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I said.
Fortunately, Tobias had kept track of where he was. He easily led the
way back to a level three stories down from where we'd been.
This level was different than any we'd seen thus far. It seemed to be an
industrial district. The separation from the floor above was several
hundred feet. The predominating colors were gray and brown. And the
factories, if that's what they were, looked as drab and windowless and
shabby as any factories on Earth.
Here, as we flew above them, we met a new variation on the Iskoort.
These had longer, stronger arms, more massive shoulders, and their eyes
were hooded with thick, retractable lids.
There were very few out and about. Those I saw, though, seemed
boisterously happy and oblivious to the grimness around them. But their
whining diaphragms were so loud that a small group of them whining
together could make you long for earplugs.
We circled around a few times, looking for
Howlers. But they were not in sight. We landed. I demorphed and went
inside.
I thought I was past the emotion. I thought I was over that feeling of
hollowness I'd felt, imagining them all gone. But then there they were.
Rachel scowling. Marco looking down at the floor, withdrawn. Ax off by
himself, still no doubt blaming himself. Erek with his hologram turned
off, an unemotional android face.
And Cassie.
Ax cried, the first to see me.
Cassie was on her feet and running toward me, and I was running to her,
and I wasn't past any emotion, I was exploding with emotion.
Cassie jumped into my arms and I wrapped her up tight and before I knew
it I was kissing her on her lips and she was kissing me back.
"It's about time," Rachel grumbled.
At least Cassie and I provided Marco with material. It took him
precisely three seconds after I parted from Cassie, embarrassed and amazed.
He held out his arms to me and said, "What, no kiss for me?"
I would not have believed I could feel like a dork in the middle of all
the other feelings I was dealing with, and in the middle of an abject
disaster of a battle, but I guess embarrassment and awkwardness are
always with us.
"No?" Marco said, looking puzzled. "I guess I'll have to turn to
Rachel." He went for her, arms out, lips puckered.
"Gee, Marco, what do you think the odds are
I'll kiss you? Slim, none, or I'll-break-both-your-arms?"
I looked around at our latest home. It was a large open space, maybe
three stories high, about the size of a basketball court. Crammed into
that gloomy cube were an amazing array of machines. Some like giant
jackhammers, some like steel octopi, others weirdly like merry-go-rounds
with elaborate, sharp-edged tools instead of brightly colored horses.
Nothing was working. There was dust everywhere.
"Abandoned factory?" I asked Guide.
the Superstition and Magic Guild certifies that the place is free of the
spirits of fictional characters.>
I sighed. I hesitated. I shot a look at Marco.
"Oh, you'll want to hear this," he said.
"What are the spirits of fictional characters?"
Guide whined in what I took to be a humorous way.
believe that fictional characters are at least partly real and thus have
spirits who wander the city, infesting buildings and engaging in various
destructive behaviors.>
"Fictional characters," I said. "Okay."
control this problem.
But the Worker Guild cannot agree on a fair price, so . . .>
"Makes perfect sense," I said.
"In a loony bin," Rachel said.
We all fell silent for a while. The rush of being reunited was wearing
off. We were remembering reality.
"Swell," Marco muttered. "Make it seven to two and I'd still bet on them."
There was muttered agreement.
"I have a new morph," I said.
Tobias asked.
"Yeah. On the way ... on the way down, I acquired the Howler. It's not
enough, but it may give us an edge. If we have an overall plan."
"Do you have a plan?" Erek asked.
I considered. Did I? I had bits and pieces. Guesses. Speculation.
Intuitions.
I shrugged. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Marco grinned. "Kiss him again, Cassie. It seems to help."
They all waited expectantly. I bowed my head and tried to bring together
all that I had learned about the Howlers. I felt like I had a bunch of
jigsaw pieces and no picture to work from.
"Okay, jump in if you have anything to add. I could be totally wrong.
One: The Howlers must have some kind of collective memory. The
memories
Erek absorbed were of events going back thousands of years and
covering dozens of invasions. No biological creature lives that long.
And we know the Howlers are biological because I acquired one. So
somehow, the Howlers are designed to share a single memory. What these
seven Howlers ... six ... learn here will be conveyed to all the rest of
the species. That way all battle experience is available to all warriors."
Rachel nodded. "No wonder they never lose."
"Yeah, but that brings up something else. See, no one wins all the time.
Not for thousands of years. It's not possible. Muhammad AN lost. Michael
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