The Forgotten City (19 page)

Diamond just grinned wider. “I’m very fast,” she told him. “What’s this – what are you doing?” She pushed in beside him. Nelly looked up from her bowl of fish treats in her enclosure and snapped at Mr Nimbles, who was glaring at her.

Eli stammered, still trying to figure out how she’d gotten past his security, “I’m … I’m trying to clear this footage. I have to see who attacked us at Sirenseron.”

“Okay …” Diamond said. “Allow me.”

She stepped in front of him and took over the hologram keypad, typing so rapidly even Eli had trouble keeping up with what she was doing. The images shuttered and cleared – the pillars of fire becoming people and those people men with the firebird dragon bloodlines mark. Eli gasped, shocked Diamond had found the solution so fast and even more shocked at what he was now seeing. “They’re Omarians,” he murmured. “I don’t understand.” He’d noticed in the past that Silho’s outline in record footage was always slightly blurred, but he’d never connected it to her half-Omarian blood. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“That’s a portal,” Diamond said beside him, as they watched Silho and the others being dragged into the painting.

“I know – but how do you know?” Eli asked her.

“A lot of research and reading. That’s what happens when everyone thinks you’re too weird to play with, isn’t that right, Mr Nimbles.” She scratched her minx on the head and he purred. Eli felt her words cut deep into him. He stifled the urge to tell her he didn’t think she was weird, in case it incited another bout of hugging and kissing.

“Most portals can only be used once and then they’re blown. Some, very few, can tolerate more use,” she said, pointing out the footage of the exploded painting on the Hero’s Walk wall.

“Then we’ll have to find a new portal,” Eli said. “Any ideas?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. Eli’s thoughts jumped back to the blackbird book. He ran over to the craft and retrieved it, starting to flick through the pages as he ran back. He knew the
Portal
page was missing, but maybe it would have something on Omarians. He found the word in the contents and opened up the book in front of them, but the Omarian section was ripped out as well. He cursed, and his thoughts leaped again to Englan Chrisholm – he had painted hundreds, even thousands of pieces, potentially all portals. At the time, the news had claimed all his works were burned when he was arrested, but surely some had survived?

Eli accessed his main computer system to search for anything on Chrisholm that might give them some clues and he saw a message pending. He opened it and read a brief note from Santana –
all today, all homicide–suicide.
Holograms flashed up in the air before him – scenes of death with one connecting factor – in every picture an X, or many, had been scratched or drawn into the walls or floor, or into the victims themselves. Silho’s words in the craft came back to him –
It’s never a good sign when the people with the strongest intuition of the future start killing themselves.
“They’re all seers,” he murmured to himself.

“What are they seeing?” Diamond questioned beside him.

The Xs in the picture seemed to jump out at him and Eli’s skin chilled. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that all this might be connected to the witch Darmel’s prediction. He remembered it exactly:
The end of days is near. An ever-living enemy is rising. You must spread a warning. You must prepare a means of travel and escape this land. There is no hope of survival.

The situation suddenly jumped from possibly containable to apocalyptic and Eli felt like throwing up. He grabbed the black book again and searched for
Indemeus X
. He found a page number and flicked forward with trepidation – yes – it was missing too. He slammed the book shut. Someone had anticipated this situation and stolen the pages. But who? Eli’s investigative brain kicked into autopilot over his swelling panic and he spoke to his front-core system: “Fingerprint scanner.”

He scanned his eyes over the pages beside those that were ripped out and the system picked up on a distinct matching set in each missing section.

“Run a search,” he ordered his system and it flicked through several million images in a microsecond before settling on one name.

“Ezra Quartermaine,” he said to Diamond.

A profile picture loaded up. A man with out-of-control, frizzy gray hair and dead-cold eyes. Instantly Eli felt a stirring of disquiet.

He ran another search for information on Quartermaine, but it came back with absolutely nothing, as though all his traces had been scrubbed clean.

“Nothing,” Eli reported, seeing a dead-end looming up ahead.

“I disagree,” Diamond said, as she pickpocketed him compulsively. “You can create a touch map with his prints.” Eli glanced at her. He’d never heard of a touch map.

