“Big promise,” Harry says. “You think it’s a smart thing to let her in on it?”
I shrug. There’s the obvious conclusion that if the Council really doesn’t like what’s going on, they’ll end her, my friends, and anyone they even think I provided the information to. But… “She’s a big girl.”
Harry shrugs, seeming sufficiently settled. I guess he’s used to seeing adults throw themselves into seemingly dumb situations. Taking risks that others would decline because that’s just the way it goes. At a certain point, you have to accept that risk is part and parcel of the job description and stop worrying about it.
“You didn’t tell us what they thought of John’s brilliant plan,” Ali says, sipping on a drink-cum-meal via a bendy straw that injects a portion of the meal’s taste as it passes through.
“Katherine wasn’t thrilled,” Mikito says. “But she’ll take it to Rob.”
“And he’ll release the information?” When they look up, I clarify, “If he decides to do it.”
Mikito shrugs.
I frown. “He shouldn’t. He should be using… well, a patsy.”
“Us, you mean,” Harry says.
“Well, you.” I grin at the reporter and he rolls his eyes. But I’m surprised to note there’s a level of uncertainty in there too. “Problem?”
“This isn’t breaking just any story. This isn’t even news reporting, not really. It’s weaponized information,” Harry says. The man has a very large slab of meat, still raw and bloody, sitting on his plate, being delicately sliced with knife and fork. Next to it, carefully set aside, is a small, colorful handful of greens—well, yellows and purples. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of using the news like that.”
Huh. I would have thought it was the target being painted on his back. Then again, Harry’s always been a little more moral than smart. “Fair enough. Doesn’t sound like he’s going to use us anyway.”
“He probably has others,” Ali says.
When we look at him, the Spirit shrugs, having traded for another soupy dish which he uses a tureen spoon on. Small, floating chunks of meat that still squirm and reach can be seen in the soup as he pops the entire, so-cold-it’s-smoking ladle into his mouth.
We aren’t the only players in the Galactic scene these days. And as a World Ruler, Rob has his own contacts. Maybe he uses a group that does things like this, or maybe he uses another human team. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m overthinking things.
But for now, there’s not a lot we can do but wait. Which, I’m finding, is an extremely uncomfortable place to be in.
We sit, we eat, and we do that in silence. When the meal is nearly done, when we’ve cleared the majority of the plates and another of my doppelgangers has died, Ali speaks up.
“You going to tell them?”
I glare at the Spirit, angry he’s pushed me to speak when I would prefer to be silent. At least for a little while more. But the threads of the doppelgangers in my mind, the missing one weighs upon me. Telling me that what we’re outnumbered, outplayed, and no matter how much we hide, what we’ve done, all our efforts are worthless. They know we’re here.
“The Council. Or the Administrators at least. They’ve left me a message,” I said. “An address.”
My words cause a stir, one that has Harry and Mikito shifting uncomfortably and offering me suspicious looks. I can only offer a half-shrug in apology for the length of time I’ve taken to speak.
“You going?” Mikito says.
I nod.
“When?”
“You’re not coming,” I say.
“I’m not letting you go alone, you bakayaro!”
I shake my head again. “It’s not your call. Where I’m going… you can’t enter.”
She frowns before shifting tactics. “Then I’ll go as far as I can.”
“Mikito…”
She crosses her arms, daring me to push it further. I meet her stubborn gaze, and I find myself at another crossroads. One of trust. Because I could sneak out, but loyalty, trust, belief… it’s a double-edged weapon. What is given must be returned, or one day, the well will run dry.
“Fine.” I turn to Harry, who snorts.
“I’d love to, but I think I’ll get this news later.” Harry chuckles ruefully at my incredulous look. “The juicy bit is in the room, and if I can’t get in, I don’t think it matters if I get the news five minutes or five hours later. And you’re probably also going to want me on the outside as insurance, no?”
I half-shrug. In truth, I’d considered it, but I wasn’t going to presume. Asking him to release what I know, to cover my bases, to let the galaxy know, it’s more than presumptuous.
“I thought so,” Harry says. “How many days do I have to set up the news release?”
“Eleven hours, four minutes, and thirteen seconds.”
“Well, isn’t that accurate,” Harry drawls, but I see the worry in his eyes.
And I get it. Because the countdown in my vision, the one that has refused to disappear ever since I received the address and invitation, continues to tick ever so slowly.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Chapter 16
An empty alleyway, shrouded in the shadows of the buildings that loom above it and bereft of light even from the main streets. In the middle of the night, the dark passageway offers no illumination but for the single, hovering light spell I sent ahead of us. Unlike a pre-System human alleyway, there’s no detritus on the ground, no broken asphalt or concrete or scrawled graffiti from neglect. In this place, there’s not enough traffic for sapients to lay their mark upon the alley before the System cleanses it.
We’re in the third ring, close enough to the center that there are actual dead spaces like this. In the outer rings, empty alleyways like this would be impossible, as every scrap of land is used, even by the homeless.
“This it?” Mikito sounds doubtful, even though she’s seen the overhead imagery from the drone we deployed ahead of us and its conjured map.
“Yeah.”
I tilt my head, watching the Mana flows, the way it interacts with the environment. Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure it out. In the end, I dismiss the matter. Not because I don’t want to know, but because if I tried to work out every strangeness in Mana flows I encountered, I’d never take more than a dozen steps.
Mana moves as it will, and sometimes, System Mana and unaspected Mana conflict, almost as if they’re fighting one another. Other times, they flow past one another without an issue, mingling. And sometimes, one or the other just subsumes the other entirely. There are even a few studies—2,413—that have delved into the matter with the leading theory…
“Boy-o…” Ali coughs.
I blink, shake my head, and pull my mind back to the present. I’m less prone to side-thoughts now that the damn library is being processed by my new Class, but it still happens, especially when I’m a little nervous.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “Now, remember, just watch. Stay hidden, if you can. If things go to hell—”
Mikito snorts.
I chuckle ruefully but step into the alleyway, then stop. I turn to her and touch the side of my bracelet, pushing the Skill over us to hide our conversation as I continue. “About the three stooges…”
“Musketeers,” Mikito says.
“That make you D’Artagnan?” I raise an eyebrow. Mikito shrugs, and I push past the irrelevant question. “Any word?”
“Yes. They’re good. They are on it,” Mikito murmurs. She looks around and shakes her head. “I’m still a little uncomfortable with using them.”
“It’s safer than being with us,” I point out.
Mikito nods, smoothing out her face and shoving me in the shoulder to get me moving. I sketch a bow, dropping the topic, and walk away. I watch the little dot on my minimap grow closer, the dot located almost two-thirds of the way down the empty alley.
Each step I take seems to take forever. There’s a slow building discomfort that scratches at the back of my throat, clenches my guts. I cough, clear my throat, clench and unclench my fist as I walk. Ali beside me keeps flipping between his TV channels, going from reality TV show to reality TV show, before finding a musical.