Selling Out (47 page)

“No,” she said reflexively although she privately liked the idea. “What are you all . . . doing here?”

“While you were gone Max found you and thought you were dead so she called the agency and they came along but Teazle, Okie, Rusty, and Buster kept doing a good job of maiming anyone who came near the house until I came to talk them out of it,” Zal explained patiently. “After that we were all under arrest and agreed to accompany you here to the medical facility. Well, they didn’t want us to, but we insisted, didn’t we, Mal?”

“A lot of people insisted,” said another familiar voice from a different side of the room. Lila grudgingly and with difficulty pushed herself up a little so she could look around. Sarasilien was there, sitting back with an expression of mild amusement on his face. Dr. Williams was beside him, a world-weary kind of smile attached to her as though she had stuck it there for a party. Several technicians were loitering next to her, including the one who had recovered his instrument from her blanket. The dogs were lying around underneath their seats, bored to sleep.

“We’re difficult to resist, when we insist,” said Zal, pulling her back against his body and holding her close in his arms, his face next to hers. His
andalune
body wove around her like smoke. She could feel a grim determination in him that was completely at odds with his facile surface.

“If all the reserves weren’t out dealing with this crisis I can assure you resistance would have been highly effective.” Cara Delaware stepped forwards, her face as icy as her tone of voice. She held herself upright as though she was starched, though her face was almost grey underneath her makeup and her eyes were rimmed with the red of exhaustion.

Teazle snickered, a highly unpleasant sound, and began to stalk Delaware with his gaze. She gave no sign of noticing which Lila took as a sign of extreme fatigue or stupidity.

“What crisis?” Lila murmured, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see something so unpleasant as Cara staring at her. She felt sore and tired in every possible way. Zal crooned softly into her ear. She wondered if he knew about Adai.

“You can concern yourself with that once you are certified fit to return to work,” Cara was saying. “Everyone else may be released after interview if they are satisfactory.”

“The Otopians are experiencing many strange night haunts and encounters with what they think are extraterrestrial beings,” Teazle hissed. “Creatures which defy all natural law.” He drawled the word “natural” with extreme contempt. “They suppose they are under attack or the threat of it and have sent all their forces to capture and command one of these creatures.”

Cara’s lip curled, “You are not here to speculate upon classified . . .”

Zal coughed and interrupted. “I don’t want to spoil your party or anything but don’t you think it’s time you dropped the bullshit and adapted to what you’ve got in front of you?”

She turned to him with icy composure. “And what might that be?”

“A crossworld group of uniquely powerful allies, all brought together by the person you thought you’d just use as a robot spy.”

“You have no power within your individual races or worlds. Skills and strength maybe, but no authority . . .” She glanced upward at Teazle’s dangling form, his wiry and muscular body apparently hanging from no more than a cursory connection with some flimsy ceiling tiles, and flinched slightly. “Not any more,” she added.

“She’s right,” Teazle said in his harsh garble, words half swallowed and liplessly delivered with all the promise of a B-movie monster. “We haven’t got any authority here, or anywhere. You’re a crazed heretic pretending to be a pop star who used to be a half-assed secret service employee. The faery hasn’t got the loyalty of a mayfly or the attention span of one either, even in human guise. The sister’s an out-of-work chef who just managed to burn spaghetti, and I have better things to do than be bossed around by some human jobsworth. We should leave the humans to their hysteria with the moths and take off for a better place.” His speech was an open invitation, and Lila sensed a rise of energy in Zal correspondingly. She could feel his smile in the swirl of
andalune
he bathed her in and the beginnings of a conspiracy of sorts—they were plotting something, or beginning to execute a plan of their own and even though there was almost no magical power in the place they had enough between them to manage something before the day was out.

There was the sound of guns being cocked. Lila craned around and saw armed guards on the door. Some guns pointed at Teazle, some at Zal, some uncertainly at the floor.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Delaware said. “Liabilities all. You’ve said enough in the last ten minutes to ensure your incarceration as security liabilities.”

“Where are my parents?” Lila broke in. “Have you released them?”

“In their current condition the doctors say there is some hope for recovery . . .”

