The Green And The Gray

18

Something hard and cold settled into the pit of Caroline's stomach. That couldn't be right. Not the fragile young girl with bruises on her throat whom she'd helped carry to their apartment. Not the girl she'd played cards with, and fed eggs and cheese to, and dressed in her own clothes. Not the girl who'd sobbed on her shoulder in misery and grief and loneliness.

But even as the reflexive denial rose in her throat, another, darker image flashed through her mind.

Melantha, no longer young or fragile, standing tall and strong in the courtyard last night, unflinching as the old woman's scream washed over her and sending back a terrible, defiant scream of her own.

A scream that had sent the ground heaving beneath Caroline like a stung horse.

"That's crazy," Roger insisted. "Melantha?"

"Believe it," Nikolos said darkly. "The test was run by the Farseers and confirmed by the Manipulators. It is accurate."

"It is, Roger," Caroline told him. "She did it last night, before you got there. She shook the whole courtyard."

"And that was only a fraction of the power she'll have when she reaches adulthood." Nikolos turned to look out the window. "The skyscrapers of New York are earthquake-proof, or so their designers claim," he said quietly. "But they have no idea how much focused power a Groundshaker can unleash. She will literally be able to bring down any building she chooses."

"Like 9/11," Caroline murmured. "Only a hundred times worse."

"Exactly," Nikolos said, nodding. "You see now why it's vital that we get her back."

"I'm sorry, but I still don't understand," Roger said. "I can see why the Grays would want to get rid of her. But she told Caroline everyone wanted her dead. Grays and Greens."

"Well, I don't want her dead," Nikolos said. "Neither do Aleksander and his supporters. But Cyril's managed to persuade more of us that her sacrifice would be in our best long-term interests. Now that the decision's been made, there's nothing the rest of us can do about it."

Caroline frowned. But if that was the case, why had Sylvia tried so hard to get Roger to bring Melantha to her and Aleksander? "So it's like a democracy?" she asked. "You vote on what to do, then assume everyone will fall into line behind the decision?"

"It's not quite that chaotic," Nikolos said hesitantly. "It's difficult to explain to people who don't share our ability for mind-to-mind contact. Basically, Cyril and Aleksander used their persuasion Gifts to state their positions to the other Greens."

"In the strongest terms possible, I suppose," Caroline murmured.

"Why do you say that?" Nikolos asked.

"You do call them Persuaders," Caroline reminded him. "I presume their particular Gift is to make people do what they want, like Cyril tried to do to Melantha and me."

"You make it sound more manipulative than it really is," Nikolos said. "As I said, it's hard to explain to Humans."

"Velovsky seemed to understand," Caroline said.

"Velovsky's a special case," Nikolos said, a little tartly.

"Okay, so they try to persuade the others," Roger cut in. "What happens then? You vote?"

"Not in so many words," Nikolos said. "Those who agreed with Cyril added their mental strength in his support, as did those who agreed with Aleksander. When the two Persuaders then faced off against each other, the one with the stronger position was empowered to make the decision. In this case, that was Cyril."

Roger snorted gently. "Town meeting meets prize fight."

Caroline fought back a grimace. To her, it sounded more like the worst of Madison Avenue meeting the worst of manipulative pressure politics. "But how could he possibly persuade them to kill Melantha?" she asked. "Isn't she your best weapon?"

"Not yet she isn't," Nikolos said. "All she has is potential; and that's the point, really. At the moment, we and the Grays are fairly evenly matched, with neither side holding enough advantage to feel confident in launching an attack. But by the time Melantha reaches fifteen, that will change."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Which means that, from the Gray point of view, if they intend to try to destroy us, they need to move now."

"Only they can't, because you're at parity," Roger said, his voice carrying sudden understanding. "So you made a deal with them?"

"It's called a truce," Nikolos said stiffly. "Is that so hard to understand?"

"But they attacked you," Roger objected. "They burned your forest."

"And I personally will never forget that," Nikolos said quietly, and Caroline shivered at the edge in his voice. "Neither will any of my generation, most of whom would gladly risk everything by throwing my sixty Warriors into a final battle against our enemies."

"And where do you stand?" Caroline asked.

Nikolos took a deep breath. "I'm a Command-Tactician," he said. "I lead Warriors, not the Greens as a whole. Whatever our leaders decide, I have no choice but to support that decision."

"So in exchange for peace," Caroline said darkly, "Cyril agreed to murder a twelve-year-old girl."

"Easy, hon," Roger said. But his voice sounded strained, too. "It's the kind of decision nations have to make all the time."

"And it certainly wasn't made as casually as you imply," Nikolos insisted. "We explored every other possibility first, from sending Melantha and her family into exile to seeing if it was possible to surgically remove her ability to use her Gift. It was only with the greatest reluctance that we finally concluded that this was the only way."

"So what went wrong?" Roger asked.

"We still don't know," Nikolos said, making a face. "A delegation of Greens and Grays met in Riverside Park that night, assembling by the Carrere Memorial."

"Wouldn't the other side of the Parkway, by the river, have suited you better?" Caroline muttered.

