The Silent Army (24 page)

She zoomed out again then panned over to a spot where the lines were so dense they formed a white star around a little diamond shape.

“The diamond means an event is almost certain, and that the event will have a serious impact.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“That’s the wasteland,” she said.

I stared at the diamond shape. It looked like thousands of lines were connected to it.

“That many people have seen it?” I whispered. Penny nodded.

“Now watch.” She tapped the screen again and the whole thing zoomed out until the lines blurred together and became the nebula shape again. The diamond and all the connecting lines became that bright star that sat on the edge of the dark hole in the middle.

“What’s in the middle?” I asked. “In the dark part?”

“We don’t know,” she said. “Ai’s trying to close that gap, to find out.You can see that all around the rim there’s nothing much, nothing conclusive, except right there. That one big event happens right on the edge there.”

“Then what?”

“No verifiable entries. The model falls apart.”

“But why no entries?”

“Maybe there’s nothing left to see.”

Nothing left. I remembered the wasteland and how everything was gone.

“But even in my dream, it’s just the city,” I said weakly.

Penny shrugged. “Ai calls it the void. It doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t anything after the event, just that no one has seen anything after it.”

“Why not?”

“No one knows for sure. Maybe it means no one will be left.”

I stared at the image on the screen. The star sat on the edge of the dark like it was being sucked into a black hole.

“You get it now?” she asked.

“But what are the visions?” I asked. “How do they work?”

“We’re not completely sure yet, but there are some things we know, some rules they all stick by.”

She held up a finger.

“One: the people and places seen in the visions are real. If you see a person in a vision, they exist in the real world, somewhere. Same for places.”

She held up a second finger to form a V shape.

“Two: visions modeled here have probabilities that can change, but once an event hits one hundred percent probability, it always occurs, with no exceptions. A vision modeled at one hundred percent can’t be changed, as far as we know.”

She held up a third finger, forming a W.

“Three: no one has ever seen something in a vision that couldn’t feasibly happen in their lifetime. So no one has ever seen anything hundreds of years down the line or anything like that. We think that no one can see past their own death.”

She tapped the dark center of the ring.

“We expect to see some emptiness then, here,” she said. “No one lives forever, but the problem is that this bright star, this ‘event,’ is less than five years away. It could happen tomorrow. So this void is troubling. You follow?”

I nodded weakly.

“But what does it have to do with me?”

She tapped the screen and a tree of icons appeared. She tapped on, and it zoomed in to show my face.

OTT, ZOE. POTENTIAL E1.

“Potential what?” I asked, still staring at my name on the screen. Penny panned back, showing other faces in the tree. I saw Nico’s go by, and some others I didn’t recognize. It landed on an image of Penny.

BLOUNT, PENNY. POTENTIAL E1 (DISPROVEN). E10.

“Significant people are termed ‘elements’ and assigned numbers,” she said. “Just like there are significant events that people report seeing, there are significant people. Based on the events people see and their probabilities, we can get a sense of who will be significant . . . who will be directly involved in what’s to come.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

She pulled up one of her sleeves and held out the arm so I could see. There were pocked scars all down it from her wrist to her elbow, following the veins there. They were needle tracks.

“Ai pulled me out of the gutter,” she said. “She saved my life. For me, though, when I got clean, I lost my pre-cog ability. I can still do everything else, better than most, but I stopped having the visions.”

“You don’t see them anymore?” To me, that sounded great.

“I get the odd sighting, but not like I used to. Not like Ai. Not like you. We’re not all the same. All of us can influence others, but not everyone can see. Even those that can, not everyone can see as well as Ai. It’s what makes her special. You see that out there?”

She pointed out a window across the room. Through it I could see the lights of the city as it sprawled off into the distance. From that height I could see the two other major, huge towers, lit up like colored spikes.

“Ai doesn’t run the show alone,” Penny said. “She’s got powerful friends. You’ll meet them someday, for now just know we run everything. We’ve got our own organization, but it all comes back to Ai. She’s the one with the vision. She’s the one that sees and knows everything. It’s all for nothing without her.”

She pointed to the big star shape again.

“She’s looking for someone, someone related to that event. Element zero begins it, but element one ends it. Ai’s been looking for this missing element. She was wrong about me, and she’s been wrong before, but she’s been looking. She’s been looking for you.”

I looked at the star on the screen.

“Is everything really going to be destroyed?” I asked.

“Not if we can help it.”

She put one hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Gently, not like she had before.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “In some ways, I don’t envy you. I know it’s hard. I was in your shoes once, but it is what it is. You might need to step up, and soon.”

She stood up and walked to the doorway, turning back before she left.

“Enjoy your new digs,” she said. “You’re totally free to do whatever you want at any time, but don’t cross Ai. Understand?”

“Yes.” That part I got.

“Sorry about your friend,” she said, and left. I heard her walk back out to the front door and close it behind her. I barely heard her, though, because I was still looking at the screen and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Yeah, me too,” I said, but she was gone. I was alone.

It was too surreal. The night before, I was sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant with a bunch of people I didn’t know, practically dying of embarrassment. Someone shot at us and all hell broke loose, and then my best friend died right in front of me. I fell off the wagon, and Nico hit me in the face. Just when I thought I was at rock bottom, I end up in a palace. I’m told I’m important, and that my dreams and crazy visions are not only not insane, but also that they could help stop a disaster.

“How much of this is real?”

Any minute now I’m going to wake up. I’ll wake up on my couch in my apartment, and Karen will be alive.

I got up and walked around the apartment, trying to shake the feeling that I was trespassing. It didn’t feel like home. It was too much. It was too nice. The bed in the bedroom looked really comfortable, though. The inside of the bathroom was all tiled, and along with the giant hot tub was a cascade shower the size of my old bathroom.

