Shoella, were mostly a harmless-looking mix of men and women, only one over sixty—the Pigeon Lady. A bland appearance was camouflage, but not everyone bothered: young, pale Glory was dramatically Goth in her style, while Giant, a Hispanic near-dwarf, went out of his way to bristle with piercings, and studs in black leather. To Bleak he looked like an anthropomorphic hedgehog. He'd annoyed Giant, once, by calling him Sonic. But Giant's conspicuousness could end in the blink of an eye—he had the gift of calling up camouflage sprites and could vanish against the background if he chose.
“Maybe,” Bleak said, “this wasn't such a good idea. But the idea was to warn you—tell you about the detector, and maybe work together, figure some way to fly under this new radar of theirs...” He broke off, glanced at the sky, became aware that someone was looking at him from behind—from some distance away, up high. Pigeon Lady waddled up, grinning at him toothlessly, and he nodded to her, smiled, acknowledging the help she'd given him on the street. One of her pigeons fluttered from her shoulders, and in its wing wind he heard, “That's okay, I gots to help if I can. “
How did she get over here to Jersey, he wondered, with all those pigeons? They wouldn't let her on a subway with those things. Did they hide in her clothing?
“Shoella,” Bleak went on, talking to the group, “wanted you to hear it from me.” He turned and saw a light approaching in the air, still a ways off, over the river. It was almost lost in the lights of the Manhattan skyline—as if one of those lights had detached from its skyscraper and come hunting.
Giant stepped forward. “You could be working with the feds.” A piping voice.
“You know that's bullshit, Giant. We don't have time for a mind probe. You see that light coming over the river?” Bleak pointed.
They all turned to look. A spotlight beam was probing down from the oncoming light; you could just make out the outline of a helicopter. Coming right at them, about two hundred yards away, sixty above.
“It's them and...they have a detector,” Glory said. The tense little woman, her head draped in black silk, trembling as she closed her kohled eyes—peering with her mind. “I can see it. I see the device in someone's hand! A little arrow!”
“There's something we can do,” Shoella said, looking coldly at Bleak. “If Gabriel really didn't bring them here on purpose...he'll help us deal with them.”
“Let's do it,” Bleak said, nodding.
“Everyone!” Shoella called, gesturing. They crowded around him—put Bleak right at the center. Shoella murmured to Yorena, who pulsed the plan to their minds.
Bleak felt the someone in the chopper looking right at him. Some familiarity around the edges: it might be Drake Zweig.
“They're CCA,” Glory muttered. “I've got that much.”
So the feds had found him already, Bleak realized, shaking his head. That agent Sarikosca, maybe. Zweig. Coming after him again...and they'd be calling in backup. Which meant the others, La'hood, could go down too. They might all get swept up, trucked away to some nameless detention center for their kind.
“So they did follow you here,” Oliver said disgustedly. “They're after you—and they'll get all of us!”
“I don't think they followed him,” Shoella put in. “They're just flying around the area using their little detector—and picked us up.”
“Let me shoot them down, Sho',” Giant said. “I've got a clear shot—they're almost in range.” He raised his arms, to call the lightning down.
“No,” said Bleak, shoving Giant's hands down. “The peeps in that chopper have been briefed all wrong about us. They're not to blame.”
“Don't fucking touch me, Bleak.”
“Focus, dammit! If Glory can make an illusion...”
“I can try,” she said, gazing raptly at the CCA chopper, beginning to murmur to the Hidden. “But it won't hold for long.”
The chopper neared; the crowd of
“Maybe,” Bleak said, “this wasn't such a good idea. But the idea was to warn you—tell you about the detector, and maybe work together, figure some way to fly under this new radar of theirs...” He broke off, glanced at the sky, became aware that someone was looking at him from behind—from some distance away, up high. Pigeon Lady waddled up, grinning at him toothlessly, and he nodded to her, smiled, acknowledging the help she'd given him on the street. One of her pigeons fluttered from her shoulders, and in its wing wind he heard, “That's okay, I gots to help if I can. “
How did she get over here to Jersey, he wondered, with all those pigeons? They wouldn't let her on a subway with those things. Did they hide in her clothing?
“Shoella,” Bleak went on, talking to the group, “wanted you to hear it from me.” He turned and saw a light approaching in the air, still a ways off, over the river. It was almost lost in the lights of the Manhattan skyline—as if one of those lights had detached from its skyscraper and come hunting.
Giant stepped forward. “You could be working with the feds.” A piping voice.
“You know that's bullshit, Giant. We don't have time for a mind probe. You see that light coming over the river?” Bleak pointed.
They all turned to look. A spotlight beam was probing down from the oncoming light; you could just make out the outline of a helicopter. Coming right at them, about two hundred yards away, sixty above.
“It's them and...they have a detector,” Glory said. The tense little woman, her head draped in black silk, trembling as she closed her kohled eyes—peering with her mind. “I can see it. I see the device in someone's hand! A little arrow!”
“There's something we can do,” Shoella said, looking coldly at Bleak. “If Gabriel really didn't bring them here on purpose...he'll help us deal with them.”
“Let's do it,” Bleak said, nodding.
“Everyone!” Shoella called, gesturing. They crowded around him—put Bleak right at the center. Shoella murmured to Yorena, who pulsed the plan to their minds.
Bleak felt the someone in the chopper looking right at him. Some familiarity around the edges: it might be Drake Zweig.
“They're CCA,” Glory muttered. “I've got that much.”
So the feds had found him already, Bleak realized, shaking his head. That agent Sarikosca, maybe. Zweig. Coming after him again...and they'd be calling in backup. Which meant the others, La'hood, could go down too. They might all get swept up, trucked away to some nameless detention center for their kind.
“So they did follow you here,” Oliver said disgustedly. “They're after you—and they'll get all of us!”
“I don't think they followed him,” Shoella put in. “They're just flying around the area using their little detector—and picked us up.”
“Let me shoot them down, Sho',” Giant said. “I've got a clear shot—they're almost in range.” He raised his arms, to call the lightning down.
“No,” said Bleak, shoving Giant's hands down. “The peeps in that chopper have been briefed all wrong about us. They're not to blame.”
“Don't fucking touch me, Bleak.”
“Focus, dammit! If Glory can make an illusion...”
“I can try,” she said, gazing raptly at the CCA chopper, beginning to murmur to the Hidden. “But it won't hold for long.”
The chopper neared; the crowd of
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