Love and Darkness (The Cause Book 2) (34 page)

“What are you doing here, Focus?” Hank said.  Something about Lori’s appearance here, the method of it, triggered his formality.  Then he realized something else, and quailed.  “What are you doing here without your bodyguards!”

“Hank, the shit’s hit the fan.”

“I can’t talk about anything.”  Lori could use her charisma on him, and he would spill.  He would resist, but only in a cursory fashion.  He would hate himself afterwards for the betrayal, but he couldn’t resist Lori, who he still thought of as ‘his Focus’.  Something Carol knew.

“Don’t you say that to me.  I need someone real to talk to, Hank.”

“Talk to Sky.”

The Focus laughed.  “Inferno got to Sky first.”

Oh, crap.  “Inferno still thinks the Commander is the best thing since 2-ply toilet paper?”

The Focus nodded.  “Yes.  They’re attempting to figure out how to help her.”

Code.  The Focus spoke in code.  However, she shouldn’t be, which meant he was missing something important.

“Life been peaceful for you?” he said.

“Perfectly peaceful, perhaps even too peaceful,” Lori said.

Uh huh.  “Your mentor’s not causing problems for you, is she?”  Polly, Lori’s teacher.

“Yes, she is, the bitch.  She’s ordered me and Inferno to move to Chicago.  So I come to Chicago to scout out the territory, and what do I find in my PO Box here at Littleside?  A note from the Commander.  She anticipated Polly’s decision as well as my arrival, Hank, and has everything planned, even my living arrangements.  Worse, the Commander is also personally dodging me.  Wherever I go, she’s just left.  I’m feeling rather pawn-like, an unfamiliar feeling.”

Ah.  When Lori said things were too peaceful, that meant she couldn’t get hold of the Commander.  Focus politics running right into Keaton’s crisis and Carol’s deep games.  What was Polly up to?  What was Lori planning?  There had to be some way he could squeeze this out of Lori, at least indirectly.

Carol – no, the Commander – planned something appalling and devious.

“Your old UFA boss staying out of this?  I can’t imagine she’s going to be happy to lose so valued a member to the Midwest region.”  Lori’s old boss was the first Focus Suzie Schrum, and Lori had long ago sworn to kill her the next time she saw her.

“I haven’t told her yet, but I’m thinking she’ll see the light when I explain the necessity behind the move to her in person.”

Shit, no!  Not that option, Lori!  Suzie Schrum wouldn’t survive a visit from Lori, but Lori likely wouldn’t, either.

The Focus suppressed his questions, though.  Her charisma kept him from speaking further.  Today, he dealt with
Lady Death
.  He felt a headache starting to build.  “So, Focus, what do you want to talk about?”

“Back when Littleside opened and the New England Journal of Medicine booted my latest paper,” on her epidemiological hypothesis that broad spectrum antibiotics were behind the rise in auto-immune diseases due to the killing off of endemic human beneficial bacteria, “you mentioned that since my untenured career at Boston College was likely over, you might like to see me here working at Littleside.  Well, here I am, just as you wanted, because the bastards at Boston College fired me.  Chevalier’s harassment tarnished my record, and they wouldn’t let me take a leave of absence during their investigation.  When I insisted, they let me go.  I’m so annoyed I had to give the Eskimo Spear to Sky for safekeeping.  I can’t be around that thing when I get annoyed.”

Hank stopped his treadmill and looked at Lori.  This was horrible news, but not unexpected.  Lori’s excellent control didn’t reveal anything, but intellectually, Hank knew that the Focus must be devastated by this turn of events.  She had focused her entire life on her teaching and research career as a microbiologist.  Losing her Professorship would be enough to unhinge anyone.  To a Focus with the lives of her household on the line, ordered to move into the enemy camp,
devastated
didn’t come close to Lori’s hidden true reaction.

He suspected she was no longer sane, fallen completely into Lady Death.

“You want to go somewhere private and talk about things?  Get a late dinner or something?”

“What a wonderful idea, Hank.  I think there’s a lot to talk about.”

Hank nodded.  A private mind scrape by Lady Death.  About to jump the opposite direction her household wanted her to jump, if he guessed correctly.