In the bedroom I opened a huge walk-in closet and saw what Penny meant when she said that Ai got me some stuff to wear; it was filled with expensive clothes for pretty much every occasion. There were more shoes in there than I had ever owned in my life. Hanging from the door on the inside was what at first looked like a bra, but turned out to be a shoulder holster, like the kind I’d seen Nico wear, but smaller. It had a gun in it too, a little silver one with a pearl handle. There was a note pinned to the holster: FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY. I closed the door.

Shrugging out of my wet coat, I let it fall on the carpet and walked back out to the living room with the big TV. There was a big wood cabinet there with a bunch of glasses arranged on top. I opened the doors and saw it was a liquor cabinet, stocked to the hilt. Right up front were four big bottles of ouzo. I grabbed one off the shelf and shut the door, walking with it across the room, toward the couch.

I was going to flop down on the couch and maybe try to figure out how to work the TV when I saw a set of doors on the far wall and I wondered what they went to. I walked past the couch and pulled them open. When I did, cold, damp air blew over me.

“Wow.”

It was a balcony. I was looking out over the city. Still holding the bottle, I walked outside and up to the rail.

“Wow.”

I’d never had a view like that from so high before. It was amazing. The city was all lit up like some giant machine with a billion flashing lights. Down below, traffic flowed like glowing veins. I was in one of the biggest towers in the city. To the left and right the city went off as far as I could see, and in front, a little ways in the distance, some even bigger buildings loomed. Way off in the distance, two of the largest towers in the world sat on the skyline. The wind blew through my hair and mist sprayed my face, but I didn’t care. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Without even thinking, I cracked the bottle. When you do anything a lot, you get a comfortable sense of where you stand in that situation, and I’d been drinking my whole life. The year or so when I stopped was a footnote. It was an experiment, a mistake. I knew how drinking affected me at every stage, from the first shot to the inevitable blackout. The ouzo was warm going down, trickling down into my belly while I stood out there in the cold. It started to mellow me out, make me feel more comfortable. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I started feeling more at home in my new place. Once I’d had enough to drink, I would begin to accept that what Penny said might be true.

“She’s been searching for that missing element. She’s been searching for you.”

Before it was over, all of my nagging doubts would be erased. That included the offhand warning about not crossing Ai. It also included the fact that if these people were laying any kind of hope, any kind at all, on me, then we were all going to be in for a world of hurt.

Calliope Flax—Archstone Plaza, Room #103

I tromped down the hall and banged on Buckster’s door. No one answered, but I heard a guy’s voice.

The JZI picked him up. He was in there. I looked through the front door with the backscatter and saw a shape move past it. I banged on the door again.

“Open up, Chief. It’s me,” I called.

I heard the voice again. He was talking to someone. Either he wasn’t alone or he was on the phone. A fan or something started blowing inside, and I went to bang again when I heard him coming. He opened the door, but not much. He looked out at me, then back over his shoulder.

“What’s your fucking problem?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Nice.”

“Sorry. It’s not a good time.”

“I came to give you a heads-up,” I said. “I heard through my Fed friend, they’re looking to pick you up.”

“They already did,” he said.

“You got their dicks in a twist, from the sound of it. What the hell did you do?”

He looked up and down the hall, then moved like he meant to grab my arm, but he stopped. He was freaked out.

“What did you hear?” he asked.

“Not out here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Come on in.”

He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped back. I took the opening and went in. The place was messed up a little. A desk drawer was still out. The old guy looked rattled.

“What did he tell you?” he asked.

“He didn’t tell me anything; I heard your name and tapped his JZI communication.”

“That’s a federal off—”

“Hey, I was watching your back.”

“Why?”

“Because you helped me out. Because you’re a slummer from Bullrich, like me.”

He thought about it, and it looked like he bought it.

“What did you hear?” he asked.

“Not much, sorry. Just that you stirred up a hornets’ nest and they were looking to pick you up. They’re still watching you, you know.”

He nodded. His eyes darted around like he wasn’t sure what to do. That’s when I picked up the jack.

My JZI picked up the signal, and when I locked on, a revivor signature snapped on the scanner. It was somewhere close. Inside the apartment.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No.” I scanned around. There was a closed door down the hall. It was where the fan noise was coming from. The signal was in there. I caught a whiff of something, a chemical smell that I knew from the grind.

That’s Leichenesser.

“You sure you’re okay, Chief?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like you saw a damn ghost.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and shook his head. “Maybe I did. The truth is, I’ve got to take off for a while.”

“A while?”

“I might not be back.”

I looked around, but I didn’t see any bags or anything.

“Where you going?”

“It’s not important. Just do me a favor.”

“Shoot.”

“If your friend asks, you never saw me today.”

“They sicced that red-haired bitch on you, didn’t they?”

That stopped him. I could see it was true. The look, like he saw a ghost, came back.

“What do you know about that?”

“I know her name. It’s Zoe Ott.”

“How do you know her?”

“I saw her when I went to look up Wachalowski at the FBI. Did she get in your head?”

The look on his face said yes. I chanced a look at the closed door and scanned through. The revivor was in there; I could just make it out. That’s where the smell came from. A body had been cleaned up in there.

“You knew?” he asked. I turned the scan on him and saw the gun tucked under his shirt. “How much do you know?”

“I know what she does.”

He nodded. I saw the JZI flicker behind his eyes, and he got quiet for a second.

“The Fed, he’s an old soldier, like you,” I told him. “He got me out of a bind. Whatever his beef with you is, it’s got nothing to do with me. I just want some answers.”

The orange light went out. He sighed.

“Cal, look. You need to get out of here, okay? I’m telling you this for your own good. You need to leave, and so do I. Just . . . you didn’t see me.”