2.16.1

Respective Guardian

Dubious after their talk with the timorous Karsten, Astrid and Anders resolved themselves to brief the Guardians themselves.

Astrid suggested, once they exited the Keeper’s office, that it would be the Guardians that held Mercedes together. Not Karsten.

They located Eames, and his fellows, deep in the Sanctuary. Where the Guardian organized an assembly of Static adults and their Channeler wards in a large, wide cavern carved within the bedrock.

Only two lanterns dotted the length the longest wall. As, at its end, one of the grand windows to blue sea filtered translucent light. Dim, but cool and soothing. In the glow, pillows, blankets, and food crates sat pushed aside. The room looked prepared for a long holding. Or lockdown.

Or rather, Astrid suspected, with the Guardians’ small numbers, they planned to shepherd their Channelers together, under constant watch in the deepest reaches and safe behind an easily guarded bottleneck.

Some Statics, instructors, and support staff, judging by their uniforms, stood separate from the Guardians. They spoke with the young ones in coaxing, gentle tones. Yet another led pre-teens in a meditation all too familiar for Astrid.

“You are light. This is all temporary.”

The oldest Channelers spaced themselves evenly, marked by the glow of their pendants. Astrid could feel the subtle pull they drew from the room, to help abate the wanton anxiety that still hung in the air.

She and her fellow senior students tried something similar when London’s presence disturbed Endra. Though, that experience paled in the comparison to the trauma endured here.

No more than a dozen Channeler children remained interred, excluding a handful of teenagers. But the Statics outnumbered even them.

“The instructors fared better here,” Anders commented while they surveyed the small crowd.

Eames drew himself from a conversation with a white-geared woman. His companion nodded and left the room to carry out whatever business he assigned.

“The instructors shut themselves in with the infants, in the nursery. Most of them.” Eames spoke to the soldiers that gathered at his side. Outside the chaos of an invasion, his voice came a deep, but clear tone. As heavy as his dark brows. “For all the good it did. It seems the infants weren’t the ones most vulnerable.”

“What’s the next step for you?” Anders pried.

Astrid found herself continuously distracted by the pull of Channelers in all directions. The most in one room she’d felt since her emancipation.

Part of her soul hungered to join in the meditations. To feel the security and tranquility that once accompanied her when she spoke the words.

But stronger than the desire, came the wisdom that it would never feel like it did before. She’d changed. Seen, and done, things that could never be undone. No repetition of affirmations could cleanse her of that now.

Eames scowled. “We count our dead, and our living. And we establish protocol for assaults like this one. We won’t be caught unprepared again. That is… if you intend to chase our people yourself? We have no hope of recovering them on our own. That’s not what we’re trained for. But they must be protected. From others as well as themselves.”

Astrid measured a shift in Anders when the officer reviewed those in the cavern.

“Your numbers have suffered. But perhaps you would feel better if you sent someone with us? A Guardian?”

Astrid didn’t hide the dart of her eyes to her commander.

“I would,” Eames submitted. “But we’re as used to these halls as the Channelers themselves. Some have lived here for decades.”

“What about you?” Astrid interrupted. Both men turned to her brazen suggestion. “Would you instead trust someone else organize those left behind, and come yourself?”

Eames appraised her. Skepticism passed over his features. Then pensive apprehension. Eventually, he nodded. “Yes. Though, I need time to arrange it. I cannot leave until those here have established a response plan and a protocol for moving forward.”

“I understand,” Anders told him. “I hope you’ll make sure before we leave that Karsten reaches out to Raphael. There’s more to be done, and you need more people here.”

“We’ll have to discuss it. Since Victoria…” the man’s eyes sharpened in remembrance. “The woman who led us did not survive the assault. Our leadership system has been left with a lot of gaps.”

“Take the night,” Anders proffered. “Come meet my captain in the morning before you decide. But tomorrow, we must leave. The enemy will try this again.”

“You hunt them?

