The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

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The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 89

by Zachary Rawlins


  You got it. Shall I come and collect her?

  Two minutes, Mitsuru said, eyeing Talia. I want a word.

  “Okay, Maxim, good work,” Mitsuru said, holstering her pistol, but keeping her knife handy. “Secure the area.”

  “Yes, Ms. Aoki,” Maxim said, stepping back. “You want a perimeter?”

  “We won’t be staying that long. Get the others down from there,” Mitsuru said, pointing at the top of the container stack. “Search the area. I want any survivors taken prisoner. Don’t worry about us – I’m certain Talia knows better than to test me.”

  Maxim nodded and trotted off. Mitsuru was privately thrilled with her collection of new Auditors – Collette, Ksenia, Brandon, and Maxim were all fully trained and field-tested, unlike the last bunch, which meant that little training was needed to make them Auditors, and questions of obedience never arose.

  “I remember you,” Mitsuru said. “You used to work for Alistair.”

  “I watched you die,” Talia said. “That was a good day.”

  “Our reports suggest that most of the Anathema were killed by Leigh Feld, and whatever remained died when John Parson was destroyed. And yet here you are.”

  “Here I am,” Talia agreed. “What luck.”

  “How?”

  “I never went through with it,” Talia said, shrugging. “I was just a hired gun for the Anathema.”

  “That’s not what Analytics believes,” Mitsuru said. “They think you worked directly for Alistair.”

  Talia just smiled.

  “We know that John Parson had a personal supply of nanites, secured during the Anathema invasion.” Mitsuru watched the technician closely. “Any idea what happened to that?”

  “I wondered why you would take such obvious bait,” Talia said. “You need a source of nanites, don’t you?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Mitsuru said. “Good. Your interrogation won’t be a total waste.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m running three different analytical routines. Your body temperature and heart rate gave you away.”

  Talia laughed.

  “One more question,” Mitsuru said, taking Talia’s tablet and tossing it to the ground. “Where is Alistair?”

  “He’s dead,” Talia said, smirking as Mitsuru put zip-ties around her wrists. “Don’t you even know that much?”

  There was a cry from the other side of the wall of containers, and then a massive rumble, like the first tremors of an earthquake, as Ksenia’s protocol activated.

  Report, Mitsuru demanded. What is happening?

  There were gunshots – seven in total, from three different firearms, according to Mitsuru’s protocol – and then a blinding flash of light – multiple magnesium flares – and then a horrible wail that went straight to the back of her eyes and the roots of her teeth. Mitsuru grimaced and covered her ears while her protocol searched frantically for the source. The Auditors implanted psychic defenses were tested, simultaneously under siege from what felt like an army of telepaths.

  Even in the depths of her distress, Mitsuru felt that the intrusion was somehow familiar.

  An early warning system pinged.

  Mitsuru lunged at Talia with her knife. The technician slipped the blade, coming away with nothing more than a shallow cut across her left bicep.

  She was gone before Mitsuru could attempt a second thrust.

  The noise and the confusion died with her disappearance.

  Report, Mitsuru thought. What just happened?

  I’m not sure, Ms. Aoki, Ksenia thought. We were attacked, or…at least, I think we were attacked.

  I think so, too, Collette thought, coming around from the other side of the containers. I don’t see anything now.

  We were set up, Mitsuru thought. Tell me we at least have a survivor or two for Central?

  A Weir and one guard are still breathing, Brandon thought. I’ve instructed Central to prepare medics and restraints.

  Let’s wrap this up. Mitsuru glanced around the ruined section of the port, only a remotely applied Isolation Protocol holding back the emergency services and security teams who dozed at the perimeter, unsure why they were ordered to wait. I want to get out of here before there are any more surprises.

  Chike appeared a moment later, along with a couple of attendants lugging stretchers.

  Mitsuru watched them remove the prisoners with a frown. Maxim glanced at her.

  “Something is bothering you.”