"The river?"

"She's talking about how you'd dispose of the body afterward," Roger explained, sounding more than a little uncomfortable.

"No need," Nikolos said, his eyes still on Caroline. "A Green body in contact with vegetation or soil is quickly absorbed, vanishing without any trace Humans can see."

"Like the woman who vanished last night in the courtyard," Caroline said, finally understanding that particular mystery.

"The first casualty of our new war," Nikolos said, his eyes boring into Caroline's." Unless that war can be quickly ended."

Caroline forced herself to hold his gaze. "You were telling us what happened at the park," she reminded him.

The Green's lip twitched. "We'd taken Melantha to a secluded spot and... begun... when the lights on Riverside Drive suddenly dimmed," he said. "Naturally, like idiots, we all turned to look; and as we did, the lights suddenly exploded with such devastating brilliance that we were temporarily blinded."

He reached up and fingered his trassk. "At least, most of us were. But someone in the delegation was obviously in on the plan. The moment the rest of us were blinded, he struck down the Warriors holding Melantha and made his escape."

"What makes you think it was someone from the group?" Roger asked.

"Anyone slipping in from outside the circle would have brushed against at least one of us as he passed," Nikolos said. "But no one did."

"How about from above?" Roger asked. "Velovsky said something about a Gray rappelling gadget."

"Tension lines," Nikolos said, nodding. "Like invisible wires they use to travel between buildings.

But in this case, there was no place to set one up except on one of the buildings across Riverside Drive. In order to pass cleanly over the trees, a Gray would have had to start so high, and to slide in at so steep an angle, that the impact of his landing would have been clearly felt."

He shook his head. "No, it had to be someone in the group, someone who grabbed Melantha and then shoved his way out. Before we could react, they were gone."

"But not before someone got in a parting shot," Roger said, remembering back. "He was bleeding."

Nikolos looked sharply at him. "You saw him? What did he look like?"

"He was just there for a minute," Roger fumbled, clearly startled by the other's reaction. "All we saw

—"

"All we saw was a shadowy figure," Caroline cut him off, touching his hand warningly. "The lights on Broadway were acting funny that night, too."

"What about his body type?" Nikolos persisted. "He was a Gray, wasn't he?"

"Why didn't you just take a head-count afterwards?" Caroline countered. "If it was someone from the group, he obviously would have been missing."

"Obviously," Nikolos said sourly. "Unfortunately, the group didn't stay together the way it should have. Someone panicked and shouted that the Grays had betrayed the truce, and most of the non- Warriors instantly scattered. The Grays did the same, retreating to their strongholds in south Manhattan and Queens. They never got a head-count for their delegation, either." He grimaced. "Or so they say."

"But why would any of the Grays have wanted to keep her alive?" Roger asked.

Nikolos hissed between his teeth. "Because with a truce in place and Melantha dead, the faction who wants war would have no way to draw the rest of the Grays onto their side. They by themselves certainly don't have the strength to defeat us. But if they could kidnap Melantha and claim we had reneged on the agreement, they might be able to rekindle the old rage and envy."

"What about the Greens?" Caroline asked. "Could any of them have decided to go against Cyril's pronouncement?"

"Greens do not 'decide' to go against a Leader's pronouncements," Nikolos said stiffly. "Not even Melantha's parents would have dared do something like that."

"I see," Caroline said, letting that pass for the moment. "At any rate, there's nothing more we can tell you about Melantha's rescuer. As I said, the lights had gone strange."

She looked at Roger, noting the frown creasing his forehead. But to her relief, he'd gotten the message. "That's right," he seconded. "Sorry."

Nikolos pursed his lips, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. "I suppose it doesn't really matter," he said. "Once we have Melantha back, we can simply ask her."

"What will happen then?" Roger asked. "I know you plan to—" he glanced at Caroline "—to pick up where you left off. But after that, what? Are you just going to trust the Grays to stick to their part of the bargain?"

"I don't know what Cyril will decide," Nikolos said. "Personally, I think Manhattan's grown far too crowded of late anyway. My advice would be to sacrifice Melantha to prove our good faith, then pull back to upstate New York where we'll have all the trees we could ever want." He shook his head.

"But that will be a decision for all the Greens to make," he added. "At any rate, you understand now how important it is that Melantha be returned to us. When and where can we pick her up?"

Caroline sensed Roger bracing himself. "We appreciate your time, Mr. Green," he said, his tone suddenly formal. "If you'll give me your phone number, we'll be in touch."

Nikolos's face had gone stony. "We don't have time for games, Roger," he said, a layer of ice coating his tone. "We need her back; and we need her back now."

"No, you don't," Roger said, his voice almost calm. "You need her back by Wednesday. That leaves us plenty of time to decide what to do."

He touched Caroline's arm and pushed back his chair. Caroline followed suit, and they stood up together. "You're making a mistake," Nikolos warned, not moving from his own seat. "We cannot allow you to jeopardize our lives. We will have Melantha back."

"If she's willing to return, we'll deliver her personally," Roger promised. "If not, I guess we'll have more talking to do. Your phone number?"

