torment her to make a point unless I was there to witness it.
It was all no good without an audience.
I hoped.
Even with the dark thoughts, it felt good to be in the world again, and moving under my own control. I didnât think I could stand to be trapped inside the headquarters building for long, cut off from the hum of the wind and the whisper of the sea.
Okay, so New York hummed more from traffic and whispered more of sirens, but it still felt good.
The Camaro prowled through traffic like a big, dangerous beastâ¦not feline, the way it was built. More wolf than cat. It turned heads, except for the cabdrivers, who ignored me to the point that I had to look sharp not to add yellow paint to the Camaroâs shiny finish. I couldnât afford to go up into Oversight, not in heavy traffic, but I could sense an electric crackle in the air, potential energy heavy as impending rain, but without the healing moisture. That was going to ground itself soon, and in a particularly ugly manner, if something wasnât done.
Well, the good side of things was that I no longer had to worry about other Wardens second-guessing me when it came to things like this, and for the first time in a long time, I was at full power. So as I hit the bridge and sent the Camaro loping over the water, I concentrated on reading the systems swirling overhead. They were huge, invisible tornadoes of power. Unstable. Charges clicking together in chains, whipping wildly, then breaking when the stresses got too great. This was a reaction problem. The Wardens were concentrating their forces on handling a myriad of disasters; there were bound to be consequences.
And here was a big one.
The sky was surly overhead, soggy with thick, darkening clouds that blew in from the sea. The water under the bridge heaved and breathed on its own, a secret life most of the millions in the city would never even sense, much less understand. Water had memory, of a kind. Blood had DNA, and water had a similar structure that existed only on the aetheric plane. That DNA had been badly damaged over the years, but it still purified itself, renewed itself, struggled continually against the assaults of mankind to corrupt it.
We were damn lucky, the human race. Damn lucky that the earthâs systems protected us as a side effect of its own survival mechanism, because we damn sure werenât smart enough to do it for ourselves.
I considered what to do about all that restless energy upstairs. Lightning would be the most logical plan, but it was risky; it was notoriously difficult to control lightning, and discharging it around the city could cause blackouts. Blackouts caused panics. Panics caused deaths. Deaths were, after all, what I was in this to try to avoid.
Then again, there was going to be lightning, sooner or later, and it was going to be worse if nobody controlled its strikes.
I drove for two hours. That sounds like a respectable driving distance, especially in the horsepower-rich Camaro, but unfortunately, traffic wasnât exactly cooperative. Two hours later, I was still within sight of the city. Iâd hoped to be well out of range before the prickling at the back of my neck told me that something had to be done, because then it would have been someone elseâs responsibility. Iâd been hoping that some Good Warden Samaritan would jump in and have at it, but no such luckâ¦not that I blamed the folks back at Warden HQ. They had something of a full plate at the moment.
I signaled and pulled over to the side of the road in a spray of gravel, emergency flashers clicking. I settled myself comfortably in the bucket seat and let myself go up to the world above, where the landscape washed away into a surreal swirl of fog and color. Brilliant, up here, and a unique birdâs eye view of a gorgeous city. Wow. New York was charged with human purpose, driven by the engine of energy transforming and growing and changing, by passions and hopes and
It was all no good without an audience.
I hoped.
Even with the dark thoughts, it felt good to be in the world again, and moving under my own control. I didnât think I could stand to be trapped inside the headquarters building for long, cut off from the hum of the wind and the whisper of the sea.
Okay, so New York hummed more from traffic and whispered more of sirens, but it still felt good.
The Camaro prowled through traffic like a big, dangerous beastâ¦not feline, the way it was built. More wolf than cat. It turned heads, except for the cabdrivers, who ignored me to the point that I had to look sharp not to add yellow paint to the Camaroâs shiny finish. I couldnât afford to go up into Oversight, not in heavy traffic, but I could sense an electric crackle in the air, potential energy heavy as impending rain, but without the healing moisture. That was going to ground itself soon, and in a particularly ugly manner, if something wasnât done.
Well, the good side of things was that I no longer had to worry about other Wardens second-guessing me when it came to things like this, and for the first time in a long time, I was at full power. So as I hit the bridge and sent the Camaro loping over the water, I concentrated on reading the systems swirling overhead. They were huge, invisible tornadoes of power. Unstable. Charges clicking together in chains, whipping wildly, then breaking when the stresses got too great. This was a reaction problem. The Wardens were concentrating their forces on handling a myriad of disasters; there were bound to be consequences.
And here was a big one.
The sky was surly overhead, soggy with thick, darkening clouds that blew in from the sea. The water under the bridge heaved and breathed on its own, a secret life most of the millions in the city would never even sense, much less understand. Water had memory, of a kind. Blood had DNA, and water had a similar structure that existed only on the aetheric plane. That DNA had been badly damaged over the years, but it still purified itself, renewed itself, struggled continually against the assaults of mankind to corrupt it.
We were damn lucky, the human race. Damn lucky that the earthâs systems protected us as a side effect of its own survival mechanism, because we damn sure werenât smart enough to do it for ourselves.
I considered what to do about all that restless energy upstairs. Lightning would be the most logical plan, but it was risky; it was notoriously difficult to control lightning, and discharging it around the city could cause blackouts. Blackouts caused panics. Panics caused deaths. Deaths were, after all, what I was in this to try to avoid.
Then again, there was going to be lightning, sooner or later, and it was going to be worse if nobody controlled its strikes.
I drove for two hours. That sounds like a respectable driving distance, especially in the horsepower-rich Camaro, but unfortunately, traffic wasnât exactly cooperative. Two hours later, I was still within sight of the city. Iâd hoped to be well out of range before the prickling at the back of my neck told me that something had to be done, because then it would have been someone elseâs responsibility. Iâd been hoping that some Good Warden Samaritan would jump in and have at it, but no such luckâ¦not that I blamed the folks back at Warden HQ. They had something of a full plate at the moment.
I signaled and pulled over to the side of the road in a spray of gravel, emergency flashers clicking. I settled myself comfortably in the bucket seat and let myself go up to the world above, where the landscape washed away into a surreal swirl of fog and color. Brilliant, up here, and a unique birdâs eye view of a gorgeous city. Wow. New York was charged with human purpose, driven by the engine of energy transforming and growing and changing, by passions and hopes and
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