by Siegel, Alex
"Maybe the situation will resolve itself," she said.
He shook his head.
Norbert walked into the room. "You got them off the roof!" he said with a grin. "Thank you, sir."
"We'll see how long it lasts," Aaron said.
"Ma'am, are you ready to spar?"
Marina nodded. "I just need fifteen minutes to warm up properly. I have a feeling this will be a serious fight."
"I want to watch," Aaron said, "but I have to send some information to Andrei first. Wait for me."
"Andrei?" Norbert said.
"Marina will explain." Aaron turned and headed towards his office.
* * *
Aaron watched with his arms crossed as Norbert and Marina faced each other from opposite ends of a blue workout mat. They wore white uniforms with gray belts. Both combatants were flushed from vigorous warm up exercises.
Tawni, Smythe, Nancy, and Kamal had come to see the show. Aaron expected Jack was also watching from the security booth.
"Go," Aaron said.
Marina shot forward. Norbert held back and assumed a defensive posture at first. She launched a flurry of violent attacks at his head, chest, and stomach. Her body contorted as she sought openings in his defense. She leapt, twisted, and spun like a demonic gymnast. He blocked most of the attacks with excellent technique and simply absorbed the rest. He was so much stronger that even when she landed a solid blow, he didn't budge. His balance was unshakable.
He showed great patience as he waited for her to slow down. She was in tremendous condition, but she couldn't put out maximum effort forever. It was just a matter of time before it was his turn.
Abruptly, she backed away. "You're not making this easy." She took deep breaths as she tried to get her wind back.
He charged forward. She dropped and tried to trip him. He leapt and somersaulted in the air to evade the technique. She tried to roll to her feet. He bounced, flew backwards, and struck her with his forearm. She was knocked to the mat, face down. He landed on top of her and pinned her down. He immediately locked up her arms before she could escape.
"Ugh! You win!" she yelled.
He stood up and helped her to her feet. Everybody in the room applauded.
Marina was bent over as she tried to recover. "You're getting better, and I'm growing older."
"Want to go again?" Norbert said eagerly.
"No."
Aaron walked over and pounded Norbert on the shoulder. "Good job."
"Thank you, sir." Norbert grinned. "That's the first time I've beaten her."
"Enjoy the accomplishment. You earned it. Now let's do our tabella studies while we wait for the twins."
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Aaron and Norbert sat side by side in the conference room. Aaron was wearing the elaborate gray robes of a Society commander. Norbert had also put on his formal robes, but his were plainer. When working with the tabella, dignified attire was appropriate.
Two books were lying open on the huge oak table. One was the first volume of the tabella. It contained the secret historical record of the Gray Spear Society spanning the years 500 AD to 504 AD. There were ten chapters, each describing six months of missions, investigations, and anecdotes. Aaron and Norbert were working on chapter two.
The second book was a Latin-English dictionary. All of the tabella were written entirely in Latin, even the modern volumes. A new book was published every five years, and when the next one came out, Aaron expected to see his own stories told in that ancient language.
"You've seen this word before, sir," Norbert said. "Ignis. It's the root of an English word with a similar meaning."
Aaron rubbed his temples. "Ignis. Ignite. Fire."
"Correct."
Aaron wrote the word on a piece of paper. He was struggling through the process of translating a sentence to English. He and Norbert were taking turns doing one sentence at a time. Norbert had had real instruction in Latin during his years as a monk, so his turns were much quicker.
Aaron read the next word. "Petimus."
"I'll give you a clue," Norbert said. "It's a third conjugation."
Aaron grunted with annoyance. He was slowly acquiring the basic vocabulary of Latin, but conjugation was his nemesis. He still didn't understand deponent verbs or the imperfect subjunctive mood. Every rule had a long list of exceptions. The language seemed designed to cause madness.
"Let's see. Imus is the first person plural suffix of the, uh, present active..."
"Indicative," Norbert said.
"And the root word is petō, which means to seek."
"Or to attack."
Aaron wrote down "we attack."
Marina entered the conference room and sat across from them. "Having fun, guys?"
"Feel free to join the party," he said.
"I wouldn't want to slow you down."
"Don't worry about that. Besides, as a commander, it's your obligation to study the tabella. You know what they say. If you read all the books, you'll understand God."
"I've heard that," she said. "Unfortunately, the San Francisco cell lost its tabella when the headquarters was overrun. They won't be replaced until we move into our new permanent facility, so I'm afraid my studies will have to wait for quite a while." She pouted.
He raised his eyebrows. "Is that the only issue? I'll loan you a volume or two so you can get started right away. There's no need to wait."
"Oh, I couldn't take one of your tabella back with me on a commercial flight. That would be a huge lapse in security."
"Then I'll send one by special courier. Those guys love delivering important documents. In fact, I'll make the arrangements tonight. You can have the last volume. Some of your early missions might appear in it. Don't you want to see your name in print?"
Aaron and Marina stared at each other for a moment.
"That would be lovely," she said in an unhappy tone. "Thank you."
"My pleasure." He smiled.
Bethany walked into the conference room with a piece of paper in her hands. "We have a lead, sir."
