90. Perseverance and Sacrifice

The hangar bay was a crowded mess. Ships had been cleared out of the way. In their place, a sea of folding chairs pointed toward a raised platform where Queen Helena was supposed to make an appearance, but she was twenty minutes late. Defense Minister Lowden checked his phone again.

Other ministers were here too. Helena had summoned the entire cabinet, all generals and admirals posted near South America, and several lower ranking military personnel. Also, there were the ministers of several Lakiran districts. Lowden recognized the current head of Brazil, Argentina, and Chile, and a few representatives from North and Central America. All these people were supposed to be maintaining the empire. Instead, they had taken red-eye flights here, where they could get frisked and scanned by exemplars because Helena had seen fit to order everyone to come. The child ruler had decided she has something important to say. Lowden had no idea what, but this was blatant mismanagement of power. What had been so important about the recent assassination attempt that she needed to summon everyone?

She survived, didn’t she? Unharmed. What’s the big deal?

Of course, what if Helena had been killed? Victoria never outlined contingency plans beyond her own family. The ministry had discussed the idea of electing a prime minister for the indefinite future, but that wasn’t an official plan. The military might accept this decision, or not. Lowden worked with top ranking generals. He knew they talked among themselves, especially in the wake of Victoria’s demise. As of yet, neither the civilian or military camp had strayed into what might be considered ambitious plans, not with exemplars around. By design, exemplars only had soft power. If they detected trouble, they’d tattle to the queen. If the queen wasn’t there, then they might as well write about it in their diaries for all the good they can do. At the end of the day, when systems failed, hard power was all that mattered. It would be interesting if anything ever did happen to Helena. That’s for sure.

Not that Lowden hoped for that. He didn’t like her, but he wasn’t a traitor.

He glanced toward the exemplars standing by at elevator. Their eyes remained forward.

Though he swore, if she announced sweeping changes at a time like this, he’d resign. Maybe she was stepping down. That’d be nice. Victoria, difficult as she was, at least knew what she was doing. He recalled something Helena had told him once years ago. When I’m queen, I’m going to make my birthday the first global holiday. Disgusting. She’s been queen for three weeks. In that time, if she wasn’t ordering him to withdraw humanitarian support from locations across the globe or torch farms, she was renovating this citadel to be her personal playhouse. She’d recalled all of exemplars from their posts, and wasting time hunting deserters so unimportant that Lowden couldn’t even recall who they were.

Everyone knew what Helena was like. No one had the balls to say anything… as though they should have to. Didn’t Victoria read minds? How much of a doting mother must she have been to ignore the obvious? Helena was not fit to rule.

A spokesman came onto the stage. He tapped the mic and told everyone to take a seat. About God damn time. Ministers and military alike shuffled into the nest of chairs. Lowden could see strained patience in their eyes. He wasn’t alone in finding this affair ridiculous.

Once everyone was seated, they waited another five or so minutes before an elevator finally descended from the upper levels. Helena emerged and took to the podium. Right behind her was the asian, high-school girl that Helena had assigned to head the Exemplar Committee. Can anyone say nepotism? Not around Helena.

“Good evening, everyone.” Helena smiled at the audience. Something about it made Lowden’s skin crawl. Ever since she’d taken the throne, she’d only been severe or sulky. Somehow, this was worse. It was as though she were about to sell everyone vacation time-share estates.

“Thank you all for coming. I know this was short notice. And many of you are probably wondering why you had to come in person. As you all know, there was an attempt on my life. Luckly, I’m all right. This, however, was the second such assassination attempt this month. The first took my mother from us. That attack was carried out by one of my most trusted members of the Committee.”

There were murmurs through the crowd.

“I’m here to share with you what we’ve learned about these attacks. Both were carried out by the same unnamed terrorist group. And both carried out by members of our staff that had previously been scanned for disloyalty. What we’ve learned is that this terrorist group has multiple flairs working for them capable of altering the will and memory of targeted individuals, and turning them against the empire. They can do this from anywhere, and target anyone. They killed my mother by turning her own guards against her, and they did the same to me with my own exemplar body guard.”

She paused to allow a discord of murmurs work their way through the audience. Her gaze traveled slowly over the crowd, as though studying reactions. Her gaze fell on Lowden. She still smiled, even as she talked about her mother’s death, but it didn’t seem so sinister. If what she’d said was true, then she was taking a grave risk meeting everyone in person. Was this meeting wise? And why was now the first time he was hearing about this?

“That’s why I’ve brought you all here,” she said. “The people in this room hold this empire together. If these terrorist agents invaded your minds, it could have catastrophic effects. Even putting them aside, the world at large now has access to the same glyphs previously exclusive to the Exemplar Committee. Anyone in the street could pull state secrets from your mind. That is why you’ll all be getting one of these.”

Helena held up an object the size and shape of a robin’s egg, although flatter. It’s black surface gleamed.

“This little stone contains a shield glyph,” she said. “It’s protected with the same technology used in exemplar plaques. Everyone in the military will be getting these, but the first batch goes to you. Until these terrorists are dealt with, you must keep it on yourselves constantly. Sleep with it. Shower with it. Never take it off, except for security screenings of course.” She shrugged and smiled. “Even afterward, the world at large has mind-reading glyphs now. You’ll want to keep this. Congratulations everyone on your promotions in clearance.”

The crowd applauded. Many stood. Ministers chattered with one another. Helena looked over them all with a smile.

Maybe Lowden had the wrong idea about her. Plaque technology was something Victoria would only share if it were pried from her cold dead fingers, but Helena gave it willingly. If what she said was true, then this was absolutely the right move. Doing so showed trust in this crowd that Victoria never had. Perhaps Helena wasn’t as foolish as he took her for.

Good thing too. Only weeks into her reign, the poor girl was facing challenges her mother had never dreamed of.

The queen motioned to everyone. “Come. The exemplars will outfit each of you upstairs. And there’s an open bar.”

Awkwardly, the crowd got up. Many took the elevators. Though like many others, Lowden followed Helena up ladderwells.

The storage deck above the bay was decorated festively. Lining the walls were drink tables manned by stoic waiters with white gloved hands clasped behind their backs. Other waiters meandered through crowds with plates of hors d’oeuvres. When Lowden caught up, Helena was entrenched in conversation with admirals. During their talk, exemplars would appear from a side door and linger nearby. Helena would finish talking with a general or minister, then direct them to follow the exemplar to be outfitted. Someone else filled the person’s spot quickly.

The rest of the audience broke into their own cliques, including Lowden, but he kept his eye on Helena. Every time someone left her group to follow the exemplars, he’d try to excuse himself to join her, but someone else was already sliding in. It took over an hour before he finally joined her conversation. She was speaking with the head of the imperial marshal service.

“…And we’re passing the alert onto the territories,” the chief marshal was saying. “Just in case they manage to escape the homeland by some other means. But I’m telling you, ma’am, they won’t. Every grid station and airport from here to Greenland has their image posted. Every news station broadcasts an alert every half hour.”

“And yet.” Helena held her hands out; one held a gin and tonic. “Nothing. Aren’t you supposed to find fugitives in the first twenty-four hours? After that, they’re practically impossible to find?”

“Those are missing persons, ma’am. Police cases. We’re the imperial marshals, and we’re working with the intelligence ministry. We’ll find them.”

“I don’t know why it’s so hard,” said Helena. “Your looking for tired, middle-aged general traveling with a black woman with skin blacker than night, and she toks like dis.”

A small chitter of laughter.

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. We will get them. You have my word. They will rot for what they tried to do to you.” The words brought pause to the conversation. Guests sipped their drinks.

Helena grinned at the marshal, then motioned to an exemplar waiting nearby. “It think, Marshal, it’s your turn.”

“Let someone else go,” said the marshal. “I’m afraid I’m not done monopolizing your time.”

“I’d be a rude host if I spent all evening with one guest.”

The marshal smiled knowingly. He glanced at an exemplar waiting behind his shoulder, and reluctantly turned from the circle. “I’ll take my leave then, but I’m not done with you yet, Your Majesty. I’ll find you tonight.”

The exemplar led him away. Helena turned to her other listeners, settling on Lowden. His heart skipped, and to think he’d considered her smile unnerving.

“Defense Minister Lowden. How are you?”

“Your uh… Your Majesty.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight was a good move. I must admit. These past few weeks, I’ve had my doubts about you, but I see now they were unfounded. Your mother would be proud.”

“Thank you, minister. Many people have expressed the same sentiment. I think finally meeting everyone face to face has helped.”

“That may be it, Your Majesty,” said General Ramos. “You’ve spent so much time cooped up in this citadel. The last time I met you, you were a little firecracker this tall.” Ramos held his hand at waist height. “You need to get yourself out there. Show the world the empire still has a leader. Show them your strength.”

Others nodded.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, General. But Minister Vera doesn’t agree, do you?” Helena turned to the Minister of Media, a small woman holding a martini glass with both hands.

Vera smiled mildly. “Your Majesty. I think you should reconsider your plans. If what you’re saying about this terrorist group is true, you shouldn’t be traveling. It’s unsafe.”

“Nonsense,” said Helena. “I’ll bring my citadel with me.”

“What plan is this?” Lowden asked.

“Her Majesty is planning to travel to Europe and Asia to visit all of the destabilizing countries.”

“I figure,” Helena said, “all of these places are falling apart because they think they’ve lost leadership, and I can’t blame them. From the day I took the throne, these terrorists have had me hiding away. I need to go out there and show the world I’m not afraid, so I’m arranging meetings with the leaders of all the countries, face to face.”

“Can’t they all just come to you, ma’am?” Vera said.

“They are, but I want to meet the people too. I want to meet everyone. I want to stand on the citadel terrace and see these protesters for myself.”

“There are a lot of them,” said Lowden. “Tens of millions.”

“And I’ll meet them all. Every one. I don’t care if it takes years. The world saw my mother as an austere woman who put herself above everyone else. I’ll show them I’m different.”

“And these terrorists?”

“Like I said, I’m taking my citadel. I couldn’t be safer.”

“But what were you saying earlier?” ask Lowden. “Didn’t you say they could attack our minds from anywhere at any time? Is this true?”

“That’s why we’re having this shielding party.”

“But if they could do this, why haven’t they been doing it more?”

“Oh, but they have. Yesterday, we launched an orbital squad offensive toward Spain. It ended in an aerial battle. Does this sound familiar to you, Minister?”

“Should it?”

“It should. You signed off on it. We’d located the terrorist cell and sent a squadron after them.”

“Yesterday? I didn’t sign anything.”

“I can show you your signature, Minister. Think hard. What were you doing yesterday morning?”

“I was… I can’t recall off the top of my head. I was in a meeting. It… was with you, wasn’t it? Are you saying they’ve affected me?”

“They’ve affected everyone who wasn’t shielded. And more people are forgetting every moment. Even Admiral Laughlin. If we didn’t have security footage of him from yesterday, he still wouldn’t believe he was leading the offensive. Once I get these shields distributed, I’ll have to remind everyone of the threat.”

“Good heavens.”

“It’s worse. If these terrorists get to you in person, they can bend you to their will. You’ll believe whatever they want. That’s how they’ve convinced previously loyal soldiers to defect for them.”

“Can we rehabilitate those men?”

“Unfortunately, no. So now you understand why I’m moving so quickly with these shields.”

“Absolutely,” said Lowden. “I had no idea this terrorist threat was so dire. I’ll back whatever plan you decide.”

“Actually,” Helena glanced around to see who was present. “I wanted to talk to you about our empire’s nuclear capability.”

“Nuclear?”

“Yes. We have one, of course. Right?”

“You’re not suggesting we use a nuclear strike to hit these terrorists,” asked General Ramos.

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” said Helena.

“A bit like striking a nail with truck,” Ramos replied, “Wouldn’t you say, ma’am?”

Lowden spoke. “Your mother pledged to never use nuclear retaliation under any circumstances. She agreed to this with several territories when they joined the empire.”

“But we do have them, right?” said Helena.

Everyone in the circle dawdled.

“Your Majesty,” Lowden said. “The world is just now recovering from a nuclear winter.”

