The Edge of Ruin

by Melinda Snodgrass

  I’d been trained on how to make a search, so I went through the drawers, checked in the toilet tank, in the freezer, and in the canisters. I found sweaters and underwear and flour and sugar, and frozen food—most of it Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Something to give me some idea where Rhiana might have gone. If she’d fled this multiverse I was screwed, and I couldn’t bear the idea that she’d get away with it.

  But then on the bedside table I’d spotted a leather-bound scrapbook. I had sat down on the bed to look through it. As the mattress sank beneath me, the sheets released the smell of Rhiana’s perfume. There was a time when even the memory of her scent affected me. Not last night. I remembered only the wounds on Angela’s body.

  The scrapbook was on the seat next to me. I parked the car a half block from the house and flipped it open. It contained photos of Rhiana, and press clippings from a small local Van Nuys newspaper as well as the Los Angeles Times. When I saw that, I knew where to find her.

  It had been easy. I had her last name. I knew the city. The family was in the phone book. No detective work required. I had run my theory past Grenier while Brook prepped the plane. Grenier concurred with my analysis, which, of course, made him a genius.

  “Of course she’s going to run home. She’s a kid. Think about it, if you’d done something terrible, wouldn’t you want to run home to Mommy and have her kiss it and make it all better? Tell you everything will be all right?”

  He had then fallen suddenly very silent as he realized that he had manipulated my mother into committing suicide. But I let it go; he had given me what I needed.

  I closed the scrapbook, checked again to make sure I had the sword, got out of the car, and walked down the street toward the house. The sword killed magical … alien creatures. Rhiana was only half human. Whatever happened, it was going to be profound.

  The house was a small, boxy affair with white stucco stained from years of winter rains. Four hoary old palm trees swayed above the house. As I watched, another frond sailed down and landed with a crash on the roof. There were no cars in the oil-stained driveway. I reminded myself that that didn’t mean anything. Rhiana didn’t need a car.

  As I approached the front door, a chorus of barking welled up from the backyard. I could discern three distinct voices—a deep throaty woof, a high-pitched hysterical yapping, and the bell-like bay of a basset hound. Well, the element of surprise was definitely gone. I stepped to the side of the peephole, drew the sword, and knocked.

  She just answered. Probably because she was home. Probably because she felt safe. Emotions flickered across her face like slides in an old-style carousel—joy, fear, relief, surprise, confusion, terror, and it ended on guilt. I didn’t let it sway me. I forced her back into the house and shut the door behind me. She was staring at the sword. I cursed myself. I should have just used it. Touched her the instant the door opened, done the deed and gotten it over with. I guess her guilt had swayed me.

  “Are you … are you … are you?” She sounded like a lawn mower engine trying to catch.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Now that I was inside I got a sense of the clutter. Piles of newspaper stood by the torn sofa. There was a giant fifty-two-inch TV on one wall. The picture had to be blurry in a room this small. There was the smell of toast and bacon grease and pet urine. There were large stains on the cheap green carpet.

  She almost ran toward a wall. I bounded after her, thinking she was trying to escape, but she stopped and pointed at the frame hanging on the wall. On the floor beneath were the shards of a mirror. “Look, see, I broke them all. I’m done with them. They used me. They tricked me. I can help you.”

  “Too little, and way, way too late.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. It sounded faraway and very cold.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t think he’d …” She stopped and tried again. She shouldn’t have. “She was just always there! Getting between us!”

  “There was no us, Rhiana. And you killed her.”

  “No. No. Doug killed her. He was a killer. He killed this other girl. He killed lots of girls—”

  “And you gave Angela to him.” Rage had a taste, like iron filings on the back of the tongue. It was becoming hard to breathe. I took a step toward her and lifted the sword.

  She wrapped her arms protectively around herself and sank down on the floor. “No, Richard, please don’t.” The words echoed the whimpering of the dogs pressed up against the sliding glass patio doors. “Please don’t. Please don’t take my magic away. It’s all I’ve got. It made me special.”

