Suture (The Bleeding Worlds) (13 page)

They'd gone two city blocks when Gwynn held up his hand to stop Jason.

"There's that feeling again."

"Like you're being watched?"

Gwynn nodded.

"Yeah, me too."

"So what do we do?" Gwynn asked.

"Just keep walking like we don't notice anything. Maybe we're just reacting to the energies around us."

They both felt it. There was no denying, the sensation ran through them like being struck by lightning—a tear in the Veil being opened.

"Ok, forget what I said. Run."

If the security of command appeared like overkill, the security entering Research and Development bordered on paranoia.

What do they do behind those doors that needs all this security?

"What do you do at work, daddy?" she'd asked him when she was five. She recalled doing a project at school where the teacher asked them to report on their parents' jobs. Fuyuko recalled the memory strongly. Those precious few years she attended school in the town outside, before anyone knew whether she would awaken or not.

Instead of providing an immediate answer, Shinji Takeda regarded her with questioning eyes. As a child, his expression had little meaning—all she cared about was getting an answer. As she saw it now, his expression said two things;
Why are you bothering me
? and
You should never ask me such a question.

"I work with other men and women to keep the world safe," was the way he finally answered. Even to get that cryptic answer required some severe brow beating from her mother. Almost thirteen years later and it was still the only answer she had.

After leaving the elevator, she stood in a short hall, confronted by a door which looked like it could withstand a missile assault. There was nowhere to enter a code, scan a palm, or a retina. From what little she'd gleamed over the years, this entire hall scanned every aspect of a person—their weight, gait, appearance, even the distance between their eyes. All these variables were compared to existing data. And this was only the first door. Another time she visited her father she'd caught a glimpse of more beyond.

"Fuyuko Takeda," a metallic voice filled the hallway. "State your business."

Her fist clenched—she focused all the energy threatening to make her tremble into that small space. "I wondered if I might speak to my father for just a minute."

"Please wait."

She guessed a security guard was on the other end of the metallic voice. Would he be searching out her father, interrupting his secretive work? This idea felt increasingly like a stupid move. If she could remain cool and collected in a fight, why did dealing with her father reduce her to a blustering mess?

In this one instance, she was happy for Jason's absence. He might've insisted on coming along—catching her in a lie. He believed she'd been spending more time with her parents. A convenient thing to tell him. Originally she just couldn't bear being around anyone who reminded her of what she'd lost. On the other hand, if she hated the pity in people's eyes, she despised the disappointment in her father's. So she'd hid in her room. This would be the first time seeing her dad in at least a month. The previous time had been just in passing.

"You look weak," were the first words he'd said when she returned from Brantfield. Weak, yes, she knew that was how he saw her. Below his words she heard,
Katsuro never would've let this happen.
But maybe Katsuro died because he wasn't strong enough.
Who's weak now?
She shook her head, guilt clenched in her chest.

"Miss Takeda, your father will be with you in five minutes," the metallic voice announced.

"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around herself and held tight.
Don't shake. Don't look pathetic. Don't be weak.

After some time, most likely five minutes to the second, the door slid open. On the few occasions she'd come here in the past, she focussed on the hall behind, trying to glimpse any details or clues as to the Research Department's activities. Today, she only focused on the face of her father. She braced herself for the brunt of his displeasure.

Shinji Takeda smiled. "Fuyuko, I'm glad you've finally come to see me." He drew her into an embrace. It took her a few seconds to shake off the shock and wrap her arms around him.

"Hi, dad." Her voice trembled with the tears she fought back.

He released her and stepped back to look her in the eye. "Your mother and I have been worried about you. How have you been?"

"Still no powers." She watched for the look of disappointment, but nothing came. "Otherwise, I'm doing okay."

"Good. So what can I do for you?"

Moment of truth time. "I wanted to bring a friend to the house. Eir tells me a girl's night might be good for me, but it's kind of hard to do here with mandatory lights out. We were going to have some dinner here then go watch a movie. I wanted to ask your permission because I didn't want to disturb you."

