Revisionary

by Jim C. Hines

  I looked at Lena. “Anything else?”

  “How did you infiltrate and manipulate Vanguard?”

  “FBI informants. They’ve got plants in extremist groups across the country.”

  I shoved the book back into my pocket. “Time to forget about this conversation, Russell. You’re going to sleep now. When you wake up, you won’t remember anything that’s happened today.”

  “That sounds nice.” He closed his eyes and stretched out on the floor.

  Lena sheathed her knife. “Gateway?”

  The Gateway Project would give McGinley’s people the ability to strike anywhere in the world. “First we use it to get my family out of here. Then I destroy the whole damn project.”

  Toby scooped Lex up in his arms. His face was pale, and he kept staring down at Potts. “They organized those Vanguard attacks. They sent terrorists to kill people on their own side.”

  “Bad guys are real assholes, eh?” I glanced around the room. “Did Lex ever get those books I sent over from the library? I may need them to get us back to Franklin Tower unseen.”

  We told the nurse at the desk we were taking Lex for a walk. Once we reached the elevator, I used the invisibility spell from Stuart Little’s car. We made it across the grounds, but one of the guards outside Franklin Tower wore a magic damper. We stopped a short distance from the doors while I made a quick phone call.

  Five minutes later, Vince Hambrecht burst through the front doors. He grabbed the closest guard by the arm. “Have you seen an acid-breathing cobra with three heads come through here? She answers to the name of Selma. You’ve gotta help me find her.”

  While the visibly unhappy guards helped Vince search, the five of us slipped inside and made our way to the elevator. I stopped at my office to grab my jacket and books, and then we headed for the fifth floor.

  The door to the Gateway Project was locked and sealed. A notice pinned to the door prohibited anyone from entering without written permission from Babs Palmer. I saw no cameras, but the electronic ID scanner was probably rigged to sound an alarm. A second, magical barrier overlapped the first, creating a bubble around the entire room.

  I pulled out a copy of Stephanie Burgis’ A Most Improper Magick. I’d tucked a bookmark into the proper page. The protagonist could verbally disrupt magic. I handed Smudge to Lena and waited for them both to move down the hall, then used the book to pop the magical bubble. It took out our invisibility as well, though it didn’t reach Lena.

  I swapped it out for Neverwhere and headed down the hallway to the supply closet. I’d borrowed the mops and other cleaning materials on more than one occasion when my experiments went wrong.

  I’d used Neverwhere too much recently. The energy flowing through the pages had begun to turn them the color of ash. I sighed and pulled its power into the supply door, then opened it and stepped through to the Gateway room. The others followed a moment later. I switched on the lights and looked around. Most of my work was where I’d left it. “They haven’t gotten it working yet.”

  I gathered books from the floor and my worktable and sat down on the floor to work.

  “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Toby.

  “The theories are sound.” I began by twining stories together, pulling passages from different books and braiding them into a doorway in the center of the room.

  Story was magic. Magic was story. Memory was also story, disparate events linked together in our mind to create a narrative. I simply needed to bind magic and memory together. It was the same thing I’d done with Neverwhere, splicing the text with the imagined destination in my mind. This was simply bigger, more stable, and hopefully more precise over long distance. Assuming it worked.

  Water rippled over the partially formed doorway, each wave taking on a silver sheen as story elements combined. I glimpsed other worlds: fantastical forests and twisting tunnels and alien skies sprinkled with strange stars and oversized moons: fragments of realities that lived only in the minds of the authors and their readers, but were no less real for not existing. They flooded my thoughts, each one trying to impose itself on my memories.

  I pushed them aside, concentrating on my own memories of the Copper River Library. Of lounging on the beanbag chairs as a child, reading Goosebumps books and Bunnicula and A Wrinkle in Time and everything else I could get my hands on.

