Contact (Conti.)

"Hello! Welcome to the CCT. How may I help you?"

"Communications room, please," I requested.

"Absolutely! Could you please place your scroll in the terminal to verify your identity?"

I withdrew my scroll and scanned it casually.

Being terrorists made a lot of things more difficult for the White Fang, as one might expect. ID checks, for example, did not mesh well with terrorism—and anyone who wants to make a cross-continental call needs to have a scroll registered to them and have it scanned. The location of the call also needed to be stated, so who you were calling was an issue as well.

Luckily, the White Fang had long since adapted to such difficulties and as I was sort of with them for the time being, they'd showed me how—both in person and in the security books Blake and Tukson had fed me. The scroll that Blake had given me was registered to a false ID, though it was a bit more complicated than that due to what it took to keep things that way, both in the hard and software of the scroll and in terms of the infrastructure that supported them. The long and short of it was that if you knew how and you had a few things in the right places, you could make your scroll say what you wanted it too; an invaluable skill, if you knew how to use it, due to how much relied on Scrolls nowadays and what you could get on and off them with the right equipment.

And I'd gotten pretty good at doing it, as part of my Disguise and Theft skills.

"Perfect," The automated voice said once it was finished. "Thank you, Mr. Younis."

I waited patiently as the elevator took me up, a pleasant smile on my face. When the door opened, I walked up to the hologram manning the desk.

"Welcome to the Atlas Cross-Continental Transmit Center," She said, giving me a gentle smile. "How may I help you?"

"I need to make a call to Tukson's Book Trade in Vale, if possible," I said.

"Certainly," She replied. "If you could head over to terminal four, I'll patch you through."

"Thank you," I nodded at her politely. "Have a nice day, ma'am."

"You too, sir." She replied as I walked away.

I couldn't really take the credit for this next bit; most of it was having friends in the right places. A fake identity can get you through the door pretty easily, but once inside, all CCT transactions were recorded. This was an obstacle when you were, say, wanted criminals communicating across the globe, but only a minor one if you're properly prepared. Odds were good that Adam and Blake had changed IDs already, if not their scrolls, but that wasn't too uncommon among White Fang operatives on their level. It could make them hard to reach in an emergency, however, because if something happens, suddenly they're someone else.

For that reason, the White Fang had a number of go-betweens who would take such messages and pass them up whatever line was needed to reach their destination. Tukson served such a role, at least in part, and Blake had told me to reach them through him if the mission went badly enough that we got separated and sent on the run. And yeah, it was yet another way spying was ruined by practicality. Secret messages, encryptions, and cyphers may have been cool, but it was amazing how far you could go with an answering machine and some common sense instead.

The screen beeped several times, trying to get the message through, but no one answered; I wasn't surprised, given the time zones involved, and it didn't matter. When it prompted me to leave a message, however, I spoke.

"Hey, it's Jonah," I said. "Sorry I couldn't make it; my flight got delayed and something came up. I just wanted to tell you I'd be there as soon as I could. I wanted to thank you and Bee again for the books. Can you tell the others I'm bringing back something? Just tell them to call the moving guys, okay? Talk to you when I get back."

I hesitated for a moment, finger hovering over the button that would end the message. He'd get the message, I was sure of that, and Blake and Adam call their friends at the town to help get things in order. That's all I really needed to do here and it'd be wise to leave—not because of any danger, but because of the temptation to do something unwise. I looked at my reflection in the table, watching as my smile faded, and wanted nothing more to make another call.

There were a lot of reasons that was a horrible idea. At this point, my mom—assuming she wasn't in prison for murdering my dad and hadn't escaped—must have been tearing Vale apart looking for me. If I sent her, or anyone else in my family, a message…I didn't doubt for a second that they'd do everything in their power to hunt me down. It'd be easy to figure out that the message had come from Atlas and I didn't put it passed her to come over here in person or, assuming the situation didn't allow for that, calling in all the favors she could to have me hunted down and express shipped back to Vale. I loved my mother, but she could be terrifying when she was angry and I was five million percent certain she was.

There was no situation in which calling my family was going to result in anything but more complications. The smart thing to do was say absolutely nothing, send the message, and walk away.

I tried to imagine how my family must be feeling right now, no idea where I was or if I was even alive. How my dad must feel knowing he might have facilitated my death. How my mother must be terrified and enraged. How my—

I closed my eyes and remembered all the times I'd been on that side of things. When mom didn't call back at night, when everyone left on missions and patrols, when duties and obligations had to come before family and convenience. I'd hated it, been worried and scared and mad and sick, even with my babysitters attempts to calm me down. Being alone in a house that just seemed to get emptier and emptier. Before, it hadn't been so bad, but…

The descendants of Julius were invincible—unstoppable warriors that would never fall, never fail to return. I knew that, had believed it with every fiber of my being since it had first been whispered to me in warm arms.

How could I not believe it when I'd told it to myself a thousand times on a thousand nights? If I didn't…

I wondered what my family would tell themselves and tried to imagine it before heaving a sigh.

Maybe…

"Also, if you get a chance to call my parents, tell them 'Sorry I'm late; I hope I didn't make anyone worry. Things are taking a little longer than expected, but I'll be home soon. Tell everyone I love them. Please don't ground me forever.' It's not an emergency, so…well, you know, I guess." I said, wondering what I was saying. "I'll try to be home in a day or two, but you probably won't be able to reach me for a bit. Just call the guys and don't have to move everything myself and be fine, though. So…yeah. See you later, alligator."

I sent the message and leaned forward, elbow on desk, mouth on hand. I hoped that wasn't a mistake. Tukson was smart; he wouldn't send the message while the mission could be jeopardized, even without my urging. Maybe he wouldn't send it at all or he'd send it while I was flying home or…I don't know. That wasn't the point; the point was that I'd spoken the message, had given it to him. It was a compromise between wisdom and guilt and I knew it, but…

"Yeah, I'll be home in a few days," I murmured, rising. I thanked the hologram again as I left the tower and walked back into town, towards the edge of the city and, beyond it, the edge of civilization.

As night fell, the White Whale glided across the border—a monster swimming in the night with its captain at the helm. If there was a response, I paid it no heed as I flew passed.

I'd always believed there were some lies you could make true.

If so, there was no stopping me now.

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