“Good afternoon, Nathan.” Mrs. Brewster acted as if he were some kind of servant who had just dropped by her flat in South Kensington. “I assume you know Dr. Jensen from Denmark.”
Boone nodded to Jensen. “We met last year in Europe.”
A third person was standing in front of the windows, surveying the city. Michael Corrigan. A few months ago, Boone had captured Michael in Los Angeles and transported him to the East Coast. He had seen the young man scared and confused, but now a transformation had taken place. The Traveler seemed to radiate confidence and authority.
“I’m the one who asked for this meeting,” Michael said. “Thank you for joining us at such short notice.”
“Michael has become part of our effort,” Mrs. Brewster said. “He completely understands our new objectives.”
But he’s a Traveler, Boone thought. We’ve been killing people like him for thousands of years. He wanted to grab Mrs. Brewster and shake her as if she had just started a fire in her own house. Why are you doing this? Can’t you see the danger?
“And what are our new objectives?” Boone asked. “The Brethren have done everything possible to establish the Panopticon. Has that goal changed in the last few weeks?”
“The goal is the same, but now it’s becoming possible,” Michael said. “If the Shadow Program works in Berlin, we can expand it throughout Europe and North America.”
“That involves the computer center,” Boone said. “My job is to protect the Brethren from attacks by its enemies.”
“And you haven’t done a very good job of that,” Dr. Jensen said. “Our Westchester research center was infiltrated and nearly destroyed, the completion of the quantum computer has been delayed, and last night Hollis Wilson assaulted several of your men at a Manhattan dance club.”
“We expect to have some attrition of our contract employees,” Mrs. Brewster said. “What bothers us is that Hollis Wilson escaped.”
“I need a larger staff.”
“Gabriel and his friends are not the immediate problem,” Michael said. “You need to concentrate on finding my father.”
Boone hesitated, and then spoke carefully. “These days I’m receiving different instructions from different sources.”
“My brother has never been capable of organizing anything. He was just a motorcycle messenger in Los Angeles when your men tracked us down. My father has spent his life as a Traveler, and we know he’s inspired alternative communities. Matthew Corrigan is dangerous and that’s why he’s the objective. You have your orders, Mr. Boone.”
Mrs. Brewster nodded slightly, giving her assent. Boone felt as if the massive window had just shattered and there were shards of glass everywhere. A Traveler, one of their enemies, was speaking for the Brethren.
“If that’s what you want…”
Michael walked slowly across the room. He was staring at Boone as if he had just heard every disloyal thought. “Yes, Mr. Boone. I’m in charge of finding my father, and that’s what I want.”
23
G abriel heard the door of the storage hut slam open and hard-soled boots clomping up the staircase. Still wrapped in a heavy quilt, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Sister Faustina, the Polish nun, came in with a wooden tray. She placed his breakfast on the floor, then stood with her hands on her waist.
“You asleep?”
“Not now.”
“Your friends are awake. After breakfast, please to enter the chapel.”
“Thank you, Sister Faustina. I’ll do that.”
The big woman remained near the staircase, studying Gabriel as if he were a new species of sea mammal that had washed ashore on the island.
“We talk to your father. He is a man of faith.” Sister Faustina continued staring at him and sniffed loudly. Gabriel felt like he had just failed an inspection. “We pray for your father every night. Perhaps he is in a dark place. Perhaps he cannot find a way home….”
“Thank you, Sister.”
Sister Faustina nodded and then stomped back down the staircase. There was no heat in the storage hut, so Gabriel got dressed quickly. The nun had brought him a pot of tea, a loaf of brown bread, butter, apricot jam, and a thick slice of cheddar cheese. Gabriel was hungry and he ate quickly, pausing only when he poured a second cup of tea.
Had he really made love to Maya last night? In the cold storage room, with sunlight pushing through the round windows, the moment in the chapel was distant and dreamlike. He remembered the first long kiss, the candle flames trembling as their bodies came together and then parted. For the first time since they had met each other, he felt that all of Maya’s defenses had melted away and he could see her clearly. She loved him and cared for him, and his own emotions flowed back to her. Both Harlequin and Traveler were already set apart from the ordinary world, and now these two puzzle pieces had somehow touched and locked together.
Pulling on his jacket, he left the storage hut and followed the stone pathway past the other buildings. The sky was clear, but it was a raw, cold day with a northwest wind that pushed through the scurvy grass and saw thistle. Peat smoke trailed out from the cooking hut’s stovepipe chimney, but Gabriel avoided the comfort there and went directly to the chapel.
He found Maya sitting on a bench with her sheathed sword resting on her legs. Wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black wool pants, Mother Blessing paced back and forth in front of the altar. The conversation between the two Harlequins stopped immediately when he entered the room.
“Sister Faustina said I was supposed to come here.”
“That’s right,” Mother Blessing said. “Maya has something to tell you.”
Maya glanced up at Gabriel and he felt as if he had been jabbed with a knife. The young Harlequin’s aggressive confidence had disappeared. She looked sad and defeated, and Gabriel realized that somehow Mother Blessing had found out about last night.
