The Song of the Orphans

by Daniel Price

  “I understand that you’re angry,” Theo told the Gothams. “You have every reason to be. I can’t even give you a moral argument for saving these people. All I can tell you is that Integrity isn’t going away. A door’s been opened that can’t be closed, and we’re all going to have to live with them.”

  Theo looked up and grimaced at the sickly sight of his doppelgänger. Of all the days to become a big floating head . . .

  “I’ve looked to the future and I see good things,” he said. “Everyone behind this invasion will be held responsible for their actions, and the agency will fall under new management. Better management. We’ll have a new arrangement with the U.S. government that’ll give us full freedom and protection. More than that, Integrity will help us with our biggest problem, the one that affects every life on this planet. They’ll work day and night to help us stop what’s coming. We need them.”

  Twenty feet below his specter, in the half-wrecked crest of the clock tower, Amanda and Melissa fluttered back into consciousness. They stared up at Theo in a moony haze, unsure if he had grown or they had shrunk.

  “But if we kill anyone else, it’ll all come undone,” Theo cautioned. “So we have to find each and every one of these people, heal the ones who are hurt, and then send them out through portals. I know you don’t like it, but it’s the only way forward. Our future depends on it. Please.”

  Theo gestured at Harold. The lumic transmission ended. He watched from the roof with bated breath as Heath’s tempic men brought the wounded soldiers into the square. Theo half expected the Gothams to ignore him and start hacking the men to pieces.

  But no one made a single move against them. The healers in the square traded nervous looks, then began relieving the soldiers from Heath’s men.

  Holy shit, Theo thought. They’re doing it. They listened to me.

  Jun Lee had told him just minutes before that even a false messiah had power. He was right.

  Two hundred yards away, in a narrow alley off Temperance Street, Mia and Carrie stared up at the sky. They had just reunited when Theo began his Wizard of Oz impression. The moment he vanished, Carrie pulled Mia into a hug.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Carrie looked at the alcove at the end of the alley. Though her father remained unconscious, a healthy color had returned to his skin. His chest rose and fell steadily.

  “Semerjean,” Carrie said. “He wouldn’t just save my dad like that. You made him do it.”

  Mia lowered her head with a maudlin expression.

  “What happened?” Carrie asked. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I just . . .”

  She was so upset, she could barely speak. Hardly a minute had passed since Semerjean left her. His very last words had left her thoroughly wrecked.

  “It’s Zack,” Mia said. “Esis is gonna kill him.”

  Carrie gasped. “Oh no!”

  “He’s down below somewhere. I have to find him!”

  “Mia . . .” Carrie grabbed her by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I know those tunnels inside and out. There’s a hatch right here in the library.”

  Mia wiped her eyes. “You should stay with your dad.”

  “You already helped him. This is where I help you.”

  “Carrie—”

  “Look, I’m not just doing it because I owe you. I like Zack.”

  She cupped the side of Mia’s face. “And I love you.”

  It felt like the guiltiest indulgence of Mia’s life, to share a kiss with her girlfriend while Zack was in trouble. But she was fourteen, she was in love, and the day hadn’t destroyed her yet. She was alive. She was alive and Carrie was alive, and for a single moment, everything in the universe felt right again. Even the Pelletiers had their place in the great cosmic scheme, and Mia was okay with that. More than okay, actually. She knew in her heart that Semerjean was the only one who could save Zack from Esis. All Mia had to do was convince him.

  She stroked Carrie’s hair, then flicked a finger at the wall. “I love you too.”

  A six-foot portal opened up on the brickface. Mia clasped Carrie’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  There were a hundred and fifteen storage vaults in the tunnels, most of them filled with emergency supplies. Some had been converted into special purpose rooms. Others had devolved into miniature junkyards. The Gothams were free to leave their unwanted items anywhere. There was no mayor of the under-underland.

  Deep in the northeast corner, directly below the vivery, was a storage room filled exclusively with mirrors. They’d been stashed there by the hundreds: wall mirrors, door mirrors, hand mirrors, car mirrors, antique mirrors with gilded frames, cheap novelty mirrors with funny messages on them. They leaned against the walls in dusty stacks, every one of them cracked or deformed in some fashion.

  If Mercy had been awake, and if she’d cared enough to explain it, she would have told Zack that the turners once used those mirrors for reversal practice, as silver glass was notoriously difficult to rejuvenate. The guildhall had become so cluttered with warped mirrors that they were forced to move them to the undercellar. No one had set foot in the vault since 1998, when Lucas Rall and Shelby Tam came down there for an art project and ended up conceiving their son Duncan.

  For Zack, who’d spent more than enough time being surrounded by mirrors, there was no worse place to stop. But he was lost in the tunnels and the woman in his arms was only getting heavier. He had little choice but to set Mercy down until she woke up.

  If she woke up.

  Zack lifted her arm and checked her pulse again. It had been two minutes since he healed her dying body. Though her shotgun wound had become nothing but a memory, her breathing was still labored. Her eyelids fluttered like she was lost in a bad dream. Was this a temporary side effect, or did he completely botch the job?