“We do,” Anders told him. “If you join us, you will, too.”

~~~

“Why involve a Guardian? Why now?” Astrid muttered to her officer when they finally left the premises for the Aldebaran. The ship sat, parked nearby for their return.

Instead of relief, she felt the weight of consequence for what happened to Dell. And an ever-growing headache she pointedly ignored.

“After seeing what happened here, it’s no less their fight than yours,” Anders informed her. “Besides, we might need him. The Channelers, when we find them, are going to be scared. They don’t know us, or the Service. But they know a Guardian when they see one.

“You tell me,” he pitched back. “Why did you want it to be him?”

“I know the decision to bring in a Guardian is not mine to make. But I wanted to at least have influence in who, if I could.” The Channeler acted on impulse, but not without feeling. And she realized the reason almost immediately. “Eames asked about the ones we didn’t save. If we’d get them back. The Keeper didn’t.”

Anders sighed while they walked. “Yeah… I noticed that, too.”

“He’s going to be useless, isn’t he?” Astrid mumbled in disappointment. She never would have thought so little of a Keeper before. But then, she didn’t know better. Or how good she’d had it with Alethea.

“Not everyone is built for crisis response….” Anders agreed with a dismal shake of his head. “It’s why we can spare the night, to make sure the Sanctuary stabilizes. Just in case. We’ll need that list anyway.”

To their left, the sea breathed cool air into their hair. Waves lapped at the stone-set coast.

“You did well, though. That can’t have been easy.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“The S.O. got away with far less than they intended. We messed up their plans. And it's not hard to see how far you've come in your training.”

“I hurt Dell.” Astrid made herself say it out loud. “I watched a Channeler die to one of those energy arms. I saw teenagers, children themselves, give themselves up to protect the young ones. I saw…”

Astrid’s eyes fixated on the shape of the Aldebaran. A symbol that promised her she could make a difference. And yet it didn’t feel enough, yet.

“We have one of the Opposition now,” Anders reminded her. “We’ll get some answers, Romo will make sure of it.”

~~~

Anders and Astrid helped one another with the latches of their gear, in silence. Then they set their weapons on the gunnery chief’s bench for service. Redressed in fatigues, and weary, they made their way to the War Room and to find Captain London.

Tenya seemed to have delivered the shorthand before their arrival, but still, Anders ran a quick overview.

“It’s just as they said at Endra, Captain,” he reported. “The S.O. dropped in from a ship in pods, infiltrated the structure, and sought their targets. They isolated the kids and the instructors they could find, then demanded the children to be handed over. Only when people resisted did it get bloody.

“Where Mercedes prevailed is that their vault door stalled them in the hours we needed. And its subterranean structure was complicated. They couldn’t locate and round up everybody. Tenya and I arrived, with Eames, just as the S.O. resorted to violence. We won’t get that close again.”

“I agree,” London conceded. “But I still don't understand how that brought you to this new addition you’ve suggested.

“Seats at this table are limited. You didn’t think to clear it with me?” London asked of Anders. Though he didn’t seem angry, the young officer still readjusted his stance under the scrutiny.

“It’s not for the Ground Team, and he doesn’t need clearance, or a spot in the War Room,” the lieutenant commander contended. “It’s purely about keeping the lines of communication open. We need the Guardians on our side as much as the Channelers. If anything, he’s an ambassador.”

“And you, Hale?” The captain then rounded on his specialist. Astrid looked between them, briefly stunned to be included. “Do you agree this Guardian to be an asset to our mission?”

But she straightened her posture and answered.

“I support the lieutenant-commander’s decision, sir. The man selected helped us the most in the Sanctuary’s defense. And when we find those children, they’re going to need a Guardian.

“There’s close to fifty missing, now, sir,” she continued. “Not having a Guardian on staff would seem an oversight.”

London “hmmed” and passed another look between the soldiers. She braced herself for reprimand, but instead, the captain folded his arms. With one hand, London braced his opposite elbow. The other, he drew to his jaw in thought.

“I suppose there’s little concern of allegiance. And I suspect the Guardians are already well-vetted. Very well, but I’ll want a dossier on this person, nonetheless. I can’t have a complete unknown aboard.”

“Like I was?” Astrid boldly rebutted.

“I knew enough.”

He dismissed her assessment and quickly turned his attention to other matters.

“We have to hope Romo draws something from the operative we captured. We cannot keep chasing these attacks. I doubt we’ll get another chance like we did today.

“Anderson. Get me your report, then submit your formal proposal to have this ‘Guardian’ added to the crew under dignitary status. As for Hale, I want you to file a report as well. As a formality.”

“Sir?”

Other than her reports to the warrant officer, she didn’t typically rank high enough to file paperwork with command. Not aboard the Aldebaran, anyway. A mundane task, but one usually reserved for officers and their seconds.

“You need to get in the habit before it becomes mandatory.”

“I… yes, sir.”