The 6th of Six (The Legend of Kimraig Llu) (26 page)

“There are Outsiders with the bubbles, inside the building, and I have no idea where.” He did not speak as he worked out a new plan.

“That said, we cannot stay in this building,”

“This is my building. I will not leave.” Breen was back to Mistress again.

“We will not leave for good; merely fall back to the Annex. From there, we will use the bridge to occupy the top stories.”

“We are wasting time. We will go back up the stairs.”

“Please feel free to do that. Let me remind you those bubbles wanted to get to the basement. Down there they have free use of the elevator shafts. With the shafts, they gain unlimited access to this building.” He waited for this to sink in. When she did not answer, he finished his thought. “I am taking my troops
across the street
to use the bridge.”

As soon as Kimraig gave his first order, Breen knew she could not take back control. She had ceded the battle to him and she was not about to create an ugly scene. Seething, she made the right noises as if this whole thing was her decision.

Vehicle damage was the first item on the agenda. That and lookouts posted all around to make sure bubbles, or Outsiders, did not boil out of the basement or any other opening. They were lucky; the damage appeared minimal, so it was time to move.

In less than an hour, their meager supplies had been loaded and they were on the way. One badly damaged SHORT trailed behind on a steel towline. They were simple machines not an armored vehicle intended to support an army. Their nose had only thin plating salvaged from air condition units—anything to give it partial protection from a spill of liquid Choker weed.

Breen had not wanted to take the time to secure the basement of the Annex before they had returned for trial, yet he had. Now she was glad he ignored her order to stay in One Nine. She would also be glad to return to the Annex, where at least she knew her way around.

Now she ignored an order he had given her. With her temporary escort of Queens, she walked, rather than rode, the short distance as he requested. After all, these were her buildings.

The force Kimraig sent ahead was all Builder troops. Their heavy armor gave them the edge in the few seconds of exposure needed to raise the steel doors so all could drive down into the basement. Two vehicles swept the inside of the carnivorous parking area with their single headlights. No one home in the basement.

Once all equipment was inside, the work began. They checked and secured the stairwells they had cleared earlier. Hallways or stairs held no evidence of the faint salty brine left by passing bubbles. Not the time to relax, vigilance remained steady.

They emptied the temporary water bladders stored inside the SHORTS, into portable containers that all would carry. If they had to withdraw in a hurry, the trip back would be dry.

One piece of good news—LaJay and her small group had made temporary repairs to the solar panels on the roof. The two elevators would have enough power to carry all the weapons and water. With orders from Kimraig, trips to the bridge deck began; express only, no stops at each floor.

Kimraig separated the water containers, sending only a few with the troops in each load. By spreading their supply this way, only a small amount of water would be in jeopardy during any single trip.

No one would hold the Annex building once they all made their way across the bridge. They were committed. There was no place else for them to go.

In single file, they crossed the newly completed bridge. There was no attack. He had not expected one. There was too much light streaming into the half-finished bridge sides. Once his small force was across, he instructed the building crew to remove twenty feet of newly completed footing and stack the doors inside. No one or nothing would sneak in behind them.

Now, solve the final problem. He called all the leaders together: Crossers, Builders and his people with their second in command.

He knew first hand that leaders who let in-fighting creep into their ranks were the first to die. This strategy session’s main purpose would make sure personal grievances remained stuffed in get-even bags.

Breen was the kicker here. Instead of a diplomat charged with forging a new combined government, she had the tendency to chip at everyone. Either she would play nice or he would restrain her and place her under guard.

They gathered in his prearranged spot at the double elevators. Here they could discuss working together as a team, at least come to some understanding so they would all survive.

Kimraig sat alone, on the hard tiles, with his knees crossed and his back supported on the cold marble wall. He watched as each individual arrived, one or two with their responsibility riding heavy. Breen came first, much to his surprise. He had figured her for a late, grand entrance. She sat directly across from him.

LaJay glided silently in and sat on her haunches between him and Breen. She reached out with one long arm and intimately squeezed his shoulder in greeting. She let her fingers trail slowly down his bicep and then nodded to Breen. To her credit, Breen did not as much as grace her with a glance.

Kimraig enjoyed watching experts play the game of “he is mine, not yours.”

Rat, Brody-1 and Luna crouched around. Without waiting, Kimraig started explaining his plan; they would keep up or—there were replacements.

“I will break this down in no particular order of importance. First the Ergots, which is the only thing those bubbles can be. They prefer the dark. Light of any kind is their weak spot. They lost a whole lot of themselves getting back into that building before the sun came up. Even more getting to the basement where there is more dark than I like to think about.”

LaJay spoke first. “Ergots been seen around our buildings, but they are a lot bigger. What we saw out there were just little bubbles.”

Rat shook her head in agreement.

“Babies maybe,” Brody-1 said, and no one disagreed.

Breen had jumped in. “Any guess on how we can put that information to use?”

Kimraig waited briefly for more comments, smiling to himself when he checked both ends of the hallway. Groups of guards gathered at the ends, squaring off. A representative from each side of the warring factions made their presence known among each group. Someone was way ahead of him. LaJay winked and smiled at him as he finished that thought. There would be no ears getting close—leave it to this youngster to come up with that one.

“No way to know what kills them, so we cannot spike our dead with poison or spear them individually,” he continued. “Leaving our dead behind will bring the same reaction from all the Troopers as it did from Hunter Curtis.”