  Mitsuru considered ignoring Maxim but decided that would be unprofessional. She needed to set a good example for her junior.

  “This was not our most successful Operation.”

  “We took prisoners, with no losses of our own,” Maxim said. “Is that not success?”

  “I don’t know,” Mitsuru said, mostly talking to herself. “There was something, at the end, that was…”

  “What? What was it?”

  Familiar, she almost said.

  There had been a very familiar feel to the telepathic intrusion, something almost intimate.

  “Nothing. Get ready for apport,” Mitsuru said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  The introduction of this year’s club officers was followed with the induction of new members, requiring almost the entire time allotted for the lunch meeting, which was fine with Eerie. She paid little attention to anything that was said, and no one asked her to say anything other than joining the chorus of assent at each prospective member’s nomination. She noticed people sneaking looks at her, of course, and heard occasional whispers, but she was accustomed to stares and gossip.

  It still bothered Eerie, of course, but she was used to it.

  Fortunately, there was plenty to distract the curious. The Mistress of the Black Sun was in attendance, surrounded by retainers and new pledges, while the wife of the Chief Administrator, Sofia Morales-North, sat on the other side of the room with her daughter and the children of their allied cartels. It was the first time the two had been seen together publicly since their standings had changed, and speculation as to the tenor of the encounter was rampant.

  Nothing happened aside from a polite greeting when Sofia and Madison first arrived, but that did little to dampen the enthusiasm of the members.

  The lunch was pasta and salad, but someone was thoughtful enough to provide Eerie with a bowl of sweets. The Changeling ate a strawberry candy out of politeness, and then snuck a few of the lollipops into her pocket for later.

  The meeting was adjourned without bringing her any special notice.

  Eerie almost made it to the door before she was intercepted.

  Mai Quan, personal attendant to Lady Martynova, blocked her way, towering over Eerie in her modest black dress and practical shoes.

  “If you would come with me,” the maid said. “Your presence is requested.”

  The maid led her into a back room, as Eerie expected.

  Anastasia waited at a table that was empty save for her teacup. She wore a frilly dress that was black in some lights, while in others it was nearly the same deep blue as Eerie’s hair. Her earrings and broad necklace were gold and antique jade.

  Her hair was straight and longer than Eerie remembered. Her makeup was perfect.

  Renton stood behind the Mistress of the Black Sun in one corner, smirking at Eerie, while Mai took her position in the opposite.

  Anastasia gestured for Eerie to take the chair across the table, but she did not smile.

  Eerie took a seat and waited, twisting her fingers in her lap.

  “It has been some time, Ériu,” Anastasia said. “I trust that you are well?”

  “Eerie is fine, please. I’m sorry I only came to…I’m sorry I missed the other funerals.”

  “I did not expect that you would come,” Anastasia said. “Nothing is as of yet expected of you in that regard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean only that you are presently…involved, shall we say,
with a member of the Black Sun,” Anastasia said, the corner of her lip twisting in a way that Eerie suspected was a suppressed smirk. “The current Lord Rostov, as a matter of fact.”

  “Emily already told me that Alex didn’t agree to any of that stuff,” Eerie said. “Whether he wants to be Lord Whatever or not is for him to decide, when he wakes up.”

  “The Lordship was mine to do with as I chose, and I have bestowed it upon Alexander Warner nee Rostov. A quorum of the Great Families has endorsed the grant, and it has been recorded in the official rolls of the Assembly. He is free to respond to the situation however he might wish, of course, but he is Lord Rostov whether he wishes to be or not.”

  “I don’t agree,” Eerie hummed. “Alex is Alex. He’s not some guy in a castle or something. He’s not beautiful or complicated, like you. That’s not him.”

  Anastasia inspected her coolly. Eerie clenched her trembling hands around the handle of her knitting basket.

  “You have changed,” Anastasia said. “You did not used to be so certain of yourself.”

