Cracks in Reality (Seams in Reality Book 2) (5 page)

"What are you two doing in there?" she said. "Open the door."

He reluctantly disengaged from Charley. The good news was they were still wearing clothes. If Tonya had come a minute later, the situation could've been much more embarrassing.

Andrew opened the door. "What's wrong? We're not doing anything."

Tonya was wearing a long nightgown with a red and blue floral pattern printed on it. A lack of makeup on her face made the age lines more obvious. She was frowning deeply.

"Don't lie to me," she said. "You and Charley were throwing off the kind of sparks that leads to complications."

"We were?" Andrew said innocently.

Tonya walked into the bedroom. She glared, and Charley turned red.

"I obviously have to lay down some rules," Tonya said. "While you're living in my house, there will be no sex."

"Why?" Andrew said.

"I'm a prude, and it's dangerous."

"I was planning to use protection. I always carry a condom in my wallet."

"You do?" Charley said in a tone of surprise.

"A condom can't protect your brain," Tonya said. "When sorcerers make love, it's more than just a physical act. Your minds join together, too. The experience is far too intense for an unprepared apprentice."

"Have you had sex?"

"Of course, but never with another sorcerer. It's too risky. Only with normal men. Listen, you're at a critical phase in your training. Something like this could throw you off for months, and we don't have months. God knows what Blake is doing out there. Abstinence must be the rule until the mission is over, and then we will discuss the safe way to proceed if you're still interested."

Andrew glanced at Charley. He couldn't imagine not being interested in her.

"Now go back to your room," Tonya told Andrew. "You've studied enough for tonight."

He reluctantly walked across the hall and entered his own bedroom. The furnishings were more Spartan than Charley's room. There was just a bed, a desk, and a bookcase, all made of plain, lacquered wood. He had no toys or stuffed animals. A brown blanket covered the bed which was big enough for two, but sadly, there would only be one occupant.

Andrew closed the door harder than necessary out of frustration. It wasn't fair. After months of patient work, he had finally overcome Charley's reluctance to take the next step in their relationship. Now he would have to wait until Blake was dead.

Andrew snarled. If he needed any more motivation to finish his assignment quickly, he had it now.

* * *

Blake looked down a long, round tunnel. Thick steel girders formed a framework which supported the roof, but there appeared to be far more steel than was necessary. Pipes and cable ducts snaked between the girders into the darkness at the far end of the tunnel. Debris littered the concrete floor, ranging from rocks to rusted components from sophisticated equipment. A string of bare incandescent bulbs provided all the light.

"When was this abandoned?" Blake said.

"1985," a real estate agent in a yellow blazer replied. "All the Titan II missile sites were decommissioned in the 80's. The upkeep was too expensive even for the government."

Blake imagined the facility when it was still operational. The US Air Force had kept a rotating team of airmen on duty for decades. The fleet of Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles always had to be ready to answer a Soviet attack.

He walked down the tunnel with a flashlight in hand, and the real estate agent followed. Two of Blake's bodyguards trailed several paces behind. Both men wore civilian clothes but odd bulges revealed the presence of body armor underneath.

Blake reached a silo at the end of the tunnel. It was a vertical tube which had once contained a Titan II missile. Sunlight leaked in from a circular opening above his head. The rusty remnants of equipment were attached to the cracked concrete walls. A lot of junk had fallen to the bottom along with plenty of dirt. He pointed his flashlight at the debris pile several levels below. The access stairway had broken off, so there was no easy way to get down.

"What are you thinking about doing with this place?" the real estate agent said. "Are you another one of those preppers?"

Blake turned to him. The agent was a Native American, and he had a necklace made of silver and turquoise.

"Preppers?" Blake said.

"Those guys who are preparing for the end of the world or whatever. They've been buying up these silos and turning them into underground survival bunkers."

"No. I'm actually going to make it my home. I want to live here."

"Out in the middle of the desert?" the agent said.

"I like my privacy. Let's go back to the control room."

