Othermoon (25 page)

He recoiled from me as if I were radioactive, pressing back against Siku. I bit my
lip to keep from bursting into tears, and kept moving forward. I squinted around the
corner to see another ten yards of tunnel dead-ending at a large door big enough for
trucks and, set next to it, a human-sized door. Both were constructed of heavy, reinforced
metal. Lazar should be waiting just beyond the regular door for us, if all had gone
as planned. The truck entrance led to storage and construction areas that were sealed
off from the more secret control rooms.

Two empty folding chairs sat next to a small table covered with playing cards in the
middle of a game and two steaming cups of coffee. November scurried past that to the
regular door and, gripping the doorframe with her tiny claws, climbed up to another
keypad. This one featured a pad of numbers with a screen just below it.

November chittered and beckoned us forward with her paw.

“We’re up,” I said to Caleb, keeping my voice neutral. We grabbed the unconscious
man again to haul him over to the locked door. With the Shadow Blade I could have
cut right through the lock, but that was likely to set off alarms. The longer we could
hold that off, the better. As we approached, November punched in the code, and Caleb
took the man’s wrist, positioned his hand over the lock’s sensor, and pressed it down.

The door clicked open. November leaped to the floor and threw her small frame against
the bottom of it, but it wouldn’t budge. Caleb and I set the man’s body down as the
others jogged up. Caleb took the second gun from Amaris, checking to make sure it
was loaded and ready. She slipped the extra mags into his coat pocket.

I scanned the faces around me. London’s blue eyes were wide and feral. Siku’s small
black eyes were focused, with Arnaldo tensely gripping his shoulder above. At my feet,
November danced on her back legs with nervous anticipation. Amaris stood with the
gun in both hands, blond hair pulled back, face serious. And Caleb, silver gun now
tucked in his belt, reached his hand into the internal pocket of his coat, as if making
sure whatever he had was still there. Their attention narrowed to my face, and for
a moment, we were united.

“This is it,” I said. “If we stop them here, we just might stop them forever. Let’s
go.”

I pushed the door open, using the doorframe as cover, and we all looked inside. Nothing
but a small hallway lay in front of us, furnished with a mini-fridge and a hotplate
with a half-filled coffeepot set on top. The door at the far end snapped open, and
I nearly jumped out of my skin as a figure in Tribunal white appeared.

It was Lazar, a finger to his lips, brown eyes sweeping over us apprehensively. The
sight of him sent a new kind of tension through the group. For me, the relief at seeing
him made my knees weak. So far, our plan was going better than I’d hoped.

Lazar motioned us forward, stepping back to give us room.

I shot a look at Caleb, who still had one hand stuffed into his internal breast pocket,
eyebrows lowered, eyes black but specked with gold. His other hand clenched into a
fist, and I thought he might cast something at Lazar and call forth shadow to injure
or kill.

Then he turned his head and our gazes met. The moment seemed to last an eternity,
and I saw a dozen thoughts flash behind his eyes: anger at Lazar, anger and something
more complex at me, a murderous itch, and finally a conscious effort to rein in those
feelings. His eyelids fell to veil his eyes as he took his hand out of his pocket,
empty. Then he motioned to me, inviting me to go first.

Had he given up the thought of killing Lazar, or was he biding his time? Uncertain
of almost everything I’d once taken for granted, I stepped forward into the Tribunal’s
top-secret underground bunker at last.

CHAPTER 20

Lazar held the door open for me as I entered a small, brightly lit room. I brushed
past him, aware of the stamp of fatigue under his eyes, the trace of golden stubble
on his jaw. One half-open door led to a bathroom next to another small space that
looked like a closet full of brooms, buckets, and other janitorial supplies. The room
was otherwise bare, painted a stark white, except for a black metal door in the far
wall.

