The Far Shores (The Central Series) (12 page)

Paul laughed heartily,
turning his face briefly to the sky.

“You are most
perceptive, Chief Auditor. You are, of course, quite correct – the
Committee-at-Large had your people expelled from the Academy largely due to
their belief that your presence had drawn the attention of the Anathema.
Certainly, there are those among the Far Shores community who follow the same
reasoning. While I have striven to avoid any militarization of the Far Shores,
the potential and the benefits that you and your people’s arrival offered
offset any potential risks – both in my own estimation, and in that of Dr. Hsang.”

Alice glanced over
curiously.

“How so?”

“Your own presence, for
example. If you will forgive me for saying so, Alice, you are a
most
remarkable being.”

Alice tapped ash onto
the sand, her smile wavering.

“I suppose I forgive
you. Depending on your meaning.”

“Fear not, Miss Gallow.
I have no hidden agenda. You simply excite my curiosity – you are quite unique.
In the history of Central, I would hazard a guess that there has never been
another quite like you – and the same could be said of your Black Protocol.”

“I’m surprised you know
about that,” Alice said thoughtfully. “Rebecca Levy generally makes sure no one
asks too many questions on that issue.”

“Including yourself,
under normal circumstances, as I understand it,” Dr. Graaf said blithely, as if
they were discussing the weather. “These are far from normal circumstances,
though, are they not? And, I might add, as a former instructor of Miss Levy,
and a confidant of the Director, I have been exempted from certain machinations
to which I might otherwise be subjected. I know a great deal about you, Alice –
perhaps more, in some areas, than you do about yourself. It has long been my
fervent hope that we might pool our knowledge for our collective betterment.
Your coming here presented a perfect opportunity to realize this ambition. You
see, I have made something of a study of the principles underlying protocols
and their use – and it is my belief that Black Protocols like your own serve to
elucidate the very nature of the protocols, and the underlying function of the
nanites that power them. By making a study of the exceptional, Chief Auditor, I
believe that we can come to an understanding of the commonplace. Additionally,
the history of Central is something of a hobby of mine – and that is a history
in which you have played a most intriguing role.”

Alice smoked and
considered.

“Interesting. I’m
starting to understand why we might not have gotten on in the past, Doc.”

Dr. Graaf held up his
hands and offered a placating smile.

“Please, give me the
benefit of the doubt. I know that you must harbor suspicions, but I assure you
that I am being frank in attempt to prove the absence of a hidden agenda on my
part. I mean you no harm, Chief Auditor. I intend no one harm. I aim simply for
the pursuit of knowledge – because I believe that knowledge is, in and of
itself, a good thing, and because the pursuit of it pleases me. I have no other
motivation, no sinister ambition.”

Alice ran a hand through
her hair, remembering that it was almost time to dye it again. She touched up
the roots near her part daily, of course, but it was necessary to regularly
apply black dye to the whole of it to avoid any inconsistencies in tone or
shade.

“We will revisit that at
some point in the future, Paul. For the moment – you said you had some interest
in my people as well?”

“Yes. I confess that we
have long considered the prospect of inviting students to the Far Shores,
rather than simply recruiting promising graduates of the Academy. It was my
thought that you might be able to persuade the Director to transfer a few of
the students that have particularly attracted our interests, assuming that we
could make it worth your while, and convince you of the harmless nature of our
intentions. As it turns out, however, it seems that you have brought one of the
very objects of interest with you already.”

Alice sighed.

“Let me guess...”

Dr. Graaf chuckled.

“It is as you suspect.
We have an abiding curiosity regarding one Alexander Warner...”

“Are you
sure this is a good idea?”

“No. I was expelled from
one school already, dummy. This is probably a terrible idea.”

“Great.”

Katya’s eyes sparkled
with obvious delight beneath the brim of her baseball cap, her ponytail poking
out of the opening in the mesh back. She wore a dark-blue sweatshirt and black
jeans, while Alex was dressed similarly in a hooded sweatshirt and grey cargo
pants, as she had specified. He was pressed against an interior wall in an
empty room on the first floor of the Audits building, beside the window where
Katya crouched, fiddling with the locking mechanism holding it in place.

“Oh, come on. This’ll be
fun.”

“Sure. Fun. Why are we
doing this, again?”

Katya made a satisfied
noise as something in the window frame gave way with a quiet pop, succumbing to
her determined manipulations, using a thin, flexible piece of metal and
something that looked like a hooked dental tool.

“Because we don’t have
anything else to do,” Katya said, pausing to glance at him as if he had said
something stupid. “And I wanna know why they have us locked down in this
building. If they don’t have anything to hide, why can’t I take a walk around?”

“I don’t know, and I’m
pretty sure I don’t care. Security, maybe?”

“Security? We’re Auditors,
for God’s sake. Security is nothing to us.”

“Um, we aren’t actually
Auditors, yet.”

“Close enough.”

“I’m not sure that’s
true...”

