Heart of Obsidian

Pure Psy

“FOOLS.” VASQUEZ DROPPED out of the PsyNet after reading a sampling of the thousands upon thousands of citizen opinions that had come in since Hong Kong burned.

The vast majority were virulently anti-Pure Psy, which only went to show the extent of the decay corrupting their society. Rather than seeing in Pure Psy their chance for redemption, the populace saw only what their weak minds had been programmed to see—Psy who weren’t toeing the line, weren’t being the sheep they were meant to be.

It had reached the point that the Silence of his faithful was being questioned. That could not be permit—

Sir! The mental voice of one of his trusted deputies, the tone urgent. I’ve walked into a trap! Krychek’s men are closing in.

Do not allow them to take you! Vasquez ordered. You know too much.

I won’t let you down, sir.

Two minutes later, came a final message—Absolution in Purity—and then the nothingness that indicated the deputy had ended his life rather than risk betraying the cause.

Vasquez deleted the man’s name from his mental list. It was the fourth name he’d crossed off in the past thirty-six hours, all belonging to individuals high in the Pure Psy command structure. If he’d had any doubt that the Arrows had been shot at Pure Psy, it had just been erased.

There was a decision to be made, and it was not one he had thought to make so soon, but their enemies were getting too close. For Pure Psy to achieve its goals, it must survive to continue the fight, because without Pure Psy’s leadership to lead the Psy race out of the darkness, their people would soon be extinct.

Sending out a simple code via a single-use cell phone that he dismantled straight afterward, he made his way to a comm unit he would destroy as soon as this was done. All of his surviving deputies called in one after the other within the next minute, each utilizing a single-use mobile comm. He could see their faces, but they couldn’t see him or one another, which meant they could not give up their fellow soldiers if caught.

None spoke, aware they had only a two-minute window.

“We are being hunted,” he told them. “And our enemy is strong. It’s time to initiate the Phoenix Code.”

Men and women alike, they gave brisk nods, and he knew the task would be done. That was why he had handpicked each deputy, chanced trusting them with critical parts of his plan. It was the only option. “Do not delay. You’ve already lost four of your brethren. You must put your pieces in play and disappear.”

Knowing the caliber of the opponents on their trail, he knew that speed alone wouldn’t be enough. “I, together with a small team, will personally instigate a diversion to assist you. Make use of it.” It was of concern that the plan for the diversion was one he’d had to put together in haste and without the necessary reconnaissance, but things did not always go according to plan in a war. “You have your orders.”

“Sir.”