“I’m not talking about striking a country,” said Helena. “The ship I’m after is in the upper stratosphere. I’ve talked with an expert. If we detonated a high-capacity fusion bomb up that high, it wouldn’t eject any material into the air. The fallout would be minimal.”

Lowden considered his words. “I understand, ma’am, but it’s about public perception. No matter how safe or justified a nuclear strike might be, it would cause an uproar. People have a sour taste in their mouths about nuclear weapons ever since the Collapse. We must acknowledge the public’s reaction, even if the reaction is entirely irrational.”

“I see.” Helena frowned.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Nuclear strikes are one thing we absolutely must not do.”

“I understand, but I’m worried, Minister. We may reach a point where there isn’t another way. These shields are a protective measure, but they are not foolproof. If they where, my own high exemplars would not have been turned against me the way they were. All they need is for you to put your shield down for a minute, a second. They could yank it from your pocket or demand it at gunpoint. Then you’ll forget that you lost it at all. You won’t even remember meeting them. This is the threat I face, with a faltering army, and a crumbling empire. These terrorists will not stop until they have killed me, just as they killed my mother.”

Lowden caught himself about to tip his glass. He’d been so focused on her he’d started tipping forward. And this was only his second drink.

Helena continued. “Now, add to this the fugitives I’m searching for. This is a man who used to work for me before these terrorists got to him. He tried to kidnap one of my flairs, one capable of destroying shields. What would have happened if he’d succeeded? These terrorists would add this girl to their collection, and then nothing could stop them—not our shields, not our army, nothing. A long range nuclear strike may be the only sure way.”

“But surely…” said a general, but he lost his train of thought.

“We do have long range missile capabilities,” said Lowden. “It doesn’t have to be, uh, nuclear.” He felt woozier by the second.

“I hope you’re right,” Helena said. “For humanity’s sake, these terrorists can’t be allowed to win. What happens if they kill me? Or worse. What happens if they brainwash me like they’ve done to countless soldiers. If they gained control, they could systematically rob everyone of their free will. This world could see a tyranny unlike any in earth’s history. They must be stopped, Minister, at all costs. Even if it means tarnishing this empire’s image, I’ll step down if I must. I’ll let the world hate me. My reign is not important in face of this threat.”

Lowden was hardly concentrating on her words. His eyes were on her lips. She was speaking with power and conviction. When he looked upon her, he saw not a little girl who bragged about her reign, but Victoria’s daughter. She had the old queen’s strength, and courage, and beauty. Yet in another way, they were nothing alike. Victoria had focused on building her empire. She was selfish, albeit to the benefit of the empire.

But here Helena was thinking for her people, not for herself. And by God she was beautiful. Lowden stood before a true tigress—handsome and majestic. This woman was his queen.

“I understand, Your Majesty.” The words came out choked. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and nodded. He was acting like a grade school boy.

Helena smiled in understanding. She craned to catch his downturned gaze. “Please understand. I realize the gravity of what I’m asking. Are we nuclear capable?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If it comes to it, can I count on you to allow me to protect our people.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Even if I must use nuclear strikes upon ground targets? Knowing it may cost innocent lives? It will be my burden, but will you support me?”

“If it comes to that, ma’am. I’ll will.”

And he knew he would, no matter what came. This woman was facing so much. If she wanted him to give his life, he would. He only wished he could give more.

Helena smiled. “Come, Minister. I think you’re ready to get your shield.”

87. Too Good a Stock to Put Down

Sakhr collapsed into his office chair. His hand still clutched the plaque cradled in Sibyl’s arms. Alone now, he could think. Everything else could wait.

What had he forgotten?

It had something to do with Victoria; he was sure of that. Somehow she’d taken away his memories. He hadn’t even realized she could do that. Or had he known? He couldn’t recall ever talking about it.

God damn it. His mind was such a mess.

Stay focused.

He couldn’t see Sibyl’s aura. Her shield was working.

“Do you remember?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you remember everything that just happened?”

“What?”

“Stop that. Stop being so pathetic. Did you remember what we were just doing?”

“…Yes.”

“Well?”

“You had sent ships to destroy that orbiter, but then the soldiers forgot what their orders were.”

“What? Orbiter? Why would I want to destroy an orbiter?”

“Victoria was on board.”

“Yes. Okay.” She was, wasn’t she? He remembered something about her getting on board a ship. The Venezia sounded right. It had a captain named Marc Stephano. That’s all he could recall.

“Give me this.” Sakhr tugged at Sibyl’s plaque.

She held on. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“I need to see your mind. I need to know what just happened.”

“But she could still be watching,” she wailed. “She’d erase my memory too.”

Sakhr stopped. That was a good point. Keeping his hand on the plaque, he settled back and thought. He needed to see Sibyl’s mind, but in such a way that Victoria couldn’t first rob her of the very memories he needed. By now, she’d no doubt plundered the minds of every damn soldier in that bridge. Sibyl was the only one left who knew. Only she’d had a shielded plaque.

Then wait…

“Sibyl, how long has my shield been broken?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You’ve been with me all day. You must have seen my aura. How long have you been able to see it?”

“…All day. I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me.”

Didn’t occur to you? Give me this.” They struggled over the plaque. “Give me it now.” Sakhr shoved his shoulder into Sibyl, knocking her away.

Now the sole possessor of the plaque, Sakhr looked upon her.

Then he lunged for his desk’s security button. “Get guards in here now!”

“Nope!” Sibyl launched toward him. Her fist collided with Sakhr’s jaw. He sprawled back. The plaque clattered.

Sakhr clutched his face. Sibyl stood over him. Her docile behavior was gone. This person grinned wide as they fetched the toppled plaque.

“Alexander,” he said. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

The impostor took something from their pocket and toss it to Sakhr.

It was a taser.

Sakhr’s mind raced as to why Alexander would arm him after this treachery.

One reason came to mind.

By the time he’d realized it, Alex had already laid the plaque beside them and touched his hand to Sakhr’s stomach.

In his lifetime of swapping bodies, Sakhr had only been swapped by someone else one time before. Victoria had put him inside that tortoise. It had caused jarring motion sickness and left him stunned. He felt that same sensation now. He stared out from Sibyl’s body, looking at the grinning face of Helena, the queen.

Alexander kicked Sakhr away and shot him with the taser. Screaming, Sakhr crumpled.

“Damn,” Alex rubbed his jaw. “I clocked you hard, didn’t I?”

Soldiers burst in, weapons poised. Alexander pointed to Sakhr. “This woman is an assassin.”

The men rushed toward Sakhr.

“No!” shouted Alex. “Stay away from her. Get the exemplars.”

“Your Majesty? We need to secure her.”

“You can’t. She’s a flair. Get the exemplars.”

“Wait,” mumbled Sakhr. Pain still wracked his body from the shock. “It’s a trick.”

No one heard him.

“Go,” said Alex. “Make sure no one enters or leaves this room until the exemplars get here.”

They hesitated. All their training yelled at them not to leave their leader alone with a declared assassin.

Now,” shouted Alex.

The soldiers backed out of the room. Alex used his plaque to make a call. Two rings.

“Boss?”

“Wyatt? It’s me, Alex. You remember that… thing we talked about?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“It’s just happened. Get the guys up here. Soldiers are on their way.”

“Got it, boss.”

Alex hung up.

“My… my power,” breathed Sakhr. “How…”

“How’d I get it? You’ve been shieldless a lot longer than you think. Funny, really. It’s your own paranoia that’s defeated you. If you’d let the soldiers have those glyph cards, any one of them could have let you know.” Alex rubbed his chin ponderously. “Or maybe not. It takes a brave little boy to tell the emperor he’s hasn’t got any clothes on.”

Sakhr got up on one knee.

“Ah ah.” Alex brandished the taser toward him. “Stay down.”

Sakhr glared at him. “Five hundred years, Alex. Five hundred years. You know how much of your bullshit I’ve put up with? How much I’ve forgiven?”

“You think I don’t know? I know your mind better than you do. What’s that little gem you’re always thinking? A poorly-trained breeding dog. Too good a stock to put down.

“It was never like that.”

Alex waved it off. “Oh, I know. We always knew where we stood with one another. Which is why we both knew this was coming.”

“Your betraying me? Why would I see this coming? I’ve shown you five hundred years of loyalty.”

“Oh please, Sakhr. Why don’t you look me in the eye and say that. …Or why don’t you tell me where Christof is right now.”

Sakhr clenched his fists. He’d gotten his broken plaque last night. How many times had he looked into Alex’s eyes since then? If he were going to get out of this, it would take luck. Sakhr hated luck.

His eyes on the ground, he asked, “Are you going to kill me?”

“Now that is a great question. I’ve been going back and forth on that all week. It would be such a waste, but on the other hand, Katherine kept you alive. Look where that got her. And why should I keep you when I’ve got this?” Alex turned the plaque toward Sakhr to show an image file. It was an ugly drawing of a glyph made using a simple painting program. Sakhr didn’t recognize it because he had never seen his own.

Four exemplars burst in the door. Alex pointed Sakhr out. Two grabbed Sakhr by his arms. Another cuffed him.

Alex held out his hand. One passed him a repulse pistol. There was no hesitation. It’s as though everyone had rehearsed this act but Sakhr.

“Alexander. I kept you alive all these years. Take it, okay? The throne is yours.”

Stepping closer, Alexander took aim.

“Alexander, please. Put me in a tortoise. Put me in anything. You can’t throw away my power. That… that drawing. Do you think it will last? There’s a girl on this ship who can destroy that with a glance.”

“I’ll make backups.”

“How many? Who will keep them? Think, Alex. You don’t know what the future holds, what flairs will show up. You might need me some day. Just put me away somewhere. Imprison me. Take the throne. I won’t fight for it. I never wanted to rule. Please, Alex. Five hundred years. Does that mean nothing?”

“Good God, Sakhr. Your a calculating man right up until the gun turns on you. You really show your true colors then, don’t you?”

“Don’t do this. My power may be the only method for immortality that will ever exist. That glyph breaking girl might just be the first of many. There may come a day you’ll regret killing me. Please, Alex. Think. You can’t take this back.”

Alex kept the gun aimed at Sakhr, dithering as though deciding an ice cream flavor. With a sigh, he lowered the gun. “I suppose so. Take him away.”

“Where to?” one asked.

Alex thought. “Fourth floor cells. And you, go fetch the tortoise in General Soto’s bathroom. I’ll come by later to swap them out.”

The exemplars started carrying Sakhr away. Despite the predicament, relief washed over him. He could lose the throne. He could lose against Victoria. He would suffer the humiliation of living as a simple animal again. It didn’t matter. He was alive, and in all his millennia of life, this would just be another second. He’d escape some day.

But he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Being Victoria’s captive was one thing. She was rational, and careful. She would have let him live for centuries, but Alexander might change his mind tomorrow. As the men carried him to the door, he glanced around. Each exemplar had a gun, not something they were supposed to have, but he could work with it. They each had a plaque fastened to their belts. The men holding his arms were close enough that Sakhr might reach their plaques with his cuffed hands.

He’d wait until they were in the hall, then in one swift motion, yank the plaque’s battery. It would shatter. The man’s instincts would then act against him, and he’d grab Sakhr. In the time it’d take them to realize that Sakhr had changed bodies, he could already have shot two of them. For the last? Simple trick. Toss him the gun. His reaction will be to grab it while Sakhr knocks the man’s plaque from the holster. Then Sakhr would be in his body holding the gun.

It would be a risk, but Sakhr would have to take it. From there, he’d have a shield glyph, a gun, and a body with high rank. Getting off the citadel would be the next trick. He’d have to—

“Hold it,” said Alex. The men turned around, facing Sakhr toward him. “What’s that I smell?” Alex wandered toward Sakhr while sniffing the air. “Is that… hope I’m smelling on your aura? Maybe a hint of determination? You’re already planning your escape, aren’t you?” He frowned at Sakhr like a disappointed parent. “Oh well. Maybe I’ll regret this later, but…” He aimed the gun.

Alexander,” shouted Sakhr. “Don’t—”

He never got to finish.

