Endworlds - Nicholas Read [35]
“Who’s this?” he asked.
Eastwood swallowed as he lowered his fork. Lion replied for him.
“Potential recruit, sir. Apparent amnesiac. Has demonstrated some—unusual abilities. Might make a good team member—with proper training.”
The man nodded, and tapped a finger to the tip of his cap. “I heard about Rosen. Shame. Jax, relieve Hummer in the Toymaster role, and stay on as Sniffer.”
He gazed down at the silent Eastwood. “Heard about what you did too. Interesting trick without using tech to pull it off. We’ll talk more about that at length.”
Then to the others: “You did right bringing this one off the street. Keep him close. Real close. I’ll come back to you with a more permanent protocol.” Moving past, he disappeared around a row of compact shelving.
It took Eastwood a moment to find his voice. “Who,” he asked evenly, “was that?”
“Monarch,” Tucker explained between mouthfuls, “is head of the UK cell.”
“His name . . . is he your king?”
Laughing. “No, nothing like that. It’s what they called him. You notice his cap? Never takes it off. When he was a young Longcoat he fell near a seam his group was fighting to close, and his head went through. When they yanked him back his skull had a ring straight around it, with all the hair burned off. Never grew back. It looks kind of like a crown.”
Eastwood considered. “So you call him Monarch. Right. But if he was already one of you—didn’t he already have a name?”
Her reply was forestalled by Hummer’s arrival. Foot-high sandwich in hand, the Russian lumbered into the conversation, brandishing what looked like a glass phone with a diamond faceplate. He spoke apologetically.
“Sorry for intrude, guys, but we is just assigned another gig. They send me down to tell you.”
Lion and Tucker studied the readout on what was decidedly a more advanced piece of technology than a mobile telephone.
“Crap,” she growled. “Another incursion.” She glanced over at Lion. “Also nowhere near a normal vortice point.”
Lion glanced up from tapping at a metal buckle on his coat sleeve, his eyes sharing her concern. “If this keeps happening we’re in danger of the dimensions collapsing onto each other. Drill too many holes into anything and it gets real unstable.”
Then the right forearm panel on his coatsleeve went transparent and lit from within. Words and images flashed on it, briefing Lion on his team’s new mission.
“All right everybody! It’s still before dawn, so we’ll head out and see how fast we can wrap this. Bolt the rest of what you’re eating and check your toys with Jax. We don’t have much time before sunrise and you all know the admonishments: no activity in daylight.”
“What happens in daylight?” Eastwood spoke as he rose from where he had been sitting.
Castle had come up beside him. “Most beings from the other dimensions stay invisible even in direct sunlight. As they lock into phase here they can still wreak havoc, bump into things, get in the way of traffic and the like. At night, we pull out all stops to send them home. But the Foundation absolutely forbids us to pursue them where our actions might be observed. We wait, we track, and we target them the next night. It’s not ideal, but we follow the Cassandran’s rules.” He pointed a finger at Eastwood’s face. “Always remember that.”
Around him the others were handing Jax their heavier devices. She dropped each into its own quantum pocket within her coat, and tapped descriptions of the inventory on each folder that blinked on a wrist device. Out in the field they would draw gear from her like she was a mobile warehouse. In turn she connected her own coat to the central quartermaster store inside the Chimney. If they encountered a situation her communal pool of equipment couldn’t handle, her coat could reach back and draw out other toys. This system of centralized supply made sure everything coming out of a Toymaster’s supply went back in. They couldn’t afford to leave anything for