Cracks in Reality (Seams in Reality Book 2) (11 page)

Chapter Five

Andrew stepped out of the car and looked at the private jet which would fly him to Washington. The jet was dark blue with the official logo of the BPI painted on the hatch. The logo was a black gear with a white ruler and an electrical bolt drawn on top.

He was standing in a hanger. The air was cold enough to freeze his breath, but at least the concrete floor was free of snow. He was tired of shuffling cautiously across icy sidewalks.

Tonya and Charley joined him. All three of them were heavily bundled, and only their faces were exposed. Charley had a white jacket, but her hat and mittens were a shocking pink. Thermal underwear made her blue jeans a little puffy. Tonya's clothes were somber grays and blacks, and instead of mittens, she wore black leather gloves.

The hatch of the aircraft was already open. The sorcerers pulled their luggage out of the trunk of the car, hurried over to the jet, climbed a staircase, and entered. Andrew looked down an aisle at twenty seats in ten rows. The blue chairs were bigger and more thickly padded than the ones in normal passenger airlines.

Agents Dan Easton and Tungsten were already seated up front. Both men wore the generic blue suits of BPI agents which matched the upholstery almost perfectly. Dan was athletic, but at least his body parts had normal proportions. Tungsten was such a physical freak, his suit didn't fit right. The fabric was stretched tight across his massive chest and shoulders.

Andrew wasn't surprised to see the agents. They were his and Charley's designated bodyguards.

Andrew nodded and smiled politely but sat a few seats back from the agents. He wasn't great friends with either of them. He respected their skills, and the men always had a professional demeanor, but there was an inevitable lack of trust. BPI agents had fundamentally different motivations than sorcerers. They worked together out of necessity rather than desire.

Charley sat across the aisle from Andrew, and Tonya sat behind them.

The crew of the aircraft didn't waste any time, and it was flying through a cloudy sky a few minutes later. Powerful jet engines whined loudly just outside the windows. Sunlight entered the cabin from the right side.

Tonya leaned forward. "This will be a quick flight. You might as well use the time to practice sorcery."

"But we don't have a seam," Andrew said.

"That doesn't mean you can't meditate and do mental exercises."

He nodded unenthusiastically. He hated practicing without a seam. His thoughts were sluggish, and his mind was trapped inside the tiny prison of his skull. Casting even the simplest illusion was impossible. He could sense the special energy in other sorcerers, but otherwise, he had all the limitations of a normal person. It was like the most interesting part of his brain was asleep.

Andrew complied nonetheless. He didn't know what his final exam would be, but a little more preparation couldn't hurt.

He performed visualization exercises. He imagined his favorite sports cars in as much detail as possible. He tacked on fins, racing stripes, and even a little road grime. The challenge was keeping all of it in his head at once. As he slipped into a deeper meditative state, the task became easier even without a seam.

After an hour and a half, a strange sensation broke his focus. He looked over at Charley and detected a distortion in her energy signature. Her lips were pressed together, and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

"What are you doing?" Andrew whispered.

"Trying cold sorcery," she said in a tight voice.

He furrowed his brow. Cold sorcery was casting spells without the benefit of a seam.

"Any luck?"

She shook her head. "No. It's way too hard. It's like trying to punch through a steel wall."

Andrew looked back at Tonya. "What are the rules about cold sorcery?"

"There aren't any," she said. "Most sorcerers can't do it, and the few who can are very limited."

"Can you?"

"It's been years since I tried. I can give it a shot."

Andrew and Charley stood up so they could get a better view of their instructor. Tonya raised her index finger and held it in front of her face. Her eyes locked onto the tip of her finger.

Nothing seemed to happen for a few minutes. Andrew sensed Tonya's energy swelling, but her power was muted without a seam. Her cheek twitched. A blood vessel in her forehead throbbed.

A pinprick of green light appeared above her finger. It was almost too faint to see, but it was there.

Tonya abruptly relaxed and let out her breath. The light instantly vanished.

"Whew! That took everything I had."

