by Myke Cole
‘What? No!’
‘Relax, babe. I’m not the jealous type. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘I just . . . I got waylaid on my way to lunch.’
‘Sounds like it was one hell of a fight. You’re practically panting.’
‘Are you meeting with Crucible today? I really need to talk to him.’
‘Why? Is something going on with the program? With the test subject?’
‘Will you stop interrogating me?’
‘Sure, just as soon as I get the answers I want. Did your command kill the project?’
‘No, no. The Army is fine . . . can we please just . . .’
‘Not the government then. Someone from the outside? A private entity?’
Harlequin stammered, his natural instinct against deceit warring with his instinct to take time and think the matter through.
Grace’s voice went cold. ‘Entertech.’
Harlequin’s sudden silence was more damning than his words.
‘It was Hicks, wasn’t it? That fucker. Whatever he told you is shit. He’s been dogging my heels ever since I founded Channel.’
‘You’d make one hell of an interrogator.’
‘And you’d make a lousy spy. You couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it.’
Embarrassment stilled Harlequin’s tongue.
‘Don’t get your panties in a bunch,’ Grace said. ‘I’m not going to tell anyone. I should have warned you that Hicks’d come sniffing around.’
‘Grace, how did he know?’
‘You think the government has the market cornered on spying? Corporations do it, too, Jan. We do it more, and we do it better. I’m sure Entertech has moles inside my organization. They made an offer to buy the project out of nowhere a few months back and were none too pleased when I refused to sell. It’s not about making money for me, and never was. What did he say?’
‘Not much. Just a lot of BS about how weird it was that you started a pharmaceutical company after doing finance for so long.’
‘My God, what a dick.’ Grace sounded furious.
‘If you talk to Crucible, tell him I’ve been trying to reach him.’
‘Don’t mention this to him.’
‘What? Why? He needs to know. Maybe he can help root these . . .’
‘Trust me on this, Jan. He’s a nice guy and all, but this is private stuff. I can’t have the government getting involved. There’s a lot at stake here.’
‘Like what?’
‘Just . . . don’t worry about it, Jan. Leave it, please. There’s nothing Crucible can do anyway.’
The phone started to beep, he held it briefly away from his ear to see who was calling.
‘Grace, it’s Crucible. Let me go, I have to talk to him.’
‘Don’t tell him! I’m serious, Jan. This is a private concern of mine and the Channel corporation, and it’s not to go any further than us.’
‘I have to go, Grace. I’ll call you tonight.’
Grace was yelling as he switched over to Crucible’s call. ‘Sir.’
‘Sir?’ Crucible laughed. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah, just . . .’ Harlequin paused. He felt Hicks’s card in his pocket, heard Grace yelling in his ear.
‘Jan? What did you call me for? What’s going on?’ Crucible asked.
Harlequin’s vision filled with Grace’s sleeping form, tangled up in a blanket on her office couch, his arm wrapped around her slender shoulders.
‘Jan?’ Moonlight passing through the window, dusting her hair.
‘Nothing, si . . .’ Harlequin had said before he knew it. ‘It’s nothing.’
Chapter Thirteen
What’s A Traitor?
Magic is possibly the most disruptive force in history. Governments exist because they meet the technological and security needs of their citizenry. They provide access to public transportation, critical utilities, a medical system. They provide police and firefighters, airports and roads. The simplest things: light, heat, healing, food, are all nearly impossible to obtain without working inside a government structure. But just one Sorcerer from each legal school can provide all of these things, and more besides. Why live under the yoke of a government if you don’t have to?
– John ‘Little Bear’ Inoa
Magic and God’s Plan for Us All
The barricade walls around the park came into view and with them, the Gahe. Harlequin could see them just beyond the churning mix of goblins and giants, arms folded, stark, white-knife smiles shining from the unbroken black surface of their bodies. The shimmering pulses of air moved between them, their variant of speech.