“Here.” She took over again and typed in a set of codes around the fingerprint. “The fingerprint recognition FR10 system was installed city-wide to grant access and verify ID, yes, but it also has a surprising side-effect …”

She made a last entry and stepped back as a city grid map opened up with hotspots popping up across it, indicating where this Ezra Quartermaine had left more of the same prints. There was a massive concentration around a spot in Duskmaveth-Aendor, a spectral-breed neighborhood on Level 497 Zilah. It wasn’t as far down as Moris-Isles, but far enough to be a no-go zone for most people, including Eli. Spectral-Breeds were secretive and unpredictable at best, with sub-species such as Midnight Men, Deaths and Specters positively fatal. Just one touch of a Specter could freeze a person to instant death. What was this Ezra Quartermaine doing down there with the pages from Bellbeater’s book? Who was he? How much did he know? And whose side was he on? “You’re brilliant,” Eli said to Diamond. He’d never even thought of creating a touch map, and he’d designed the whole FR10.

She grinned and started jumping up and down while Eli transferred all the information to his front-core implant and his external portable system as back up.

“I have to go to Duskmaveth and speak with this Quartermaine. We’re in the dark. We need to understand what’s happening here. I also need to get an antidote for the poison in Jude’s system and find a way to access a portal,” Eli said. “He seems like our best – well, our only – lead.” “I’ll help!” Diamond volunteered immediately.

“No, it’s too dangerous. You’re definitely not coming.”

Before she could argue, he turned back to the attack footage, which was paused beside them. Behind the foreground scene, Eli caught sight of Smudge’s beautiful face. He sensed Diamond watching him looking at Smudge and he glanced at the little imp-breed girl. He knew that expression – he had felt the way she was looking many times before – and had never wanted to inflict that on anyone else. He shook his head. He could not be dealing with this right now. “We’re taking you back to Ufftown and this time you have to stay there. Seriously,” he told her.

“But I want to stay with you.” She gazed at him with ever-hopefulness. “I know I’m not
normal
, but I can help.”

“I know you can,” Eli said. “But you could also get killed. I can’t watch you as well as watch me. I’m not
normal
either and it’s all I can do just to keep myself together. Don’t feel bad – I’ve had a lot of therapy to get where I am.”

“Me too,” she said “We’re the same.” She pulled up her sleeve and showed him the scars on her arms from the blood-transfusion therapy she’d endured. He flinched in horror. His grandparents hadn’t even entertained the thought of putting him through blood therapy – it was so brutal and cruel. Diamond started singing and hopping around and all he could think of was what she must have already suffered and of where he would be if the commander hadn’t befriended him, encouraged him, helped him through everything. “Okay – you can stay, but you have to do what I say.” he told her.

The realization dawned over her face. He started talking, trying to contain the blowout, but then she was leaping at him, kissing him and squealing, “I love you, I love you!”

“Master Eli!” Flintlock called urgently behind them and Eli turned.

Ismail’s eyes were opening. Eli’s stomach did a backflip that felt like it landed wrong. He gestured to Diamond to calm down, then made a careful path over to the scullion, keeping his hand on the sedative in his belt. Flintlock started to draw her electrifier, but Eli shook his head. The first objective with Ismail was to separate them from his tormentor, and start building trust. Eli stopped beside the bench and Ismail turned his head weakly, staring at him, realization filtering in moment by moment. Eli saw sharp ridges press up on Ismail’s cheeks as he clenched his jaw, and his eyes took on a bestial edge, dark with warning. Eli felt like he needed to speak – fast.

He cleared his throat and managed, “Ismail, my name isn’t – I mean – it is Eli, and this is Flintlock and Diamond. You’ve been the captive of a dark witch for a long time, but you’re safe now. You’re free. You’re not a prisoner here – we’re just trying to help you.”

A growl rumbled in Ismail’s throat and his nose wrinkled up savagely, but behind the aggression, Eli saw terror. Diamond burst into frightened song and Eli slapped a hand over her mouth. Quickly changing his approach, he said in his most formal military voice, “Soldier. Specialist Investigator First Class Eli Anklebiter standing and present.”

Ismail’s expression immediately changed. The hostile lines smoothed out and the red glow behind his dark eyes dulled down. Gripping the sides of the bench, Ismail hauled himself into a sitting position and Eli stepped back a few paces. Flintlock’s hand hovered over her weapon.

