Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (42 page)

Scott smirked. “Yeah, I’ll bet. I remember what it was like to be a newlywed.”

“Um, we’re not married, Scotty.”

Scott looked at him knowingly. “How long do you plan to be together?”

“For as long as he’s alive.”

Scott smiled. “Then maybe you should give that some thought sometime.”

“Vampires don’t usually go for that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, because you’ve always been one to stick with convention?” Scott snorted.

Nick looked away. “I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

Turning to the security monitors, Scott watched as another group of reporters entered the briefing room. “I guess it would set my mind at ease if I knew you were settled.”

Nick pulled his chair a little closer. “I know you feel responsible for me after what you saw that night in Ottawa,” he said. “I will always love you, no matter what, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m happy—and sober. The future will take care of itself. I’ll be fine.”

“It looks like everyone’s here.” Scott changed the subject as he watched the last reporter take his seat.

“Then let’s get it over with.” Nick placed his hand on the security plate, and the door slid silently aside, allowing them to walk out onto the dais before the assembled members of the press.

* * *

Three floors above, an agent in her mid-twenties stood uncertainly in one of the major intersections of the senior staff offices and tugged on her blonde braid uncertainly. She rechecked the map in her hand. How anyone managed to navigate this place, she had no idea. Finally, she found the large double office she wanted and knocked perfunctorily before stepping through the open door.

At the knock, Ana looked up. “Can I help you, Agent?” She turned her chair to face the visitor.

Natalya handed over the files she carried. “Yes, Ma’am. Here are the paper files you requested—the journalist candidates to join the human delegation at the Armistice Day celebration next month.”

Ana sighed. “Thanks. Most of them have been in the business so long that the bulk of their work is offline. How many have made the cut so far?” Ana flipped through the dossiers.

“Eighteen, Ma’am.”

Ana laughed. “What’s your name, Agent?”

“Natalya, Ma’am. Natalya Chernikova.”

“Natalya, Sentinels don’t need to stand on formality. My name’s Ana, not ‘ma’am’.” She noticed the map in Natalya’s hand. “Are you new? I don’t believe we’ve met, although that wouldn’t be hard in this madhouse.”

“Yes, Ma’am—Ana,” she corrected herself. “I entered the Armistice Zone four months ago, after emigrating from Moscow.”

“I see.” Ana gestured for her to sit. “How do you find life in the Zone?”

“It was something of an adjustment.” Natalya sat on the edge of the office chair, obviously uncomfortable at the gesture of familiarity. “I am a magician.” She tapped the red sword in the Armistice Security logo on her shirt. “There are wonders of magic here I would never have believed possible if I had not seen them myself.”

Ana smiled. “It can take some getting used to. When the temporal manipulation field came down once the construction of Anchorpoint was complete, Take and I drove out from Grand Junction. It was a dirt road, closed to traffic, and even I felt the psychic ward that made humans ignore that entire block of forest. When we hit the perimeter screen, the trees disappeared. All around us was the city, spearing into the sky. All I could think was, ‘What the hell have I gotten myself into?’”

“I felt something similar when I killed my first Nightwalker, in the shadow of St. Basil’s Cathedral,” Natalya said quietly. “But that was not so pleasant an experience.”

Ana’s smile faded. “That’s why we’re all here, Natalya,” she said. “To keep our people from having to kill just to satisfy the needs of the Gift, while the humans live sheltered lives built on our suffering.”

“To be sure,” said Natalya, giving her a hard look. “My Lady, you are the Wind of Fire. A question has been bothering me, and I wonder if you can direct me to an answer.”

Ana’s expression was quizzical. “Certainly, I’d be happy to help. But I told you, Natalya, my name is Ana, not Ma’am, and definitely not Lady. What do you want to know?”

“I was born to war, Ana.” Natalya fixed her with an intense gaze. “My Gift gives me great flexibility in finding new ways to fight, just as yours does. I have always been greatly puzzled by the defenses I felt when I first entered the Armistice Zone. How can a perimeter ward be continuously maintained over such a large area, without constant reinforcement of the spell? I don’t understand how it can exist for more than a few seconds without collapsing entirely. Everything I know of magic tells me it shouldn’t be possible, yet it is.”