Downer was right. He missed her elementals here, but if this position fell, they’d lose their foothold on the island and the ability to divide Scylla’s forces. If the barricades fell, all of New York City would lie open to the enemy.
He radioed fire control. ‘Acc. Acc. Harlequin. Inbound from the north. Check your fire. I say again, check your fire.’
The RTO sounded tired. ‘Roger that, sir. We were getting worried here. Colonel Hewitt has been looking for you.’
‘Put him through.’
Hewitt’s voice buzzed through the commlink, reluctant. ‘Well, you said you wanted to hear any big news directly. Come on down.’
Harlequin was surprised to find himself irritated. He wanted to take some time to check on the wall, wanted to keep an eye on the gathering Gahe and the shaking Fornax Novices, wanted a minute to sit and think of a way to convince the Limpiados to help. He sighed. The truth was that he wanted to keep an eye on everything at once. He couldn’t do that, and as much as he didn’t want to share command with Hewitt, he needed him.
He switched channels back to the RTO. ‘The Gahe . . .’
‘Roger that, sir. We’ve got eyes on.’
‘You buzz me the minute they move.’
‘Wilco, sir.’
‘Sergeant Major Knut . . . is . . .’
‘She’s fine, sir. She’s in the motor pool. Nobody’s touched her.’
‘Thanks, Harlequin out.’
He floated over the wall and walked the rest of the way to Castle Clinton, giving himself the extra few minutes to gather his thoughts.
Hewitt met him in the ready room, his face worn, dark circles under his eyes. Is that how I look? How we all look?
As Hewitt’s eyes widened, Harlequin realized that he looked a good deal worse.
‘Jesus,’ Hewitt breathed. ‘What the hell happened to you?’
‘I made a pit stop. Didn’t work out so well.’
‘I thought you were checking out the barricades?’
‘I was. That didn’t work out so well either.’
‘You got ambushed.’
Harlequin nodded. ‘Goblins. Selfer saved my life.’
Hewitt scowled. ‘Great. One more fucking thing to deal with.’
‘One more opportunity to get the help we need. And the best kind of help. Looks like there’s a cell of the Limpiados in Chinatown.’
Hewitt’s blank stare told Harlequin the man had no idea what he was talking about, and if he knew Hewitt at all, was far too proud to ask.
‘I’m talking about the Limpiados branch of Los Zetas. They’re a branch of the Mexican Zeta drug cartel,’ Harlequin said. ‘They’re a real political force in Mexico now, with hopes of having a voice in government. They’ve already got a few seats in the Chamber of Deputies. The Zetas have embraced Selfers for ages now, but they’ve put them underground to avoid public scrutiny. It’s an open secret.’
‘There are a lot of them?’ Hewitt asked.
‘We don’t know. That’s something we’ve been trying to determine for a long time. They’re not easy to pin down. They’re called the flushed people
because they live in the sewers. They’re dug in worse than the Houston Street Gang ever was. And with the . . . entrepreneurial spirit of Mexican law enforcement and the incredible power of the Zetas, getting a head count isn’t exactly easy. Customs and Border Patrol drew heavily on their SOC liaisons in that fight, but since they legalized pot, things calmed down a whole lot.’
‘No, I mean here.’
‘I have no idea. I only saw the one, but if they’re managing to keep four New York City blocks clear of the enemy, I’d guess there are more where he came from.’
‘We could call Dix, get an airstrike.’
Harlequin swallowed his anger. ‘We’re done with airstrikes. There are civilians all over this city. More importantly, we need their help. The man who found me was a Physiomancer. I’d be dead if he hadn’t saved me. They’re fighting Scylla, and that makes them a potential ally.’
‘But they’re criminals . . .’
‘So’s Sarah Downer. You want me to send her back to jail?’
‘This is different, and you know it. Downer’s one of ours.’
‘We sure as hell didn’t treat her that way.’
‘You can’t do this . . .’