  “You changed, too,” Eerie said, lowering her voice. “There isn’t much left of what I used to be able to do, but I can see that much. There’s a little piece of the Outer Dark inside of you. You know that, right? You must know. It talks to you when you sleep.”

  Anastasia sipped her tea, her face an exquisite mask.

  “You are very strong,” Eerie said. “That won’t stop it from eating you.”

  “Won’t it?”

  “It will just take longer.”

  “I see. It is for the best, then, that no such situation exists.”

  Anastasia caught Eerie’s eyes for just a moment, before the Changeling cast them into her lap.

  “I really hope you feel better,” Eerie said. “But I can’t help you.”

  “No? Not even if I could offer a reward?”

  “Nuh uh.” Eerie shook her head. “It’s impossible for me.”

  “I had thought that the impossible was your stock-in-trade.”

  “Not anymore. I’m all used up.”

  “You do not look reduced in any way to me,” Anastasia said. “I suppose that I must take your word on it.”

  Eerie stood up from the table.

  “I have to go,” the Changeling said. “I have a lot to do today.”

  “As do I, I suppose,” Anastasia said, finishing her tea. “I look forward to Alex introducing you formally to society. Have no anxieties as to my approval – I fully intend to negotiate your ascent to a name and title, just as soon as the two of you are ready for marriage. I might even offer my blessing to my cousin and his bride at the ceremony.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  “You’ll be rich and important.”

  “I don’t want to be those things, either.”

  “You must want something, Ériu.”

  “I just want Alex, and everyone to leave us alone.”

  “We do not always get our way,” Anastasia said. “That is the inherent tragedy of the world.”

  “I don’t really get it.”

  “I doubt that,” Anastasia said. “I suppose that I will see you tonight?”

  “I know I should go, but I don’t really want to.”

  “It is a great deal less appealing without a date, is it not?”

  “You could have a date, if you wanted. You could have a lot of dates.”

  “My station curtails me in that regard. Propriety and other such nonsense.”

  “You could if you wanted to,” Eerie insisted. “You are a queen, or something. You have Renton, if you want him, or that one boy with the amazing cheekbones…”

  “Now you have my attention,” Anastasia said, leaning forward. “Whom do you mean?”

  “You know. The scary one who turns invisible.”

  “Ah. The young Lord Gao.”

  “If you say so. I’ve heard rumors. Do you like him?”

  “I do not dislike his company.”

  “So, you do?”

  “That remains to be seen. How is Alex?”

  “Oh, you know,” Eerie said. “The usual.”

  ***

  “I’m surprised that you don’t need to be in Central,” Leigh said. “All the other players will be.”

  “I don’t have the status or the talent to justify attending the Sewing Circle,” Emily said, blowing on a fork full of poached egg and avocado. “That’s for Great Ladies and dedicated crafters, and I am neither.”

  “Yeah, but you are in charge of the Far Shores, aren’t you? I figured that would be enough. Maybe you could do a sampler or something and win them over.” Leigh helped herself to another piece of toast. “What do I know? I just beat people up.”

  “You do more than that,” Emily said. “Give yourself a bit more credit.”

  Leigh shrugged and chewed.

  “Do you know where Vivik is, dear?”

  “No,” Leigh said. “Why would I?”

  “I just thought you might know,” Emily said, giggling. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I haven’t seen him in a week,” Leigh said irritably. “If you call, I’m sure he’ll come running.”

  “Don’t get upset. I was just teasing.”

  “Tease someone else. Do I have work today?”

  “Nothing for a few hours,” Emily said. “I have something very interesting planned for the afternoon for you.”

  “I’m going to get in a nap, then. What about you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m expecting company,” Emily said. “A gentleman caller.”

  ***

  The disorganization of the Audits building as a whole was legendary, but the messy, paper-strewn heart of it all was the wing inhabited by the Chief Auditor, who lurked in the first office in the hallway like a troll beneath a bridge composed of takeout containers and neglected paperwork, waiting to ambush the first unwary Auditor or administrative staff that wandered by with errands and baroque coffee orders.

