Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) (21 page)

Layla dropped the shroud of invisibility she was projecting. “Do you always take so little notice of your surroundings?”

Antonio sighed at her challenging tone.
Looks like it’s going to be one of those conversations.
“I’m tired, and this is your headquarters. No one would dare strike at me here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been working all night?”

Antonio glanced at the AI schematic and winced. He switched it off. “Maybe it’s time for a break.”

She frowned. “I’m having breakfast in the Sanctum in twenty minutes. Join me.”

Antonio swallowed.
Not a question, but an order
. “I’ll be there.”

“See that you are.” Then she turned and walked away.

Damn,
thought Antonio.
How did I screw up now?

* * *

Antonio entered the Sanctum without knocking, noting that she’d redecorated, with virtual screens around the walls projecting the moonlit view of the city of Cahokia at its peak, as seen from her temple atop the highest mound. He studied the images as he made his way to the table set in the center of the room. “Reminiscing?”

“Nothing so sentimental.” She indicated the chair opposite her, and he took his seat. “We must remember who we’ve been to know who we are now, and who we will become.”

He poured himself a glass of orange juice from the cut crystal decanter on the table. “Looking backward to look forward? That has a certain logic to it.”
You’re stalling. Just ask her what she’s after and spare yourself the dance.
“What’s this about, Mother?”

“I had a question about your encounter with the Grace.”

Antonio groaned inwardly.
Not this again.
“I already went over it with you and the rest of the High Council a hundred times. What do you want to know now?” Despite himself, he couldn’t help his resentment from being obvious.

She laced her fingers together in front of her, and stared at him impassively. “What did you say to the Grace when it asked you why you wanted to spare Rafael?”

“That he was my friend,” said Antonio, the lie coming easily to his lips.

“Not that you loved him?”

Antonio’s jaw dropped as his train of thought derailed. Then he pulled himself together before his shields could slip. “No, of course not!”

“Are you sure? Because I can’t imagine you would enter into a double bridge with him if you intended to keep your feelings a secret.”

Antonio stared at her, completely at a loss. “How did you know?”

“You told me, just now.” She sighed. “Antonio. Son. Are you sure he’s the one you want?”

He scowled. “Yes. He’s the one I want.”

Layla took a deep breath. “How can I help?”

Antonio blinked, his anger drained away in an instant. “Help?”

“He’s used to thinking of you in a certain way. You have to convince him otherwise.”

Antonio continued to stare at her. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because the last time you followed your heart, I did not support you, and it cost me eleven years of your life. I will not repeat my mistakes. And because you have your work cut out for you. What did he say when you first told him?”

Antonio’s gaze dropped in chagrin. “He said it was a crush, that I was being immature.”

“And why are you hiding here, underground, instead of going to Sanctuary to be with him?”

“I…Because he doesn’t want me there.”

She nodded in approval. “Very good. You’re thinking of his needs over your own. That’s a mature attitude to take, and will serve you well, but you have to be judicious about it or he’ll walk all over you.”

“Mother, I’m a hundred years old. I know all this.”

“But that’s not how you act with him. You look at him with a child’s eyes, and you need to grow up if you want him to see you as anything other than that.”

Antonio sat back in his chair and thought.
Maybe she has a point.
He looked up and met her gaze. “Where should I start?”

C
HAPTER 32

October 2142; Armistice Security Garrison, the Citadel, Lunar Farside

The High Council gathered at Rory’s laboratory to hear what he had to say, joined by Antonio at Rory’s insistence.

“It’s more than a poison,” said Rory without preamble. “Its magic is contagious.”

Layla frowned. “Like a disease?”

“More like a computer virus.” Rory pointed at two test tubes in a rack on the table in the center of the lab. “The one on the left is Nightwalker blood, and the other is Antonio’s blood.”

He transferred a small amount of blood from one tube to the other with a medicine dropper. Immediately, the second tube seethed with a bright, white light. After a moment, the liquid contents boiled away, leaving only a black powder.

