Love and Darkness (The Cause Book 2)

by Randall Farmer

  Ying smiled, a formal, professional smile. “I suspect we will have better success in those negotiations if you’re willing to use some of your Focus capabilities to influence the current owners.”

  “Ah, yes,” Gail said. She caught an amused calculating glance from Ying that reminded her of Sylvie, and she smiled, taking a mental note to make time to get to know Ying better. Gail looked up at the hotel again as the doorman ran to open her door and shook her head. She just couldn’t imagine.

  ---

  “Gail, where do you want the desk?” Daisy asked.

  “Not here,” Gail said. “The desk goes back downstairs to my office, behind reception. Living room and bedroom furniture only up here.”

  “Shit.” John and Daisy put the desk down and wiped sweat from their faces.

  “Not your fault. Gretchen shouldn’t have sent you up here with that.”

  John shook his head. “She didn’t. There was some kind of crisis in the kitchen and she was busy, so we just headed on up.”

  “Well, you get to head back down. Anyone see Gilgamesh?”

  “Not me,” John said. Daisy shook her head. Gail winced. Nobody had seen him in the last two days. No word, no nothing. He was just gone. She was terrified something had happened to him. She had tried to contact Carol, but she remained out of touch. Gail had gotten through to Ying and Tom Delacort, but they didn’t consider Gilgamesh’s disappearance a problem, and refused to disturb Carol.

  “He can take care of himself,” Tom had said.

  Gail clenched her jaw and promised herself that if Gilgamesh disappeared on his own, and hadn’t bothered to tell her, she would have his guts for suspenders for scaring her like this.

  “You setting up his room anyway?” Gail said. “He’s not going to feel safe unless he has his maze.”

  John nodded. “Yup. He’s got the suite just below yours.” Gail’s was on the fourth floor, as close to the center of the hotel as they could manage. Gilgamesh was on the third. Kurt and Sylvie were in the fifth floor suite, Gretchen was on six, the Grimms were on seven, and she was holding the one on eight vacant.

  So much space. Unbelievable. Every couple had a private room, as did every unmarried adult, and the kids were only stuffed two to a room. Even after spreading out they had rooms left over. There was room for everything. Office space, a library, several parlors. The ballroom on the second floor was big enough to hold the entire household in a meeting with room left over. They were even turning one of the meeting rooms into a small gym.

  She got sick when she considered the price, though. Carol was funding this now, but how long would her funding last? Her household could never afford the Branton’s monthly mortgage. They had been living well beyond their means before they left Detroit, after her people got outed. Now here in Chicago, with the entire household unemployed, they couldn’t afford a one-room shack, much less a paradise like this.

  If Carol stopped supporting them, they were doomed. Gail made sure her leadership team recognized this, and a few of her people were out job-hunting already. The rest would start job-hunting tomorrow. They would need to restart their household businesses, such as Trisha’s beauty parlor, with no client base and no loyal customers. Gail was going to be busy doing the necessary Focus arm-twisting. She and her leadership team would start hunting down prospective fallback housing options tomorrow, as well.

  Gail had just finished talking to Carol’s people, getting Beth Hargrove’s gypsy troop situated in the vacant lot next to Littleside. Carol owned the lot for future expansion. Littleside was as good a place as any for Beth’s train of beat-up RVs, campers and trailers. Gail wasn’t exactly sure what Beth’s household would be doing about money, but she suspected it involved moonshine…

  “Too much worry,” Daisy said, sticking her head back in Gail’s living room. “Did you hear anything back from this researcher contact?”

  Gail nodded. Van had snagged Daisy the same way Gail snagged Beth; after the dead Crow episode Daisy didn’t take much convincing. Apparently, Daisy’s continued work at U of M was unofficially contingent on her being able to cough up Gail for their research, something Daisy hadn’t been happy to learn, and she had been worried sick Gail would disown her when she found out. “I’m going to take you over there tomorrow. He’s as flat out brilliant as you are, so no bullshitting. Apparently, he’s looking for someone with a Transform biomechanics background, so I would expect questions in that area.”

  “No bullshit.” Daisy gave Gail a mock salute.