He anticipated the evening would be painful.

Now The Gang’s All Here

“In a time of drastic change, it is the learners who inherit the future. The learned usually find themselves equipped to live in a world that no longer exists.” – Eric Hoffer

Gail Rickenbach: November 5, 1972 – November 8, 1972

“Ma’am,” the young woman said, “the Boss gave me some information about what kind of facilities you require, and I took the liberty of doing some initial research.”

The young southern Chinese woman went by the name of Ying.  Gail thought her poised, reserved, and efficient, one of the more interesting members of Carol’s organization of interesting people.

“What kind of facilities did the ‘Boss’ say I’d require?” Gail said.  They sat at a table at an excellent Chinese restaurant in Chicago, and Kurt, John, and Sylvie accompanied her.

Ying pushed aside a cup of tea and took several papers from her binder.  “She said that you would need facilities to house two to three hundred people and suggested a hotel might be best.  I found several possibilities that you might want to consider.”

“Two to three
hundred
?  I don’t even have seventy people in my household.”

“You will need to ask her about that, ma’am,” Ying said.

“I can’t afford space to house that many people.”  She wondered where the hell Carol came up with such a ludicrous number, and wished Carol would tell her what she was up to, instead of sticking her with surprises like this.

“The Boss is expecting to cover the costs,” Ying said.

Gail sighed and rubbed her forehead.  “All right.  Show me the possibilities.”

“This one is a hotel built eight years ago, based on expectations of greater growth of office space in this area than actually occurred,” Ying said as Kurt pulled the car to a stop in front of the Branton.  “Ownership changed twice since the hotel was originally built, and the current owners are looking to unload.  Eight stories.  Ground floor has reception, offices, cocktail lounge, and a full service restaurant.  Second floor has meeting rooms.  Third through eighth floor are sleeping rooms, for a total of 126, of which six are suites.  Laundry facilities in the basement, parking below ground, and a small swimming pool on the second floor.”

“A swimming pool,” Gail said, awe creeping into her voice.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And the Boss is willing to pay for me to live here?”  Gail looked out the car window at the huge building towering over them.  A full-sized hotel!

“Yes, ma’am.  The financial arrangements will be complex and are likely to take several weeks, but our people are capable of handling that sort of thing.  We might be able to negotiate for early occupancy.  We will, of course, cover the interim costs as well.”

Ying smiled, a formal, professional smile.  “I suspect we will have better success in those negotiations if you’re willing to use some of your Focus capabilities to influence the current owners.”

“Ah, yes,” Gail said.  She caught an amused calculating glance from Ying that reminded her of Sylvie, and she smiled, taking a mental note to make time to get to know Ying better.  Gail looked up at the hotel again as the doorman ran to open her door and shook her head.  She just couldn’t imagine.

---

“Gail, where do you want the desk?” Daisy asked.

“Not here,” Gail said.  “The desk goes back downstairs to my office, behind reception.  Living room and bedroom furniture only up here.”

“Shit.”  John and Daisy put the desk down and wiped sweat from their faces.

“Not your fault.  Gretchen shouldn’t have sent you up here with that.”

John shook his head.  “She didn’t.  There was some kind of crisis in the kitchen and she was busy, so we just headed on up.”

“Well, you get to head back down.  Anyone see Gilgamesh?”

“Not me,” John said.  Daisy shook her head.  Gail winced.  Nobody had seen him in the last two days.  No word, no nothing.  He was just gone.  She was terrified something had happened to him.  She had tried to contact Carol, but she remained out of touch.  Gail had gotten through to Ying and Tom Delacort, but they didn’t consider Gilgamesh’s disappearance a problem, and refused to disturb Carol.

“He can take care of himself,” Tom had said.

Gail clenched her jaw and promised herself that if Gilgamesh disappeared on his own, and hadn’t bothered to tell her, she would have his guts for suspenders for scaring her like this.

“You setting up his room anyway?” Gail said.  “He’s not going to feel safe unless he has his maze.”

