Angel Of Solace (26 page)

“On the contrary, I’m not sure you realize how integral ESI has been to your organization’s survival. You only exist in Solace because we allow it.”

Shyrah let out the derisive snort she had been holding in. “Tough talk coming through a speaker.”

“You were useful to us because we could control you,” he continued, unfettered. “Kronn was our eyes and ears, feeding us all the medical data we could want on Demons like yourself. You also proved an excellent distraction to the Covenant, and an excellent political buffer.”

Shyrah noticed his switch to the past tense and hoped it was unintentional. Had ESI raided the new Asuran base already? Were the rest of them rotting in a cell like her or dead already? No, she decided, he was probably just trying to throw her off. For all his bluster, this visit wasn’t much more than an elaborate fishing attempt to see what she knew.

“I’ll pat you on the back for your ingenuity,” she said. “Just open the door.”

The pause was brief but noticeable.  “I’ll cut to the point, then, if you aren’t interested in talking. The Covenant and their Angels represent the end of this world. I’m sure you’re not blind to this fact. The only way we’re going to win this war is to understand what we’re facing and learn how to neutralize it.”

“I’m not telling you where the Asuran base is,” she said. “Threaten me all you want; you can’t hurt me.”

“You know that isn’t true. But I do think your past gives you a special perspective the others lack. You understand how far people are willing to go to get what they want, and you also understand that everyone has a price.”

“Kronn won’t tell you, either,” she murmured, “or you wouldn’t be in here talking to me.”

“Talking is only the first step, and it has its limits,” he said, his voice cooling noticeably. “But I think you’re missing the point. I want the Angel, yes—it would make everything much easier to have the primary source, as it were. But there is another option that’s almost as good. As she explained to you, Angels and Demons are the same species. One is willing to push hard enough to take over control of its host, and the other is not—but the potential is there just the same.”

The chill in her spine returned. Is that all this was, then? Some precursor threat to let her know they’d be willing to dissect her on a lab table if she didn’t help them? She had no doubt they would, but she couldn’t possibly be the only Demon they had access to. Besides, her powers had never been particularly impressive.

 “I’m sure you’ve killed plenty of Demons on your lab tables,” she said. “The parasite has never acted out to defend itself. Hell, this is their world; they can probably survive without us regardless of whatever changes we’ve made to the planet—at least for a while. They might not even care what happens to the host—maybe they just go find a new one.”

“You may be right. There may not be a button we can push to bring it to the surface.” He paused, his voice like a jagged piece of metal dragging across her skin. “But that won’t stop us from trying.”

Shyrah forced herself to sit down on the cot again. Her tears had dried, and she had kept him blabbing long enough for her wits to return. She knew they wouldn’t be telling her this unless it was a threat. They wanted her to envision all the horrible things they could do to her as a “test” to try and learn what they could about the Demons. That meant that they didn’t actually want to do that, at least not yet. They wanted to give her a choice.

“So what’s your offer, then?” she asked.

Portis said nothing for almost a minute, but she could hear the muffled sounds of movement outside the cell. More guards, perhaps? She wondered idly how many they even had in this base, of if it was just some type of small secret facility buried somewhere in the city.

“Nothing complicated,” he said eventually. “As I said, we still stand a far greater chance of learning something from an Angel. Their symbiotic bond is already far more advanced.”

“There’s a Covenant Angel out there in the middle of your city—why don’t you bring him in?”

“We will if we can, but that doesn’t mean we won’t pursue other options. Give us Sariel’s location and we’ll let you go.”

Shyrah laughed. “That’s a long walk to ask one question—especially since we both know I won’t tell you anything.”

“I don’t know that for certain, and neither do you.”

“Even if I would sell them out at the drop of a hat, I wouldn’t believe your promise. You’re not going to let me go anywhere.”

“My offer is genuine,” he insisted. “Once we have her, we have no need of you. Besides, you don’t owe these people anything, and I really don’t care about the rest of the Asurans. They’re free to go on fighting the Covenant as long as they desire it. I only want one woman—a woman you don’t even particularly like, I’m told.”

She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. At first she thought he might be pointlessly antagonizing her, but no—he wanted exactly what she knew he wanted, and he wasn’t sure he could get it. Eventually he would get desperate and try other things, but so be it. She could deal with those too, and so could Kronn. Probably.