“They’re dead,” Lila said.

The room was silent. Delaware bit her lip, apparently only then realising her misstep in revealing that they had at least lived until recently.

Lila felt Max staring at her. “What do you mean? They were dead before. Weren’t they?” Her sister looked at her accusingly and then at Delaware and then at Malachi.

“You were keeping them on ice just in case they were capable of being returned, right?” Lila asked, speaking to Delaware but looking at Max. “Maybe you could have sent me to Thanatopia to recover them, found out how to use that place, like a necromancer. That’s the reason you’d give me to go there. Or you could trust them to be the ballast keeping me flying right.”

“We need every piece of information we can get,” Delaware replied, cool and stony faced. “You and every other human knows that. All the others have the advantage of prior knowledge. We know nothing. We have to do everything we can to ensure our security and safety. I hardly need blackmail to make that an essential goal.”

“There’s a lot of holes in Demonia,” Zal said conversationally. “Like in Alfheim. But nowhere near as much cracking as there is in Otopia. It’s getting worse. I hear the faeries are none too happy about it either. I hate to interrupt again but it seems like there are some larger issues of the moment here that nobody is addressing. If I were you I’d be wondering if the incursion of outsider creatures here wasn’t related to that. Maybe you’d like to make a note of it.” He smiled at Cara though there was no smile reaching his eyes.

Delaware gave a nod and one of the technicians did something on his notebook.

Lila’s AI sprang to life. She had got used to its quiescent state and having it suddenly appear in her consciousness, as big as she was, was a terrible shock. Her awareness expanded and at the same moment she felt herself seamlessly overridden by this second system. She felt so loyal and grateful to the agency, how could she have allowed her personal life—however tragic—to interfere?

Tath, who had been weak and silent until then, suddenly stirred inside her chest.

“Yar,” Malachi said with uncharacteristic droll annoyance. “I’ll be having that if you don’t mind.” He held out his hand and the notepad spun out of the technician’s grasp and flew across the room straight to him. He caught it in midair, releasing the still-sobbing Max who put both hands over her mouth and stared with disbelieving eyes.

“It won’t do you any good,” Delaware said. “We have others, and we have the codes. We can reset them faster than you could try to crack them.”

“Time to go, lads,” Malachi said and the technicians sidled up towards him.

“Graham, Yvonne,” Delaware snapped, but her commands went to deaf ears.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Malachi said idly, as he was flanked by white coats. “I’ve nothing against you and your operation. I’ve been glad to help you and I’d do it all again, I will do it all again, but I have some interesting affairs that have to be settled first, namely, you have to give Lila autonomy, or as from this moment the fey will cease all diplomatic friendliness with you. And that could be disturbing at the present time, since I believe you will be needing us to help you deal with your—little problem.”

“But . . .” spluttered Delaware, turning to Sarasilien and Dr. Williams.

“Faery dust is persuasive,” Sarasilien said, giving Malachi a glance of respect. “And to human senses, virtually undetectable. Dr. Huggins and Dr. Peacock here are under his command until it may be washed off.”

“You are the magical expert here. It’s your responsibility to be on guard for this kind of treachery!” Delaware snapped at him.

“I have been in the laboratory for months, attempting to resolve the issues with the Bomb Forensics Team, aside from that brief interlude with the elves and their quest to hunt down Zal. Besides, Malachi has clearance to do as he likes. It was part of his remit. He is within his rights to use minor magical persuasions against lower-ranking officials if he suspects them of unethical practices.”

Dr. Williams turned to regard Sarasilien with new interest. She followed the conversation like a small owl, her head turning eagerly to each new contribution.

“So you’re prepared to betray us all?” Delaware sneered.

“You are in no immediate danger, so betray is a foolish word.” Sarasilien barely moved from his upright position. “But Malachi is not the only one here who foresees bad consequences for your use of Lila as a remote-controlled device. Even if it were unobjectionable, the opportunity exists for her to be subverted and used against you as Malachi has proved.”

