The Sin of Moloch

by Andrew Gordinier

  His companion walked half a pace behind and to the right, seemed much more relaxed and at ease than the other man. He was tall, comfortably over six feet, had dark hair and skin with a tanned olive complexion to it. The man was dressed more for comfort than fashion, business casual was the best description. There was not a hair out of place on him. As they approached, his dark eyes flitted across everyone in the lobby once, and he never gave them a second look when his gaze settled on John, their eyes met. It was a moment that John would not forget. Even across the lobby, John could see there was nothing that he could call human in those eyes. He saw only the cold gaze of a predator who knew his prey had no way of defending themselves from him.

  “You must be Conrad.” Said the thin man as he offered his hand to Conrad.

  “I am, and you must be Mr. Lacharte, a pleasure.” Conrad stood and shook the man’s hand.

  “I’m sorry that I could not attend the first meeting as we had planned, but Mr. Fletcher filled me in.” Mr. Lacharte smiled broadly, John revised his view of the man, he was not sharp, he was a serpent.

  “That’s quite alright, these things happen. Mr. Lacharte, this Leonard, he has been keeping the minutes of these events.” Both gentlemen shook hands. “This young man is John Carter-“

  “We have heard a great deal about you, Mr. Carter.” Lacharte smiled and offered his hand to John.

  “Really?” Said John shaking the man's hand.

  “Yes, Veronica had been an American favorite among many of the European Regents. Extensive business dealings with some of them. Everyone was surprised to hear of her… retirement. Lacharte's smile was shallow and cold. John withdrew his hand calmly and met Lacharte's gaze, he had things to say to the man, but this was about something much bigger than him. He only hoped that Lacharte felt the same way.

  “The young lady was an adorable slut that got in everyone’s way.” Said the other man with a laugh. Lacharte's head snapped towards him, and he opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself short.

  “We are allowed a difference of opinion, Censor Segura.” Said Lacharte in an even tone.

  “Excellent Then she was a slut and a menace, Mr. Carter saved us the trouble of dealing with her. He also saved you from continuing to on your wife, perhaps you should thank him?” He offered John a manicured hand that had clearly seen hard labor, John shook it. “Since Mr. Lacharte won't introduce me, I’m Solomon Segura. You may call me Censor Segura.” He leaned in and shook the hands of everyone, including Eric.

  “Before we begin, is it custom in the states to have the hired guns around at all times?” Asked Lacharte looking pointedly at Eric.

  “Eric is not a ‘hired gun,’ he is in charge of the security for this event and has proven himself invaluable in that capacity.” Said Conrad with a matter of fact tone.

  “He is not a mage?” Lacharte said with a natural smile.

  “I’m not a mage.” Said Eric evenly. “But, you can ask how many I’ve killed any time you like.”

  “I’ve heard of you. You were there during that unpleasantness with Noreiaga.” Said Segura with admiration. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, me and Snake Plissken get that a lot,” Eric answered while continuing to watch the lobby.

  “I don’t get it.” John mumbled.

  “I’ll explain it to you later, my boy.” Said Conrad as he concealed a smile. “The others will be waiting for us upstairs, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if we could settle down, please.” Leonard stood at the podium and addressed the gathered crowd. To John, there was an air of comfortable familiarity about the room. There were still people who avoided each other, but for the most part, people felt comfortable enough to talk to each other. There was enough of this small talk and careful laughter to make him feel hopeful and to frustrate Leonard. “Ladies and gentlemen! Please, we have a lot to get through tonight.” Lacking a gavel, Leonard knocked on the podium as he spoke, unwittingly starting a tradition.

  The room settled down slowly, and people took their seats. No one had assigned seats, but people predictably drifted to the same places as they had been in the first day. If people had noticed Lacharte or Solomon, they said nothing. John looked at Conrad and wondered why he was letting these people address everyone, in some sense, they had too. But, there was no reason that they had to be polite or accommodating to these people. And, now that John had met them, he felt he had every reason not to be kind to them or accommodating to them.

  “Thank you, everyone.” Leonard paused for a moment before launching into the matters at hand. “We are gathered here to ratify our constitution-“ There was mild but heartfelt applause.

  “Does this mean we can go home now?” Shouted someone in the back playfully, and even Leonard laughed gently.

  “First, we have a couple of guests from Europe that has asked to address this congress on behalf of the European Conclave. This is Emissary Arridano Lacharte, we are extending him this courtesy as a gesture of friendship and express our sincerity that we wish to maintain good relations. Mr. Lacharte?” Leonard stepped away from the podium, and Arridano stood up and approached it with a stately air.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I understand the gravity of this vote, the importance of it is clear, and it has far-reaching implications that will be felt around the world. We have for millennia shared a common form of government and a common history, I can understand how that history would seem brutal by modern standards. Those ways have served us well for thousands of years and helped to ensure that the most powerful were leaders, as they should. It has also guaranteed that the senselessness of large scale war has been avoided among mages. We have seen the folly that a world war brings even when it is perpetrated by the unenlightened, imagine the horror of a global war among mages. This is the risk that you are taking with this vote, perhaps not immediately or intentionally. But, it is a risk that I think you are taking blindly.” Arridano paused and surveyed the crowd, making uncomfortable eye contact with as many people as he could. “Should you ratify this Constitution, such as it is, I am empowered to inform you that there will be immediate economic consequences. Accounts will be frozen, assets seized, properties confiscated, and contracts canceled. These will affect you directly and immediately.”