He paused, but nothing indicated suspicion. "Tonight would be fine I think, but you'd best speak to your mother. I'm not sure if she had plans."

"I will. I thought I'd check with you first."

Her father nodded. "I see. Well, give her a call. She'll be at the office. You can tell her I should be home around six o'clock. Was there anything else?"

Can I have your clearance badge so I can watch Katsuro die?

"No, that was it. I'll see you later, dad."

He gave her a final hug and turned back to the door, which seemed to open of its own will to admit him. Fuyuko turned away and pounded on the elevator call button before the door clicked shut.

She rode the elevator to the dorm floor. If the ride lasted much longer, she'd bite through her lip. Her palms ached where her nails dug in.

The doors slid open. She half walked, half ran, to her room. The door slid behind her just as the tears began to flow. Why now? She'd been the dutiful daughter and he'd shown her nothing to earn her loyalty. Now, when she planned to betray him, he gives her the love she craved? Life had a sick sense of timing.

It didn't matter—couldn't matter. She'd set her course, now she just had to steer through it.

After getting hold of herself and splashing some water on her face, Fuyuko made her way to Angie's room.

"Who is it?" came Angie's voice through the intercom.

"It's Fuyuko."

The door slid open and Fuyuko entered. Angie sat on the bed, looking less than thrilled to see her.

"So did you speak to your parents?"

Fuyuko nodded.

"You're sure you want to go through with this?"

"I can't stop thinking about it. I hardly slept last night. If I don't find the answer to this, it's going to swallow me up. Believe me, I almost wish I'd never started this. But now that I have, I have to finish it."

"I guess I understand," Angie said. "But I want to go through this one more time, because you need to understand what you're getting yourself into."

"You're sending me into my father's mind. What's there to know?"

"First off, I'm not going to be there with you. In this case, I'm only acting as a bridge. Once you're in, you'll be entirely on your own. You need to remember a couple of rules."

"Shoot."

Angie slammed her arms down in agitation. "You need to take this seriously. Do you understand, we're talking about the risk of brain damage. If you're father rejects your presence in his dream, he could begin throwing up defences that could stop you from escaping intact. I'm saying you could end up a vegetable."

"I need to risk it."

"And I think you're being foolish."

Fuyuko took a step closer to Angie. "So why did you risk it with Gwynn? I mean, if your job was just to keep him from dreaming, why take the risk of him rejecting you?"

"I told you, that was different." Angie turned her head away from Fuyuko. "I knew what I was doing."

"I know what I'm doing. You did agree to help me. Or is this you trying to back out?"

Angie glared at her. "When have I ever backed out on any promise I've made? I told you I would do it, and I will. It doesn't mean I'm not worried about it—about you."

"At this point, I'd rather risk it than spend the rest of my life wondering."

Angie's eyes softened and she nodded. "Fine. I just don't want you saying I didn't warn you."

"I won't."

Angie's lips curled into a sly smile. "So what should I wear for our date?"

They'd ducked down an alley before pressing the panic button on Jason's Tether.

"Do you think we'll be good here until they arrive?" Gwynn asked.

Jason shrugged. "Who knows? I mean, we don't even know who's following us. Did your tether get the signal?"

Gwynn looked at the watch-like thing on his arm. The face, supposed to flash red in response to an emergency alarm, remained dark.

"Njord said it would glow red and vibrate, right?" Gwynn asked.

"Yeah. It's not doing it?"

"No. Do you think it's because we're so close?"

"I don't know," Jason said. "I'm starting to think hiding in one spot waiting for backup might not be an option."

"So what's the plan?" Gwynn asked. "Do we make a break for it? If we cross the boundary around the town, whoever it is shouldn't be able to follow unless they have a tether for our world, right?"

"I guess that's how it works. But that means crossing half the town and another two kilometres on nothing but open ground. God, this would be so much easier if we could just Fold out."

"We could stand and fight."

