Thursday's Child
Chapter 11
Lying camouflaged in the desert under cover of night, his gun at the ready, about to heroically sweep in and destroy the stronghold of the enemy, Alexander felt anything but heroic. In fact, he felt a bit foolish, as well as doubtful and extremely uncomfortable.
He spared a moment to wonder what his life would have been like if not the for the strange chain of misfortunes and coincidences that had landed him there -- perhaps sitting in front of a fire somewhere, with a wife cooking supper and children playing on the hearthrug. Perhaps not. A moment was all it was -- too much depended on him now for idle reflections.
The last vestiges of the sunset vanished on the horizon as Alexander turned to regard their target. It seemed nothing more than a small hill, one of many such in the desert, and had Lillian not told them what to look for he would probably never have recognized it. Only it's slightly too regular proportions and a circle of metal half-covered by sand revealed the structure for what it was.
He waited for the last traces of light to fade, then raised his hand in a wordless order.
No time like the present. Once more into the breach.
They crept forward, careful of making the slightest noise, although it was doubtful that anyone below would have been able to hear them. Derek, visible only as an inky shadow against the backdrop of the night sky, wrenched the trap door open with the butt end of his rifle. One by one, they climbed in and slowly descended the metal ladder.
Alexander, the first one in, felt his feet touch the ground and looked up to watch the rest of the team come down to join him. Two, three, four -- Lyara jumped down lightly and he could see the glint of her teeth in the darkness -- five, six, seven. Finally, Derek climbed down and shut the trap door behind him. It clanged lightly as it dropped into place, and for a moment all eight froze.
The small landing they stood on remained completely dark and silent.
"We're in!" Lyara whispered gleefully.
"Too easy," he heard Shira answer.
Alexander glanced around at the empty guard's desk with its dark computer, listened for any sounds of movement from below and heard -- nothing.
"Lillian said there would be a guard on duty, motion detectors --"
"They may have reduced security."
"No," Alexander said, "There's something wrong."
The lights flashed on abruptly, momentarily blinding them. Once the glare was bearable, Alexander saw the elevator doors slowly slide open. A tall, graying man flanked by half a dozen Agents stepped out and regarded the group, too shocked to do more than stare back, with an expression of faint pleasure.
"You are absolutely correct, my boy," said Belius.
The tent had not been made for pacing -- even at its highest point the ceiling was too low to allow standing fully upright. However, Lily managed to make do.
Two days had passed. Far too soon to expect any news -- too soon, perhaps, for the team to have even reached their destination. Still, she worried.
If any of the information she had given been incorrect... If more security measures had been added... If...
"Lily?" called a hesitant voice from outside.
She hastily drew back the flap and Nora came in, shaking raindrops from her faded blond hair.
"Miserable weather," she muttered, then looked up at Lillian, a line of concern appearing between her brows, "What's wrong? You look as if you haven't slept a wink."
Lillian rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. "I've been worried. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Nora sat down on the edge of Lillian's sleeping bag, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Hell, neither do I. With Alex at the reins, they'll be fine."
"He's a good commander."
"And maybe a bit more than that?" Nora attempted a weak smile.
"I honestly don't know."
Suddenly tired, she dropped down next to Nora and sighed. For a while they sat in thoughtful silence, broken only by the gentle patter of rain outside.
"Nora?"
"Hmm?"
"Why wouldn't Alexander let you go? You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not, but I was curious." She was surprised at how thin and strained her voice sounded to her own ears.
Nora glanced up in surprise, then as quickly looked down at her hands, threading the fingers together.
"You really want to know?"
"If it's alright."
"Well," she said, "It's just an old story. Childhood drama. Of course, I was around twenty, not really a child. I was getting married to an old friend of the family. A bunch of Agents interrupted the wedding. They said my father had been planning a rebellion. Maybe he had been, it would've been like him. They killed my parents and my fiancé in front of my eyes, would've killed me too, but --" she paused, "They didn't. So I vowed I would be avenged, that kind of melodramatic stuff. Alex thinks it'll cloud my judgment or something."
She shrugged and fiddled with her shirt cuff.
Lillian nodded and remained silent. It wasn't the whole truth, she realized, and did nothing to explain Alexander's role, but she could say nothing. The story of losing everything was too much like her own to allow for pressing and prying for information.