  Mitsuru knocked as she entered the Chief Auditor’s office, wrinkling her nose at the disarray and the empty soda cans stacked beside the overflowing trashcan.

  “Hi, Mitzi,” Rebecca said, from the floor behind the desk. “Come in and sit down. I was just taking a power nap. I found a book on management in Gaul’s old office, and I was trying out some of the suggestions.”

  “I see,” Mitsuru said diplomatically, clearing a stack of untouched field reports from a chair and taking a seat. “How is that working out?”

  “I’ve had mixed results,” Rebecca said, climbing into her chair. “Naps make me groggy, and putting butter in your coffee is gross, particularly yak butter. Even if it is organic.”

  “Yak butter?”

  “It’s expensive as hell,” Rebecca groused. “North keeps bitching about that.”

  “Where do you even get yak butter?”

  “The internet. Where else? I’m more enthusiastic about the guided meditation.”

  “You are meditating?” Mitsuru tried unsuccessfully to keep the suspicion out of her voice. “How is that going?”

  “Great! I put on my headphones and start the recording, and then I fall asleep like that,” Rebecca said, snapping her fingers. “Total relaxation.”

  “I’m not sure anyone has attained enlightenment in their sleep, Becca.”

  “I’m not going for enlightenment, I want efficiency and, uh, what was it?” Rebecca flipped through a book on her desk that bristled with a multihued forest of Post-It notes. “Aha! ‘Neural plasticity’. That’s it! I’m going to be like one of those tech assholes, sleeping two hours a night and making my neurons more, uh, plastic.”

  “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

  “I don’t know. I’m an executive and I’m wearing jeans at the office, so I must be doing something right. I don’t think I’ve really figured out the microdosing thing, yet, but it’s only been two days.”

  “Becca!”

  “What?”

  “Microdosing?”
Mitsuru put her hand to her forehead. “You mean that you’re taking drugs?”

  “What else does one microdose?”

  “I’d prefer just about anything.”

  “Too bad.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what sort of drugs?”

  “Acid. LSD.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry! The dosages are tiny. I barely hallucinate at all.”

  “I don’t even know what to say,” Mitsuru said. “Where are you getting these drugs?”

  “The same place I get my weed,” Rebecca explained. “I confiscated it from students at the Academy.”

  “You are a terrible example,” Mitsuru scolded. “Why does Michael even let you be alone with the students?”

  “He trusts me,” Rebeca said. “You should do the same. How’d it go today?”

  “You saw the report.”

  “I didn’t actually. Tearing up little pieces of blotter paper evenly is tricky. I might have gotten the dose wrong this morning. It’s a little hard to read right now. The letters keep moving around the page.”

  “Oh, Becca,” Mitsuru said. “You are a disgrace.”

  “Lucky for me, the bar for measuring a decent Chief Auditor is pretty low. Any luck with the raid in Guangzhou?”

  “It was a setup.” Mitsuru gave her a quick rundown, and then a more complete version, once Rebecca got interested. “There was nothing in the container, except for the explosives they used to try and blow us up. That intel on it being a stash for the Anathema was certainly nonsense.”

  “That’s a lot of risk and loss for an ineffective trap,” Rebecca said. “Who would do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Mitsuru admitted. “It’s the third rogue Operation we’ve turned up in two months, and we still have no idea who it is we are dealing with.”

  “I have an idea.”

  “You think it’s Alistair,” Mitsuru said. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m tripping, not crazy,” Rebecca said. “Leaving aside the mystery of ‘who’, any progress on the ‘why’?”

  “I don’t know,” Mitsuru admitted. “To watch our new personnel work in the field? Or maybe they want to draw us out in the open, away from Central…”

  “They don’t need to try that hard. We are easy to find.”

 

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