79. Just Fifteen Seconds

Alexander and Sibyl were seated before the newly finished assembly machine. Robotic arms inside of it worked frantically to assemble security devices on frames bearing glyph wafers. One was a new plaque for Sibyl, complete with all exemplar standards and a shield. Two others were shields for Christof and Sakhr. Alexander had sketched the glyphs from a hacked plaque and his own ink-and-paper shield glyph.

The arms attached pressure sensitive bulbs, light diodes, caustic chemicals that react with oxygen, and back up explosives on a separate battery pack.

“Katherine was a paranoid woman, wasn’t she?” Alex said. “All that just to keep one little chip safe.”

“Mmhmm…,” Sibyl replied.

“Not that I blame her. I’d do the same too if it were me. It’s too bad Paul had to let the glyphs into the wild. We still have the shield glyph though,” Alex said. “That’s the one that really matters.”

She nodded.

Sibyl didn’t care much to talk with Alex. He knew damn well how she felt about him. He’d seen enough of her mind over the centuries. For her, she was here because Sakhr ordered her here. As soon as she had the plaques, she planned to be out the door.

Eventually, three plaques slid into the machine’s dispenser tray. Sibyl gathered them and turned to leave.

“Hold it,” Alex said.

“Yes?”

He held out his hand. “Your paper glyph?”

“What?”

“Your paper shield glyph. You don’t need it anymore, and keeping it around is a security risk. All someone would need is twenty seconds alone with it and the shields would be in the wild just as much as the other glyphs are.”

“Oh. Right.” Sibyl fetched a slip of paper from her coat pocket and handed it over. Alex tore it neatly in half. Sibyl again turned to leave.

“Just one last thing,” Alex said.

She paused, though she fidgeted.

Alexander walked to a lit glass cabinet and opened the lid. “Could you put the plaques in here for a second?”

“Why?”

“This is a plaque holding case. Exemplars are able to leave their plaques inside of these without them self-destructing. Before Katherine had shields, exemplars would have to store their plaques in these before entering her presence so they couldn’t read her mind. The case keeps them secure, and keeps them from self-destructing. Christof will need one, unless he wants to replace his plaque every every time he talks to the glyph breaker. I had my boys set this up, but I wouldn’t trust them to remember their own names, so I need to test it..” He nodded toward the plaques in her hand.

Sibyl placed Christof’s and Sakhr’s plaque inside.

“Sorry.” Alex picked up them up and set them aside. “Not those. Yours. Their’s aren’t activated yet. I need to make sure your plaque can be in here while you walk away.”

To her credit, Sibyl hesitated. Alex doubted she actually suspect anything. Perhaps her flair had picked up on something despite Alex’s shield, since he didn’t think her tiny, trusting brain would have actually notice how orchestrated their exchange was.

She placed hers inside.

“Now come with me.” Alex guided her. “We have to get five meters away.”

They did so.

“Is that good?” Sibyl turned to head back.

He stopped her. “We’ll know in a moment. If the case isn’t working, the plaque should beep soon. Then it would pop after another minute. If the case is working, then the plaque should be fine.”

“Okay.”

They waited.

“Sorry you had to come down here,” said Alex. “Christof has been a little upset with me lately.”

“It’s fine.”

Alex sighed. “It’s this whole Paul thing. He thinks I went overboard.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t know what to do. We needed that glyph. So Sakhr ordered me to do what I had to. Then around Christof, he’ll pretend what I do disgusts him. He thinks I don’t know he does this. Am I wrong? Every time I’m not around, he’s disparaging me, isn’t he?”

Sibyl shifted uncomfortably. “No. He’s just… under pressure.”

“We’re all under pressure. This empire is falling, and we’re all busting our asses to keep it upright. We’ve got Katherine out there, the military deserters, and a whole world rebelling against us. I’ve been running back and forth juggling Paul and the exemplars. I’m just trying to make this work.”

“Yes, I know.” Sibyl frowned. Confusion? Could she sense her own aura changing? He slowed down on his Sympathy flexing, but not by much.

“I just don’t think they’re being fair to me. If Sakhr had such a problem with how I do things, he should do it himself, but he doesn’t. He orders me to do whatever needs to be done, and then he and Christof hate me for it.” He shrugged. “I’m starting to feel like he’s setting me up. He’s got my power now. Pretty soon, he’s going to get rid of me and wash his hands of all the shit he’s making me do. I’m his scapegoat.”

Alex stared at the ground feeling sorry for himself. Did he overplay it? He had never complained before, especially not to someone as vapid as her. Even she might detect his odd behavior.

But then a hand was on his shoulder. He looked up to see her staring at him.

“He won’t do that to you. He’s loyal to his own. You know that.” She smiled timidly. “I could say something to him.”

That was just fifteen seconds of Sympathy. Where would two minutes get him? Where would ten?

“No,” he said meekly. “It’s just nice to talk about it.”

78. Your Fada

When Christof first saw the display mounted behind Sakhr’s desk, he mistook it for a collection of smaller screens, though it was actually a single surface spanning from waist to ceiling and wide enough for several to stand before it. It just happened to be displaying several small windows, each either Mobile Security drone footage or an overhead map display. Christof stepped up beside Sakhr and Sibyl and studied its displays.

They showed a building complex in Lyons, France. Glowing dots on the overhead map indicated a person. Other screens showed still images of people through apartment windows: a black family, an asian man, and a white woman with black hair. She was familiar, as though Christof had passed her on the street ages ago.

“Who is she?” Christof pointed the woman out.

“A flair.” Sakhr replied. “Victoria was tracking her before we escaped. Her name is Josephine.”

“Josephine what?”

“Just Josephine. No records. The military lost track of her in all the chaos, but a few days ago someone reported her. From what I gather, the military has tried several times to bring her in.”

“How?”

Sakhr offered Christof a tablet displaying the woman’s profile. It was sparse. Her physical description was the longest section. The rest was list of her known crimes, mostly break-ins of Lakiran facilities. Then there was a brief mention about her ability to manipulate minds. No one was to approach her directly.

“This is all you know?”

“A few soldiers knew more. She makes people forget about her. It limited Victoria’s knowledge base.”

“What do you want from me?”

“With her? Nothing.” Sakhr enlarged two windows. One showed a handcuffed girl waiting in a detention room somewhere else in the citadel. The other was of a woman, probably the girl’s mother, kept in a different room. They were the same family shown in the apartment photos. “Alex caught them away from the others. They arrived here last night. Apparently, the girl is some kind of glyph breaker, a major reason Victoria couldn’t catch this Josephine. And she’s possibly the answer to our prayers for these runaway glyphs.” He turned to Christof. “I want you to interrogate her?”

“Why don’t you get Alex? Isn’t he your resident thumb screw tightener?”

“Alex left last night for China to do God-knows-what. Talk to her. Look at her power if you can.”

“When you say she breaks glyphs, do you mean breaks breaks them. Do they come back?”

“No. The glyphs remain broken.”

“So you want me to risk my power—”

Sakhr turned to Sibyl. “Tell him.”

Sibyl spoke. “She’s been on the outskirts of my range all afternoon. Every time she gets within it, my power stutters. I can’t sense anyone. But it’s fine as soon as she’s out of range again.”

“Okay, but why should my power work if yours doesn’t?”

“Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t,” Sakhr said. “I’d do it myself, except I’m carrying my master glyph. So either you do this interview, or Alex does when he gets back.” Sakhr pointed out the girl, who now fiddled with her handcuffs. She was nearly the same age as Helena, the poor girl Christof kept in his shower because there was no safer place for her.

“You or Alex,” Sakhr said. “Your choice.”


Christof had an internet glyph card with him. It failed bit by bit. Empathy shut down in the elevator down to the holding area. Auras faded away like afterimages.

Flair-vision failed in the observation room adjacent to the girl’s room. He hardly noticed since his own flair-seeing ability failed simultaneously, and that one he felt. Looking at her was like biting into an apple only to discover it was a rock. It made his teeth clench. He averted his eyes and felt the comforting sense of his own power returning. The rigid, inferior mockery of his power that his glyphs provided didn’t return.

Since getting the card, it was a pleasure discovering no one else benefited from his power quite like he did.

When Christof entered the room with the girl, she looked up, and his mind reading glyph broke, though he didn’t feel that one. He was still occupied by the rock-biting sense his own power failure.

He sat. “Naema Madaki, right?”

“Ya. Who are you?”

Soldiers were watching. It took him a moment to remember his disguise. “General Soto.”

“A general?”

“Yes. Do you know why the empire has brought you here?”

“You tell me.”

“I could list the crimes you’ve committed over the past month. They just filled me in. Theft. Escaping detainment. Disruption of exemplar duties. But, I won’t pretend we actually care about any of that. You are a flair.”

“So, what? Are you going to steal my power now?”

“No. We were hoping you would like to work with us.”

“Are you serious?” She laughed. “You attacked me. That stupid girl said she would leave my mama if I came. Then she shot me with that thing.” She lifted her shirt to show a large purplish burn. “Now you took my mama anyway. Go die.”

She crossed her arms and glowered. Christof didn’t need an empathy to see what she was hiding. Her crossed arms hid trembling hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know about the circumstances of your arrest. I first heard about you thirty minutes ago, but I answer directly to the queen, and I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Okay?”

Your Fada.”

“Listen. You need my help, because no one else here is going to care what happens to you as much as I do.”

Did her smile falter? He wasn’t sure, but he hoped so. She might sense that he being genuine.

He pressed on. “Queen Victoria searched for flairs such as yourself. In return for cooperation, she provided them with citizenship, higher education, financial compensation… whatever she could do. She looked after them. Queen Helena wants to do the same.”

“Then let my mama go.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but we can do more than that. You were living in Nigeria, right? Recently occupied. Must be poor living conditions. We can help you, and your mother, and your brother gain citizenship in this country. We’d waive your past infractions. You’d have financial security. That means no more stealing food or looking over your shoulder. You and your brother would spend your time worrying about grades and college applications.”

“And I give you my power, right?”

“This isn’t a trade, Naema. We’d be on the same side. There’d be no hostages.”

“You have my mama right now. That girl threatened to kill her.”

God damnit, Alex. “I know he… she did. That’s why she’s been taken off your case. It’s me now. No more threats.”

“So I can say no? What happens to me then?”

Christof thought back two days ago. He’d spotted a crowd of airmen and medics on the top deck carting away an unrecognizable suicide victim. He’d only found out later it was Paul.

“I don’t know,” he said. “At the end of the day, you are charged with several crimes. Unless we waive those, you’d be looking at a prison sentence. But I can’t emphasize this enough. You have something we want. Use that. Bargain with us.”

“I told you, Bonga head. Let my mama go! You think you know what I want? Must be poor living conditions in Nigeria. You people showed up and took the place over. You went to each town, lining people up, dragging them away. Then you go and arrest anyone getting more food. Now you bring tiny bits of food for us to eat and tell us to be happy. We have less now. You make us fight over fake cassava. Look how you help.”

“I know. I know, truly. But I do want to help you.”

“You’re only here cause your queen girl wants my power.”

“That is why they sent me, yes, but that’s not why I’m here.” He leaned in. “I’m here because I’m afraid of what will happen to you if you don’t cooperate.”

That reached her; he could tell. She seemed to recede into her chair. And she had no quip to follow up. For a first interview, that was all he needed, just to convey the direness of her situation.

Christof rose. “We’ll talk later. I’ll see what I can do about your mother. Have you eaten?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’ll have them bring you some food.” He looked around. “And better conditions.”

“That won’t make me believe you.”

“Wouldn’t have expected it to.”

Back in Sakhr’s office. Alexander’s young female face was prominent on the display. No matter what body he was in, Christof always recognized that same smirk.

“Interesting tactic.” Alex’s voice came over the speakers. “If you wanted a friend, I wish you’d have told me. We don’t spend time together anymore.”

“You watched that, did you?”

Sakhr interjected. “Alex contacted me while you were with the girl. I’ve brought him up to speed.”