  That place had been a second home long before I’d come back as an adult and begun working there. I’d kept my first library card, a battered old laminated thing with my careful eight-year-old’s signature, up until last year when it was lost with everything else in a house fire. I’d read every book in the children’s section and moved on to the adult books. I remembered the summer after fifth grade, when the whole place smelled of sawdust and paint from renovations.

  Slowly, the ripples cleared and sagged, melting into a circle on the floor.

  “What’s happening?” asked Lex.

  “Um . . .” I’d hoped for a vertical doorway, but it looked like I’d created a hole instead. On the other side were the colorful shelves, carpeting, and toys in the children’s section. The portal was horizontal on this end and vertical in Copper River, but it appeared to be working. “It’s all right. I think.”

  The lights were on in the library. I grabbed one of my notebooks, tore out a page, and folded a quick paper airplane. I sighted past the shelves and threw.

  A moment later, Jason Latona stepped into view. He picked up the airplane and looked around in confusion.

  “Can he see the portal from his side?” asked Lena.

  Jason jumped and spun. “Lena? Where are you?”

  “Vegas.”

  “Hi, Jason!” I said. “Remind me, have you ever met my brother and his family? Would you like to?”

  “Your friend Deb said you might be bringing company, but she neglected the details.”

  I helped Lex toward the portal. “Sit here. I’m going to lower you through. You’re going to meet a friend of mine.”

  Jason stood with his head cocked to one side, studying the barefooted legs that seemed to protrude straight out of the air at his chest level. “You know, Isaac, one of the reasons I took a job up here was because the U.P. is supposed to be quiet and relaxing.”

  “Oh, bullshit. This was the only library that would take you as director.”

  “You shouldn’t say that word,” said Lex.

  “You’re right. It’s much more grown-up to say ‘bovine feces’ or ‘taurus excrement.’”

  “Isaac, do you mind?” said Angie.

  “Sorry.” I lifted Lex by the arms. “This is going to feel weird, but Mr. Latona will catch you, okay?”

  She bit her lip, but nodded.

  I winked and lowered her through. Just as she disappeared, Smudge erupted in flame. Lena drew her bokken and whirled to face the door.

  “Angie, Toby, get out of here.” I grabbed books from my jacket. The instant Toby and Angie made it through to Copper River, I seized the text of the gateway and prepared to tear it apart.

  The door shattered inward. Kiyoko Itô entered the room and promptly stumbled back from the punch Lena landed on the bridge of her nose. Blood spattered from Kiyoko’s nostrils, but she didn’t appear to care. Babs Palmer stood behind her, the magic of her rings and tattoos humming like electrical lines.

  I couldn’t tell whether this was the same Kiyoko I’d seen outside of Babs’ office or another clone. She wore a skullcap of electrodes and copper wire. She cocked her head to one side, and the sprinkler system came on. Strobe lights flashed from the corners of the ceiling.

  Lena lunged. Kiyoko twisted, but the wooden sword stabbed through her side. She reached out to catch Lena’s wrist. Before Lena could twist free, Kiyoko snapped a kick to her chest. Lena fell, and Kiyoko staggered back.

  The falling water outlined Lena’s body.

  That was all Kiyoko needed. Her right hand gripped the bokken protruding from her side. With her left, she pulled a black pistol from a holst
er in the small of her back and squeezed off four shots in quick succession.

  I couldn’t hear the impact, but Lena staggered. “Remove all magic,” Kiyoko said calmly.

  When I hesitated, she put another bullet into Lena, who gasped. “I’ve been instructed to capture Isaac Vainio alive. I have no such orders for your companion.”

  “Those bullets are enchanted.” Babs sounded utterly drained of emotion. “Lena’s armor won’t protect her.”

  I raised my hands. Whatever Kiyoko might be, her body was human. She couldn’t last long with a sword in her gut. I needed to stall her. “Let me help my friend.”

  “This is not a negotiation.” She turned the gun toward me and fired again. There was a burst of heat from my hip, and the cage broke away. Another shot tore through the center of the cage.

