Shadow Over Avalon (35 page)

“We need an isolated fort, one they wouldn’t regard as vulnerable to Submariner attack.” Copper wriggled his shoulders, settling his hands under his head. “There’s one south of Haven fitting requirements. It’s inland with no big rivers nearby to create suspicion. Plenty of ground-cover, but they’re hostile to our kind.”

“What’s the catch to sour the sauce?” Ector guessed there was another big one.

“Predators. The whole area is so riddled by tunnels that if you struck it there would be a boom. Some of those tunnels are the home of vortai, blind, snakelike things of a size to swallow a man whole. Since we can’t fight them, we avoid them.” Copper raised one eyebrow at Ector.

“You’ve spotted our weapons in use,” Ector surmised. “Firing power guns always brings the Nestines, the ones you call Harvesters.”

“They’d already be alerted by our attack.” Copper shut his eyes, seeming to trust enough to risk going off-guard. “If vortai can be contained, it would give us a safe, defensive position to repel a counterattack. Taking the fort is Brethren province, keeping it depends on Submariner devices.”

“Why am I thinking you have re-evaluated your personal fighting skills?” Ector fired this question out of place to catch a truthful answer.

“Fair point. Shadow increased my ability to ensure my leadership over Brethren continued.”

“She did? How?”

“Something with my mind.” Copper opened his eyes. “The others also had weapons practice with her. I needed an edge.”

“Then she thinks we need you. That precludes any others being augmented. I’ll make that an order for any liaison personnel. How many extra men can Haven handle?”

“About sixty, without draining our resources,” Copper supplied, looking interested.

“Eighty to one hundred, should we bring extra supplies.” Ector watched the Outcast for body language as a key to his reaction. He didn’t dare risk mind raid. “Give me your thoughts on any childbearing sisters, assuming we can cure them, being removed to Avalon.”

“This isn’t going to be a short campaign, is it?” Copper flowed to his feet in the fluid way of Brethren. He began pacing. “When we breed, if we breed, our offspring will warrant both Harvester and seer attention. How safe will they be here?”

“Good point.” Ector also stood up, following the Outcast with his eyes. “The susceptible will need to be retained at Haven. Seers have enough power without adding foresight to their armory. This can be done.”

“We have an agreement in principle?” Copper said.

“In fact. Ambrose will agree to all points. I have one more I’ll add: Shadow must return to Avalon each year. She can’t function without a replacement power pack. Is this acceptable?”

“Agreed.” The Outcast’s eyes narrowed. “I’d not risk her life.”

“Then we have a trade. Picture in your mind the exact location of our new target.”

Copper started to remove his earring, only to stiffen with shock when Ector waved to decline the offer.

“No secrets between allies,” Ector said. “A cyborg with an altered interface implant has no restrictions. I ask your permission for contact. This is a point of courtesy among those who have the ability. I’ll not take what is not freely offered.”

“This whole conversation could have taken place without my knowledge.” Copper’s voice came etched with ice.

“It could, and result in unpleasant consequences. Trust is a place of delicate beginnings. I give you knowledge of what I could do, not what I will, or have done.”

“A calculated risk,” Copper agreed, relaxing and sending Ector a rare smile that reached his eyes.

“Good choice.” Ector reviewed the image formed in Copper’s mind of the fort in question as fast as he could, aware of the privilege granted. “I like it. We’ll move supplies from a nearer point than our first meeting place. There is a river cutting into land from the west. Know it?”

“Very well. It’s tidal with a bore wave. I’ll show you all I recall.”

Ector viewed the memory of the river as Copper saw it when tracking a predator. The Outcast included a trail from where the river went shallow to the highlands leading to Haven.

“Copper . . . can you feel my probe?” Something about the set of the man’s mind disturbed him.

“It’s a different flavor from Shadow’s—darker.”

“How about Harvesters?”

“They leave a foul taste, like fumes from a forge,” Copper said, looking curious at the turn of conversation.

“Are you able to disclose the number of fey Brethren, or is that restricted information?”