  And I realized she didn’t truly understand what was about to happen. I was suddenly back in the office on the Gulfstream V listening to Kenntnis saying, “My guess is it would be similar to a lobotomy.”

  And I remembered my response. ”I’ll be on Rhiana’s side. I won’t harm her … or allow anyone else to.”

  Things change, I thought.

  You’re breaking your word.

  Things change.

  She seemed unaware of my turmoil. She looked up at me. Those amazing green eyes were filled with tears. They spilled over and ran down her face.

  “You can’t have it both ways,” I said. “You can’t reject the Old Ones and still keep your magic. It ends here.”

  I laid the sword on her shoulder.

  And then I called 911 because it was the worst reaction I’d ever seen and I thought she might die. During that call the phone beeped, indicating another call. I took it after providing the address to the dispatcher. It was Joseph, and he sounded like a man who’d just run a marathon.

  “Richard! Sir. It’s Kenntnis. He’s back. He’s here, but—”

  “Tell him I can’t talk right now.” I had run into the kitchen for a butter knife to place between Rhiana’s teeth.

  “Sir—” Joseph began, but I hung up. And then I turned off my phone because I didn’t want to hear from Kenntnis about how I’d done the right thing. I knew that, but I wasn’t sure I recognized or liked the person who had done the right thing.

  Four minutes later the ambulance arrived. It was forty minutes until the last seizure shook her body. Her mother was called away from the school where she worked in the cafeteria. Her father was just up the Ventura Freeway overseeing the loading of his rig with cantaloupes bound for market. In the chaos that was traffic in Los Angeles, he arrived only a few minutes after his wife.

  I waited in the visitors’ lounge. I wanted to leave, but I had to face her parents. I briefly wondered if Cross had sensed Rhiana’s half-death and reported it to Kenntnis. Kenntnis would understand why I needed time and space to deal with what I’d done. I couldn’t shake the memory of the blank-eyed creature that lay in the hospital bed and plucked mindlessly at the sheet. I had only been allowed to look through the window in the door. It had been more than enough. But Kenntnis was back. It was the right thing to do. For all of us, but most of all for Angela.

  I heard them coming when I heard the neurologist, who’d met us in the emergency room, saying, “It appears to have been a stroke.”

  They turned the corner, and I saw them for the first time. They might not have been related by blood to Rhiana, but there was no doubt they were her parents. Tears coursed down Lottie Davinovitch’s round face. In her haste to reach the hospital she was still wearing a hairnet and apron. Todd Davinovitch was a big man with a linebacker’s shoulders and neck, and the big belly bestowed by middle age. He had his arm around his wife. Behind his beard his face was set in a rictus of grief.

  “But she was only eighteen,” Todd said. Unshed tears roughened his voice.

  “It doesn’t matter the age if there’s a flaw in the brain,” the doctor said gently.

  “If I’d just been there,” Rachel said. “She seemed so upset. I should have called in sick—”

  “Even if you’d been there, there was nothing you could have done.” The doctor indicated me. “We’re just lucky this gentleman found her, or she might have di
ed.”

  I wondered if my guilt showed on my face. I stood up. “I’m Richard Oort,” I said. “Rhiana was working on a project for my company.”

  “Physics?” Todd asked.

  “Yes, my company specializes in high-tech projects. I was out here on business, and she’d told me she was coming home to see you. We met for an early breakfast, but she seemed disoriented and confused, so I stopped by your house to check on her.” The lies flowed so easily. “The front door was open. I knocked, but nobody answered, so finally I went inside. I found her and called 911.”

  It was the hardest thing I’d ever done to stand there and accept their fervent thanks. Each word of gratitude struck like a blow. When they finally fell silent I said, “Since Rhiana was an employee, she’s fully covered under our health plan. All the bills will be paid by Lumina.”

  I saw the wave of relief go across Lottie’s face, followed by immediate guilt that she had even been thinking about financial matters at a time like this.