They sat there, together yet each very much alone with her own thoughts, waiting for news.
The rain continued all through that week and the next. The camp's inhabitants moved about quietly, exchanging few words as they went through the motions, preparing food no one would be able to eat.
On the sixth day they spent the night huddled around the campfire, not daring to sleep for fear of missing the team's return. On the seventh day Felix sent out a search party. His mustache dropped, raindrops dripping off the corners as he gave the order.
"They probably got delayed. By the rain, maybe. Or a dust storm. Look everywhere."
On the twelfth day the search party returned. The rain finally eased, to be replaced by a cloudy stillness as they all gathered to hear the worst.
"We couldn't find them," said the downcast leader of the search party breathlessly, "We hoped they'd passed us without us noticing, but if they're not here after all this time --"
"We have to conclude," said Felix flatly, "That the team has been captured."
Lillian didn't know what to think -- what her reaction should be. The news didn't surprise her, not after the days of suspense and waning hope, but had she truly anticipated it? She wasn't sure what she had expected, but this -- the bald pronouncement of a fact she had been fighting so hard not to contemplate -- shocked her to her very core.
"Alexander left orders with me, as the third in command," continued Felix in a voice weighed down with suppressed sorrow, "As to what should be done were...this...to happen. They were sealed, but whatever they say, we can be sure that Alex would want us to follow them to the letter. I will open them now." From a pouch at his side he withdrew a folded sheet of paper, broke the seal, and opened it up. His gruff voice wavered a little as he haltingly began to read,
"‘If you are reading this now then what I feared must have come to pass and our endeavor has failed, ourselves captured. I would urge you not to attempt a rescue if I thought it would do any good, but I will not make such an insult to your loyalty. I know you will do all in your power to save us, and though I would not want you to make such risks for our sake, I am certain you will do it anyway.
"‘If a rescue mission is attempted I want---‘" Felix paused, his eyes widening, and the surprise in his voice was audible as he continued, "'I want Lillian Beyrill to be its leader.'" The gasp was everything a theatrically minded person could have wished. "‘I know that some of you still distrust her,'" Felix continued, "‘In spite of all she has done to help us. I beg you to put those old prejudices aside and see that she is truly the best person we can choose. Her past experience makes her all the more qualified. I know that she, and those she picks to go with her, will do all they can to succeed where we have failed, and I thank them from the bottom of my heart. Alexander.'"
Lillian could hardly hear the conclusion of the letter for the roar in her ears. Alexander had chosen her? The thought sent a small frisson of pleasure through her, only to be forgotten beneath a wave of disbelief. Her, to head the rescue? Her, to storm Society Headquarters? No, it couldn't be, it was impossible! Alexander was mistaken, or -- yes, that had to be it! -- Felix had read the letter wrong, and it hadn't meant her at all!
Under the curious and surprised eyes of the rest of the camp she ran up and seized the letter from his hands, quickly scanning down the page. It was no mistake -- there was her own name in Alexander's elegant hand.
"Well, what do you say?" she dimly heard Felix ask.
"I...I don't know...I can't," she barely knew what she was saying, "Oh, I couldn't!...No...I need to think, I need time -- Excuse me." Still clutching the letter, Lillian threaded her way through the throng, and rushed to her tent. As soon as she was safely inside, the nervous energy left her and she collapsed, spent and bewildered, against the tent wall.
Only a few seconds were necessary for Alexander to ascertain that their predicament was utterly hopeless. When he turned back to his captors, his face showed only a kind of tired resignation. Still, he had yet to see the worst.
"What splendid timing, my dear," cried a cheerful voice, and Alexander turned in shock to see that it was Lyara's. She favored him with a smug smile as she made her way to Belius's side. "Surprised, Alex? I'm disappointed in you -- I was sure that pet deserter of yours had seen right through me. But you didn't believe her, did you? Of course not. You always had a bit of a blind spot where I was concerned. How flattering. And Derek," she stretched out a benedictive hand to him as he walked over to stay beside her, looking, of all things, proud of his betrayal, "Surely you didn't suspect him? True, he didn't always have as good of a control over his feelings as I would have liked, but still, after all those years we worked together.... I always was the practical one, you know. Did you expect me to keep supporting the losing side?"