  Doesn’t matter, he supposed. Esis will be here any second.

  He sat against a mirror and held Mercy’s hand. It seemed a perfectly awful time to realize what a good thing he had going with her. She was funny and clever and strange in all the right ways, and she had genuine feelings for him. But he couldn’t let go of Amanda and he couldn’t let go of his pride. He had to live his life on his own terms, or at least pretend that he was. And what did he get for his bold defiance? What the hell did it earn him?

  Every mirror in the room flickered as a glowing white portal opened up in midair. Zack jumped to his feet, his wide eyes fixed on Esis as she stepped through the surface.

  She had clearly done some healing over the last few minutes. Her cuts and contusions had all but vanished, and she once again walked like a healthy woman. The only lingering sign of damage was a shuddering twitch in her eyes, as if the wires in her brain were still being mended. Rebel had certainly done a number on her. Zack could see from the wet, dripping blood on her fingers that she’d already paid him back in spades.

  “Damn,” Zack said. “Guess you won.”

  Esis crossed the gap between them, uncomplacent, unamused. From the looks of her, she was done gloating, done bantering, done toying with her prey. She was done with Zack Trillinger and all his smarmy back talk.

  But if he could trouble her just one last time . . .

  “L’ua tolla shii hoh-no kiesse,” he said.

  Esis stopped in place, confused. “What?”

  Zack had no idea what he’d said to her. He’d heard Esis yell it at Azral once, and he remembered all the syllables. He knew he only had one shot at surviving: to distract the hell out of Esis, and then rift her twisted heart.

  He channeled all of his temporis into his right hand, then thrust it at her chest. It had been a Hail Mary move on his part, a rather futile one at that. He could feel his energy bouncing off of her, like water against a wall. Esis had come here with the express purpose of killing him. Of course she’d be p
repared for his power.

  Zack’s heart hammered as she moved within arm’s length. A part of him wanted to beg for Mercy, but he knew that would go as well as his temporal attack. His stubborn ego demanded he go out with a zinger, but he couldn’t find anything even remotely funny to say.

  “You’ll never get what you’re looking for,” Zack told her. “You’ll die on this world.”

  If Esis was thrown or even bothered by his insolence, she didn’t show it. She merely pressed a finger to his neck. He winced in anticipation of the cool, hard tempis that would be tearing through his throat.

  “Ma’nétta,” Esis hissed. “And good riddance.”

  “Wait.”

  Zack opened his eyes to see Semerjean emerge from the portal, a large armored figure slung over his shoulder.

  Rebel, Zack realized. Is he still alive?

  Esis turned around and eyed her husband balefully. “Don’t try to dissuade me. That time is long past.”

  “I just want a minute,” Semerjean insisted. “After that, he’s all yours.”

  Rebel woke up on Semerjean’s shoulder, then began thrashing in protest. His skin was covered in welts and gashes. Blood seeped from his shattered nose. The man had been out of his depth against one Pelletier. He’d never stood a chance against two.

  The moment Semerjean threw him to the ground, Rebel rolled onto his back and pulled a .44 pistol out of his holster. Semerjean lashed out with a tempic tendril, knocking the gun into the hallway and breaking two of Rebel’s fingers in the process.

  “All right, Richard.”

  He lifted Rebel by the neck, then shoved him against a wall. A thick stack of mirrors came crashing to the floor.

  “That’s quite enough.”

  He ran a tempic spike through Rebel’s shoulder, pinning him to the wall.

  “Stay there, please. I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

  Semerjean closed the portal behind him, then took a somber look at Zack. “So here we are.”

  “Here we are,” Zack echoed. “You fucking asshole.”

  “Yes. I’ve already received my fair share of invective from Mia.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. The danger has passed.”

  “Good.” Zack gestured at Mercy. “I suppose I can’t convince you—”

  “No.” Semerjean stooped to examine her. “Without you, she has no value to us. Quite the opposite. She’s disrupted our work one too many times, and would disrupt it again in the future.”

  He looked to Zack with a softer expression. “But I’ll give her a quick death and I’ll wait until after you’re gone. I owe you that much.”

  Zack balled his hands into trembling fists. He had to fight to keep from screaming.

  “I warned you,” Semerjean said. “I’d told you for months that you were on a fatal course, but you didn’t listen.”

  Esis frowned at her husband. “Nor did you, when I told you this was inevitable.”

  Semerjean scoffed. “As you can see, Zack, your situation has caused some friction in our marriage. When it comes to you Silvers, we rarely agree. I want Evan dead. She prefers him alive. She wants you dead. I still think you can be useful to us.”

  He shrugged his shoulders before pacing the floor. “But there are only so many times I can plead your case, and so many times you can undermine my faith in you.”

  “L’ua tolla shii hoh-no kiesse,” Esis said with droll humor.

  Semerjean nodded glumly. “You threw those words at my wife without knowing what they mean. Would you like me to tell you?”

  Zack crossed his arms and turned away. “I really don’t give a flying—”

  “It means ‘The time has come to mourn his passing.’”

  “Christ.” Zack chuckled bitterly. “That’s even dumber than I’d thought it would be.”