John nodded.  “Yup.  He’s got the suite just below yours.”  Gail’s was on the fourth floor, as close to the center of the hotel as they could manage.  Gilgamesh was on the third.  Kurt and Sylvie were in the fifth floor suite, Gretchen was on six, the Grimms were on seven, and she was holding the one on eight vacant.

So much space.  Unbelievable.  Every couple had a private room, as did every unmarried adult, and the kids were only stuffed two to a room.  Even after spreading out they had rooms left over.  There was room for everything.  Office space, a library, several parlors.  The ballroom on the second floor was big enough to hold the entire household in a meeting with room left over.  They were even turning one of the meeting rooms into a small gym.

She got sick when she considered the price, though.  Carol was funding this now, but how long would her funding last?  Her household could never afford the Branton’s monthly mortgage.  They had been living well beyond their means before they left Detroit, after her people got outed.  Now here in Chicago, with the entire household unemployed, they couldn’t afford a one-room shack, much less a paradise like this.

If Carol stopped supporting them, they were doomed.  Gail made sure her leadership team recognized this, and a few of her people were out job-hunting already.  The rest would start job-hunting tomorrow.  They would need to restart their household businesses, such as Trisha’s beauty parlor, with no client base and no loyal customers.  Gail was going to be busy doing the necessary Focus arm-twisting.  She and her leadership team would start hunting down prospective fallback housing options tomorrow, as well.

Gail had just finished talking to Carol’s people, getting Beth Hargrove’s gypsy troop situated in the vacant lot next to Littleside.  Carol owned the lot for future expansion.  Littleside was as good a place as any for Beth’s train of beat-up RVs, campers and trailers.  Gail wasn’t exactly sure what Beth’s household would be doing about money, but she suspected it involved moonshine…

“Too much worry,” Daisy said, sticking her head back in Gail’s living room.  “Did you hear anything back from this researcher contact?”

Gail nodded.  Van had snagged Daisy the same way Gail snagged Beth; after the dead Crow episode Daisy didn’t take much convincing.  Apparently, Daisy’s continued work at U of M was unofficially contingent on her being able to cough up Gail for their research, something Daisy hadn’t been happy to learn, and she had been worried sick Gail would disown her when she found out.  “I’m going to take you over there tomorrow.  He’s as flat out brilliant as you are, so no bullshitting.  Apparently, he’s looking for someone with a Transform biomechanics background, so I would expect questions in that area.”

“No bullshit.”  Daisy gave Gail a mock salute.

“I got suborned so easily,” Gail said to Van, her voice low.  He slipped his hands around her waist, and she settled back into his arms.  “A little money, a little security...”

“Suborned to what?”  Van shrugged.  “What other choices could you have made?  Wini Adkins and the first Focuses?  Despite Adkins’ faults she’s the
sanest
of the breakout leaders.  You don’t want to think about the really warped cases, like Schrum or Fingleman.”  He had been to visit both, and both times Gail had needed to use her charisma to put him back together again.  “There aren’t a lot of good guys to choose from.  You acted in the best interest of the household and preserved a little hope besides.  Don’t kick yourself.”

“You think so?”

Van didn’t answer, but only kissed her on the top of the head.

“I love you,” Gail said.

“Try and remember that when the inevitable occurs and you’re one of the hard case badass Focuses who run things,” Van said.

Gail snorted.  “Well, then, you’re going to need to be the hard case badass spouse.  You’re making progress, you and your dark suits, and you’ve nearly perfected the Schuber glare and the…”

“Gail!”  Gretchen came running through the door of Gail’s suite, out of breath and sweating.

Gail turned away from Van, and sighed for the lost moment of peace.  “What is it?”

“I just got a call from one of Focus Rizzari’s people.  Their entire household, including eight moving vans, is on the road, and the woman wanted directions to our household.  She thinks they’re moving in with us.”

Gail blinked.

Lori Rizzari and Inferno.  Moving in.

She had wondered why Carol thought they needed so much space.  Now she understood.

Gilgamesh: November 7, 1972

“Truthfully, I’m visiting because Gail’s household is moving from Detroit to Chicago, and they’re all barking at each other,” Gilgamesh said.