“It’s dangerous to have two Travelers in the same location,” Maya said. Her voice was flat and unemotional. “We’ve contacted Captain Foley on the satellite phone. You’ll leave this morning with Mother Blessing and go back to the mainland. She’ll take you to a safe house somewhere in Ireland. I’ll stay here and guard your father.”
“If I have to go, I want you to come with me.”
“We’ve already made the decision,” Mother Blessing said. “You don’t have a choice. I’ve guarded your father for six months. Now that will be Maya’s obligation.”
“I don’t see why Maya and I can’t stay together.”
“We know what’s best for your survival.”
Maya was gripping the scabbard of her sword as if the weapon could save her from this conversation. Her face was desperate, pleading, but she looked back down at the floor. “This is the most logical decision, Gabriel. And that’s what Harlequins should do—make calm, logical decisions concerning the protection of Travelers. Mother Blessing is far more experienced than I. She has access to weapons and reliable mercenaries.”
“And don’t forget about Vicki Fraser and the little girl,” Mother Blessing said. “They’ll be safe here on the island. It’s difficult to travel with a child.”
“We’ve done all right so far.”
“You’ve been lucky.” Mother Blessing strolled over to the clear window behind the altar that looked out at the sea. Gabriel wanted to argue with the Harlequin, but there was something about this middle-aged Irishwoman that was very intimidating. Over the years, Gabriel had seen a variety of fights in bars and on the street where two drunken men insulted each other and worked their way up to aggression. Mother Blessing had stepped over that line many years ago. If you challenged her, she would attack immediately—without restraint.
“When will I see you again?” Gabriel asked Maya.
“In a year or so perhaps she can leave the island,” Mother Blessing said. “It might happen earlier if your father returns to this world.”
“A year? That’s crazy.”
“The boat will be here in twenty m
inutes, Gabriel. Get ready to leave.”
The conversation was over. Dazed, Gabriel left the two women and walked out of the chapel. Gabriel could see that Vicki and Alice were up on the ridge. He climbed the stone stairway to the next ledge, circled the garden and the rainwater catch basins, then followed the path that led to the highest point on the island.
Sitting on a sandstone boulder, Vicki gazed out at the dark blue ocean that surrounded them in every direction. The island made Gabriel feel like nothing else existed—that they truly were alone at the center of the world. About thirty feet away from her, Alice scrambled around the rocks, pausing every few minutes to slash at tall weeds with a stick.
Vicki smiled when Gabriel approached her and motioned to the girl. “I think she’s pretending to be a Harlequin.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” Gabriel said, and sat down beside Vicki. Above them, the sky was dotted with gannets and shearwaters. The birds rode invisible currents of air up to the heavens and glided back down again. “I’m leaving the island,” Gabriel said. As he described the discussion in the chapel, Mother Blessing’s decision gained weight and substance—like a distant city approached through the fog. The wind became stronger and the black-and-white shearwaters began calling with high-pitched cries that made Gabriel feel lonely.
“Don’t worry about your father, Gabriel. Maya and I will guard him.”
“What if he returns to this world and I’m not here?”
Vicki took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “Then we’ll tell him that he has a loyal son who did everything possible to find him.”
GABRIEL RETURNED TO the storage hut, lit a candle, and climbed down into the cellar. His father’s body was still lying on the stone slab, still covered with the sheet of cotton muslin. Gabriel’s shadow wavered on the wall as he pulled off the sheet. Matthew Corrigan’s hair was long and gray, and he had deep lines etched into his forehead and at the corners of his mouth. When Gabriel was growing up everyone had said that he looked like his father, but it was only now that he could see the resemblance. Gabriel felt as if he were looking at his older self—weary from a lifetime of peering into the hearts of others.
Kneeling beside the body, Gabriel pressed his ear against his father’s chest. He waited for several minutes, and then was startled to hear the faint thump of a single heartbeat. It felt as if his father were only a few feet away from him, calling from the shadows. Gabriel stood up, kissed his father’s forehead, and climbed back up the stairs. As he was closing the trapdoor, Maya walked into the hut.
“Is your father all right?”
“No change.” Gabriel walked over to the doorway and embraced her. For a brief moment, she gave in to her emotions, holding him tightly while he stroked her hair.
“Foley just arrived with his boat,” she said. “Mother Blessing is walking down the pathway to the dock. You’re supposed to follow her right away.”
“And she knows about last night?”
“Of course she knows.” The wind pushed against the half-open door. Maya stepped away from him and slammed it shut. “We made a mistake. I didn’t honor my obligation.”
“Stop talking like a Harlequin.”
“I am a Harlequin, Gabriel. And I can’t protect you unless I’m like Mother Blessing. Cold and rational.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I’m a Harlequin and you’re a Traveler. It’s time you started acting like one.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father has crossed over and might not come back. Your brother is part of the Tabula. You’re the one person everyone is hoping for. I know you have the power, Gabriel. Now you have to use it.”
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“I didn’t ask for my particular life either, but that’s what I was given. Last night we were both trying to avoid our obligations. Mother Blessing is right. Love makes you foolish and weak.”
