Stiletto (5 page)

“Barnaby will open the door,” said Odgers, “and I’ll enter first.” Felicity noticed Chopra looking skeptically at the older woman in her ill-fitting armor even as she laid out the strategy for them. She couldn’t blame him. In the Checquy, they were taught not to judge by appearances, but with her multiple chins wobbling heavily, Pawn Odgers was not a sight to inspire confidence in a combat setting.

“Remember,” continued Odgers, “we have to assume that the Homeowner will be aware of us as soon as we enter. So we move quickly.” Felicity, who had the best knowledge of the layout, would lead the way, accompanied by Barnaby and by Cheng in her gaseous form. The rest of the troops would follow closely, ready to kill anything that appeared to be a threat.

“So if something eats Barnaby and me, at least it won’t have time to digest us,” Felicity remarked.

“Exactly,” said Odgers.

“One minute, Pawn Odgers,” the driver called back.

“Right,” said the leader. “Children, be prepped.” Beside Felicity, Pawn Susie Cordingley began quietly singing scales, limbering up her voice. The hairs on the back of Felicity’s neck trembled as her comrade emitted tones that she couldn’t hear but that she felt. To Felicity’s surprise, Cordingley’s voice caused her lip balm to evaporate off her mouth — she could actually see the mist curling away from her lips.

“My apologies, Pawn Clements,” said Cordingley. “Are you using a new brand?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” she said sourly. On the other side of her, Jennings held his hands up as if he were carrying an invisible basketball. To Felicity’s eyes, nothing actually happened, but Jennings nodded in satisfaction. Meanwhile, the other troops were checking their guns or their armor.

The truck stopped with a jolt, turned, and began backing up.

All right, here we go,
thought Felicity. She looked to the back of the van, where Pawn Odgers had stood up. Felicity watched as the lead Pawn took off her glasses, lifted the chain over her head, and stowed them away in a case. She undid her bun and let her thin, graying hair hang free.

Then, as the team watched in fascination, the woman began to un-age. The first thing that caught Felicity’s eye, as always, was the Pawn’s hair. It suddenly grew thick and lustrous, and a startling auburn shimmered through it. The length altered, growing alternately longer and shorter, so that at one point it hung to her waist, and then it was snapping up to her ears. Odgers stood straighter and taller, her shoulders broadening. The uniform slid into place on her body as her stomach shrank and her biceps swelled. Her weathered complexion paled, the tan swirling away like clouds, and the skin on her neck and cheekbones grew tauter. Within moments, she stood before the team as an Amazon with a crew cut. She looked quite capable of seducing a movie star and then beating him to a bleeding pulp.

“Whoa,” said Chopra under his breath.

“You should see her when she’s eighteen,” said Felicity.

“Okay, I’ve got forty-one minutes like this,” said Odgers, “so let’s get moving.” The back door of the van was hauled up, revealing a ramp that led to the front door of the house. The driver of the van had erected a sort of canvas tunnel over the ramp to conceal the assault team from the prying eyes and mobile phones of any passersby.

In an effort not to alert the Homeowner, they had selected a door on the very end of the abandoned row. Felicity had informed them that, as with all but one of the front doors, a thick barricade had been erected behind the entrance, but they did not anticipate that being a problem.

“Clements, confirm there are no new alarms or traps on the door.”

Felicity nodded and trotted down the gangplank to rest her palm on it.

“Clear.”

“Barnaby, go,” said Odgers. The petite Pawn stood up and marched down the ramp with her right hand out. Felicity hastily got out of the way as her teammate walked implacably forward. She did not stop, and her arm did not bend when it hit the door. Instead, the wood glistened and turned murkily transparent. She continued pushing her arm through, and the door and the bricks behind it tore in shreds and slopped down. Under her touch, the material had become gelatinous. Barnaby took a moment to wrench the trembling remnants of the jelly away. Dust drifted in from the opening. Beyond was darkness and the smell of long-abandoned rooms.

“Fix night vision,” said Odgers, and all of them hastily flicked down their visors. The front hall opened up before them out of the murk, painted in shades of green and gray. Once you could actually see it, the place did not make any better an impression. “And move.” They hurried up the staircase in front of them and clustered on the landing. The modifications to the row houses meant that they’d actually entered an area that was completely walled off from the labyrinth, but it brought them on level with the OOM.

