"The question is how to reach the clan," Dimitri said, steering the conversation back to practical grounds.
"What about my Morse code idea?" Mattie asked.
She looked between them, her eyes bright with excitement over solving the problem.
Dimitri didn't want to be the one to crush it. He glanced at Petrov, hoping his mentor would show restraint for a change.
But he should have known that was too much to hope for with the guy.
"Smoke signals." Petrov set down his fork. "And what would you say to those distant immortals? What can you say using Morse code that will convince them to come help us?"
Mattie's cheeks flushed. "When you say it like that?—"
"There is no other way to say it. Even if we could produce controlled smoke patterns visible from orbit, which is highly questionable given that satellite imagery resolution varies enormously and smoke dissipates in the wind, Morse codeis a telegraph system designed for short, simple messages. SOS. Stop. Help. It was never intended to convey complex information like 'Hello, we are scientists and enhanced soldiers trapped on a Brotherhood island, and we would like to discuss a partnership involving the liberation of two thousand women and children, please call us at your earliest convenience.'"
The flush on Mattie's cheeks deepened from pink to crimson. "I was trying to build on what you suggested earlier. You're the one who brought up smoke signals."
"That was sarcasm."
"Well, I didn't know that, did I? You said it with a straight face."
"I say everything with a straight face. That's how sarcasm works."
"No, that's how bad sarcasm works. Good sarcasm has inflection. It's not just what you say, but how you say it, and without the change in tonality, it can be mistaken for a genuine statement."
"Russian sarcasm doesn't need inflection. Life’s difficulties are implied."
Dimitri pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh. Watching these two argue was like watching a chess match between players who were using different rule books. Petrov operated on logic and cynicism, Mattie on intuition and hope, and when they collided, the result was mostly entertaining but sometimes productive.
"The concept wasn't bad," Dimitri said, attempting diplomacy. "The problem is resolution and bandwidth. Even the best commercial satellites can resolve objects down to about thirty centimeters, which means any visual message would need to bevery large and very clear. And Morse code, as Petrov pointed out, is limited to short transmissions. We need to convey complex information like who we are, what we're offering, and what we need. We need direct communication."
Mattie's cheeks returned to their natural color, which was basically translucent because she was so pale, and she nodded her acceptance of his much more diplomatic explanation.
"So, what does that leave us with?" she asked.
"The phone," Petrov said. "It's the only viable option."
Dimitri had been circling the same conclusion since Dave had left, and Petrov had probably arrived at it even earlier. The phone line between Losham and the clan was the only existing channel of communication.
The problem was that it was Losham's phone, in Losham's possession, used exclusively by Losham.
"Like most people, Losham most likely keeps his phone on him at all times," Dimitri said. "But he probably puts it on to charge during the night when he sleeps. As far as I know, he doesn't live in the mansion. He has his own house, but it's probably just as well guarded, and with his brothers circling like sharks, his security protocol has no doubt been elevated to code red."
"Dave can handle the guards," Mattie said.
"The guards aren't the real problem." Petrov pushed his empty tray aside and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. "The surveillance cameras are. Dave can thrall every guard in the house and around it, but if the security cameras are recording, they would be seen by the guys in the control roomdoing something they are not supposed to, and very possibly reinforcements would be sent to stop them."
Mattie frowned. "Can't Dave thrall the guards in the surveillance room too? Make them turn off the cameras?"
Petrov raised an eyebrow. "That would be noticed. A gap in the surveillance footage would be investigated."
"Not all the cameras need to be turned off," Dimitri said.
Both of them turned to look at him.
The idea was forming as he spoke. "Dave doesn't need to shut down the entire system. He needs the surveillance room guards to disconnect the feeds from Losham's bedroom. One of the Eight can just enter through the window instead of going through the whole house. Just that feed, and just for a limited window. An hour. The rest of the house surveillance stays active. The guards monitoring the feeds are thralled to believe that this particular camera malfunctioned. It's much less suspicious than the entire system in Losham's house going dark for an hour."
Petrov's eyes narrowed. "It's not that easy. I think Dave will have a much easier time disabling the surveillance of the entire house than fishing for one camera. Also, Losham's house might have its own surveillance, instead of being controlled from the central monitoring office."
