It had been difficult to acquire that technology without tipping their hand-the SnowDancer wolves were very proprietary of their tech, usually installed it themselves. However, despite the subterranean nature of the squad’s base of operations, on the other side of the glass lay a sprawling green space full of trees, ferns, even a natural-seeming pool, the area bathed in simulated sunlight that would change to moonlight as the day turned. Which made it all the more notable that Kaleb Krychek had demonstrated the ability to ’port into the HQ when the squad first contacted him. It wasn’t of the outside world-the Arrows were creatures of shadow, and so they lived in the shadows, their headquarters buried deep underground in a location inaccessible to anyone who didn’t know the correct routes and codes.Įven a teleporter needed a visual lock, and there were no images of Arrow Central Command anywhere in the world, not in any database, not on the PsyNet, nowhere. “Krychek has a theory.” Aden came to stand beside Vasic, his dark eyes on the vista beyond the glass. Today the room was empty except for the two of them. None of them were sociable, yet they maintained this space, having learned through bitter experience that even an Arrow couldn’t always walk alone. “What is it?” he said to the man clad in a black combat uniform who’d just entered the common area of Arrow Central Command. It was far too late for him, his hands permanently stained with blood from the countless lives he’d taken in pursuit of a mandate that had proven false in a very ugly way. The only reason he kept waking up in the morning was for the others, the ones in the squad who still had some hope of a normal life. Now, as the world navigated the first days of a new year, he was beyond Silence and into a numbness so vast, it was an endless grayness. At first it had been his conditioning under Silence that kept him cold, his emotions on ice. He hadn’t been concerned about anything for a long time. Sleek black, the new invention remained relatively unstable, despite the constant and ongoing refinement by the medics and techs, but Vasic wasn’t concerned about his life. Vasic stared through the glass wall in front of him as the computronic gauntlet biologically fused to his left forearm hummed near silently in the diagnostic mode he’d initiated. There was nothing left of the man he’d been. ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof***
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