Alexander stared at her in disbelief, as if seeing her for the first time. Of course, Lillian had tried to warn him, had seen with such clarity what was staring him right in the face. If only he had listened! He had been a fool, and would pay the price, but did so much have to be dragged down with him? Still, he would not let those gloomy thoughts show, and when he faced Belius again he did so with defiance.
"So now, by fair and foul -- mostly by foul, I should say --" he added almost mockingly, "You have us. What use are we to you?"
"You know your own use," Belius said, his gray eyes calm with satisfaction, "And you will al serve in helping me to find your friends. As for now ---"
With truly impeccable timing, the lift door opened behind him and a flushed, breathless young Agent vainly attempting a mask of impassivity rushed up to him.
"Sir," she panted, "Farrington is revolting. They're saying the taxes are too high, and refuse to go back to the mines. They insist on seeing you personally. What should we do?"
Belius's smile, had the residents of Farrington seen it, would have made them reconsider their revolt.
"If they insist, I shall have to give them the pleasure." He gestured off-handedly at the team, "They are to be placed in prisoner quarters, maximum security. I'll have time enough for them when I return. Ms. Allain, Mr. Reggan, you will see to it?"
Lyara and Derek scarcely had time to nod assent before he left them, leaning unobtrusively on the young Agent's arm.
Flanked by guards on all sides, the six members of the team descended into the dark depths of Headquarters.
Somewhere outside the bounds of her perception there was arguing and noise, but inside the tent silence reigned, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She wouldn't take the mission, on that point she was settled. As flattering as Alexander's trust in her was, disappointing him in this one particular would be far better than the complete disaster that would occur were she to accept. There was too much already on her shoulders -- they felt ready to buckle under the weight. No, let someone else have the responsibility, someone more qualified and less afraid.
And yet... Something disturbing tugged at her mind, refusing to leave her alone with a decision that brought with it at least a measure of comfort. Too drained to resist, she close her eyes and let the flurry of images wash over her.
Waking, blinking sand out of her eyes, the trader bending over her...helpless as Derek and his men tied her up...a voice that was not her own: "How about asking her?"...another sickbed, some vile drink and Alexander's unexpectedly gentle eyes, then again, he by her bedside as she struggled to keep her eyes open...Lyara, mocking: "Oh, I'm so sorry, talking about you like you're not even there..."
Was that her? Passive, submissive, weak? The thought was as shocking as a bucket of ice water poured over her head, and as quick to bring her back to reality.
She had always seen herself as a strong person -- a soldier, and even when that was taken away, still she had the illusion of strength. Could a weak person have opposed the Society, deserted in broad daylight? She could ask herself that, as long as she didn't have to answer that, had she stopped in her blind rush long enough to think it over, she probably wouldn't have gone through with it.
Now, confronted with a true picture of her own character, everything in Lillian immediately rebelled against it.
Yes, that was how she had been -- and now, so ready to fall into the same pattern! Would she sit twiddling her thumbs and worrying while others became a part of the action? Was that who she wanted to be? Was Alexander's trust to be misplaced?
"Lily?" Nora called, cautiously poking her head through the tent entrance, "You've got a bunch of very confused people out there."
"Tell them..." she began, suddenly resolute, "Tell them I'm taking the mission."
She had something to prove now, to herself most of all.
Chapter 13
It was one thing to boldly declare she was going, quite another to arrange it all. A few doubters that still refused to trust her had to be convinced, the team selected, the plans made. Lillian carried it out with a brisk, determined efficiency that silenced the complaints of even her worst critics. She never paused to consider what, aside from the desire to prove herself, drove her. If she had, may have realized that it was not concern for Shira, Derek, or any of the others -- and perhaps that was why she refused to let herself think about it.
In the end it was agreed (or rather decided by Lillian and announced so firmly as to leave no room for objections) that the team would be comprised of only Nora, Felix, and herself, since there was not time to send for representatives from other cells. She outlined their objectives -- to destroy the Headquarters computers and rescue their predecessors -- positively and optimistically, but inside she began to doubt that the mission stood any chance of success, least of all with her as its leader. She knew despair would be disastrous, and yet with every day that passed she lost hope.
"Don't," said Nora suddenly as the two of them worked at assembling crude explosives.
"Don't what?' Lillian asked, keeping her voice carefully even.
