New world order, p.43
New World Order, page 43
part #6 of Crimson Shadow Series
Shame the Cebourists are too obsessed with burning mythos to discover tits, Xander thought.
The night had fallen over the makeshift dorms of “Stryker’s Vagrants”—a new “day” starting for the ragtag group of mythos—and many were beginning to migrate to-and-fro. Xander was pleased to say that he recognized some as members of the Trepis Clan who’d since returned to them. Among these, some had come back upon hearing that he hadn’t been killed while others had been convinced to return once again after seeing what a difference his efforts were making. Then there were the other mythos that had joined, many of whom had no training or expertise to offer as fighters but who otherwise had no other safe options. Xander, deciding that he would sooner build a community than a second-rate clan, accepted them all without question. But this, he knew, was hardly the most bizarre addition to their growing group. This he was reminded of as he walked by a small, nervous-looking cluster of humans. Though none of the others paid them any mind, it was obvious that they were still adjusting to being surrounded by creatures that, only a short time ago, lived only in the realms of fiction. It was an understandable reaction, but it was a fear that was wasted there—Xander made it clear to newcomers that intolerance either to other mythos or to humans wouldn’t be tolerated, and should that intolerance escalate to the realm of violence…
Well, Xander Stryker was still Xander Stryker.
“You look tired,” Xander said to them, trying to sound as pleasant and nonthreatening as possible. “Just because they’re all used to a nocturnal schedule doesn’t mean that you have to be.”
“But that Carrey-guy only teaches at night, right?” one of the humans, a young woman with shoulder-length, curly black hair, asked. She seemed nervous to ask this, and Xander could see on her aura that she was worried that he might think she was planning to learn the Cebourists’ magic so that she could use it against him and the rest of their group.
Xander offered a reassuring smile, knowing it would only unnerve her that much further to explain that he was now impervious to the effects of that magic. It pays to have a wife with such strong ties to the arts, he thought to himself, but, out loud to the humans, he said, “I’ll see if I can’t convince Allen to take a few morning shifts for you and any others who’d rather sleep at night, okay?”
The humans all smiled sheepishly at this, going so far as to bow their thanks to him. Xander watched this, perplexed, but offered a smile in return and nodded them towards one of the buildings furthest from the bustling activity, assuring them that the noise shouldn’t carry out that far. He turned away almost as soon as they did, not wanting them to catch him watching their retreat. Though that exchange had noticeably eased much of their concern, he knew it would be a while before they’d trust nonhumans to the degree he needed for a sense of community to blossom.
“I know we just got done talking about this,” Estella’s voice called out to him from behind, “but you’ve changed a great deal in such a short time.”
Xander barely had to stop and turn to face her for her to catch up to him. He smiled at her as they fell into a comfortable pace beside one another and headed for the storage facility.
“This is the part where you tell me what you mean instead of forcing me to read your thoughts again?” he pushed.
She smirked up at him. “Like you didn’t like being inside my head last night,” she said, nudging him.
“Not as much as I liked being inside other parts of you,” he replied, nudging her back.
Estella stopped in mid-step, staring after him with her jaw nearly hanging open.
Xander stopped and stared back at her, smirking knowingly.
“What did you just say?” she demanded, the strained shock in her voice betrayed by stifled laughter.
“My, my,” Xander said with a chuckle. “Did I just make you blush? That was way too easy. I thought I’d have to visit Ruby and ask for one of those little vibrating thingies to really get the red in you cheeks.”
“Oh my…” Estella hurried forward to clap a hand over his mouth, looking around to check if anybody had overheard them. “Jeez! Who are you and what have you done with my bashful husband?”
“I ate him,” Xander joked, then, smirking even wider, started to say, “If you want I can eat you—”
Estella, unable to keep from giggling, clapped her hand back over his mouth. Later tonight, definitely. Now behave!
You’re cute when you’re red like this, Xander thought-spoke back. I can see why you did this to me for so long.
Estella beamed at that and, removing her hand from his mouth, paused to replace it with her lips.
Xander made no move to hide the kiss or hurry it for the sake of not being seen. This, he knew, would also come as a shock to Estella.
He was right.
Giggling again, she pried herself free and issued another nudge. “Come on, you beast!” she said. “The others will be waiting.”
****
True to Estella’s words, the others were waiting.
Though, it would appear, none of them were very patient.
Serena and Zane were already chattering with one another, though, much to Xander’s surprise, the subject matter was focused neither on their sexual escapades nor which of them was being a “dick” or a “bitch” at that moment. Without prying too far, it seemed that they were discussing the arrival of some friends from the Clan of Vail. This, however, was enough for Xander to know… well, everything.
Though the ability was far, far from precognitive, it was easy for even him to forget that. Knowing that Nikki and Raith would be joining their ranks—though still uncertain whether they’d live long enough to prove useful—was something of a relief. The paths of reality where the two of them didn’t join them meant more deaths of key players that, in some way or another, were crucial to the outcome of the battle.