  “You brought this on yourself.”

  “You brought this on me! If you didn’t want us ‘entwining’ with each other, you shouldn’t have made us coed. You shouldn’t have put me with Amanda at all! Where’s your goddamn foresight?”

  Esis snorted vindictively at her husband. “At last, he speaks sense.”

  Semerjean ignored her. “You remember the first words I ever said to you?”

  “Which you?”

  “The day I gave you your bracelet.”

  Zack lowered his head, indignant. He had moments to live. He didn’t need to go delving through old traumatic memories. “‘Any other weekend, you’d be one of the Golds.’”

  Semerjean nodded. “That’s right. It was always our plan to put you with the New York group. But the crucial day came and we were faced with a last-minute vacancy in the Silvers. You just happened to be in San Diego, attending that silly convention.” He threw his hands up. “My wife foresaw the conflict. I promised her I’d keep you and Amanda under control.”

  He walked the floor in circles, crunching mirror shards beneath his shoes. “I’ve made mistakes, Zack, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you. You charged into this with your eyes wide open.”

  Zack followed him with fierce gray eyes. “‘The time has come to mourn his passing.’”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “How do you say it for seven billion people?” Zack asked. “How did you say it when you destroyed my world?”

  “Zhii-tah no-ma!” Furious, Esis thrust a tempic tendril at him. Semerjean stopped it before the bladed tip could impale him.

  She eyed her husband hotly. “Se’tel nu’hassa mé?”

  “Mei’tel la’dassa nüe.” Semerjean looked to Zack with downcast eyes. “That was an unintended consequence.”

  “But not unforeseen,” Zack guessed. “You damn well knew that people would die.”

  “The technology we used was brand-new. Unprecedented. If Azral had two or three more decades to perfect it, our travels would have been gentler. But we didn’t have that kind of time.”

  Zack shook his head, his voice cracked with strain. “Two whole worlds. Billions of futures thrown away, and for what? So you could make a couple of mutant babies?”

  “You know nothing,” Esis snapped. “Two Earths are nothing in the infinite spectrum. A minuscule sacrifice.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re everything to us.”

  Zack peeked into a mirror and saw Rebel struggling against the wall. He was using his prosthetic hand to fumble for something on his vest: a black metal tube with a pull pin at the top.

  Amazing, Zack thought. He never gives up. Never stops fighting.

  He turned back to his captors. “Guess I’ll die without ever understanding you people.”

  Semerjean sighed at the floor. “I tried explaining to Mia. She didn’t understand.”

  “Of course not,” Zack said. “You broke her heart.”

  “I never meant to.”

  “That’s because you don’t understand us. You’ve been so focused on the big picture that you can’t even see what you did to us. You destroyed our world, changed the rules of the universe, and then put us in constant danger. And you have the nerve—”

  “Zack . . .”

  “You have the nerve to act surprised when we got too close to each other. You did that!”

  Semerjean rolled his eyes. “For Heaven’s sake . . .”

  “You made us a family when you took away everything!”

  “Just stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  Semerjean threw a tendril over his shoulder and snatched Rebel’s grenade. He dissolved it in a fist of mortis.

  “Richard, Richard, Richard. Why do you persist?”

  “Because you killed everyone he ever loved,” Zack said. “What did you think he’d do?”

  The Pelletiers ignored Zack and approached Rebel in unison. Seme
rjean grabbed him by the scalp and lifted his head into eye contact.

  “Zack may be annoying, but I respect him. When Amanda’s not around, he thinks very clearly. He adapts to his circumstances, puts aside his vendettas for the greater good. How else could you have gotten him to cooperate with you?”

  “But you,” Esis said, “you’re incorrigible. You show no more thought than an avalanche.”

  Though Rebel shot a murderous look at his enemies, he didn’t make a sound. Zack could only guess from the skewed alignment of his mouth that his jaw had been shattered.

  Semerjean yanked Rebel from the wall and dangled him by the nape of his neck. “I can’t lie. I was really looking forward to killing you today. But then you went and did something interesting.”

  Esis conjured an image of an old, rusty revolver, the same one Zack had used to break her force field. “There’s advanced machinery inside this weapon, alien to us. I can only assume that the Lady Deschane is still aiding you in your struggle.”

  “No doubt,” Semerjean said. “And that’s bad news for you, Richard, because we have plans for that woman. You’re going to help us draw her out of hiding.”

  Rebel made a guttural sound, the closest he could come to cursing.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Semerjean said. “We don’t need your cooperation. We only need you to stay alive and suffer. She’ll do the rest.”

  “If she cares,” Esis added.

  “If she cares,” Semerjean repeated. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  He opened a new portal in the middle of the room.

  “We already have a cell for you. I’m afraid it won’t be very comfortable.”

  Esis gave him a crooked smile. “But you will have time to reflect.”

  Zack’s stomach dropped. He struggled to channel his power. Esis and Semerjean were immune to his temporis, but Rebel wasn’t. All it would take was a rifted heart to spare him the torture of the mirror room. The man had suffered enough already. It was time for him to rest.