Rory pointed to another rack of test tubes. “I diluted his blood in water a thousand times, and it has the same effect. Then I had a Sentinel volunteer drink it. He suffered no ill effects, but watch what happens when I mix his blood with Nightwalker blood.”

He transferred a drop of blood from the Sentinel volunteer’s sample to the Nightwalker blood. The second sample instantly flared and was reduced to powder.

“No matter how diluted, a drop of Antonio’s blood will kill,” said Rory. “That attribute is also transferred to anyone who ingests the blood or a derivative of it.”

“Damn. It would spread like wildfire,” said Ghian. “No wonder the White Wind thought it would cleanse the world of Nightwalkers.”

“So if I poured my blood into a river, what would happen?” asked Antonio quietly.

Rory took a deep breath. “It would spread downstream and eventually to the ocean, and from there across the world. The entire biosphere would eventually become infected.”

“How long would we have once the poison was released?” Marcus’ voice was cold and emotionless.

“A few months, maybe even a year, before the environment would become totally contaminated. Less than that if the blood were spilled at multiple sites. Once the process begins, its progression is irreversible.”

Amaterasu turned her attention to Antonio. “How many of the Children of Starlight are currently on Earth?”

Antonio frowned. “About thirty, I think. Why?”

“You need to get them off-world immediately, before one of them accidently triggers a global pandemic.”

“We’ll need to start moving our own Nightwalker population off-world as well,” said Marcus. “If we can’t keep this contained, then we have to make sure they aren’t destroyed along with the rest.”

“I think we should make off-world travel contingent on accepting the Grace,” said Rory. “If the Great Work is to succeed, then none of them can be allowed to escape, one way or another.”

“Jesus!” yelled Antonio. He got to his feet and glared at the others. “Will you listen to yourselves? You’re discussing genocide like just another strategic option.”

“The option exists,” said Layla. “Weapons this powerful don’t just sit around unused. Sooner or later, it will be exercised. The only thing we can do now is try to minimize the carnage.” She faced Ghian. “Strategically, how do you think the Court will respond when this becomes known?”

“They will go to war to kill the Harbingers, for their own survival,” answered Ghian. “That’s another reason to move them off-world and quarantine them. Just transferring them to the Citadel or one of the orbital stations isn’t enough. The Court will try to find a way to get to them through the gateways. We need to put them where they can’t be reached.”

“The
Singularity
,” said Marcus.

“I beg your pardon?” said Antonio.

“It’s the only starship in port right now, and is designed to carry tens of thousands of travelers. That’s more than enough room to house both the Children of Starlight and a protective military force, as well as to provide a self-contained environment to sustain them indefinitely. Move the ship away from Hephaestus Station and they will only be accessible by jumpship.”

“You want me to volunteer my ship so you can put my entire race under arrest?” asked Antonio, his face flushed.

“We have to take action,” said Layla. “There’s too much risk otherwise that something might happen accidentally. We have to isolate them, unless you want to touch off Armageddon.”

Antonio scowled but backed down. “All right. I’ll get them to come to the Citadel, and you can shuttle them to the
Singularity
. I’ll have the engines powered up, so that it can sustain environment independently and cast off from the station.”

“There’s another problem,” said Ghian. “If the weapon is used, there will be survivors, at least for a time. Each Nightwalker stronghold contains a siege supply of bloodwine for emergencies. The Council Chamber Complex maintains a strategic stockpile large enough to sustain the entire population of the Court for at least a year behind the defenses.”

“Then we’ll have to find a way to neutralize it,” said Layla.

Rory frowned. There was something about that idea that touched his memory.

THEN: April 2055; Anchorpoint City, Colorado; 87 years earlier

“A spell to destroy bloodwine?” asked Takeshi, dealing the cards for their weekly poker game. “What good would it do?”

“It eliminates a potential food supply they can rely on.” Scott was practically bouncing in his chair from excitement.

Rory shook his head as he checked his cards and anted up. “Bloodwine isn’t used as widely in Court circles as Armistice. It’s considered something of a delicacy among them. Only the upper echelons have access to it, and the rest of them hunt for their nightly meals. Your idea wouldn’t cause any significant disruption to their infrastructure.”