Nikki needs to reinforce the monorail support… he reminded himself, then immediately wondered why.
Before he could trace the dominos to see what this meant, however, he felt Estella’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him back into both the here and now—as opposed to the here and forty minutes ago, where Zoey and Isaac nearly walked in on the Vaileans… Oh geez! Xander recoiled and forced himself to focus—and they started towards the table where everyone else was sitting.
Zoey and Isaac were quiet, their hands clasped under the table (but Xander didn’t need any sort of extrasensory powers to know that) and a large, neon-orange tote bin set atop the table before them.
Zeek and Karen sat beside Satoru and Sasha, the Vaileans seated to the former’s right while Zoey and Isaac waited to the latter’s left. This left an opening for Xander at Zoey’s left and Estella at Zane’s right. These were the only two spots left at the…
Xander stumbled and felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of a familiar-looking ten-sided table.
Estella stopped and looked back, sensing his pause. “Everything alright?” she asked.
The question motivated the others to look over, and Xander, feeling the combined weight of their gazes, couldn’t bring himself to look away from the table.
“Where did this come from?” Xander asked, running his palm over the surface to make certain it was real.
Zane gave one of his “who gives a shit”-shrugs and said, “Found it with some of the other office junk. Why? You like it?”
“I hate it, actually,” Xander muttered.
“Didn’t peg you for the interior decorating sort,” Serena said with a laugh.
Xander didn’t reply.
“Baby?” Estella said, setting her hand atop his own.
The added weight pressed his palm further against the polished wood and he shivered, suddenly sure that if he looked up he’d see Depok sitting at the corner across from him. Forcing himself to look away from his and Estella’s hands on its surface, he caught sight of Zeek, looking with grave uncertainty back at him.
“Something the matter?” the anapriek asked.
Xander shook his head, his mouth too dry to form a response, and looked around the table.
Ten spaces… ten of them.
But how could that…?
“Wh-where is…” he paused, took a deep breath and worked to stave off the growing cottonmouth, and dared another look around the table. “Where’s Sawyer?” he finally asked.
Everyone at the table grimaced and looked away, none eager to answer.
It was Karen who finally cleared her throat and said, “He couldn’t make it.”
“More like wouldn’t,” Sasha corrected, though there was none of the usual playfulness that typically rode with her jabs against her sister.
Though the others remained silent, all seemed to agree with this general summary.
Xander looked down, stifling the urge to drive his fists through the table. For one sick, awful moment, he worried that doing so might hurt the tiger lying beneath its surface. The confusion from seeing the table and the guilt surrounding Sawyer and how he’d been taking Dianna’s death started to take their toll, and he forced himself to sit down at the seat beside Zoey.
Seeing this, Estella took her own seat beside him.
The room seemed to spin to Xander, the surrounding room obscuring and hazing into blackness, and he could practically see the nine dead faces looking back at him. Knowing that they weren’t really there, he worked to stifle his frenzied nerves, drag in a deep breath, and wipe the haze from his vision.
You were shown a great deal, he reminded himself. The Great Machine—‘great asshole,’ more like—forced you to choke down so many visions… You obviously saw this table—possibly this moment—at some point when you were lost in your head and constructed that ‘meeting’ with the others using this vision. Get ahold of yourself!
This, he was relieved to find, helped ease most of the tension. All the same, however, he couldn’t help but realize that Estella was now sitting where he’d been seated during the “meeting” in his mind.
Which meant he was sitting in Stan’s seat…
He shivered.
“Xander?” Zoey’s voice beside him was low, full of concern.
“You need a puke bag or something, bro?” Zane called, not at all low but carrying the same concern.
Zeek started to stand, his aura shifting as it often did when his instincts to heal took over.
Xander raised a hand to stop him and forced himself to shake his head.
“It’s fine,” he told them, though his voice was raspy and low. He cleared his throat, suddenly remembering all the times Stan had seemed to falter from his “higher-than-high”-stature. Had he ever gone through something like this? Clearing his thoughts of this—knowing that questions like that would do him no good—he exhaled again, imagining all the negative energies riding the air out on the “bad breath.” Surprisingly—though, somehow, not surprisingly at all—this worked. It is what it is, a thought—but not his thought—chimed in his head, and, strangely satisfied by this, he offered the group a reassuring nod and finally said, with a clear voice, “I’m fine. Just had a freaky moment of déjà vu.”
“Hate that,” Sasha offered, though her aura gave away that she was only saying it to make him feel better.
The others all agreed in their own way, all for the same reason.
Though they were all confused and in no way capable of understanding what it was Xander was going through, their efforts did work to ease his mind.
“It is an ugly fucking table,” Zane muttered after the sympathetic agreements died down, scratching at a patch on its surface where something had scratched it.
Serena rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you two can start one of those gay ‘fix my home’ shows after all this is over with.”