  “I got suborned so easily,” Gail said to Van, her voice low. He slipped his hands around her waist, and she settled back into his arms. “A little money, a little security...”

  “Suborned to what?” Van shrugged. “What other choices could you have made? Wini Adkins and the first Focuses? Despite Adkins’ faults she’s the sanest of the breakout leaders. You don’t want to think about the really warped cases, like Schrum or Fingleman.” He had been to visit both, and both times Gail had needed to use her charisma to put him back together again. “There aren’t a lot of good guys to choose from. You acted in the best interest of the household and preserved a little hope besides. Don’t kick yourself.”

  “You think so?”

  Van didn’t answer, but only kissed her on the top of the head.

  “I love you,” Gail said.

  “Try and remember that when the inevitable occurs and you’re one of the hard case badass Focuses who run things,” Van said.

  Gail snorted. “Well, then, you’re going to need to be the hard case badass spouse. You’re making progress, you and your dark suits, and you’ve nearly perfected the Schuber glare and the…”

  “Gail!” Gretchen came running through the door of Gail’s suite, out of breath and sweating.

  Gail turned away from Van, and sighed for the lost moment of peace. “What is it?”

  “I just got a call from one of Focus Rizzari’s people. Their entire household, including eight moving vans, is on the road, and the woman wanted directions to our household. She thinks they’re moving in with us.”

  Gail blinked.

  Lori Rizzari and Inferno. Moving in.

  She had wondered why Carol thought they needed so much space. Now she understood.

  Gilgamesh: November 7, 1972

  “Truthfully, I’m visiting because Gail’s household is moving from Detroit to Chicago, and they’re all barking at each other,” Gilgamesh said.

  “Awwh, I just think you miss us,” Warden Jane said. She led Gilgamesh toward the dilapidated and termite-infested farmhouse Sinclair’s Barony now called home.

  “How big is this place, anyway?” Gilgamesh asked, as he walked up the creaking porch steps to the door. The ambience was homey and familiar; he guessed he was still a part of the Barony.

  Warden Jane opened the door and let him in. “We’ve got 23 acres of mostly up and down, and we picked it up for a song,” she said. Looking at the farmhouse, Gilgamesh understood why. “Hey, guys, guess who just showed up!”

  Sinclair bounded down the stairs and over to Gilgamesh and gave him a hug and a clap on the back. “Welcome to the new Blue Ridge Barony,” Sinclair said. “The Nobles are out, well, doing something. Running, I guess. How’d you find us?”

  Gilgamesh shrugged. “This is where you are. I just knew. Why here?”

  “The Nobles wanted out of Long Island and closer to the front lines,” Sinclair said. “I would offer you a seat, but as you can tell…”

  The farmhouse contained only one piece of furniture and it sat in the big farmhouse kitchen, a table missing half a leg and propped up by a log. Standard Crow junkyard ambience. “This is Tortoise. He’s our new trainee Crow Master.”

  Tortoise stuck his head around the corner at the top of the stairway and crept on down, slowly, followed by two of the commoner women, Anne and Callie. The stairway creaked and tilted to the right under their weight as the three of them came down the stairs. “Glad to meet you, Guru Gilgamesh,” Tortoi
se said. He was a short bald man with owlish eyes and a stocky build. Two foxes followed the Crow down the stairs, as tame as pet dogs.

  Gilgamesh smiled and waved at the new Crow, someone he had never met before. Clearly a beast-master.

  “You’re feeling nervy, Sinclair, living in this property. I can metasense the ruins of the CDC’s former Transform Research Center from here.” The property overlooked the Chester Gap, at the edge of the Shenandoah National Park. The CDC’s now abandoned property sat six miles away, to the southeast. The former research center still held pockets of years old dross in the shaded areas, hardened into near inertness, a variety Gilgamesh rarely encountered.

  “Perhaps you can,” Sinclair said. “Not me. Too far away.” He sighed. “Ma Bell’s promising they’ll hook up our phone line next week, and we’ll finally be back in contact with the rest of the world. We got the electricity turned on last week.”

  Gilgamesh nodded and smiled. The kitchen appliances consisted of hotplates and a toaster. No running water; that came from a hand-pumped well fifty feet to the west of the farmhouse. The outhouse was thirty feet to the east. He sniffed and smelled coffee and newly cut wood. “You’re working on insulating the upstairs?”

