It hit me for real, that we were doing this. We were going into Dubai.
It was now, officially, too late to change our minds.
I pushed the thought from my mind even as I gasped a little at the speed of the retracting line. I saw Revik looking at the gauge on the machine that calculated our distance...
Right before we smacked into the back of the ship.
We hit hard enough that it halfway knocked the wind out of me, forcing me to gasp, even as Revik coiled his arm around me, holding me protectively against the ship’s stern as he looked down at the main propeller.
The thing looked huge through the infrared, and pretty scary.
It also looked way too damned close, even though I’d seen exactly where Revik hit the ship with the dart, and knew we were well above the damned thing.
On the plus side, the churn from the wake wasn’t an issue now that we were above it. We now existed in a strange pocket of quiet, protected by the thrust of the ship through the water by the propeller itself, so that the wake started somewhere above us, and a few yards out from the stern of the ship itself.
Revik sent a pulse of warmth to me, to my chest.
I felt the reassurance there, and realized I was still gasping a little, fighting a fear reaction as much as anything. Feeling his concern, I forced my breathing back to normal, or as close as I could get, if only so I wouldn’t screw up my oxygen intake somehow and make myself sick.
We just huddled there, not trying to talk, not even with our hands.
Instead we held on to one another, and waited for the ship to reach shore.
26
BRAVE NEW WORLD
I FELT IT, as soon as we passed through the membrane of the construct around Dubai.
I could tell by his tightening hands and fingers on me that Revik felt it, too.
Shields would do us no good in here, I knew, at least not for regular walking around. From what Stanley and Surli told us, they’d probably just get us spotted even faster, given the density and pervasiveness of the construct. Our only option really, was to keep our thoughts inconspicuous and quiet during normal times... silent and/or mundane when we thought we were being watched. Even with that, we also had to hope like hell we didn’t get picked up in a random scan when we weren’t doing either of those things.
More than anything, we had to protect ourselves by staying out of the Barrier.
The shielding would be for when we had absolutely no choice but to use the Barrier for something, which again, was more of an urgent-emergent kind of thing, not the game plan for walking around the city, much less for finding the List seers and humans. We had to rely on our infiltration team for that––meaning those outside the construct.
We had no guarantee shields would work inside here, anyway.
Instead, it felt more like we were holding our breaths, hoping not to be seen.
I kept a close eye on Revik’s light.
I didn’t notice anything strange. Other than the light of the construct falling down over both of us, that is, molding around our light and the aleimic projections we used to try and disguise the more telling aspects of our identities.
Like with most high-grade constructs of the Dreng, it cut my breath just how insidious those threads of light really were. It was like watching water splash over rocks covered in tiny fissues and holes, filling through every microscopic opening without effort. It was difficult to even notice the extent of that penetration before it was already too late.
I doubted ordinary seers would even notice the vast majority of that construct’s influence––much less ordinary humans.
Not panicking for that fact alone ended up being the hardest thing for me to breathe through. It built a claustrophobic reaction in my chest and belly that had Revik caressing my arms and back and chest through the fabric of the wet suit. I did the same to him, even as we kept our lights more or less to ourselves. As we hung there, holding each other, I watched that construct possess both of us in methodical increments, sliding through openings and shadows in our lights so tiny I felt my nerves worsen as I watched them appear and disappear.
Even so, I didn’t get the sense it knew us.
Also, Revik dealt with it really well.
Better than I’d dared to hope.
I could feel his fear. I felt him control that fear, too, even as he breathed evenly through his respirator next to me. I felt all of the meditation he’d been doing with Jon kick in, including a denser cloud of his light solidifying as he consciously stilled his mind.
Watching him, I decided I would be joining them on that meditation kick of theirs, when and if we got out of this alive.
More than anything, the construct appeared to be marking us.
Once it finished doing that, I felt it turn to its next function, namely, to gradually––mechanically almost––begin to twist our mental framework to be compatible with the reality the construct projected. Again, the shifts were organic, subtle, integrated seamlessly into the apparent workings of our own minds––and all the more unnerving for all those reasons.
I knew that layer of the construct functioned to create a kind of “groupthink” inside the construct itself. Certain realities would feel inevitable, as self-evident as any natural law. Most would agree within the Dreng construct without noticing that they did so. Thus, the construct was ideological, yes, but it also created a layer of delusion, and thus control.
I felt it as pressure around my light, mostly––likely my living light fighting back as the construct tried to force it down more rigid and narrow confines.
I found myself reminded of that seer, Ivy, and how she’d twisted my reality on the cruise ship all of those years ago, in my very first encounter with an agent of Shadow. She’d made me see everything differently by enfolding my light into a warped, twisted version of reality, until I couldn’t see any of it clearly: myself, human beings, the state of the world, my own light, Revik.
She’d done it fast––in a matter of seconds.
Of course, I’d been pretty defenseless back then, but the reminder was still sobering.