 “You don’t have to decide this moment, but consider the offer made,” Portis said. “I’ll be back later to check in on you, and I’ll have some food delivered. Good day, Miss Mulare.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she muttered under her breath after a moment, flopping down on her cot. She had been in far worse places, and as terrifying as is was to think about them sending some scrubber in here to pluck her mind of memories, she doubted they’d bother with that. Not yet, anyway—and not before they tried it on Kronn.

Shyrah grimaced at the thought. She really shouldn’t have cared what they did to him. He had just betrayed her, after all, and everyone else he claimed to be helping. She hadn’t even worked through all the implications yet—how many conversations had been worthless, how much of his advice had been ESI-tainted drivel. But despite that, she didn’t want to see him hurt.

At least, not by anyone else.

There was also another issue at hand, and it was even more pressing. As Portis had so aptly put it, Angels and Demons were the same race. That meant whatever information they could get out of Sariel, they could probably eventually get from another Demon. It also meant that she might have had one desperate chance to get out of here.

She looked down at her hands, to her slender fingers and calloused skin, and then down to her flat stomach. Somewhere in there was an alien creature, complete with its own consciousness and moral code that kept it from doing much of anything. Right now, that wasn’t going to be enough. She wondered if there was a way to convince it of that.

“I don’t know how to talk to you,” she whispered, “but I know you’re in there somewhere. And right now, I need your help. We need your help.”

She sighed, trying to get past the ridiculous feeling of what amounted to talking to herself. There had to be some way to communicate. Damien had done it. Maybe other Demons had too at some point. Maybe there was a way…

Maybe this will work better
, she thought to herself.
I have no idea how I’m supposed to communicate with you or if you’re aware of what I’m thinking, but we’re both in trouble if you can’t help me out.

Shyrah flicked her eyes around the cell and forced herself to take another calming breath. Years ago when she had been with the Syndicate, her powers had been more of a curse than a boon. Aside from what Garaldi had her do with them, the migraines and nightmares had been brutal. Kronn had come up with something to help with that, but he had also said it would also weaken her abilities. He had cut back on her dosage the other day; maybe that would make a difference…

Come on, you son of a bitch,
she thought to herself again.
Give me a sign. It’s now or never.

Chapter Sixteen

Sariel told them everything. The reason she had originally fled, why they had brought Damien here, and every tidbit they had learned after that. She had assumed that many of them had probably pieced at least some of it together before now, but apparently she had been mistaken. Woefully mistaken, even. Some were simply confused, while others felt completely betrayed. All of them were scared.

“Another Angel…” Caroline breathed incredulously. “You think that’s how they found the base?”

“We really aren’t sure, but it’s likely Avrick is the one who lead them to us, albeit unintentionally,” Sariel explained. “We were worried about some type of electronic bug or tracker, but Angels don’t need such things.”

“Shouldn’t you have known that?” Regis asked from his perch on the table.

She pursed her lips. “He’s far more powerful than I am. I don’t even know how he accomplished something like that. I suspected it was at least possible, and that’s why we got everyone we could out of there ahead of time.”

“Yeah, well, too bad for Kronn and Shyrah I guess, huh?” the man replied bitterly. “He did everything he could to help you, and here you end up getting him captured and probably tort—”

“That’s enough,” Stanson said flatly. “Kronn knew the risks, and most of it was ultimately his idea. We’re not here to blame anyone; we’re here to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.”

“If we can track down Kronn and Shyrah, that should be our first priority,” Damien suggested.

Regis snorted. “Great idea, shooting our way into an ESI compound. No offense, Incubus, but you should stick to cooking and looking pretty.”

“I think what he means is that you just got here, and you probably don’t understand the way we operate,” Caroline added diplomatically. “We’re grateful for the help, but it seems like you’ve already done your part.”

“We’re not going to abandon them,” Corin put in, turning from his makeshift computer hub on the far wall. “I have sifters running all across the Net and even the local police networks. I doubt they went far, and there’s a good chance I’ll pick up something.”

“Great, so what’s your plan, genius?” Regis asked. “It doesn’t matter if they’re stashed next door—they’ll have about a dozen ESI agents surrounding them, and probably a few hundred more waiting in the wings.”