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Davinovitch. Mrs. Davinovitch. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.” And I gave them my Lumina business card.

  * * *

  “He just was just suddenly here,” Joseph said as we left the underground parking lot and headed for the elevators.

  We were starting the conversation for the third time since he’d picked me up at the airport. I understood his need for constant repetition; despite everything Joseph had seen and experienced in Virginia, it was clear he’d never really believed that Kenntnis wasn’t human.

  “It scared the crap out of Paulette. I was upstairs, and when I got down to the lobby I could see right away that Mr. Kenntnis wasn’t right.” He shot me an anguished look. “He’s smaller and his eyes are weird and he won’t talk to me, but you’ll see.”

  The elevator deposited us at the penthouse, and I stepped out into a wash of dissonant sound. It sounded like a maddened piano tuner was torturing the strings of the piano and a monster was clawing the strings of the Celtic harp.

  The living room was very full of people, all watching Kenntnis. Cross sat on the arm of the sofa eating chocolate cake. His expression was the most interesting. Grief and calculation was how I read it, and it made me nervous. Sorrow and devastation sagged the contours of Dagmar’s face. Grenier, Weber, and Pamela looked confused. Eddie was completely fascinated.

  I reluctantly turned my attention to the founder of Lumina Enterprises. In the past, whenever Kenntnis would enter a room where there was a musical instrument, the instrument would react. Almost like it was singing a greeting, and it was always melodic and beautiful. This cacophony told me more clearly than anything that Kenntnis indeed wasn’t right.

  Kenntnis was pacing up and down in front of the bookcases, trailing his fingers across the spines of the books. The man I’d met last year was a spectacular figure—six foot six, and massive. At first glance he appeared to be African American, but as you studied his features you realized they were an amalgamation of every human racial type. He was Everyman. And not human. Hints from our conversations led me to believe he was hundreds of thousands if not millions of years old.

  I stepped in front of him, trying to halt the pacing. The not human became very clear when I looked into his eyes. Before, they had been dark pools that would occasionally flare with silver lights that were reminiscent of the nimbus that surrounded the sword. Now, they were filled with whirling lights both silver and gold. He was physically smaller, and the body seemed more like a hand puppet being imperfectly manipulated. It was a different emptiness than what had faced me in California, but the result was the same. The essence was gone.

  Kenntnis frowned and stepped around me. I darted in front again. This time he froze, looking confused. “Sir,” I said gently. He shook his head, and the dissonance from the instruments grew louder.

  “Maybe he’ll recover,” Dagmar said.

  “I don’t think so,” Eddie said. He turned away from the glares from Joseph and Dagmar and looked at me. “The information on a light particle degrades the longer it’s held in spin glass. I think that’s what happened. He lost part of himself—whatever himself was … is. It’s certainly fascinating proof of the theory. Shame I can’t write a paper. But everybody would think I was nuts.”

  “If he’s so degraded, then how did he get back here?” Pamela asked.

  “Keep in mind that I’ve never met an alien light creature before,” the physicist said. “This is my guess. I think he was frozen at the exact moment he was preparing to escape. That decision was set, at a quantum level. So when he was suddenly freed, the last conscious action was completed. He ran and ended up here.”

  Weber shook his head. “Okay, I didn’t get that at all.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “What’s clear is that he’s not going to be any help to us.”

  “So what do we do?” Dagmar asked.

  “Well, let’s start by checking out the gate. I’d always assumed that when Kenntnis was freed the gates would close. Let’s see.”

  “You got it,” Eddie said, and he lunged for his laptop.

  I pressed my hand against my forehead; the noise from the instruments was maddening. “Joseph, could you please take Mr. Kenntnis to the conference room? I can’t take this noise any longer.”

  And I realized I’d said the wrong thing. Joseph bridled. “This is Mr. Kenntnis’s home.”

  Cross stood up. “Nope, it’s not. He gave it to the kid here. And he’s not Mr. Kenntnis anymore. Face it, he’s a ’tard.”

