"We are."
"Why?" His suspicion was reflexive. "That is not your job. The eight of you are not laborers."
"We know how much this matters to you," Number One said, and into the words the collective wove the thread, gentle and warm and beneath the surface of Losham's attention, the suggestion threading through the cadence. "We want you to have peace of mind. It's handled, and you can rest."
The exhale on the other side of the line signaled a profound relief. "That's very kind of you. Thank you."
"We are your allies, Losham. Have a good night. We will report in the morning." Number One ended the call and turned to Yamanu. "Losham will not interfere."
Number One was about to return the phone to his pocket when the collective flagged the other thread tonight that had been left dangling.
Anita.
She was asleep in the suite at the hotel, thralled to stay that way until morning, and in the morning the brothel would send the handler to collect her, and the Eight would not be there to manage it. The handler would knock, but she would not answer because she was thralled to sleep until roused by the Eight.
The fix was the one they had intended to use in a few days, when they were readying to transport everyone they were taking with them to a ship.
They would just book another day and night with Anita.
Number One dialed the brothel.
"This is Number One," he said. "We are keeping Anita through tomorrow, so don't send the handler to fetch her tomorrow morning. She is resting, and we do not wish her disturbed."
He let the suggestion ride underneath the words, smoothing the clerk's mild reflex to confirm against a schedule before it could form.
"Two days," the clerk repeated. "Of course. No one will disturb her."
"Thank you."
Number One ended the second call and pocketed the phone, and the collective turned its attention to the question of who was going topside and how.
Number Seven and Number Four walked over to a supportive beam that was still standing. Number Seven planted his back against the stone and laced his hands into a stirrup, and Number Four braced beside him. Number Two stepped into Number Seven's locked hands, and was launched upward in a single coordinated heave, caught the lip of the breach, and pulled himself over the edge into the yard above in one fluid motion. The whole maneuver had been executed without a word passing between any of them because no words were needed.
"Impressive." Anandur clapped his hands. "Dinner and a show, just without the dinner." He turned to Yamanu. "If we're staying, we will need to get more provisions."
As the two continued talking about field rations, three more of the Eight were propelled up by the same method.
Above them, the four expanded the collective's awareness, spreading it out across the dark to intercept anything that might approach. The four below turned to the rubble. The network was stretched thinner across the separation, but they were close enough that it wasn't really a strain.
"There's a problem with the digging," Anandur said, eyeing the four who remained. "We've already collapsed this thing once tonight. We need to be careful not to cause another one. The question is how hard do we want to push?"
The collective did not need to confer, because it had already resolved the calculus on the descent.
"As hard as we can without burying ourselves," Number One said.
25
KIAN
Kian stood at the head of the round table with his hand flat on its surface, waiting to find out whether the operation he'd spent months building had just died.
The Eight were in the basement, and Drova's compulsion didn't work on them. They had seen the team, the Kra-ell, the Odus, and the three chests that had already been extracted. They knew that the clan had run a second covert operation while letting them believe that they were going to deliver the chests. They could interpret that in two ways. One was that it had been done to ensure that no one got to the chests before the clan did, which was the real reason, or that the Eight were a backup in case the clan failed the task.
Eight enhanced soldiers, who were immune to compulsion and harder to kill than any other immortals, had just learned that they had been deceived by their supposed allies, whom they were trusting to assist them and the people they were about to rescue from the island.
There were a number of ways this could go.
They could walk, withdraw their cooperation, abandon the women and the scientists, and leave the clan's team in the basement to deal on their own with an army of immortal warriors. They could also retaliate, either on their own or with the help of regular Brotherhood soldiers. Or they could pretend to be friendly, cooperate, and bide their time to exact their revenge later.