“Awwh, I just think you miss us,” Warden Jane said.  She led Gilgamesh toward the dilapidated and termite-infested farmhouse Sinclair’s Barony now called home.

“How big is this place, anyway?” Gilgamesh asked, as he walked up the creaking porch steps to the door.  The ambience was homey and familiar; he guessed he was still a part of the Barony.

Warden Jane opened the door and let him in.  “We’ve got 23 acres of mostly up and down, and we picked it up for a song,” she said.  Looking at the farmhouse, Gilgamesh understood why.  “Hey, guys, guess who just showed up!”

Sinclair bounded down the stairs and over to Gilgamesh and gave him a hug and a clap on the back.  “Welcome to the new Blue Ridge Barony,” Sinclair said.  “The Nobles are out, well, doing
something
.  Running, I guess.  How’d you find us?”

Gilgamesh shrugged.  “This is where you are.  I just knew.  Why here?”

“The Nobles wanted out of Long Island and closer to the front lines,” Sinclair said.  “I would offer you a seat, but as you can tell…”

The farmhouse contained only one piece of furniture and it sat in the big farmhouse kitchen, a table missing half a leg and propped up by a log.  Standard Crow junkyard ambience.  “This is Tortoise.  He’s our new trainee Crow Master.”

Tortoise stuck his head around the corner at the top of the stairway and crept on down, slowly, followed by two of the commoner women, Anne and Callie.  The stairway creaked and tilted to the right under their weight as the three of them came down the stairs.  “Glad to meet you, Guru Gilgamesh,” Tortoise said.  He was a short bald man with owlish eyes and a stocky build.  Two foxes followed the Crow down the stairs, as tame as pet dogs.

Gilgamesh smiled and waved at the new Crow, someone he had never met before.  Clearly a beast-master.

“You’re feeling nervy, Sinclair, living in this property.  I can metasense the ruins of the CDC’s former Transform Research Center from here.”  The property overlooked the Chester Gap, at the edge of the Shenandoah National Park.  The CDC’s now abandoned property sat six miles away, to the southeast.  The former research center still held pockets of years old dross in the shaded areas, hardened into near inertness, a variety Gilgamesh rarely encountered.

“Perhaps you can,” Sinclair said.  “Not me.  Too far away.”  He sighed.  “Ma Bell’s promising they’ll hook up our phone line next week, and we’ll finally be back in contact with the rest of the world.  We got the electricity turned on last week.”

Gilgamesh nodded and smiled.  The kitchen appliances consisted of hotplates and a toaster.  No running water; that came from a hand-pumped well fifty feet to the west of the farmhouse.  The outhouse was thirty feet to the east.  He sniffed and smelled coffee and newly cut wood.  “You’re working on insulating the upstairs?”

“Uh huh.  I don’t mind roughing it for a while, but I would rather have real walls between me and winter.”  Sinclair found a wall in the living room and slid down it to sit on the floor.  Gilgamesh planted himself nearby, Warden Jane hovering as usual too close to him.  “So, any idea what’s going on between the Arms and the Focuses?”

“Some,” Gilgamesh said.

“Did Tiamat talk to you about what’s going on?”

“She’s said a few things.  I would be betraying her confidence if I said too much.”

“Excellent,” Sinclair said, and smiled.

“Sinclair?” Gilgamesh said.  He frowned.  “You’re getting involved in politics again, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.  Likely even more politics when the phone’s in.”  Beat.  “So if Tiamat’s keeping secrets, then she must have secrets worth keeping.  From Kali?”  Kali, the old Crow nickname for Stacy Keaton.  The name fit more than usual these days.

“Sinclair, I can’t talk about this.”

“All right, then tell me this.  Is Tiamat going to break with Kali?”

“No.”

Sinclair paused and studied the ceiling.  “That’s unfortunate,” he said.  “Going after the first Focuses is fine, but Shadow is convinced Kali won’t stop there, and we would all hate to see Kali try to claim any sort of authority over the Crows.  If my understanding of Tiamat’s personality is correct, I can’t believe she’s happy with the direction Kali is going.”