by John Corwin
"You mean they pulled someone's ghost out of the afterlife?"
"In a manner of speaking, child. Next we will find out exactly who now presides in that body and question them rigorously about the afterlife." He rubbed his hands together like a child about to dig into birthday cake and presents. "This is electrifying. I haven't felt such a thrill of discovery since the first time I entered someone else's mind."
Tollee's stomach lurched. "We're gonna capture one of those crazies?"
"Naturally."
"I hope you're not considering me for the job. I barely got away from that animal the last time." She dropped to her knees in front of Martin. "That thing Blight hopped, sir. Just like Lucas Fowler did. And it seemed almost as strong and fast as him."
"Not to worry, dear. You are younger and faster and will lead one of those creatures straight into my trap."
Tollee stood up and tossed her arms in the air. "They're insane, Arbiter. Completely bonkers. How do you think you'll control them?"
"We need only one. Given their propensity for murder and mayhem, we should find one in short order."
"And you'll link with it and control it?"
Martin raised an eyebrow. "Absolutely not. Judging from their sickly glow, it appears they may be corrupted in some fashion and I'll not risk my mind. Then again, these poor souls might not be insane at all, merely shocked to be torn from the afterlife and placed back inside a corporeal body."
"Being shocked is one thing. Tearing people to shreds is insane."
"Can you imagine how upset you'd be if someone pulled you from paradise?"
Paradise? That was a load of crap. "If anything, these souls, spirits, or whatever came straight from hell."
Martin's eyes brightened and he pointed a finger in the air. "I have it. Instead of trapping one who's already out and about, I shall watch a transformation firsthand."
"You want Lucas to do another?"
"Precisely. I've fine-tuned my control of him so I can conserve energy. Once you locate the mark, we'll lure the him and our tool to a prepared location then sit back and watch."
"A cage?"
"Something of that nature, yes."
"I hope it's a strong one."
Martin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply from his pipe. He did that more frequently lately, and Tollee wondered if it was his way of recharging. His eyes snapped open.
"You're still here? Go find another mark, daughter."
Tollee shuddered. Martin was not her father despite raising her since she was young. It felt creepy to even think of him like that. "Why don't you attach yourself to the mark and control him? You could make him go anywhere."
"Too dangerous. If he revives and is indeed insane, any feedback from our connection might adversely affect me."
"Can't you disconnect?"
"I've told you before that an attachment is permanent and lifelong."
Tollee switched her thoughts to something safe before the last word in Martin's statement triggered another question. She slipped into the Blight and left his estate before allowing herself to ask that dangerous question. Would Martin's death free her? Would it free Lucas? This latest stunt of Martin's went too far. Actually, they'd all gone too far, but she'd already decided before this to leave him. But if she left him, would she be free?
First things first. She didn't know any other Scions besides Martin and Lucas. She needed to find normal, sane Scions first. She kept Blight hopping, not caring where she was going until she found herself in a familiar place. The red-brick building from which she'd scoped out the second victim, Maria Wood, lay ahead. She hopped to the roof. An overturned bucket sat near the ledge. She sat on it and stared into the distance. She needed someone to talk to and vent with. If only she knew another Scion.
Then again, she was a seeker. She was made to find others like her. Unfortunately, she couldn't activate latent Scions without the help of an arbiter. An hour or so passed. Tollee did nothing. She didn't want to find another mark. The second she did, Martin would put things into motion.
The trap door in the roof popped open. The chum with the wine poked his head through. He smiled. "Thought I'd never see you again."
Tollee managed to smile, barely. She resisted the urge to peek at him through the Blight again, knowing it would only disgust her.
He walked over and offered her a wine glass. She forced herself to take it.
"Tollee, right?"
"Yes. I'm sorry I don't—"
"Jason."
"That's right."
He poured his glass half full and hers a quarter. "How are your allergies today?"
"Acting up. Sorry in advance if I puke."
"Do I have a nasty pimple I don't know about? Or really bad body odor?"
She laughed. "No."
"Every time I get near you, your body stiffens and you turn white."
"Sorry, it's—"
"Allergies. Yeah, I know. Must be allergic to me then."
Tollee examined the wineglass for fingerprints and saw none. She tossed down the contents in one swallow. Jason held out the bottle.
"More?"
She nodded. As he poured, recent events flashed through her mind. Lucas killing. Insane undead people chasing her. Arbiter Martin controlling her. Tollee had no friends, no family, and now, no future. Just a wine-obsessed chum who liked to sit on the roof of a dilapidated building. She burst into tears.
"You okay?" Jason asked.
Tollee shook her head as the sobs shook her and tears blinded her. Something warm enclosed her, made her feel safe. It was something she hadn't felt for ages. A hug. She expected revulsion to overwhelm her. It didn't. But the old feelings soon reasserted themselves. After a moment, she pulled away and stood up, brushing the tears from her eyes. Shame filled her for allowing this to happen. She might as well hug a slimy fish. At least in Normal they felt and resembled Scions.
Why did they have to look so real? Sound so real? Feel so real? They were perfect mimics but the Blight ripped away the mask. She couldn't make herself look at Jason through the Blight. She didn't want to see him with his humanity removed.