“Not during peacetime,” said Anaba. “But in war, it would definitely give us an edge. We think we can blast this spell out over a large enough area to knock out the stockpiles in any given base. Then, when we attack, they wouldn’t be able to get out and hunt. They’d weaken, and we would be that much closer to victory.”

“A siege-breaker,” said Takeshi thoughtfully. “That might have possibilities.”

“Can the spell be blocked?” asked Rory.

Scott’s enthusiasm deflated. “Yes. That’s the drawback. As the spell stands now, the standard defense shields on one of their strongholds would be enough to deflect it.”

“The theory is sound,” said Anaba. “It just needs more research before we can get it powered up high enough to penetrate their defenses.”

“You could always talk to Nick,” said Rory. “Maybe Luscian’s memories have something to give you that last bit of power you need.”

Scott looked at his cards and counted his chips. “Maybe so. I’ll see what he thinks.”

NOW: October 2142; Armistice Security Garrison, the Citadel, Lunar Farside

Rory looked at Layla. “I think I might know someone who could help us with that.”

C
HAPTER 33

October 2142; Armistice Security European Headquarters, Sanctuary, French Alps

“Sure, I remember the spell,” said Nick. “It was something of a hobby of ours. We almost got it to work before Scott died. After that, I set it aside. I had other things to work on, and it brought back too many memories.”

“I’ll need the spellforms—as well as all developmental work associated with them,” said Ghian.

Nick bristled at his arrogance. “Why?”

“You don’t need to know.”

Nick stared at him. “It’s my personal research you’re asking for. I have a right to know why you want it.”

Ghian frowned. “Not if I say you don’t. Now follow your orders or you’ll find yourself out of a job.”

“Are you serious? You’d try and take Sanctuary from me?” Nick laughed.

Ghian shrugged. “If necessary.”

Nick stood from his chair and glared down at Ghian. “Speaker Ghian, Sanctuary is House Luscian territory. It remains part of the Armistice by treaty, not by right. If you continue to piss me off, then you are the one who’ll be finding your garrison a new place to live.”

Ghian visibly seethed with anger, but he kept his temper in check. “I don’t trust you, Nicholas. You’re literally in bed with the enemy. How do I know you won’t pass this information on to the Court as soon as my back is turned?”

“This is about Antonio, isn’t it?” said Nick softly. “Why the cloak and dagger? Lorcan already knows about the curse.”

Ghian raised his eyebrows in genuine disbelief. “Damn. I’m surprised Brennigan kept his mouth shut.”

Nick growled in a deep rumble. “The three of us don’t talk about work if it involves security issues. That’s rule number one. Now answer the question, or you can tell Armistice Security to start packing.”

Ghian considered the request for longer than was polite. “Fine. Harbinger blood is not just a curse, it’s a plague. Any liquid becomes a carrier, and anyone who ingests it becomes infected. It apparently doesn’t affect mortals or Daywalkers, but Nightwalker tissue is immediately destroyed by contact with an infected host.”

“And you mean to use it, don’t you?” asked Nick. “You need the spell to destroy the bloodwine supply and force the Nightwalkers to feed on humans, whom you plan to infect.”

“An elegant solution, don’t you think? I estimate that the war would be over in less than a year.”

“You’re talking about genocide, Ghian. Do you have any idea how many people will die because of what you’re planning?”

Ghian stood and met Nick’s gaze, eye to eye. “They’re not
my
people.”

“And what about those who are? There are millions of Nightwalkers living in the Armistice Zone. You swore to uphold their rights as long as they maintained the treaty.”

Ghian’s expression remained unconcerned, as if they were discussing a parking ticket. “The tame ones can take the Grace and survive. The rest of them can die.”

Nick’s eyes shaded toward red. “And you want me to be a party to it.”

Ghian drew himself up to his full height. “I am the Wind of Earth, Daywalker. My duty is to the Children of Twilight. I have the chance to give them victory and free them from the Gift. Now you’ll either help me, or I’ll find someone who will. Either way, the war will end.”