System Seven (54 page)

The captain called
down to announce the lights of Mykonos.

The rest of the
morning proved to be an exercise in rote. Her guards cleared the house and set
the heat. A hot shower returned color to her face, now that of Despina Chara,
former chief financial officer for Xene Global Shipping. Elias showed up at ten
with groceries and started lunch.

By noon the circle of
Bastion’s riders had gone, leaving her own as sole guardians. Anti-climactic in
one sense, the situation remained fluid. Bastion’s unpredictability would no
doubt be a factor in the plan. She had to be ready for it and so did the
druids.

While eating she
reviewed her encounter with Bastion. Had she successfully landed her lusty
innuendo? Or had she misread him? Possible but unlikely. She’d used the most
natural tact: to please him in exchange for continued status, an act of both
desperation and submission. His references to replacing her had become more
frequent and stinging of late, in exact response to her criticism of his plans.
Status had not officially degraded but it seemed a matter of time, especially
with Ganzai steering him. Pretense of a sexual remedy still made the most
sense.

The evening’s Council
meeting would offer the opportunity to gauge him. If need be, the post-meeting
lull would see a formal proposal for a nostalgic romp in the flesh. She
minimally dispatched a message to Samantha, careful to preserve discretion. The
priests had to be kept informed. Everything rode on their successful engagement
of Bastion.

Lily pad is the likely
place

The frog will chase

The evening’s dream

Will enhance the
scheme

The faithful will keep
abreast

Via the lady’s digest

The salad was fresh,
the dressing Elias’ own brand of magic. By the time she went on to the grilled
lamb she knew the message had been posted.

“This is simply yummy,
Elias. You are a culinary magician.”

The middle-aged man
Friday flushed with charming modesty.

“You are too kind, Ms.
Chara.”

• • •

The muted din of pigs
and chickens. A small window high in the dirt wall. Several straw beds on the
floor. Morning air thick with incense, a ward against evil spirits but more
practically against the aroma of a densely populated clan fortress. Maria’s
heart shuddered in recognition. Fujian, late eighteen-fifties. Summertime in
Bastion’s favorite part of China during the bloody clan wars of the last
dynasty. She hated the memories, hated his perfect recollection, and hated
returning.

He knew this.

She took stock of her
avatar. A young Asian woman’s body, of family and not a servant judging by her
clothing. She descended the steep stairs into the second floor living area and
found it empty. Further down, to the ground floor kitchen with its brick stove
and built-in tile cupboard. Firewood lay stacked to the side. This was one of
Bastion’s masterpieces, the detail so sensory as to make one believe it real.
Despite the depth and complexity, an exit still felt readily available.

Outside, chickens
pecked the narrow strip of earth that followed the bend of the fortress’
circular construction. The central buildings of the courtyard rose on expertly
cut granite. Everything except the perimeter rooftops lay in morning shade.

She followed a stone
lane inward towards the temple where the meeting would take place. Lacking were
the hundreds of people that would live here; far too much overhead for the
purpose of a council meeting. Most of it was overdone already and that was
concerning. The extra effort hinted at a special occasion.

She found the doors to
the temple closed so she pushed on them.

Beyond them a
gathering of Asians knelt before a raised platform with an altar. Candles
flickered and incense wafted. She counted eleven of them with their backs to
her.

All of them early? Her
guard rose. They continued their stance, unmoving and unreadable. She felt
obligated to kneel as well – absurd, but there it was. It was his game and she
didn’t want to stand out.

She took up position
and knelt, wondering why Bastion would not be prominent as usual. The answer
came when a Chinese warlord appeared behind the altar. It was Bastion, sporting
Manchu facial hair and makeup.

I am the thirteenth.

Immediately she
checked the exit and found it barred. She closed her eyes. A group effort,
then.

Calm
. Fiercely calm. Head down, secretly feeling for the gap.

“Maria de Oro,
Sequence Three of Grecian Royalty. Stand!”

She raised her head to
meet his gaze. He had known. Or had found out, maybe thanks to the druids. In
any case, it had come to this. She was too powerful with too many secrets.
Bastion would send her on.

When she stood, the
others also stood and fanned out in a half moon to face her, their faces now
their own. New to the group was burly Gerold Severin, the G1 administrator for
Europe. He stared back without expression.

Bastion came around
the alter.

“For almost two
centuries you and I made good on this planet, Maria. Fifty years we spent in
love. Always, we worked together. I supported your formal rise to Council,
though you had been my thirteenth for years. And despite your weakening resolve
to preserve our plans, I trusted you. I respected your differing opinions. I
often followed your advice though I sometimes felt it contrary to our advancement.”

He stepped off the
platform and stood in front of her. “And this is how you reward me. Your desire
for power is almost cliché.”

“You’re becoming ill,
Bastion. You will destroy the only world we have.”

“No.” He shook his
head. “No, Maria, I am not ill and I will not destroy the world. However, I cannot
say the same about your world.” He began to pace. “There is a beautiful young
woman by the name of Ina Chen living in the Pearl River Delta region of
southeastern China. She’s just been taken hostage by a crime lord. Her mind is
sharp and she is already plotting escape. Unfortunately, the crime lord is
going to gouge her eyes out and make her his sex slave.”

“You will have a hard
time keeping me in that mesh. I hope you’re all prepared for the fight.”

Bastion walked the
length of the gathered council. “My friends, your efforts to handle Maria will
not be required, just as they are not right now. She will be placed in Ina
Chen’s body and held there. Volgograd rangers will oversee her punishment, a
painful, purely physical existence before being killed.” He looked at Maria,
measuring reaction. “I’ve arranged for you to be collected by Eden,
eventually.” His expression changed to reflect something like sincere regret
had it not been so perverted by the pallor of revenge. “I wish you had been
truthful with me, I really do. We would have talked it through.”