"Don't tell yourself all the reasons you can't do it. Trust me -- I did once." She didn't elaborate, but after that moment Lily felt just a little less alone.
"I almost wish that he'd come back and finish the job," Shira mused, rapping her nails against the steel floor.
A few more seconds of this torture, and even Seamus Alberts, a usually mild-mannered young man from Shira's cell, lost his patience. "Stop that! Please," he added as an embarrassed afterthought.
"You'd better," Alexander suggested with a trace of a wry smile, "Or he won't have to."
Shira glowered at them both and clasped her hands around her knees.
"I'm bored," said a slight, black-haired woman named Anya Felton, "I need to break something or I'll go insane, but it's all metal..." She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes wearily.
For a while they were silent, each lost in his or her own gloomy reflections.
At the sound of movement from beyond the door six heads instantly snapped to attention. After a breathless pause that seemed infinite, but couldn't have been lasted more than a moment, the door swung open and Lyara, defiantly resplendent in Society uniform, strode in with a display of assurance that almost succeed in masking her discomfort.
"Alex," she said with a tight smile, "Come with me."
"I'd rather not at present, if it's all the same to you," he answered, his eyes fixed on the floor with every sign of nonchalance.
"Oh, don't be an idiot. Do you really think it'll get you anywhere? Agents!" she called through the door.
At her order, two impassive guards came in and, seizing a silent Alexander under his elbows, dragged him out of the room.
The chamber they brought him to, brightly lit and furnished with only a table and two chairs, had clearly been designed for interrogation. Alexander looked at Lyara, sitting cross-legged and apparently at ease across from him, and could only wonder how he had ever been so deceived by her. There was no trace of the Lyara Allain he thought he had known in the composed stranger facing him.
"I don't suppose you'll tell me why you brought me here -- or has your master returned?" he asked her, placing a marked emphasis on the penultimate word.
She was unfazed. "No, Belius isn't back. I wanted to chat, that's all."
"Is it?"
"Of course -- what other motive could I have?"
"You tell me, Lyara," he said softly, "I don't seem to be an expert on your motives."
"Oh, don't look at me like that! I had to stand up for myself -- hasn't it always been about that?"
"Not to my knowledge. Our notions of self-defense do seem to be somewhat different."
"You will be difficult. Can't you at least try to understand me?"
"I thought I did."
This had the effect of silencing her, but only for a moment.
"Well," she resumed brightly, "So that's the game we're playing. Suit yourself, then. I'll just call in the guards to take you back to your cell and you'll never need to see me again."
This hurt him more than he was prepared for. She had meant it to, of course, and he knew it, but somehow that did nothing to ease the jolt of pain that shot through him at her words.
"I thought you cared for me, you know," he said coldly, "Imagine that."
This admittedly low blow struck home, for all she tried to hide it. A look of
pure agony passed over her beautiful features. It was gone in the blink of an
eye, but her careless laugh sounded strained when she answered,
"Only as a cat cares for the mouse it's stalking! You always had such sentimental notions," she tossed her head, "Well, I'm sorry I bothered -- I can see we're wasting time here. Guards, take him away!"
They promptly did so, and if, left alone in the comfortless metal room, Lyara Allain shed a tear or two, no one ever knew.
They were too late and everyone was dead. She had only to look down to
see the bodies sprawled on the floor -- there was Lyara, beautiful yet, auburn
hair framing a too-pale face. And Alexander -- if she only looked down she would
see him too.
She didn't look. She stood absolutely still and listened for the sound on
booted feet coming closer and closer...
They were right behind her now. Only two footfalls; a single person.
Slowly, she pivoted, and there was Alexander, blood caking the side of his
head.
"Why didn't you come?" he questioned her angrily.
"But I did," she pleaded, "I came as soon as I could!"
"Not soon enough for us, was it?" There was no mercy in his unblinking
gaze. "I trusted you and you betrayed me, but then what could I have expected?
You always were a traitor, and now you are the one responsible..." His voice
trailed off, accusing to the last, and as she watched in horror, he turned to
ashes before her eyes.
And still, in the distance, came the sound of relentlessly marching feet.
Hands on her shoulders and a voice calling her name. Nora.
With a groan, Lily opened her eyes and saw her friend's face, strangely shadowed in the firelight.