  “Uh huh. I don’t mind roughing it for a while, but I would rather have real walls between me and winter.” Sinclair found a wall in the living room and slid down it to sit on the floor. Gilgamesh planted himself nearby, Warden Jane hovering as usual too close to him. “So, any idea what’s going on between the Arms and the Focuses?”

  “Some,” Gilgamesh said.

  “Did Tiamat talk to you about what’s going on?”

  “She’s said a few things. I would be betraying her confidence if I said too much.”

  “Excellent,” Sinclair said, and smiled.

  “Sinclair?” Gilgamesh said. He frowned. “You’re getting involved in politics again, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. Likely even more politics when the phone’s in.” Beat. “So if Tiamat’s keeping secrets, then she must have secrets worth keeping. From Kali?” Kali, the old Crow nickname for Stacy Keaton. The name fit more than usual these days.

  “Sinclair, I can’t talk about this.”

  “All right, then tell me this. Is Tiamat going to break with Kali?”

  “No.”

  Sinclair paused and studied the ceiling. “That’s unfortunate,” he said. “Going after the first Focuses is fine, but Shadow is convinced Kali won’t stop there, and we would all hate to see Kali try to claim any sort of authority over the Crows. If my understanding of Tiamat’s personality is correct, I can’t believe she’s happy with the direction Kali is going.”

  Gilgamesh shook his head. He had come here to get away from Arm – Focus politics, and fractious Transforms in general. His troubles had apparently followed. “I really can’t say anything, Sinclair.”

  “Tell me, if we were to pass some information to Tiamat, do you think she is required to pass the info directly on to Kali, or do you think she can sit on it for her own uses?” Sinclair said.

  “I think it depends on the information.”

  “So. In that case, I believe I’m going to give you some information that I would like you to pass on to Tiamat.”

  “Is this information she can pass to Kali? Or are you expecting Tiamat to keep the information secret?”

  Sinclair smiled. “Oh, no. This is information Kali already knows. Very well, in fact. Shadow wants Tiamat to know what Kali is doing. Every day, hour by hour, every single thing she does. We’ve got reports on Kali coming in all the time, and we’ll give you a report every day, and you pass it on to her.”

  “Who’s this ‘we’?”

  Sinclair smiled and didn’t answer. Gilgamesh shook his head when he worked out the implications. A few months ago, Shadow sent some of his Crows out on the west coast to spy on Chevalier’s operation, and re-tasking them to follow Kali as well would be easy. Well, not exactly Shadow’s Crows. This sounded like the crazy adventurous Crows Sky hung out with…which, not too long ago, would have included Gilgamesh.

  “What good will this do?” Gilgamesh asked.

  “Maybe nothing. On the other hand, if Tiamat wants to break with Kali, maybe the information will be of some help.”

  “Well, if you want to help her, there is one thing that might help,” Gilgamesh said. “Tiamat is convinced something in the Crow research notes we passed to Kali triggered her change of plans. It would help immensely to get ahold of those notes.”

  “I’ll get Shadow to cough up another copy,” Sinclair said. “Also, when you talk to her next, there’s something else Shadow wants you to pass on to her. Tell her Shadow doesn’t have a position if Kali wants to go after the first Focuses. We don’t support either of them, and we’ll stay out of the fight. If Kali goes after the witches, then we’ll support the witches over Kali. But tell her we’ll support her, Tiamat, over any of the other three.”

  “Shadow will support Tiamat?”

  “Not if she’s a flunky of Kali, because Shadow won’t support Kali. Only if she’s working on her own. Tell her so.”

  Damn. “I’ll tell her.”

  Sinclair motioned to Warden Jane. She stood, went over to a pile of boxes, stacked coats and winter gear, three backpacks and a duffel bag, and picked out a loose-leaf notebook. “This is what we have on Kali so far.”

  Gilgamesh took the notebook from Sinclair. He didn’t bother to open it, far more interested in who had maneuvered him into this visit. The Madonna of Montreal? Shadow? The Progenitors? He decided either of the first two could have nudged him here using the pheromone flow, and considered his latter guess much less likely, as he hadn’t seen anything resembling planning from the barely existing ghosts of the past.