By the time the ship began to slow for real, I’d more or less found a balance inside those metallic silver strands. It wasn’t a comfortable balance, but I didn’t feel completely lost there, either. I also didn’t feel like I was raising any alarms on their end.
Only then did I look at Revik, using the infrared that time.
To say he looked tense was an understatement.
I didn’t dare use my light to try and reassure him, so I used seer sign language instead, motioning towards him with the hand I wasn’t using to grip his shoulder.
It’s okay. We’re okay. Right? In and out.
He nodded, smiling at me faintly through the regulator.
Tell me if you get targeted for real, I reminded him. Let me shield you... don’t try to do it yourself, okay?
I thought I saw a faint eye-roll through his goggles that time. That impression was confirmed when he motioned back.
No shit, wife, he answered me, using the less formal version of hand signals.
I fought not to laugh, but he gripped hold of me tighter.
I felt fear in the way he held me, but I didn’t know how to help him with that, either. Nor did I blame him. What we were doing was pretty fucking stupid, actually.
Revik must have felt some of that, because he laughed, exuding bubbles.
It was growing dark overhead. I looked up, confused at first, then faintly alarmed. Hearing the difference in sound a few seconds later, and how it echoed underwater, I relaxed when I realized they were just bringing the ship into the indoor dock. We were simply closer than I’d realized. We had to get ready to move.
Revik motioned again with his hand. I followed his fingers via the infrared.
Looks like we’re on the north side. Middle dock. Going to be harder to get to the cleared area without being seen.
I nodded.
I tried not to let that worsen my
nerves, but it wasn’t easy.
It’ll be okay. He grinned at me through the regulator. You’re a good swimmer, right?
I did my best to smile back.
Maybe in part to distract myself, I returned my focus to our light, trying to get a sense of the impact of the construct without reaching out, or doing anything obvious enough to alert any watching seers to our presence. I needed it to look like we belonged there, even as we kept out as much of the construct light as we possibly could.
I could feel flickers and tendrils still worming their way deeper into my light––and, more worryingly, Revik’s––but I could also feel that the construct had been designed to penetrate and redirect light gradually.
So really, it was treating us like anyone else.
It was clearly designed to worm its way inside individual seers and humans so they wouldn’t notice the difference right away. Instead, from an individual person’s perspective, they would seem to evolve “naturally” towards the viewpoint and vibrations being projected by the construct.
So yeah, in all senses really, it was pretty horrifying.
Revik pulled me out of my mono-focus a few minutes later, right as the engines shut off on the ship, bringing the propellers to a final, grinding halt below us.
While the sound of more distant machinery continued to echo through the water, everything seemed weirdly quiet without that louder, closer noise. I just floated there for a few seconds next to Revik, weirdly disoriented from the lesser interference with my mind.
Then Revik was pushing me lightly with his hands, indicating for me to head to the starboard side of the ship, where it rested against the dock. I realized only then that he’d already unbuckled both of us from the harnesses holding us to one another and the penguin.
I followed the prodding of his hands, nodding when he gestured to me that we had to watch the bubbles we emitted now, at least while we were in view of the pier.
Revik had us under the actual dock a few seconds later, where we had a bit of breathing room. Once we were far enough under it, and away from any of the mapped surveillance, we breached, making as little noise as possible.
Luckily, the dock itself was loud.
As soon as I breached, even with the suit covering my head, I heard announcements echoing over loudspeakers, heavy equipment running above us, probably unloading cargo from the ship we’d just ridden in on, or getting ready to. Electronic winches operated somewhere overhead, some humming smoothly along and sounding more high-tech, and some grinding through rust and salt like they’d been sitting there a lot longer.
I heard voices, too, most of them speaking in Arabic.
Revik pulled the regulator out of his mouth, motioning for me to do the same. Then, before he dealt with his own, he caught hold of the tank harness around me and started to unbuckle the front of it, meaning the part that held the oxygen tank to my back. He had everything unlocked in a matter of seconds, then pulled me around so that my back faced him, and worked to get the tank off me entirely, which was no mean feat, bobbing in the water.
Once he had it off me, he weighted it, and let it drop.
I watched it sink below the dock through the dark water.
I pulled my goggles off then, too, weighted those with the pebble-sized organics Dante provided us, and let those go as well, tugging the hood of the wetsuit off my head before I started to writhe out of the rest of it. Revik held on to the waterproof pack I’d worn under the oxygen tanks while I got the suit off.
Then I was only wearing black biker shorts and a sports bra-like top.
Once I’d clicked the waterproof pack back around my body, we repeated the whole exercise on him. By then, a lot of pain was coming off both of our lights.
I had to smack his hands off me a few times as he took the opportunity to caress my bare skin under the water while I was fighting to get all of the equipment off him. Fighting not to laugh, in nerves as much as anything, I shoved at his shoulder to get him to turn around, and wrangled the oxygen tank off him, too.