They retraced their steps and arrived at the section where the missile crews had lived and worked. It had three levels with the control room in the middle. Almost all of the equipment had been torn out long ago, but empty computer racks remained. Bolt holes in the floor showed where the main consoles had stood. Everything was made of thick steel painted green. A bewildering maze of pipes ran overhead, and Blake couldn't imagine why all of them were necessary. He was amazed at the sophistication and complexity of a facility built to launch a single missile.

"This room is resting on giant shock absorbers," the real estate agent said. "It was designed to survive an atomic bomb."

"Impressive," Blake said.

He glanced at his two bodyguards. Both men were muscular and had the straight postures of soldiers. Blake quickly used sorcery to make sure the mind-control was working properly, and it was. If they managed to escape from his control, they would probably kill him immediately out of revenge.

Blake climbed a staircase to the upper level which had served as the bedroom for the missile crews. The frames of bunk beds remained. The bathroom was missing its toilet and other plumbing fixtures. A low, domed ceiling made the space feel cramped.

The real estate agent followed Blake up. "Do you have any more questions?"

"I don't think so," Blake said. "It's perfect. What's the price?"

"Two million dollars."

"We have a deal. I'll pay in cash and close immediately."

The agent's eyes lit up. "Great! All the paperwork is back in my office."

"Then let's go. I can't wait to move in."

* * *

A kick to the face stunned Andrew.

"Come on," Tungsten said. "You must have better reflexes than that."

Andrew staggered back and rubbed his cheek. The hard blow had hurt, but he wasn't injured. Tungsten had applied exactly the right amount of force to teach Andrew a lesson.

"Is this really necessary?" Andrew said. "Blake isn't going to kick me in the head. He's an old man."

"But he might have somebody else do it."

Andrew looked to Charley for support, but she just shrugged. Like him, she was wearing a white karate uniform with a white belt. Her face was red from exertion, and drops of sweat dotted her forehead. Her long brown hair was a mess.

"Focus on me," Tungsten said. "I'm your enemy."

Andrew turned his attention back to his instructor. Tungsten's uniform was threadbare from hard use. It didn't close properly across his huge chest leaving his black chest hair exposed. Brown eyes stared back at Andrew with unblinking intensity.

"I'll go a little slower," Tungsten said.

His right leg swung around. The kick was slower this time but not by much. Andrew managed to get both his arms up, but the hard impact still jostled him. He had trouble staying in his stance.

"OK," Tungsten said. "Next time, finish the combination."

He kicked again. After blocking the attack, Andrew responded with a side-kick to Tungsten's midsection, but Andrew was off-balance. His foot missed the target entirely.

Tungsten sighed. "Terrible. Where is your focus today?"

"The session with Tonya was rough."

"You always say that. It's starting to sound like a lazy excuse."

"He's absolutely right," Tonya said.

The master sorcerer walked into the training room. She was wearing a black dress with white metallic hems. A gray shawl was wrapped around her shoulders.

"Martial arts is as much a mental discipline as a physical one," she said. "Focus is always essential. That's why I scheduled this class immediately after your sorcery practice. I wanted you to fight through the exhaustion."

"But...," Andrew said.

"There are no 'buts.' Your enemy won't give you a break just because you're tired, and neither will I."

Tungsten nodded. "Exactly."

She turned to him. "What do you know about sorcery?"

"The BPI gave me a full briefing."

"Now I'm curious. Elaborate, please."

He straightened his back and shoulders as if speaking to a superior officer. "Sorcerers exploit instabilities in space to produce phenomenon which would normally be impossible."

"We call those instabilities 'seams'," Tonya said.

"Yes."

"That hardly captures the essence of the art. Dan, you have more experience. Would you like to take a stab at it?"

Dan Easton widened his eyes in obvious surprise. He was assisting with the martial arts training, but with only two students in the class, Tungsten didn't need much help. Dan just watched or worked out on his own most of the time. His karate uniform wasn't nearly as sweaty as Andrew's or Charley's.

"I can try," Dan said. "Sorcerers use their mental powers to change the world, but they need seams for energy."