The floor of reality
shimmered, threading fear into Maria’s core. A horrible mind group approached,
quick and sickening, full of evil and nail-strong intent. They were rangers but
empowered in a strange way. Combined, they were more powerful.
Which team had he sent for her?

She addressed the
council. “This can happen to you. Volgograd’s research will be your undoing.
You’ll regret this. You all will.”

The last she heard was
Bastion saying, “Somehow I doubt–” before the rangers stole her every thought
and replaced them with their own.

• • •

Atop the roof of a
bank outside of Rome, two square panels on pan-tilt mounts carried data traffic
between identical panels miles away at the apartment and at the farm where the
bràthair worked from. The pan mounts were radio controlled, ready to be
repositioned to scramble the telltale line of sight configurations.

From the farm,
shùil-equipped druids acted as bràthair and monitored Maria’s Greek estate as
well as Samantha Sigler’s blog. Via the temporary wifi network, they passed
imagery to those in the apartment. Sean ate breakfast and watched a laptop’s
screen. He watched as Maria swam morning laps in the pool.

Johan’s voice sounded
from the bedrooms. He was rousing Cathbad to join him. They came down the hall
together.

“Something’s happened
to her,” Johan said.

“Who?”

“Maria. I woke and
felt it.” He started to pace. “She’s trapped.”

Sean looked at the
screen. “That’s not Maria?”

“Can’t be. Not
anymore.”

Sean ordered the farm
evacuated and the bank’s wifi panels repositioned. He turned to Johan.

“Failure is not an
option. She’s an incredible asset. We need to know for sure.”

Johan parted the
blinds and peered across the street at a villa with pale green walls and a
terra cotta roof. From a second story balcony a woman shook a carpet clean with
her face turned away from the dust. She finished, her expression one of
self-contained, casual contentment; he remembered the feeling. Beyond the
villa, olive trees ran in rows, dormant for the winter. It was the normal world,
yet he felt like a visitor now.

He let the blinds snap
closed. “I’ll look for her. There’s no other way.”

“Clare will help in
this,” Cathbad said. “She has the strongest and most recent impressions of
Maria. She will know how to find her.”

• • •

Two miles from Vatican
City, Anki took in the hotel auditorium from the back row and sighed.
Attendance to the sold-out investor exposition had been crippled by the world
crisis. It was difficult sitting there listening to talk of investment devices,
especially in a business suit. She hadn’t worn a skirt and heels since just
after college.

Several seats over on
her right, a German broker kept peripheral watch, wild with hopes for a chance
at banging her. To her left and a row forward, a prim female independent
investor from Copenhagen absorbed the session’s presentation with impressive
focus.

For Anki, the panel of
speakers could not have been more dry and tedious. No spontaneity. No sense of
the small gathering’s mood. They worked through a PowerPoint slideshow with
information that a week ago may have meant something. The chaos of the global
markets had stolen their thunder and spirit. Only the host had any spark and
that he tempered so as not to appear ridiculous compared to his panel.

One of the slides for
a resort property showed a poolside sunbather in a bikini. That intensified the
German broker’s vibe, earning her a full-on glance. Ignoring him only twisted
his spiraling obsession. She considered moving forward a few rows when her cell
phone vibrated.

“Ms. Renate, I’m sorry
but you are needed at the office. A driver is waiting at the taxi queue.”

She eyed the hormonal
broker. He looked over instantly, keyed to the slightest brush of meta.

“Thank you. I’ll be
right out.”

• • •

Clare shook her head at
the recording of Maria swimming.

“Obviously a cover.
This one knows she’s supposed to be someone important and is enjoying the
role.”

“Because she’s really
not.”

“Yes. She’s good for
show, but that isn’t Maria.”

Clare faded quickly,
leaving her daughter at the forefront as a courtesy. Anki had grown more
comfortable with the duality and letting her mother surface. The wine helped.

Johan sighed. “So
she’s lost then. Bastion must have her.”

“It would seem so,”
Cathbad said.

“Damn it. What now?”

Cathbad looked at the
pair. “Anki, your mother spent time engaged with Maria. Join with Johan and go
deep within her, see what you can find of Maria’s essence. Then use it to find
her. We have to know if she can be grabbed.”

Anki plopped on the
bed and scooted to make room for Johan.

He sat on the edge and
studied her. “You’re nervous.”

“Yeah, well I’ve never
done this.”

“We just have to find
more about Marie. A little survey, is all.”

He laid down beside
her. Eventually their calm breathing filled the room. A car passed by. Voices
from outside the pub next door carried over. He wouldn’t start until she was
ready.

“Do you think we’ll
have to face Bastion?”

He shrugged. “If we
do, then it will be the time for it. First we have to get a good feeling for
Maria.”

She slid her hand into
his. “I love you, Johan.” Saying it aloud was a validation, confirming all
they’d felt together and while apart.

He faced her. “I know.
And you know I love you, Anki.”

“I do.” She stayed in
the cradle of his eyes, not wanting to leave. “We should start.”

“I know.” He smiled.
“But you aren’t ready yet.”

With that, she was.

Familiar. Warm.
Integrated. Intimate.

Johan and Anki
lingered in the bliss of the joined space, their first time so perfectly and
lucidly connected. All comfort and ease, he molded with her as if he’d been
there all along. Thoughts entwined and mixed, shaping a shared perspective from
their duality.