He tugged and struggled his way out of the wetsuit while I held his pack, and then he was only wearing shorts. And yeah, it was distracting, even with him wearing prosthetics so that I could barely make out the real outline of his face. The blond hair was a trip, and kept making me stare, even as I checked his body while he got out of the last of the wetsuit, making sure he hadn’t rubbed off any of the prosthetics covering scars and other identifying marks.
The prep team had done a good job.
His back looked so smooth and unblemished it didn’t look like his at all.
I wasn’t even wearing the ring he’d given me. I’d given it to Lily to wear for me, before she left with her grandparents.
Thinking about her brought a tightness to my throat, so I shoved her out of my mind, even as Revik clicked his own pack around him, motioning for me to follow as he swam deeper under the pier.
Surli and Stanley mapped this area extensively, mainly for surveillance, although we had a pretty good idea of the physical layout, too. Motion detectors and image captures of various kinds littered the length of the pier itself, but Surli and Stanley had been tasked with clearing out a portion of the upper deck in the previous few days so we could slip through.
By now, they should have a few others with them, too, including Dalejem, Chinja and several more seers from the Children of the Bridge camp.
I wasn’t super thrilled about that, but again, I got the logic. Dalejem knew Dubai. He and a few of the others from their camp had also been here relatively recently.
So yeah, I just had to suck it up.
We got to the far southwestern end of the complex a few minutes and a number of swims later, including a riskier one that took us out into open water again and across the bows of several docked ships. The route we took should have been in a line absent of any direct surveillance according to the specs we’d been given, but yeah, it was still unnerving.
We took as many precautions as we could, including staying deep enough that we couldn’t be seen from the pier itself. As a result, although we stopped in the shadow of one of the larger bows to catch our breath, huddled on the side facing away from the nearest docks, both of us were panting by the time we made it to the opposite pier.
At least we were under the right one that time.
I found the ladder a few minutes later, and we both caught hold of the metal rungs. Revik nudged me to go first, so I began climbing up as carefully and as quietly as I could, hoping no one would be in the section of dock directly above.
Luckily, another ship was being unloaded on that side, too, one that looked like it had docked not long before ours, so there was plenty of camouflage. When I poked my head above the edge of the pier, the closest dock workers I saw were busy unloading crates a few dozen yards away, and not looking in our direction.
We’d been told by Surli and Dalejem that a good chunk of this landing area existed as a regular, old-school, open-air drydock prior to Dubai becoming a quarantine city. As part of the so-called improvements undertaken by Shadow, they’d covered the dock to make the port more secure. They’d also expanded it to about five times the original size and cleared a swath of land behind it to function as a safety perimeter.
That perimeter included a fenced off swath of beach armed with organic binary electric grids and land mines. The dock was accessible only by a secure, high-speed train now.
And by ship, of course.
Of course, they’d also expanded the organic binary electric (OBE) grid more generally, both on the land and ocean sides, to keep out rising tides and the increasingly erratic weather, as well as foreign and domestic enemies and carriers of C2-77. According to Surli, they’d begun giant construction projects in the past few months to expand the size of the city even more, as well as to lift the foundations on older buildings to protect them from erosion due to the gradual effects of weather changes.
Even so, Dubai was as much a fabrication as a reality.
From what I’d been told, there was very little “real” environment left here at all anymore, at least that would lend itself to an inhabitable city. The water all came from purified and desalinated seawater, all crops grown came from underground fields of reconstructed soil and genetically-enhanced seeds designed to survive on simulated sunlight and drought-level irrigation. All of the lakes and lawns and golf courses were entirely man-made, of course, and would have dried to dust in days without the extensive atmosphere-adjustment fields, crazy amounts of watering by the desalination plants. Shaded concourses graced most of the man-made structures, misting water down on the land and people below, pretty much 24/7.
Really, it was more of an amusement park than a city.
Now, with Shadow at the helm, it was a fortress in many ways, as well.
We’d discussed at a few meetings why Shadow would primarily choose coastal and island cities as the focal points of his quarantine zones, given the amount of maintainance involved just to keep them viable. Revik believed the choice had been deliberate. He explained Shadow would prefer that, primarily because the residents of those cities would forever be dependent on whoever owned the infrastructure, which would give him more control.
The location of Dubai itself also had strategic and economic advantages, partly because there was little danger of encroachment from the land. Although it couldn’t be cut off as easily as the quarantine cities in Tibet and some of the other regions taken over by Shadow’s people, it still maintained a lot of geographic privilege, in terms of its impregnability.
And clearly they had the money to keep it going, no matter how stupid or wasteful it seemed to me.
From what Surli told us in the last transmission before we left the carrier, Dubai definitely didn’t lack for cheap labor, either. He said they were bringing them in by the boatload, mostly from India and other parts of Asia, but also from the West and Africa. With the increase in construction projects, those shipments had grown more frequent.
Allie's War Season Four Page 119