“Barnaby, this is the wall,” said Felicity. She held her breath as her colleague placed both hands on the bricks and tore a hole large enough for the biggest person on the team to scuttle through. It was the party wall connecting this house with the one next door, and all the experts had agreed that it was load-bearing. They had
not
all agreed, however, on whether transmuting some of the bricks into collagen would bring the whole thing crashing down. Apparently, it was not the sort of problem that was regularly addressed in engineering school.

Fortunately, Barnaby’s control was precise enough that jellification did not spread out farther than she wanted it to. The wall did not come tumbling down, although there was some alarming creaking.

And thus they proceeded. Odgers had decided that they would cut directly through the maze with Barnaby slicing through any inconvenient walls that blocked their way. They moved as quietly and as quickly as possible.

As they cut across one hallway, Felicity pointed out a booby trap a few meters away. On Odgers’s orders, they paused as Felicity sent her Sight along the floor and up into the interior of the device. Although it was connected to a simple trip wire that crossed the hallway at knee height, the interior was fiendishly complicated, with a multitude of little cogwheels nested around four bulbous, dense vials of mysterious fluid.

“Can you disarm it?” asked Odgers after Felicity had reeled her mind back into her brain.

“I don’t know,” said Felicity. “But I don’t want to suddenly find out that I can’t.”

“That’s fine, we’ll just ignore it, then.”

A few times, they found signs of those who had gone before: a torn piece of cloth on a jag, some footprints made by bare feet blurred in the dirt and dust. There were also many signs of the Homeowner’s presence: Barricades that blocked off certain hallways. Crudely bricked-up doorways. And two more traps, both of them consisting of wires connected to those boxes. Felicity felt a certain amount of satisfaction that they were exactly where she’d remembered them, and Odgers gave her a nod of approval.

“Sir, it’s around this corner, at the end of the hallway,” said Felicity.

Odgers nodded and then addressed thin air. “Pawn Cheng, check it out and report back.” There was, of course, no answer at all, but Odgers seemed satisfied.

“Did — did Pawn Cheng hear her?” Chopra asked Felicity in low tones. “Is she doing it?”

“I’ve no idea,” admitted Felicity. “It’s one of the extremely irritating things about working with her. But if we don’t hear back within five minutes, we’ll come up with something else.” As it happened, it took only two minutes before Cheng swirled out of the air.

“The OOM’s there. It’s just a flat surface,” she said. “It fills the hallway, like a wall.”

“Then let’s go ahead,” said Odgers. “Clements, you move back a little. I want Jennings and Gardiner at the front. Then regular formation.”

When it came time for her to step around the corner, Felicity tensed, but the hallway was quiet except for the sounds of the Checquy troops. She squinted, looking past the two Pawns ahead of her. At the end of the corridor was a smooth blank.

The Oblong of Mystery, which her powers could not read and her Sight could not seep through.

I’m going to be very interested to see what this stuff is. Provided it doesn’t kill me.
The team drew near the surface. Although her visor painted it green, Felicity deduced that it was a mottled gray in color.

“Team, take up positions,” said Odgers. The Pawns laid themselves out in formation, two of them at the back scanning the area behind them, the rest facing the thing ahead. “Cheng, examine.” Felicity nodded slightly. Andrea, with her ability to effectively become invisible and intangible, usually served as the team’s point man. She could evaporate away from any sudden danger.

Pawn Cheng emerged out of the air by the OOM. She was still dressed in her yoga outfit and boots, but she was now wearing latex gloves as well. As everyone watched breathlessly, Cheng reached out cautiously and touched it, then snatched her hand back.

Nothing happened.

She pressed her hand against it, looked at the team, and shrugged.

Odgers gave the hold signal and then proceeded to the wall. Tilting her head in thought, she drew her knife and poked gingerly at the surface. It gave a little, and she poked a bit harder. She drew her knife back and examined it.

“Blood,” she said. “It’s... alive.”

“How bizarre,” Felicity said. “So
that’s
why my Sight slid off it.” To Chopra’s questioning look, she explained, “My powers can’t penetrate living things... and this creature actually fills two rooms, completely.”