  “So, I heard Newton’s taken up with Focus Hargrove,” Sinclair said. Warden Jane giggled and made naughty naughty finger signs at Sinclair.

  “Uh huh,” Gilgamesh said. Gossip. Someone had maneuvered him all the way out here to gossip. “They’re dating.”

  “Dating?”

  “Dating. Beth’s doing all the asking out, though.”

  “Beth?” Sinclair blinked. “I take it Focus Hargrove is one of those many Focuses you’ve made friends with over the years.”

  Gilgamesh nodded. “Though when I’m not around she doesn’t remember who I am, or that I’m a Crow. Or didn’t. With the mess going on, I think she’s given up on making herself forget with her Focus charisma.”

  “He hasn’t moved in?”

  “I would say he’s about as close to moving in as he’s ever been, which is ‘not’,” Gilgamesh said. “Nor did Beth invite him to move in. They’re both terrified of things blowing up in their faces.”

  Sinclair shrugged. “This is the biggest test case of the Cause at the moment. We’re all watching to see if a normalish Crow like Newton and a normalish Focus like Sparkles can ally.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good test,” Gilgamesh said. “Newton’s had far too many dealings with Focuses in bad situations, because of our housecleaning work. There’s nothing testier than a Focus in a dross-clogged household. The fact that Beth is being reasonable keeps throwing him. Her problem is the years of ‘Crows are the evil enemy’ crap the first Focuses have been shoving down the throats of the standard Focuses. I’m hoping the move to Chicago will shake her out of her mental rut. If not…” Gilgamesh shrugged.

  “We’ve got to do better at getting Crows and Focuses together,” Sinclair said. Gilgamesh nodded and shook his head. So, Sinclair, where’s your Focus? “At least we have three working examples, though nobody’s going to call Inferno or Charade ordinary households.”

  “Gail and I aren’t there, yet,” Gilgamesh said. He sighed. “Household tuning’s got both of us running scared.” He wondered if Gail knew Focus Ackerman. It sounded like Flo and Orange Sunshine had made progress on household tuning. Knowing someone else had succeeded would help.

  “I understand,” Sinclair said. “Sky and
Lori practically had to live with them to get the tuning set up properly.”

  Or, perhaps not.

  Gail Rickenbach: November 9, 1972

  “Focus Rizzari! You made it!” Gail said, as she greeted the intimidating Focus in the Branton foyer. At least Focus Rizzari wasn’t wearing her black cloak. Five in the morning, and Rizzari’s people appeared worn and rumpled from driving all night.

  Rizzari blinked at the hotel foyer, with its high ceiling and open lobby. She didn’t say a word, and she didn’t change expression, but she looked.

  Heh, Gail thought to herself, pleased by the impressive show of her new home.

  “We need to talk. Privately,” Rizzari said.

  “If you’ve followed the politics, then you realize the importance of being able to pass juice to Carol. Since you’re going to need more training than Carol is able to provide, I moved with my household to Chicago to take over your training,” Rizzari said. They sat in the living room of Gail’s suite, a respectable place to entertain a high-ranking Focus guest. Sylvie had appointed Vera Bracken as household decorator after the move, who made Gail’s old furniture vanish, replaced by far more elegant pieces. No more pine plank and cinderblock bookshelves.

  Gail did her best not to give her thoughts away, but her mind whirled anyway. Politics put Focus Rizzari on the other side of the current conflict. Gail had her own rather forceful opinions about the importance of her project, but a senior Focus moving her entire household to Chicago to train her was an entirely different thing.

  “What kind of training?” Gail said. She kept hold of her emotions with her charisma. Although she had won over Rizzari three months ago, enough had changed to make the powerful Focus feel foreign to her again. Gail didn’t want any repetitions of the Lady Death episodes from the first visit.

  Rizzari studied her carefully and then nodded. A gesture of respect, maybe, for Gail’s control? Gail couldn’t tell for sure.

  “First, Polly’s given permission for me to teach you to draw juice from your buffer. Afterwards, I’m going to help you with the juice pattern project and anything else that seems necessary.”