Andrew and Charley broke into spontaneous applause. He could hardly believe what he had witnessed.

"OK," Tonya said. "Simmer down. Get back in your seats. We're going to land soon."

As if on cue, the nose of the airplane tilted down, and the engines changed pitch. Andrew sat down and buckled his seat belt. He was still in awe of Tonya's accomplishment.

Maybe one day I'll be as powerful as her,
he thought.

* * *

Andrew looked out the car window at a suburb of Washington, DC. There was just a light dusting of snow on the ground. The homes were two or occasionally three stories tall. Extensive use of pillars, arches, stonework, and stained glass told him rich people lived in the neighborhood.

Andrew was riding in a limousine with Charlie and Tungsten, and two more BPI agents were in the front. Tonya and Dan had taken a separate car because there wasn't room for everybody in one.

Andrew turned to Tungsten. "I just realized we've spent a lot of time together, but I don't know anything about you. How long have you been in the BPI?"

"Actually, I'm not an agent," Tungsten said. "I'm a contractor. They hired me just for this assignment."

"To teach martial arts to Charley and me?"

"And to protect you. I was an Army Ranger. I had just retired when I got the call from the BPI."

"Why did you retire?" Andrew said. "You're still in fantastic condition. You definitely look like you could fight a battle."

"Fifteen years of service seemed like enough, and the military bureaucracy was getting on my nerves. You can say 'yes, sir' to idiotic orders only so many times in a life."

"But if you wanted to retire, why did you agree to work for the BPI?"

"After a month of sitting on my ass," Tungsten said, "I was starting to go stir-crazy. The BPI promised me a different kind of mission against a different kind of enemy, and they delivered."

"That's true. If we find Blake, make sure to stay away, or he'll do very bad things to your mind."

"I'm planning to just shoot him dead if I see him."

"That works, too," Andrew said.

He spotted a small, blue sign which read, "Bureau of Physical Investigation." The car pulled into a spacious lot in front of a brown brick building. He had been here once before, but the idea of entering a top-secret, government installation still gave him a thrill. He felt like a secret agent.

After the car parked, he stepped out and looked at the headquarters building. It was really a fortress in disguise. The squat architecture and slot windows hinted at its true purpose. Plenty of surveillance cameras ran along the edge of the roof, and Andrew expected more were hidden. He also imagined concealed weapons were placed at strategic locations. All the security was designed to stop renegade sorcerers. It was supposed to be a place where normal people could feel safe.

The second car pulled up. Andrew, Charley, Tonya, Dan, and Tungsten regrouped. Four other BPI agents accompanied them as they entered the building.

The first checkpoint was at the entry. Everybody had to show proof of identity, even the BPI agents. The guards at the desk also took fingerprints and photographs of faces. All the data was sent to another office for verification.

Finally, the group was allowed to enter the building. The ground floor was just office space, and Andrew saw meeting rooms, cubicles, and private offices. Men and women in business attire were quietly working at computers or talking to each other. They glanced at the sorcerers with expressions of concern. Andrew didn't feel very welcome.

The group reached a second checkpoint at the center of the building. The entire authentication process was repeated, but this time, the guards were at a remote location. They interacted using a two-way video conference system. Two machine guns on robotic mounts emphasized the seriousness of the procedure.

The BPI agents had to go through an additional step. They stuck their forearms into a slot in a big machine and waited for a green light to flash. When the men removed their arms, drops of blood dotted their skin. Andrew had learned previously that it was a test designed to detect the influence of sorcery. Apparently, mind-control or any kind of mental magic left chemical traces in the blood.

When it was Dan's turn, the light flashed red instead of green. The machine guns instantly swung around and aimed for his body.

"Wait!" Tonya raised her hands. "Stop! This is my fault. He got a little too involved in one of our training sessions."

One of the guards looked at her through the conference system. He had gray hair and a sour expression on his face.

"What do you mean?" he said. "Agents are supposed to stay away during your training."

"I know, but it happened. He's not under any kind of nefarious influence. I'll vouch for him."

