Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Rissa was doing ok after that transfer. She'd done it slower so her mind wouldn't be harmed, but they still had hours left before she had to return to OutLink's Enclave.
And while she knew she should tell him she was fine, she also didn't want to ruin the moment, so she decided to try something else.
"Were you going to have that smoke?"
His lips split into a grin. "I think you're getting addicted to my bad habits. But yeah, I'd like one." His eyes scanned the area around them. "I also need to ask you a question."
"Ok."
"Not for me," he admitted, tipping his head toward a staircase which led underground. "The subway should be pretty empty at this time of day."
She reached up for his arm, using that as her answer. Sin escorted her to the stairs, then took his time going down them so she didn't have to rush to keep up. It almost felt like something had shifted between them. Like they'd finally figured each other out today.
When they reached the bottom, the platform was completely empty.
Sin grunted in his form of approval, then pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
He flicked the lighter, holding it to the tip, and she watched his hands under the gloves.
Only three fingers had obvious tendons, so two of them must be artificial.
He didn't like to talk about it, though.
It was almost enough to distract her from the crackling of the paper as his cigarette caught, then he exhaled. Unable to stop herself, Rissa inhaled, loving the scent. The burning tobacco, even if it was synthetically grown, still smelled so much more natural than anything in the Enclave.
"What station is this?" she asked, looking around.
"Montgomery and 72nd," he said. "Why?"
She fussed with her mouth, then realized he was watching her closely, most likely trying to figure out what she was doing. "The only security camera here is on the tunnel entrance. It means we're not being watched."
Taking a long suck at the cigarette, he moved his back to the wall, well out of sight of the camera. "So, Benedict said he has a question, but it comes in two parts."
"That seems wise," she admitted. "What is the first part?"
He looked down to watch his foot as he scuffed it against the concrete. "He wants to know what you think the purpose of life is."
Her eyes narrowed. "To be lived."
"And that's all?" Sin asked. "Because I got the impression this part is a test."
"If you would like a longer answer, then I can tell you there is no universal purpose of life.
It is something that would be unique for every individual, from plant to animal, and more.
A bacteria does not strive to make great art.
A human might not be able to reproduce to carry on their own legacy.
Our circumstances dictate the rest, and everything lives under different circumstances.
" She exhaled, the sound almost a sigh. "Often, people hope I can give them simple and universal answers to things that are neither simple nor universal. I believe I also know why he asked."
He leaned forward, lifting his head to meet her eyes and a smile took over his mouth. "Yeah?"
She pressed her lips together, debating the wisdom of her next words. "He knows there's a problem in your Legion, and it's bigger than I guessed."
His smile faded, and she saw the muscles of his jaw tense. "I thought we were doing well for a minute there."
"We are," she said. "That's why you need to know this. Sin, the answer isn't always the one you want. My answer also isn't a judgment."
He nodded, gesturing for her to go on.
"Something's going on with the Legion, and I think you know that."
He nodded, but only barely. Rissa reached up to touch his arm, but he moved away. "What are you getting at, Ingénue?"
She lowered her hand, unsure of how to break this to him. "Sin, I'm trusting you, possibly with my life, because I think you need to know this. The data? That encrypted, illegal data? There's only one possible correlation between the companies transporting it."
"The Legion," he breathed.
"The Praetor," she said. "It all ties back to him, consistently. It's covered pretty well, but I've had a week to think about this. TelGen was clean, but SiSec wasn't."
"Benedict wouldn't do this," he insisted. "Riss, he's a good man!"
"I believe you," she said. "And his question helps to prove it. A correlation is not a sign of guilt. It merely means I do not have enough data to make any extrapolations. There is a tie. It does not necessarily mean he is involved."
"So, it might not be him?" he asked just to clarify. "Could it be, say, the Censor?"
Her eyes went blank for a moment. "It could. My concern is that if it is not your Praetor – and all I've been able to find on the man makes me believe it's not – then he may be blamed for it regardless. In fact, the intention may be to blame him."
"Ok," Sin said, nodding to show he'd heard. "So, what is he getting blamed for, then? What kind of illegal data are we talking about? Do you have any idea?"
She bit her lip again, trying to summarize the massive amount of information she'd sifted through.
"SiSec makes medical adaptations, and the Chairman of the Board is one of the largest donors to the church.
ViriSys-Global designs patent applications.
The CEO's daughter is an Ordane with the Legion.
Charles Marbios is a renowned biochemist who was friends with the Praetor when they were children.
There's more, but those are the most notable examples. "
"I need to know what they're doing, Princess," Sin said. "Not the who, but the what."
