’m getting you into, we will return to Central, hopefully in time to keep the Thule Cartel from slaughtering everyone. We just have one teensy little stop to make on the way, and then…”
“A stop?” Alex gave Emily a puzzled look. “You mean this hotel, or whatever?”
“We are going to the hotel to arrange the apport,” Emily explained patiently. “We’ve no other choice than to ask a favor from an old friend.”
“What old friend?”
“You’ll see.”
Alex wanted to tear his hair out.
“Which hotel is it?” Alex asked.
“The Golden Flower,” Emily said.
Katya turned around, looking at Emily over the back of her seat.
“Anastasia keeps a suite there,” Katya said. “Don’t try to tell me that’s a coincidence.”
“It’s not a coincidence,” Emily agreed happily. “That’s exactly why we are going there, at this very moment.”
“It is?” Katya looked confused. “What are you up to, Emily?”
“I’m performing another of my unrecognized virtuous deeds,” Emily explained. “Anastasia is staying in the penthouse, according to Vivik, passing the time while a temporary apport station is assembled. This offers a perfect opportunity to reunite you with your beloved Mistress, Katya, and to deliver the news of Gaul Thule’s death! Don’t you think Anastasia will be thrilled?”
Katya frowned, and looked as if she wanted to say something. Then she shut her mouth abruptly and turned back toward the windshield.
“I’ve done you any number of favors lately, haven’t I, Katya?” Emily picked up her phone again. “The least you could do in return is answer my question.”
“You don’t say,” Katya said dully. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know if you plan to marry Anastasia! It almost seems rude not to, if you ask me, after she put herself on the line in such a dramatic fashion. I’d imagine that being rejected after a public offer like that would be devastating for any girl,” Emily said, winking at Alex. “Anastasia might never recover.”
Katya did not respond. Alex blushed fiercely and stared into his lap, his fingers in knots.
“Would you both wear dresses?” Emily asked, her eyes shining with delight. “You’re very feminine, Katya, but I do think you could pull off a suit if you wanted to. Oh! Do you think Anastasia would wear white or red?”
Katya said nothing, but Alex could see the tension in her posture.
; “She seems rather delicate and childish, but then again, some people prefer that sort of thing,” Emily said, with a pointed glance at Alex. “She does seem rather easy to break, with that tiny body. I’d imagine you’d have to be very gentle on your wedding night.”
“Emily, stop it,” Alex said. “That’s enough.”
“Did I say something bad?” Emily smiled at him. “I’m just speculating. Thinking out loud. A bad habit, I know, but the process of becoming Anathema is very solitary. You spend quite a while in a flooded hole, alone in the dark, while every cell in your body is deconstructed and replaced.”
“I get it, just go easy on Katya,” Alex pleaded. “Please?”
“Do you think I’m picking on her? I’m just asking questions!” Emily turned her attention on Alex. “What do you think, then? Should Katya cash in on the opportunity of a lifetime and marry a princess?”
Alex muttered beneath his breath.
“What was that, dear? Are you jealous?” Emily prodded him in his side. “Do you wish you had chosen a richer and more socially acceptable girl?”
“No! No, I…that is to say, I don’t think that’s fair to…”
“You’re a fine one to talk about being fair,” Emily said. “What would you do if you were in Katya’s shoes? Given the chance, would you marry Anastasia Martynova?”
“Cut it out, Emily!”
“I know all too well how easily your affections go wandering,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t put it past you. But maybe Anastasia isn’t your type? What is it that you don’t like? Just not into goths? Or are you bothered by women who have goals in life other than being with you?”
Alex felt a hot rush of emotion in his chest.
Katya reached over and tugged on the driver’s sleeve.
“Could you pull over, please? Anywhere on the shoulder will do,” Katya said. “I won’t be long. I just need to murder the blonde in the back.”
The driver did not react, his full attention on the traffic.
“I mean it, asshole,” Katya snarled. “Pull over now.”
“You’re so overdramatic, Katya,” Emily chided. “The poor man can’t hear you or notice anything you do. A very small Isolation Field seemed like a prudent safeguard.”
The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 39