‘We don’t have a choice! Jesus, sir, do you not see what’s unfolding around us? We don’t have the magic to fight this fight. We’re going to fucking lose. I’m not going to . . .’
‘Wait. Just wait. Listen to the news I have for you first, then make a decision.’
Harlequin felt hope surge in him, tried to keep the tremor from his voice.
‘So, this news of yours is big?’
‘Yup.’
‘Big, good? Please tell me it’s big good.’
Hewitt only pointed to the monitor, which was lighting up with black-and-white imagery. Harlequin could tell it was from an overhead satellite. Grainy gray waves flowed over black sheets dotted with white. Harlequin squinted. He’d seen images like this, and had never had trouble at least getting a basic read on it at a glance. He blinked, tried to shake off the exhaustion. ‘So, what am I looking at?’ he asked, part of him reluctant to admit he couldn’t tell and part of him too tired to care.
‘That’ – Hewitt pointed to a dark patch – ‘is Franklin Mountain State Park.’
Hewitt moved to a patch of light. Harlequin blinked again, and it came into focus. A city. ‘That’s . . . this is Texas?’
Hewitt nodded. ‘That’s Fort Bliss. Ever been there?’
‘No. Hood. I did an LNO tour there once.’
‘Okay, well it rolls right up to the border, and Mexico is on the other side. Ciudad Juarez.’
‘And what’s all that?’ Harlequin swept his fingertips over a swath of dots and blotches spilling out from the city and into the countryside. Flashes of white and gray moved across the rocky line of the US-Mexican border. ‘Looks like troops.’
‘It is,’ Hewitt said. ‘Near as I can tell, it’s the entire fucking Mexican Army.’
Harlequin blinked again. ‘Outside of Distrito Federal? The cartels will take over the country.’
‘Something’s got them more worried than the cartels, apparently.’
Harlequin’s heart leapt. ‘They’re moving on Mescalero. They’re going to help.’
Hewitt shook his head. ‘I’m not an imagery expert, but I’ve worked with them. See those lines? Those tanks are digging in. Looks like the infantry are setting up scrapes. They’re spread out, grenade sumps. DFPs.’
Defensive fighting positions, the work of an army that had no intention of going anywhere.
‘They’re securing the border. Trying to make sure the conflict doesn’t spill over.’
Hewitt sighed. ‘Looks like it.’
Harlequin bit his lip. ‘Ah, hell. I knew that would be the case anyway. I wasn’t expecting them to get in the fight.’
Harlequin sat in one of the metal folding chairs, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. It was a fight to open them again. When he did, he found that Hewitt had set a supersized energy drink in front of him. The twenty-two-ounce can bore red lettering advertising EXTRA CAFFEINE! over its silver surface.
‘Thanks,’ Harlequin said. ‘Not sure how much longer we can subsist on those. We need rack time.’
‘Rough on all of us,’ Hewitt said. ‘Anyway, there’s some potentially good news.’
‘Does this good news have anything to do with us getting some sleep?’
Hewitt smiled. ‘Depends on how you look at it.’ He handed Harlequin a piece of paper. Harlequin cracked the seal on the energy drink, took a few swallows, and sat staring at the paper for a few moments before he realized that he wasn’t reading it. He blinked, looked up at Hewitt.
‘This is in French.’
‘Yup.’
‘And neither of us read French.’
‘Actually, I do, but there’s translated text on the other side.’
‘Sir, respectfully? I am too fucking tired to turn this paper over.’
Hewitt smiled again. ‘I think Canada couldn’t make a move, but it looks like they pulled some strings with sovereign Quebec. I did my one attaché tour with them. They’re pretty badass in the arcane theater.’
‘The . . . Winter Wolves, right?’
‘Loup-Garous. You’ve never seen Terramancers like this.’
‘You mean Whisperers.’
Hewitt shrugged. ‘You put Sarah Downer on Barricade One. I guess I’ve had to make my peace with that.’