“Ex-Commander Ismail Ohavor.” Ismail spoke in a deep, gruff voice and Eli felt a wash of relief sweep over him. They had communication.

Ismail looked down at the He-Ro embedded in his chest. He touched a hand to it and Eli spoke fast, afraid he’d rip it out.

“Soldier, I recommend you leave that in. You’ve suffered high-degree trauma to your heart. It’s currently non-functional.”

Ismail lowered his hand away from the He-Ro and looked back up at Eli, his face a controlled military mask. Then something beyond Eli caught his attention. The scullion froze. Eli turned to see what he was looking at – and saw the attack footage paused on an image of Silho, the Omarian’s arm around her neck. Ismail slid naked off the bench. He staggered, then righted himself, ripping out his drips and moving unsteadily toward the hologram. He stopped in front of Silho and stood there transfixed. Eli felt a jolt of memory. Ev’r had written in her journal about her and Ismail meeting Silho and her carer Hammersmith in the desert, how the big scullion man had formed an instant friendship with Silho. Ev’r had said it had felt as though they were having deep conversations without saying a word, and if Silho was older Ev’r might have been jealous.

Eli carefully approached Ismail, unsure what the scullion’s next reaction would be. He gestured for Flintlock and Diamond to stay behind him. Diamond was holding her own mouth closed, muted sounds coming from behind her hand.

After some time of silence, Ismail shook his head as though waking from deep thought and looked over his shoulder. His face was still inscrutable – in soldier mode – but then he spotted Ev’r’s bag sitting beside Eli’s main workspace, where he’d placed it when they’d first arrived back. The scullion’s reaction was immediate and violent. Emotion rushed into his eyes and he inhaled sharply. He went for the bag and snatched it up, holding it to himself desperately close.

“Zara,” he uttered and tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his face, lined with pain and heartbreak. Eli swallowed around the growing lump in his throat.

“Ismail,” he said, forgetting himself for a moment and moving toward the crying man.

Ismail’s eyes locked onto him and he felt an itch inside his skull that he recognized from past experiences as a telepath trying to access his mind. He instantly raised the psychological blocks that he’d learned back in United Regiment basic training. It kept most telepaths out, but the itch cut immediately into a deep ache as Ismail tore through his defenses and into his thoughts and memories. The room changed around him, the walls and space vanished into a rush of darkness and lights, sounds and flashes of images from his past – all dragged forward toward Ismail, who stood before him, radiating. He didn’t siphon just one thought or memory, as was common telepathic strength, he took them all – by far the most powerful telepath that Eli had ever encountered.

Seconds later Ismail released him and Eli fell backward onto the ground. Flintlock stood over him with her electrifier pointed at Ismail.

“Flintlock, no!” Eli said as the Corámorán’s finger tensed on the trigger. “Stand down!”

He’d always wanted to say that and it made Flintlock drop her aim. Diamond was bouncing around, uncontrollably shrieking. Eli sat up and spoke quickly to Ismail who was staring at them overwhelmed and trembling with shock.

“Ismail – I know you just saw into my mind – so you must already know this. We have every – I mean – no intention at all of harming you. We’re trying to help. I’m a friend of Ev’r’s – Zingara’s – you saw …”

“Ravien?” Ismail whispered, the lines in his forehead deepening. He searched Eli’s eyes for answers and Eli said, “Yes – but – I’m going to find a cure and bring her back. It’s only a matter of time.” Despite his own doubts he made the words sound completely certain. He stood carefully and pressed a button on his holographic keypad, bringing up his file on the Ravien antidote.

“See,” he said to Ismail. “There’s a cure to be found – and I will find it. There’s still hope.”

Ismail’s bloodshot eyes moved over the figures and equations and Eli wasn’t sure how much he was understanding of it, but by his expression, Eli guessed at least enough to see how advanced they were. And as Ismail read, Eli saw a shift in his expression. All the emotion drained away until his face was once again a military mask.

“Specialist Investigator Anklebiter, what is the procedure for procuring the cure?” Ismail asked, and his voice was flat, almost robotic.

Eli felt a shiver in his spine – the emotion had become too much for the scullion and he had quite literally switched himself off. It was quite disturbing to witness.