  John looked over at Conrad and tried to get his attention. They had to stop this fool, get him away from the podium, and shut him up. He was going to unravel everything that had done and worked so hard for. Conrad was not looking at John though, he was taking notes on a scrap of paper with a gentle smile on his face. John glanced at Eric, who returned his gaze and nodded as he held up a hand. There was a plan then, something in the works, John returned his attention to Arridano and hoped that the plan was a good one.

  “As you may or may not be aware, I have Censor Solomon with me.” Arridano paused momentarily and allowed himself to watch from his perch as people struggled with their discomfort. “We take this matter very seriously, we will not allow you to cause friction and sow discontentment. Censor Solomon is here to make sure that you get the message. Should you, in your wisdom, give up this folly. We will establish new territories and appoint regents, we have been granted wide latitude in dealing with this issue. So I would encourage you to keep that in mind when voting today and considering what is best for your future.” Without further comment, Arridano walked away from the podium. The tension in the room was thick, and John wondered how many people were glancing around for support or to make sure they knew where the exits were.

  Conrad stood and calmly walked to the podium, hung his cane on the side of it, and made a point of looking over the notes he had taken. He looked old and tired; to John, he did not look like the brave leader of a revolution.

  “So you see, my friends, the old ways of blood and murder are with us still.” Conrad spoke softly and did not lookup. “We had agreed to let Mr. Lacharte speak here today in good faith, as a measure of hospitality and respect. He has not ret
urned the kindness. Conrad looked up at the mages gathered around him, with glaring eyes and his lips pressed together tightly. “Nor has he offered a rational defense or reason for us to return to those ways. He has only brought fear and disrespect for anything decent and right. These are men, no different from you or me, yet many of you tremble in horror at the mere utterance of the word ‘Censor.’ Well, there are two of them here in the states now.”

  “Ask yourself why they would need two?” Conrad paused dramatically. “What is this wide latitude that they having in dealing with this issue of our freedom? That’s right, freedom. We have not said that word here much but it underlies everything we have been talking about and working for. Freedom to live peacefully, with dignity, without fear.” Conrad was almost shouting now and pounded the podium as he spoke of freedom. “They know what they are doing coming here today, know what they are doing approaching us before we have elected leaders and laws. They always have known how to use fear and threats to get what they want. Some of you are considering things, some of you are thinking your best bet is to jump ship now and hope they make you a regent. You are hoping that if you help them, they won’t purge you and your family, and you are playing into their hands. They are hoping that there will be enough of you to do their dirty work for them, that they won’t have to start hunting us or declare some hellish war. They are hoping that enough of you will be scared enough that we will hunt each other and keep their hands clean.” Conrad stepped away from the podium without his cane, he stood tall and straight. Then he addressed the gathered mages one last time. “Some of you may not know, many of you remember though, Owen (the former Regent of Chicago), and I tried this once before. It cost us. It cost us dearly. They even killed my wife in cold blood. So think of your families, think of your children and grandchildren, do you want them to live under that kind of fear? Are you unwilling to show the courage now, or resign them to danger and fear? History is made in moments like this, and I have chosen where I stand, now you must make your own choices.” Conrad picked up his cane and walked to his chair without using it.

  John, like many others in the room, was stunned. He had not known about Conrad’s wife, it had fallen into that blind spot of history that no one talked about. If they did, they had to confront the prices everyone paid and the losses they suffered in their own lives, never mind the pain of those sitting next to them. The spell of silence had been broken, by Leonard speaking of his mother, and Conrad’s mention of his wife. Around the room, mages were looking at each other in fearful silence, each thinking of their loved ones and what might lie ahead. It was a heavy silence that dripped slowly into the room, flooding it with growing anxiety and mistrust.

  In the back of the room an older woman stood up, John recognized her from the conclave in Saint Charles, where Veronica demanded the right to a duel. She moved slowly to the front of the room, every eye watched her as she pushed against the tide of the silence filling the room. Finally, she stood at the podium and looked at the crowed through thick glasses with an impenetrable expression.

  “I’m damn old. Old enough to remember a lot of wars, I’ve sanctioned many duels and called on Censors more than I care to admit. I chose to be the last mage in my family, I chose to never teach another soul what I know. People are vile and greedy things, I’ve not met more than a few that are worth the shoes they stand in, and most of ya’ are wearing damn cheap shoes. No matter how this ends, no matter what you pick, people are gonna die. If these reptiles have their ways, a lot of ordinary people are gonna get killed too, that writing was on the wall a long time ago.” She paused and looked around the room before speaking again. “I’m fighting this, I want the killing to end, I want to be proud to call myself a mage. I want to do the world some good before I die. Conrad, I’m with you.” Without waiting for a reaction, the old woman stepped down and walked back to her seat. She was oblivious to the murmurs and whispers that now splashed and struggled against the silence of the room.

