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Rumi's Field (None So Blind Book 2)

Page 64

by Timothy Scott Bennett


  The rest of Stan's attention would go to matters of administration. So many key players had gone missing. And the hybrids had invaded Augusta. It was time to grab the spinning wheel and regain control of the ship of state, especially with Linda Travis declared lost and presumed dead from Hurricane Alpha. Stan Walsh was just the man for that job.

  And he would have Stendahl Banks and his trusty sidekick and cameraman, Eddie, to help with that. There were news stories to track and cover stories to create and reports to file. The international environmental summit was in a shambles. The Vice President had gone missing while they'd all converged on Squirrel Island, leaving the very confused Speaker of the House, Fort Simpson, to assume the duties of President from his office in Kenosha, Wisconsin. There were riots in half a dozen Federal shelters around the country. The heat wave continued, exacerbating the long drought and forcing more water rationing. The alien flu continued to spread around the globe, resulting in all manner of reactions: fear, scapegoating, isolation, preparation, and quarantine. And another of those strange crop symbols had appeared, this one just north of Augusta. Clearly, this was a news reporter's dream come true. Sten and Eddie would be busier than ever.

  Having put things into motion as much as they could, Cole and Linda turned their attention to the journey before them. What Danny knew about Urbem Orsus, the City of Beginnings - based solely on hushed whispers of rumor, he admitted, but widely believed to be true - was that it was a vast, underground structure built beneath the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone in Ukraine. It served, supposedly, as the gathering place and launching pad for what The Families referred to as the "Giant Leap," the secret, breakaway culture's planned attempt to leave the Earth and venture out to the stars. How they might get near the place, let alone down into it, Linda had no idea. How they would find and confront William and his cronies she could not foresee. All she knew was that she must, and that she'd figure it out as she went along.

  Stan thought the journey was preposterous, reckless, and unnecessary, and he said so. He advised Cole and Linda to stay the hell home, take care of their damned kids, and let him deal with those bastards. But Linda would not be persuaded. The question of the Greensleeves cure was too intimately connected to the question of these Families. She had to know what was real and true, and could not do that with her rational mind. She had to see The Families on her terms. Know them. Experience them. Feel them. She had to confront William in her realm. Eye to eye in her world. It was the only way. She didn't know why, but she knew that. This had been put on her. This was her burden. She had been made for this. Created. Guided. Trained. Chosen. And she would not be dissuaded.

  Linda had not thought beyond the idea that she and Cole would go together. She would not be separated from him again. Her need was too great. But Annabelle quickly disabused her of the notion that they would go alone. When the two women first met, there in the hospital corridor, it became quickly apparent to all who observed them that Linda and Annabelle were a match for each other in terms of stubbornness. And it was clear that Annabelle was suspicious of Linda and protective of Cole. As the Wayfaring Stranger, Cole was, in her eye, the key to this whole affair, and she and her Church were charged to serve and protect him, and would not be prevented from carrying out their responsibilities. Annabelle, Doobie, and Marionette would accompany them on this adventure. Linda would have to physically restrain them if she insisted otherwise. That's all there was to it.

  It was then that Gabrielle stepped forward to declare that she, too, would be going, as she was the only one amongst them who had an actual claim to be there. Her father was no doubt already in Urbem Orsus. Her presence might be the key to their admittance.

  Cole and Linda stood with their backs to the concrete block wall of MaineCentral’s front lobby, with Annabelle, Doobie, and Marionette lined up in front of them, and Gabrielle squeezing in from the side. "The Fellowship of the Vial," said Cole with a loud, deep, expansive voice, hoping to diffuse the situation. He held his arms out to his sides in a gesture meant to include them all. He smiled. None of the others smiled back.

