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Twig Page 137

by wildbow


  I watched it, studying.

  “We might have to decide on a plan as we act. Come to a decision there. Decide on our own,” I said.

  “I don’t like that,” Mary said.

  “That includes making a decision on Percy,” I said. “If anyone doesn’t want to move forward, if Mary wants to spare Percy, then we retreat here. Pretend we never left.”

  “I don’t know,” Mary said, but she said it in a way that sounded like she was actually considering it.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” I said, not looking at her. “I don’t want to lose Lillian. I swear to you, on my membership in the Lambs, that I’m not going to manipulate you when it comes down to the decision. We get close, then we decide on a course of action. But we can’t stay here, we can’t just sit and wait and let things unfold. That serves nobody and no-one.”

  “I agree,” Gordon said. “I’m on the fence about this, I need to know more before we make a call.”

  Lillian was only shaking her head, a small gesture, nervous.

  “I know you have commitments to the Academy,” Gordon said, his voice soft.

  “Yes. And to the people,” Lillian said. “To my family. I might only see them once or twice a year, but—”

  Gordon signaled. Stop.

  Lillian shut her mouth.

  He shifted the signal to careful. Listen.

  The gesture for listen was loose, fingers unfolding to indicate the general area. Listening ears.

  “I can’t do this,” Lillian said. “Please believe me. It would be… so horrible.”

  Fray’s release of the books, made out to be an apocalyptic event.

  “Do you want to stay behind?”

  “No! I want—I want to… I need to know that the Lambs are who I thought they were. That they understand, and when it matters, they take me at my word, about the very things I’ve studied.”

  “Is that because what you studied is right and real, Lil, or is it propaganda?” I asked.

  She whirled on me, as upset as I’d ever seen her. “You just promised, Sy. You wouldn’t manipulate me. That’s manipulation. What you just did.”

  “No,” I said, very calm. “Manipulation would be pointing out how you getting upset right now is telling, and that you’re more insecure than you’re letting on. My promise was in regards to when we were there, deciding. At the pivotal moment. Not here. Here I’m going to argue my case.”

  “Sy,” she said, and her voice was terse. “I’m fond of you, I’m fond of every one of the Lambs. But I have parents to think about, I have aunts, uncles, and cousins. I have dreams, and if you want to risk everything so you can make a grand dramatic play, then I’m saying no.”

  Another artillery shell came down. It was on the far side of the building. I heard something crack and crumble, but the soldiers around the perimeter didn’t act like it was anything special. A close call.

  There were no underground tunnels, supposedly. Fray couldn’t fly. A literal army surrounded her. I imagined the Academy forces saw it as an easy victory, a bird in the hand. They could let the train come with the monsters, and use only the expendable assets to eliminate the enemy. Only stitched and superweapons.

  It had to be eleven thirty or thereabouts. An hour and a half, and the reinforcements would arrive. Those huddled men taking cover under canvas and by sandbag were probably discussing their strategy now. So easy to do. The way they mingled, sending men over this way and that under the premise of getting and sharing information, latrine breaks and grabbing quick bites to eat, they could be communicating a greater plan.

  One signal, and there would be slaughter. Fray would play her gambit, and if I was right, the army here would turn on itself. Mortar shots fired at rooftops. A coordinated strike, removing the major players.

  “It’s not about the play or doing anything fancy,” I said, as my ears stopped ringing from the recent explosions.

  “I heard what you said before. I know you’ve got justifications. But Sy, you’re smart enough that you’re going to come up with perfect, convincing reasons to do something you want to do, and you’re going to come up with perfect, convincing reasons not to do something you want to do. When Fray or Mauer or whoever else come into the picture, you get caught up in their gravitational pull, because they give you the ability to make your mark, to make bigger, clearer actions and bigger, clearer justifications to do those things.”

  “So, what? Does that make everything I say invalid? I’ll always have good-sounding reasons to do something or not do something? My rationale doesn’t matter?”

  “It breaks down to what Gordon was trying to get at last night. The root of the issue.”

  “We’re not going to play twenty questions again, are we? Because the way you guys play, Gordon plays, is to ask the same question twenty times.”

  “No,” Lillian said. “We’re not going to grill you. That’s not what I’m getting at. I just think… we’re walking into the lion’s den, and I don’t know how we’re getting in or out, or if I like the Lambs going there when I know I won’t like what I hear.”

  “I know how we’re getting in,” I said. “Helen… wait, what time is it?”

  “Hold on,” Lillian said. She reached into a pocket, and pulled out a pocket watch without a chain. “Eleven forty.”

  “Okay, Helen, run a quick errand. Tell the nearest artillery team to drop a shell between the ensconced building entrance down there, and the shop under us here. Then further out, same thing, but between the building entrance and Fray’s building. You see what I mean? ”

  “I see.”

  “They shoot at eleven-fifty, eleven-fifty-two, as fast as they can load a shell and fire again, then do it in reverse, at twelve-twenty and twelve twenty-two.”

  “Okay.”

  Then she was off.

  “Cover of smoke and debris?” Gordon asked. “A lot of ground to cover.”

  “We can make it,” I said.