“Six currently active members, including myself. We lost two potential acquisitions last Spring, taken right from under our noses, only we couldn’t find the tracks of . . . Harvesters. There should be more fey brothers. That’s what you’re getting at.” Copper slammed his fist into the air duct, making a sizeable dent in the soft metal. “Ten fey brothers lost over the past three years. I should have guessed.”

“Pull the others off duty as soon as you can. Somehow, Harvesters can sense your talent. If it’s agreeable, I’d like those men joined at the hip with a Submariner apiece, preferably the highest psi-ratings I can spare.” A sense of devilment flowed through Ector. “Since we’re stuck with a lure, it seems a terrible waste not to turn it into an advantage. I’ll also want an Elite operative on recovery patrol. Picking up new members is the fey brothers’ primary role, isn’t it? One of my men can serve in that capacity as an extra shield.”

“We’ll lose our cover if we . . .” Copper paused, his expression changing rapidly. “I want a way to make your men blend in with us. Any suggestions?” He stood still as Ector studied him.

Ector viewed the rangy warrior clad in primitive clothing, bristling with weapons, and a solution came to him. “Let’s go check up on Helga. There will be a medi-tech on duty. He’ll provide what I need.”

Shadow had already left when they strolled into the small care unit. Ector gave out a series of crisp commands to the medi-tech on duty, who took skin samples from both men. In a short while he assembled the dyes and brushes Ector wanted.

“We take turns coloring each other’s faces with whatever pattern looks good. I think I have just the right beverage to aid our skill.” The bottle of spirits Ector commandeered to celebrate the alliance made both his and Copper’s artwork erratic.

*

Shadow caught them teaching each other bawdy songs when she finally located the pair with the Archive’s help. The medi-tech looked up from his desk with despair on his face, gave up and left the room. The two guilty parties leered hideously in her direction. Each had a bright blue face, neck and hands, decorated with jagged black lines and white circles. They had made themselves over into terrifying images, but the effect was spoiled when Copper hiccupped.

“Need camo . . . flage,” Ector mumbled.

“Will that mess wash off?” Shadow couldn’t believe what they had done to themselves.

“Shouldn’t fink so,” Copper slurred, grinning.

The pair looked at each other, then at her. They pounced, evidently not quite as drunk as they appeared. Copper flattened her, pinning her down with his weight, while Ector got to work with brushes and dye. She yelled for help, struggling against their gleeful endeavor, but was helpless against the pair of them. Ector thoughtfully held up a looking glass, so she could see the results. A horrific visage met her furious gaze. As angry now as when she fought the Vortai, Shadow released her will, letting it seize both of them in an iron grip. The pair soared up to float near the ceiling, both struggling, both looking bewildered.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave you there?” Fury choked her voice to a whisper.

“Get thired,” Ector slurred, wearing a stupid grin on his face.

“Really? Are you quite sure of that?” Shadow gave them a few moments to get worried, and then started to the door.

“Queenie, don’t leave us here,” Copper called. “We were only . . . thrying to look shame.”

Shadow relaxed her will abruptly, letting them take the consequences as they crashed down to the floor.

“Men!” she said, including the absent medi-tech in her vitriolic judgment.

She took her grievance straight to Ambrose. After one startled look at her changed face, he turned his back to her, requesting an account of the circumstances. She couldn’t miss the shaking of her Supreme Commander’s shoulders as she related the incident. He was laughing.

“It’s not funny. I’m stuck like this until I grow new skin.”

“I’m sorry, Shadow . . . it’s just . . .” He dissolved again into chuckles from that brief glance. “Those two have reached some sort of accord, or they wouldn’t be playing the fool. Exactly how good was their effort? Could you tell one from the other as distinct races?”

“They made themselves, and me, too hideous to determine.”

“Then they have found a way for Submariners to infiltrate forts disguised as Brethren. Copper has been a pain in the backside ever since he arrived.” Ambrose turned to face her, keeping his eyes fixed on her right shoulder. “If Ector found a way to break through to him, then I support him absolutely. I’ll wear face dye myself, if it helps to defeat Nestines. Go away and think about the advantages of accessing a fort when not only race is irrelevant, but also gender. You do look quite splendidly revolting, my dear.”

