Deadly Weakness (Gray Spear Society) (20 page)

"I can guess how this story ends based on which crown survived."

Xavier nodded. "All it took was one mistranslated word, and the fight was on. The English had brought guns, swords, and steel armor. The Indians were armed with tomahawks and bows. They lost, badly. Thus, control of the North American division passed into European hands permanently. Black Deer's crown was destroyed."

"I knew that story," Ethel said, "but you told it well."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Aaron faced the legate. "How much of the
tabella
have you read?"

"These days I generally do my reading while I'm flying on my jet," she said. "I've gotten through a hundred and twenty books I believe. I doubt I'll survive long enough to get through the whole set."

"Sounds like I have some catching up to do. I don't even know Latin."

"You're young. You have plenty of time, but you probably should get started. Reading the
tabella
can be very enlightening. I'm sure you'll enjoy the experience once you get past the hurdle of an ancient language with tricky grammar."

"Thank you for the suggestion, ma'am," Aaron said.

She nodded. "I suppose one of my favorite stories is the first one in the entire collection. It describes how the Gray Spear Society was founded."

"I'd love to hear it."

Hammer leaned forward. "Me, too, ma'am."

"Then I'll tell it," Ethel said. "For as long as man has walked the Earth, God has designated certain individuals as special. There were always secret guardians. In ancient times, no formal organization existed though. The guardians operated alone or in small groups. Sometimes families worked together as a team. Most never left the village they were born in, and territories were small. Each guardian served God in his own particular way. The Roman Empire changed that."

She took a drink from her cup.

She continued, "For the first time in history, it was possible for a single group to protect a very large territory. The Romans developed the roads and other technologies needed to achieve effective operational control over long distances. A precursor to the Gray Spear Society formed and grew within the Roman Empire. They were known as the Nightshades, and their symbol was the flower of the deadly nightshade or belladonna plant. Their preferred means of killing was poison, obviously. The Nightshades guarded Europe, parts of Africa, and the Middle East from 500 BC to 500 AD.

"The Nightshades were a flawed organization though. They operated far too openly. They held public trials of people suspected of being in league with the enemies of God. They left bodies in town squares. The Nightshades even performed large scale witch hunts across the countryside and invited civilians to participate. Their methods were brutal and undisciplined."

The Society is just as brutal today,
Xavier thought.

"The madness reached its peak in the year 500," Ethel said. "The head of the Nightshades at the time was named Scipio. He was a paranoid megalomaniac who couldn't distinguish between God's enemies and his own personal rivals. He became frustrated with Anastasius, emperor of the Byzantine Empire, who was ignoring Scipio's demands. Scipio decided to solve the problem by killing Anastasius and replacing him as emperor. Scipio intended to take direct control of the entire Byzantine Empire.

"Then God stepped in. In the middle of the night, every Nightshade burst into flame and burned until only gray ash was left. Witnesses reported the deaths were slow and excruciating. Anybody who touched the gray ashes before they washed away eventually became a member of the new Gray Spear Society. Scipio himself didn't burn. He detonated. The crater he left behind was big enough to swallow a house."

Xavier nodded. He had read the same story and believed every word. It matched his own experiences with a cruel and capricious Almighty.

"I should take my seat, ma'am," Xavier said. "I don't want to monopolize your time. This is Hammer's night, not mine."

Ethel made a small gesture with her hand. "You're dismissed."

He quickly walked off.

* * *

An hour later, Xavier was back in his cabin. He had reached his limit of staring at food he couldn't eat and listening to people who should be dead.

He was sitting on his bed, deep in thought. He had a paper map of Camp Zonta in his hand, and the subtitle read, "the funnest fun in Wisconsin!" The map certainly looked like an accurate depiction of the place where he was staying. The buildings appeared to be in the right places. The little drawings of animals around the edges were adorable. The photocopy even had the imperfections he associated with an old copy machine. In other words, it was a great forgery.

Xavier took out his regular gray phone. He couldn't hide this call from the Society, and there wasn't much need anyway.

He put in the number for Dew, his computer expert back in Houston. Hopefully, Dew was sitting at his workstation.

"Hello, sir," Dew answered immediately.

"Hey," Xavier said. "How are things back there?"

"Quiet. It's strange not having you and Sampson around."

"Anything I should be dealing with?"

"Not that I'm aware of, sir," Dew said. "What's the convention like?"

"It's been interesting. I'll give everybody a full report when I get back. We had a tournament today. All the second in commands fought each other."

"I bet Sampson did well. He's a great fighter."

"But he's only human," Xavier said. "He barely reached the second round. There are some real freaks here. Actually, I called you because I have a very strange question. Where am I?"

"Let me see." Dew typed on a keyboard. "Eastern Wisconsin. On the satellite photo, it looks like a big summer camp in the woods. The convention is there?"

"Apparently. Does this camp have a name?"

There was more typing. "Camp Zonta."

"How do you know I'm there?" Xavier narrowed his eyes.

"The tracking system in your phone."

"And it's working correctly? Can you check it?"

"Yes, sir." Dew typed some more. "The signal is strong. No fault indicators. GPS is locked in. Short range and long range triangulation are showing the same coordinates. I'd say it's working perfectly."

"Hmm." Xavier furrowed his brow. "What if I told you I believe my phone is lying."

"I'd wonder if you were drunk, sir."

"What if it were hacked?"