  It was decided. It would not be some big military operation designed to take out an enemy. It would not be a stealth operation, with them donning disguises and sneaking in through an air vent. It would not happen because a magical wok deposited them neatly in an underground hallway right outside William's office. These six people were just going to travel there with trains, planes, and brains, find a door, and knock on it. Or something. They had Gabrielle, who belonged there. They had Cole's light. They had Annabelle's feisty arrogance and Doobie's quiet confidence and Marionette's fierce intelligence. They had Linda's determination, her mother's vengeance, and her Presidential authority.

  They hoped that they would be enough.

  17.3

  From: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  To: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  Subject: SI SecSys

  G. Needing access and update info re SI Level 5 security systems, especially wrt M31-119aX38 tri-level lifeform known as the "Murk." Current situation? Thnx. D

  From: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  To: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  Subject: re: SI SecSys

  Dan-O! Thought you'd gone down with the ship. Changeling completely flooded. Lots of bodies but not yours. Whereabouts? Enquiring bosses want to know. Re Murk, you don't have the clearance, bud. What's up? G

  From: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  To: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  Subject: re: SI SecSys

  Last minute intervention, G. Too much to explain. Sitrep: Tiger by the tail. LT alive and in motion. Working her from inside. Murk access necessary to obtain bargaining chip. Can you help out an old altar boy? D

  From: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  To: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  Subject: re: SI SecSys

  Jesus, D! Lady Tiger will eat you alive. And you can't game the Masters. Get yer ass in and let the professionals handle it. G

  From: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  To: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  Subject: re: SI SecSys

  Need you to trust me on this one, G. Tiger's guard is down and emotions rule the day. I'm already inside. Rich with possibilities. Your spec re Masters is correct: they are bugging out. ASAP. Following plan to hitch a ride. For now, I need to play this angle. Get me inside info on the SI Murk. You owe me, girl. Miami. D

  From: baster'D@bbss.net (encrypted)

  To: sparxxx@bbs.net (encrypted)

  Subject: re: SI SecSys

  Were it not for Greensleeves, D, I would turn yer ass in. Clearly the old rules no longer apply. Look for access datapak at ATS drop site. Best of luck. I'll see you in prison. G

  Danny, clad now in some dry civvies he’d found in a hospital storage closet, opened his dropfile folder to see the datapak already downloading. He smiled slightly as the progress bar moved quickly to 100%. He dragged the file to a TabDrive, then deleted the original. He peeled away the drive, slid it into a case, and put it in his shirt pocket. Then he switched off the borrowed laptop, rose from his chair, and headed out of the office Stan had given him. A room awaited him back at the Presidential Home and he needed to get there before he could proceed. For some reason he could not understand, the fact that he was Mary's brother had given him more access than he would ever have believed possible. He was going to take advantage of that. For now, that meant trying to get a bead on the President's oldest. Hopefully, whatever was on that Tab would do the trick.

  17.4

  Cole could scarcely believe it was still the same day. The same day he'd confronted a hurricane and rescued his wife. The same day Linda had been resurrected from the dead. The same day they'd made a deal with the Middle Children. That any of them were still standing felt like a miracle to him. That they seemed to be thinking clearly even more so. And that he was soon going to leave again was almost too much to hold in his mind.

  But this was not
a matter of mind, was it? Not a situation for rationality and problem solving. Not to say that he was not using his head. Just that he wasn't following his head. He was following his gut, his heart, his instinct, his inner knowing. The rational thing to do would be to hole up with the girls in that nullspace and let Stan and his people handle things. But Linda had said "no." And when she'd said it, Cole knew that she was right. Even when that meant that, once again, he would leave his children behind and step out into a dangerous and mysterious world.

  Did he have that right? How could one answer such a question? Ever since Linda Travis had smashed into his life with her old, stolen Buick, Cole's life had been a series of unanswerable questions and extreme situations. Life. Death. Good. Evil. Elite human overlords. Alien beings. And all of these forces playing out against the backdrop of an unraveling world that trembled underfoot like an earthquake that would never end. The fact remained that none of his facts remained. The old rules no longer seemed to apply. The mind, at least Cole's mind, could not keep up.