“And then we watched the tail end of your scholarship program,” said Alex. “She’s too set against us. You’ll never get her to play nice. Give her to me, and I’ll get you that glyph.”

“No,” Christof said plainly. Both Sakhr and Sibyl glanced at him. His aura was betraying how strongly he felt about that. He needed a damn shield. “Just give me time with her.”

“My way is quicker,” Alex replied.

“I don’t think her power can even be made into a glyph. It’ll just break itself. If that’s the case, you need the girl’s cooperation if you ever want her help.”

“Not necessarily…” Alex mused.

“Let me do this my way. Let’s talk about her mother.”

“We’re not releasing her,” Sakhr said.

“She’s useless to us,” Christof argued. “and she’s not guilty of anything.”

“We’re not releasing her. She could come in useful.”

“We could always find her again,” Christof said. “The mother isn’t like this Josephine. She can’t hide.”

“Unless she’s with Josephine,” Alex said. “They’re not going to fall for my trick again. Frankly, I don’t see why we need this girl at all,” Alex said. “All she does is gum up glyphs. That’ll hurt us more than more than anyone else.”

“I want her for Victoria,” Sakhr said.

“You don’t need her. You really want a girl walking around that’ll break your master glyphs?”

Sakhr considered this.

“Hold on,” said Christof. “Let’s not damn this girl just yet. Give me time with her. What’s the harm?” He looked at Sakhr, knowing full well he was letting Sakhr reading his mind. “Please.”

Sakhr relented. “Fine. She’s yours. Any promises you make you’ll run by me first, understood.”

“Agreed.”

“Waste of time if you ask me,” Alex said.

“It won’t be your time wasted,” Sakhr said. “But I’ll need you to make Christof a plaque with a shield. You’ve got that plaque assembler up and running now, yes?”

“I guess I can,” said Alex, “but he’ll just break it if he’s going to interview the girl again.”

“That’s the idea. I want to confirm whether she’s a shield breaker.”

“Okay. I just got back. Christof, swing by the imperial spire. I’ll take you to see the assembler. It’s neat.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I need you to come.” Alex pointed to the back of his own neck. “You’ll need one of those exemplar microchips.”

“The plaque doesn’t need that security feature.”

“Let’s not get sloppy.”

“I’m not coming, Alex. Just have it sent to me.”

Alex frowned at Christof like an exasperated parent. “Are you still upset about Paul?”

Christof stared back at him.

Sakhr broke the silence. “Just have one of your men send it over, Alex.”

“You want those shady guys holding a shield? Very sloppy.”

Sakhr’s tolerance was waning. “Sibyl will pick it up. Is that acceptable?” He looked around at her.

She nodded.

Alex shrugged. “I still think Christof is being childish.”

“It’s fine,” Sakhr said. “And you’ll make a shield for me as well.”

“Sure, sure.”

Sakhr dismissed the call. He turned to Sibyl “Head over there. And be quick.”

She nodded and left.

Sakhr was alone with Christof now. He took a calming breath, then motioned for Christof to sit.

Christof did so. “Did you say Alex was in China?”

“He was following up on a possible lead regarding a flair.”

“Did he find one?”

“No. Says it was a hoax.”

“Do you believe him?”

Sakhr didn’t reply.

Christof continued. “I’m concerned about Alex. He’s been acting more and more on his own. Those exemplars of his are downright hostile to everyone else. He’s isolating himself.”

“I know…”

“He’s a problem, Sakhr. He never was before because he needed you to stay alive, but that might not be true anymore. You’ve let him on too loose of a leash.”

“I know.”

“And this whole business with—”

I know, Christof. I don’t need you to tell me all the ways Alexander is a growing liability.”

“Then why am I here?”

Sakhr stared Christof down. “Look at me.”

After centuries of living around Alex, doing so was against Christof’s habit, but he did so. Eye contact lasted until Sakhr satisfied himself with whatever he saw in Christof’s mind.

“I kept you here because I want to discuss what we’re going to do with this liability.”

“Ah,” said Christof. He understood now. The scan was a loyalty check. It was time for intrigue and politics.

Christof hated intrigue and politics

77. Put Your Emotions in a Box

“From where?” asked Alex.

Ben squinted at his tablet. “Zow… chan? It’s just south of some place called Hangzoo.”

“Hangzhou?”

“Yeah. That’s it. She’s Chinese.”

No shit, Alex thought. He couldn’t expect better from Ben. His exemplar name was Richard Brigges, and if he actually were Richard Brigges, he might have known a thing or two about Chinese geography. Unfortunately, Alex’ had the real Richard Brigges fed to an industrial reclamator. Meanwhile, Ben was from a raider gang. Gang members were good for loyalty, but poor on geography, or much else.

Alex faced the security screen showing the small asian woman sitting in an interrogation room.

“What’s her name?” asked Alex.

“…Leo Fen?” Ben offered Alex his tablet. Liu Fen. From Xiaoshan. And a botanist apparently. Alexander wasn’t caught up on current events yet, but he knew something of the expansive Chinese greenhouse projects. Months ago, the Chinese government joined the Lakiran empire, even though Victoria had effectively controlled them for years.

“How was she found?” Alex asked.

“People called in about someone with some weird something going on. She also posted on forums asking about herself. Then the police took her.”

“Okay, but how did we find her?”

He shrugged. “They called us?”

Useless guesses.

Alex moved on. “Who else knows about this?”

Another shrug. “The military guys who brought her might know. I guess some Chinese police would too. I tried to keep her away from people, like you ordered.”

“Any idea what she does?”

“The Chinese think she was mind-controlling people around her, but they aren’t using those hacked plaques yet. I read her. She thinks she’s making people around her like her.”

“I see. Do you like her?”

Yet another fucking shrug. “She’s easy on the eyes. I guess the Chinese like her. They brought her in, but then let her go.”

It was in the report. Released twice. Charges dropped without explanation. Brought back each time. People got fired over her.

The rest of the report was skimpy—probably for the best. “Well, let’s go meet her.”

Ben led him to the briefing room. Alex sat before the woman while Ben took station at the door. She was maybe early thirties, round faced, and still wearing a wrinkled, white smock she’d had on when the police marched her from her greenhouse sector. In her eyes, Alex saw that she hadn’t slept since exemplars flew her to this detention camp. Lakiran retrieval hadn’t told her where they were taking her, or why. All she knew was it had something to do with this power of hers.

Alex had his own glyphs. He studied her with the experience of someone who’d been looking in Christof’s mind for centuries. Making people like her wasn’t quite right. She garnered sympathy. That was Alex’s guess anyway. It matched with what he saw in her head.

On her own, she’d experimented to learn her power, although all her tests were amazingly pedestrian. She had no intention of using her power to advance her station. If anything, she hated the attention it gave her.

The only time she’d used it on purpose was to at the Hangzhou police station—to save herself from the clutches of a police force holding her without charge, and the guilt from that actually kept her up at night.

The poor woman didn’t understand how the world worked yet. She’d learn quickly.

Alex opened a notebook and began sketching. From her perspective, he seemed like he was drawing her, but no. Alex had read Paul’s mind a hundred times. He knew the gist of drawing glyphs from flairs. It certainly wasn’t easy.

“Hello.” Alex kept drawing. “Your name is Liu Fen?”

Fen nodded at the sound of her name, but she didn’t speak of word of English. Fantastic. Back in the 1800s, Sakhr and the coven had spent time in China, but that was long ago. Alex hadn’t practiced Mandarin since then, so he relied on his usual advantage: telepathy. He pried around her mind for the words he needed.

“Can you understand me?” he said in his best Mandarin.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“No. You are the empire?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Cho Eun-Yeong. I head the Exemplar Committee.”

Fen frowned. “You?”

“Yes.” He sketched on. “I’m young, I know, but no less qualified. There’ve been changes in cabinet these past few weeks. Anyway, you do know why you’re here. Tell me.”

She hesitated.

“Come on now. Why is it?”

“I don’t know. Please. I’ve done nothing wrong. I just want to go home.”

Her power flexed. That was always Christof’s word, and it fit. Alex wondered what he’d be thinking right now if he didn’t have his shield glyph. Would it be subtle? Or would he be a changed man?

“Come now, Ms. Fen. You know you have a gift. You should be celebrating it. It makes you special.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

Power or not, her fearful eyes could melt hearts.

“Nothing bad. We brought you here because you could be a great asset to the empire. How would you like that?”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t want this power. Everyone has harassed me since I got it.”

“You didn’t get it, Ms. Fen. You’ve had it all along.”

“That’s not true. It was those glyph cards. They did something to give it to me.”

“No. You’re a… a flair.” He said the word in english. “And you’ve been using your power your entire life.”

Liu recoiled. “That is not true. I have never forced anyone to like me. Ever.”

“Your parents died when you were young, correct?”

“…Yes?”

“You went into the adoption agency at the age of…” he studied her eyes. She looked down, aware of what he was doing, but he already got it. He’d gotten everything. “…eleven. It then took you seven months before your new family took you in. Most of that was spent on paperwork. That’s incredibly quick, isn’t it? Especially for a child your age.”

“I did not use this curse on my family.”

“Of course not, but what about later? How’d you fare during the famine? Pretty well from what I can see. Many starved to death. Did you even lose weight?”

“I didn’t take food. I earned it. I worked.” Her power flexed and pulsed.

“Yes. You worked, while a billion other jobless Chinese lay in the streets dying. And your job? A botanist with the People’s Reconstruction Movement. Pretty cushy, high-tech job, wouldn’t you say? Especially since your degree is in computer graphics.”

“I did not!”

“And aren’t you one of the only women there?”

” I did not make anyone think different of me.”

“Congratulations on your raise, by the way.”

Please stop.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You didn’t even know you had it. Most flairs don’t. They might go their entire lives without knowing they’re special. Take… Alexander John Druitt. Have you heard of him?”

She was silently crying.

He kept on. “He was the original mind reader, and he went three decades without knowing about his gift. Just an everyday dockworker, but when he looked into someone’s eyes, thoughts filled his head, but thoughts are always filling our heads, right? He didn’t realize they were coming from the other person. He just figured he was good at guessing what others were thinking. If others hadn’t shown him the truth, he would have lived and died never realizing his true potential. You know your power now. You’re already learning to control it. That’s the first step. Now you can build it, nurture it.”

“I don’t want to. Please. I just want to go home and live my life.”

“You can’t do that anymore, Fen. If you leave us, someone else will come for you. You’re in the game now.” Alex finished making her glyph after several failed attempts. The final stroke was like putting the final cog in a clock. It came to life. Inside himself, something shifted. He wriggled and flexed it. Fen was now slightly more sympathetic toward him, though he saw now that the change was subtle. If not for his Empathy, he wouldn’t have noticed.

Beside him, Ben was… oh dear.

Alex hadn’t been paying attention. Ben was feeling powerful emotions toward Fen—fidgety, frantic attachment. Ben knew what Alex intended for this girl, even if Alex dressed it up as though he were helping her. Now Ben was on the verge of action, and he was the only one with a weapon.

Alex plied his newfound power on Ben, stringing connections to him like spider strands, but Fen was working him much faster. She was the natural, and she was actually in a sympathetic situation.

“Look,” Alex spoke as though nothing was going on. “I understand this is a lot to take in. You’re tired. You’ve been shipped across the world. For that, I’m sorry. Please, stay for the night. Get some sleep. Eat something. Tomorrow, let me say my piece. If you still want to go home, I will personally see to it, and I’ll make sure that you’re compensated for your time. How’s that sound?”

Fen’s flexing lessened. She nodded. Ben eased.

“Great. Wait here.” To Ben, he spoke english. “Come.”

Back in the observation room., Ben turned to him. “What’s going to happen to her?” His aura tensed, then muted—a common reaction when people realize others can see their aura. He was controlling himself, hiding his emotions.

“Feeling sympathetic toward her I see. She’s gotten into your head, you know.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“Relax.” Alex fetched his pack, which he’d left on the table. He rummaged for a folder and carefully stowed his new glyph. “She’s an asset. We’re going to treat her like a princess.”

“She didn’t seem all that happy,” Ben said.

“She’s scared.”

