“No. Never have. Bad for you.”

  “You’re unreal. I bet you never did drugs either.” Jesi shook his head. “No wonder you were going to kill yourself. How do you get through a normal day?”

  “Deep faith and fantastic sex,” he said, smirking over Ajui’s head at me.

  “Right. So how will you get through a normal day now?”

  Jesi stared down at the little prick. “I’ll get back to you on that. Anyway—no booze. Coffee or milk, or I have some protein shakes....” Ajui made a retching noise. “That’d be a ‘no’ to the shakes. Coffee?”

  “Cream?”

  “And sugar. And cookies, just in case.” They were going to need more food, for real.

  The process of teaching Jesi how to build strong mental shields was boring for him and for me, but slightly to my surprise, Ajui was a patient teacher, and not bad at what he was doing.

  “Where did you learn how to do this?” Jesi asked when they took a break—I could tell by his wrinkled forehead he had a headache.

  “You know where. Keril’s got a fucking big mouth, and so does your dead boyfriend.” Ajui gulped back almost an entire glass of milk—they’d already got through two plates of cookies and Jesi had just offered to make early lunch.

  “Parido was just trying to help,” I said.

  Ajui ran his hand over his clipped hair and winced. “He didn’t. You think you know me, don’t you, Gonlimi? Know what I am? You know shit.”

  “I don’t think I know you,” Jesi said, not stopping as he sliced bread. “I was as surprised as Nev to hear about these prisons. I can’t imagine what it was like, because I wasn’t subjected to it. If you want to tell me about it, go ahead. But if you don’t, then don’t.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Fine. So how am I doing?”

  “Okay,” he admitted grudgingly. “But it’s not natural, how fast you’re picking this up. I reckon if the ESF could find their arses with both hands, you would have seen the inside of one of their fucking camps same as me.”

  Jesi paused, blinked. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, lover boy, there isn’t just one paranormal in your family. I don’t know what you are, but you ain’t normal. Makes it easier for me, but you better hope the spooks in ESF don’t find out about you.”

  Jesi resumed his preparations, a thoughtful expression on his face. I didn’t know what this meant, or even if Ajui was right—but after what I’d learned today about the ESF, it meant that once this mission was over, Jesi’s choices could be a whole lot more limited than I thought they already were. Any sort of government security work would be right out. But Jesi had been in security—army, then the ESF—since he was a teenager. It was what he knew. I knew he wasn’t thinking about his future, but I wanted him to be happy—and happy meant having a job he loved. But all things considered, it was just as well he’d resigned.

  They ate a healthier lunch than Ajui would have eaten left to himself, and about three times what Jesi and me would have made for ourselves. Then back to testing. It was getting more painful for Jesi, because now Ajui wasn’t holding back. He threw everything in his telepathic armoury at Jesi, trying to break his shields, read his mind, and force him to react unthinkingly. Sweat broke out on Jesi’s forehead as he resisted, and Ajui’s skinny little face twisted up as he pushed and pushed, but it was stalemate.

  Finally, it was Jesi who cracked with a grunt and a raised hand. “Need a break,” he said hoarsely. “And painkillers.”

  “Make it two,” Ajui said. He looked rather grey. Couldn’t accuse him of not working hard.

  Jesi went off to find the painkillers. Ajui ignored the snacks on the table and laid his head down on his folded arms. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like being telepathic, or what building these shields was like. Since it seemed to be a physical thing, I guessed I never would find out either.

  They worked grimly on for another two hours, until Parido flickered back into view, and grabbed my arm. “Tinu?”

  “Oh thank fuck,” Ajui said, sitting up. “Keril, tell him to let me have a Moxi. Please, I need it. My head’s falling apart.”

  “Gonlimi, let him have one.”

  Jesi frowned as he pulled the pill bottle out. “I’d have let you have one if you’d asked,” he said, handing Ajui a capsule.

  “Keril said no,” Ajui said, tossing the pill back with the rest of the milk.