“Assuming we get to the actual meeting so that we can get this over with,” Zeek spat with impatience.
Seeing this as an opportunity to steer things in the intended direction, Xander spoke the words that he knew would get everyone focused:
“The Council is coming.”
Eight sets of breath seized in unsuspecting lungs. Estella, already knowing this, kept her gaze fixed on Xander as he waited for the news to sink in for the others.
Zane’s body tensed, but he otherwise offered no response.
Zeek and Karen shared a nervous glance.
Sasha shifted closer to Satoru, her aura matching the lean in a subconscious effort to take comfort from him. The cat-like mythos, without having to look, extended a striped and furry hand and set it on her thigh.
Zoey and Isaac, seeming conflicted, gave each other questioning glances. Xander could see on their auras that they were uncertain about viewing their peoples’ government in a negative light, but also knew that they were, through association with him, fugitives to that government.
“Welp…” Serena finally said, adding a sharp pop at the end of the word as she drummed her fingernails on the table. “That’s… I mean, it’s bad, right?” She stared at Xander, obviously trying to gauge the severity of the situation.
Soon everyone was looking at him in the same way.
Xander stared off for a moment, trying to decide which sequence of words would serve their cause the best. Too lax, he saw, would make them all feel that there was no need for concern. This, despite everything, would motivate suspicion from The Council, suspicion that could divert from the natural path and set an entirely new sequence of events into motion. They could wind up going to war with them rather than gaining their support, which would leave all of them weak and vulnerable to attack when Aleks made his move. Worse yet, if Xander couldn’t get The Council to come to his side, they’d almost certainly target Allen Carrey and the rest of the humans they’d managed to recruit, and even if Xander and the others managed to escape with their lives they’d be doing so without one of their most effective weapons. Without Carrey, the only other person with a strong handle on the Cebourists’ magic was Estella, who…
Estella!
Running! Running so fast and so hard that his body is tearing at the seams. He is—yes, he is—on course to her, but Xander sees, in that instant, that he’ll never make it in time.
He will never make it to Estella before…
No!
Xander jolted out of the memory that he knew was not a memory. He felt tears in his eye and cast his aura up in a shield that hid his reddened, panic-strewn face from the others. They’d only see him staring back at them as he had been—as he should be—until he managed to calm down again. He didn’t need them seeing him like that; didn’t need them worrying about him or doubting him.
To lose Carrey was to lose a powerful weapon in the war on Aleks, a weapon—a role—that only Estella could occupy. And to put Estella on that battlefield was…
On course… On course… On course!
It was not an option.
The Council could not be allowed to destroy Carrey, which meant The Council needed to feel confident in Xander and his group. And if some of the strongest members of Xander’s group—namely those sitting around the table—seemed too relaxed upon their arrival, they would have no reason to feel confident in putting their trust in them. Edgy as The Council already was, being received with anything except the reaction they’d be expecting would give them any number of reasons to feel suspicious.
And, when The Council was involved, suspicion was a good way to motivate unwanted deaths.
At the same time, however, if Xander made them all think that The Council outright intended to kill them, there were any number of reactions that could end poorly, not the least of which being an attempted preemptive attack.
And with all the high-level aurics The Council had at their disposal, Xander knew that a sneak attack was nothing more than an elaborate suicide.
“It’s not great,” he finally said, deciding it was best to instill just enough uncertainty to maintain appearances while still offering a glimmer of hope.
With any luck, Serena and Zane would…
Serena and Zane?
Xander studied them a moment, noticed a direct line tethering their mutual history back to…
Yes! They had ties to a high-ranking Council member!
Aren’t we lucky that Damiano Moratti will be among those paying us a visit, he thought.
“Earth-to-Stryker!” Serena called out through cupped palms. “Where do you keep drifting off to?” she demanded once his eye were focused on her once again.
“Everywhere,” he answered.
There were a few nervous chuckles that cycled around the table, but when Xander’s face gave no hint of humor—and it wouldn’t behind the shield he was still hiding behind—these died down.
“Oh…” Serena said, looking unnerved. “Gotta be racking up those travel points, huh?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Xander offered. Then, addressing the rest of the table, he said, “I’m not going to lie to you all and say that they’ve got good intentions in coming here. They don’t. Right now, the main focus on all of their minds is killing me, and most of them believe that anybody in league with me should die, as well.”
The others all looked nervous about this, but none of them gave any sign that they wanted to leave. Even their auras remained fixed, certain of where they stood.
“However…” Xander went on, needing them all to have faith enough to carry them through what was about come. Without meaning to, he glanced towards Zoey—remembering how Tennesen had occupied that spot in his mind “meeting”—before realizing that the old priest was not there. “I’m confident that I can change their minds about… well, all of this. Perhaps even get them to agree to help us. It won’t exactly change everyone’s mind if we regain their support—there’ll be plenty willing to believe that I’d simply corrupted The Council just to maintain that I’m the enemy—but it will bring many to our side.”