“Didn’t she say she wants to go home?”

“Yes. She did. How did you…” Alex looked him in the eye. Ben had scanned the girl while transporting her and learned all about her worries.

“If she wants to go home,” Ben said, “then we should take her home. We shouldn’t make her stay here.”

“We shouldn’t? Listen. I want you to try hard for a moment of self awareness. In this week alone, I must have had you abduct and kill over a dozen people. Most were only guilty of having a healthy dose of suspicion. You didn’t care about them. Now this girl shows up who can can manipulate the sympathy of others, and suddenly you care. One might even say you’re sympathetic toward her. That doesn’t strike you as fishy?”

“Maybe it’s not just her. Maybe I’m just getting sick of all these people you’re making me hurt.”

“Try. Hard. Put your emotions in a box. Be as objective as possible and reflect on your feelings. You don’t think they’re a little misplaced?”

“No. I didn’t sign up to kill people all day. She’s nothing to do about it.”

Alex looked him in the eye. “And you really believe that too, don’t you? Fascinating.”

He drew a gun from his pack and shot Ben in the head. A fan of blood appeared across the monitors. Ben crumpled. A second later, a pop came from the plaque still loosely gripped in his hand. Smoke seeped from its edges.

Alex had braced for a deafening gunshot, but this repulse-based gun hardly made a click. Technology was great, wasn’t it?

Taking his pack, he stepped over the body and returned to the observation room. Outside the door, he stopped. With this new sympathy glyph in his possession, he could use Fen’s power against her until she was putty to him. He’d put her to training as Victoria would. Her power certainly had room to grow. It could be stronger, affect more people, reach farther. Not to mention there were many limits he’d like to test. He wasn’t even sure yet whether the power’s effect was permanent or not.

But he was not a stupid man. He learned from the mistakes of others, such as Katherine. She’d been greedy to keep Sakhr alive so she might one day extract a modicum of extra power from him. Look what it had cost her? And Fen had twisted Ben to her favor in mere minutes.

Nope. It was time to be smart.

Alex opened the door and leveled the gun at Fen. “On second thought…”

Her eyes widened. Flechettes punched through her. She sprawled. Her chair toppled. Alex walked around the table and fired another shot.

He loved this gun.

Pity about the girl though. If times were different, she could have been a valuable tool, but her glyph would have to do. He should make a backup though. Loose leaf paper wasn’t exactly robust.

75. Wingmen

As Alex stood in the doorway, Quentin scrutinized his eyes. Alex saw that Quentin had gotten his hands on one of the hacked plaques from the public assembler library before LakiraLabs shut it down, and was trying to read his mind. Quentin had actually ventured from the coddling confines of his personal hotel suite to read minds of strangers, and to hit on women. He’d pulled some amateur tricks, such as convincing girls he’d met them before, or pretending to have the exact qualities the women looked for in men. Despite this advantage, his winning personality had driven them away.

Now, he’d invited Alex over on the pretense of drinks, only for Alex to suffer this eyeballing at the door.

“Damn…” said Quentin. “I’m not getting anything.” He leaned closer as though that might solve it.

“You sure?” said Alex. “You want to try for a few more minutes while I stand in the hall? Go ahead. There are a few more years of your childhood I haven’t yet perused.”

“What the hell, man?” Quentin broke eye contact. “Fine, come in. I finally get a chance to use these powers and they don’t even work on you.”

Alex stepped in. “I’ve told you before, I have a shield.” A brand new one too, since his last one broke this morning from his little excursion in Lyons.

“Unfair. Can I have one too?”

“I’ve got the only one that’s not inside an exemplar plaque, and Sakhr doesn’t want me giving one to anyone else.”

Quentin shrugged. “You know, I should be able to make a copy of yours now, right? I mean, it’s a shield glyph, but that wouldn’t stop me from copying it if it were on the table.”

“Sorry. Strictly forbidden.”

“Come on. Sakhr doesn’t have to know.”

“He would find out. His paranoia regularly has him scanning me.”

“Gaaay.”

“Yeah. Gay.”

They went to the kitchen. Quentin had bottles of liquor on the counter.

“What’s all this?” Alex asked.

“Pregame. We’re going out tonight. Way I figure, these glyphs are going to be common in a day or two. We gotta take advantage now.”

You gotta, you mean. I’ve been taking advantage of it for centuries.”

“Yeah?” Quentin looked through the bottles. “Did you ever have a wingman? Hmm? How bout it? You and me on the prowl.”

Alex pretended to consider it, although he’d made up his mind at the door when he saw this half-baked idea in Quentin’s head. “I’m sure we’d make quite a pair: a middle-aged doctor and a teenage girl.”

“That’s not my fault. We could go body surfing, but his royal tight-ass has the monopoly on that. But we could still pull it off. Who doesn’t want to hook up with a rich-ass doctor who knows how to have fun? And you could get yourself a little girl-on-girl. Have you tried that yet?”

“I’m sure that’d be delightful, but I’m afraid we can’t go out.”

“What? Why not?”

“Now that anyone can copy a flair, Sakhr doesn’t want to risk anyone getting a hold of yours. You’re under house arrest until further notice.”

What the fuck? Who does he think he is?”

“The queen?”

“No one would even know how to copy my power. I tried. I sat in front of a mirror all afternoon. Do I even have the right glyphs for it?”

“Yes. It’s just tricky. It took Paul an entire summer to figure it out the first time.”

“So what’s the big deal? No one’s going to copy my power.”

Alex shrugged helplessly. “Not my call.”

“Then just give me a shield glyph then.”

“Can’t.”

“Oh, fucking come on! For one night. I’m not going to copy it.”

“In the wake of this leak, Sakhr is more paranoid than ever.”

“Hold on.” Quentin held up a hand. “You said earlier that my glyph doesn’t even work well for other people. You said that’s why Victoria kept me around?”

Again, Alex shrugged. “I know. I know. But I’m not the one calling the shots around here.”

“Fuck that guy. Seriously.” Quentin poured Alex and himself a shot of Scotch. “I guess we’re staying in tonight, hmm?”

Alex held onto his shot as Quentin downed his. “You know… Maybe we could go out. One last time before your lockdown goes into effect. Like you said, hardly anyone has any glyphs out there.”

Quentin looked up at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you a temporary shield. For tonight. I’ll have some exemplars watch over us.”

“They won’t tell?”

“They know who recruited them. How bout it? I’ll show you how you’re supposed to use telepathy.”

“Yeah? All right!”

“Lift up your shirt.”

Quentin blinked. “What?”

“I’m going to draw the shield glyph on your back. That way you can’t lose it. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but…”

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s cool.” Quentin took off his shirt. Alex took out his laminated shield glyph and doodled on Quentin’s back with a pen. At the end of the night, he’d be wiping it off and checking Quentin’s mind for any foul play, and even then he knew that taking this risk would make Sakhr ballistic. But all investments had risks.

When Alex finished the final stroke, Quentin’s aura faded away like an afterimage. “Done.”

“Awesome. Pre-game then?” Quentin poured himself another shot and held it in toast. “Two men on the prowl.”

Alex toasted, but merely sipped his drink. “Don’t know if I’ll partaking tonight, but I’ll try not to let you embarrass yourself like you did this morning.”

“You saw that, huh?” Quentin chuckled. “Well, I’ve been out of the game a little while.” He poured himself another shot, but seeing Alex’s drink untouched, he waited. “I bet Sakhr is freaking the fuck out right now with all this glyph stuff.”

“He’s been better.”

“Is the empire going to shut these glyphs down?”

Alex’s eyebrows raised. “How? They’re in the wild now.”

Quentin thought about it. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s like a virus, isn’t it?” He took his shot. Wincing, he thought of something. “What are ya’ll going to do about the new flairs popping up?”

“Hmm?”

“You guys said there are flairs hidden over the world. It’s just about finding them, but that’s what this glyph is, right?” He took his glyph card out and pointed to Christof’s glyph. “I mean, I can see my own flair now too. Won’t that mean that if any more flairs are out there, they’re going to be found out real soon?”

“Ye— yeah.” That was… actually a good point. In the rush to catch Katherine’s elusive flairs, Alex hadn’t stopped to think about what others might be out there. Not even Sakhr had thought of that. Based off Christof’s old estimates, there might only be a couple in all the world, but still.

“I guess you guys will find out when their glyphs start circulating,” Quentin said.

“No,” Alex said. “They won’t. Copying another glyph is one thing, but like you found out, creating a glyph from a flair is something else entirely. People might sense there’s a flair inside them. They might even figure out they have a power, but I doubt they’ll figure out how to copy it. They probably won’t even realize it’s possible.”

“But you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah. I could.” Alex gulped his Scotch.

74. Magic Tricks

And now, if one of these beautiful ladies would step forward,” said the performer. He ran along the perimeter of his small stage, which was nothing more than a portion of the street dictated by a crowd packed in a circle about him.

“He wants someone from the audience now,” Josephine said.

Naema knew what the man had said. She didn’t speak much french, but enough. Oni would be the same, and their mother certainly understood him. She’d grown up speaking more french than english. Josephine was really only translating for Tan.

From the crowd, the performer pulled a woman, who blushed and giggled. The man bantered with her for a minute, getting her name and what she did. Then he asked if she ever had dirty thoughts. She blushed. Of course she had. There’s no need to share them, he said, but has she ever been afraid that someone might pluck those dirty thoughts from her mind.

“And here we go,” Josephine said. “He’s got one too.”

After a little more flourish, this performer took out a whiteboard and her write a word down that no one, not even the audience, could see. Then he dramatically peered into her eyes as he tried to divine the answer.

That was one way to do it. The first street performer they’d seen had been more personal. Instead of trying to prove to the entire audience he could read minds, he’d just gone around looking people in the eye and listing facts about their childhood.

Of course, it had failed. The second performer they’d found had failed as well. He’d actually handed a strange totem over to an audience participant and invited them to try reading his mind. After they floundered it, he’d just about accused them of trying to make him look bad. His crowd had dispersed quickly after that.

This man too was already flailing. He made a few bad guesses, though those might have just been for humor or to build suspense, but then the bad guesses kept coming. The girl kept saying no. The performer made a few quips about how the girl’s dirty thoughts are crowding her mind, but hardly anyone laughed. He went back to peering into her eyes, but this time with serious concentration. Two more wrong guesses, and he admitted he just kept getting lost in her mind. He smiled and laughed it off, showing better humor about it than the other performers.

Finally he had the woman reveal the word on the white board. It was babouin, or baboon. Afterward, he excused himself, saying he would return as soon as his mental powers had recovered.

The crowd dispersed as he packed away his props.

“Take me to him,” Josephine said. Mama pushed Josephine’s wheelchair toward the man. She’d become Josephine’s caretaker after treating Josephine’s flechette wounds acquired during their escape last week. Josephine had been bedridden ever since, and after a week without any sign of Lakirans on their trail, she’d become antsy to get outside. Everyone had been. So after Tan stole a wheelchair, they came out as a group to explore Lyon’s famed Saône market.

Josephine reached the man. Naema, Oni, and Tan followed beside her.

“Pardon moi,” Josephine said.

The man turned.

Josephine was holding up the exact same kind of card. At first glance, it might have seemed like a credit card, as Naema had thought it was when Josephine took it from the first performer.

The man glanced at it, then looked about. He shrugged, as though to say what of it?

“So?” he said. “Good for you. You’re not going to ruin a man’s act, are you?” His french had switched to a fast local dialect that Naema had trouble understanding.

“No,” Josephine replied. “I just want to know where you got yours. We’ve met a few other people with these, but all the sites they recommend have been taken down.”

“Whatever. Just copy it.” The man took out a stack of playing cards, though instead of a number and suit, each one had a single glyph drawn on it with a marker.

So this man had had the same idea as the other performers: wow the audience with a display of mind-reading, then reveal that the powers could be anyone’s… for a price. The first was offering at twenty francs. The other went as high as one hundred. Interestingly, the cards this man possessed had only single glyphs on them, and none had the glyph that allowed copying, as described on the back of the sleek black card Josephine held.