“Hold this,” Katya said,
passing him the locking mechanism somehow completely removed from the window
frame she was pushing open. “And man up, would you? I don’t need you whining
the whole time.”

Alex sighed and pocketed
the fixture.

“Then why are you
bringing me?”

Katya giggled while she
popped the window screen loose, knocking it onto newly laid sod beneath the
window.

“Comic relief. C’mon.
Let’s go.”

Alex followed Katya out
the window, dropping to the sod himself as quietly as possible, then scurrying
after Katya into the deep shadow cast by the building. He couldn’t understand
the logic behind it, but he was more nervous than he had been during his first
mission with the Auditors. It might have been counterintuitive, but despite
having spent a large portion of his life locked up, Alex didn’t really have much
experience breaking the rules.

There had been the trip
to San Francisco with Eerie, of course – but he had done that out of desire to
impress a girl he liked, rather than going on along with some strange impulse
of Katya’s. And look how that had ended – Alex fell into the hands of the Weir
and was brutalized, and a pitched battle left Edward dead and him further in
the debt of one Anastasia Martynova. The experience hadn’t done much to improve
his opinion of illicit behavior. Even his semi-authorized rooftop birthday
party had ended in violence and trauma. Following Katya closely and acutely
aware of how much noise his footfalls made – particularly when he couldn’t even
hear Katya’s footsteps at all – Alex was increasingly unsure why he had gone
along with her idea.

Katya was manifestly
disinterested in him – and even if she wasn’t, the Black Sun assassin wasn’t
his type. So it wasn’t to impress the girl, even if he did consider her
something of a friend – maybe even his only friend, as far as the Audits department
went. He didn’t have any inherent affection for acts of rebellion, and while he
was bored, a PlayStation or a Netflix account would have done a great deal more
to alleviate that feeling than sneaking around the Far Shores campus at night.

He followed Katya from
the shadows of one building to another, glad that outdoor lighting was not
nearly the priority that it was back at the Academy. Unfortunately, building on
the uninhabited Fringe meant that space was not at a premium, and therefore the
distance between the buildings was fairly large, and the tree cover that was
common at the Academy was entirely absent. Crouched behind a cinderblock
enclosure for a green dumpster, Alex noticed for the first time that the
buildings at the Far Shores were not made from the ubiquitous grey stone from
which the majority of Central was constructed. The buildings here were made of
modern materials – concrete, drywall, and stucco – and none appeared to be
repurposed older structures that predated the current occupants of Central. He
was stunned to realize that the Far Shores campus represented the largest
collection of wholly new structures that he had seen in Central.

They moved in fits and
spurts according to Katya’s instructions and awareness, keeping to the shadows
and the eastern edge of the campus, close to the low, barren hills of the
Fringe. The buildings they passed were uniform in construction and simple in
design, all multistory, generally including a few attached and outlying
structures that were likely garages, service bays, and the like. There were
signs of a recent drive toward landscaping, with a great deal of new sod placed
at intervals between wide concrete sidewalks and prolific asphalt bike paths. A
road attached the buildings, large enough for a single lane of traffic, so Alex
assumed the residents did most their travel via foot or bicycle. There were no
trees and no plants other than the freshly laid grass.

The Audits building was
offset from the rest of campus, separated by an undeveloped hillside from the
next building. It was situated near the southern edge of the facility, so they
headed north, toward the denser concentration of structures. As they went, Alex
noticed two things: the two smokestacks in the distance just beyond the Far
Shores compound, silhouetted by their own powerful halogen lights; and a sandy
beach on to the west. Alex glanced in the beach’s direction repeatedly before
he was able to put his finger on exactly what was wrong with it – namely, he
could neither hear the waves, despite being quite close, nor could he see any
lights reflecting off the water.

“Katya!” Alex hissed,
motioning her behind a utility enclosure next to one of the identical
buildings.

“What?” Katya’s face was
bright was excitement, even if she did sound a bit annoyed at the interruption.
“Did you see someone?”

“No. What’s up with the
ocean?”

“The ocean? What do
you…oh. I get it. There’s no ocean, Alex. We’re in Central. There’s no coast
here.”

“But that looks like a
beach…”

“Oh, it is. But not a
beach along the water.”

“Then what?”

“The Ether.”

***

“I will freely admit that this is a
conversation that I never expected to have.”

“As for myself, I never
gave up hope. Nonetheless, I understand why you might not be thrilled. The
involuntary nature of our reunion, however, is no reason for there to be
animosity between us.”

“Agreed. Particularly
not when there are so many other valid reasons.”

Brennan Thule laughed
agreeably.

“Let go of the past,
Director. Our alliance has already borne fruit. Why not accentuate the
positive?”

“Precisely because I
have no intention of disregarding the past actions of your cartel.”

“Now, now. If not for
your intervention, Uncle…”

Gaul flinched, then the
blue eyes behind his glasses hardened.

“Do
not
call me
that.”

“…we would have faced
sanction. Whether you appreciate it or not, Director, you have our gratitude.
And our loyalty.”

