Authors: Adrian Howell
“I am also wanted,” said Willow, lighting up a cigarette, “ever since my cover was blown two months ago. That’s why I’m stuck in here.”
“You were a spy?” asked Ed Regis, who had been listening to our conversation from the side.
“A tourist, a scout, a spy, whatever you want to call it,” Willow replied casually. She puffed on her cigarette for a moment. “Now I’m forever on the camera crew, which I’m sure you know by now is one of the least-sought-after positions inside the Resistance.”
We laughed.
“Still, it was worth it,” said Willow, giving her mildly bulging belly a light pat. “At least I got the bastard who killed my husband.”
“Are you really supposed to be smoking?” I asked. “Doesn’t it hurt the baby?”
“I’m trying very hard to cut down,” replied Willow, eyeing her cigarette distastefully. She gave it one more long drag and then snubbed it out. “I’ve managed to limit myself to three or four a day.”
Willow was almost four months pregnant with the child of her late husband. I wondered if she was really going to have her baby right here in Twenty Point Five. More likely, she would be escorted out on a phantom train before much longer.
“I suppose a little smoke wouldn’t make a big difference in a place like this,” I said, still not used to the musty air and various unpleasant fragrances. “But at least they could have given you the day shift.”
“Actually, I requested the night shift,” said Willow. “The day shift is much busier.”
I learned from Willow that the majority of Resistance operatives, including the camera-crew Knights, were cleared for active tourist duty. This was because Proton carefully recruited people unknown to the Angels, usually from distant Guardian settlements and small independent factions like Wood-claw. (The exceptions to this policy included necessary VIPs such as intelligence officers, former New Haven security technicians, and the occasional celebrity Knight like Terry Henderson or Adrian Howell.) Most of the tourists hid in plain sight in and around the Lumina area, doing everything from running local coffee shops to working in the maintenance crews of the Angel-owned buildings.
“That’s how we regained control of many of the cameras,” said Willow. “Supposedly, we even have a few tourists inside Lumina Prime and in the Department of Allegiance.”
“Supposedly?” I repeated.
“Well, only Proton and Jacob know who and where everyone is, of course,” said Willow. “The rest of us are better off not knowing. After all, captured tourists can endanger everyone connected to them.”
“What about Angel spies in our ranks?” asked Ed Regis.
“Uncommon,” said Willow. “There’re so few of us in Lumina that our organization is much harder to penetrate than theirs. But that doesn’t mean they don’t try. The worst case we had was back in July when the Seraphim managed to infiltrate one of our safe houses in Septimus. We lost nine of our men there, including two of our best blood runners.” Willow looked longingly at her pack of cigarettes on her desk, but didn’t reach for it. “Still, it could have been worse. They didn’t even find the other safe house in the same building.”
“And you still use that building?” said Ed Regis, who had camera access to the lobby of Septimus.
“We’re more careful about it now, but yes,” Willow said lightly. “Proton says to always assume that there are at least two spies somewhere in the Resistance. But I can guarantee that the Seraphim have never gotten into Twenty Point Five.”
“How can you be so sure of that?” I asked skeptically.
Willow smiled. “Because we’re all still here.”
“That’s reassuring.” I couldn’t help my sarcasm.
Willow laughed, and I asked her hesitantly, “What happens if the Seraphim do attack us?”
“It depends on how they attack,” she replied with a shrug, “but we have a few ways to get out.”
Ed Regis threw me a grin. “Thinking of doing another nosedive into a dumpster?”
“Saved your life, didn’t it?” I reminded him.
Willow said, “Don’t worry too much. We’ve been around for a while now. These days, we’re usually pretty good at spotting Angel spies well before they know it. That’s how we managed to feed the Seraphim the idea that our command center is in Quintus rather than Nonus.”
I remembered the family that was arrested on my first day here. “So you use their own spies against them?”
Willow nodded. “Whenever possible. The thing with Lumina now is that the Angel population is expanding so quickly there’s a lot of chaos. And where there’s chaos, there’re openings. That means opportunities for us.”