  Jesi raised his eyebrows, looked at me. I just shrugged. I wasn’t getting involved in their dynamic.

  “Will he do?” Parido asked his lover.

  “Yeah. Our boy’s one of us, Keril,” Ajui said, looking at Jesi with a fond expression that made me queasy. “A freak, same as you and me. Natural shields—ever heard of that?”

  “No,” Parido said thoughtfully, looking Jesi over like he was an interesting bug. “But it’s just as well. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  The plan he’d come up with was a simple one, but it was going to be an absolute bitch to put into action. The first thing he did was have Jesi book train tickets and accommodation at the shrine, for which he had to pay obscene amounts of money—none of us wanting to risk attracting the attention of the Marauders by using Ajui’s funds, at least not yet. At sunrise on the fifth, a ‘ceremony of hope’ was to be held, and all the pilgrims who could come—the invitation from the shrine’s official information page emphasised that this was expected to be ‘of particular benefit to those travellers who had been abandoned by traditional medicine’—were to congregate on the shores of the lake, and enter the water to ‘receive the healing spirit’.

  “That you or me?” I asked Parido. He didn’t dignify that with a response.

  “Where are the main players going to be?” Jesi asked. The only map we had was a crappy holopict he’d downloaded from the site, and was now displayed before us on the table. There were some simplistic 3-D models indicating the main shrine, the hotel and medical accommodation, and other facilities, but it was clear that people were supposed to get more information once they arrived. Parido was doing his best to describe the layout.

  “There’s a chamber here, in the middle of the lake. Access is via an underwater tunnel. Heavily guarded.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s another entrance?” Jesi asked.

  “Unfortunately not. With a fully-equipped team, you could probably force your way in....”

  “But we don’t have a fully-equipped team,” Jesi said, sitting back with a sigh. “Nev?”

  “Can we drop in from above? Bomb it?” Jesi had a pilot’s license, but no access to a ‘copter or the explosives. Not yet, anyway. “You could fly in—maybe drop Ajui in to plant mines—”

  “Fuck no,” Ajui yelped.

  “Can you fly a ‘copter?”

  “Maybe,” he said cautiously. “I did a simulator once.”

  “Not...exactly...enough,” Jesi said carefully, so not to set him off. “Then the only way is to smuggle ourselves in among the guards. Parido, got any ideas how we could do that?”

  “Catering and laundry are holes in their security. I think you can get into the place that way, in one of the vans.”

  “Well, that’s not obvious or anything,” I said sarcastically.

  “Obvious or not, it is a weakness I’ve identified,” Parido said, giving me a cold glare. “Feel free to come up with an alternative.”

  “Oh, I will, you can count on it.”

  Jesi held his hand up to shut us up. “Parido, just tell me what you’ve got. Nev, you should go and investigate when we’re done, see if you can see something Parido’s overlooked.” Parido shook his head with a smug grin, as if him screwing up was impossible. But he was the one who’d let his own team get him killed. He had no reason to be so self-satisfied.

  I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. The plan had as many holes in it as a colander and even though Parido and me would give the two of them access to information that having a team behind them would never do, having a team behind them would sure make it a lot safer for them. The only thing going for us was that the Exalted, as you could tell by their poncy name, went in for the theatrical, and there was potential for disguise and cover as a result. A fake ceremony on a floating stage on the water, some way closer in than the actual ceremonial chamber, was being set up like grand opera, costumes, lighting, the works, for the benefit of the crowds on the shore, who would be watching the entire thing on 3-D display and in living colour. The faithful were being kept a long way away from the real event, though.

  While Jesi and Ajui took another break—they were both exhausted from the work on the shields, and tired before that—Parido took me to see this shrine for myself, a process as simple as him ‘wanting’ to do so. Suddenly we were in mid-air looking down on this huge circular stone and metal and glass construction. Had to have cost millions, if not billions to make, and it hadn’t been put up yesterday either. It rose out of the lake like a small mountain, built on a natural rock formation but being nearly twice as high again. In the afternoon sun, the polished dome shone like pure gold.

