Collision: Book Four in the Secret World Chronicle - eARC Page 41

  “Don’t worry, it’s true.” Bella had sent Ramona a “highlights tape” of what the CCCP team had seen of what they were now calling Ultima Thule. It fit; better than the original concept’s name of “Germania” fit. When Marconi had figured out how to download it to the Metis systems; he’d been properly horrified by the vast size of the place, and the implication that there were millions of waiting warriors lurking there, ready to deploy at any moment. “Convincing them of the truth isn’t going to be the problem.”

  Trina nodded in uncertain agreement. “Just be careful. No one has ever been banned from the Assembly, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try to remove you from the proceedings.” She rose up on her toes and gave Mercurye a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Good luck.”

  To Ramona’s surprise, the speedster blushed at the attention. He didn’t return the kiss. “Won’t be luck that we’ll need. Just watch the door and let her talk. They won’t be able to say no once Ramona starts talking.”

  “We hope.” Ramona ran through the key information that Bella had sent. Marconi had his cue, and he had assured her that the Metisans would not be able to shut him out of the system easily. “You head clockwise once the doors open, Rick. I’ll go center. Ready?”

  He exhaled and shook out his hands and feet. “Call it.”

  Ramona flexed her fingers, her eyes fixed on the door. They would only have one opportunity. “Go.”

  Trina yanked on the door to allow a blur of white to rush in. The cries of indignation and protest came in seconds, and the noise grew to a roar in less than a minute. Ramona slipped through the door and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Like the room where she had stood face to gigantic face with Tesla and Marconi, she could not make out a ceiling or walls beyond the door she had just passed through. Air rushed behind her, proof of Mercurye’s distraction while she made her way to what she hoped was the center of the room. Small blue-white lights illuminated frantic figures at long white tables. They gestured at her, motioning her back toward the double doors. Ramona ignored them and climbed on top of a table. She brought her foot down twice, the sharp crack of boot on marble reminiscent of a gavel. Immediately, the noise stopped.

  “I wish to call the Assembly’s attention to a matter of grave importance,” Ramona began in a clear voice. She counted to five silently, hoping that someone would respond.

  “On what grounds and for what purpose?” The clear and cultured tone came from somewhere above her left shoulder. Ramona guessed there was some kind of raised dais for speakers or key members to offer arguments.

  “Survival. And, survival,” she added with a touch of sarcasm. “Survival of Metis, I mean.”

  The room roared again in protest. “Out of order! This is not the proper procedure for the petition of the assembly!”

  “This isn’t a petition,” Ramona shot into the darkness. “It’s a warning. The Thulians are coming for you, the same way that they came for the rest of the Earth.”

  Those words silenced the room. Mercurye came to a stop next to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s true,” he called. “I’ve seen the proof, and you’re all in danger. We’re all in danger,” he corrected.

  The sonorous voice over her left shoulder asked the first question, one that Ramona had expected. “Why would you think that the Thulians are coming for us? We are not in the battle, and the Assembly has deemed there to be no need to join the conflict.” Murmurs of approval followed his words. “We have not seen danger.”

  “Danger doesn’t walk up to the front door and knock, and if you’re doing your best to ignore all of the signs, then you’re definitely not going to see it.” Ramona cracked the heel of her boot twice against the marble, and Marconi answered with a slowly visible image of the Thulian city above the heads of the Assembly. Like the visages of the two elder scientist, the faint outline of the taller buildings and the perimeter sketched across the air. Pale blue lines darkened as the intricacies of the city filled in with more lines. White and silver shading gave depth and detail while symbols that Ramona guessed to be Metisan characters labeled the larger structure. Finally. a second, much smaller city outlined in yellow appeared beneath the outline. From the gasps and murmurs in the half-light, Ramona could only guess that the smaller city was Metis.