Ana looked surprised momentarily and then shrugged. “The basic principle is simple. The defense shield isn’t continuous. It’s a network of smaller wards, each cast on a specially designed artifact called a shield emitter. These are locked into a permanent standing wave so the network can be maintained indefinitely. The emitters are then aligned in an interlocked and overlapping configuration, creating a solid wall of force along the long axis of the shield grid. The grid is controlled by modulating the flow of power from Anchorpoint to the emitters, so that the shield can be opened at select locations. So, in a way, you’re right—without that continuous flow of power, the shield would exhaust itself and fade almost immediately.”

“My God! That would work,” Natalya said in wonder. “Magnificent.”

Ana smiled. “It took a cooperative research team of vampires and Sentinels to figure out the parameters of the spells required and translate them into technology. It was one of the first successful hybrid projects in the early days of the Armistice, combining Sentinel and vampire magic. I looked up some of the spellforms once, just out of curiosity. They came up with a truly elegant design.”

Natalya looked at her sharply. “You have seen the actual spellforms? I didn’t think those were available in the archives.”

Ana raised one eyebrow. “They’re restricted. You need Protector clearance or above to access them.”

“Oh,” Natalya said. “Pity.” She looked at Ana wistfully. “I don’t suppose—”

Ana shook her head. “Sorry. It’s restricted for a reason. You need to serve for at least three years before you’re allowed access to that level of military technology. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Of course.” Natalya smiled at her again. “Thank you, Ana, for clarifying that. At least I now have an idea how it all fits together. I appreciate you taking the time to explain it to me.”

Ana grinned back at her. “No problem.” She began sorting through the files Natalya had brought. “Though, honestly, if you want to get a better sense of the basic principles, you just have to toss a brick at one of the windows.”

Natalya froze in place. “I beg your pardon?”

Ana looked up at her, surprised. “The safety field that blocks projectiles from going through the windows. It’s the same principle, only on a much smaller scale. You didn’t know that?”

“Are you saying those force screens are the same design as those that protect the entire Zone and the Hidden Cities?”

“Pretty much. The window shields are actually designed to stop missiles, in case the humans decide to attack us. The shield emitter technology is identical, but their power supply is derived from the building’s internal generator. Just don’t try to pry one off the wall to make a study of it, because you’ll trigger a level II lockdown of the entire facility while the security breach is investigated.”

Natalya swallowed, her mind racing. “I see. That will be most helpful.”

“Glad to be of service. Thanks for dropping by.”

Natalya faced Ana squarely. “No, Ana,” she said with great dignity, “thank
you
.”

P
ART
VII
: 
M
EETING OF THE
M
INDS

C
HAPTER 34

September 2041; Armistice Embassy, Washington, D.C.; Twenty months after public exposure

The President and First Lady exited their limousine and were immediately surrounded by four Secret Service agents in navy blue tuxedos. Flashes illuminated them as the TV crew and reporter joined them, and the group made its way to the embassy entrance. The two Sentinels bowed to them as the solid metal door bearing the seal of the Triumvirate slid silently aside.

Entering first, two agents examined the area for threats before allowing the rest of the party to enter the large triangular atrium of the lobby. Light from the crystal chandelier glistened off the black marble floors and illuminated four overstuffed white leather couches, but the group did not sit. Instead, they stood in the atrium, waiting for instructions.

“Mr. President, welcome to the embassy.” Ana entered from the long adjoining hallway, regal in her silver gown and white half-jacket, embroidered with the seal of House Jiao-long and bearing an Armistice Security lapel pin. She reached out a hand in greeting. “We’re honored you chose to accept our invitation.”

“The chance to see your world for myself was too great an opportunity to pass up,” said President Daniels with a curt nod of greeting. “Will the Ambassador be joining us?”

“Unfortunately, no. Not right away. Nicholas had to go to Egypt to iron out some final details with the Court of Shadows delegation. It’s my job to greet you and act as your host on his behalf until he returns later.” She turned to Catherine, the First Lady. “Madam First Lady, thank you for coming.”