  There it was, stark and cold. Fortunately Eddie provided a distraction before I descended into gibbering panic.

  “Got it,” he sang out.

  We all gathered around the laptop. From the corner of my eye I saw Joseph gently taking Kenntnis by the arm and leading him toward the elevator.

  The satellite feed from the compound showed that the opening to the distant sun was closed. The boiling clouds had been replaced with a normal-looking blue sky. And the gate itself was gone. Where Kenntnis’s tomb had stood, there were just shards of glass glittering on the red sand.

  “Well, yay us,” Weber said.

  People began to grin. Pamela laid a hand on my shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. But I was watching Cross, and he still looked grim.

  “What?” I asked the homeless god.

  “Yeah, it’s good news, but who knows how many of us came through? They’re going to have to be hunted down. And they’re all going to be working just as hard as they can to tear open the membranes between the universes,” Cross said. “So, what are you gonna do, paladin?”

  Everybody looked at me, and I realized that even though I’d freed Kenntnis, we still had big problems, and I was still in charge. It was a situation I’d never foreseen or planned for. I played for time.

  “I need some rest. I really haven’t slept in a couple of days. What say we regroup later.”

  There were nods, and people began to scatter. I touched Weber’s shoulder as he was starting for the door.

  “I took care of Rhiana,” I said.

  “Is that why Kenntnis came back?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you kill her?” he asked, and his face was very hard.

  “Worse.”

  Weber nodded, satisfied, and I watched him and Dagmar disappear into the elevator. Grenier headed toward the kitchen, Eddie was lost in his computer. Pamela suddenly put her arm around my waist and gave me a hug.

  “What was that for?” I asked.

  “You looked like you needed it.”

  “Just tired,” I temporized.

  She stepped back and looked at me. “You did the right thing. You gave Angela justice.”

  “No, I gave her vengeance. Don’t be mistaken about what I did.”

  “And now you’re feeling guilty,” Pamela said.

  I considered that, then slowly shook my head. “No, not guilty. Puzzled, uneasy. I don’t exactly know who I am anymore.”

 
; “And you have to figure out what to do about Lumina,” she said.

  “If I figure out the answer to the first question, the second will follow.” And I walked away.

  * * *

  I wandered through the building. I even dove into the pool and swam one lap, but anyplace in the Lumina building was too fraught. I got out, dried, dressed, and thought about going back to my apartment, but it had never really been a home. Just a place I slept and ate.

  There really wasn’t a question about where I’d go—I went back to headquarters. I refused a driver. I’d always wanted to try out the dark gray Lamborghini Murciélago in the underground lot. This was my chance. I accepted that Estevan would follow me—my life was constrained by security now—but I could at least be alone in a car and inside my own head.

  And what a car it was. The thunder from the powerful engine could be felt through my body, and the stick moved smoothly through the gears as I raced down Montgomery toward the freeway. Estevan was good; he stayed with me. I realized that Joseph needed to hire someone to replace Rudi. That made me remember Rudi, and how he died, and my eyes burned.

  My fault, my fault, my fault.

  No, not my fault. I told them to wait for me at the house. Get Angela and wait for me. But we hadn’t gotten Angela because she was dead. My fault, my fault, my fault.

  There are going to be casualties. Grenier’s words came back to me as I crested the ramp onto I-25 heading south.

  But not my people. I should have kept my people safe. And then I thought about the people I’d cut down at the compound. They were casualties, too, and somewhere people were going to weep for them. As for me, the tears were gone. My eyes burned and ached, but the opportunity for grief was once again past. Maybe grief was a luxury that you engaged in when you had time? In that case I was never going to have the opportunity. I had a feeling a shrink wouldn’t approve.

  Weber had reported that absenteeism was bad, and he wasn’t kidding. APD headquarters was a ghost town. But Lucile and Dolores, bless them, were at their places in dispatch. Weber wasn’t in his office. I was glad. I really didn’t want to talk to anybody.