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The Partisan Chronicles
[That One Time in Delphia] 7 - The Thing About Making Friends

[That One Time in Delphia] 7 - The Thing About Making Friends

Rhian

After meeting with Strauss, I made my way back to the lair where I knocked on the front door, spoke the pass-phrase, “VD—it’s not what it sounds like,” and once inside, I climbed down the hatch and into the cellar. The defects were holed up in an allied Barren’s house across the street from the Liaison’s estate. This is important, seeing as the Liaison was a crooked son-of-a-bitch. It wasn’t too tricky working that out. The defects had access to his seal, which, let’s face it, they could have stolen. But actually, on the night we were introduced to the lair, a pair of the Liaison’s men paid the defects a visit. They came through a locked door in the cellar rather than down the hatch from the house upstairs. I reckoned that door would lead straight to the estate, but I’d test that theory later.

The Assembly’s estimation of around twenty defects was accurate enough. On the first night, we counted fifteen. We couldn’t be sure there weren’t more.

The base itself was cozy enough. There were landscapes hanging on the walls, throw pillows on the couches and the floor, and a handful of colourful carpets keeping people's feet warm. Whoever put it all together had a good eye for design and whatnot. The place was bigger than expected. Bedrooms, workshops, and loads of space for eating and lounging around. Not too tricky sorting out how they’d expanded the underground, seeing as it smelled like rotten eggs. I’d know that smell anywhere.

After being concocted over on the Isle of Tuition a few years before, the fire-powder problem was spreading across the territory like that horrible rash Michael forgot to make me promise never to speak of again. Considering the barrels stacked around the lair, and the fact there were folks manufacturing fire-weapons in those workshops I mentioned, it didn’t bode well for our Chasers. Palisade hadn’t caught up to the trend yet. Frankly, I’d hoped they’d never have to.

Anyhow. Gus was better than I was at doing a lot of things. Spinning stories, playing pranks, sleight of hand, being bored. But the most important thing he was better at, was making friends. When I arrived in the cellar, he was gathered around a table with four others—laughing, drinking, and playing a game of cards.

Based on the stacks of notes, the Senec was winning.

Goddess-be-damned psychics.

Gus waved me over.

Taking stock of those around the table, there was the Senec, an Endican, and two Delphi. They smiled when they saw me. It was special on account of the Senec people were basically stoic and definitely mute. I’d never seen one smile afore. This one had nice teeth. There weren't any free chairs around the table, so I plopped down on Gus’s knee.

“Rhian, I’d like you to meet my new best friends.”

Look, if I had a note for every time Gus had a new best friend, I’d have four more notes.

Going clockwise around the table, he introduced the first Delphi as Sheep. Strange name, but the man had style. He wore a camel-coloured suit and a fancy necktie. The tones did wonders against his dark complexion and neatly trimmed beard. The second Delphi was a flaxen-haired lady, looking smart in a grey blazer and a pair of wire spectacles. Gus introduced her as Turtle. Another weird bloody name, but whatever. I waggled my fingers.

The Endican sat two heads taller than the others. It was tricky for the northern giants to find clothes outside Endica, but his were a perfect fit. Reckoned there was a tailor in the mix. Anyhow, this one seemed the most reserved of the lot, but his smile was the warmest—even if I could hardly see it behind his big old beard. I’ll give you three guesses as to his name afore telling you it was Bear. I was sensing a theme.

“I’m sensing a theme,” I said, looking at the Senec next.

“The one taking our notes today is Llama,” Gus said.

The Senecs around Palisade tended to wear robes and walked around barefoot, but not this one. This one wore a pair of rubber boots, a plaid shirt, and a straw hat. Let me tell you: it was interesting to see what the defects did with their freedom. It often involved brave fashion choices.

"Llama?" I asked. "Is that another animal?”

Llama nodded. “Only the finest.”

A smiling, talking Senec. Imagine that. “Uh huh—well, I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s like a small, woolly camel,” Bear added.

Couldn’t be sure if they were fucking with me or not. I squinted. “What’s with the animal names, anyhow?”

“We’ve been together a while,” Sheep said. “Long before this place.”

There was something sarcastic about the way he said this place. Almost like that place was make-believe.

Turtle nodded. “It started with Bear because, well...” It went without saying. “Then when the rest of us needed code names…”

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“Say, what would our animal names be?” Gus asked.

The Animals considered Gus in silence for about five minutes.

“Rabbit,” Llama said. “Definitely.”

The others nodded matter-of-factly before targeting me.

“This one’s even easier,” Bear said. “Donkey.”

Well, that's all it took for Gus to break out in a fit of hysterical laughter. If it weren’t for my Strachan reflexes, I’d have fallen flat on my goddess-be-damned donkey.

Turtle and Sheep smiled, Llama nodded sagely, and Bear seemed confused.

