"The rest of you? Rotate, the watch. I've put an illusion across the gate on the other side, so they can't see you with their eyes, but cameras and such will." He stared down at all the young faces. "Bloody hell, don't you guys also do anything stupid!"
Ice leaped through the gate.
Furkan and Mikel were already well down the street.
Furkan tossed a grin over his shoulder. :: You are their enemy. You cannot come with us. ::
Ice ground his teeth. :: Please yell for help before it's too let for me to save your asses. ::
He huffed as Mikel's laugh echoed off the hard walls.
Why isn't there any one here? Why is there no traffic?
He closed his eyes and felt the surroundings for a recognition point. Then followed the other fools, ready to warp light at the first sign that they'd been noticed. Three long blocks and he cut right for the water tower. A design he'd seen on every World that had had a century or more of Drei Occupation. He warped light and headed for the fence. Metal mesh. He sliced three sides of a rectangle. Pushed it out enough to slide through, bent it back into place and jogged across to the base of the tower. A few minutes to fiddle the door, and shove the gene editors into the intake pipe and he was out and headed for the big building.
He broke into a run as he felt a wave of mental outrage.
By the time he was in sight of the broad stairs up to a fancy main entrance it was swarming with Cyborgs. Not swarming, they're much to orderly, but they're looking inward, to prevent the escape of those idiots.
Ice veered around to the side, and spotted activity around a smaller door. Mentalists exiting cars and forming up to head inside.
He forced himself to stop and pick up another recognition point.
He popped open a bag, grabbed the coat of his best Russian suit, closed the bars and trotted closer, shrugging it on.
It's red, the right style, might not raise alarms if people are watching cams.
An illusion of the right sorts of pants and boots . . .
I'm an idiot to think I can do this!
Ice dropped the light warp as he rounded to last car and radiated a faint unnoticeable spell, and equally weak feeling of recognition, and stepped up beside the last man and trooped in without getting a second glance.
They strode quickly down a long hallway, up a flight of stairs. Cyborg guards opened ornately carved doors, and they walked out onto the floor of a hemispherical chamber.
Three sections, ten tiers each . . . Ice swallowed as he brain toted up three hundred . . . representatives of the Drei Mächte Bündnis?
We cannot possibly have found the actual Three Hundred, can we?
And just walked in?
". . . a threat! We merely wish to talk. To open peaceful relations for trade and . . ."
The Prophet Furkan's voice was drowned out by a roar of outrage from the Three Hundred.
Ice looked up at the podium.
Furkan and Mikel. Three men in three styles of dress, trapped in side a cylindrical shield.
Cyborg guards on the steps up, pressing on shields at either side.
"KILL THEM!" One of the three trapped men pointed emphatically at Furkan and Mikel, his voice echoing oddly from inside.
Ice slammed his shields shut as an onslaught of power hit a mental shield above.
He spun and headed for the steps, gesturing for the Cyborgs to get out of his way. Which worked for a bit, then a confused query from the mentalists below.
"Who is that? He's not one of us! Get him!"