Opportunities like the ones Willow was referring to always came with risks. While camera crew might be one of the least-sought-after positions here, it was undoubtedly one of the safest. At greater risk were the tourists, and at even greater risk were the blood runners.
Despite Proton’s original plan, neither James nor Ed Regis was assigned to tourist duty. The Guardian intelligence team had deemed both unfit for outdoor work in Lumina. James was the son of two Guardian Knights and Ed Regis had been a senior member of the Wolves, meaning there was a good chance the Seraphim would recognize them both. Disguises were considered, but since having them work in the surveillance room allowed more qualified tourists to work outside, Mark told them that they would remain on the camera crew for the foreseeable future.
But for Alia, blood runner it was.
There were only two psionic healers in the Resistance aside from my sister, so I could understand Proton’s demand and even Mark’s agreement with making her a blood runner. But I wasn’t at all happy.
“You wanted to come,” I reminded Alia when she insisted on getting my permission. “It’s your risk to accept, Alyssa.”
“I want to help the people here, Richard,” said Alia. “But I know you don’t want me going out there.”
Just because she could see right through me didn’t mean I was going to admit it. “You’re a Guardian Knight,” I said, patting her back. “Do what you have to.”
The deal was finalized near the end of our first week in Twenty Point Five. Being of school age, Alia’s blood running would have to be restricted to weekends and weekday evenings, but even that, according to Proton, was a great help. The other two blood-runner healers were stationed at other safe houses, and they too could only work within specific timeframes.
“This expands our coverage of the city considerably,” said Proton. “We’ve already lost too many operatives to the Seraphim simply because we couldn’t reach them in time.”
Alia’s disguise was exactly as Mark had originally suggested: She would walk through Lumina as Raider’s only child, Marion. Alia had to dye her hair a little lighter and lengthen it with a wig. I was skeptical about the wig at first, but outside was cold enough to merit a knit cap that hid the evidence well. Marion was on the tall side for a second grader, and aside from their shoe sizes, their clothes were a spot-on match. Once Alia was properly dressed, the only real difference between her and Marion was that Alia was psionic. But being inside Cindy’s hiding bubble, as long as she didn’t walk right next to any finders, healers or telepaths, she would be okay.
But the clothes were just one part of it. After all, the real Marion couldn’t be seen outside at the same time as her double. Fortunately, Raider’s converted Angel wife was a hardcore businesswoman who often spent days, sometimes as long as a week, out of Lumina. Raider’s tourist cover was that of a handyman. This allowed him plenty of freedom to move about the Angel city whenever he needed to, and he had a special understanding with his daughter about “Mommy’s problem.” Put simply, Marion was a Guardian Resistance tourist too.
Still on the night shift, 4pm was early morning for me, but I was wide awake for Alia’s first training mission. It was just one lap around Lumina with Raider to hold her hand. I trusted Raider a lot more than I liked him, but even so, I had plenty of doubts.
Terry and I followed Alia up to Raider’s living room, where Marion quietly sat with a Guardian-appointed babysitter.
“Wish me luck, Addy,”
Alia whispered into my mind as she hugged me one last time.
“You don’t need luck,” I told her. “You’ve got Cindy watching out for you. You’ll be fine.”
Raider gave me a reassuring look and said, “The Seraphim won’t bother checking a child her size too closely, especially since she’s with me. Don’t worry. I will guarantee Alyssa’s safety.”
“On your life,” I informed him.
Raider grinned. “What did I tell you about trust, kid?”
As I watched them leave, I muttered under my breath, “I am really getting tired of people calling me kid.”
“Come on,” said Terry, pulling on my hand. “Let’s go watch the monitors.”
We did. I watched Raider take my sister through the park and out to the local supermarket. I watched them return with bags of groceries. I held my breath every time they passed someone on the sidewalk. As I watched them, I told myself over and over that this wasn’t so different from the time we sent Alia out to help Samuel’s heart surgery. I told myself that Alia was a soldier, and that I had allowed her to accept this risk, which she had every right to accept even without my consent.
“You do realize that this is just a training mission, don’t you?” said Terry, watching me with amusement.
“Huh?” was my unfocused response.