“For what it is worth.”

“You are too harsh! Our
disagreements were philosophical. The Thule Cartel has never been regarded as
treacherous, even by our detractors. If circumstances had been different, we would
have likely been regarded as pioneers.”

“Or as Anathema,” Gaul
offered darkly, rubbing his temples. “Without my intervention, your cartel
could very well have been judged as such.”

Brennan Thule took a sip
of chamomile tea and nodded.

“True. Due largely, in
my opinion, to provincial and knee-jerk conservative mindsets – but true
nonetheless. For which, as I mention, you have our undying loyalty. A rare
commodity in Central these days, as I understand it, and one that I suggest you
employ.”

Gaul finished collating
the paperwork on his desk, stapled it together, and then put it in his “Out”
tray. The majority of the staff primarily used workstations, but in an act of
deliberate perversity, Gaul insisted that all high-level Academy activities
required official forms and wet-ink signatures – despite the fact that he was a
node on the Etheric Network himself. He found something satisfying in filing
out a well-designed form, and took even more satisfaction in infuriating
Rebecca, who despised paperwork almost as much as she did smoking bans.

“I would not have
engineered your return if I did not see a purpose for your cartel. Tell me – what
is the Thule Cartel’s standing in the Hegemony, now that your period of exile
is at an end?”

“Vastly improved,”
Brennan responded, crossing his legs and toying with the tassels on his
extraordinarily expensive loafers. “Many of our former rivals have diminished,
or even disappeared entirely, during our absence. Only the North Cartel wields
more power, and due to their rather authoritarian use of said influence, more
of the independent cartels would be inclined to side with us, in the event of a
disagreement.”

“You feel that you are
positioned well enough to influence Hegemonic policy?”

“As is necessary,”
Brennan said, drinking tea while he considered it. “We hold few official
offices, of course, due to our long absence, and there is obeisance to be made,
relationships to rekindle. Still, as you saw during the last meeting of the
Committee-at-Large, we can command a significant number of votes – and that
number will only grow with time. We did not waste our exile in Reykjavik, and
we are in a position to distribute favors.”

Gaul sighed and pushed
his glasses up on his nose, before continuing with obvious reluctance.

“And what of your
father?”

“He is well enough. He
still feels the shame of disappointing you rather acutely, I am afraid. He has
elected to remain in Iceland for the time being.”

“Just as well,” Gaul
said, with relief.

“I would assume he will
remain there, until you are willing to forgive him. Tell me, Uncle – are you
willing?”

Brennan leaned forward,
his eyes full of sincerity.

“Not at this point,”
Gaul said, shaking his head dismissively. “And do not call me that.”

“Very well, Director.
But I entreat you to consider the matter. David Thule is a sick man. He does
not have much time left, and it would pain him to depart this world without
exchanging words with his brother.”

“Enough!” Gaul snapped,
raising his voice and cowing Brennan with a fierce glare. “I will hear no more
of this matter. Understood?”

“Absolutely.”

“I did not bring you
here for idle chatter, nor did I engineer the Thule Cartel’s return from exile
out of sentimentality. I have work for you,” Gaul said, selecting a red file
folder from the carefully arranged stack on his desk, and tossing it across the
expanse of walnut, where Brennan eagerly picked it up to inspect the contents. “Work,
I might add, that must be kept secret.”

“Of course,” Brennan
said, perusing the files. “I was curious, Director. What of the younger
Martynova? Anastasia, I believe? I was surprised that she supported your motion
in the Committee, and equally surprised that she would support an action that
might conceivably strengthen the Hegemony at the expense of her own cartel.
Does she not share her father’s ambitions?”

“If anything,” Gaul said
grimly, “she exceeds him – in that respect, as every other. She is dangerous.
Never let your guard down in regard to Anastasia Martynova.”

Brennan glanced up in
surprise.

“But, surely…she is
merely a child, Director!”

“She is far from a
child,” Gaul muttered. “As a matter of fact, it is entirely possible that she
never was to begin with.”

“As you say,” Brennan
agreed dutifully. “Nonetheless, she appeared to act in concert with your will…”

“When it suits her
purposes, Anastasia Martynova can be an extremely potent ally. Though she
always extracts the better end of any bargain. She desires stability in Central
for the time being, however, so we have a working relationship.”

Brennan nodded, setting
his empty mug on the side table next to his chair.

“I understand. You must
be aware, though, that this relationship creates tension among a certain
segment of the Hegemony. There are whispers that you show her too much favor,
are too free offering privileges to the Black Sun.”

“Nonsense,” Gaul
snorted. “My only loyalty is to the well-being of Central.”

“I have heard it
suggested,” Brennan continued, with the quiet satisfaction that comes from
goading a caged animal, “that you have been co-opted. Rumor says that Anastasia
Martynova manipulates you, as she does the members of her cartel. Much of this
speculation focuses on the uncertain nature of her rumored Deviant Protocol.”