Sariel leaned forward to get their attention. “Government agents don’t concern me. If he can find them, I can get them out.”

They all looked at her, a mix of awe and confusion on their faces. They had all seen her pull off supposed miracles before, but never on this scale—or with this amount of bloodshed.

“Didn’t you say you were sick?” Regis asked. “If these...
things
are fighting it out inside of you, how reliable are your powers right now?”

It was a perfectly reasonable question, and of course the answer was “not very.” The last time she had tried something serious at the stadium she had nearly lost control. As the days went by, that would only get worse. In a way she might have been fortunate that Avrick had knocked her out last night. If she had been forced to bring her powers to bear, maybe something would have happened. Maybe her mind would have slipped away completely.

But it hadn’t, and it was beside the point. If they had any chance at succeeding here, these people needed to believe she was still capable of miracles. They needed to believe they had at least a chance against Marivean, even if she wasn’t sure herself if that was true.

“Reliable enough for this,” she said. “Assuming it’s not some massive military installation, I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“It won’t be,” Stanson assured them. “Most of their outposts are small, underground facilities. They don’t bring prisoners to their actual office headquarters.”

 She nodded. “Well that’s that then, we just have to wait and hope we get lucky finding it. In the meantime, the ultimate problem is Marivean. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

One of the other men in the back—Jarvis, she tentatively identified him—shuffled oddly. “Not to be blunt, ma’am, but he doesn’t really care about us. He just wants you.”

This was probably going to be the most difficult part of this entire ordeal. Convincing them she could fight another Angel was one thing, but this was far more delicate. To an outsider, it would look like she was trying to save her own skin, maneuvering them to launch some near-suicidal attack in the hopes of finding a solution to her problem. From their perspective, if she just turned herself in this would all be over.

 “For now, but it won’t end there,” Sariel told them. “You’re all a part of the Asurans because you were on the run for your own lives. You feared what people might do to you because of what you are. Well, what you are is a lie. You’re not possessed by Demons. We’re just human beings, and we’re all a part of a war we didn’t even know we were fighting.” She flicked her eyes to each of them in turn. “And that war isn’t going to stop until people learn the truth.”

“People aren’t going to care,” Regis said. “We’re still different, and we’re easy scapegoats. The Covenant tells people what they want to hear. We can’t compete with that.”

“Look, I don’t care about politics,” Stanson put in gruffly, “but she has a point. Kronn set this whole thing up because he thought it would give us a chance to finally strike at the Covenant—to really hit them where it hurts. Well, this is it. We know their dirty little secret, and we can expose them.”

“It won’t be easy,” Sariel added, “and it’s going to cost us. But it may also be the only shot we’re going to get.”

Corin sighed. “Not to toss a wet blanket on all this, but I think we may be getting ahead of ourselves. We don’t know where Kronn and Shyrah are, and we don’t know where Marivean is, either. This is all pretty hypothetical, and for all we know they’re on the verge of tracking us all down.”

“That part we can take care of, at least,” Stanson said. “I did some checking this morning—there’s an old apartment building on 36th and Preston that should serve pretty well for the time being. One of our contacts out there was about to suggest it to Kronn if we needed a new hideout.”

“So Kronn doesn’t actually know about it?” Damien asked.

The man shook his head. “No, no one does except the contact and myself. If we split up into smaller groups for the time being, we can keep it that way.”

“That sounds like the best option, good work,” Sariel said. “For now…why don’t we focus on that. Get a few small groups moving over there, and Corin can get whatever equipment he needs. All our other assets should just remain on standby until we have something more concrete.”

“All right,” Stanson said. “I’ll put together a list of names of people we might want at this new place and let you know.”

Sariel nodded and gave him a tight smile. The group dispersed, and ten minutes later she and Damien were alone once more.

“That went about as well as we could expect,” the Incubus said. “Some shock and fear, but nothing too serious.”

“Not until I start ordering them to die, anyway,” she muttered, rubbing softly at her temples.

“Yeah, well, by then they’ll have had a few more days to digest it. And hopefully we can get Kronn and Shyrah back—I think that will do a lot for morale.”

“Forget morale. I just hope they’re all right.”

“They’re smart and tough. I’d give them good odds of pulling through on their own.”