“I would,” Josephine said, “but mine is broken.”

The man was flicking through his playing cards now. “Yes. Mine too. Can’t help you.”

“Where did you download the first one?”

“A site. I don’t remember.”

“How did you get to that site?”

“A forum. I said I don’t remember. It’s probably down now.”

“Here,” Josephine held up her tablet. “There’s a cafe just up the street. Could you show us where you got it? You’ll have to get a new one anyway. All your glyphs are broken now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Aren’t they?”

The man was still thumbing through his deck, but just holding them all in his hand answered his question. If a single glyph in that pack worked, he’d see through Josephine’s eyes just fine, but he couldn’t.

“Did you break these?” he said.

“No, but they’re broken. Just use our tablet. Come on.”

“I’ll get it on my own. Leave me be.”

“Okay then,” Josephine replied. “Show us where you got that glyph, or we’ll tell your audience that those cards you’re trying to sell are free online.”

“Fuck off.”

“Your call.”

Fuck off.”

She turned to Naema. In english, “Could you close your eyes for a second?”

Naema did so, as well as plastering her hands over her ears and humming. It actually made a difference. Eyes closed wasn’t enough anymore if she could hear that Josephine was right next to her.

A moment later, someone tapped her. Eyes open, the man was still there, but his plastic black card was in Oni’s hand. Josephine was scanning through a phone. Naema knew it was the performer’s, but the performer had returned to thumbing through his playing cards, hardly aware that the others were even there.

Josephine motioned for the group to move on. Up the street, Josephine sneered and handed the phone to Oni. “This doesn’t tell me anything. Go give it back.”

“Why?” asked Oni.

“Because she said so,” Mama replied.

“It’s not like he remembers you took it. Isn’t that your thing?”

“Oni…” Mama’s tone brooked no argument.

Oni ran back to the man. After tossing the phone into the startled man’s lap, he hurried back.

“Naema. Go home,” he said.

“No. Shut up.”

“You keep breaking them. We can’t try until you leave.”

“Boy,” said Mama. “Leave your sister alone.”

“But this is stupid. Why are we bringing her with us to find these?”

“I just want to know where they’re getting them,” Josephine said. “If these people would just tell me, we could have one for ourselves, but if we had one for ourselves, I could read their minds to find out, but then I wouldn’t need to. It’s silly. I know more about where these powers came from than anyone else, but we can’t get them because we slept through their release.”

“But Oni’s right,” Naema said. “What’s the point? Unless you get rid of me.”

“It could still be useful. If we got the file to assemble it, then we could print one out when we need it. Or just copy it somewhere safe. You could leave the room for a minute while we read whatever minds we need.”

“I just want to try it,” Oni said.

“That too,” Josephine admitted. “I’m curious what they’re like.”

“Then… what?” Naema said. “Do you want me to go home?”

“No,” replied Mama. “It is dangerous to split up.”

“The Lakirans are gone, Mama.”

“They know you are special, girl. They won’t give up.”

“It’s been a whole week,” Naema argued. “They weren’t even here in the first place. They were in Paris.”

“Look around, girl. Do you see see any other black people? I feel their eyes all day.”

“Whatever. I’ll just go home. It’s not like I’m missing much.”

Apart from a few street performers and clustered market stalls, the Saône market had been a dud. The Lakirans had been gone for a week. Food hoarding had started within an hour of their departure.

“But still,” said Josephine. “You don’t need to split up just for this. Besides, you can’t go home without me. Our generous hosts might remember that they don’t know you.”

“Then I’ll wait here.”

“No, Naema. We’re not going to leave you behind.”

“It’s no problem.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine.”

Josephine dropped her parental facade. “Okay then! We won’t be long. Tan, can you find us another one?”

Tan nodded. After some dice rolls out of Naema’s view, he sauntered off in a direction.

Mama pushed Josephine along. Oni followed.

“Oni. Stay with your sister.”

“But I want to come. I want to see them too.”

“Fine. I’ll stay. You go. Push.” She gestured for Oni to take over as Josephine’s wheelchair assistant. He did so happily.

“I promise we won’t be long,” Josephine called over her shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Naema said.

The others left. It was nice of Mama to stay; Naema didn’t want to be completely alone, although it seemed like she should probably get used to it. This was going to be a common occurrence.

“Come, girl,” Mama said. “I want to sit.”

They sat on a bench nearby and watched people pass. Naema realized that this was the first time she’d been alone with her mother since before Josephine had entered her life. This past last week, Josephine and Tan had always been there. While cramped together hiding out in their current home, Mama had tended to Josephine’s legs. The two had been constantly together. By the end they chatted like Saturday evening bridge players. But now Josephine wasn’t here. Naema felt like she should say something.

Yet she and her mother simply sat together.

“You cold?” Mama said.

“No,” Naema replied.

“You must get more clothes, girl, or you freeze. It is colder here than back home.”

“I’m fine. You should get clothes.”

“You and me both. I’ll ask Josephine. We go find an assembler and print them. We can do that. Amazing what they can make. We never had that in Nigeria.”

“Not in public,” Naema replied. “Josephine says they had those kind in the CivMan buildings.”

“Of course they did.” Mama watched the passing crowds. “How are you, girl?”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“We haven’t been alone together since we came here. You are different. What is in your head?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to your mama, girl.”

“Nothing, I swear.”

Mama eyed her.

“There is something wrong with you if there are no worries in your head.”

Naema didn’t respond for a while. “Where are we going?”

“You mean after France?”

“I mean after all of it. We’ll be in France until the Lakirans return. Then where?”

“I don’t know. We’ll go where we go.”

“Until the Lakirans go there too.”

“The Lakirans have their own problems. The queen is dead.”

“Ya, I know. Josephine acts like we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, but we’re living in a house with strangers. We snuck out today like we’re scared dogs. She thinks we’re still being hunted.”

“Ya, but they have always hunted us. When was the last time you and Oni did not avoid the Lakirans?”

“We weren’t running. We lived at home.”

“The Lakirans left Nigeria too. Now people there starve. Tell me, girl. Are you hungry?”

“No.”

Voila. I am not hungry. Oni is not hungry. We run, but we are better for it.”

“I guess so.”

“Stop worrying, girl. Hard times may come, yes, but you can handle them.” Mama hooked an arm over Naema and pulled her in. “You are strong.”

“If you say so, Mama.”

“I do.”

They watched the crowd together. Naema no longer felt the need to fill the silence.

“Excuse moi.”

Naema looked. A young girl had approached their bench. She was very short, and couldn’t possibly be over eighteen. “May I sit here?” Despite being asian, her french was impeccable.

Naema shrugged. The girl smiled sweetly and plopped down beside them. Her ears both sported wireless earbuds.

There were several other empty benches. The girl seemed oblivious to them all. Naema and Mama kept watching the passing crowd, but it was different now. This was no longer their moment. Naema glanced about to see if the others were returning yet.

Meanwhile, the girl pulled out a tablet. It was top of the line, not assembler-made. All the while she hummed.

Both Naema and her mother watched her. She seemed just as out of place as them; it was wrong.

The girl pulled one earbud out. “Are you two enjoying Lyons?” Again in perfect french.

“What?”

“It’s just you two stick out like flies in milk. You’re visiting right? Or did you come to stay?”

Naema glanced around. Flags were going up inside her head. She wanted to get up and walk off. Mama took her arm back from around Naema. She sensed it too. This girl singled them out as outsiders, and now she’s cozying up to them. Nigeria had its share of criminals and thieves.

“We are visiting,” Mama said.

“Oh, from where?”

“From down south. Excuse us. We must go.” Mama stood. Naema followed.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” the girl said. “Please. Don’t let me drive you away. I’ll be quiet.”

“We have to go anyway,” Naema replied.

“Wait. May I show you something. Look at this.” The girl thrust her tablet toward Mama.

It showed a fullscreen image… of them, and it was live. Naema snapped around to see where the camera was. Along the top floor of the corresponding building, all windows were shuttered. No cameras, no partner in crime.

Mama was already pulling Naema away to leave when Naema spotted it, suspended before a nest of water heaters. It was a MobCam—a small sphere of tech that acted as the eyes and ears for the Lakiran military during an occupation.

Turning, Naema pushed her mother to run.

“Na ah ah,” the girl said. “Don’t move. If you move fifteen paces away, they will shoot your mother. Or was it ten? I forget what I told them. Just stay still and you’re fine.”

Mama glared at her. Naema looked around. There were multistory buildings everywhere: along the street, across the river, circling the plaza. Anyone could be watching.

“This is going to be really simple. You…” The girl pointed at Naema, “… will be coming with me. If you cooperate, your mother will get to stay and tell your friends what happened. If you don’t, your friends will have to make their own guesses when they find her body.”

Despite everything Naema had seen about the Lakirans being gone, here they were, in the middle of abandoned territory. It had been idiotic to split up. It had been idiotic just to leave the house. Had they been watching all time? Or had they just found her now? It had to be now. Tan had left the house so many times this week to filch supplies. Surely they would have taken him.

“Ten seconds.” The girl said. “Your mother sits on this bench while you and I leave.”

They wanted Naema alive. If she stayed close to her mother, whoever was watching might not take the shot. She could tackle the girl, threaten to hurt her if they hurt Mama. The girl looked like a twig; it would be easy. Or Naema could stall. Josephine would be back soon.

“Tick tock.”

“How do I know you won’t just shoot her after we’re gone?” Naema asked.

“Because I don’t care. Now come along.”

Naema kept her eyes on the girl. Whenever Josephine returned, as long as Naema didn’t look at her, she could work her magic on this girl. Finding whatever snipers there may be would require Tan.

“Let her walk away first, and then I’ll come.”

“Naema.” Mama murmured. “Just go. Run.”

“No, Mama. I’m not going.”

“I can hear you,” the girl said.

Mama grabbed Naema. “Listen, girl. Go. Now. Scream. Run. They won’t shoot you.”

“No.”

“No. Now. Go.”

The girl sighed. “Ah fine.” She pulled something from her purse and aimed it. Naema got a quick glint of metal. She turned to run, and electricity exploded through her body.

That was the last thing she remembered.

73. Jade

The jade figurine was handcrafted during the late Zhou dynasty by the renowned Qing Doe. It was of an elephant sitting by her young, and the level of detail was extraordinary. Miraculously, rescue workers found it in near pristine condition in the rubble of the Capital Tower. After they sent it out to a specialist in South Brazil for repairs, they returned it to its rightful place upon the desk of Queen Helena.

All of this, it seemed, so Sakhr could hurl it against the wall. It certainly was a profound way to start off what was bound to be particularly grueling lecture.

Alex stared at the tiny green pieces as Sakhr yelled. He pondered how he knew so much about the figurine. He must have scraped it from an exemplar who scanned whoever delivered it. Distantly, he wondered how easily a modern day assembler could reproduce it. Could they make jade? Would people consider it worthless? Could the machine intentionally make flaws so that people might believe it was actually valuable?

Sakhr still yelled. “How? How the hell could you allow this to happen?”

“You want specifics?” answered Alex. “He was left alone in a room with an assembler. You’d have to ask him if you want more details than that.”

“They’re still hosing his damn remains off the deck.”

“Guess he won’t be that talkative then.”

“You were with him for six goddamn days. Six days. How the hell didn’t you see this coming?”

“He didn’t think of it beforehand. I did see, however, that he was considering killing himself, which was why I said we should keep him in observation.”

You were supposed to be observing him.”

“Me? Personally? I have way too much going on to babysit an old man.”

“He was within all of your exemplars’ ranges.”

“Look. They’re new. Everything is new. We’ve only been in charge for a week and everything is moving so quickly. Let this slide. No one could have seen this coming. So let’s just look to the future and adjust.”

Adjust? Our greatest edge was just released to the entire world because your thugs couldn’t recognize an aura of someone up to no good.”

“It wasn’t our greatest edge. That’s the shield, and we’ve got it now, and it’s ours alone. The way I see it, all we have to do is spin this, and we’ll come out ahead.”