"Do you need a place to stay?" he asked. "If you're in trouble, maybe I can help."
"It's not that simple."
He snorted. "Things never are."
Tollee sensed a vacuum where Martin's probe usually settled into her. He must be very busy preparing a prison for the next mark. Instead of chatting with chum, she should use this free time to seek out the factions. She picked up her wine glass and held it up for a refill. Not as effective as vodka, but it'd do the trick. Jason filled it halfway. Tollee tossed it back again.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "You trying to get wasted or something?"
"Alcohol doesn't have that effect on me."
"Yeah, right."
"How much you got?"
"Two bottles." He pulled out the one they'd been drinking from.
Tollee took it and chugged it down. She sighed and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. What was she doing? This was stupid. Crazy, even. Aside from getting an overload of nervous energy, she'd just guzzled from a bottle that a chum had handled.
Jason stared at her, probably waiting for her to turn green and pass out. When that didn't happen, he smiled. "Guess you can handle your alcohol. I have something stronger, but it might get you really wired."
"Liquor?"
He shook his head and pulled out a plastic bag with tiny black pills. A white "x" labeled each one. "Ever done meth?"
"No." She'd never done drugs at all. She took a pill and popped it before she had a second thought. Screw Martin. Screw his plans. Screw the world.
"Maybe you shouldn't have taken it after all that wine," Jason said, his eyes worried.
"How long does it take?"
"Not long."
Tollee walked around the roof for several minutes. She didn't feel any different. "What's it supposed to do?"
"It amps me up. Gets me crazy. I usually wait until I'm at t
he club before I pop one though."
She shivered. A club of nasty chum. Bumping. Grinding. Bathing each other in their slime. Scions needed clubs. A roomful of healthy young Scions would be awesome. "I don't think this pill is doing anything."
"Careful," Jason said, reaching for her.
"What?" She figured out a second too late why he was reaching for her as she performed a spectacular face-plant on the roof.
Chapter 19
Grand Arbiter Andre Feno watched his counterpart arrive at the neutral meeting site in western North Dakota. The abandoned farm was still in good shape despite the harsh winters and winds that swept the rolling hills and plains. They usually didn't meet like this. Not physically. Normally a direct probe link was sufficient, but with the catastrophe brewing in Atlanta.
Grand Arbiter Mikhail Sokolov's men had arrived at nearly the same time as Andre's, patrolling, inspecting, assuming lookout positions. The Statists posed no danger to Andre. Likewise, Mikhail had nothing to fear from the Transcendists. The truce had held remarkably well since the late 1800's. Unfortunately, modern technology made it much harder to conceal their existence from hostile groups and governments.
Attempts on both leaders had been made. All had failed and the chum dealt with. Chum had no protection from seekers hiding in the Blight or arbiters keeping a mental watch. Some regimes had needed warnings. Others required lessons, but only by unanimous vote of the council.
All the same, Andre felt intimidated by the rail-thin Russian. Mikhail could pass for a middle-aged drug addict. His ice-gray bloodshot eyes often bore dark lines under them. His pallor added to the myth that he was a weakly man. Anyone who'd met him, however, would know better. Andre felt himself to be the physical opposite: a bit fleshy with the ruddy glow of health.
Andre stowed his carefully shielded thoughts and took solace that his seeker was keeping an eye on Mikhail through the Blight. Any sign of an unauthorized probe coming from him would be visible in the Blight.
Mikhail took a seat on the wooden bench across the picnic table from Andre. A weathered maple tree provided shade from the glaring sun. "Ad infinitum, Grand Arbiter Andre."
"Ad infinitum, Grand Arbiter Mikhail. I suspect you already know the reason for this meeting."
"I have some idea but I let you tell reason." Mikhail's Russian accent was thick as ever.
"Someone has been stoning newly activated Scions in Atlanta. We believe a rogue executor is responsible, possibly one whose arbiter has passed on."
"No executors use stones now. It is forbidden."
"I know. It pains me to ask you this, friend, but I must. Have any Statist executors committed unsanctioned stonings?"
"Absolutely not. We honor Covenant. Same, I hope, as you. No executions without sanction."
"Again, I apologize, but it had to be asked," Andre said. He retrieved a packet and handed it to Mikhail. "Enclosed you'll find photographs of the victims. None were Transcendists. According to background information, we don't believe any of the victims were initiated or members of any faction."
"No victims knew their true nature?"
"Doubtful. Whether they were attuned by an arbiter before their deaths is unknown."
"I send these out to my people for confirmation." Mikhail motioned one of his men over and spoke into his ear.
Andre nodded, studying his counterpart's face for any hints. So far, Mikhail seemed to be telling the truth, but he was hiding something. In all likelihood, Mikhail already knew the information Andre was sharing. The Statists had an intelligence network that rivaled his own, possibly bending Covenant law in places.
Mikhail's man walked away with the pictures and Mikhail turned back to Andre. "What about bodies?"