  “Twenty years in the making,” Parido said, seeing my look. “And there are the deluded fools,” he said, pointing to our right.

  The shores of the huge and rather beautiful lake were spoiled by dozens of high-rise buildings, clearly built in a hurry to capitalise on the desperation of the dying. In the water were the sick, being bathed, supported, carried, some lying on special beds that were taken into the lake itself. There had to be several thousand people spread along the placid lake edge. The shrine was a large ugly building dwarfed by the high-rises, close to the shore. A steady stream of people flowed in and out, and thick dark smoke rose above it. On the water, about a hundred metres out from shore, the fake ceremony stage was moored. I could see what looked like firework barges tied to it. It was going to be a real extravaganza.

  Parido told me to ignore it. It would be useful as cover, but of no other importance. He pointed to the shrine proper. “The guards’ quarters and the service areas are under that—it’s directly connected with the real chamber.”

  And then we were there, right inside, and even though I knew we were invisible—to the point where hooded men in menacing dark red uniforms were walking right through us—it was still creepy and more than a little bit hair-raising. As a place to set an ambush, it sucked. The only place Jesi and Ajui would be able to manage it would be in the johns. They had to get to the johns in the first place. “This’ll never work,” I said flatly. “Where are they keeping the Bridges? Who else comes in and out?”

  The Bridges were heavily guarded, and Parido said they would only be moved to the chamber the night before the ceremony, so disabling them beforehand seemed unlikely. But he was right. Everything had been arranged to stop the Bridges getting out, but not very much had been done, by comparison, to stop anyone or anything getting in—at least, to the shrine.

  We spent a good two hours going over the place, and I was doing my best to build up a mental map so I could give Jesi the best intel possible. Three times, I was startled by the appearance of someone in front of us, who vanished just as quickly—two children, and a sad looking woman, popping through the walls and then disappearing.

  “Spirits,” Parido explained. “Get used to it—this is a place for the dying.”

  “You were going to explain why I didn’t see anyone on the other side. And when do I get to meet the big guys?”

  “When they’re ready to receive you. They can explain everything else, if they choose.”

  “Were you born this annoying or did you have to be trained?”

  He gave me a superior little smile. “I’d have thought you’d be used to being less well-informed than everyone else by now, Langse. People of lesser intellects always are.”

  Could have smacked him, really could have. But I needed his help, much as I hated to admit it, so I just curled my lip at him and moved on.

  There were so many ifs in the plan. If they could get into a catering or laundry van. If they weren’t discovered. If they could knock out two guards and get into the squad guarding the Bridges. But in the end, it wasn’t the ifs that bothered me the most. When I asked Parido to confirm my suspicions, and he did, then I did smack him. Punched him out and headed straight back to Jesi.

  I startled the pair of them, suddenly flicking back into sight, but I was too pissed to care. “He’s got no exit strategy!” I shouted. “There’s no fucking way you can get in and get out! And he doesn’t care!”

  Ajui looked at me in alarm, but Jesi didn’t seem surprised or worried. “Well, no, why would he? And I pretty much assumed this was a suicide mission, Nev. Look at the odds.”

  “Fuck the odds!” I bellowed. “You are not going to that shrine to die!”

  “Nev, I’m going to that shrine to save more than my own skin, but it’s my skin too in the long run, isn’t it? And yours and his and Ajui’s and everyone else’s. You’re proof there’s life after death. Why should I care if I die?”

  “No! Jes, I’ll have to watch.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “You think I don’t know what that’s like? It’s not ideal but—”

  “No! Ajui, are you happy for your lover to get you killed?”

  “He doesn’t need to die,” Jesi jumped in. “We just need one person to get into the room where the Bridges will be. If Ajui helps me get in, I’ll set them on a short timer. I might get out, Nev. It’s just not very likely.”

  “No! You’re not sacrificing yourself for this prick.”

  Ajui narrowed his eyes at me. “He’s not. He’s sacrificing himself for you. Not that I can understand why, but hey, no skin off my nose.”