  I dropped to all fours. Smudge lay in his cage, blue flame shooting like a welding torch from the front of his body. Kiyoko’s bullet had sheared off his right foreleg.

  “Remove Lena Greenwood’s invisibility,” Kiyoko said calmly.

  “All right!” Swallowing hard, I grabbed Smudge’s cage, crawled over to Lena, and started to unravel her invisibility. I took my time. Nobody else performed this kind of libriomancy, so she couldn’t know how long it was supposed to take. As Lena slowly faded into view, I looked past her to the portal.

  Lena was bleeding, but the bullets didn’t seem to have gone all the way through. I focused my concentration on the portal. All those stories strung together on the floor, powerful and fragile at the same time. Left to its own devices, it would dissolve on its own within the hour.

  I wiped my hands on my jacket and felt the lump where I’d tucked the enchanted compact mirror away. I couldn’t leave anything that might allow Babs and the rest to recreate my work.

  “If you cooperate, they will survive,” said Kiyoko. “Back away.”

  I mentally reached out to the portal, seizing its text in my mind and flipping it like a giant magical pancake. I grabbed the compact and tossed it and Smudge’s cage to the floor next to Lena, just before the portal landed atop them. They disappeared, and the portal dissolved an instant later.

  “There goes your leverage,” I said quietly. “You really shouldn’t have told me your bosses need me alive. Especially since I don’t think I feel the same way about you.”

  Kiyoko’s body was human, but she’d been born of magic. I seized that magic and pulled, ripping away the heart of what made her more. I turned my attention to Babs next, grabbing the power of her tattoos and her jewelry and turning it against her and Kiyoko both.

  My vision blurred. I saw Babs collapse, and Kiyoko cried out in pain, obviously damaged. The cool precision with which she’d shot Lena and Smudge was utterly lacking when she dropped to one knee, raised her trembling arms, and put a bullet into my chest.

  MEMO

  To: All New Millennium Personnel

  From: Babs Palmer, Director of Security

  Subject: Internal Security Breach

  Effective immediately, Isaac Vainio has been terminated from his position as Director of Research at New Millennium.

  Several days ago, an internal investigation carried out in cooperation with the FBI and DHS discovered evidence that Isaac had been working with the group known as Vanguard, and had actively participated in at least two Vanguard attacks. He has been taken into custody for questioning.

  Talulah Polk is also suspected to have ties with Vanguard, working through Isaac. She is currently a fugitive, having fled New Millennium at approximately 10:30 Monday morning. If you have any information on her whereabouts, please contact security immediately.

  All research projects are to be placed on hold, and the remaining research staff will report directly to Russell Potts. Their only duty is to assist the FBI, DHS, and New Millennium security with the ongoing investigation into this matter.

  I cannot overemphasize the damage this incident does to New Millennium’s reputation and our ability to perform our mission. The future of New Millennium depends on your cooperation.

  “Hello? Gutenberg? Anyone?”

  THE WORLD WAS A kind of technicolor static, spheres of yellow and red floating across an infinite canvas the color of a flooded river back home. It was a bit like the afterimages you get when you rub your eyes after staring at a bright light, but when I tried to blink to clear my vision, nothing happened.

  ‹Isaac?›

  I could have been dreaming. Or possibly dead, though that seemed improbable. There was a familiarity to all of this, reminiscent of having my mind ripped from my body. It was annoying how many times that had happened to me. Separating mind from flesh was surprisingly easy, though reuniting the two could be a bit of a trick. But if my body was gone, why did the air smell like burnt popcorn?

  ‹Sorry. Hold on . . . is that better?›

  The smell ended with the suddenness of a guillotine. My vision changed as well. I could see blurry points of blue and green and white, all sparkling like Christmas decorations through a frosted window.