“Come on, Richard! This is nothing compared to what she’s already done.”
That was as true as it was irrelevant. Sure, Alia had been through plenty of tighter spots than a milk run to a nearby store, but the thing about taking risks is that the law of averages eventually catches up with you. How much you have survived in the past is no indicator of what could happen in the next five seconds.
As I watched Alia and Raider chatting their way back to Nonus, I couldn’t help but think of how Cindy had so loathed the idea of me joining Guardian missions with Terry. Now I finally understood what Cindy had felt as she watched me leave for the Holy Land. My sister was walking amongst Angel Seraphim right now, and all I could do was watch her through a camera. It was a truly humbling experience to discover how much worse that felt than being out there myself.
Alia returned safely to Nonus Twenty Point Five with a carton of fresh milk and a bag of chocolate chip cookies.
“See?” I said as we shared the cookies in the surveillance room. “I knew you’d be fine out there.”
Alia laughed.
“Liar!”
Now that she was officially a blood runner, Alia, who had often been staying up with me during the night shift, readjusted her sleep schedule to ensure that she was awake and ready for a real blood run with Raider.
The first one came near the end of November. A pair of tourists had been discovered by the Seraphim. One of them had managed to escape alive, but he had suffered severe burns on his upper body as well as taken a focused telekinetic blast to his right arm. Raider quietly escorted Alia out to a Resistance safe house located in the basement of a coffee shop where the injured tourist had taken refuge.
Again, I breathlessly watched their progress from the surveillance room. Alia returned all smiles, as she did from two more blood runs during the first half of December. I began to get a little used to it. I was mildly amused to discover that on her blood runs, Alia always carried around the little pony doll that Candace had given her. If I was keeping my fears to myself, Alia was putting on her bravest face too.
In addition to the actual blood runs, Raider periodically took Alia out on training missions, walking her around Lumina and visiting safe houses in every building that had them. One of the reasons for this was to familiarize Alia with the Resistance network in case she got separated from Raider. Alia, despite having no mental blocking training, wasn’t considered a security risk simply because no one in their right mind would delve a child. According to Alia, some of the locations she visited were new even to Raider.
Since Alia’s second mission, James had kindly swapped his day shift with me so that I could be up during my sister’s blood-running hours. Willow had warned me, but the day shift was considerably busier than the night. There were many more people outside that we had to watch and log, not to mention the frequent parroting of announcements on the human intercom system.
Alia often sat with Terry and me during our day shifts. She didn’t have many other places to be, anyway, so she worked as part-time camera crew. The first snow fell in early December, and we sometimes saw Patrick Land and a few of his school friends having snowball fights in the park. I could tell that Alia longed to be out there, but she watched the monitors and said nothing.
In the after-school hours, we would also catch glimpses of the real Marion outside playing with her friends or walking with her father. Many of our cameras were shared by Angel security elsewhere, so I made my sister study Marion’s manner carefully. Marion liked to skip and let her long hair dance about as she walked. Alia did her best to imitate this. Even from a fair distance, I could always tell the difference between Marion and Alia, but I was relieved to see that, at least in their heavy winter jackets, the girls looked convincingly identical on the video.
Over the weeks, Alia had become very close to Raider and to her body double. Raider even jokingly called Alia his “other daughter,” which greatly eased my mind since I knew he would look after her with his life, and I had asked for nothing less. Marion, who looked up to Alia like a big sister, sometimes came down into Twenty Point Five to play. In turn, Alia and I occasionally spent time with Marion up in Raider’s condo, secretly cooking up proper meals when we could no longer stand the prison-grade food in Twenty Point Five’s mess hall. Whenever I could get someone to cover the day shift for me in the surveillance room, we spent the whole day up there, which allowed me to enjoy the sunlight through the windows in Raider’s living room. Even a winter sun was much better than none at all.
Just about any lifestyle can become routine. Even one in a place like Nonus Twenty Point Five. But things were still moving along outside and everywhere. Before the end of the year, Mark had dinner (breakfast for James and Ed Regis) with us in the mess hall where he gave us a report on the information we had provided upon our arrival.