Sakhr glared. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

“First, we make the leak our idea. Paul never identified himself in his post. So why don’t you take credit for it? Tell the world that now that Victoria is dead, you finally had access to these glyphs. Against the advice of your ministers, you decided to release it to the public. It’s wrong the government should have all the power.”

“Why in the world would anyone believe that?”

“Because we’ll have witnesses. A few ministers will recall your saying the glyphs should be released. Now you’ve gone over their heads. You are Prometheus. You have given fire to the people, and it can’t be taken back.”

“The people won’t believe it.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“No, Alex. You don’t get it. We can’t lie anymore. What if they demand these witnesses be scanned? They have that power now.”

“They can’t all scan the witnesses. We’ll delegate the scanners. They’ll say the witnesses are telling the truth. Then we can scan the scanners, and they can be verified too. Honestly, all releasing these glyphs will do is make so people feel like we must be telling the truth, because how could we possibly lie? These glyphs are just giving us another way of convincing people whatever we want.”

“These are just weak justifications to excuse your failure.”

“Doesn’t make it less true.”

Alex had that smile again, the one Sakhr perpetually wished to slap off his face. He always had that grin when he had a point. While Paul was ruining their edge, Sakhr and Alex had been with Sara, the young girl who’s flair was the shield. It had taken two hours and the help of Sara’s brother Bryan, but the girl finally signed over her power onto an ordinary piece of paper.

Sighing, Sakhr circled his desk and sat down. Sibyl stood by his side, forever the ornament.

“We do have the shield,” Alex said. “This means no accidental scannings. We can still control information.”

“We can distribute mind reading glyphs to our military and law enforcement to help quell the rebellions,” Sakhr said.

“There you go.”

“We don’t need the exemplars anymore. We could disband them.”

And Alex’s smile went away. “I mean, I guess. Why?”

“Why do we need them at all if our military can now do the same thing they could? Everyone will have plaques. Our overseas operations will no longer be tied up because of the exemplar shortage.”

“But the exemplars are the only people who actually know our situation. We can count on them to enforce our secret.”

“Can we? The last few batches you’ve replaced weren’t even detainees, were they? You’ve been pulling from prisons.”

“There weren’t any detainees left who were any good. I’m very careful about who I pick. I look for trustworthiness.”

“They’re liabilities, Alex, and we don’t need them anymore. We only got them in the first place because we couldn’t protect ourselves from the original exemplars. Now we can. You’re right. This actually solves many problems. We’ll just dispose of the Exemplar Committee entirely.”

“Let’s not get hasty. We can’t hand out the shield glyph unless we want people copying it for themselves. Trust me, I tried. You can copy a shield glyph. The piece of paper doesn’t protect itself. Our new plaque assembler won’t be done for a few more days, and even then, it takes time to make those things. We can’t just get rid of the exemplars overnight.”

“I’m not proposing we do. We’ll phase the old ones out, like we agreed. We will not surround ourselves with thieves and murderers.”

“Okay. Okay. I will.” His smile returned. He and Sakhr looked at each other across the desk. Sakhr was resting one hand on Sibyl’s glyph, but he saw nothing in Alex’s eyes. Alex was already shielded.

“But first,” Alex said, “I’d like to use the exemplars for a little side mission of mine.”

“Which is?”

“Well, it turns out releasing these glyphs had a silver lining. Do you remember those… ugh, flairs that Katherine was supposedly hunting before we escaped? The ones we’d lost all track of in the ruckus? Thanks to Christof’s glyph being everywhere, they’ve turned up. Someone reported them in France.”

“What are their powers?”

“Between them, they can ruin plaques, erase your memory, and… do somersaults or something. No one’s sure about the last one. Between them all, Katherine was having a hell of a time catching them.”

“Memory erasure?” Sakhr asked.

“Memory erasure,” Alex confirmed. “We know where they are. How many there are, and I’ve already got a plan to take them, but I need people for that. Do we send the military after them and have it be public knowledge that you’ve got mind erasing at your disposal? Or shall we send the lowdown no-good exemplars—the ones who’ve been keeping our secrets?”

Sakhr’s look was withering.

69. Your Session Has Expired

Mind clear.

Nothing.

All Winnie knew of was what her natural senses told her. The air was cool and dry. Wind whispered from the car’s air conditioning vents. Children shrieked and giggled in the park outside. The leather seats crinkled beneath her with every shift she made. She was sitting in a rental car that Victoria had picked up after they got off the repulse grid, and they’d stopped at a market in Mexico. Victoria was picking up supplies while Winnie was supposed to be practicing.

First, her warmup exercise. Winnie visualized the kitchenette where Alex had kept her and Winnie. No trouble. She didn’t even know whether the citadel had moved or not; her mind went straight there.

Next, she visualized the moon landing. There were the footprints and the bleached American flag. Everything looked the same, except for being dark. The earth glowed high above in the moon’s sky. Asia was facing the moon right now.

Next, she visualized a hopper that had been traveling ahead of her and Victoria during the South American leg of their trip. It had originally contained a young couple who’d argued in Portugese. It seemed like they were on a vacation. When Winnie visualized that hopper, she didn’t look at it as a whole, but rather she looked inside of it to see if the couple were still there. They weren’t. When Winnie pulled her focus away, she saw the the hopper was parked in a lot in Honduras. That was progress. Yesterday, she would not have been able to pull that hopper into mind without first knowing where it was, but this was progress she’d made hours ago.

Her next goal was to visualize Victoria’s tattoo. She was somewhere in the market across the street from where they’d landed, but where she was exactly didn’t matter. Her current teenage body had a tattoo around her belly button. Winnie visualized her mind right against Victoria’s belly, staring down at her naval ash though it were a crater upon a landscape. It worked. Winnie saw it, which of course she did, Winnie thought. Winnie knew exactly where Victoria’s naval was relative to her body, just as she knew where the moon landing was relative to the moon. Only now she needed to expand her view and see the world outside this torso landscape.

She saw Victoria’s baggy T-shirt. Other tattoos lined her arms. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Then Winnie looked into the “sky”. Victoria was looking over dried and withered mangos. She was picking from a selection, watched over by a merchant who ignored her upturned disgust to favor other customers. More details washed in. Around her were other bins of equally frail fruits. It was the southeast corner of the market, where naturally grown foods were sold at astronomical prices.

Winnie checked that she wasn’t imagining any of this. She wasn’t. Victoria was in the same place when Winnie visualized the market separately.

That technically meant Winnie had just made a breakthrough. Victoria’s idea had been to imagine people more like astral bodies, and to instead locate something on them instead of them themselves. And it had worked.

She located Victoria. It had been that simple—underwhelming given the months of practice leading up to this. Victoria had said that when it finally happened, it would be as simple as something clicking into place—just a subtle change that made it right.

She tried it again on her mother by focusing upon her mother’s nose. Upon seeing it, she pulled away with much less careful mental preparation. Her mother was sitting on the couch at home. It didn’t seem like she was doing anything at all—another space out. Winnie had written her a message, but it looked like her mother hadn’t read it yet. She was notoriously slow about that. It was frustrating that she could have proof that her daughter was alive if she’d just grab the tablet on the side table right there. What mattered was that Winnie had succeeded once again in locating someone.

She tried yet again. This time, she focused on the naval of her original body, the one Alex had stolen from her. She hardly had to focus on it at all before taking all of the surrounding scene into mind. Alex was seated on a bed with legs curled beneath him as though fitting into the preteen girl persona.

But the bed he was on was… her bed?

Details flooded in quickly. Alex was in her dorm room on the Lakiran campus, looking through her tablet. Why? The campus was still evacuated. He shouldn’t be there. No one should. He was alone apart from the security team and the shuttle that brought him here.

He was paging through her contact list. With each entry, he opened the page and studied their info. One was Ray Mackerson, a boy she knew from Seattle. Alex paged down to look at what screen names, email addresses, and personal info was available. Every person Winnie knew would be on that list. Page after page of hostages.

Winnie snatched up Victoria’s tablet. She browsed to the same website. Her frantic hands failed the login password twice before she got in. Alex meanwhile had moved onto the next contact—a girl Winnie hardly knew from highschool. Alex only had to check her comment history to see who she was closest with. He’d know every person she even remotely cared about.

A message popped up warning her that this device had never been used with this account before. She had to type in more information before getting in. Her hands raced over the touch pad.

The next contact: Nava. She’d been on the cheerleading team with Winnie. With interest, Alex studied a picture containing both Nava and Winnie.

Winnie got in. She scanned for a “Change Password” page, filled out the form, and submitted.

When Alex tabbed back to the contact list, he was greeted by a new page.

Your session has expired.

A smile crept onto Alex’s face. “Someone’s watching, aren’t they? Thought you might.”

He minimized the browser. On the tablet’s desktop were many social media apps, all connected with friends or family in some way. Winnie would have to change the passwords on all of them. No. She’d have to delete them.

Alex clicked on her phone app, and Winnie immediately browsed for that app’s website. As she was logging on, Alex perused through her call history. Page after page of calls to the same number: her mother. She was the only person Winnie used this app for. All of her friends used something more modern, but her mother was slow to adopt. Alex pressed redial.

Winnie’s mind was already there when her mother’s tablet jingled. Her mother glanced at the caller ID, then explosively snatched the tablet up.

“Eun-Yeon?”

“Hi, Mom,” Alex said.

“Eun-Yeon? It’s you? I thought you were dead. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What’s been going on? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call until now. Security and all, you know?”

Winnie listened as she navigated through the phone app’s website. Alex wasn’t speaking like Winnie. He had an accent which he couldn’t quite hide. His word choices were wrong. He called her Mom. Until now, Alex hadn’t spoken to anyone who’d notice, but her mother might. Winnie could hope.

“What’s happening over there?”

“Oh, you know… Terrorist attacks.”

“Were you there? Where were you? Where are you now?”

“I was on the campus. There were a lot of soldiers, but everything is fine now. Security is still really high though.”

“Do you want to come home?” Her mother held her breath in hope. Winnie hit the submit button on the password change form. It confirmed.

“No, mom. I can’t come home right now, but I want to see you. Do you think you could visit me here?”

“Of course, sweetie. Would that be allowed? When should I come?”

The call wasn’t ending. Was it because it was already connected? Then what was Winnie supposed to do? The damage was being done now, not in a future call. She had to interrupt this one. But how? Call her mother while she was still on the phone with Alex? It might work, but Victoria had forbidden that.

Screw it. Winnie wasn’t going to let Alex get her mother just because of Victoria’s selfish rules.

As Alex and her mother worked out travel details, Winnie downloaded the app and logged on, hoping it might boot Alex.

It didn’t. She hovered her finger over the call button. Should she call right now? Alex might convince her mother not to pick up. The conversation seemed like it was ending anyway.

“I’ll be on the next flight out,” her mother said. “I just need to check my passport. It might be expired.”

“You don’t need a passport, mom. It’s the same empire.”

“Oh right.”

“I’ll make sure someone is there to meet you at Piaco airport. Just email me once you know your flight.”

“Oh! I’ll need to let Mary know I won’t be free this weekend.”

Alex shrugged carelessly, having no idea who Mary was. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then.”

Winnie’s mother rose and hurried toward the bedroom.

Hanging up, Alex looked up and addressed the empty air. “You get the idea, don’t you? Mumsy is on her way. How pleasant that visit will be is entirely up to you.”

Winnie pressed the dial button. The tablet chimed at her mother’s house. Her mother caught her step and turned back, confused.

“All I want you to do,” Alex continued, “is tell us where you are.”

Her mother accepted the call. “Did you forget something?”

Winnie’s voice caught. She hadn’t thought about how to approach this.

Alex kept addressing no one. “We want Victoria. Not you. Help us get her and everyone you know will be okay forever more. You have my word.”

“Hello?” her mother asked.

Eomeoni?” she said.

Mother frowned. “Who is this?”

“It’s me, eomma.” She spoke Korean. “Listen, I know you think we just talked on the phone, but it wasn’t me.”

“What?”

“There’s been a takeover in the empire. The person you just talked to… I know it sounded just like me, but it wasn’t. You can’t come to the empire. They’re going to take you hostage.”