Kimraig sat for a moment, deep in thought; then continued. “A quote from an ancient training instructor in my youth: ‘I got no frigging clue’ how we can put that information to work.”

“Scavengers cleaning up gotta’ have ‘em. Better than rats,” Rat finished with her classic smirk.

There were smiles almost all around at her reference to her namesakes. Breen obviously did not see the relation.

“Next item is our missing contingent. No one can kill that many troops without leaving something behind. They could be in another part of this building, or even in another building, to get away from the Ergots.”

“That does not work for me,” Breen said. “We were gone less than four days. That would have taken a hell of a lot of lugging for the small force we left to move all our supplies along with them.”

“They have probably gone the same place as Chief Loyal Roberts.” It was an emotional statement for LaJay. She dropped her moist eyes to check the tiles on the floor.

“That is where we stand. Does anyone have an idea they care to share?”

Yeah, quit wasting time Kimraig; get on with it,
Breen thought.

Get a grip, Breen. Put your block in place so no one but us will know our plans,
Kimraig shot back, almost forgetting to dampen the force of his Telepathy.

“Okay, so here is what I propose.”

The crude map unfolded easily for him. With a finger to his lips, he motioned for all to speak softly; loud voices echoed in these high marble hallways. Quick gestures to each person, and low volume instruction illustrated with walking fingers, helped him convey to each which task would be their responsibility.

He could not know if his caution would help.

The plan of attack up the stairs to floor number six would use only two of the four stairwells. The two he selected emptied into their target floor within sight of each other. The other two were at the opposite end of the building. He traced different areas of the map, using his fingers to indicate who would take point and that Brodie-1, with Leader Breen, would lead her assault. He would follow Hunter Curtis, who would lead them. Intersecting doors at each floor would be welded shut with patches.

There would be no escape from floor number six. Building One Nine belonged to them.

Chapter 11. Tall Tales

Builders Number 1 Building

Mistress Ann’s chambers

“Now is not the time,” Mistress Ann fumed at her dead C-link. “I must have an update from Breen’s new Building.”

Instead of throwing it against the wall as she had done with so many others, she hobbled to her entrance door and threw it back. Her normal two guards jumped at the sudden movement. She hated guards, but with the unrest of last few days, she refused to take chances this close to her goals.

“You,” she pointed her dead C-link at the closest guard. “Get me a doctor. And you,” she grabbed the other by the arm. “I need a C-link down here now, with a living, talking tech to go with it. Go!”

She stood in the doorway waiting. After no more than one heartbeat, she asked a question, her tone pitched deadly low. “Do you understand the concept of go?”

Mistress Ann paced a set path from one wall, passing in front of her couch to the opposite wall—fifteen, twenty, thirty steps one-way. Then back to the other wall, never losing count of these one-way steps. A concentration ritual she had developed in college before this life.

Haggard, old, and bedraggled, she did not care. Her bath and clean robes had not helped. Damaged knees and ankles shot endless agony from toenails to split ends. If she could chain that Bradley to her floor, she would exact her revenge. Total control had been at her fingertips and he had betrayed the pact they had made. His whole plan had been to trap her and gain control of all her five buildings. That he had sucked her in, rankled deep.

The requested tech arrived first, not running, walking rapidly with her heavy bag swinging freely at her side. She did not bother to stop in the doorway to ask permission, she entered the private chambers as if it were an everyday occurrence.

“Your C-link please, Mistress,” she said, holding out her hand for the offending module.

Mistress Ann passed it on to the young woman, impatience beginning to simmer.

The tech started to put it in her bag, thought better and pulled the back off to remove a small card, which she handed to her Mistress to hold. Best to let her hold her own records on that sim-card rather than risk her infamous anger.

The dead C-link disappeared into her bag. From her jacket pocket, she retrieved a slightly larger unit and removed its back as well. The new card followed the C-link into her bag. With deft fingers, she inserted and secured the original card from Mistress Ann’s hand. Stabbing an oversized button, she listened, and then made precise moves on the display. “My new design Mistress. More power, more range,” she reported, offering the unit.

“Will I have trouble with this one?”

“No, but the batteries are refurbished. They must be recharged on a regular schedule.”

“Go. Go! Out! Out!”

Not so confident now is she,
Mistress Ann raged as she watched the young woman scurry away. She had stood right in front of her Mistress and scolded her for not charging the batteries. Why be without a unit while it is on the charger, when there were other units available within shouting distance. She would remember this tech. She finally placed her call.

“Get me Midge,” she yelled at Mistress Alex, the 4th of Four.

“I am sorry Mistress Ann; she was thrown off the roof an hour ago.”

“How do you know she was thrown?”

“Hands and ankles tied, Mistress. Top clothing removed and the letter “V” cut into the flesh between her breasts.”

She set the C-link down and paced so she could think

Hmmm, Kimraig had issued instructions for Midge before he left with Breen.
Mistress Ann always marveled at the way he could best her every plan.

I should have killed that boy on the way to One Nine, never too late.

“Alright, lock down Middle and Lower Levels until you hear from me.”

“The Others have locked all but the express elevator at those levels. They also hold the stairwells. We are able to move from Top Side to the street but nothing else.”

The voice stopped as if afraid to continue.

“Get on with it.”

“I have ordered evacuation of everyone loyal to the Wicca. We will crowd into Number 5 Building.”