  “I’m voting for our constitution.” Said a youngish man in an ill-fitting suit. He stood up and held his ground, others stood up, then more and more stood. Some declaring with bold statements that they wanted to remain free, others were silent, but no less determined. A few remained seated, scattered about the room, unwilling to look up or face the others.

  “Mr. Lacharte, I believe you have your response.” Said Conrad with pride.

  Arridano smiled back at Conrad and got up without a word. Solomon stood up and looked around with a smile and chuckled as he turned his back and left the room slowly.

  John teleported home, and almost immediately, his phone started ringing, displaying Eric's number.

  “Hello?” John was in a good mood after the meeting, and it crept into his voice.

  “It’s Eric. Listen, you left before I got a chance to talk to you.”

  “Sorry, it’s been a long week.”

  “I know, but this is important. I finally tracked down what the other Censor was doing here. It had nothing to do with the meeting. He was looking for your buddy Finley in Chicago.”

  “Conrad told me a while back.”

  “Yeah, well I just found out that Finely was following around some girl-“

  “Radha?”

  “No, some computer geek named Deanna Graham. I know you would never cheat on Radha, so is she helping you with your homework, or is she working for you?” Eric fired the loaded question point-blank.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s she working on, John?” Eric’s voice became shadowed.

  “A program that looks for new patterns and tests them out. I needed help in making it work. I’ve been careful.”

  “Careful? John, you are the least careful person I know! If Finley figured out what she was working on, then so did the Censor.”

  “There are no laws against research, and I stopped Deanna from seeing anything dangerous. Never even told her about magic.”

  “How close was it to working?”

  “I’m not sure. It keeps crashing, but it’s spitting out information that looks like M Theory and all kinds of physics madness mixed with some other strange stuff.”

  “I don’t give a damn if it was giving you the lotto numbers a month in advance! Do you have any idea how many people would want that?”

  “I know.” John sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his shoes.

  “Look, I gotta tell Conrad about this, it changes things.” Eric paused. “Grab the girl, and bring her to New York.”

  “Eric, what are you gonna do?”

  “Put the whole thing in a dark corner till we can deal with it reasonably. That means getting it away from the Censors and Finley.”

  “What do I tell Deanna?”

  “I don’t care.” Eric hung up.

  John stood up, feeling every bit a scolded child as he called Deanna. There was no answer. John looked at the time, it was still early enough that she should be awake. There was no way she would be at the corner office, but he should stop there and see if there were any copies of the program hidden there. He scolded himself for not thinking of it sooner. John teleported to an empty stairwell at the back of the building and regretted it immediately.

  The lights were out, the fire alarm was going off, and John could smell smoke. John grabbed the door handle to the stairwell and burned himself on the hot metal. John shook his hand and tried not to feel stupid for not looking at the door first to see if it was hot. Once he did, he was happy to have just a burned hand. The door was hot enough that the fire on the other side had to be an inferno. Looking at the pattern of the door, it was clear it wasn’t going to hold back the fire much longer. John teleported to a nearby rooftop to see how bad it was.

  John immediately realized that he was lucky to be alive. Flames were rolling out of the windows and throwing angry black smoke at Chicago’s skyline. John vowed to never teleport without looking first, had he gone straight to her desk he might have been hurt or killed. Watching the Chicago Fire Department a
rrive at the blaze, John had no illusions. This was not an accident or anything other than arson. John prepared to teleport to Deanna’s apartment building, cautiously looking ahead along the thread to make sure the hallway was empty first.

  “Deanna!” John knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal the devastation of a trashed apartment. Stepping in, John stayed alert and examined the patterns around him. There was no sign of careless magic or anything to say how long ago this happened. Deanna’s computers were gone, her books thrown around the room, and it looked as much as someone had been destroying things as they were searching through them. John knew this was his fault for getting her involved, what he didn’t know was how to fix it, or what had happened. John searched carefully, looking for anything but found nothing at all, he decided he was going to need help. John called Eric, but the call went straight to voicemail.

  “Eric, it’s John. Deanna is gone, her place has been trashed, and someone burned down the computer lab at school. I’m gonna get the copies I have and come to New York. I need your help with this, I’m not a detective.” John hung up and teleported to the warehouse, breaking his new promise to look first. As if to teach him a lesson, he arrived just in time to be knocked flat on his back by a massive explosion.

  John rolled over and wished he had been knocked unconscious, he ached all over and was pretty sure he was deaf in one ear now. Coughing, he pulled himself up and looked through the dust and smoke to see Finley reaching into what was left of his floor safe. John didn’t say anything and didn’t hesitate, he channeled a lightning bolt into Finley’s chest. Finley screamed as he was thrown backward, a thin ribbon of fire and smoke following him. John walked towards him carefully.

  “Did you have to ruin my coat! That was my favorite coat.” Finley said as he staggered to his feet, still clutching something from John’s safe in one hand. John didn’t say anything, he hit Finley with another lightning bolt, this one was big enough to power Chicago for a couple of decades. It rolled harmlessly around Finley, never getting close to him. “Not in a mood to talk, John?”