I turned to Lazar and held out my hand, feeling grim, but wanting to cement my gratitude.
He took my hand, eyes focused and determined. The handshake became an agreement:
We will do this.
Siku walked in with his cargo of eagle and rat, followed by London and Amaris.

Lazar did a double-take at the sight of Siku, who even on all fours was as tall at
the shoulder as he. The bear’s fuzzy bulk took up half the room. Caleb walked over
to stand by Siku, as if making it clear where his sympathies lay.

Lazar was somehow still holding my hand. I dropped his grip, flushing and, marshaling
whatever composure I had, raised an eyebrow at him inquiringly.

He pointed at the black door and spoke in a low tone. “Long hallway through there,
leads down past various bedrooms.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Amaris said.

“But odds are good we’ll wake someone up,” I said. “So be ready.”

Lazar went on. “I’ll get us through the security doors until we reach the scientists’
rooms. We’ll need one of them, preferably alive and awake, to get through the last
door to the mainframe computer and then the accelerator itself.”

“And if none of them happen to be available both awake and alive?” Caleb asked, his
voice flat. His arms were folded across his chest. His whole stance was an objection.

“We can still get into those rooms using their handprint, just like you did with Noah
there.” Lazar gestured in the direction of the unconscious objurer we’d left outside.
“But it’ll take longer to download the information, since I don’t have access to the
pass codes.”

“Awake and alive if we can then,” I said, and then nodded at Lazar. “Let’s go.”

We clustered to the left of the door as Lazar stepped up to the keypad on the right,
punching in the code, then pressing his palm to the sensor. Something buzzed faintly,
and the door lock clicked open. Lazar laid his hand on the knob, but I shook my head
and pushed his arm away.

“Behind me,” I whispered.

His jaw set. He was about to object, but I squinted a warning at him and shook my
head once.

He glanced over at my assembled friends, then back at me, and his face relaxed. He
bowed slightly at the waist, conceding that I was in charge. I believed he was truly
here to help us, but even so I couldn’t take the chance he would charge ahead and
lead us into a trap. Also, my dubious friends would feel more comfortable with him
in their midst, where they could keep an eye on him.

I held up my hand to show I was ready, taut with anticipation. The door pushed inward,
and I used it as cover for my body as I swung it slowly open to find a long hallway
that sloped down. It was empty of life and decoration, ten feet wide and a hundred
feet long, set with one door to the right side and series of doors on the left. It
also descended at a sharp angle, as if eager to plunge into the depths of the earth.
Greenish fluorescent bulbs were set in the ceiling, though only half were lit, probably
because it was the middle of the night.

Behind me, my friends were craning their necks to see. I opened the door fully and
moved down, keeping my steps on the cement floor as silent as possible.

With a bit of scuffle from Siku’s nails, we progressed down the hall. Heading down
at such a steep angle, it felt like we were entering an ancient Egyptian tomb that
some obsessive-compulsive archaeologist had dusted and paved.

I ticked off where the doors led to in my head, recalling the plans Lazar had given
us. The utility closet lay to the right, containing a generator and tools. On the
left lay a lounge, the kitchen, dining area, and the gym, with its showers and restrooms.
Past the gym lay one door, decorated with a huge golden cross: the chapel. There the
hallway ended in another metal door identical to the one we’d just come through.

I reached it, still not quite believing we’d gotten this far without being detected.
Over the door I spotted a camera. I turned to Lazar, who was following right behind
me, and pointed at it, a questioning look on my face.

He made a cutting motion across his throat. So he’d hacked that camera.

I mouthed the word “Good” at him, then ushered him to the keypad next to this door.
My friends were lined up in single file, waiting, the Siku express coming first, then
London, and Amaris, with Caleb dourly bringing up the rear like some black-coated
messenger of doom.

Lazar unlocked it exactly as he had before, and this time he stepped back to let me
open it. As I laid my hand on it, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a shiny
silver pistol.

Siku growled a low warning. I dodged to the right, expecting a bullet. Caleb flew
into Lazar, tackling him to the floor with a muffled thump.

