Gatewright by J. M. Blaisus Read Free Book Online

which bristled with extra security.  CIA? 
DIDA?  Neither?
    My
fey escort, a lean woman with green eyes and blonde hair, guided me into a
building on the right, declaring itself the “Security and Pass Headquarters”
above the door.  The architect clearly hadn’t been feeling adventurous,
and it reminded me of a post office from the 60’s, a whitewashed concrete block
exterior and utilitarian, boxy interior.  I peeked at my watch; I was an
hour and 20 minutes early.  Corey and the drive across the Outer Circle
really saved me time.  Yet I wasn’t the first to arrive in the small lobby
lined with plastic chairs. 
    Two
others relaxed as comfortably as they could, illuminated by the morning light
pouring through the singular window.  I recognized one, a thin man in his
late 50s, as Kim Hyun, the deputy director of DIDA.  The other was a
well-muscled woman with several piercings, athletic attire, and a thermos that
almost matched mine.  I suspected we would be great friends.
    The
office was devoid of activity, except for a quiet human security guard at the
intake desk.  She glanced up at me casually but said nothing and returned
to her work. My fey escort dispassionately informed me, “At 10am, you will
proceed through security for an 11am brief on this trip.  Three other
humans will be joining you.”  She left, and I gritted my teeth a
little.  They already had planned on having us wait around for an
hour?  I could have brought a real breakfast with me.
    I
turned my attention to the other travelers.  “Mr. Hyun, a pleasure to meet
you in person.”  Kim wore a freshly pressed suit with an American flag
lapel pin.  He shook my hand with a slight smile and wished me good
morning.  I desperately tried not to grin like an idiot or fangirl over
him.
    I
shifted toward the woman to hide my silly reaction.  “Hi, I’m Jan Leeman.”
    “Isabel
Santiago.”  She gripped my hand with enthusiasm.  “Aren’t you the one
who wrote that brilliant paper on aging, time travel, and interdimensional
communications?”
    I
blushed a little, nodded, and took a seat between them, but it had piqued Kim’s
attention.  “What was the premise?” he inquired.
    I
couldn’t help but grin.  This was my favorite subject; the challenge would
be not going off on a tangent.  “I figured out that contrary to the
legends popular in European folklore, time moves at the same pace in Azry as it
does here, based on carbon-dating methods of fey artifacts and the length of
days there.  It means you can’t use either dimension to time travel, and
the human communication infrastructure is capable of greatly increasing fey
dialogue around the planet.”
    He
nodded approvingly.  “How about you, Isabel?  What is your fey
involvement?”
     
     
    “I’ve
been studying fey design, clothing, architecture, etc, and seeking what I call
a “nexus of influence”, trying to determine which aspects of human culture and
art may have been influenced by early fey Exiles.”  She was clearly proud
of her accomplishments.  No wonder she was excited.  This trip was
HUGE for her career.
    “Wow,”
I murmured, and took a good swig of coffee.  Kim made approving noises about
Isabel’s work, and neither of us asked why he was there; it was pretty
self-explanatory.
    The
next traveler to join us was Erikah Hunter, a well-connected fey rights
advocate with gorgeous curls she had coaxed into a black, shining halo.  A
cream blouse and teal capris contrasted nicely against her deep chocolate
skin.  Brown eyes evaluated all of us critically as soon as she saw
us.  We introduced ourselves politely, Erikah stiffly greeting us in
return.  She looked to be only in her early 30s, but she’d been one of the
key icons in the fight for Exile rights since the very beginning. 
Isabel’s good humor slowly relaxed her, and glimpses of her enthusiasm for the
trip began to break through her formal façade.  She was shy,I
realized.  Erikah must have