She reached out a hand and touched his. He tried to send assurances through the spark but found he didn’t need to. The fear was gone, at least for the moment.

“Let’s go check out our new home,” she told him. “Then once we’re there, maybe I’ll start my own search for Marivean.”

“You think you can sense him?” he asked.

“I doubt it. If I could, he would have already found me. But I still think it’s worth the effort just to see how well I can hold up. If I can’t, I at least want you there with me. Besides, maybe I’ll get lucky and find our friends instead.”

He nodded. “I hope so.”

“So do I,” she whispered.

***

Kronn did his best not to scowl as the two ESI guards dropped him roughly into the cold metal chair. The man across from him pressed his fingertips together as he glanced between a pair of datapads, looking for all the world like he didn’t even notice Kronn’s presence.

As a younger man, Kronn had been intimidated by people like this. The sleek metal room, the bright lights, the nicely dressed men with cold, uncaring faces…it had all been unsettling, just as it was intended to be. But then he had joined up with ESI, and after all the interrogations and polygraphs, this type of thing didn’t really phase him anymore. Once you saw a thing from the inside, it became far less intimidating.

Usually, anyway. In this case he also knew exactly what Portis and the others were capable of, and what measures they would use to get what they wanted. A polygraph was the least of his worries.

“This seems unnecessary,” Kronn commented, lifting his cuffed hands up onto the table. The two men that had brought him in backed up a few meters towards the door. “I told you I’d cooperate.”

“So you did,” Portis replied, lazily glancing up from the datapads. “I just don’t believe you.”

“You haven’t even asked me anything yet.”

“I figured you could use some sleep before we got started. You have a lot to think about.”

Kronn snorted derisively and leaned back in his chair. “So what do you want?”

“I want you to understand what you cost us yesterday,” the man said stiffly. “And I want you to help us make up for that mistake.”

“I don’t know where she is or if she’s even alive.”

“She’s alive,” Portis assured him. “And you know where she’s likely to go.”

Kronn sighed. “I won’t help you hunt her down.”

“You said you would cooperate.”

“I will, with anything else,” Kronn replied. “In case you forgot, there’s still a Covenant Angel out there. He’s the real threat—he’s the one you should be focusing on. Get a hold of him and you’ll have a stable lab rat to prod to your heart’s content. We can even work together to find him.”

Portis leaned back and scratched at his chin. “I wonder when exactly it was when you lost perspective here, Sam. A month ago? Two, perhaps? How long did it take Sariel to cast her spell on you?”

“When did you forget these people are human beings?”

The man snorted. “We both know that isn’t true. You confirmed it yesterday. They are
aliens
, Sam, not humans. Aliens bent on subverting our way of life and conquering this world without firing a single shot.” He paused, taking in a deep breath and shaking his head. “The one chance we have—the only chance we have—is to find a way to drive them out. And we can’t do that without her.”

“I’ve had six months to study her, and you have all of my results,” Kronn said. “There’s nothing else to learn.”

“We have far more resources than you ever did in those rustic little camps of yours,” Portis reminded him. “With real tools, we can learn—”

“Nothing,” Kronn snapped. “That’s exactly what you’ll learn. There’s no instrument capable of detecting these things. There’s nothing else you can do.”

Portis eyed him meaningfully. “So you were planning on doing nothing, then? On letting her rot away while you insisted there was nothing you could do? I know you too well to believe that.”

“The only people who might know anything are in the Covenant, and they’re right here in your bloody city. Instead of wasting time harassing my people you could be out finding Marivean.”

Portis turned away. “Let me ask you something, Sam. Imagine if one of our ancestors a millennium ago had the opportunity to cure the Bubonic Plague, or AIDS or cancer or any other disease that ravaged Earth. Imagine if that opportunity had come in the form of a single person—one life sacrificed to save billions.”

“That won’t work on me,” Kronn said. “It’s a glib rationalization and you know it. There’s no guarantee Sariel will provide you with any type of ‘cure.’ The only thing you can guarantee is that she’ll spend the last weeks of her life being tortured by ESI scientists.”

“So what were you going to do, then? Have your people launch their own attack on Marivean? How many lives do you think that would cost? How many of your people would die just to have a chance to help her? A chance, mind you, that is unlikely to be any better than the one I’m offering.”