The aether of the city was an irritant — thick with the projected and discarded energies of thousands of people. It prickled against his senses like an atmosphere of coughs. And if he hadn't been so keyed up, so amped with righteous indignation...

Grant gazed up at him with the most pathetic look on his face. He wouldn't sit in the hard council office waiting room chairs, he'd squatted down next to where Kilian sat. And he wasn't hiding anything. It was all laid out in the unseen like a buffet — thoughts, emotions, judgments, admonishments.

"It's hardly a crusade," Kilian snapped only half chewing the various objections his companion levied. "I'm doing the right thing."

"You're frustrated with basic and think deep-throating the boot will turbo-charge your career," Grant said in a flat tone, his large hands cradling the diamond-cut of his jaw. "I'm trying to understand your strategy here, but you're the son of the King's right hand. You are already on an irregular path and this shit isn't like you. You're not like..." His voice broke off in frustration. "Like this shit —" He tapped the Captain's bars on Kilian's jacket. 

Kilian shook his head. He'd not been able to make Grant understand even though it had been Grant that had initially heard the signal out in the wilds. He'd not known what to make of it, but to Killian it was as if someone was speaking to him in his native tongue — in their native tongue. The inferences and ominous nature of the message could not be clearer.

The fact that the rest of their highly specialized Dyadic Mystic team couldn't hear the code — allegedly not even the master adept General Amon — unsettled Kilian. It had come through the aether like machine code, like the things they were on a mission to destroy. And although Amon had indulged Grant and Kilian, even though the troop spent days tracking the strange message through the mountains... It seemingly led to nothing.

Amon had advised him to drop it. He had assured him that they'd picked up on some corrupt signal from a malfunctioning butcher. But Kilian hadn't been able to get the code out of his head. He could still hear the refrain deep in his mind and months had passed before the right incident lent credibility to him hauling off on a short leave with the troops' signal reader.

In an unrelated incident, Grant had a bad interaction with a butcher. Shaved off part of his left hand. The man obviously needed some time out of the wilds. He needed to be among civilization and Kilian sold Amon that he'd been looking for the right opportunity to visit his old man.

He'd not seen Hector Molloy in 15 years and wasn't likely to see him on this trip.

Grant bowed his head and pressed his fingers into the sides of his head. "How can you take this shit, bro? It's so goddamn loud here. This was a shitty idea for a vacation."

Kilian shook his head and tapped the side of Grants head gently, extending himself into the aether around his colleague. Of course it would be loud for a guy like that, Grant had been brought in from the wilds and was less than a year into basic. He wasn't a generator, wasn't a manipulator, he was a simple signal reader — basically a giant ear in the aether.

Grant let out a long exhale and sunk deep against the wall, his heavy-lidded eyes closing for a moment as he reveled in the relative silence Kilian's energy allowed him.

Hell, if he wanted to Kilian could fold the whole aether in on itself and roll it against the roof of his mouth, he could amplify it in the generator of his mind and send it back out on itself. He could knock every man, woman, and child within a five-block radius senseless. But he'd never be allowed in the city again.

Beside him, Grant stiffled a laugh, "Man, you know you're not that good."

Kilian sniffed the air roughly and tugged a bit at the net of enveloping energy around Grant.

The man's eyes fluttered open in an expression of shock — the chaotic tell-tale eyes of the Mystic were less pronounced on Grant, his irises were mismatched between a deep honey brown and a mirror-black with gold flecks that looked like sparks against a night sky. Kilian knew he was far less pleasing looking than his friend — Grant with his dark, almost even complexion, his scar mostly hidden by the thick black braids that would hang like a mane over the Dyadic undercut, the severity of his heart-shaped face hidden by the scruff that clung to the tight angle of his chin. But Grant was underpowered. Grant shuddered, words failing him as Kilian lowered the shield of his energy back around him.

After a few moments he managed a rough, "Jesus, K. I didn't think you'd do me like that." And Kilian thought he'd have to apologize for a moment until the screen next to the doorway kicked on.

"Attention, Dyadic Captain Malloy, Kilian A., accompanied by Dyadic Sergeant Bramlet, Grant J., your meeting with Councilman Lane, Charles M. has been rescheduled to the 15th hour at the Court Complex, you will report to the House of Lane's waiting room on the fifth floor."

Kilian scowled, that gave them less than thirty minutes to cross eight city blocks during a common shift change period. 

"I thought Lane was our representative? I thought his office was here on the Dyad block?"

The screen paused as it processed the answer.

"Councilman Lane, Charles M. holds public offices in Isosceles at the Dyad Complex, at the Court Complex, and in Silver City at the Provincial Complex."

"Well then, where's the Court Complex, K?" But Grant was already getting to his feet, walking toward the screen to check the clock and map.

Kilian was not done, he addressed the screen again. "Why was our meeting rescheduled last minute and moved to a different office?"

The screen paused again. Grant had already reached it and saw the map on the screen. His followed the mapped out path and he realized how far there was to travel in so little time. "Well, we'd better get going."

Within seconds, Grant was already on his way out the door, but Kilian was still waiting for the screen to respond.

Grant leaned back as he held open the door to the chilly afternoon outside, "K, come on! We've got to get a move on if we're going to make it."

Kilian narrowed his eyes and asked again. "Why was our meeting rescheduled and moved to a different office?"

The screen paused and finally answered. "No reason was given."