  “If Fray delays us…”

  “She won’t,” I said.

  “You’re sure? Because—”

  “She won’t,” I said. “Trust me. She won’t have a choice in the matter.”

  Gordon frowned at me.

  “Trust me,” I said.

  “I do,” he said. “As much as I trust anyone. But I’m an old man, Sy. Trusting you isn’t good for a weak heart like mine.”

  “Don’t joke,” I said.

  He gave me a slight smile.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Lillian said. “Ten minutes, you scheduled us to leave. You’re setting a time limit, putting pressure on me. I pay attention, Sy. I’m a good student. It’s why I’m here!”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Now that she points it out, it sounds like she’s right on the mark,” Mary said.

  Not you too!

  Before I could open my mouth, Lillian was on me. “It’s like you’re an abusive husband, you act mean, you tease, you taunt, you manipulate, then you start saying and doing all the right things, you lure me back in, you make me let my guard down—”

  “Husband is a little bit forward, I think.”

  “No! No jokes, no teasing, no manipulation. I’m sorry I’m not cooperating, and this apology is for Gordon and Mary and Hubris and Helen who isn’t here, but no. You’re not going to budge me. The only way to win against Sy for sure is to not play his games. I’m staying right here. I’m not coming, and if you leave, I’m going straight to the people in charge and telling them what’s happening.”

  I sighed.

  Lillian folded her arms.

  “Even if it kills us?” I asked.

  “If you do this, if you’re really considering this, you’re dead to me,” she said.

  I could see from her expression that that wasn’t true in the slightest. That it killed her to say.

  “Lillian,” I said, and I dropped my voice to a whisper, stepping closer. I reached out to pull her hands free and take them in mine, and she refused t
o give them to me. “She’s going to make this happen.”

  “Not with our help,” Lillian whispered to me.

  “I saw their setup,” I said. “Okay? Where their stuff is. I know where the labs are, you know what’s flammable. No grand plays, nothing fancy, we get over there, Mary gets to confront Percy, I get to hunt for the books, we burn them out.”

  All lies.

  With all the strength I could muster, I pulled one of Lillian’s hands away from her arm. I clasped her wrist, and put my hand in hers, palm up.

  I signaled. Ruse.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  I looked over my shoulder at Gordon and Mary. They’d seen the gesture.

  “I don’t trust you,” Lillian said.

  “We’re doing this,” I said. “We don’t have long. Come on.”

  Helen was already on her way back.

  I had Lillian’s wrist. I pulled her behind me.

  In through the access window that let us into the attic of the building.

  The hatch leading from the attic to the building below was locked. I got my lockpicks out, but Mary pushed me aside.

  “Sy,” Gordon said.

  “Trust me,” I said.

  It wasn’t a hard lock to open. Less than a minute’s time. The hatches were common to every attic in the area, and the real purpose was to delay invaders, they could afford to be cheap.

  The building was a set of offices, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke and firewood. We were quickly down the stairs to the third floor, then the second.

  I stopped. The others, intent on continuing down to the first, bumped into me. I stopped them.

  I raised a finger to my lips, and led the others to the window. Still pulling Lillian behind me, I crouched there.

  My fingers tapped Lillian’s pocket. She withdrew her pocket watch.

  Two minutes until.

  Crouching, hands over my ears, I waited, the others with me.

  The explosion rocked the building, knocking me on my ass. Gordon’s hand kept the bayonet blade of my rifle from stabbing Mary. They helped support me. I watched the plume of smoke, then looked to either side, studying the surroundings.

  The next explosion came before the debris from the first had cleared. Easier to bear.

  “What’s—” Gordon started.

  I put a finger out, shushing him.

  The retaliation from the rebels came shortly after. A band of stitched, carrying heavy rifles. The rifles of the people at the perimeter and the rifles of the stitched didn’t quite reach each other, with intervening buildings and everything else. They were firing at people on the rooftops.

  How does this work?

  A horn, as it turned out. It blared from above.

  And who?

  My heart sank as I saw. Dog and Catcher reached the ground level in record time. They plowed into the group of stitched.

  One stitched ran back toward Fray’s building, dropping the weapon and disappearing into the smoke.

  I held up my fingers, counting.

  One. Two. Three. Four…

  “Sy?” Gordon asked, noting the fingers.

  Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven…

  Twenty seconds in all passed before Catcher returned, his quarry in his mancatcher’s grasp. The smoke was clearing, and as it did, he picked up the pace, running for cover, snapping the stitched’s neck and tearing head from shoulders with a movement of the mancatcher.

  He passed out of our field of vision.

  “You expected that,” Gordon said, voice quiet.

  I nodded.

  “I don’t understand,” Lillian said.

  “It wasn’t the plan to cross over and wing it,” I said. “I suspected we were being watched or listened to. I wanted them to think we were coming. Fray’s mole, if she had any, would want to pass on information about us sabotaging her, blowing up labs, the fact our group was split. The trick was to give them a reason and an opportunity.”

  I looked at each of the Lambs.