She caught her breath. Her news hadn't shocked him at all! "How long have you known?" she asked.
"Seven months, give or take," he admitted, lifting the cigarette to his lips. "There's five of us who've been watching things change. Your risk for mine, right?"
Reaching up to his throat, Sin pulled out a long, delicate chain and let it fall against his chest. The metal was silver in color, but it looked more like stainless steel than actual silver.
Hanging from it was a chunky pendant made from the same metal.
In the center of that almost-shield shape was a stone that resembled an open eye.
It was the sort of yellow-brown color often called "gold. "
"The only people I trust wear one of these."
In the flickering subway light, Rissa touched the pendant. She timidly reached up and carefully caressed the small shape. "The eye is open. Does that mean something?" she asked.
"Does to me," he admitted. "Well, us."
"It is not the official symbol of your faith."
"No." He tilted his head to catch her eyes. "But it's the symbol that fits best with what we've been seeing."
She nodded, aware of his word choice. "You see what you should not, and likely fear the damage that may come from it. Sin, being right doesn't mean you're falling from grace."
His hand closed over hers, the pendant held inside. "Are you sure of that, Ingénue?"
She shook her head. "I am not God, and I don't know his will, but I also know the Praetor isn't God either. Nor is the Censor. They are merely men, and men can be corrupted. I'm afraid this is something I can't answer for you."
His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and he tilted his head down a bit more. "You kinda did, though. It's my turn to say thanks. So what is Joshua doing, and how do we stop it?"
"I need more information," she said. "I can make guesses, but they are just that. There would be no way to know if I was wrong."
"Ok, then guess. Give me a direction, at least?" he begged.
She'd thought about this a lot, wondering if he was involved.
Everything said no, and his words confirmed it, but words were often hollow lies.
What she said next might put her life in danger.
If Sinclair wasn't as honest and devout as he claimed, she was about to make herself the biggest threat to the Legion they had ever seen.
"He's planning to perform a miracle, either one big one or a lot of small ones, and use popular opinion to gain power.
Then he'll push your beliefs on as many as he can.
Ideally, this should create a positive feedback loop where he could only grow stronger—and wealthier.
That will lead to more power, and people do love power.
Both the ones who have it and the ones who follow those who do. "
"Fuck," Sin breathed, flicking away the burned-out butt of his smoke and reaching for another. "How?"
"City elections are in five months. I expect we'll see the first miracle in two to four weeks.
Due to the nature of the data being smuggled, that miracle will likely be tied to the enhanced—either helping or removing them to make more available jobs.
I'm not sure which, but it's clearly tied to Stabiltrol. "
"Ok. I need to tell the Fallen," he muttered to himself. "Why two weeks?"
Rissa laughed a bit. "Sin, that's when the notifications of intent to run for office become available."
"Office?"
She nodded. "The mayor is retiring."
"Shit," he snarled. "Shit, shit, shit. Ok.
So Joshua wants to take over the city government and legislate religion.
They tried that in a few countries back on Earth in the twentieth or twenty-first century, and it didn't work so well.
Why does he think he can do this? How does he think he can get this around Benedict?
" He sucked on his cigarette, his lips parting as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs, then he released it all in a strong breath.
"Us. Fuck. He's going to use the Legates. "
She watched the dismay flicker across his face as his mind worked. "If I'm right, he should increase the number of Legates soon."
Sin shook his head. "It's not that easy, Princess. He can't circumvent the initiation. We have to prove ourselves."
"Who decides if you pass?" she asked softly.
He grinned. "There's five of us who manage that, and Joshua no longer has a say."
But it felt like her blood froze in her veins. "Sin?" she gasped.
"What?"
"For Joshua to make this possible…" She paused to swallow, dreading her next words.
"He would have to remove the Praetor somehow.
That would take a scandal the likes of which we've never seen before.
" Then she reached up for his arm. "And using you would be the easiest option.
It would give him control of the Legate selection again.
More, if he claims your supposed actions as a sign of corruption. "
"Shit," he breathed. "And while I hate what you're saying, for the first time in my life, I wish I had your mind. It might be the only way to keep ahead of this." He sucked at his smoke one more time. "I can only pray that God will give me a little help on this one."
Rissa gently rubbed his arm. "You'll do fine. Sin, you're not a stupid man. Have a little faith in yourself as well as your God. And for anything you can't think of on your own, I will help."
He nodded, and his nicotine-scented hand moved to the side of her face, gently touching her through the cloth.
"Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.
" His thumb moved, brushing the line of her cheekbone beneath the silky fabric, and his face softened.
"Maybe God's already given me the help I need. "