“Wha—?” Lazar started to say, but Caleb had one hand over his mouth, the other locked
around his throat from behind, legs pinning Lazar’s to the floor.

November jumped down off Siku’s head and onto Lazar’s. She thrust her whiskered face
right up to his and chittered furiously. He struggled in vain against Caleb’s grip,
words stifled.

My thoughts came together. Caleb had been incredibly quick, but not quick enough.
Lazar had had plenty of time to shoot me, or any of us, if he wanted. I squatted down
in front of him and whispered, “Were you going to shoot?”

He shook his head as vehemently as Caleb’s grip allowed.

“Were you pulling out your gun to help us in case we needed it?”

He nodded, relief in his eyes as they flew from me to Caleb, then going a bit cross-eyed
to focus on November hanging upside-down over his forehead.

“Drop the gun,” I said,

Metal clinked somewhere underneath his body as I hissed back at everyone else, “Be
ready in case they heard us!”

Amaris turned to face the length of hallway behind us. I reached under Lazar, hand
brushing against his waist, and pulled the gun out. The silver stung my skin and,
remembering Morfael’s training, I imagined the itch of the metal flowing down through
me, out through my feet, and into the floor. It made the pain of contact bearable
for a little while at least. I stood up.

“Let him go,” I said to Caleb, waving at November to get off.

November skittered back to Siku. Caleb’s grip tightened around Lazar’s throat for
a second in warning; then he let go and got to his feet.

I leaned in so only Caleb could hear, and said, “Thank you.”

He gave me a curt nod, but didn’t relax his guarded stance over Lazar.

Lazar massaged his throat as he stood, the front of his white shirt and pants imprinted
with gray dust from the floor. I expected him to be angry, but instead he looked disappointed
in himself.

“Guess I asked for that,” he said, speaking softly. “My father’s quarters are the
first on the left through that door, and I wanted to keep you covered.”

I nodded and handed the gun back.

Caleb hissed in objection. I kept my eyes on Lazar, ignoring Caleb. “Don’t do anything
without indicating to me first,” I said. “For your own safety as well as everyone
else’s.”

“Got it.” He hefted the gun, pointing it at the ceiling in a style similar to his
sister’s. “After you, General Grey.”

The door was still unlocked. They all looked ready to jump out of their skins, so
I pushed it open.

The hallway extended for another forty feet, then turned left. Only one door stood
to the left, and that, I knew, led into Ximon’s quarters.

Nearly on tiptoe, I passed that door and peered around the corner. The others followed
suit. Despite that little misunderstanding, things were going far better than I’d
expected. Somehow the scuffle in the hall hadn’t drawn attention.

To the left, the hall stretched fifty feet, dead-ending in another security door.
The regular door halfway down on the left led into the scientists’ quarters. According
to Lazar, four people slept there. The other two doors, on the right, led to dorms
for Tribunal guards and technicians. By my count, twenty-five of them were housed
in there. One wrong move and we’d alert them all and bring them down on us en masse.

I pointed at the door to the scientists’ room, and Caleb, Amaris, and London moved
around me, positioning themselves on either side of it. London prepared to spring,
and Caleb took out a salt shaker.

Lazar frowned in puzzlement. I held up a finger to him, telling him to wait, and then
motioned to Siku. He trotted forward with his heavy rolling gait, to stand in front
of the security door at the end, November and Arnaldo still riding him like the world’s
craziest circus act.

I leaned in to Lazar, mouth to his ear. It was weirdly intimate. My nerves were pulsing
with the buzz of impending action. “Cover the first door on the right,” I told him.

He blinked, still puzzled, but whispered, “Aye, aye.” He moved to point his gun at
the door leading to the room full of sleeping objurers.