"Just come back to the park," Nikolos gritted out. "Someone will contact you."

The two Greens who had ridden in the cab with them were waiting outside the door as they emerged from the dining room. Caroline gripped Roger's arm tightly as she walked beneath their silent glares, but they made no move to interfere. "What now?" she asked as they emerged from the building into the chilly afternoon air.

"Subway," he said shortly, turning them to the west and picking up his pace.

He lapsed into silence as they headed across the university. Probably angry with her again, Caroline realized with a sinking feeling.

Even on a Saturday, the campus was comfortably crowded with students and faculty wending their way between the various buildings. Roger led them past Dodge Hall, and Caroline found herself wincing as she looked at the doors leading into the Miller Theater. If she hadn't insisted on walking home from that performance Wednesday night—if she'd just put a leash on her phobias for once and had been willing to ride the subway a few short blocks—they never would have been marched at gunpoint into that alley and gotten themselves into this mess.

Of course, in that case, Melantha would probably be dead. Maybe she was anyway.

The subway car was rumbling its way south before Caroline plucked up the courage to speak. "Are you mad at me, Roger?" she asked tentatively.

To her relief, he merely frowned at her. "No, of course not," he said, sounding puzzled. "Why would I be?"

"I don't know," she said. "I thought maybe I talked too much in there. You've been so quiet since we left."

"I was just trying to sort it all out," he said, reaching over to take her hand. "What do you make of it?"

"Mostly, it seems inconsistent," Caroline said. "Nikolos makes the Greens sound all noble and civilized, but admits they're willing to murder a twelve-year-old girl in cold blood."

"For the good of the rest of the Greens," Roger reminded her.

"I don't care if it's for the good of the known universe," Caroline countered. "It's still wrong. I also can't believe the Grays are so callous that they'd demand it."

"They were the ones shooting into the trees during the war," Roger reminded her. "Or are you going to tell me there's another side to that story, too?"

"There's another side to every story," Caroline said, trying to keep her voice even. Arguing with him wasn't going to get her anywhere. "And we need to hear theirs before we make any kind of judgment."

Roger grunted and lapsed back into silence. The 96th Street stop—the one by their building—came and went, apparently without him noticing. Caroline thought about pointing it out, decided it would be safer to pretend she hadn't noticed it, either.

"All right," he said as the train pulled into the 86th Street station. "Compromise. Let's go back to the Youngs' and look around. If Melantha's lying low, she has to expect we'll come back for her."

"If she's there, why didn't she answer when I called to her this morning?"

"Maybe she was afraid to," he said. "Maybe there were still Greens or Grays hanging around."

"You think they'll be gone by now?"

"No idea," Roger admitted. "But right now, it's all I've got."

"Okay," she said. "That sounds fine."

"Yeah." He exhaled, just loudly enough for her to hear. "Sorry," he added. "I'm just—I'm not very good at this."

"You did just fine," Caroline assured him, a bit surprised by the vehemence of his confession.

Usually when he felt this strongly about his weaknesses, she got the brunt of his self-anger. "In fact, you did better than fine," she added. "You kept control of the conversation, and probably got a lot more out of him than he planned to give us."

"I doubt that," Roger muttered. "But thanks anyway. I'm just sorry I didn't do better when they forced us into that cab."

"I'm not sorry," Caroline told him, frowning. Why was he apologizing about that? "We wouldn't have learned any of this if they hadn't taken us to Nikolos."

"As it turns out, yes," he said. "But you sure weren't happy about it at the time."

"I wasn't upset," Caroline protested. "Really."

"You were awfully quiet."

She frowned. Was that what had put him in this mood? "I was listening," she said. "Trying to make out what they were saying."

It was Roger's turn to frown. "What are you talking about? They didn't say a single word the whole trip."

"Not out loud," Caroline agreed. "But it was like—" She paused, trying to find the right words to describe it. "You know how sometimes when you're by a stream that's running over a lot of rocks you can hear a kind of murmuring? When I was young I used to pretend the stream was talking to the woods. It was kind of like that."

"Really," Roger said, clearly intrigued. "Could you get any words, even ones you couldn't understand?"

She shook her head. "I could tell they were talking to each other, but that was it."

"What about with Nikolos? Could you tell if he ever talked to anyone?"

"Not really," she said. "Of course, he was farther away from me than the Greens in the cab."

"Which probably means your range is pretty short," Roger concluded. "Too bad."

"Sorry," Caroline said automatically.

To her surprise, he grinned at her, possibly the first genuine smile she'd gotten from him since this whole thing began. "Don't apologize, hon," he assured her. "It's not exactly your fault. I wonder why you could hear it and I couldn't."

"Maybe I was sensitized when Cyril tried to get me to bring Melantha to him," Caroline suggested.

"Maybe," Roger said. "It's as good an explanation as any." He nodded out the window at the subway tunnel wall flashing past. "Times Square coming up. We need to change trains."

Caroline braced herself. "Roger... what happens if we do find Melantha? Do we just hand her over to Nikolos?"

Roger shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "Let's worry about it then."