“Provoking them doesn’t help, though.”
“Not knowing their plans can be worse. If they’re after what it sounded like the other day, it could be bad for a lot of people, not just us.” I paused, inhaled. Audrey wasn’t the enemy. I wasn’t even sure whether she really disapproved. “Are you against the idea, or just playing devil’s advocate?”
She laughed. “A little of both. Sometimes you feel safer if everyone else is a little nervous too.”
I sat on Trumbull’s stuffed chair and rubbed my forehead. My skin felt stretched and painful. “I’ve been nothing but nerves since Barlow caught us. Worse since Peters accused my people of—whatever betrayal he thinks we had the freedom for. If we’re found going through their things, they’ll have more ammunition against us, and that does scare me. Sometimes it’s all I can do not to catch the next plane to San Francisco, or run back to Innsmouth and beg the elders to solve this, whatever it takes.” The words fell from my lips like cursed gems in old stories: even with Audrey it was a hard confession.
She squatted beside me, put her hand on my knee. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to make this work.” But she also asked, curiously: “Could they do that? Solve the whole thing?”
I shook my head. “No more than parents ever can. They might be able to help with the books, if the Yith won’t stand in their way, but I already know the limits of their ability to oppose the state.”
She sucked on her lip. “My parents can usually solve any problem, as long as it can be solved by throwing money at it. Not always worth the cost, though.”
“Throwing money, the elders could do. There’s a lot of gold in the ocean. I don’t see how that helps here, though.”
She sighed. “Me neither. And I’m sort of glad we wouldn’t have to ask my folks, if it came to that.” She stood and gave me a hug. “On the other hand, I can promise that if they try to grab a Winslow, they won’t find it easy to make everyone shut up and look the other way. And if they come after you guys again, I’ll call in every favor we have in every newsroom that owes us one.”
“You’d do that? I mean—” Realizing that she might take my doubt as an insult, I changed course. “Do you think that would work?”
“Papers are always looking for a good scandal. From what you said, in the ’20s they managed to make you look like the scandalous ones—but Daddy knows how to point reporters in the right direction, and so do I.”
I leaned back to look at her, trying not to feel jealous. I ought to be grateful that we now had friends who carried such influence. Hadn’t Caleb said we’d do better with connections outside the town?
Before the raid the Marshes too had freely exercised their influence, albeit within a smaller sphere of privilege. Perhaps if we’d endowed a building at the university, or funded charities beyond the town’s borders … but avoiding the outside world’s attention had seemed safer. We had always recognized that some problems could not be solved with gold.
“Thank you,” I said. “It means a lot, knowing that there’s someone who’d try not to let us be forgotten, this time.”
She smiled, a little sadly, and leaned against the arm of the couch. “Don’t worry. You’re pretty unforgettable.” She shook her head and let the smile spread. “This kind of planning really is borrowing trouble. I can distract Dawson so you can talk to Trumbull. She’ll know how to make this work if anyone does. Do you normally run midnight raids every night?”
“Only since you got here.”
Caleb stuck his head into the living room, and snickered as he caught this last. “Deedee’s gone outside to do something with Spector. I don’t know if she’s decided what, yet.”
“Thank you for eavesdropping,” I told him.
“You’re welcome.”
Trumbull followed him in and settled on the couch. “Mr. Marsh seems to think we should speak without representatives of the government present. I’m listening.”
As succinctly and unemotionally as I could, I laid out what Spector hadn’t quite suggested, and my reasons for thinking the risk worthwhile.
Trumbull considered for a minute. At last she nodded. “I don’t like having those people here. Not only are they irritating me personally, but they also threaten to actively interfere with our work. I’ll come along, and help as I can in getting around their protections. I should be able to do considerably better when I’ve had time to prepare.” Her expression darkened. “But there is only so far I can risk myself. If things go badly, I won’t stick around to get captured again.”
Caleb bared his teeth. “We’d expect nothing more, Great One.”
She smiled back, amusement mixed with an odd sort of fondness. Of course she wouldn’t be offended. “Recursive exponent wards—could he mean fractal wards? There’s something that doesn’t come up often in this era. If they’ve developed an early variation, I ought to see it in any case.”
“How do we handle that kind of ward?” I asked.
“It depends on the specific equation used, but generally one creates a countering equation to camouflage oneself as a part of the ward.” She went into a more technical explanation that I didn’t follow even slightly. After a minute she interrupted herself, hissed through her teeth in exasperation. “Never mind. I’ll take care of that part. I have no idea how your species survives at this level of mathematical sophistication.”
“We manage,” I said stiffly. Caleb was glaring at her, and I hurried on: “Aside from sophisticated and dangerous equations, what else can we expect to find? Not people, I hope, if we go late enough.”
“Ordinary locked doors?” suggested Caleb.
Audrey raised her hand. “I have bobby pins.”
“That sounds helpful,” said Caleb. “Although I still have the keys from Deedee—let’s try those first.”
I heard footsteps and held up my hand even as I recognized the echoing tap of Charlie’s cane. He came in a moment later and settled himself on a spare chair. He cocked his head at me and raised an eyebrow. Neko followed, and sat demurely with her tea.
“We’re planning a break-in.” I sighed. “Another one.”
“That will hopefully go better than the last?” asked Charlie. “No wonder Ron—Mr. Spector—and Miss Dawson left in such a vaguely explained hurry.”
Trumbull looked at him a long moment. “Actually, you could be useful.”
He bowed in his seat, eyes narrow, and doffed an imaginary hat. “I often think so.”
“Some of the protections we might encounter—variations on those common in this era, I mean—are easier to get through if one individual remains outside, linked with those who enter. Your pre-existing connection would be ideal.”