Nora breathed a sigh of relief. "You had me worried there. Screaming about coming as soon you could, and then just, ‘No!' Bad dream?"
"Oh, yes." She felt a shiver travel down her spine at the mere memory of the terror. "Horrible. I dreamed about Alexander and...everyone else. We were too late..."
She collapsed back onto her sleeping bag, letting the monotonous song of the cicadas calm her.
"Felix will be back from patrol soon," Nora said softly, as though reluctant to break the stillness.
"Don't tell him?"
"I won't," she paused, "Guilty?"
"Very. I know it's irrational, but I can't help --"
"It's never rational. You have to blame someone, and when you can't blame anyone else..."
"With your family...is that what happened?"
"Oh, I had someone to blame. God, I blamed them. I hate them, so much -- I'd kill them all if I could..." She stopped and slowly unclenched her fists, giving a somewhat shaky rueful smile, "So you see -- bad either way."
"I can't help thinking it's too late," Lillian said quietly after a moment, "Rational or not, I'd never forgive myself that."
"Does it feel like it's too late?"
"I never had that ‘women's intuition'. I either know or I don't."
"I'm talking about more than just women's intuition."
"Nora..."
"Right, right." Her grin was almost natural. "My lips are sealed. Go back to sleep, Lily. We've got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."
She went back to her side of the campfire and soon her measured breathing showed that she was fast asleep.
Lillian watched her for a while, then lay back and gazed at the stars until the fire burned down to embers.
Chapter 14
There was nothing in the windowless room to show it was morning. There was no day and night; it may have been late afternoon for all she knew, but Anya Felton couldn't get back to sleep.
Yawning, she sat up and stretched, wincing at the protesting cracks in her back.
"How long has it been?" she asked dully.
"Eleven days," Alexander answered. She turned around and saw him sitting with his back against the wall, his eyes closed above dark, bruise-like circles. He looked so bone-weary and miserable that Anya wished she had the courage to go and give him a hug.
"You need to sleep," she said instead.
"I know."
He said no more, but Anya understood. He wasn't the only one to suffer from nightmares.
Alexander watched her lie down again, staring up at the ceiling and couldn't suppress a wave of guilt. She was still so young -- as young as another girl he had known whose spirit had been nearly destroyed -- that had been his fault too. The irony was too perfect to ignore -- almost ten years of trying to atone for his past, only to reverse it all with this fiasco. The setting was perfect too -- a complete coming full circle.
His own thoughts traveled in circles as well -- around and around, spinning about an axis of guilt. How he wished he could sleep, but that would only bring more torture.
Anything, even death, would be better than this.
As if in answer, the door was unlocked, bolts sliding back creakily. The other five, most of them asleep or dozing, sat up, muttering and blinking against the bright overhead lights.
Lyara, back for another of her chats? He wondered.
It wasn't. The door opened and Belius, followed by his escort, walked into the room.
It was the closest in a long while that Alexander had ever come to being glad to see him.
They made good progress the next day, though not in the best of spirits. The sky was shrouded in dull, low-hanging gray clouds, and the air was close and heavy with moisture. The approach of autumn was becoming widely felt, and the few trees they passed as they traversed the grasslands were liberally speckled with yellows and reds. There was little conversation.
Lillian found herself thinking back with nostalgia to her first weeks in the Resistance. Her memory passed over the unpleasant moments of suspicion, and instead she saw those days as a time for sunny freedom and optimism that contrasted sharply with the dull present.
They camped at the edge of the desert that night, and as they slept beneath the stars they had only a dim idea that somewhere, in a windowless metal room, their comrades were doing the same.
Lillian woke up first the next morning, dazed and disoriented at first as she surveyed her surroundings. They were camped in the lee of a small hill, and the view that presented itself to her as she looked up was oddly inverted. Then, remembering, she groaned and stretched out her aching legs, blinking sleep out of her eyes.
The sun was only in the first stages of rising; it was early yet. Lillian was strongly tempted to close her eyes again and let herself forget for just a little longer...but, with an effort of will, she resisted, and got up to wake Nora and Felix.
There wasn't a moment to lose.