  But that wasn't exactly true, was it? One old rule still applied. Cole loved his children. And he wanted to be there for them, to protect them, to help them. That remained. The flesh, and its longings, remained. And Cole was not convinced that he could ever change that, or should. Love amongst human beings felt, to him, like the only glue that would hold them together while everything else fell to pieces. But what to do when love pulled you in two different directions?

  He'd done what he could. The nullspace apartment, with Mary and Ness on guard, and a solid army of hybrids around them all, would provide an impregnable barrier between the world and his children. He'd add another layer of protection, once they were all safely inside. The Middle Children were convinced that these measures would keep his children from any possible harm. But that was on their end. From his end, it felt like he and Linda were off to battle Goliath with one tiny slingshot and only three small stones: his light; Gabrielle's Family connection, and Linda's office. Were they walking blindly into a trap? Would they simply serve as lightning rods for the cabal's vengeance? There was no way of knowing. These Families had already tried to kill them both. Why would they hesitate to try again? And how could his and Linda's death serve as any sort of love and protection and help for his children?

  What Cole knew for certain was that this would be the last time. He'd been pushed around enough. Used by forces too large for him to fully understand. Made a player in a game he did not want to play. Whether he was really an alien himself, come here to fulfill some agreed-upon role, he neither knew nor cared at this point. Any contracts he'd made on the other side he now considered fulfilled. He was a man. A human man. With a human heart. And children who needed him. When he and Linda got back, he would not leave them again. The other players would have to go on fighting each other without him. The Wayfaring Stranger was done wayfaring.

  Their bags were packed. Linda had arranged a flight for them through her many contacts. The Fellowship of the Vial would be in London before morning. And then on to Ukraine. There were a few things left to do. Kiss his sleeping son on the forehead. Say goodbye to the girls. Explain to them as best he could why he had to go. And promise to them that he'd never leave them again. They'd be sealed up in the nullspace and Cole would create his protective shield of light. And then Cole and Linda, Gabrielle, Annabelle, Doobie, and Marionette would board a small jet and fly into the night.

  Cole was ready. Let's get this done. He wanted to go home.

  17.5

  Her loves needed her, so Ness made herself available and present to their needs. The girls had packed some clothes, but they were exhausted and sad and afraid for their parents. Mary was feeling scattered and divided, wanting to be there for both the girls and Keeley at the same time. Keeley's health seemed to be improving, but it was a slow process. At least, knowing now that the flu was not contagious in the usual sense, Mary did not have to go through the tiresome process of suiting up. Cole and Linda were ready to go, and dealing with their own guilt and fear and anticipation. Ness was at their sides as much as was possible, providing good food and drink, sharing a steady smile, and giving them all the experience of being loved. Surely she could do that.

  Mary and the girls stood beside a small wok that hovered near the garage. Their stuff was loaded. It was time to say goodbye and then go into hiding. Cole and Linda pulled up in a jeep. Their driver, one of the Middle Children soldiers, opened their doors and the President and her husband climbed out onto the paved drive. Ness walked up to the couple and hugged them together, burying her face between their necks and shoulders. Then they walked over to the wok.

  Cole opened his mouth to speak but immediately choked up. So he knelt down and drew the girls in and squeezed them tightly. Linda reached out and embraced Mary, then stepped in to hug the girls as soon as Cole loosened his grip. Grace spoke into Linda's ear. "I know you have to go," she said. She glanced at Emily, who nodded through her own tears, then pulled back so she could look both Cole and Linda in the eye. "You both have to go. We know that. Just like we had to go, when we disappeared. So go, and do what you need to do, and then come back." She looked from Linda to her father. "I know you will. You'll come back. And we'll be here waiting for you."

  Linda smiled through her tears. What had she done, to deserve such grace? She sniffed loudly and nodded. "We will," she said to Grace. "If I have anything to say about it, we'll be back very soon." She looked to Emily. "You guys take care of each other, okay? Mary. Ness. You girls. Take care of each other. And take care of your brother. Okay?"