Jason shook his head. "There's civilians around. We could start a panic or end up involving local authorities, which isn't such a big deal in our world, cause we know people, but here…"

"We're on our own."

"I think so," Jason said. "It's not doing us any tactical favours, but your plan is probably best. Unless of course they have a tether for our world."

"Just let me try…" Gwynn pressed the two buttons on his tether. A note flashed on the face indicating an emergency signal sent. He looked expectantly at Jason's tether, but its face remained dark. "It said the signal was sent."

"Mine did too. Ok, we'll walk like nothing's going on until we hit the city limits. Once we hit open ground, we run full out until we cross the boundary line. Good?"

Gwynn nodded his agreement.

Jason edged toward the end of the alley, easing his head forward so he could see both ways. Signalling to Gwynn he didn't see any threat, they exited the alley and started on the most direct route out of town.

Jason broke the silence after a few minutes. "Do you notice we seem to be the only ones out here?"

Gwynn chanced a quick look at their surroundings. Realizing there weren't even cars moving on the road, he searched his memory for any trace of noise or human presence since leaving the alley. He couldn't think of any. The sun hung merrily in the sky, they were in an area with lots of housing and strip malls, and it was three-thirty in the afternoon.

"I think we're in bigger trouble than we thought," Gwynn said.

"You're probably right. So what are we thinking? Fallen, some local who doesn't want any off-worlders messing with his town, or maybe something totally different?"

"Or some combination of all the above. Who knows? So how do you want to play it—do we split up, or stick together?"

Jason's eyes went distant, calculating odds. "We stick together."

"Don't you think we should split and improve the odds of one of us making it back and warning the others?"

"No," Jason replied. "I think we stick together so we have better odds of winning and
both
making it back. Besides, so far there hasn't been any hostility. Maybe they're just scoping us out."

Jason had doubts, Gwynn heard it in his voice. So it came as no surprise when he felt the slightest of tears in the Veil as Jason leached energy into his muscles. Gwynn started to do the same. He kept the draw slow and steady, trying not to mask his sense of the energies being drawn behind them. He hadn't said it to Jason yet, but he felt more than one tear. Whoever was following them wasn't alone.

The air changed. Heaviness pressed on Gwynn, not from above, but from behind—the direction of their pursuers. It drove forward, streaking toward them like…

Xanthe lashed out like a serpent, shattering an arrow of light into oblivion. Gwynn stepped behind Jason, Xanthe writhing in the air like a ribbon caught in a hurricane. Arrows of light, moving faster than Gwynn himself could keep track, were knocked from the sky.

"Go!" Gwynn yelled.

His entire time at Suture, Gwynn had been run through combat exercises. Scenarios ranged from fighting multiple combatants alone to fighting in pairs, groups, and so on. He reached for his training now, trying to remember Njord's instructions. A searing pain in his shoulder broke his concentration—an arrow had pierced through Xanthe's defences.

Screw this
, he thought.
I'm going to get myself killed.

Xanthe snapped back to its sword length, following his intentions. Gwynn turned, forcing the accumulated Veil energies into his legs, and launched himself into the air, landing on the roof of the building he'd been standing next to.

A
crack
sounded right beside his head, where Jason's whip had struck an arrow away.

They didn't speak, only moved. There would be time for thanks when the threat was gone.

Running at highway speeds, they launched themselves from rooftop to rooftop.

See if you can follow a bouncing target, asshole.

Their pursuers ceased their assault and fanned out. Gwynn felt their energies moving through the Veil. Perhaps they didn't realize they were dealing with two Scripts, because they were doing nothing to mask themselves—every tear in the Veil betrayed a location.

To the left, about a kilometre, another half a kilometre to the right. Behind, at least two tears, maybe two kilometres back. Another, behind, holy shit!

Gwynn twisted, lashing out blindly with Xanthe, which flew up and smacked the assailant aside like a bug. He'd managed only a glancing blow, and they were on their feet, hatchets in each hand. She—based on how she filled her armour it was definitely a she—launched at Gwynn.