The guard frowned. "He can't go downstairs. He'll have to wait for you in the lobby. The Director might also want to debrief him."

"That's fine," Tonya said. "We don't need him at the moment."

Dan's face showed dismay, but he kept quiet.

Tungsten also failed the test for the same reason. He and Dan went back to where they had entered headquarters.

The sorcerers didn't take the blood test because they would automatically fail. Their blood was full of the byproducts of magic.

Four BPI agents remained with the group. Everybody entered a large elevator, and after the doors closed, it went down. The fun parts of headquarters were buried deep underground.

As the elevator made its long descent, Andrew wondered what other security measures the BPI had up its sleeve. He didn't doubt the BPI was keeping its best cards hidden. They didn't trust sorcerers, and sorcerers didn't trust them. It wasn't obvious how to improve the uncomfortable situation.

The doors opened. Everybody stepped out into a circular tunnel cut straight through bedrock. Fluorescent panels attached to the ceiling cast glaring, bluish light. The group walked forward, and their footsteps echoed on the rock floor.

They passed other tunnels which branched off. Andrew looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of something interesting. A window gave him a view into a science laboratory full of equipment and computers. A giant ball made of copper mesh had a plastic chair in the center, and wires were attached to hundreds of sensors on the exterior.

Andrew detected the energy of three other sorcerers ahead. He recognized the signatures of Keene and Richard who were also members of the Sorcerer's Tribunal. Andrew didn't know the third sorcerer, but his energy was weaker.

Andrew and the rest of his group eventually arrived at the domed chamber where the Tribunal met. A bronze plate in the center of the roof showed the logo of the BPI. The same logo was carved into a pair of giant, wooden doors. The chamber was furnished like a courtroom with the judges at one end and chairs for an audience at the other.

Tonya sat behind the judge's bench with the five other members of the Tribunal. In addition to the three sorcerers, there were three BPI agents.

The most important agent was Frank Webster, Director of the BPI. He had short, straight, brown hair. His gaunt face revealed as much emotion as a block of granite. He was big and beefy for a high-ranking bureaucrat. He sat in black robes with a perfectly straight posture.

A tall man with wild blond hair was seated in the center of the chamber. Andrew could tell from his energy that the man was the mystery sorcerer. He was biting his lip and glancing to the side nervously.

Andrew and Charley found seats in the gallery.

"We heard you had trouble getting in," Frank Webster said.

"It was nothing." Tonya made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

He raised his eyebrows. "Two agents tested positive."

"They got a little too close during an intense training session. It was an accident. It won't happen again."

Andrew knew Tonya was lying. Nothing about that session had been accidental.

Webster raised his eyebrows. "I see. Perhaps we should discuss this privately."

"If you want," Tonya said. "Shall we begin?"

He faced forward. "I call to order the four hundred and thirty-fourth meeting of the Sorcerer's Tribunal," he declared. "Today's case is a violation of regulations 18-C and 18-D by one Vivian Bernard. We have a witness in the court. Please, state your name and relationship to the accused. Then give us your testimony."

The sorcerer with blond hair cleared his throat and stood up.

"Yes, your honor," he said. "I'm Morris Shanis. I visited Vivian at her seam probably a few dozen times. She has been experimenting with organic sorcery. I saw her do it with my own eyes. She even bragged about it to me."

Andrew knew organic sorcery was manipulating the sprites which clustered around seams. It was an infernal art. Sprites were usually harmless, but under the right conditions, they could grow into deadly monsters called banshees. Andrew had personally witnessed the mass carnage left behind by a banshee attack. Intentionally messing with sprites was extremely reckless.

"Could you be more specific?" Richard said. "What exactly was she doing with the sprites?"

He owned the Manassas seam, the biggest in the country. He had a gray beard, a long gray mustache, and unkempt gray hair. His left eye was squinting, but his right eye was normal. He was wearing an old-fashioned cloak made of a coarse brown material, and the hood was thrown back.

"Making them into pets," Morris said. "Dogs, mostly. She actually played fetch with them."