“Civil war,” Janx muttered. “Shit.”
Avery suddenly found it hard to catch his breath.
“Where are the Starfish?” Layanna said, and he admired her for keeping on task. His own thoughts had become disordered. “We had expected them to attack by now.”
“Everyone had. They’re all just off the coast, waiting,” Michael said. “Poised to strike every major capital on two continents.”
“Why don’t they?”
“We don’t know. Speculation is that the Collossum are holding them back. If Haggarty gives Ghenisa over to them, this Starfish will spare the country, and that will inspire a chain of similar conversions all down the coast, maybe trickle into the interior. It will be as if Octung had won the war after all.”
“We can’t allow that,” said Layanna, then frowned. “When you say Haggarty giving Ghenisa over to them, I assume you mean personally—as in offering it to the Collossum that apparently lives in the sewers?”
“That’s the common thinking among those that know about it, yes.”
“What about the team tasked with completing the extradimensional drill?” Avery said. “It was supposed to open a hole in the Starfish’s exoskeleton for Layanna to enter.”
“All imprisoned,” Michael said, “and the drill—in its early stages of completion, no less—destroyed.”
“Your side, does it still have any bombers?” Janx said. “Maybe the Army could bomb holes in it in place of the drill.”
“I’m afraid not. The Navy has complete charge of our air defenses now.”
“It was just a thought. Bombs didn’t do the Azadi much good.”
A sudden fear seized Avery. “What of the Voryses? The Drakes?”
Michael shot him a black look before turning back to the road. “Interesting you should ask that, Doctor. There have been rumors of them consolidating power, organizing for some sort of move while the country’s in turmoil. But without military power, and with the bureaucracy either scattered or under Haggarty’s control, they have no hope. We’re there.”
The jeep pulled up to a barricade blocking a certain street, and a rough-looking man with a rifle over his shoulder stepped forward and conferred with Michael for a moment. “All’s clear,” the man said, then, with a glance to Avery and the others: “This them?”
“It is,” Michael said. “Take care of them for me. Gwen thought they could be very important.”
“Wait,” Avery said. “You’re leaving?”
“I have other tasks needing my attention, I’m sorry.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
Michael gave him a strange look. “I was hoping you would know.”
Shaken, Avery disembarked with the others. The rough-looking man, who introduced himself as Myrtle Van, led them around the barricade, which was manned by an equally grim-looking lot, while Michael pulled away. For some reason Avery felt abandoned, even though Michael had likely just saved them from Haggarty’s agents.
Suddenly Layanna hissed in a breath. An expression of considerable pain had come over.
“What is it?”
Through gritted teeth, she said, “... the … ray ...”
Glancing up, he scanned for it, then saw the massive wedge shape sweeping through the skies overhead.
“Damned thing,” said Myrtle Van. “Haggarty’s been using it against us. The psychic aboard it can paralyze us with fear, and I mean drop us right to the ground. It disables us before Haggarty’s shock troops attack. Is your lady alright?”
To Layanna, Avery asked gently, “Are you?”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “I can fight him. The psychic. Hold him off, just like before. But only for a time. Last time I didn’t need to worry about keeping my location from him, only sealing off my mind. Soon, with the ray to amplify his abilities, he’ll sense me. He’ll know where we are. When he does ...”
Myrtle Van led them amongst the armed encampment, which occupied the buildings, streets and alleys of a former block of apartments and retail structures, cafes and restaurants, and Avery marveled at the everyday life of these rebels. A few Army officers led various projects, cleaning up debris, fortifying the barricade and so on, but mainly the civilians were on their own, with no visible order or governing body. Overhead flapped a long silken banner (riddled with bullet holes) with Prime Minister Denaris’s face staring out from it, bold chin aimed like the prow of a warship, eyes like searchlights. Below it the people ate dogs, hunter snails, anything they could catch, even poorly processed seafood. So many had become infected that an entire triage devoted to treating mutation had been set up; Avery promised himself to help later.
Van showed them to a bombed-out café front and through it to stairs that led up into several intact floors filled with shoddy apartments. He set them up in one already overcrowded with rebels and refugees, leaving them alone in a bedroom whose former occupants must have been hastily evicted—making the ugly looks a couple of the rebels had shot them more understandable. Had Michael ordered them to be given first-class service? If so, Avery felt ashamed for making others do without. They were given food—Avery didn’t ask what the meat was after making sure it didn’t come from the sea—and left alone, after one last message from Van:
“Mr. Denaris told me to make you comfortable and to give you whatever aid I could, including arms and men, to do whatever you needed to do, as long as it didn’t compromise our security. Just let me know what you need and I’ll get it done.”
“Well, this blows,” said Hildra after he had left, staring out the window and picking at her meal. It had begun to rain and a drypuss, a fur-covered octopus, was crawling up the opposite wall, hunching and bunching over the wet red brick, brown fur dripping. Avery wondered how long it would be before someone caught it for dinner. With a start, he wondered if he might have just eaten one. They were land creatures, after all.
“It’s a pretty sorry state,” Janx agreed.
“The good news is we have the nectar, or Layanna does,” Avery said. “But I confess I don’t see the way forward from here.”
By their swears and frowns he knew they didn’t either. From the floor below, someone began to sing, a woman. Another joined her, and another, and soon a swell of voices filled the air, both beautiful and terrible. It wasn’t a song of victory, or joy, but a song of mourning. Whoever the group was, they had just lost somebody. The woman that had started the song was likely a mother or lover.
For a time Avery’s party listened in silence to the dirge as rain beat against the windows, and it seemed to him as if he were in a black hole with no light able to reach him and no way out. He tried not to think of Ani but failed. She’s fine, he told himself. Idris and the other Voryses would be weathering this current conflict better than most, surely. Hell, if what Michael said was true, they were more than just all right; they were about to be on top, or make a play for the top position, anyway. Avery hoped, prayed they didn’t. If they failed and the fight turned against them, Ani would be in danger. Be safe, he thought, as he did many times every day, sending the thought out into the ether like a prayer. Be safe. Be well. I will see you soon.
With the rain to lull them, the group settled in to sleep. It had been a stressful day, and they needed rest. Despite himself, though, Avery couldn’t drift off. By the way Layanna tossed and turned on her side of the room, he doubted she could either, though both Janx and Hildra seemed to have let slumber take them. They were used to sleeping on the run, though. Avery supposed he should be too by now, but he knew he would never reach their level of casual adventurism. Nervously, afraid of his reception, Avery approached Layanna and plunked down beside her.
Her eyes had been closed, but she cracked them. “Yes?”
“I just—I wanted to talk—” He let out an exasperated breath. “I wanted to say this days ago, but there hasn’t been a chance.” You’ve been avoiding me, he didn’t add. “I wanted to say I was sorry. I really am.”