“The other reason none of this will ever work,” Dr. Williams spoke up, “is that as it stands the agency and Lila are now mutually opposed to one another’s interests. Either you all work together in a spirit of trust and cooperation or the entire matter will end very badly indeed. Cara, this is your problem. You can’t do this with rules and force from on high, mostly because none of these people respond to it. It’s time for a different approach.”

The younger woman stared at her with rigid dislike. “What had you in mind?”

“I was thinking you might take a holiday. I’ve already written you a note. Overwork can be a terrible thing.”

“I have no intention of leaving at a crisis period . . .”

Dr. Williams looked dismayed. “Oh, but I already sent it. Your authorisation is here. Plus, the Director has been so pleased with your work that he’s arranged a promotion for you on your return. You can go anytime you like. Your replacement is on the way.”

Teazle snickered. “That’s more like it. Finally a bit of interest. Mutiny, and no telling at what level the commands really come from. I like it.”

Delaware had gone a deathly, speechless white.

At that moment a fiery ball, smoking faintly, pushed its way through the wall and darted to Lila’s shoulder. With a small popping noise Thingamajig manifested and took a look into the surprised faces around him.

“Ooh, not a moment too soon! I’m sensing a lot of anger in the room, a lot of restless spirits filled with the vibes of inadequacy and confusion, mingled with just a piquant hint of incompetence. You, you lady,” he pointed to Delaware, “have done a masterful job here.” He bowed deeply and dug his claws into Lila’s shoulder with a shiver of satisfaction. “So, how is everybody doin’?”

There was a moment’s thoughtful silence as everybody stared at the imp.

Then Delaware turned and stalked from the room, pushing past the armed guards without a backward glance. They heard her heels in the corridor fading away to quiet.

“Was it something I said?” Thingamajig asked, his eyebrows raised almost higher than his head.

Sarasilien turned his head towards Dr. Williams. “Do you suppose she will make a valuable enemy?” Everyone listened, temporarily stunned to personal silences by the sudden turns of events. Lila noted the AI signing Delaware off the authority listings, but nobody appeared to replace her.

“Her losses are her own affair,” Williams said with a sigh. “She simply wasn’t suited to the position by temperament, which caused her to make several unfortunate misjudgements, and that’s true enough to be the entire reason I will ever give.”

The elf nodded slowly, his lips pursed forwards in the common human manner of someone who is considering a strangely intriguing and impressive manoeuvre.

“I can’t see a replacement,” Lila said, all her attention focused on Dr. Williams, but as she spoke the omissions from the roll began reappearing in her knowledge—Malachi was reinstated where he had been deleted when she awoke. Sarasilien’s cautionary status was dropped and his privileges restored. Her own file, that had always been brief and to the point, suddenly expanded, like a concertina; chock-full of new information. Her seniority was upped five levels, putting her on equal footing with Sarasilien himself for clearance and command. It was like watching flowers bud and bloom in seconds of time-lapse film. And then new blooms came: Zal’s name appeared, and Teazle’s too . . .

At this point Dr. Williams, who had been quietly fiddling and muttering crossly at her personal interface Berry, pulled up what Lila was seeing and projected it shakily onto the far wall across Malachi’s and Max’s heads so that everyone else could read it too.

“I’ve been doing some adjusting,” she said, reaching into a pocket for her glasses, shaking the arms out carefully and putting them on her face. “And if you are agreeable, Zal and Teazle, I would like you to consider this proposal . . .”

She got out the light pen from her top pocket and started sketching lines. She drew a band around Lila, Zal, Teazle, and Malachi. “This would be the outside operations group. Which leaves myself and the office and technical staff as your base resource team.” At this point her own name appeared: Dr. Williams, Director of CrossWorld Resources and Operations. She circled it into the much larger list of people who worked at the agency. “Whilst of course Lila’s responsibility is to Otopia, naturally, I wouldn’t expect that of outsiders whose interests may lie elsewhere. This group is to be created solely for the purpose of investigating common crossworld problems and resolving them to mutual satisfaction. If you don’t want to participate then you must say so now because it’s high time we paid more attention to interesting reports like this one . . .” She fussed with the Berry and murmured, “Stupid machine . . . such little buttons . . . come on, damn you . . .”