Moments later the gates rang with the impact, and people scattered. North dashed up the stairs to the top of the wall, and the guards at the top fired wildly down into the throngs below.
Wren caught Cass’s hand. “Mama, I’ve got to get to the machine!”
It was hard to process with everything happening around her, but she nodded and called for Gamble.
“We’ve got to get to the compound!” she said. “We’ve got to get Wren inside!”
Gamble nodded and called to her team. Cass picked Wren up, and together they all raced to the governor’s compound. People in the streets were panicking, even those who hadn’t been in any danger of relocation. The sounds of the battle spilled over the walls and carried through the streets, and the echoing cry of the Weir drove people to madness.
But Gamble’s team spread out in a protective ring around Cass and Wren, and cleared a way through. When they reached the compound, Cass was aghast. Not surprised, but aghast. The gates were sealed, and the number of guards tripled. All of them were needed on the wall, and yet here they remained, guarding the compound against nothing.
“You’ve got to let us in,” Cass called as they approached. “We’ve got to get inside!”
The captain at the gate waved her off. “Gate’s sealed by the Council’s orders,” he said. “No one’s getting in or out tonight.”
“The city’s under attack!” Gamble yelled. “Your men should be on the wall!”
“We have our orders, ma’am.”
Gamble actually reached through the bars and caught the man’s uniform. She jerked him forward and smashed his face against the bars.
“Open this gate, or we’ll blow it open.”
Powerful floodlights switched on and bore down upon Cass and her crew. No one could see beyond them, but the sound of coilguns and other weapons spinning up was unmistakable.
Gamble released the captain.
“I recommend you folks move off,” the captain said. “If I see you approach the compound again, I’ll have no choice but to open fire.”
“The whole city’s in trouble,” Cass said. “There’s a very real chance we’re going to lose the gate. Let the people come here.”
“I’ll give you ten seconds.”
“Please,” Wren said. But the captain wouldn’t be moved.
“Seven.”
Gamble seemed like she was considering taking the shot anyway, but Cass called her off, and they all withdrew across the street.
“So, what’s with the machine?” Gamble asked.
“Wren thinks he might be able to stop Asher through it,” Cass said.
“But you have to be near it, or what?”
Wren nodded. “I’ve tried to connect to it, but I just can’t. It’s too… slippery. I can’t keep it.”
“But you can connect?” Finn asked.
“Yeah, kind of.”
Finn waved him over. “Can you help me find it?”
“I think so.”
“If you can help me find the connection, I’ll feed you the signal,” Finn said. “I don’t know what you’ll be able to do with it, but I’ll keep the connection stable, if that helps.”
Wren nodded. “We can try.”
Wren did something internal, found the connection, shared it with Finn just before he lost it. It took a few attempts, but after a couple of minutes, Finn seemed to understand what they were looking for.
“OK, got it,” he said. “I’m going to try and boost it. You just ride along, do what you have to.”
Wren nodded and sat down on the ground, next to the wall of a building. Finn knelt next to him, and together they went into a realm none of the others could see.
The first thing Wren noticed was how dense it all was. Like a mass of wires crushed together. Connections to connections to connections, and none with any meaning to him. Processes flashed like lightning, gone in a blink, with only an after-image remaining. It wasn’t long before Wren was completely overwhelmed.
But as hopeless as it felt, at least he knew the machine’s purpose. And he knew Asher was in it. And he knew Asher. So that was where he started, looking for the things that reminded him of his brother.
Wren realized he didn’t even have words for what he was doing. He couldn’t reduce the thoughts or the impressions to anything he could describe. But it was something like how a scent could trigger a vivid memory, or a particular color could summon a flavor on the tongue. A fleeting impression was enough to trigger a stream of interactions, and Wren found himself falling deeper into the void of the machine.
He floated, lost for a time, flailing, grasping. And then Wren realized how hard he was searching, and he took a breath, and he stopped trying. Moments later, or maybe minutes, it was impossible to tell, as he let his mind rove where it would, something caught his attention. Something that seemed out of place. And he stretched out and touched it through the ether.