  ‹Is that Christmas thing an actual memory, Isaac? Or are we just seeing random misfires from the visual centers of the brain?›

  ‹Talulah? What’s going on? Are Lena and Smudge all right? Where are Lex and her parents?›

  ‹One question at a time. Lena’s fine. Smudge is limping, but he seems to be getting along. I healed them both the best I could.›

  Her words ripped open a maelstrom of emotion. I should have gotten everyone out more quickly. I should have found a way to escape with them, to heal them all myself. ‹You’re with them? How?›

  ‹ I hacked into the security feed from the Gateway room. I pieced together where they’d gone and got the hell out of there.›

  ‹If you figured out where they went—›

  ‹Relax. It took me three hours to figure out who you were talking to on the other side of that portal. Your friend isn’t listed as Jason in any official records, which makes him much harder to identify, especially after someone fried that part of the video. Now that they’ve got you, I don’t think they’re as worried about the rest of us.›

  ‹Thank you. What did they do to me? Where the hell am I?›

  ‹Easy, Isaac. If you get too worked up, your readings will spike, and I’ll have to pull out and try again later.›

  The thought terrified me, though I wasn’t sure why. ‹I remember the fight in my lab, and then you calling my name. There’s nothing in between.›

  ‹You were sleeping. Nothing to worry about.›

  ‹Don’t lie to me. I don’t remember falling asleep or waking up. I wasn’t dreaming. It’s like I didn’t exist until you started talking to me.›

  The pause stretched out for what felt like several minutes, but I had no objective way to measure the time. Finally, Talulah said, ‹You existed, but you were on standby. Like a computer in sleep mode.›

  The terror grew. ‹You’re holding back. I can feel it. Talulah, what happened to me?›

  ‹As far as I can tell, they brought you to the server room and hooked you into the network. Direct neural linkup, probably similar to what Kiyoko wore on her scalp. It lets her get into your brain, copy and sort through your memories, and so on.›

  ‹Why?› There were far easier ways to read someone’s mind.

  ‹Reading your mind is the easy part.›

  Obviously, since Talulah seemed to know my thoughts whether I tried to “speak” them or not.

  ‹They want to know how your brain works,› she explained. ‹How you’re able to do the kind of magic you do.›

  They thought they could do that by plugging me into a damn computer? ‹Wait, how much have they pulled from my memories?›

  ‹Everything.›

  ‹Then they know about Jason. They know where—›

  ‹They know you sent Lena and your family to the library. They don’t know where everyone went when they left the library. Like I said, I don’t think they care about the rest of us anymore. We’re safe. I
’ve spent the past two days poking around, trying to activate your consciousness without tripping any alarms.›

  Two days. I hoped someone was taking good care of my body. ‹How did you get in?›

  ‹That magic phone in your jaw. I’m using it as a kind of modem. I created a telepathic connection to a secure laptop, built a hard firewall and sent the signal through a series of encrypted Tor routers, and added a layer of magical programming just to be safe.›

  ‹If they took my memories, they’d know about the communicator.›

  ‹I’m sure they know about it. That doesn’t mean they know what I can do with it. You didn’t.›

  ‹Or you’re Kiyoko, trying to trick me into trusting you so you can access more of my mind.›

  ‹True enough. But you’re as helpless as a brain in a pickle jar, so there’s not much you can do about it either way. If I wanted your cooperation, all I’d have to do is stimulate the pleasure center of your brain. Or your pain center, if I was feeling unkind.›

  ‹Good enough for me. So how do we get me out of here?›

  ‹You’re going to do magic.›

  ‹Cool. How the hell am I going to manage that?›

  ‹With help. I’m going to try to activate the parts of your brain that deal with reading and memory. In some ways, it will be similar to what Kiyoko is trying to do.›

  I felt trepidation and uncertainty in her words, along with something more. A moment later, I recognized it as guilt. ‹What aren’t you telling me?›

  ‹I need you to think about a book you’ve read, one that would do serious, targeted damage to a server room.›

  Firestarter was the first book that came to mind. It was fresh in my memory after encountering its magic at Alexander Keeler’s home.

  ‹That should work,› said Talulah.

  ‹I’m not doing anything until you tell me the truth.›