The Law of Averages

Book 2: Chapter 87: Puzzles

“I think I can do it,” Dan said into his phone.

Anastasia’s voice was flat and unamused. “You think you can hijack another Natural’s power and use that to find other instances of said power?”

That was an incredibly uncharitable reframing of what he’d just told her.

“I think that I can track this specific power, given that I have a functioning example of it right here in front of me.”

“Track how?” Anastasia asked. “Like, point it out on a map?”

“Um,” Dan stuttered for a moment. “No, I’d probably just appear at the location.”

“Whereupon you’d be immediately shot if the cache is in any way guarded.”

“Yeah…” Dan grimaced. “I’m working on an alternate solution.”

“Work quickly,” Anastasia growled. “If the People are capable of hiding in these caches, my job has just become a lot more complicated.”

“You’re not going to do anything hasty, are you?” Dan asked hesitantly.

The woman snorted. “Not quite yet, no. I’d hoped I could spring whatever trap Echo is planning, but if he can hide away a huge chunk of his People, then what’s the point? Even if I get the man himself, the rest are effectively unreachable.”

“Except by me,” Dan pointed out.

“Quite,” Anastasia acknowledged. “And I’m not thrilled to execute an operation with a single point of failure.”

“I’m exploring other options,” Dan repeated.

“Newman…” Anastasia hesitated. The pause was almost unnoticeable, but compared to her normal way of speaking it might as well have been a shout. “You need to be careful around the MPD.”

Dan took that statement in, then glanced behind him at the officers wrapping yellow tape around the dead terrorist’s house. Detective Hauss watched from the sidewalk, leaning against García’s cruiser while he reported in to his superiors over the phone. Dan’s veil was spread across the ground in a large spiderweb, partially out of habit and partially out of paranoia. He’d dected nothing abnormal from any officer for the duration of this entire adventure.

Dan turned back around, facing towards the street. “They’ve seemed alright so far.”

“They have a mole,” Anastasia outright stated what Dan had only suspected. “I only discovered it recently, and I am not sure if the mole is ideologically motivated, or merely economically.”

“Bribes?” Dan asked.

“Or favors. Several caches you’ve opened for me have proven that the People were attempting to grow their political power in secret. It’s impossible to say how successful they were, but it is an avenue that you should be aware of.”

“So I’m in danger of being shanked by an ambitious grunt?” Dan muttered quietly. “Why am I only just hearing about this?”

“You weren’t a threat, before,” Anastasia explained. “No mole would blow their cover trying to hide a botched suicide bombing, especially when the attempt was always going to fail to reach its target. Not if there’s an outsider like you there supervising. There’d be no point, nobody left alive to protect. But if they know that you, and you alone, are the key to tracking down these caches— if they even suspect that, then they might act rashly. So: how much have you told the MPD?”

“Um.” Dan glanced back to Hauss, who was currently reporting the enormous amount of information that Dan had dumped into his lap. He considered the piles of evidence—fake, useless, or not—that they’d pulled from this cache. He considered how everyone present knew it was Dan who had done it.

How much had he told them?

“Quite a bit,” he decided.

Anastasia sighed. “Well, they’re not likely to just shoot you at least. I imagine it’ll be something more subtle than that. But try not to find yourself alone with anyone, just in case. It’d be a shame if you got yourself killed. You’re my only key to these caches, and it seems like I’ll be needing you for a while yet.”

“Gee, thanks. Good to know that I’m still useful to you, “Dan replied dryly. “Not that it matters. I’m pretty much done here. No reason for me to stick around observing the MPD, right?”

His job was done here. The cache confirmed a connection to the People, and Anastasia’s home was the obvious target. Even if all the evidence mysteriously vanished, what Dan had learned was more than enough. Dan’s job was done.

“You said you were working on an alternate solution. How are you doing that without access to the cache?” Anastasia asked.

“It doesn’t have to be this one,” Dan pointed out, quite pleased with himself. “I can use any cache, anywhere. Surely you have a few banked up that you haven’t had me clear out yet?”

There was a pause on the line as Anastasia considered that.

“Only suspicions,” she said, finally. “I’ve only ever had suspicions. I can’t see them as you do, but there were several noteable safehouses that we’ve hit over the years that were clearly emptied in a hurry.”

“Wait a minute,” Dan said, holding in his laughter. “So you’ve had me going to these places, without ever actually knowing if I’d find something?”

“I had hunches,” Anastasia growled. “They paid off.”

“Do you have a safe location for me to experiment with, or not?” Dan asked. He had options if the answer was no. He was fairly sure he could track down abandoned caches hidden in the Gap. The issue was bringing them out into reality. Most of these things had been abandoned decades ago. There was no guarantee that they’d pop back out somewhere even remotely accessible, and Dan wasn’t certain how Vault’s power would interact with an obstacle.

“I’ll send you an address,” Anastasia said after a moment. “I believe there is at least one promising site in Florida. I’ll have a few of my people meet you there.”

“Understood,” Dan said. He ended the call, and flagged down a waiting Hauss.

“That’s it for me, so I’ll get out of your hair,” Dan said, shaking the detectives hand. He offered over a business card. “If anything interesting comes out of that shit pile, give me a call?”

