Inside were millions of memories and thoughts. Henry headed for his family's section of the vault. Temptation beckoned. Sascha knew it was a risk but this was a chance she couldn't miss - she'd always been told that her family's history had been corrupted by a rogue energy surge.
What if that, too, had been a lie?
Thankful that Henry had allowed his consciousness to spread in the vault, she drifted along the waves of his mind, riding swells until she reached the part that screamed with the Psy signature of her family.
Since she didn't know how long she'd be in here, she simply streamed through, siphoning data into her shadow-mind. She'd release and examine it once she was back behind the privacy of her own firewalls.
Unexpected movement.
Henry was leaving. She'd taken advantage of his absorption in his task to venture to the furthest edge of his consciousness. Now it was snapping back into a tight coil and if she didn't keep up, she'd be trapped here. Cut off from her mind for too long, her body would go into a coma from which she'd never recover.
Fear gnawed at the stomach of the woman on the bed but in the PsyNet, there was only a mind as calm as a pond. She barely managed to make it back before Henry went through the doors. After exiting, he charted a clear path to the darkest section of the Net, access to which was highly restricted. What she'd never expected as they cleared that section was the even darker core that lay within.
The Council chambers.
This was where it got tricky. If the other members were there, they might pick up what Henry hadn't. Nikita was the most dangerous. In the same manner that Sascha had recognized her family's signature in the vault, her mother would recognize hers if even the faintest hint of her mind emerged from the shadow of Henry's psyche.
However, Nikita had mentioned nothing about a meeting when they'd spoken. Sascha would've never instigated a ghosting otherwise. She told herself not to panic. Then they were through the final checkpoint and in the innermost core. Six other minds flared bright around them.
The Council was in session.
Taking desperate measures, Sascha forced herself to go under further than she'd ever before done, merging her consciousness with the outer layer of Henry's on a molecular level. Prolonging such a merge could mean the destruction of her psyche but there was no other option.
"Why are we here?" Crisp and young, the voice had to belong to Tatiana.
Though she was outside Henry's firewall and couldn't hear what he was thinking, she could hear what he heard - the others' thoughts all had to pass through his firewall and, by extension, through her, to reach his mind. That was the genius of ghosting.
"Yes," Nikita said, "I had to pull out of something extremely important without notice."
"He's taken another changeling girl." Marshall 's razor blade of a mind.
Buried so deep that she was no longer a person, Sascha recorded the conversation without processing it. Reaction was her enemy here.
"When?" Tatiana.
"Two and a half days ago. We did too good a job of telling our subordinates to bury any further cases - they didn't think we'd be interested in keeping up to date." Marshall 's tone didn't change. "I stumbled onto the information during a conversation with one of my guards."
"This can't be allowed to continue." Nikita. "In spite of what some of you insist on thinking, the changelings aren't without power. DarkRiver hasn't forgotten their lost female - I wouldn't be surprised if they're already hunting. We'd better hope they don't grow impatient and decide one of us will do in lieu."
If Sascha had allowed herself to think, she might've been startled, having been unaware that Nikita had such a clear grasp of a truth most Psy ignored.
"What pack was it this time?" Enrique.
"The SnowDancers." Marshall.
"It's a wonder hundreds of us aren't already dead." Nikita. "Those wolves are vicious."
"They're only changelings." Ming's cool menace. "What can they do?"
"Don't be stupid." Nikita. "They know we have to get close to influence them - close enough to be vulnerable to their weaponry. The SnowDancers took out five Psy last year. The Net was never alerted that they were in any danger. They simply winked out of existence one after the other. Their bodies have never been found."
"Why didn't we make an example of them?" Henry.
"The Psy who got taken out were acting foolishly. They went alone into restricted territory open only to the wolves." Marshall 's cold darkness. "We don't support fools."
"There's no mistake this killer is Psy?" Nikita.
"The NetMind has picked up traces of certain pathological traits within the patterns of a Psy mind. The traits peak during the week that he holds the women." Marshall. "There's been no success in tracking him."
