Crump, crump, crump.
Shit.
I tried every route I could see and got the same result. Damn it, I was sure the defences were electrically powered. Now that I was this close, I could sense the gate wards on the data centre with my magesight, and they were far too weak to do any heavy lifting on their own. The place had to be running off mains. Why wasn’t cutting the power working?
Battery backups? If it was that, there might be some sort of delay before the cut-in that I could exploit. I tried searching for one . . . nope.
I checked the time. Fifteen minutes until Richard’s attack was due to start.
“We going or not?” Cinder said.
“Hold on,” I said. The problem was that I didn’t have any information to work with. Any attempt to get inside the building was setting off the bomb, and once it had gone off, the inside was too much of a wreck to learn anything more. If there was some future where the bomb didn’t go off, I could strengthen it with the fateweaver, but I wasn’t seeing one. I might be able to find one if I kept looking . . . but I had no idea how long that could take.
Time to go with plan B.
When Cinder had been telling me not to use mind-to-mind, he’d been referring to my dreamstone. It’s a shard of amethyst-coloured crystal that I picked up and bonded with years ago and which gives me the ability to step between our world and Elsewhere. Its core ability, though, was mental communication. It’s easiest with someone you know well, but with practice, you can do it with people you’ve never met.
Or with creatures that aren’t people.
I reached out through the dreamstone, probing delicately. Distance isn’t a barrier to the dreamstone’s mental link, not exactly, but it’s a lot easier for me to touch someone’s mind if I know where it is. Hello there, I said. Can you hear me?
A response shot back instantly, crisp and clear. Please specify the required data.
Oh good, I said. What’s your name?
There was a moment’s pause. That is not a valid request.
What, you like to shake hands first? I leant against the wall, folding my arms. Okay, how about you tell me how your day’s going?
That is not a valid request. Please supply a valid authorisation code.
I’d never tried linking to a synthetic intelligence before, and it was surprisingly easy. Trying to communicate with most humans this way is difficult: their thoughts are too messy. The synthetic mind’s thoughts were like smooth glass, precise and clear. Oh, I don’t have a code. I just wanted to chat.
I’m not a chatbot. Who are you?
My name’s Alex Verus. Yours?
Silence. I smiled slightly. Divination isn’t great for in-depth interactions—too many forks—but you can read off basic responses easily enough. I knew the machine intelligence recognised my name.
Why are you contacting me?
Well, I’ll get to that in a second. Sure you don’t want to tell me your name? Going to be a bit awkward just saying you all the time.
Another pause. My routing designation is November Epsilon underscore one one seven.
Great! November it is.
I must ask you to cease your communication. The synthetic intelligence’s thoughts were still clear, but noticeably disturbed. By contacting me in this manner you are placing us both at considerable risk. Should your actions be detected, you will be terminated and I will be subject to severe sanction.
Oh right, I said. I guess you only know the information that Levistus has access to, don’t you? There’s been a bit of a shift in the balance of power. Let’s just say that if Levistus could terminate me that easily, I wouldn’t be here.
Well, I wish I shared your confidence, November said frostily. I’m not in a position to be quite so cavalier about such matters.
Oh, come on, loosen up a bit. Tell you what, how about getting outside? Must get a bit boring being cooped up in that data centre all the time.
Yes, well, if only it were that simple.
I’m serious, I said. Think of it as a job offer. I mean, I’ve seen how Levistus treats his nonhuman staff, I can’t imagine that being his spy station is all that pleasant. Considered switching employers?
I don’t know whether you consider this to be a joke, or whether it’s some elaborate test of loyalty, but I am profoundly unimpressed in either case.
So that’s a no?
Do you need me to say it in another language? I can communicate in over two thousand of them if it would help deliver the message more clearly.
Well, so much for asking nicely. Okay, in that case I guess I DO have a data request. Please give me the access codes for the data centre on top of Heron Tower.
I have good reason to believe you are not authorised for that information.
What if I said please?
You are not authorised for that information.
What would I have to do to get authorised?
You are not authorised for that information.
Okay, let’s put this another way, I said. In about—I checked the time—eight minutes and forty-five seconds, I’m going to force my way into the data centre. Which is probably going to set off its self-destruct charges. You know, the ones you’re in the blast radius of right now.
What?
Still sure you don’t want to give me those codes?
You’re going to—what do you mean, force your way in?
Oh, cut the power, pick the locks, and if that doesn’t work, blow the door down. I’m hoping cutting the power will be enough to deactivate the alarms.
You’re hoping—? Of course it won’t be enough!
Well, you never know until you try.
Yes! You do know! You know right now, because I’m telling you!
There’s always the chance the hard drives might survive.
The demolition charges are SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED to destroy the hard drives, you idiot! Along with me!
In which case, I walk away, and Levistus loses his spy network. I’ll take it.
But . . . November trailed off.
You’ve been working as Levistus’s spy, I said, my thoughts flat and hard. Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences? That you were above it all?
I was never given a choice!
Well, you’re getting a choice now. In seven minutes, I’m kicking those doors down. What happens when I do is up to you.
This isn’t fair!
If you want to spend your last six minutes and forty-five seconds arguing about whether the world is fair, I’m not going to stop you, but I wouldn’t recommend it.