Aaron turned to her. "What is it?"
"A shipment of three Super Double Monkey machines will be delivered tomorrow morning to Aladdin's Magic Casino. You should be able to intercept it. All the details are here." She handed over the paper.
"Excellent."
"May we go back up to the roof, sir?" she asked in her soft, polite voice.
His shoulders sagged. "Yes. That was the deal."
She left.
Norbert checked his watch. "You kept them down here for an hour, sir."
"Not long enough." Aaron sighed.
Norbert's face drooped with sadness. He loved the twins, and their recent misbehavior was torture for him.
Aaron looked at Marina. "Seriously, did you come to learn some Latin?"
"I came because I'm annoyed," she said. "The tabella will be here for the rest of your life. I'm here for two days. Pay attention to me, not those books."
"That's fair. What do you want to do?"
"Sex, a nice dinner, and more sex, in that order."
He snorted. "Sheryl will be here at eight."
"That gives us plenty of time." She walked around the table and grabbed his hand. "Come on. Seeing you in those handsome robes is arousing me."
"Yes, ma'am."
* * *
"Enjoy, sir," the waiter said.
He placed a twenty-ounce steak in front of Aaron. A few small potatoes and asparagus spears were shoved to the edge of the plate, but they were just for show. The meat was the meal.
Marina received a "petite" fourteen-ounce steak. That left more room on her plate for decorative but useless side dishes.
She immediately sliced off a chunk of meat and shoved it into her mouth. "Mmm. You can't get this in San Francisco." Her eyes rolled back.
"But they have great food there," Aaron said.
"Every kind of ethnic food under the sun. There must be a thousand Asian restaurants. But if
you just want a politically incorrect slab of beef, you're out of luck."
He dug into his own steak. The meat was so tender and juicy he could almost cut it with a fork. As he chewed, he looked around the restaurant. At this early hour, most of the tables were empty. Subdued, indirect lighting created a sultry atmosphere. Yellows and browns dominated the color palette. The dining room was open to the kitchen, and he could see the chefs in black aprons preparing for the evening service. The aroma of charred meat permeated the air.
"How are things in San Francisco?"
"Not bad," she said. "Still short-handed. I'm looking for a legionnaire and a security chief. It's a great group though. Hanley in particular is turning into a star performer. Even my assistants are wonderful, particularly my hackers. They're not in the same class as the twins, of course, but they get the job done."
He nodded. "I'm worried about the twins."
"I'm not. God won't let them fail. This project is too important to Him."
Aaron chewed his steak as he considered that statement. Not all the implications were pleasant.
"Wesley had something to say about that before he left. If the twins are successful, there will be changes to the Society. Big changes."
"Was he more specific?" Marina said.
"His prophesies never are. I'm thinking you may never get a chance to move into your fancy new headquarters."
"That's a depressing thought."
Aaron shrugged. "Maybe the changes will be positive. We could be really happy with the way things turn out."
"Or we could lose our jobs. If this universal firewall thing is improved enough, the Lord won't need us anymore."
"That's not a terrible outcome. There will be less death and suffering in the world. Mankind will prosper as God intended."
"But what will we do?" she said.
"We can marry and settle down like a regular couple. I know! We could start a detective agency together."
"Sounds boring."
He nodded and sighed.
"At least our lives would be less stressful," she said. "Every time the phone rings, I think it's going to be Ethel with bad news about you. I live in fear."
"Me, too. I always wonder if you're in trouble and need my help. It feels like we're a million miles apart. Sometimes it's tough to go to sleep at night."
She wiped her eyes.
"Boring isn't so bad," he said.
"I guess it isn't. Let's finish eating and get out of here. I'm ready for more sex. I don't want to waste a minute of our time together."
* * *
Sheryl drove into the parking lot of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. She looked up at the smooth, brown face of the tall building. Lamps cast light on just the lowest floors, and the upper section was almost as dark as the night sky. What the hell am I doing here?
Curiosity had driven her to come even more than money. She had spent all day obsessing about Aaron and the mysteries that shrouded him. She couldn't stop thinking about his acid-spitting trick. She intended to figure out his secrets, one way or another. She hated not knowing how an illusion worked, and that had been a great one. Making a million dollars appear out of thin air hadn't been bad, either.
Sheryl parked close to the front door. She got out of her small, red rental car, went around to the trunk, and opened it. With a grunt, she lifted out a rolling footlocker. It was packed with an assortment of basic tricks which she could perform without much rehearsal. There hadn't been time to put together an elaborate show.
She pulled the footlocker into the lobby of the hotel. It was a very nice space. A hanging water sculpture created an aesthetic that distinguished it from other lobbies. A black and gold color scheme was tasteful and opulent.
The doorman wore a black suit and a yellow tie. "You must be the performer," he said. "They're waiting for you in the Grand Ballroom. Take a left and go all the way down the hall, please."
Sheryl raised her eyebrows in surprise.
She followed the directions. She spent her life in hotels, and she could tell this was an expensive one. The brass fixtures looked like real metal instead of plastic. The carpeting was soft and padded instead of the cheap, thin stuff found in most hotels.