  “Jesi! No, I can’t allow it.”

  “Love, you can’t stop it either,” Jesi said with an irritatingly patient look. “I am—was—a soldier. The risk of death is part of what I accepted with the job. Sometimes sacrifices get made. It’s not the first time I’ve gone on an apparently hopeless mission. I’m still here.”

  I clenched my fists in frustration. “And if you die and the plan still fails? The bombs don’t go off or something?”

  “Then Tinu is plan B,” Parido said from beside me, gripping my arm painfully. I turned to hit him, but he blocked me. “Knock it off, Langse. Your lover’s being sensible. How about you try it?”

  “Screw you.”

  “No thanks. Tinu, you know what’s at stake. You could get killed. It’s very likely, in fact.”

  Ajui swallowed, but his expression was determined. “I ain’t going in to die. But I ain’t no coward either. If the pansy boy can do it, so can I.”

  “Ajui, this isn’t a pissing contest,” Jesi said soberly. “You have to go in for your own reasons, and knowing what’s at stake. Otherwise I’ll leave you behind.”

  “You don’t get to make those choices, lover boy,” he snarled.

  “Tinun.” Parido was giving his man the hairy eyeball. “Either you both go in or it’s a waste of time. But if you both go in, you have to know the probability is seventy-eight percent that you’ll both die.”

  “What’s the probability of us pulling it off?” he whispered. The little prick was ash-white. Looked like he was about to puke or faint.

  “Sixty-three percent. It was higher before Langse here decided to deliver his little motivational lecture,” he added snidely.

  “Nev has a right to express his opinion, Parido,” Jesi said, glaring at him. “He’s my second. It’s what I would expect him to do every time. And suicide mission or not, I want as much information as possible, because if one or both of us can get out alive, then that’s all to the good. Nev, I know I can trust you to help me with that.”

  “You expect me to help you kill yourself?”

  “No, I expect you to try and help me not kill myself. Now, what did you find?”

  I wasn’t going to win this one, I realised with a sick slide of my gut. Jesi was going to sacrifice himself for the future of mankind, which was the kind of stupid thing we’d signed up to do when we joined the ESF, but it was different when it was him. Maybe if I trusted Ajui more, I’d have thought it was worth doing, but for Jesi to throw his life away without any of our people to watch his back just....

  I kept thinking, “Seventy-eight percent.” He was going to die unless I could find a way for him to get out of that ceremonial chamber in one piece.

  The rest of the afternoon, and into the early evening, plans were gone through, publicly available information pored over (and I was sorry that Jesi had resigned because I could bet that the exact floor plans of that shrine were in the ESF database somewhere), and decided how they would get hold of enough explosives to do the job (Ajui was going to have to make contact with some of the Marauders’ occasional suppliers.) Jesi and the prick also discussed how they were going to pass themselves off as lover and dying boyfriend—when I whined and asked why they couldn’t just be brothers, Jesi looked at Ajui, the size and colouring of him, and just grinned. “Don’t think so, Nev.”

  I tried to help but my heart wasn’t in it, and when Jesi went to bed—early, because all the mental shield stuff had drained him—I couldn’t help but make another try. But he wasn’t wearing it. “Nev, the welfare of the many outweighs the happiness of the one, you know that.”

  “You’re just too ready to die, Jesi. You want to get killed.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I admit that’s true. But I won’t be making any attempt to risk my life pointlessly. It’s all I can do.” I gave him an exasperated look but he wouldn’t budge. “Can you do me a favour?”

  “How? I’m kinda incorporeal right now.” Funny how I was picking up the vocab of being dead. I never knew there were so many words for being a ghost.

  “Exactly. So you can drop over to Luiz’s place and see how she is. I miss her,” he said quietly.

  “So do I but she treated you like shit so I’m not that wild to see her.”

  “Please?” he said, those soft brown eyes begging me.

  Like I had a chance of resisting that look. “All right,” I said with a heavy sigh. “But no one’ll be here to keep an eye on the prick.”

 

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