They spent only a day in the desert, though a day monotonous and dispiriting enough for dozens, leading Lillian to think that, despite her careful observations of the sun's positions, she had probably spent the better part of her escape wandering around in circles. It didn't surprise her, once she recalled her state of mind during that time. She was hardly happier now, but she had a set purpose, at least, and that made all the difference.
At dusk, on their third day of travel, while not too far away Anya Felton was wondering about the time, Lillian, Nora, and Felix reached their destination.
Much like their predecessors, they lay in wait in the sand near the Headquarters entrance, but, unlike the previous team, they weren't expected.
It had all been arranged -- Nora was to set the explosives in the computer room while Felix and Lillian would rescue the prisoners. It was a perfectly straightforward plan, and should have gone off without a hitch.
Lillian had no way of foreseeing that it wouldn't do so, and, after taking a deep, fortifying breath, she motioned for them to move forward.
She knew enough to not expect the entry to be effortless. Taking the lead, she forced open the trap door and swung down, her hands barely keeping their hold against the shifting sand. There was a guard below. A swift kick, not even consciously considered, and he slumped to the ground. Dropping down, Lillian made her way to the computer and got to work.
She had always been good with the machines. The last few months before her desertion had mostly been spent repairing or installing them, so she made short work of disabling the security in the lower levels of the building. The passwords had been changed, of course, but, even had she never seen a computer before, it wouldn't have stopped her.
She tried not to think about anything not of immediate import, but it couldn't be helped. The slightly stale scent of the air, the feel of the keys beneath her fingers -- it was all too familiar to be ignored. Her eyes stung -- such an illogical, stupid reaction, and yet...
Lillian blinked rapidly, exhaled, and gave the signal for Felix and Nora to follow her. Though hard, it was necessary -- she would need all her strength now, as never before.
The others in the prison cell obviously shared Alexander's sentiments, for while none of them felt any less loathing for Belius, they were clearly relieved at his entrance. Even the certainty of doom was better than the limbo they had lived in for almost two weeks.
But even as their sudden flash of gladness faded, they became aware of the intense conflict of wills that was taking place in the room.
Neither Belius nor Alexander had moved an inch since the former's arrival. They stood completely still and silent, their eyes locked. No one could read the thoughts behind either expressionless face, but in the two pairs of identical brown orbs was hatred more powerful that any of them had ever witnessed before.
"Well?" Alexander asked finally, almost visibly trembling from the effort of remaining motionless, "You got what you've wanted. Are you happy?"
Belius didn't dignify this with an answer, only turned to the Agents flanking him and ordered them to bring the prisoner and follow.
Now, Alexander thought, after ten years, there would be a reckoning.
He told himself he wasn't afraid, and almost believed it.
Meanwhile, Lillian was telling herself much the same thing. The lift was inexorably taking them down into the heart of Headquarters, and, though it was nighttime, she knew it was only a matter of time before then ran into more Agents. The lift stopped -- they were level with the prisoner quarters. Exchanging a silent glance of encouragement with Nora, Lillian stepped out, Felix following.
"Down that corridor," she whispered once the doors had slid closed behind them.
Felix nodded and wordlessly drew his gun. Glancing at him in the low light, Lillian felt like she was looking at a stranger. She didn't feel completely herself in this place either, though for different reasons. There was a place inside her, she knew, where the influence of the Society had been, before it was wrenched away. Hollow, it throbbed dully now, the pain impairing her concentration...but no, she wouldn't let it do that. After, she told herself, when this was all over, she would be able to grieve. Not now.
They came to the cellblock unmolested, but at the door of the prison they were met by several guards. Dispatching them caused some difficulty, but eventually Felix and Lillian got through.
Once they were directly facing the door, Lillian glanced over at her companion and observed his look of amazement with what would have been, in other circumstances, amusement. She had seen prison doors, with their imposing multitude of bars and padlocks, before, and she knew how to get them open.
Yes, she thought grimly, typing at a keypad on the side of the door, they had been right to chase after her. They had thought she could be dangerous, and dangerous she would be.
Her efforts, spurned on by the proximity of her goal, were soon rewarded. Felix had clearly been impressed, but she was beyond caring for that. Soon, so soon, she would be in -- would see him...
With every ounce of strength in her, Lily pushed open the door.
Chapter 15
He wasn't there. Humiliating as it was, that was the first thought to pass through her mind as she stepped into the cell. Neither were Derek and Lyara, but that realization came later. Alexander's absence was palpable, and it was a few seconds before Lillian was able to overcome the crushing disappointment she felt.