“You just dumped a week’s worth of work onto me and you’re asking for a favor?” Hauss asked incredulously.

Dan shrugged without shame. “Yeah.” It couldn’t hurt to ask.

Hauss snorted, but took the little piece of cardstock.

Dan turned to García, exchanging handshakes again. “It’s been an experience.”

“Likewise,” the man grunted back.

Dan glanced at the remaining officers and failed to recall their names.

“Gentlemen.” He nodded at the group.

And with a thought, he was gone.

Anastasia’s directions had Dan in Naples, Florida, the western coast of the state. It was muggy, hot, and miserable, and the claustrophobic fishing shack inside which he stood smelled like old feet and rot. Three of Anastasia’s goons stood guard outside, armed with assault rifles. Another stood at Dan’s shoulder. Unlike his fellows, fit, lean, and threatening, this man was plump and cheerful.

He also seemed extremely familiar.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Dan asked the man, who was holding a large notepad and pencil.

The man smiled brightly. “We’ve met, yes. I drew a portrait of yourself and the lovely Abigail some months back.”

Dan peered at him suspiciously. “You were that guy?”

“I believe I just said so, yes,” the portly man confirmed.

Dan glared at the man’s smug, smiling face. “Somehow, I’m not surprised Anastasia spied on our date.”

“You certainly shouldn’t be,” the man offered with completely genuine good cheer.

Dan decided to ignore him. He turned to center of the room, and pressed his veil over one eye. The now familiar silver blob swam into view. It floated near the back wall, a little smaller than the last one.

“It’s here,” Dan told Anastasia’s spy.

The man nodded and tapped a text on his phone.

“This site is very old,” the round man said. “I don’t imagine you’ll find much of modern relevance.”

“I just need the cache itself,” Dan replied. “The contents don’t matter.”

Preparations were made. Two of the armed goons made their way inside, and posted up next to Anastasia’s spy. Dan approached the orb, giving them a warning to prepare for anything. It was exceedingly unlikely that anything alive was in the cache, but caution had never killed anyone.

Dan’s veil slipped between dimensions, pressing into the orb. Dan felt the connection, felt his veil seize control, and he willed the orb back into reality. Anastasia’s spy swore as it appeared and immediately began to spread. It covered the back wall like rapidly growing fungus, forming itself into the shape of a rectangle. Its surface lost its shimmer, lost its smooth textures, and it resolved into a simple door frame built into the wall.

But the wall was now a corridor, leading into a small room. Dust stirred in the room, as fresh air reached its contents. Dan covered his face with his shirt, and sent his veil in to investigate. He found a room filled mostly with old documents, piled almost up to Dan’s shoulders. Anastasia’s spy walked through doorway, a soldier in lockstep behind him, sketching furiously on his notepad. Dan waited patiently for the men to clear the room.

Time worked differently in the Gap. Dan knew that for a fact, yet these caches clearly operated on a different mechanism. Time had passed for this cache, obviously, just like for every other cache Dan had cracked, yet the fact that the contents hadn’t decayed to dust in the infinite duration of the Gap, told Dan that they were still synched, somehow, with reality. The most likely cause was the Natural himself, his expectation of time bleeding over to his power, and the Gap itself. Dan doubted that Vault was even aware that he was doing it.

The portly spy finished his sketch. With a flourish, he tore the page out of his notebook. The contents of the room vanished with a pop! Wind rustled Dan’s hair as air rushed into the room, yet no dust was disturbed. No dust remained at all. The spy walked out with a cheerful smile and pronounced, “Clear!”

Time for Dan to work his magic.

He let his veil drift into the walls, sinking in deep. He covered both eyes with his veil, and stared upwards, looking into the Gap. He met the robotic, dispassionate gaze of his Navigator. It was little more than a cloud, now; a foggy blob with a few extra sets of disembodied eyeballs. The mind behind his power, so to speak.

Dan needed a door between two places. Between one power, and the next. This cache, and its other selves. They are connected, he told himself, he told his power, he told his Navigator. The man is hidden, but this is not. They are out there in the world, same as anything else. Show them to me.

Show them to me!

…

Nothing.

Dan frowned, waving away his veil, and looked around the room. The spy watched him with a raised eyebrow.

“Any luck?” the man asked.

Dan puzzled it over, and said, “I need you to leave the room.”

Anastasia’s people seemed confused, but complied. They shuffled out of the room, leaving Dan standing alone inside. For the briefest of moments, he contemplated staying, before mentally kicking himself. He joined the others outside, garnering odd looks from everyone present.

Dan ignored them. He kept his veil tethered to the cache, held it tight, and ordered it shut. Anastasia’s men stepped back in alarm, but Dan didn’t move. He kept his gaze forward, as the room shrunk into silvery liquid. He watched it condense, and felt it all through his veil. Another tendril slipped over Dan’s eye, and he saw the transition from reality to t-space.

There!

His veil bridged the Gap, and Dan followed. He found himself in that familiar abyss, at arm’s length from swirling silver. And trailing away from that orb, an invisible tendril tinted azure blue. Dan’s veil followed the path as it bridged dimensions, but he needed to go further. This was the connection. He held it in his hands, gripped it with his veil.

Follow it, he ordered!

Show them to me, he demanded!

And his Navigator obeyed.