Andre picked up on a slight twitch in Mikhail's eye. Annoyance? Had his people also failed to procure one of the victim's bodies? He needed full disclosure before he went farther. He'd already been more than fair, sharing so much without a dint of cooperation. Asking would be futile. Mikhail and his group were notoriously close-lipped about their operations.
"I'm afraid we don't have any bodies." Andre flared his nostrils just a touch and looked away. "Well, now that you know what I know, we can keep a close eye on further developments. I hope this rogue doesn't decide to prey on our people." He stood and edged out from the bench.
Mikhail's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed a fraction. "That is it? All you have?"
"Yes. Pity I don't have more to share."
"I may have something."
"Oh?" Andre stopped but didn't retake his seat.
"All bodies are gone. We have heard rumors that the rogue takes them and kills anyone in his way."
Andre sat back down. Good. The Statists were still in the dark as he'd suspected. "Have you discerned a possible reason for this?"
"No reason. This rogue is obviously violent and insane."
"We've already contacted all independent executors and accounted for them. I assume your people keep tabs on them as well."
Mikhail nodded. "Of course. All independents are registered."
"On the surface, it appears none of the independent executors in our records are capable of such crimes. On the other hand, an arbiter is required to attune, attach and initiate an executor. If we have an unregistered executor on our hands that would mean an independent arbiter has broken the Covenant."
Mikhail shook his head. "I find that unlikely. Covenant is imprinted on the mind at young age. To break it would cause great pain, especially to arbiters."
"True, but who else could it be?" Andre pursed his lips. "Think of it this way. A seeker is required to find latent Scions, an arbiter to attune and initiate them, and an executor to kill them using stones. Since we don't know if the victims were attuned, we have a minimum of two rogues: a seeker and an executor. I will ask the independent arbiters to undergo a truthing session. Those who have nothing to hide will submit and it will be elementary to detect a rogue among them."
Mikhail grunted. "Many independents will refuse."
"Then I'll invoke the Grand Inquiry."
"You will need full council approval."
"With your support that won't be an issue."
"If you want my support," Mikhail said as he swatted an ant that had climbed onto the table, "I want my people involved at all levels of truthing sessions and full disclosure of all information you have."
Andre had known it would come to this. Mikhail wanted people inside. That would be dangerous. But it could also work to Andre's advantage. Neither side had bothered with moles for ages simply because it was impossible to hide true intent from skilled arbiters. Eventually, any spy would be exposed.
"I suggest we agree upon a proper location and conduct the sessions there. Each faction will have an equal number of members in the investigative team. Both factions must fully disclose everything."
Mikhail nodded. "A special task force of best seekers should travel to Atlanta and begin search for killer."
"I agree. Anything else?"
"This is good start."
Andre held his right hand out, palm facing Mikhail. Mikhail returned the gesture and they touched the tips of the fingers. Andre sent probes to his arbiters, connecting as his counterpart did the same to his. Then he and Mikhail formed the final connection so all faction arbiters could participate. The details of the agreement went out. Several arbiters from each side voiced concern, but none serious enough to warrant physically convening the council. The vote returned unanimous. Everything happened at the speed of thought. In the real world, less than a minute.
After they disconnected, Andre decided to disclose a bombshell. He'd mulled it over and decided Mikhail would inevitably discover the information. Now was the time to establish trust. That would make it easier for Andre to control the flow of information going forward.
"There is another theory about the vanishing bodies."
"Someone other than the rogue has taken them?"
"Eyewitness accounts claim the victims c
ame back from the dead."
Mikhail sighed. "I hope you joke. Nobody could take this for truth."
Andre pulled a portable video player from his pocket, started the video, and passed it to Mikhail. After viewing it in its entirety, Mikhail placed the viewer on the table and shook his head.
"Video tricks. Any prankster could do this with proper software."
"You can have the video analyzed for tampering. I give you my assurances it is authentic."
"So what now? We chase zombies?"
"No, we keep our minds open. Remember the Cross incident."
"That was different. The Covenant was new. Very few Scions had initiation imprints. Easy for a Scion to go rogue."
"True, but we shouldn't dismiss anything out of hand."
Mikhail crossed his arms. "Now you wish to bring up fairy tales. Cross killed Scions. He was imprisoned for life. End of story."
"You and I both know he wasn't imprisoned for life. They executed him. Some say his body was stolen. Others claimed he came back from the dead even more insane and was kept in an isolated prison until his death."
"You are partly right. He was imprisoned for life after failed execution."
"Nobody survives the stones."
Mikhail put up a hand. "I will hear no more of this fantasy." He stood up and stepped away from the table, gazed out at a field overgrown with dry weeds. "I assume the perpetrators will be executed."
"Of course. There are far too few of us Scions in the world already. We must set an example."
"Good." Mikhail turned back, his gray eyes and solemn expression giving no hints. "You see I was right."
"Oh, about what?"
"Independents. Give them freedom and they take it too far."
"There are several hundred independents. One bad apple doesn't ruin the lot."
"This is just the start. I suggest we rein them in."
"By what right?"
"By decree of Covenant. It is time to unite again."
Andre forced his voice to remain calm. "Our predecessors thought it wise to allow independence from the factions."