Once she had, she was instantly ashamed of herself. This thing she felt was a decided weakness, and she had resolved to allow herself none.
"Alexander, Derek, Lyara," she brought herself to ask, "Where are they?"
Five pale faces looked up at her, relieved but still full of anxiety. "Thank God," she heard Shira breathe, but her question remained unanswered, almost as if they didn't know where to begin. Finally, a diminutive young woman, a thick, black braid hanging over her shoulder, stepped forward.
"Lyara and Derek are traitors," she said calmly, with only a weary edge to undermine her clear voice, "The Society leader has taken Alexander."
A picture of this leader was burned into Lillian's mind -- she could see Belius's merciless face as clearly now as in the dream she had had once. She fought to suppress a shudder.
"The rest of the team?"
"We're fine," said the woman, and smiled faintly, "We knew you'd come."
Lily tried to return her smile, and, failing, turned to Felix, "Get them away from here."
He nodded soberly. "You'll --" a note of uncertainty crept into his voice, "You'll find Alex?"
"Yes," she said, momentarily believing it, "You know I will."
She knew where they had taken him, and the knowledge filled her with dread.
General Belius's private sacrum had always been used to frighten cadets, and as
no empty threat. There would have been no order if it were -- the Society enforced
its rules.
That was where Lillian was headed -- alone, armed only with a rifle. If she had been afraid upon first descending into Headquarters, how much more so was she now, creeping along dark corridors, with the place she feared most in the world as her destination?
Silence reigned in the halls she passed through -- thick, oppressive silence that made her breathing quicken as she fought for air. Finally, the destination was in sight -- a plain iron door, seemingly unguarded, its very presence enough to warn away intruders. She had been here once before -- eight years ago, a young soldier on guard duty, bringing a prisoner to his doom. It bothered her now, this memory, although it hadn't at the time, and she briefly wondered who had brought Alexander there, and whether the recollection of it would ever cause them discomfort.
The door was only a few feet away now, and her pace slowed as she approached it, treading lightly in her soft-soled shoes. Just a few more steps...
"Who's there?" called a sharp voice from the shadows.
Lillian froze, the frantic beat of her heart pounding in her ears.
"Agent Susannah Myrtle." She tried to keep her voice steady as she randomly chose the name of a cadet who had been in her class.
A silhouette of a man emerged from the darkness, his features indistinct in the half-light. The gun he held was aimed directly at her, and when he spoke it was in a tone heavy with suspicion.
"What are you doing here?"
"I have a message for the General."
"What sort of message?" His grip on the gun relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"One you don't have the security clearance to know." She could feel herself gaining confidence with every word. "Now, would you let me pass?"
"The General is interrogating a prisoner," the Agent protested, "He said he didn't want to be interrupted."
"He'll want to see me," Lillian returned.
"Well, in that case --" He took another step forward and Lillian saw his eyes narrow in the brighter light, "That's not a Society uniform --!"
Her foot shot out and knocked him out neatly. She could have explained that away, perhaps, but at what cost? Enough, she thought grimly, there had already been too many lies.
Like Lyara and Derek, she reflected, pausing outside the door once she had dragged the guard into a dark alcove. It didn't come as much of a surprise to her, but it wasn't a welcome development. Nora didn't know it yet, and Lillian wished there was some way of contacting her with the information. Not that it was likely to matter, but, still, it always helped to have a complete knowledge of the enemy.
Cautiously, Lillian eased the door open the merest fraction, and bent down to listen to what was taking place inside.
"There," Nora whispered with quiet triumph, sitting back and passing a hand across her forehead. The last explosive was in place, set to go off in an hour's time. The task had taken her more time than planned, owing to the fact that she had almost gotten lost in the bowels of the building -- Lily's instructions had been unavoidably vague -- but they had allowed themselves enough leeway to cover the contingency.
Wincing as the blood surged back into her cramped legs, Nora rose to her feet and began to gather up her tools. Only once that task was completed, and the backpack slung over her shoulder, did she allow herself to look around the chamber she was in.
It was large, almost cavern-like, and coldly imposing. Computers covered every wall and spilled out onto consoles scattered about the room. Their blinking, flashing, beeping façades seemed to gaze down at her in disapproval.