She opened the stained glass doors of the ballroom and went inside. Considering how much she was being paid, she expected a big audience. Instead, the cavernous room was almost empty. Only nine people sat on chairs arranged in a semi-circle. Aaron and his red-haired girlfriend were in the center of the small group.
"This is it?" Sheryl said.
Aaron nodded. "Yes. You're in the right spot. Let me introduce you to my associates. Jack, Nancy, Kamal, Marina, Bethany, Leanna, Norbert, and Tawni."
Sheryl looked at the odd mixture of faces. Bethany and Leanna were identical twins, and their expressions were strangely blank. One girl wore costume jewelry made to look like a diamond necklace with an oversized pendent. Norbert was as massively muscular as Aaron. Jack also looked like a tough guy, although he was more compact. Kamal was obviously from India.
Sheryl's attention was drawn to Tawni. She was a tall, beautiful, athletic woman. Dark skin and sharply defined features made her elegant and exotic. Sheryl could easily imagine Tawni as the queen of an African nation.
"Begin your show," Aaron said. "We're eager to see what you can do."
Sheryl laid her footlocker on the floor. "You're serious? You paid me a million dollars to perform in front of your friends?"
"That's right. I'll also pay for your hotel room tonight."
She furrowed her brow. "You realize this won't even be my best performance. There won't be any grand illusions. I threw together this show on short notice."
"It will be fine. Begin." He sounded impatient.
"I need a table."
"Norbert, get a table, please."
Norbert jumped up and rushed out of the room.
Sheryl opened her footlocker and examined the contents. She decided to start with some rope tricks. They were easy and a good way to assess the mood of her audience. She could already tell it was a thoughtful, quiet group.
A minute later, Norbert returned with a circular, black table. It looked heavy, but he carried it effortlessly. He placed it in front of her.
She took a six-foot piece of rope out of the footlocker. It had two slip knots tied near the ends. A moveable knot made from another small piece was also at the right end. She draped the rope over her hands so all the knots were hidden from the audience.
"To start with," she said, "I'll show you how to tie three knots at one time."
She made a looping motion to tie a new knot in the center of the rope. She drew her hands apart quickly, exposing the two slip knots. To the audience, it looked like three knots had appeared at once.
"I can untie them just as easily."
She blew on one of the slip knots and gave the rope a gentle pull. The knot popped loose and vanished. She blew on the middle knot, but it didn't release because it was the real one.
She smiled apologetically. "Sometimes, they're stubborn."
She untied that knot the normal way.
"Let's see if this one behaves better."
She blew on the second slip knot and caused it to release. At the same time, she pulled the moveable knot to the center of the rope but kept it concealed with her hand.
"And finally," she said, "when I'm in a hurry, I use my patented whip tie."
She snapped the rope in the air, grabbed the ends, and pulled it taut. The moveable knot was now visible.
She waited for applause but heard only a few polite claps. It was a depressing sound.
Aaron stood up and walked around behind her. "Do it again."
"Excuse me?"
"I want to see the trick from this side."
Sheryl shook her head. "I only do a trick once. Please, sit down and let me continue the show."
He stood in place with his arms crossed. The room became very quiet. She remembered he was remarkably skilled with a gun, although he didn
't appear armed at the moment.
"Besides," she added, "the trick requires preparation."
"I'll wait."
She looked at the others and saw no sympathy. She was on her own.
"I'll break the rules just this once," she said.
Sheryl retied the slip knots in full view of everybody. It wasn't a special trick, anyway. She didn't feel bad about revealing the secret.
She repeated the performance without bothering with patter. She simply rushed through the motions silently.
"Now let me try," Aaron said.
Sheryl glared at him. "Are you serious?"
His handsome face had an intense, brooding expression. Overgrown eyebrows cast shadows over eyes that stared at her without blinking.
She gave the rope to him.
He duplicated the trick with a surprisingly deft touch. Magic seemed to come naturally to him.
He sat down. "You may continue."
"Thank you." She sniffed.
She took a long, thin piece of rope out of her footlocker. She showed it to the audience to prove it had no knots this time, and indeed, there were none. She began to coil the rope around the fingers of her left hand. This action seemed innocent, but it was the heart of the trick. She was actually going back and forth and bending her fingers in a special way to tangle the rope. She laid the coil down on the table, and it still appeared normal.
"This is a variation of the whip tie," she said, "except this time I'll do ten knots at once."
She grabbed the end of the rope and gave it a hard jerk. The tangles tightened and ten knots formed instantly. She held up the rope so everybody could inspect her work.
Marina jumped up. "I want to try that." She walked around the table.
"I'm not even done with the trick," Sheryl said.
Marina just stood with an eager expression.
"Please, I'm trying to put on a professional show. I was paid a million dollars to entertain you."
"I don't care."
Marina's lovely green eyes held a disturbing intensity. There was no compassion in them. Her peculiar perfume made Sheryl think of a graveyard for some reason.
Sheryl backed away. "I didn't sign up for this. I came here to perform, not unveil my secrets. This isn't a magic class."