  “The Thulians aren’t idle or passive. Their attacks on Earth, on the metahumans of Earth and the innovations that Metis has generously provided them over the decades, have been calculated from the very beginning. Just like their city, which is far bigger and more complex than any of us could have imagined.” Ramona snapped her fingers twice to bring the most prominent Thulian buildings to the foreground. “This isn’t a city built for peace. This is a city designed to train soldiers and sustain a brutal war.”

  “But we are not at war with the Thulians.” The voice behind Ramona reminded her with equal parts annoyance and condescension. “Earth is at war with them, and your ECHO is presently engaged in that conflict. We have not agreed to take any part in this conflict, Ms. Ferrari.”

  The fact that some holier-than-thou Metisian knew her name and used it in the same simpering tone as everyone who’d ever ignored her detective credentials during a critical investigation made Ramona’s blood boil. She stepped back and craned her neck up to look at the speaker. A smooth-faced man in a white jacket that would have been fashionable in the seventies glared down at her, his mouth drawn tight. “First of all, it’s Steel Maiden. I had these meta factors triggered without the help of any of your fancy technology or tweaking, so you can show some respect by using my callsign.”

  As soon as Ramona said ‘meta factors,’ murmured discussions sprang up around the room. Mercurye chuckled softly at her ear. “Now you’ve got ’em. Don’t stop.”

  “That’s right. Now we are able to trigger meta factors. There are metahumans on both sides of the fight, and plenty who are left in the middle, waiting for a side to choose them.” Ramona returned her attention to the floating wireframe. She brought both index fingers together above her head and stretched them out to shoulder width. In response, the city grew and the central areas gained definition. “Based upon the information gathered—”

  “Gathered by whom?” Another voice, mellifluous and light, came from the same balcony where the sour-faced representative stood. “How did you come by this very detailed map of the Thulian city?”

  Ramona allowed herself a very small smirk. “We made it from the spy-scan of our infiltration team. We aren’t limited to the technology that you, in your intermittent wisdom and benevolence, decide to give to use poor ordinary humans. When I say that we in ECHO have seen the city, I’m not exaggerating.” The murmurs of surprise rippled around the room at that bit of news, encouraging her to continue. “We infiltrated, but there is a very high chance that the Thulians either know, or will realize soon, that we did. And when they do, they will escalate. This is a very real threat, and you cannot afford to sit up here and debate if you need to enter this conflict.”

  “The fabric of our society thrives on debate and innovation, my dear.” The woman’s simpering tone was more irritating than the man’s sharp dismissal. “We have a process by which to arrive at these choices. A process that reflects a progressive and truly democratic society.”

  “Progressive my metallic ass,” Ramona spat. “It reflects a society of indecisive cowards who would rather watch some so-called lesser creatures fight for them so they never have to take responsibility for their downfall or the murder of one of their closest allies, Alex Tesla.”

  The mention of Alex Tesla brought the entire Assembly to a roar of accusations and arguments. Several of them screamed at Ramona, their gestures made more ghostly in the blue half-light. She stood silent and defiant and waved her left hand to dismiss the Thulian city, and the room plunged into darkness. Startled by the change from light to dark, the voices cut off.

  She spoke into the darkness. “The Thulians can control meta factors. They have soldiers with metahuman traits
, leaders in massive armies and allies on Earth. A choice to remain neutral is a choice for the death of your precious society.” Ramona drew a deep breath, ready to drive in the final coffin nail. “The next time they mount a major attack, and it will be soon, they won’t hold back. We destroyed their North American base. They hit us back and we drove them off. But they were holding back. We know that now, although we don’t know why, now that we’ve seen this city. The next time, they’ll throw everything at us, and they’ll roll right over the top of us, and your only line of defense will be gone. If they don’t already know about your existence, and you would be wise to assume that they do, they’ll imply it from what they can pull out of the wreckage. And then they will be coming for you. They won’t allow you to stand. Your choices will be simple: die, or be assimilated.” She took a second long breath. Now to pull the reveal. “But now we know where they are, and what they have. We are going to have to attack them, now, when they are not expecting it and we stand a chance of succeeding. Remaining neutral is a choice to die yourselves, to murder Misters Tesla and Marconi, and destroy everything they have created in the name of your progress.”