"Only a very powerful psychic could hide himself so well." Nikita. "It has to be a cardinal or someone close to cardinal level, someone who has access to the highest levels of the PsyNet and can nudge the NetMind into looking the other way occasionally. Otherwise it would've picked up more than traces."
"We can't risk exposure." Tatiana. "He must be contained before he gives himself away."
"I agree. It's the only way to uphold the integrity of the PsyNet." Shoshanna. "What if he's a high-level Psy who's necessary to the functioning of the Net? We need to maintain the ratio of cardinal anchors. Too many of them have proven vulnerable to this particular side effect."
"If required, we leash him and keep him satisfied. We bring him the women he needs, women who won't be missed, women not from aggressive packs like DarkRiver or SnowDancer. And we ensure he's never discovered." Marshall. "As of now, we all devote a quarter of our minds to monitoring the NetMind - the second it picks up any hint of the applicable pathology, we track it back to him."
Applicable pathology? Something, which had once had a separate consciousness as a cardinal named Sascha, worried over the strange word choice.
"How do you know he won't choose to go underground until we give up?" Nikita. "If he's that good at hiding his tracks, he's going to be aware we're keeping watch."
"He hasn't killed the newest girl yet. I don't think he'll be able to stop himself from doing so." Marshall. "All our research on serial killing in the Psy populace supports the compulsion theory."
"How many others are operating at present?" Nikita. "The last data I received said fifty."
"Those are all the ones we're aware of. None are as much of a concern as our unknown - they aren't preying on high-visibility victims. Most are targeting other Psy, which makes our job considerably easier."
"What's being done about them?" Henry.
"They're being set up to be sentenced to rehabilitation for unrelated reasons. The ones we can't afford to lose are being provided for. Every one of them will be taken care of without alerting the PsyNet."
"But there will always be more."
"That is the nature of the Psy."
The meeting concluded without further discussion. Henry made his way back through the door and the outer core, Shoshanna by his side. They didn't speak until they were inside the walled rooms of their private vault.
"What do you think?" Henry asked.
"It's a reasonable outcome. We can take care of this matter without anyone knowing."
"The changelings are suspicious."
"Suspicion is worthless without proof. Nobody has uncovered even a single Psy serial killer since the first generation of Silence. We know how to keep our secrets." Shoshanna's energy flared. "Where were you?"
"In the history archives."
"Tagging?"
"Yes. You were right again - the indicators are present in several members of the extended family, but it's the youngest boy who might become a cause for concern."
"Let's discuss it tonight." She left without a backward look.
Henry checked his calendar and began the return journey to the archives.
The part of him that was Sascha rose sluggishly to the surface, prodded awake by the recall of her earlier near-trapping in the vault. It took her precious seconds to realize her own consciousness. She'd come perilously close to losing herself in Henry. Detaching from him before he reached the vault was imperative but she had to separate as softly as she'd merged.
So she waited. They were almost to the vault when they passed a guard with a sloppy alarm system. She flowed from Henry to the guard's shadow. When the man completed his circular route and reached the outer level of the restricted zone, she flowed onto another guard. Step-shadowing her way back to her own mind took over three hours in real time because she was tired, exhausted by the extended immersion in another's consciousness.
At long last, she slipped back around her firewall and released the gathered information into her mind. It was like letting go of a data bomb loaded with shrapnel. Her eyes opened with a snap and she collapsed backward on the bed, her heart racing at a thousand beats per second. There was too much new information in her mind. She let it process while she lay there staring at the ceiling and thinking she was starving.
A look at her watch confirmed it was well past dinnertime. Groaning, she went to the console and checked for messages. There was one from Lucas. He looked very much like the predator he was, the lines on his face vivid against the golden heat of his skin. "Ms. Duncan. If you could spare some time this evening I'd like to discuss a matter to do with the design change. I'll be at our earlier meeting place." The message ended.
No one eavesdropping would've given it a second thought. Businesspeople left vague messages like that all the time. Only she saw the worry in those cat-green eyes, only she knew he'd called after she hadn't gotten back in touch within a reasonable amount of time, only she ached to go to him.