“Gardiner, Cordingley, keep your positions and alert me if it does anything. The rest of you, fall back around the corner,” said Odgers. They retreated cautiously, unwilling to turn their backs on the unnerving surface. Even once they were out of sight of the thing, they kept their guns at the ready.

“This is a bit big for us. I want some advice from someone who makes more than I do,” said Odgers. She stepped away from the group and put her hand to her earpiece. “O’Rourke, this is Odgers. I’m going to need a direct line to the ops center at the Rookery.”

“What’s happening, Jennings?” asked Barnaby quietly.

“Well, apparently it’s a big fucking monster that’s eaten some people, i’n’it?” said Jennings. “If we’re going to kill it, we’ll need some backup and preparation.”

“You know, that thing doesn’t look like it’s doing anything,” said Chopra. “Maybe it’s asleep?”

“Until the chief poked it with a knife,” muttered Barnaby.

“So, do we think that whole oblong thing is the Homeowner, then?” asked Buchanan.

“Well, I don’t think it’s part of the original decor,” said Jennings. “But it doesn’t look like it can go out and fetch the victims. It wouldn’t fit through the door.”

“Maybe it just summons people?” suggested Felicity.

“Maybe the Homeowner feeds these people to it?” suggested Pawn Chopra.

“I don’t see a mouth,” said Jennings. “But that doesn’t mean anything. Pawn Rutledge at the Annexe doesn’t have a mouth most of the time.”

“I can’t see this thing laying down traps and motion detectors,” said Felicity.

Odgers tilted her head as she listened to voices coming down her earpiece, and then she rejoined the group. “Okay, well, they want to send a science team to examine it. We’ll be escorting them when they arrive.”

“So, what now?” asked Chopra.

“We’ve found it, and it doesn’t appear to be doing anything interesting. I don’t think shooting it is going to help much, especially since we don’t even know where its head is. So we’ll just fall back, nice and quiet and careful, and then once we’re out, we’ll secure the street.” The team was arranging itself to retreat when Cordingley held up a hand.

“Do you hear that?” she asked. They all held their breath and listened carefully. Nobody heard anything. “It’s coming from inside the OOM.”

“What do you hear?” asked Odgers. “Stomach rumblings?”

Or screams,
thought Felicity, although she didn’t say it. Everyone was tense again, guns once more at the ready.

“It’s music,” said Cordingley.

“Music?” repeated Odgers. “What kind of music?”

“Instrumental,” said the singing Pawn. “Like orchestral. I don’t know the composer.”

“We’ll have to check it,” said Odgers. Once again, the team moved around the corner and drew a little closer to the OOM. The flat pale surface did not appear any different.

Well,
I’m
not putting my ear against that thing,
Felicity thought firmly. She watched with interest as Odgers tried to think through the implications of the music. Then Felicity saw the wall of the OOM shiver.

“It’s moving!” she shouted. Six guns and three hands were immediately pointed at the surface. Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Cordingley open her mouth and take a deep, controlled breath.

“Move back!” yelled Odgers. “Jennings, if something comes at us, torch it! Barnaby, on my word, you make us an exit.”

As they backed away, lines appeared on the object’s surface, marking out a large
X
. They grew broad, and Felicity realized they were actually seams in the flesh. Where they met, the corners began to curl out, and from the chinks, light poured into the hallway, flaring in their night vision. Wincing, her eyes burning, Felicity hastily flipped up the visor.

She squinted as the triangles hinged open, like the valves of a heart. Light and music filled the corridor. It was not clear whether this development warranted a retreat. Felicity kept her gun trained on the opening and waited for her orders.

Oh, that music is Bruckner,
she thought absently.
Symphony no. 8.
She resisted the urge to point this out to Cordingley, as it didn’t seem like the best time. The Pawns were braced for something disastrous to happen, but instead, the music grew quieter, and an amused-sounding voice emerged from the opening.

“Please come in, we should talk.”

The Pawns looked at one another and then at Odgers. Odgers looked at her watch and then at the opening.
You’ve got to be kidding me,
thought Felicity. This seemed like the easiest decision in the world to make.