Shadow didn’t like this new accord. She didn’t like those two ganging up on her, and she didn’t like Ambrose siding with them. “Men!” she erupted for the second time that day.

Helga was improving when Shadow checked in with the Archive the following morning. The sentient reported a gradual change to a normal female state, although she would remain unconscious while progress continued. The Archive also reported Copper’s agreement to an implant, and that the necessary procedure was happening at this moment. Shadow hoped his head ached as a consequence of having surgery after drinking.

Ector, she learned, had conducted a strategy meeting in her absence, leaving her without anyone to champion or chide, and no cause to pursue except one: Shadow needed to see Boy. Just one look to make sure he thrived. He must be a year old – enough for his Terran heritage to show clear. Sanctuary, the one place off-limits to Shadow, became her goal in those moments.

She let her rage build, needing it, needing to recreate the feeling of facing a vortai in full-charge that had helped her against the men. Time slowed – a service operative walking toward her along a corridor seemed to be moving through liquid treacle. A good start, if not enough to fool seers. Shadow built a mental image of herself as she marched. Bit by bit, the image began to resemble that queen of vipers, Evegena, the matriarch of seers. Shadow began to walk with the same swaying glide so peculiar to that skeletal hag.

Of the two door-wardens at the main entrance to Sanctuary, only one looked around, curious, as Shadow passed within. Every wall, floor, and ceiling was colored rain gray, so she played back a schematic stolen from the Archive in her mind. Uniformity didn’t present any obstacle for one cursed by total recall. Seers had their crèche on the third level from ground in the western corner. Shadow headed in that direction, twice more disturbing a passing seer – not enough to cause upset, only a familiar presence.

There were fifteen babies and five infants in a dreary, silent room. Four seers patrolled the space between beds as if they guarded criminals, instead of caring for young lives. Shadow’s lack of experience with children led her to check the oldest first, since telepathic scanning would destroy her disguise. Four were female, and not her target. The fifth, a male, had the silver sheen on his skin and the gill flaps common to all Submariners. Shadow began on the babies, yet all lacked any trace of Terran ancestry. So they’d hidden him, had they?

She started a systematic mind search of every area in Sanctuary not designated as personal living quarters. The five levels above ground proved unproductive. Suspecting a blind, Shadow checked off every active unit against a memorized list of living seers, and then accessed all rooms listed as available, a wasted effort. The ground floor, being dedicated to service functions, which she checked anyway, left an underground level. Furnaces, air-conditioning and storage rooms; dusty, gloomy and empty, yet something compelling called to her. Going with the feeling, she quartered the area again. A small, crusted hatch in the floor, near an air changer, caught her attention. She took the time to chip away at a layer of grime welding the aperture shut. That time brought the realization that Boy couldn’t be hidden in that hole. It was too old, yet the urgent feeling of wrongness persisted. Reluctant to give up, convinced something lurked in the depths – a something that might give her the clue she needed – she persisted. Nowhere in records was there a mention of this place.

The lid gave with a final jerk when she forced it up with the tip of her sword. The cave-blackness in that hole called to her. Shadow backtracked to stores for a torch, cursing the oversight. Back at the hole, she found a ladder of sorts; a series of metal struts embedded in a vertical descent into infinity and she counted fifty on the way down. One single passage reached out into the darkness at the bottom. The dust of ages rose in small puffs as her feet violated that ancient way.

A doorway loomed ahead, a dark maw of grim enticement. There was a black rectangle on both sides of the lintel, facing inward at about the height of a man’s chest. Twin laser beams cut the air beneath her chin, missing flesh by a hair’s breadth as she attempted to pass between. Instant reflex to sudden light sent her crashing back to fall in an untidy heap. The beams cut out a second after she landed. Whoever had installed this anti-personnel trap didn’t intend for intruders to survive. One trap sprung to catch the foremost hostile, and how many more beyond? Whatever lurked in those dark realms originated with the ancients, probably the builders of Avalon.