She smiled pleasantly. “Thank you for the invitation.”

Before Ana could even extend her hand to the journalist, the reporter’s hand shot out toward her.

“Special Agent Nizhoni, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ana shook her hand. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Bradshaw. As you may know, we asked for you specifically.”

“So I was told. May I ask why?”

“We have the utmost respect for your work, and while your specialty is countries outside of the United States we felt your experience with different cultures would help separate human assumptions about us from the reality.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” The reporter’s extraordinarily white teeth flashed from her heavily made-up mouth as she smiled. “I’ll do my best to provide a balanced portrayal.”

Ana laughed. “A balanced portrayal may not be possible; our people tend to extremes. However, we hope you’ll take the time to try to understand our attitudes before you pass judgment.”

“As I said, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all we ask. Good luck with your broadcast.”

Glancing at the four Secret Service agents, Ana opened her mouth to say something and then stopped, her expression hardening. “Wait a minute.” She pointed at one of the agents. “Who the hell are you?”

One of the other agents stepped forward. “Special Agent Nizhoni, I’m Agent Sullivan, in charge of the President’s protection detail. Is there a problem?”

Ana wheeled to face Sullivan. “You’re damned right there’s a problem. You were authorized to bring three prescreened agents with you: Davis, Hoffman, and Wesley. Is that agent one of those?”

Sullivan glanced at the agent indicated. “No, that’s Agent Anderson. Agent Wesley was hit by a car this afternoon. He is in the hospital. Agent Anderson is his replacement.”

“You were required to notify us of any changes to your roster and allow us the chance to conduct a personal interview beforehand, damn it!”

Agent Sullivan raised his eyebrows at Ana’s obvious fury. “My staff was supposed to inform your security of the change. I assumed the interview was a formality. I can assure you Agent Anderson is quite capable, with a distinguished service record.”

Ana rubbed her eyes in exasperation. “Command Access.”

“Online.” The voice came out of thin air.

“Connect me to security.”

“Channel open.”

“Security, were we notified of a change in the roster of the President’s security detail?”

“No, Ma’am. Why?”

Agent Sullivan shrugged. “There was probably a breakdown in communication somewhere. I will investigate tomorrow if you like.”

Ana snarled. “Agent Sullivan, you have no idea what you might have done.” She addressed the air. “Security, who is the strongest Air Sentinel in the building?”

“That would be Stanton, Ma’am, on Communications Monitor duty.”

“Tell him to drop whatever he’s doing and get down to the front lobby immediately.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

President Daniels walked forward to stand with Ana and Agent Sullivan. “Is there a problem, Agent Nizhoni?”

Ana sighed. “Yes, Mr. President, there is.” She waved her hand vaguely at Agent Anderson, who watched in confusion. “The personal interview is not a formality. It’s a vitally important security precaution.”

Agent Sullivan frowned. “For what purpose?”

Just then, a man wearing a regular Armistice Security uniform, the half circle on his breast surrounding a white sword, made his way to where Ana and the others were waiting. “Agent Stanton reporting, Ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“Agent, I need you to take a glance at the President’s security detail.”

Stanton raised an eyebrow. “Am I looking for anything in particular?”

“I have a strong suspicion, and I need you to disprove it.” Ana folded her arms. “But I don’t want to bias your examination.”

Stanton shrugged and looked Agent Sullivan over for a moment. Then he stepped past him to examine the three other Secret Service agents in turn. Pausing at Agent Anderson, he narrowed his eyes and peered closer. Then he sighed and walked back to where Ana was standing. “The last agent is a Sentinel—element Earth.”

Sullivan spun around in shock to stare at his agent, who took off his sunglasses and gaped at them. “What?”

Ana’s eyes were fixed on her own agent. “You said Sentinel, not latent. It’s too late, then?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Given the number of Nightwalkers currently in the building, I’ll bet his Gift kindled the minute he stepped through the front door. If I may ask, Ma’am, how the hell did this happen? I thought all visitors were screened for latency before being allowed inside.”