Page 3895

“You said before that arranging a meeting with her would take quite a while,” said Zeff. “What has changed?”

Graves didn’t miss a beat. “Everything. The entire world has shifted thanks to the waves.”

A fair point, Zeff supposed, even if it was a little light on details for his liking. “But what, specifically, has changed with her? You said she was on a mission of some sort, did you not?”

“Yes. I cannot go into operational details, of course, but that mission has been thoroughly disrupted. I could easily arrange a transfer for her, temporarily or permanently. It would depend on her decision. You mentioned that you had a falling out with her, yes?”

“Y-yes...”

“Then I wish you the best of luck there. Children can be quite difficult. Especially if she inherited any amount of your stubbornness, eh?”

The man wasn’t wrong, but Zeff didn’t entirely appreciate him saying so.

“By the way,” Graves went on, “if it puts your mind at ease at all, I should mention that I have been sending support to Sair.”

Zeff’s brow lowered, more out of disbelief than anger. “If that is true, then why didn’t you mention it before?”

“I tried. You kept getting enraged so quickly that I never got around to it.”

Zeff’s mouth twisted--this time indeed with anger--but he didn’t say anything.

“And admittedly,” said Graves, raising both hands in front of him, “it is not much. I cannot spare any of my own men here in Vantalay, obviously, and the rest of the Vangaurd is still thoroughly tied up elsewhere. But here and there, I have found available agents to send. It has not been enough to free your lands from Abolish, of course--nor will it be, I expect. But it is something, at least. I thought you should know.”

Brownie points, at best. The man was just saying anything he could now to not sound like the bad guy here, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was trying to convince himself as much as Zeff.

There was still valuable information to be gained, though. Zeff tried to stay on task. “What else do you know of the current situation there?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Is there something in particular you wish to know?”

“Who is leading the defense?”

“That would be Jackson.”

Zeff returned a flat look. “If that were true, Bloodeye would have fled or been killed by now.”

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Zeff took his time processing that information. ‘Real, lasting damage,’ was it? The kind of damage that Zeff had already been fearful was being done to his kin?

Hmm.

Madly, a part of him wanted to put that to the test. To see if the man was bluffing, perhaps.

But no. He was not getting the impression that Graves had told him that as a form of threat--or at least, not just that. It truly may have been wiser to keep that information to himself rather than share it, even as a threat, so Zeff was actually tempted to believe him when he said that he did not have malicious intentions for them.

At Zeff’s silence, Graves continued on. “I do not say that as a threat, by the way. Merely a warning for your future encounters. Overconfidence has laid low many who might’ve otherwise achieved greatness. Please do be careful, my friend.”

Hmph. Had he read Zeff’s mind? No telling, unfortunately. Zeff decided to pose another question that would probably prove useless. “Might you have any advice on how to defend against such enemies?”

Another smile flashed across the man’s face. “Advice, eh? Indeed. How would I go about making my own life more difficult? An interesting question.”

Zeff remained expressionless. From that response, it at least sounded like there were things that could be done--that defense against psychic threats was not impossible.

The field marshal regarded him for a long moment, and after a time, Zeff grew uncertain as to whether or not the man was even going to say anything. It did seem to be asking a lot.

“...Perhaps I can do better than mere advice,” said Graves. And he stood up from his desk. “I have a couple of units that specialize in this sort of thing. And I do believe I promised you a meeting with your daughter, Gema, did I not?”

At that, Zeff’s eyes widened.

Graves paced to the right and scratched at his mustache a bit. “She has undergone anti-psychic training, though it may be a stretch to say that she is at the level of an instructor now. So how about this? Upon our return to Sair, I shall arrange for her unit to meet us there. And they will conduct a few training seminars for you all.”

Zeff was off-kilter. Again, the man had merely invoked Gema’s name, and now it felt like everything had shifted.

He had to remain steady. To not get distracted.

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Graves bobbed his head a little. “It also eases feelings of suspicion and paranoia.”

Lakefire. The man was influencing their emotions, too?

Zeff utterly hated that information.

So much so, in fact, that he was unable to stop himself from asking what was probably a very dangerous pair of questions. “Do you really intend to release us after this is done? Just send us on our merry way back to Sair after all we’ve learned?”

If the field marshal was irritated, however, he did not let it show in the slightest. “No, actually. I intend to help you retake your homeland, just as I said I would.”

Somehow, those words infuriated Zeff even more. The absurdity of them. The impossibility of trusting them. But he did manage to control himself, this time.

Somewhat.

“I find that difficult to believe,” said Zeff.

“Of course you do. But you will see. Time will bear out the truth in my words.”

“After this, I am not certain we will even want your help, Hawk.”

The man seemed amused. “Heh. If it comes to that, then I will still help you, without revealing myself again. A promise is a promise, even to those who won’t remember.”

Smooth-talking bastard. “I will remember,” said Zeff. “I will never forget.”

“...Indeed.” Graves’ expression was a soft one. Sympathetic.

Pitying.

Zeff didn’t know what to make of that, but it certainly wasn’t making his hatred burn any less hot.

He remained silent, though, not wanting to say anything else that he might regret. What was even the point of coming in here, he wondered? What had he expected to accomplish?

Foolishness.

“...Allow me to elucidate one other matter,” said Graves after a short spell of silence. “You seem to be under the impression that you are entirely immune to my abilities. That your Supreme Will grants you total protection. And perhaps the wiser course of action on my part would be to let you continue thinking this. I’m sure it would simplify matters.

“But when I imagine you encountering another psychic at some point in the future--one with truly malicious intentions toward you--I feel compelled to inform you that you are, in fact, not immune. You are merely resistant. Which, for better or worse, means that all of the harmless techniques that I can use on your brethren... would not be so harmless on you. Because in order to influence your mind, I would have to push much harder--and that could indeed do real, lasting damage to you.”