"That system is designed to be tamperproof," Dew said. "There are multiple layers of high grade security. If anybody had tried to physically or electronically hack your phone, I'd see it on my diagnostics. But just to be safe, I'll double-check... the software looks good, sir. You're running the latest release and every byte is correct."

"I'm still convinced my phone is lying," Xavier said. "I'm not in Camp Zonta, and I'd really like to know where I actually am. Let's assume for the sake of discussion that somebody hacked my phone. Who could've done such a thing?"

Dew exhaled. "To penetrate all the security and fool all the diagnostics, you'd have to be some kind of super-genius. At a minimum, you'd need access to all the system specifications. We're talking about somebody inside the Society."

"So, a Society hacker like you could do it?"

"I couldn't, and you know how smart I am. We're still talking about an incredibly difficult problem. Just getting all the math right would be... hmm."

"What?" Xavier said.

"There is one, or rather two hackers who might be able to pull it off."

"Who?"

"Bethany and Leanna," Dew said in a tone of deep reverence. "The twins."

"Who are they?"

"Part of the Chicago team."

That piece of information grabbed Xavier's attention.
The twins work for Aaron.
"They're smart?"

"Calling them smart is like saying Mount Everest is a big hill," Dew said. "The twins operate on a different level than us mere mortals. The headset I'm wearing right now was designed by them, and it's by far the coolest piece of equipment I have. Ever since they joined the Society, they've been making upgrades to our entire infrastructure. They even invented a completely new form of encryption."

"Let's say the twins hacked my phone. Could you unhack it?"

"You want me to take on the twins? Are you kidding?"

"Where is your sense of adventure?" Xavier said enthusiastically.

"What's this about, sir? What's really going on? I'm coming back to the theory you've been drinking heavily."

Xavier took a deep breath. He had pushed this conversation as far as he dared. "The wine was really good tonight. Maybe I did imbibe excessively. Let's just forget we had this crazy conversation."

"Good idea, sir. I can't imagine any reason why the twins would hack the tracking system. That would be extremely confusing and dangerous. They could get into a lot of trouble."

Exactly,
Xavier thought. "Good night. I'll go to bed and try to sleep off the wine before I make any more dumb phone calls."

"Good night."

Xavier put his phone away.

The conversation with Dew hadn't been as useful as he had hoped. Xavier still didn't know where he was. At least he had confirmed he probably wasn't in Camp Zonta, which meant Hanley had attacked the right target after all.

Aaron was playing some kind of deep game, probably with Ethel's blessing. Xavier had to believe his own activities were the reason for the intricate deception. However, nobody was bursting into his cabin and killing him. He had left the banquet without anybody getting in his way. Aaron and Ethel had spoken to him just the one time with no apparent hostility. All the evidence suggested Xavier hadn't been identified as a traitor.

He decided to not flee quite yet. His top priority was discovering his true location and passing that information off to Hanley. Xavier would work on that problem first thing in the morning. He had told everybody he would stay in his cabin, so he would. He couldn't risk getting caught outside after making such a big deal about being sick.

Getting a full night of sleep was a good idea anyway. He might not get another chance for a while, maybe even the rest of his life.

* * *

Dew stared at his computer monitors. The call with Xavier had left him baffled. The commander was a notoriously serious and sober man. He never proposed a theory unless he was fairly certain it was a fact. In all the years Dew had served Xavier, they had never had a conversation like that.

Dew realized he was hungry and should eat dinner. He was about to take off his headset when his phone rang. He didn't recognize the caller ID, which bothered him. The list of people who knew his number was short.

He answered the call through his headset. "Hello?" he said. "Who is this?"

"Ethel," a woman replied.

He knew that name and that voice. A cold finger ran down his spine. He had met the legate only once, but the experience had left a lasting impression. She seemed to carry the specter of death with her like an outer garment. When he had looked into her eyes, he had seen his own annihilation.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" Dew said in a quavering tone.

"You were just speaking with Xavier."

"Yes, ma'am. How did you know?"

"The twins listened to the conversation," she said. "They reported it to their commander, who reported it to me."

He began to shiver. Whatever was going on, it was very bad. "Why, ma'am?"

"Let me ask you a question first. It's a very important one, so pay close attention. Your answer will have a direct bearing on your short term survival. Are you listening?"

"Yes, ma'am." His voice was tight.

"Consider the list of the following things: God, the Society, myself, and Xavier. Of those four, which one are you most loyal to? To which do you owe the greatest responsibility?"

The answer seemed obvious, but Dew's mind was racing. Was it a trick question? If he made a mistake, he doubted she would give him a second chance.

"God," he said tentatively.

"Correct," she said. "Which one is second on the list?"

This answer wasn't as obvious. Arguments could be made for all three possible responses. He tried to imagine what she wanted to hear. Did the legate place herself above or below the Society as a whole? Did she expect him to follow Xavier's orders regardless of other considerations? Dew started to hyperventilate. He imagined Ethel's dark eyes staring at him while she waited for an answer.

"The Society," he said at last.

"Well done. Which one is third? If I gave you an order, and Xavier gave you a conflicting order, who would you obey?"

The most obvious answer was also the safest. "You, ma'am."

"Which puts Xavier properly in last place," she said.

"Yes, ma'am." He felt enormous relief. He had passed the test and would be allowed to live.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? Regarding your question, I'll tell you exactly what's happening when I'm there on Monday. I'll personally brief your entire team."