  Emily nodded. Grace forced a quivering smile. Then the girls, Mary, and Ness crawled into the wok that would take them to the nullspace, the whereabouts of which only the Middle Children knew. The wok rose against the backdrop of the setting sun, the rich oranges and purples of sunset gleaming off its surface. Then it flashed brightly and was gone.

  Cole took Linda's hand and they walked back to the Jeep. It was time to meet up with the others and board their plane. "That was hard," said Linda, softly, as they walked.

  "Yeah," said Cole. His voice was low and rough.

  "You know what makes it the hardest?"

  "What?" answered Cole.

  "The fact that I'm not even sure why we're going," she said with a sigh.

  17.6

  Danny watched the wok depart with his sister, the cook, and the President's children inside. He watched the President and her husband get back into the Jeep that had brought them here and then drive away. He let the curtain fall back into position and returned to the little desk on the opposite wall, where his laptop lay open. He touched the pad and sent one last email, then closed the computer and put it in a drawer. He did not expect to be interrupted here, but saw no reason to leave his things out where anybody could see them.

  He walked over and sat on the edge of his bed and took off his shoes. Then he reached up and felt the back of his head with his fingers, pushing his hair up and out of the way to examine the magnetic dock that had been installed in his skull. It had been some time since his last major data transfer and he knew that these docks could corrode. His felt shiny and clean and ready to use, so he pulled the tab from his pocket and opened the case. A thin magnetic disc the size of a dime, yet it would carry all the information on Murks that the Bastard had been able to get her hands on, and a recording of the SI Murk's telemetry since its installation.

  He examined the disc on both sides. It, too, was shiny and clean. He knew once he touched it to the dock that he'd be out of it for a few minutes. It wasn't like being out of the body, as far as he could tell from what the travelers reported, but it was an intense blast of data and experience, and it would overwhelm his conscious awareness for a time. On the other side of the experience, of course, he'd know as much about Murks as anybody, and he'd have a clear understanding of what had happened to the President's son. Such knowledge would, if he was correct, be invaluable in his quest to get off-planet. How he would use that knowledge he
was not yet sure. But that was a moot question, until such time as he had the knowledge, wasn't it?

  Danny lay back onto the bed, rolling onto his left side so as not to dislodge the tab accidentally should he move his head. Some moderate amount of jerking and spasm was to be expected during a data transfer, after all, making him look, to an outside observer, as though he were having a mild seizure. He'd hate to interrupt the process. Danny closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then reached up to put the tab in place.

  The magnets clicked as they touched. The transfer began.

  17.7

  Jay Sinclair had not had the opportunity to ask William Reynolds about his daughter's whereabouts. The enigmatic Director had decided to deliver his reports via HereNow rather than in person, and had terminated the connection right after he'd completed his presentation. As a junior member of the Directorate, Sinclair could have pushed the issue. Not with Reynolds, perhaps, but he could have certainly called upon the services of a traveler if he'd wished to. But he didn't. He let it go. The door had not opened easily. Jay Sinclair had learned long ago to only pass through the doors that opened easily.

  Not that that approach was always the best. He was thankful, for instance, that The Families had pushed through with the designs and installations necessary for the One-Two Punch, the implementation of which would break them through the Grid, a door that had proved anything but easy to open. But in this matter of his daughter and her choices, not pushing felt like the best possible path for him to take. It was a matter of the Prime Directive, after all. A matter of freedom and choice. And he knew, from his experience with his own parents, that lifelong hatreds and resentments could result when such things were ignored or dismissed. He decided that leaving a daughter behind that loved him would be preferable to dragging along a daughter that hated him. He just wished he could communicate with her one last time, to wish her Godspeed and bless her choice, no matter how much it grieved him. Leaving behind a daughter that hated him seemed the worst possible scenario he could imagine.

 

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