“Hostage? Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“You don’t sound like my daughter. What is this about?”

“Please, eomma. I can prove its me. Ask me anything that only I would know.”

Mother stared at her tablet, then tapped the camera button. Winnie’s tablet prompted her to start a video call.

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t… I don’t have a camera on this tablet. I can see you though. I have my flair.”

Mother hung up. Winnie kept her mind on her, but split her attention to check Alex. He was still busy talking to an empty room, outlining exactly how Winnie was supposed to help him, and what would happen if she didn’t. Her mother was staring bewilderedly at her tablet. She moved to call Winnie, but hesitated.

Winnie redialed. She couldn’t risk that call going through to Alex.

Mother answered.

“It’s me again. Please don’t hang up.”

“Stop this,” she said. “I want to talk to my daughter.”

“It is me. I can see you with my flair. You’re wearing a green blouse and your black skirt, the one you replaced after you spilled sauté over it at Mary’s. You bought those bracelets from before the war when you and dad got lost that one time upstate. You always joke about how they didn’t use money there. All the antique stores just traded antiques back and forth like currency. Remember?”

Her mother looked around the room as though someone were over her shoulder.

“Please, listen. The bombing that happened last week was part of a coup. They’re making it seem like Queen Helena is in control, but she’s not.” Winnie stopped. If she kept on this track, she’d have to explain everything, from being a tortoise to being on the run with the queen, who wore the body of a teenage girl with a tattoo addiction. The more she’d explain, the less believable the story would sound. “I’m with people loyal to the queen right now. But the people who took over are trying to get to you because they want to control me. And if you don’t come to them, then they might come get you. That’s why you need to go into hiding.”

“Hiding?”

“Yeah.” This call was one hell of an unprepared mess. “With one of your friends that I don’t know about. Or go farther. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. I’ll know where you go though. I’ll find you with my power once everything is okay.”

“Why are you doing this? I want to speak to my daughter.”

“This is me.”

“No, it’s not. You sound nothing like her. This is not funny. Please, stop or I’ll call the police.”

“Please, eomma. I can prove it.”

“No. Stop this.”

“Just ask me—”

The car door opened. Victoria glared at Winnie.

“I have to go.” Winnie stabbed the end call button. She set the tablet back onto Victoria’s seat, remembered she was still logged on, and hurriedly began logging off. Victoria watched with piercing disappointment. Once Winnie finished, Victoria climbed in, set down a bag of groceries, and shut the door.

“I’m sorry,” said Winnie.

Victoria stared back, lips tight.

“Actually, No.” Winnie met Victoria’s eye. “I’m not sorry. Did you see what Alex was threatening to do to my mom? I don’t care where you’re taking me, but I’m not going to stand by and let them get her.”

Victoria’s silence was nearly more than Winnie could bear, yet she held her ground, looking right at Victoria to show her all that had transpired. If Victoria had a problem with it, then Winnie could get out and walk.

Victoria set the car to self-drive. Once they were back on the road, Victoria took up her tablet, pulled up a different communication app and typed in Winnie’s mother’s contact number.

“What are you doing?” Winnie asked.

Victoria made the call. Mother was still on her couch back home staring at her tablet when the call popped up on the screen.

“Why are you calling her?” Winnie asked more forcefully. Victoria held up a finger for silence.

Her mother let the call ring. The caller listed on her phone was only a series of numbers, no screen name. Finally she accepted.

“Hello?”

“Is this Kim Hye-jun?” Victoria said.

“Yes?”

Winnie was ready to snap the tablet from Victoria the moment the conversation went sour.

“This is High Exemplar Liat Delacroix. It’s come to my attention that you received a call from your daughter moments ago.”

“Yes. Ehh… Someone else called me too. I’m not sure who they were.”

“Indeed. I’m afraid the first call you received was not your daughter.”

“What?”

“The terrorist agents who we believe were responsible for the Capital bombing have been contacting family members of several personnel closely associated with the queen. They’re using voice modulation to mimic voice patterns. This has happened to several people already.”

“I… I want to speak with my daughter.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. We currently have a lockdown on all outside communication. She broke protocol contacting you.”

“Was that my daughter? It didn’t sound like her.”

“Winnie is suffering from a respiratory illness brought on by dust from the Capital bombing.”

“Oh. Is she going to be okay?”

Winnie wondered why her mother was buying all this. Victoria certainly sounded official, but didn’t her mother wonder why Victoria sounded like a teenager?

“She’ll be fine. What’s important right now is that under no circumstances are you to travel to the capital.”

“…Okay.”

“These agents are targeting your daughter because of her gift. There is a chance that they may come after you directly. If you ever planned to take a vacation, take it now. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. No one. Your daughter will know where you are and we’ll contact you once this situation is resolved.”

“What? You want me to leave? I must speak with my daughter, please. How do I know you are who you say you are?”

“Kim Hye-jun-ssi, I am High Exemplar Liat. I work directly for the queen and am assisting in the resolution of this crisis. Do as I say.”

All of Winnie’s mother’s uncertainty washed away. “Yes. Of course. I’ll leave tonight.”

“Good. You will hear from us.”

Victoria hung up.

Winnie saw in her head as her mother practically lunged toward the bedroom. Her suitcase was out in seconds. She lined clothes and toiletries up on the bed. Winnie had no doubt it was to this vacation she was traveling to, not the capital. That final command from Victoria still lingered in the air like a bubble refusing to pop. It had weight that seemed to smother doubt. Even recalling the sound of Victoria’s voice caused the hair’s on Winnie’s neck to stand.

“Thank you,” Winnie said.

“Hmm. Next time use your head. I’m not going to do that for all your friends. Now…” Victoria leaned in and peered into Winnie’s eyes. Her head tilted in curiosity. “You just had a break through with your power, didn’t you?”

“Uh, I think?”

“Show me.”

67. Custody

“Because they’re mine,” said Alex. “Sakhr gave them to me to make them cooperate.”

“You have nothing to gain from her,” replied Christof. “I don’t see why I should hand her over.”

They were arguing in Sakhr’s office while Sakhr was trying to work. They might as well have been arguing in a supply closet for all the interest Sakhr had in this conversation. Yet they kept turning to him to settle matters as though he was their parent. He was trying to attend to a multitude of issues that had come in, one being a staffing problem involving one of Victoria’s private estates along the Rio Jari down south. It seemed like a nice place: rustic, out of the way, private. He could leave for there and not tell anyone. Not the military. Not the ministers. Not Alex, or Christof, or Quentin, or anyone.

“There is plenty to gain,” Alex argued. “That girl is the far seeing one’s friend. If can get her back—”

“How? What are you going to do? Torture the friend and hope that the girl is looking?”

“That’s exactly it. Trust me. I’ve seen her mind. That girl will be watching Helena constantly.”

…Except disappearing wouldn’t work, Sakhr thought. Victoria was alive. He’d known in his gut that she was, but having Victoria rescue that girl just reasserted that Sakhr would never be safe. She was out there. She was watching. How else could she have known exactly when and where to be last night? In some ways, Sakhr was glad. She’d died too suddenly before. He and Victoria hadn’t… battled. Not to his satisfaction. Now she could witness him taking everything she’d worked so hard to build.

“This is not who we are,” Christof said. “We’ve been back in this world for a week and all we’ve done is prove exactly why Victoria locked us away to begin with.”

“First of all, her name is Katherine. Let’s not play into her make-believe. Secondly, nobody is asking you to do anything you don’t want to do, but Sakhr and I are trying to keep us alive.”

Of course, now Victoria had an edge, thanks to these bumbling cretins. She must have been watching all along, but now without the Korean, he could never stare back. There was no point in going after them. They could be in any place and in any body. Only exemplars could find her, and he sure as hell wouldn’t trust a task like that to the breed of stock Alex had been recruiting. Maybe once he had true loyalists of his own, except that was so far down the line he wouldn’t even waste time thinking about it.

If he could just get her coordinate location. Cruise missiles don’t ask questions.

How he did love having a military at his disposal.

“We don’t have time for your sentimentalism,” Alex said. “Sakhr gave the tortoises to me, not you, because he knew I’d get results.”

“And what do you have to show for it? Paul hasn’t given you his glyph, and now you’ve lost a tortoise.”

“Not my fault.”

“Either way,” Christof turned to Sakhr. “I’m keeping Helena.”

Alex turned to Sakhr too. “I’m not done. Give me the princess, and I can get the other one back.”

Sakhr could no longer pretend they weren’t there. Sibyl sat to his left, quiet, obedient. Why couldn’t the rest be like her? He reached his hand out, and she responded by offering her plaque.

Hundreds of auras bloomed to life. Officers in nearby spires focused on their duties. Faux exemplars in Sakhr’s own spire procrastinated—all of them handpicked by Alexander. Sakhr could even sense those damn osprey that no one had yet to remove from the bridge spire. He’d have to remember to talk to the admiral about that. With Victoria alive, Sakhr’s no birds policy was more important than ever.

What mattered right now were the two aura’s before him. Like fingerprints, they were wildly different, though both were housed behind bickering mouths. Also, both were being genuine. No hidden agendas today.

“Alex. Let Christof keep the girl.”

“Wait. How about this?” Alex replied. “I promise I won’t do anything to the girl for twenty-four hours. I’ll just put a sign above her threatening what I’ll do if she doesn’t come back.”

“No, Alex.”

“Forty-eight hours. The far seeing girl will come crawling back.”

“No, she won’t. She’s with Victoria, who won’t allow her. Ergo, there is no point.”

“The girl could escape her.”

“She won’t.”

“It’ll at least make it harder for them. Katherine will have to waste time making sure the girl doesn’t slip away. Come on, Sakhr. Since when do you pass up potential advantages?”

Sakhr’s response was delayed. It was a potential edge.

With his hand on Sibyl’s plaque, he could sense the effect his silence had on the two. Alex’s anticipation grew. The effect on Christof was more a pronounced dread. This was important to Christof.

“No,” Sakhr said finally. “Christof keeps the girl. We’re not subjecting a girl to mindless misery for minor gains. And she may come in useful later.”

“Thank you,” said Christof.

“You’re making a mistake,” said Alex. “You’re being weak.”

Enough, Alex.” He turned to Christof. “Do not lose that girl. Keep her alive. Keep her secure.”

“Yes.”

“If there’s nothing else, you can go.”

Christof and Alex rose. Sakhr motioned to Alex. “You stay.”

Alex sat back down. Christof glanced at both of them while leaving. His face was neutral, but Sakhr sensed the suspicious shift in his aura. Nothing could be done about that. Alex had been right when he said Christof got caught up in sentimentalism. Sometimes sordid affairs were necessary. And Christof didn’t have the right mindset.

“So,” Alex said after Christof was gone. “You’re hogtying my work so Christof can sleep better?”

“He’s right. We never used to do these sorts of things.”

“We never had the world thrust on us before. We have enemies now.”

“That may be so,” said Sakhr. “Let Christof have this victory. I want to know where you stand with Paul.”

“Peachy.”

“Are you making progress?”

“Yes.”

“Because from where I stand, it looks as though you’re just having your own fun. I gave him to you because I—”

“I know what you want, and I will get it.”

“I see. And once you have gotten this glyph, you plan to bring it straight to me?”

 Sakhr’s hand still rested on Sibyl’s plaque. His gaze was direct at Alex.

This wasn’t lost on Alexander. “Is someone having a case of the paranoids?”

“Do you?”

If not for the plaque, the delay in Alex’s response would have raised Sakhr’s suspicions, but his aura was much too playful, and when he spoke, he returned Sakhr’s burning gaze.

“Yes,” he said. “Once I have the glyph from Paul, I will bring it to you. Do you feel better now?”

“How much longer do you think it will take?”

“He’s on the brink. Twice he’s almost written it while in a daze. Give me another day or two. Is that good enough for you?”

“It will have to do.”

“Anything else?”

“No. No more.”

Alex rose and headed toward the door.

“Oh one last thing,” said Sakhr.

Alex looked back. “Yes?”

“Doesn’t the far seeing girl have a family?”

A smile crept onto Alex’s face. “Yes, she does.”