‘She put herself there. That little girl is turning out to be a fucking force of nature.’
‘Well, either way, she’s running around in front of every TV camera in the city, so I’m sure the world is getting an eyeful of Probe magic right about now.’
‘Any word from Gatanas on that?’
‘Not yet.’
‘So, no airstrikes, right?’
Hewitt paused for a long time, his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. At last he nodded. When he finally spoke, his voice was halting. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think you did the right thing in putting her in the fight. They’d have broken through by now if it weren’t for her elementals.’
‘They may still break through.’
‘Not if the Loup-Garous get every rat, spider, roach, and pigeon still left in the city crawling up the enemy’s backfield. Your trip to the UN bore fruit. Requesting the help from Gatanas was a good call.’
Harlequin blinked again. The caffeine, taurine, and sugar were already beginning to do their work.
‘Who are you and what have you done with Colonel Hewitt?’ he asked.
Hewitt laughed. ‘Yeah, well. You’ve made some stupid moves, too. I’m just getting the truth said and out. Don’t make it harder than it already is.’
Now it was Harlequin’s turn to pause. ‘You still think I’m a traitor, sir?’ he finally asked.
Hewitt sighed and slumped into the chair opposite Harlequin, thrusting his hands into his pockets. ‘I was pretty pissed off when I heard you were coming. I was excited to get in this fight, but I didn’t want to work with you.’
‘Sucks pretty bad, huh? I don’t even like working with me.’
‘Yeah, well. Working the Breach Zone has . . . given me some perspective.
‘Look, everyone knows the facts of why you did what you did, that you broke Britton out to try to save the people on FOB Frontier. I think what pisses people off is that a lot of folks think there were other ways to get it done. And . . . people died in the process.’
Harlequin rubbed his forehead. ‘I live with that every day. A lot more people would have died if I’d let those people stop me.’
Hewitt looked at the ceiling. ‘That’s what I tell myself. I also . . . what you did for Knut. You really looked out for her. She wasn’t even one of yours, and you went
to the mat for her. I guess, watching this thing here unfold, it’s shown me that sometimes . . . events run away with you. You were academy?’
‘ROTC.’ Harlequin held up his hand, spreading his fingers to show the lack of an academy ring.
‘I did West Point. They talked a lot about hard calls there, about how when the chips were down, you’d have to make snap decisions and be held to account for your judgment later.’
‘ROTC was the same.’
‘Well, I guess the thing is that they talked a lot about it. Then, you get out into the field, and the hardest call you have to make is whether or not to write up an admin punishment for some dickhead specialist who got drunk and reported late. They don’t talk about calls like this. Fate of millions of people in your hands. The regs pushing you up against the wall. No time to think about it.
‘When you first said you were going to put Downer in the fight, I about freaked, but that barricade is holding thanks to her, maybe even the whole line. That’s something. So, yeah, it kind of makes the Loup-Garous seem like small potatoes, especially when the only thing between us and the Gahe out there are these Novices zipping around the wall.’
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Harlequin said.
Hewitt met Harlequin’s eyes. ‘You disobeyed orders. You freed a prisoner. Sure. You’re a traitor. But I’m not so sure what that means anymore.’
They were quiet for a long time after that. Harlequin finally broke the silence. ‘So, let me guess. You want me to wait for them.’
‘It’s a safer bet than teaming up with Selfers.’
‘Not if they don’t show up in time.’
‘Give them a day. We can hold for a day. If we don’t have word by then . . .’
‘Will they honestly be here in a day?’
‘No ETA yet. They say there are some logistical concerns. A little more wrangling needs to happen higher up.’
Harlequin tugged on his chin. ‘We can’t count on that, sir. We have to assume they’ll never get here. The SOC, too. I’m going to go to the other cleared zone.’
‘Jesus. Will you just wait? Just one day for chrissakes.’
‘We don’t have time.’
‘They won’t help us anyway. You said it didn’t work out with the Limpiados.’