Gabriel stepped forward and tried to embrace her. “Maya…”
“I accept who I am. And it’s time you acknowledged your own responsibilities.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Lead the Free Runners?”
“You could talk to them. That’s a start. They admire you, Gabriel. When we went to Vine House, I could see that in their eyes.”
“All right, I’ll talk to them. But I want you with me.”
Maya turned away from Gabriel so that he couldn’t see her face. “Take care of yourself,” she said in a strained voice, and then she was out the door and striding up the rocky slope, the wind whipping through her black hair.
GABRIEL GRABBED HIS shoulder bag and climbed down the rocky staircase to the dock area. Captain Foley was in his fishing boat, tinkering with the engine. Mother Blessing marched back and forth on the concrete slab.
“Maya gave me the keys to the car you left at Portmagee,” she told Gabriel. “We’ll drive north to a safe house in County Cavan. I need to call some of my contacts and see if—”
Gabriel interrupted her. “You can do what you want, but I’m returning to London.”
Mother Blessing made sure that Captain Foley was still on his boat—too far away to hear the conversation. “You’ve accepted my protection, Gabriel. That means I make the choices.”
“I have some friends in the city—Free Runners—and I want to talk to them.”
“And what if I don’t agree?”
“Are you afraid of the Tabula, Mother Blessing? Is that the problem?”
The Irish Harlequin frowned as she touched her black metal sword case. She looked like a pagan queen who had just been insulted by a commoner. “It’s quite clear that they’re afraid of me.”
“Good. Because I’m going back to London. If you want to protect me, then you’ll have to come along.”
24
S itting near a top-floor window in Vine House, Gabriel looked out at the small public park in the middle of Bonnington Square. It was about nine o’clock in the evening. After nightfall, a cold layer of fog had drifted off the Thames River and pushed its way through the narrow streets of South London. The streetlights around the square burned with a feeble light, like little bits of fire overcome by a colder, more pervasive power. No one was in the park, but every few minutes another small group of young men and women approached the house and knocked on the door.
Gabriel had been back in London for three days, staying at Winston Abosa’s drum shop in Camden Market. He had asked Jugger and his friends for help, and they had responded immediately. The word was out, and Free Runners from every part of the country were coming to Vine House.
Jugger knocked twice on the door before poking his head in. The Free Runner looked excited and a little nervous. Gabriel could hear the sound of voices coming from the crowd downstairs.
“A lot of people are showing up,” Jugger said. “We got crews coming in from Glasgow and Liverpool. Even your old pal Cutter came down from Manchester with his friends. Don’t know how they found out about this.”
“Is there going to be enough room?”
“Ice is acting like a games director at a holiday camp—telling people where to sit. Roland and Sebastian are stringing cable down the hallway. There’re going to be speakers all over the house.”
“Thanks, Jugger.”
The Free Runner adjusted his knit cap and gave Gabriel an embarrassed smile. “Listen, mate. We’re friends, right? We can talk about anything.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s that Irishwoman who’s your bodyguard. The front door was crowded with people, so Roland went around the house and climbed over the wall into the garden. We do that all the time so we can come in through the kitchen. Well, quick as a flash, that Irishwoman is pointin’ a twelve-round automatic at Roland’s skull.”
“Did she hurt him?”
“Nah. But he just about pissed in his pants. Swear to God, Gabriel. Maybe she could wait outside the house during your speech. I don’t want her killing anybody tonight.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here as soon as I’m done speaking.”
“And then what?”
“I’m going to ask for some help and we’ll see what happens. I want you to be the middleman between me and the people downstairs.”
“No problem. I can handle that.”
“I’m staying in Camden Market in an underground area called the catacombs. There’s a drum shop there run by a man named Winston. He’ll know how to find me.”
“Sounds like a plan, mate.” Jugger nodded solemnly. “Everyone wants to hear you, but give us a couple more minutes. I got to move some people around a bit.”
The Free Runner left the garret and climbed back down the narrow staircase. Gabriel remained in the chair, looking out at the little garden in the middle of the square. According to Sebastian, the garden had once been a bombed-out building during World War II and then a dumping ground for trash and old cars. Gradually, the community had come together, cleaned up the site, and planted a mixture of conventional shrubs and ivy plus more exotic tropical vegetation. There were palm trees and banana plants growing right next to English tea roses. Sebastian was convinced that Bonnington Square was a distinct ecological zone with its own particular climate.
The Free Runners had planted a vegetable garden behind Vine House, and you could see bushes and trees growing on the roof of every building around the square. Although there were thousands of closed-circuit television cameras all over London, the constant desire for a garden showed that the average citizen wanted a refuge that was separate from the Vast Machine. With friends and food and a bottle of wine, even a backyard garden felt large and expansive.
A few minutes later, Jugger knocked twice and opened the door. “You ready?” he asked.
Several Free Runners sat on the staircase and others were squeezed into the hallway. Mother Blessing stood in the living room near a table with a small microphone lying at the center. One of her Irish mercenaries, a tough-looking man with a white scar on the back of his neck, was directly outside the house.