“But you can connect?” Finn asked.
“Yeah, kind of.”
Finn waved him over. “Can you help me find it?”
“I think so.”
“If you can help me find the connection, I’ll feed you the signal,” Finn said. “I don’t know what you’ll be able to do with it, but I’ll keep the connection stable, if that helps.”
Wren nodded. “We can try.”
Wren did something internal, found the connection, shared it with Finn just before he lost it. It took a few attempts, but after a couple of minutes, Finn seemed to understand what they were looking for.
“OK, got it,” he said. “I’m going to try and boost it. You just ride along, do what you have to.”
Wren nodded and sat down on the ground, next to the wall of a building. Finn knelt next to him, and together they went into a realm none of the others could see.
The first thing Wren noticed was how dense it all was. Like a mass of wires crushed together. Connections to connections to connections, and none with any meaning to him. Processes flashed like lightning, gone in a blink, with only an after-image remaining. It wasn’t long before Wren was completely overwhelmed.
But as hopeless as it felt, at least he knew the machine’s purpose. And he knew Asher was in it. And he knew Asher. So that was where he started, looking for the things that reminded him of his brother.
Wren realized he didn’t even have words for what he was doing. He couldn’t reduce the thoughts or the impressions to anything he could describe. But it was something like how a scent could trigger a vivid memory, or a particular color could summon a flavor on the tongue. A fleeting impression was enough to trigger a stream of interactions, and Wren found himself falling deeper into the void of the machine.
He floated, lost for a time, flailing, grasping. And then Wren realized how hard he was searching, and he took a breath, and he stopped trying. Moments later, or maybe minutes, it was impossible to tell, as he let his mind rove where it would, something caught his attention. Something that seemed out of place. And he stretched out and touched it through the ether.
And he was answered.
Asher. There was something of him still within the machine. And he sensed Wren. And he laughed. A cold, mocking laugh.
And a voice came into Wren’s mind.
“You’re too late, Spinner. So, so very late,” Asher said.
“You don’t have to do this, Asher,” Wren said. “You can stop. Call off the Weir.”
“Why would I? I’m enjoying it.”
“Stop it, or I will.”
“Oh, Spinner. I wanted to love you, you know. I really did. But you’re impossible to love. You think you’re special, but you’re not.”
“I’ve fought you before, Asher. I’ve defeated you before.”
“Not this time.”
Wren knew better than to waste much time talking to Asher. And now that he knew Asher was here, Wren bent his whole will towards forcing his brother out of the machine. Out of the Weir’s minds. Back to wherever he’d come from. Anger grew, and Wren invited it. Fed it. All that Asher had done, and all that he’d caused, Wren remembered it, focused on it, and used it to drive him.
And then he unleashed himself within the machine.
And Asher laughed again.
“Even now you don’t understand, do you? Underdown’s toy was a beginning. The first baby step, ten thousand miles ago. I know it seems impressive to you, but it’s nothing to me now. And you shouldn’t be here.”
A sudden pressure came into Wren’s head then, and a searing pain that felt like it was right in the middle of his brain. But he grappled with his brother and pushed him back. Asher was too big — too strong now. He’d changed since Wren had last dealt with him. Wren didn’t know how he was controlling the Weir now, but Wren knew the machine still connected to them somehow. He changed tactics.
He tried to Awaken the Weir through the machine. It was a terrible strain, but he visualized how he had helped Mama, and Painter, and Kit. Wren focused on Kit. She’d been the easiest, because she’d been fighting it on her own. Like Chapel. Wren searched the machine for that same sensation, that feeling of struggle. And when he found one, he touched it, and it sprang free. Quickly he searched for another, and then another.
“Oh, clever. But see how slowly you think, little brother. Already I perceive your mind.”
Wren had no way of knowing what effect it was having, but it had disrupted Asher, and so he kept trying it. And he noticed that once those connections were severed, Asher didn’t seem to have any way to repair them.
“Fine,” Asher said. “I was done with it anyway.”
A blinding white light entered Wren’s mind. Not one seen with his eyes, but no less powerful and painful to his senses. Something was happening. The machine was collapsing. And Wren felt himself thrown violently backwards. He cried out, and all was dark.
“What happened?” Cass screamed. “What happened to him?”
She was cradling Wren in her arms. Finn was holding his head like he was in severe pain.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “It was like… I don’t know, like feedback or something. The connection broke itself. And it hurt.”
Cass put her ear to Wren’s chest. He was still breathing; his heartbeat was still strong. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn’t something she could fix right now. It might be something she could never fix, and that thought terrified her. She held him close.
The sounds of the battle were intensifying, and it was clear that many others had thought to retreat to the governor’s compound. A crowd was gathering, and it wasn’t just frightened citizens. Some guards were there as well. One of the guards on the wall fired a warning shot, but that only made the crowd more frightened and angry, and some started pulling on the gates.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Sky said.
“Where else is there to go?” Finn asked.
“They can’t have surrounded the whole city,” Wick said.
“The train,” Cass said.
“What?” Gamble said.
“There’s a train. To Greenstone. It runs under the Strand.”
“Do you know where it is?”
Cass shook her head. “They wouldn’t let us use it.”
“It’s underground?” Wick said. “Where? Where does it come out?”
“I don’t know.”
“In the city? Close to it? Far away?” he asked.
“Close, I think. I’m not really sure.”
Wick’s eyes went unfocused, but his face was intense. Searching. “How big a train?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Big, small?”
“Small. Just a few passengers. Like an old shuttle.”
He was silent for a few more moments.
“People of Morningside,” the Voice boomed. Cass couldn’t comprehend how it was possible that she could hear him from so far away. And then she realized that his voice was coming from every system in the city. The compound’s public address system, the exterior alarm of the building next to them, everything with an output was broadcasting his voice. “The very heart of your city is corrupt. And so shall you fall from within.”
The echoing voice had stunned the heaving crowd across the street into silence. And then they started screaming, and fleeing away from the gate. The guards reacted, and some turned to face inwards, and Cass felt a shock of realization.
Painter. Painter had used the tunnel that ran from the compound out under the wall. And he had revealed it to the Weir.
She didn’t have to see what was going on inside the compound to know the truth. The Weir were inside its walls. The city had fallen.
“Got it,” Wick said. “It’s a run, but we can make it.”
“Lil? Gamble,” Gamble said. “City’s compromised, we’ve got Weir inside the governor’s compound. We gotta evac… Yeah, we’ll ping you a route now.”