I crept past Lazar to the second door on the right. Behind it lay more sleeping objurers
and technicians. The lock next to it looked exactly the same as the others had—a keypad
with a hand scanner. I pulled the Shadow Blade out of its sheath. Cool certainty washed
over me as if I’d dived into a forest pond. I hefted the knife with its smoking black
edge and sank it into the keypad to the hilt.

Sparks flew from the lock as the wires fizzed. I thought I heard a startled shout
from behind the door, but I didn’t wait. I sprinted the few strides to the door Lazar
was covering and knifed that lock too. Smoke rose.

I turned to Lazar. His gun didn’t waver, though he was staring in astonishment at
the Shadow Blade. “Cover your father’s door now, please.”

He swiveled with professional grace to train the gun on Ximon’s door as I sprinted
back and gave its lock the same treatment with the Blade. “Should take them a little
while to get out.” I jogged back around the corner to where the others waited outside
the door on the left. “Scientists?”

As if I’d commanded it, the door to the scientists’ room swung open. A fiftyish woman
in white flannel pajamas stuck her head out, squinting in the greenish light of the
hallway. “What the . . . ?” She froze as Amaris pointed the gun at her head and London
showed her teeth.

“Hello.” Caleb brandished the salt shaker, sprinkling her. “Good-bye.” And, humming
a quiet note, he lifted a finger and a spark of black flew at her.

She opened her mouth to scream, but when Caleb’s power touched the salt, a web of
sticky yellow goo exploded outward, encasing her. She tried to give a dampened scream,
but her mouth was encased. Caleb pried a bit of it away from her nose so she could
breathe. “Sorry about that.”

Voices called out from the room behind her. Caleb picked her up bodily and set her
wiggling form out of the way as London shot through the door in a silver streak. Amaris
followed her and several male voices bellowed in alarm. Caleb followed her.

“Hands on the back of your heads, gentlemen!” Amaris shouted.

I reached the doorway to see three rumpled middle-aged men in white pajamas in a room
about twenty feet by twenty furnished with four slept-in twin beds and several stand-alone
wardrobes. The walls, as usual, gleamed starkly white, the only decoration a cross
over each bed. One of the three lay on his back on the floor, with London standing
over him, paws on his chest. She pushed her teeth closer to his throat, snarling.
The other two huddled in the back corner, faces pale.

“Please!” said the one on the floor, trembling and digging the back of his head into
the floor in a vain attempt to get away. “Call off your dog!”

London growled.

“Wolves do as they please,” I said. “Stop calling her a dog, and you might live.”

“Sorry,” he said up at her. “I’m so sorry!”

“Otherkin!” the fattest man said, hands out in front of him, as if warding us off.
“How did you get in here?”

“Easily,” said Caleb. “Now, which of you is in charge of this little project?”

The three men exchanged nervous looks. “What project do you mean?” asked the balding
one standing next to the fat man.

Caleb took a slingshot out of his pocket and then, as they all watched in horrified
fascination, took out a handful of buttons. “Which do you want?” he asked, holding
his hand out flat so they could see the buttons, red and blue, arrayed there. “Ice
or fire?”

“What do you mean?” the fat one asked, after a brief hesitation that made it clear
he knew exactly what Caleb meant.

Behind us I could hear pounding on the doors of the rooms I’d locked up. “No one’s
coming to help you,” I said. “Quit stalling and help yourselves.”

“We—we don’t know anything!” the fat man said. “We’re just hired workers.”

“Lazar,” I said. Behind me, Lazar walked to stand in the doorway, the light from above
haloing his gold hair. “Which one’s in charge?”

“Dooley,” said Lazar.

“No, not me!” the fat one said, backing into the wall behind him. “I can’t tell you
anything.”

“Reverend Lazar?” the bald scientist said. “Have you betrayed us?”

“It was the only way to save you.” Lazar paced into the room. “Tell them what you
know or they’ll use your hands to open the doors without you attached.”

“Do it!” shouted the man on the floor with London looming over him.