“What’s funny about donkeys?” the Endican asked. “They’re honest creatures with a strong sense of personal responsibility, self-sacrifice, and service…”

Gus breathed a few deep breaths.

"…and sometimes they’re asses,” Bear added.

And there it was again. Rabbit? Hyena's more bloody like it. Gus wiped the tears from his eyes.

It wasn’t as if I was fixing to argue with Bear. Empaths had a special relationship with animals, and frankly, he nailed it. Besides, donkeys are cute. “Fine, fine—I’m a donkey. Moving on. What are we playing?”

“It’s a game we came up with.” Sheep motioned to the cards spread out on the table. “It’s called Barnyard Blitz.”

“All right, now you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

"Yeah." He nodded.

Turtle smiled and pushed her spectacles up when they slipped.

I could see why Gus chose this lot to be his new best friends, but just as we were about to settle in for a game of who-the-bloody-hell-knows-what, a sharp-dressed man in a shiny blue suit stepped into view. At first, I’d have sworn his hair was red and that his eyes were blue, and then they were brown, and then he was blond. And then his hair was black, and then his eyes were green. For a minute, he had a beard, and then it was gone. Goddess-be-damned mind tricks. I blinked a few times and shook my head. The man’s hair stopped on white, and his eyes were the most striking shade of silver I’d ever seen.

“It pleases me to see you settling in,” he said.

“We’re just happy to be here,” Gus replied.

The pretty man in the shiny suit nodded a few times slowly. “Yes, well—allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vincent Delestade. Welcome to my home.”

VD—it explained the pass-phrase. I also recognized the name. He’d gone AWOL from Palisade about four years ago. Glancing around the table, the other defects seemed at ease around the leader of the pack, even if that Sheep fellow made it seem as though he didn’t care for the place. That was interesting.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Vinny,” Gus said. “You probably already know this about us, but I’m Feargus, and this is Rhian.”

Vincent Delestade stepped in toward the table, offering a handshake to the both of us. We obliged, obviously. The man's nails were clean and carefully clipped. I felt sorry for him having to touch us.

He turned to the other defects next. “My friends, may I borrow our new arrivals?”

Sheep shrugged. Bear shrugged. Llama shrugged. Turtle smiled and adjusted her spectacles.

From the lounge, Delestade led us down a long corridor. He unlocked the door at the end, stepped inside, and ushered us into an office. It was nice and filled with office-like things and whatnot. Once the three of us were alone, he smiled warmly and clapped his hands together. “Well—Agent Finlay. Enforce Sinclair. Let me start by saying I know why you’re really here, and it’ll be easier for everyone if we set aside our pretenses and speak plainly.”

Silence.

“Allow me to elaborate.” Delestade spun a sapphire ring around his finger a few times. “I may know why you're really here, but I don’t care why you’re really here. I trust you’ll find me more agreeable than the defectors with whom you are accustomed.”

Silence.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” The telepath clicked his tongue, shook his head, and took his seat behind a desk. It was also nice and whatnot. He motioned to the leather chairs opposite. “If you’re not going to speak, will you at least sit and listen?”

Silence, but we took our seats.

Vincent Delestade sighed. “When I first conceived this project, the idea was to create a safe haven for those who’d seen the light; a home for those who recognized the Assembly for what they are—for those who recognized our talents for what they are: gifts; not tools to be taken advantage of and utilized for our captors' corrupt causes.”

Silence.

“At first, everything was exactly as I imagined. I daresay we became like family—a family to replace those of which we were so rudely robbed. But now, yet again, here we are—puppets and props for another unscrupulous institution. Those who were once my family have been twisted and turned against our peaceful purpose. The Liaison has filled their pots with honey, empowering them with falsehoods of freedom. And now? My family has fallen. They’ve become angry and violent, and while the mere thought of it sickens me to the core, they are past the point of redemption. They must be stopped, and it must be soon, and I cannot do it without your help.”

Silence, but Gus and I shared a side-eye.

“Please,” he said. “Say something—anything.”

“Angry and violent?” Gus said. “Even the Animals?”

“No,” Delestade said. “Your new best friends remain pure. They are looking for a way out, but there is none. They are trapped—I am trapped.”

Gus and I shared another side-eye.

“Did you have anything to do with that plan to steal the Tear?” I asked.

“Colourful cosmos, no.” Delestade raised his hands as if proving they were empty would also prove he was innocent.

Silence, but we believed him.

“Enforcer Sinclair, Agent Finlay, if it’s currency you need, or possessions, or—whatever it is, I will get it for you.”

“No,” I said. “We don’t need any of that.”

“What can I say or do to convince you?”

Another side-eye.

“How about one future favour,” Gus said.

“Each,” I added.

“One future favour each?” Delestade repeated.

“Aye,” we said together.

“One future favour each.” The telepath smiled. “We have a deal, my friends.”