MirrorWorld

“Cracks or no cracks,” Katzman says, “it was brazen for the Dread. We’re running out of—”

Lyons holds up a hand, silencing the Dread Squad leader. “I want you, Crazy”—he has to force himself to use the nickname—“to track down the injured bull and kill it before it can relate what it found to the colony.”

“On his own?” Katzman looks equal parts surprised and offended.

Lyons swivels around toward Katzman and, with something close to a growl, says, “You have other matters to focus on.”

Katzman just purses his lips and nods.

Lyons’s chair squeals as he swivels back toward me. “The bull has a fifteen-minute head start, but I’m told you wounded it. The nearest colony is an hour south, on foot. If it’s moving slowly, you’ll be able to catch it in time.”

“And if I don’t?”

Lyons’s face grows dark. “You have cost this organization a great deal. Never mind the dead men lying in the stairwell. You’ve exposed us to the enemy. Provided a chink in our armor. Even worse, you have given our enemy advance warning.”

“Of what?”

He raises a single eyebrow and points a finger at me. “Of you. Imagine if Japan had advance knowledge of the atom bomb. Do you think the B-29 bomber would have reached Hiroshima unscathed?”

“You’re … comparing me to an atom bomb?” I’m seriously starting to wonder what kind of a man I was before losing my memory.

He shrugs. “Perhaps closer to the Enola Gay, the B-29 that carried the bomb. Either way, the choices you make will have an impact on a war that most people aren’t aware of but are feeling all around them. There is no insulation from what’s coming. We will prevail and live or lose and die. That is the nature of war, and your actions will have very real and long-reaching consequences. I need you—we all need you—to take this seriously.”

I look to Allenby, knowing she’ll give it to me straight. “Is he serious?”

She looks from me to Lyons and then back to me. “There is no doubt that the Dread are attacking the human race. What I would like to know is why. I would prefer a peaceful resolution, but that doesn’t seem likely, and if they continue on track, with no resistance from us, it’s going to be an easy victory.”

“That’s enough for now. Time is short.” Lyons says. “If you want answers, they will be given when the bull is dead, and only if you decide to grace us with your presence.”

“And if I decide to leave?”

“You can watch the world burn on your own.”

I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but if these Dread are behind the turmoil around the world, they need to be stopped. Though I don’t fear them myself, I’ve seen the effect they have on people. If they can turn three trained soldiers against each other, they can turn a crowd into a mob or a protest into a riot. Maybe even a misunderstanding into a war.

I stand from the chair. “I’ll kill it.”

“You’ll try,” Lyons says.

“And when I do,” I say. “No more secrets?”

Arms open wide, he says, “I will be an open book.” He turns to Katzman. “See about the windows. I want every crack, ding, and scratch repaired within the hour. We cannot afford another incursion.” Then to Allenby, “Get your nephew whatever he wants. I expect him out of our doors in five minutes.”

“He’s sustained some injuries,” Allenby says.

Before I can wave off her concern, Lyons says, “Pain focuses the mind. He can heal if he comes back.”

“When,” I say. “Not if.” But as I turn to leave, a strange sensation washes over me. It’s not fear. It’s a lack of confidence. For the first time in my short memory, I’ve just talked straight out of my ass, and everyone in the room knows it.





23.

Four minutes later, after a stop at a first-floor armory, I’m fitted with black body armor; have a new, sound-suppressed P229 handgun holstered on my hip—for all the good the last one did; and what I’ve begun to think of as my machete over my back. The new addition to my jet-black arsenal is a compound bow and twelve arrows with wide hunting tips. A bullet will punch a hole in a target, but these arrows will carve two one-inch-long slices deeper into the target’s flesh than a bullet can puncture. Unlike a bullet, which fragments on impact, the arrow will slide straight through. And it will barely make a sound. Even without a kill shot, a target will quickly bleed out. Last is the up-close and personal weapon of last resort, or perhaps first resort. Nothing kills as efficiently or quietly as a garrote wire. The thin oscillium cable has a handle at each end and, once wrapped around a target’s neck, can kill quickly and quietly. No one has ever tried using the device on a Dread, but it’s an assassin’s best friend when subtlety is called for. Or, at least, I think it is. I have no memory of ever using one, only that I know how. I loop the wire around my hand and pocket the weapon.