  No one spoke. Ramona could feel Mercurye breathing next to her, little puffs of air just behind her ear. As the silence stretched on, he laced his fingers with hers. She squeezed his hand gently and took a deep breath. Icebergs never seemed that big at first sight, but Ramona had explained everything beneath the proverbial waves, and the Metisians had finally realized what that collision would mean for them.

  In the space where the wireframe city had hung, the image of Tesla came to life in stunning three-dimensional clarity. Rather than simply an enormous talking head, a full figure stood on an imaginary platform above the Metisian Assembly in severe and fastidious dress. Hands clasped behind his back, he seemed to survey the stunned representatives with an expression equal parts disdain and disappointment. “It would seem obvious that Signore Marconi and I would prefer a choice that keeps us among the living, but the reason goes further. There are brilliant minds contained within ECHO, shrewd negotiators and accomplished tacticians who have ensured survival this far. Our allies seek collaboration, not protection.”

  “But they are still so young,” the woman protested. “They lack a mature understanding of this particular conflict.”

  “I disagree.” Tesla raised one finger to point at the ceiling. “For an organization thrust into new responsibilities among both the metahuman and arcane, their leadership is quite mature, and they are willing to explore new alternatives. Quite progressive.”

  Ramona pivoted so she could see both Tesla and the two Metisian leaders at the same time. The man and woman appeared perplexed by Tesla’s presence. The man fiddled with the high collar of his jacket and stole a glance at Ramona. His mouth twisted in the manner of someone smelling manure, and she decided she really did not like the man. At least his counterpart had the decency to maintain a somewhat neutral expression. “And their technology, then? Do they have the advancement necessary to support the innovations that only we can provide? You yourself have expressed frustration over humanity’s inability to fully appreciate the gifts of science when tempted with capitalism and sociological hierarchy.”

  It was tempting to remind this woman that she was part of this so-called sociological hierarchy, but Ramona pressed her lips together and resisted the urge to speak. Tesla gestured with a open palm to her and Mercurye, his normally severe expressing softening the smallest bit. “And these representatives of that humanity have not only recognized our role as benefactors but have extended an offer of alliance. A symbiotic relationship. Was that not part of the Metisian intent when we founded this city? To find and foster equals?”

  The room hummed with discussion. Mercurye leaned over. “I’ve never seen him with feet. I didn’t think he had them.”

  “Special occasion,” she replied. “I guess bringing argument for a vote to engage in war alongside ECHO is worthy of pants.”

  “I guess.”

  Discussion and debate continued among the various tiers of the Assembly, with the two lead representatives and Tesla remaining quiet. None of them addressed Ramona or Mercurye, although plenty of them stared and pointed. Ramona craned her neck up to see the woman frowning down at Mercurye with clear disapproval. She elbowed him and pointed with her chin. “She’s not happy with us.”

  “Mabel isn’t happy with a lot of this. Trina says she’s led a lot of the resistance to any additional involvement. She was also one of the people who came for Eisenfaust’s body, which doesn’t make any sense to me,” he said. “With all that knowledge, why wouldn’t they want help?”

  She didn’t want to answer him out loud, but Ramona could think of plenty of reasons for a prominent figure in a supposedly superior society to plead neutrality instead of alliance. She let go of Mercurye’s hand and approached the full figure of Tesla. In a rather pedestrian fashion, he made as if to walk down a spiral staircase and came to stand in front of her. Ramona giggled when she realized that she had to look up to speak with the thin, refined man. “You’re taller than I expected, sir.”

  “It is as I have always been. Sometimes, one’s appearance in matters of diplomacy requires a certain presentation.” He smoothed the front of his jacket and studied Ramona. “You are very direct in your negotiations. It would be difficult for those of the Assembly to tell you no.”

  She couldn’t tell if he had intended the words as a compliment or just as an odd bit of conversation. “Yankee Pride and Belladonna Blue find that quality to be useful at times. Infuriating at others, but it’s been pretty useful as of late.”