"Closer," Tonya said, "but you're still missing the point. I'm concerned you're ill-prepared for this mission. When Andrew and Charley are finally ready to go hunting for Blake, you'll be responsible for their physical safety. Andrew is a war mage, and he can protect himself from any kind of sorcery, but he's vulnerable to guns and knives which is why he needs you. Charley isn't even a war mage. You'll depend on each other for survival."

She looked back and forth between Dan and Tungsten. Andrew knew they were his designated bodyguards, but he wasn't looking forward to a long road trip with them. Neither BPI agent was very friendly.

"I've won battles on every continent," Tungsten said. "I'm prepared for anything."

Tonya raised her eyebrows. "No, you're not. Seams aren't instabilities in space. They are instabilities in
truth
. They are places where imagination, belief, and reality blur together. A seam is a crack in the wall separating our minds from each other and the world at large. A sorcerer can attack your mind directly."

"My mind is as hard as my body. I survived a Syrian prison. I'll be fine."

She snorted. "I think a demonstration is in order. Follow me, all of you."

She left the room. Everybody else was still wearing their martial arts gear, but they followed regardless.

Tonya turned a corner and headed towards the seam chamber. Andrew was astonished. Normally, BPI agents only went inside that room when the sorcerers were away. Tonya clearly intended to violate that rule.

Dan balked. "Hold on. What exactly are you planning?"

She stopped walking and turned to him. "Andrew and Charley are very dear to me, and they have an exceptionally dangerous assignment ahead of them. I will do anything to make them safer, even if that means giving a couple of thick-skulled federal agents a lesson in psychic defense."

Dan gulped. "I don't think regulations allow that."

"Circumstances justify bending the rules a little."

Tungsten still had an expression of arrogant confidence.
Fool,
Andrew thought.

"And the BPI already gave us some training in how to resist sorcery," Dan said.

"Was an actual sorcerer involved?" Tonya said.

"Uh, no. It was just a classroom lecture."

Tonya rolled her eyes. "In other words, a waste of time."

She opened the steel door of the chamber using a long key code. She pulled open the door with both hands, and everybody went inside.

"I've never been in here," Tungsten said. "I always wondered what was inside."

Shelves along all the walls held a tremendous variety of supplies. Raw materials such as flasks of water, wooden blocks, iron ingots, and copper plates were intended for practicing transmutation. A variety of three-dimensional puzzles could hone visualization skills. Toys, coins, crystals, and other odd items were for inspiring illusions. The chamber even included a few electronic games for testing mental focus. Yesterday, Tonya had made Andrew play a game while standing in an illusion of boiling hot oil.

"This isn't what I expected." Tungsten walked over to the marble machine and stared at it with a curious expression. "Where is the seam?"

"It's invisible to normal people," Tonya said. "What did you expect to see?"

"Magic wands and pointy hats, I suppose. Wizard stuff."

"Like this?"

She had transformed into the classic portrayal of a wizard. She was wearing a robe covered in stars and moons. A long white beard went down to her belly. An oak staff in her hand had a glowing white crystal on the end. Andrew knew it was just an illusion, but he was still impressed. The complexity and the attention to detail were amazing. He could also make illusions, but his were simpler.

Tungsten stared at her. He obviously couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Sorry," Tonya said. "Just having a little fun." She snapped her fingers and returned to normal.

"How the hell did you do that?" he said in a tone of dismay.

"That was nothing."

"I've seen enough," Dan said in an unsteady voice. "Thanks for the demonstration. I'll be going now."

Tonya waved her hand and the door vanished. A blank concrete wall appeared to take its place.

"You can go when I tell you to go," she said.

Dan stepped back with a shocked expression.

It was another illusion. Andrew decided to test himself and try to see through it. He concentrated intently on the make-believe wall. He knew Tonya was just making him think it existed, and the trick was entirely in his head. To perceive the truth, he would have to banish her irrational influence. He performed mental counting exercises designed to restore order to his mind. He used specific images to control his thoughts. The wall faded, and the door was revealed to Andrew, but Dan and Tungsten would still see the wall.