And why shouldn't they disapprove, Nora thought with shaky humor, when she had just finished setting bombs under them? In spite of herself, she was oppressed by the unvarying gray décor and sheer massiveness. How many years, how many lives, had it taken to create all this, only to be, God willing, destroyed in this one night?
Nora nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and turned away. The door soon shut behind her with a soft clang, and she was once again in a dimly lit corridor.
A dimly lit corridor exactly identical to all the others she had passed through. What direction had she come from? Frantically, Nora tried to remember. She looked from one side to the other, but no clue or landmark appeared in the shadowy depths. The left, she thought -- she was almost certain -- yes, that had to be it.
Silently trying to reassure herself, Nora set off in that direction.
More corridors branched off on all sides, each just the same as the next, but Nora walked past them, trying to remain calm in spite of the fear that almost paralyzed her. However, when she rounded a bend to find herself facing a blank wall, the shock was too much for her already shaky nerves to handle.
She turned and ran in the opposite direction, blinding turning at each juncture, the never-altering corridors blending together before her eyes. Caught, trapped in the labyrinthine underground tunnels, she was quickly succumbing to despair, and was almost convinced she would never escape from the maze, when the walls opened up and there, like some heavenly vision, were the doors of the lift.
Another time, Nora may have laughed at herself for seeing such a prosaic object in this glorified light, but in her present state she could only half-collapse against the nearest wall and wait for her breathing to return to normal.
However, she was still sucking in air in painful gasps when the lift doors slid open.
Once he had realized where they were taking him -- but really, he should have always known -- he hadn't been able to prevent himself from lashing out at his captors in pure, irrational panic. They had knocked him on the head with something -- the butt end of a rifle? -- and he had completed the nightmare journey swimming in and out of consciousness. What finally brought him to the surface was a pair of clear, forest-green eyes, and a face with a particularly determined set of features -- of more character than beauty, perhaps, but not to him --
Wincing, Alexander opened his eyes, to find them flooded with harsh, bright light. She wasn't there, of course -- the knowledge came and settled in his heart like a cold slab of metal -- if he ever saw her again, it would be only in his mind's eye.
"Where are they?" came a voice he knew all too well, sharp and impatient. The question wasn't directed to him, and he quickly shut his eyes again to hear as much as he could.
"I have done all I could to reach Agents Allain and Reggan," replied another, also masculine and full of sickening smoothness, "They don't answer my summons."
"I wonder," said Belius with malicious sarcasm, "What they could possibly be doing?"
Alexander risked opening his eyes a fraction and saw the second man, a tan, well-built character with far too much oil in both his hair and expression, blanch visibly.
Lyara, my dear, he thought bitterly, you have been busy.
Just then the object of his thoughts, followed by Derek, breezed into the room with a perfect composure that seemed to silently deny any such accusations.
"You called?" she inquired with a smile.
Belius failed to be softened. "Yes, and repeatedly. How kind of you to find the time to come."
"Our apologizes," Lyara said soothingly, "What was it you wanted us for?"
"General," interrupted the oily-haired man, looking up from the computer console he had been bent over and refusing to so much as glance in Lyara's direction, a fact that seemed only amuse her, "Security is picking up strange signals from the lower levels. They can't tell what's causing them, and it may just be a glitch in the system --"
"Agent Reggan," interjected Belius, "Why don't you go and investigate? It would be a shame to wake any of our other hardworking agents for what may be a system error...."
"Yes, sir," Derek said, looking none too pleased, and strode out.
Lillian, hidden around a shadowy corner, let out the agonized breath she had been holding at seeing him pass by without noticing her, only to have her relief be replaced by an instant new anxiety.
Upon first hearing Lyara and Derek approach she had retreated to her present hiding place, but after the door had shut behind them she had dared to come closer and try to hear what was being said. Now she was filled with worry for Nora -- Derek was now heading straight for her, and if he ran into her ... The possibility was too disastrous to face, and yet face it she must.
Nora was unaware of Derek's defection, and, as soon as he realized it, he would be able to use that fact for infinite advantage. There was only one thing to be hoped for -- that Nora, when or if Derek found her, would not tell him of their plan, and of the explosives she had set.
© 2001 Copyright held by the author.