  “Indeed. Your choice of words was a bit sharp, but… appreciated,” he finished. “My nephew believed wholeheartedly in an alliance of ECHO and Metis. He attempted an earlier alliance, but was never able to move beyond initial negotiations.” Tesla sighed and shook his head, the outline blurring with the movement. “At least we are no longer at a stalemate. Either they will vote to assist or not.”

  Ramona found the man’s pessimism bothersome. She had managed to convince him to participate in a complex magical endeavor for the sake of unlocking the charter; compared to that, reminding the Metisians that their self-preservation demanded an alliance with ECHO seemed easy. “Let’s strike the ‘or not’ from the sentence, sir. The vote’s not final yet.”

  A single bell chimed in the hall from somewhere near the lead representatives. Tesla gave Ramona a curt nod and climbed the invisible staircase to stand next to Mabel. She didn’t appear too unnerved by the wireframe man at her side. Mabel rang the small handbell a second time. The crisp tone was answered by all of the lights along the balconies going dark.

  “In spite of the unorthodox presentation of this issue to the Assembly,” the man on the dais began. He did not bother to hide his disdain for the two standing in the center of the room. “We call for a vote on the alliance of Metis with ECHO to unite in defense against the Thulians and their allies. We acknowledge that this course may result in conflict, but we bring this to the Assembly for a single and final vote.” He stressed the last two words without looking at Ramona and Mercurye.

  Ramona remained still and strained to see the members of the Assembly. Above her, the bell chimed a third time. “Final vote,” Mercurye repeated next to her. “But what if something happens? What if they say no? Can’t we petition a second time?” She wanted to point out that they hadn’t exactly petitioned a first time. Mercurye shifted from one foot to the other with nervous energy. The room remained pitch black. “And what about us? If this fails, do we go on trial? I don’t think they’d kill us, but I don’t want to go back to that white room. Might as well give me a straight jacket.”

  “Rick…” Ramona became aware of small chimes from around the Assembly. She reached back to place a finger over his lips to stem the stream of worry from his lips. “Wait.”

  A single blue light shone near the door, Trina’s face illuminated by the glowing disc in the palm of her
hand. She stared up at Mabel in defiance, all traces of fear gone. Across the cavernous hall, another pinprick of blue light appeared, but Ramona could not make out the face of the owner. She held her breath as more dots of light appeared in the blackness, like so many stars in the Georgia sky. At some point, Mercurye took her hand from his lips and placed it flat against his chest. Ramona fought down the rising hope, not wanting to acknowledge any measure of victory should one person vote against the alliance of ECHO and Metis.

  Light continued to spread through the Assembly, surrounding them and stretching up until Ramona could see the soft blue reflected on the mirrored ceiling. Now the pinpoints of lights became ribbons of blue, circling the Assembly and illuminating the solemn faces of thousands of Metisians. Unable to resist, she turned to check the pair on the dais.

  The man held a blue disc. Mabel’s disc glowed white, and Ramona clamped down on her anger. One vote would leave ECHO to fend for themselves, because of this so-called superior democracy. She resisted the urge to use Overwatch to notify Vickie or Bella to let them know of the decision; it made no sense to provide them with only part of the information. Mercurye let out a ragged breath; he must have seen Mabel as well.

  Looks like it’s white walls and Star Trek for me, too, she thought. Ramona hoped they would have the original series, at least. She had a soft spot for McCoy.

  The bell chimed one last time. Ramona glanced to the door, wondering if Trina would be able to speak with them before the Metisian authorities hurried them off to separate cells for a superiorly intellectual reprimand. At the very least, Ramona owed the young woman a thank-you and an apology. She hoped that they wouldn’t punish Trina too severely for her part in their plan.

  To her surprise, Trina beamed at them, both hands cupped around her glowing disk. Ramona stared back, puzzled. She craned her neck back up to see Mabel, who now held no disk. The man next to her raised his blue disk above his head. “With one abstention, the petition is passed. The alliance is approved.”