her. "Hello. . . quantum physics, quantum mechanics. . . . Y'all need to read, I swear!"
Damali let out a heavy sigh. It was always a clash between yin and yang, male and female energy in the house and battle tactics. She couldn't even begin to deal with the shock of Yonnie knowing her condition. That reality had spiked a panic rush within her that she just had to suck up and let go, because if Yonnie knew then it wouldn't be long before the darkside figured it out. Her only hope was that the Light had somehow silver-shielded her. Not knowing for sure, though, was the terrifying part. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to address that right now.
"We're fighting on multiple fronts," Damali said, moving to the kitchen counter. "They're using natural disasters to flush us out, sending fire, floods, twisters, whatever they can through our old stomping grounds. They know we have to move to avoid all that, and if they see a miraculous reversal of nature-like a fire going out on its own, or whatever, they'll know where to target more pressure. So, I'm guessing, Heaven wouldn't blow our cover like that-but has given us the means to help ourselves outta that type of jam." She used her fingers to count off the points, sporadically moving tabletop items around to visually make her case.
"Then they went after human capital-people's psyche's and spirits, and are breaking people's backs with the economy," she added. "They figured if the disasters don't drive us out into the open, clusters of really horrific human behaviors might send our team in on a reconnaissance mission to investigate or to try a direct intervention. But I say let's use our resources to flood the airwaves with messages of hope and love and get people helping their neighbors more . . . let's move that psi around and start chipping away at the 11 percent we need to sway the balance, because that's the only thing that's gonna inoculate people from the darkside taking up residence in their spirits."
Damali folded her arms again and gave the men around her a slight smile. "My condition hasn't made me all wishy-washy. Once we narrow down the target, we kick their asses. I'm just trying to be efficient and minimize human casualties."
"Damn," Yonnie said, smiling. "Your woman is still gangsta, man. I love it!"
"That's why I love her," Carlos said with a half smile. He looked at Damali, his smile fading as he tried to comprehend her strategy. "So, we get the underground Guardian teams to start blowing up the Internet and guerilla radio waves and all that with what . . . like stories of victories?"
"Yeah," she said flatly. "I'm not saying we ask people to put their heads in the sand or to try to convince them that bad things aren't happening out there, or that the economy doesn't suck. But we want to remind them that there's stillmore good than bad overall. And we get our rebels to start playing cuts from every positive artist we can, even if it's old music.Get the Covenant in the loop, too, in order to get word out to the houses of worship to stop talking about everything that's going wrong, but start claiming victory about all the good that is happening, despite the seeming odds. That ought to begin to create a reversal of some of those possessions."
"I'm down with that," Shabazz said. "Makes sense from a manifesting energy standpoint . . . what you think is what you attract-but get to the part where we hunt their asses down."
"Follow the money," Carlos said, stepping closer to the counter.
Damali backed up and watched, loving how his former confidence clicked into place like a loaded Glock the moment he knew his boy Yonnie had his back. It was amazing to witness and they hadn't violated any rules . . . Yonnie knew because Yonnie was Yonnie. She watched Carlos begin to talk with his hands over the surface of the countertop, the heat beginning to cast hologramlike, shimmering images just above it.
"The West Coast is, for all intents and purposes, gone," Carlos said.
J.L.'s presence in the doorway made everyone look up. His eyes were bloodshot with dark shadows beneath.
"I got something here," he said, entering the room with a bucket filled with oddly cut copper piping."Was up all night. Blood Music got gobbled up by a Canadian firm because the dollar is stronger abroad now . . . Council