  “If they didn’t have a mole, nothing lost, we talk it through and schedule another crossing. If they did, then maybe something like that happens. A signal, asking for a reason to go down to ground level. Dog and Catcher signal they’re going down, dispatch expendable troops, and relay a message, while they think we’re not looking.”

  “They’re working for Fray,” Gordon said.

  I nodded. “And, given who was in their company, I’m not sure the other experiments aren’t either.”

  Previous Next

  Tooth and Nail—7.12

  “I told you to trust me,” I murmured.

  Lillian pulled her arm out of my grasp and hit me.

  “I couldn’t say anything without tipping them off,” I said. “Too many hand signals would’ve been telling, too.”

  “You know they can probably hear you now,” Gordon said.

  “So?” I asked. “They would have realized something was up when Catcher went there and we weren’t knocking on the door. They know we know, and they can’t make another move without being obvious.”

  “Damn it,” Gordon said. “I liked them.”

  “I like them now, no need for past tense,” I said. “They’re good guys. They’re just doing what we’re doing, trying to survive, find the best way forward.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Mary murmured.

  A few distant gunshots sounded. From the direction of it and the answering rumble, I guessed the local cadets and soldiers were trying to steer the Brechwell Beast.

  “This feels like a continuation of last night,” Gordon said.

  I shook my head.

  “You careening around like a stray bullet, ricocheting off surfaces? All the rest of us can do is try to stay out of the way and trust you to bounce in the enemy’s general direction.”

  I shook my head again, watching the building across the open space. “It was eye opening, what Helen said. That I’m mimicking Jamie. I’ve put that on the back shelf. This is pure Sylvester.”

  “Is it now? Because it doesn’t seem like you.”

  “It is me. But Fray has a sense of who I am and how I operate. Think. Right now, what is she doing? What does she want? What does she expect?”

  “Preparing for her massacre,” Mary said, counting on her fingers, “She wants a victory, to get out alive and do that thing with the books, she expects us to make an approach and discuss, and maybe to convince us?”

  “Not victory,” I said. “She wants to prove she’s the person with the answers, ideally by swaying people to her side with her rhetoric. But yes. That’s where she is, her attention is split, even if she had it mostly in hand, she’s going to be stressed and distracted, trying to coordinate. Now she got a short phrase or a note from Catcher, she’s expecting us to be there, and we’re not.”

  “She’ll adapt,” Gordon said.

  “Which requires time, attention, focus!” I said, poking my finger against the glass-littered windowsill to punctuate the three words. “Where are the Lambs right now? Are they elsewhere in the building? Is security good enough? What does she need to do to ensure we don’t derail everything? From now until we show up, if we show up, she’s going to have to second guess everything against us interfering.”

  “Everything you said was just to throw Dog and Catcher off?” Gordon asked.

  “Or whoever the mole was. Half truths,” I said. “Catcher might have noted something about the Lambs using labs and facilities in the building to start a fire and disrupt her group. Is it another ruse, is it possible I got enough info in my visit? Right now, I imagine he’s signaling to Fray. Either a light or gestures that can be seen with binoculars. A simple, crude system, or he wouldn’t have to go down to deliver a note in person. He’d let the people on the wall fill those stitched with bullets.”

  “Okay. Let’s assume you’re right—”

  “I’m right.”

  “We’re running out of time. We’ve been arguing, we aren’t any closer—”
<
br />   “Let me stop you there,” I said. “First off, Lillian, sorry. I had to take a hard stance, or your stubbornness would have derailed our shot at ferreting out the mole.”

  “Uh huh,” she said. She was frowning at me.

  “Gordon. We have two options. Option one, we use the next hour to figure out the key figures in this and we remove them. Shake the box of bugs here, on the perimeter, see what stands out. I don’t think Fray has been talking to each and every person here at this Academy. She would have had to have targeted a few key people, teachers or commanding officers, people who resent the man at the top or who are jaded from the war, much like Mauer, and she turned them.”

  “That’s predicated on a lot of assumptions, Sy,” Mary told me. “There’s nothing guaranteeing you’re even right about the mutiny.”

  “True,” I said. “And we’d be working against the other experiments. Assuming they can hear us, they’d be trying to stop us. If things come down to a he-said, he-said with us and Catcher, I don’t think people are going to listen to the kids. It’s how things work.”

  “What’s option two?” Lillian asked.

  “We signal another drop, we cross over, and we confront Fray,” I said. “Ideally, we do it as close to the deadline as possible.”

  “What?” Lillian asked. “Close to the deadline? When the signal is given?”

  “We just talked about it,” I said. “What did you call me out on?”

  “Time constraints,” she said.

  “Fray created her own time constraint. She wants us to come in. She knows reinforcements are coming in by train. Maybe they’re hers, maybe not, but the time window is small. Now, assuming I’m right, I’ve got her number, my estimation of the situation is on target, soldier turning against soldier, traps going off, whatever else, the safest place for us to be isn’t here. The safest place is there.”

  I pointed at Fray’s building.

  “If your estimation is wrong, that’s the most dangerous place to be.”

  “If she has absolutely no plan, no escape route, no options?” I asked. “Yeah, worst place to be. But a war is about to erupt here, it’s tense enough that Helen’s hair is standing on end—”

 

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