“I feel a little bad,” Alice said. “Seeing me again must have really thrown you.”
“Yes and no. I was confused and dismayed, certainly. My first assumption turned out to be the truth of the matter, though I admit to having rejected the possibility as soon as it occurred to me.”
“Oh? What was your first impression?”
“I thought that you were a witch, Alice. As I would discover not long after, I was absolutely right.”
Alice let her chopsticks clatter onto the bar. She snatched her drink and threw it back.
“I really need you to stop doing that,” Alice complained, pale as the crab meat pinched between Jacob’s chopsticks. “I’m not even going to be able to walk if you keep it up.”
***
Grigori watched a movie about a woman in love with an imprisoned merman.
It was fine, but he didn’t think it was quite as good as people said.
***
“You must have known.”
Alice held on tightly to her recently refilled glass with both hands and said nothing.
“You must have at least suspected,” Jacob continued, signaling the bartender. “You do not age, Alice, and your capabilities are utterly unique. Have you ever met another Operator who did not die? Have you ever seen a protocol that even vaguely resembles your own ability to traverse the shadows?”
“You’re not the first person to say something like that to me recently.”
“Who else?”
“I forget,” Alice said, voice full of melancholy. “Isn’t that always the story?”
“Whoever told you that, I’m sure it was for their own reasons. I suppose I am also motivated by self-interest,” Jacob mused, picking at a small pile of ginger. “In my own defense, the only thing I want is for you to remember yourself. I’ve lived more years than I care to remember, and I have yet to meet anyone who burned so brightly.”
“Flattery,” Alice said. “Not sure I’m in the mood for flattery.”
“The failing is mine, then. What are you in the mood for?”
“A lot of things, but I’ll start with answers. Are you really the Founder?”
“In a sense. I was the leader of a group that colonized Central, the first of what are now called the ‘Great Families’. I was hardly the first to discover Central. Discounting who or whatever built the city itself, as well as poor Mr. Aikawa and his associates, we found signs of accidental discovery from the ancient Egyptian and Nubian kingdoms, as well as the odd Incan artifact here and there, and we did not look very hard. I was elected Director, and in due course I appointed the first Board and convened the first meeting of the Assembly. The Hegemony, as a matter of fact, was simply the ruling faction during the early years.”
“I don’t care about politics.”
“You have lived through too much to make such absurd statements,” Jacob said, with unexpected seriousness. “Politics is the science of control and everything falls within its purview.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” Alice said, snapping one of her chopsticks in half. “I’m not in the mood.”
“There’s that fire that I’ve missed,” Jacob said, grinning. “I am at your service, my lady. What do you want to know?”
“If you were in charge from the start, and you’ve been around this whole time, what the fuck have you been doing? Seems like you could have been more helpful.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, not long after we finally had Central up and running smoothly, an upstart leader of a minor cartel that I had foolishly championed coordinated a successful coup. I was removed from power, then Audited and exiled within a few weeks.”
“So, you were here the whole time, just hanging out by the pool?”
“I wish that were the case.” Jacob smiled, but Alice noticed a slight tremble in the muscle beside his right eye as he spoke. “I was partnered with ambitious and ruthless men, like myself. There was a coup. I was caught quite by surprise, I’m ashamed to say. I was taken to the Far Shores and cast into the Sea of Ether. As I did to poor Mr. Aikawa, so was done to me.”
Alice’s eyes widened.
“I thought that was…isn’t prolonged exposure to the Ether fatal?”
“I do not die,” Jacob reminded her gently. “I was poisoned by the environment, true, my body endlessly damaged by contact with the Ether. I starved and thirsted and suffered injury. I survived nonetheless, thanks to my protocol.”
“Bummer,” Alice said, without a shred of sympathy. “How long were you stuck out there?”
“Decades,” Jacob said, his hollow smile hinting at what those decades had been like. “Eighty years.”
“That’s a long time,” Alice remarked pitilessly. “How’d you get out?”
“That is a very long story…”
“I’ve got time. All night.”
“That is not long enough, I’m afraid.”
“Give me the Cliff Notes version.”
Jacob sighed, and then laughed.
“Very well. How to say it?” He considered. “The Black Sun has a long memory, I suppose. As a minority faction, they naturally supported the rebellion. Their scientists discovered me floating in the Ether quite by accident, and apparently the leadership of the Black Sun decided that a debt was owed to me, incurred by their treachery. I was salvaged to rectify what they saw as an affront to their honor. They funded my recovery – I was quite mad by that point, apart from my physical condition – and helped me establish myself after that. In return, I provided Lord Martynova with a variety of useful information in the years that followed, which he in turn used to propel the Black Sun into ascendance. No one does anything for free, after all.”
“Huh. So, Ana’s dad rescued you?”
“Josef? Yes, technically, though I believe it was his wife who…”
“Never mind. So, you’ve been back in the world for how long?”
“Eight years or so.”
“You’ve done well for yourself,” Alice said dryly. “The hotel’s nice.”
“I agree,” Jacob said, smiling ruefully. “I have not left the grounds in six years, after all.”
“What?” Alice laughed. “It’s not that nice.”
“Allow me to give you a tour of the penthouse level. I believe that it might change your mind.”
“That’s forward,” Alice said. “Pretty bold for a guy who doesn’t go outside. What’s the deal with that?”
“This hotel was specially constructed. The materials and the geometry preclude any sort of psychic intrusion, masking my Etheric Signature so completely that even the precognitive pools are unaware of my presence. I built it in secret, to elude the Black Sun and their surveillance network. I appreciated the rescue, of course, but I had no intention of serving Josef Martynova a moment longer than was necessary. The hotel became my refuge, and it has served me well in that regard. If I were I to leave, my presence would be noticed immediately in Moscow and in Central.” Jacob frowned. “There is also the small matter of the crippling agoraphobia by which I have been afflicted since my time in the Ether. I manage well enough at night, but during the day…” Jacob shook his head. “There is far too much sky.”
“That’s no way to live. Even if the hotel is as nice as you say.”
“My suite here occupies the entirety of the top two floors, and includes a private sauna and a hot tub that could double as a lap pool. Not to mention the indoor lap pool, and the gym, and the solarium and garden,” Jacob said. “My private chef has two Michelin stars to his credit and an unlimited budget. I keep a barber, a physical trainer, a manicurist, and a pair of Swiss-trained masseuses on retainer at all times.”
“I mean, yeah,” Alice muttered. “That’s nice and all, but…”
“There is also an infinity pool on the roof, rather larger than Olympic standard, with a built-in wet bar and an unrivaled view of Las Vegas, reserved entirely for my private use.”
Alice went pale.
“Wow. That’s…”
&nbs
p; “If you dive beneath the water, you can look out on Las Vegas through a submerged window.” Jacob looked just a tiny bit discomfited. “The view is slightly obstructed by the neighboring hotel, but it is fantastic, I assure you.”
“You are right to never go outside,” Alice said, grabbing Jacob’s hand. “Take me upstairs.”
Jacob offered her his arm. Alice took it, a little wobbly in her new shoes.
“This hotel has several women’s shops, as well as a private tailor,” Jacob said, leading her past a pair of security guards to a private elevator, a stainless-steel cylinder that reminded Alice of an unlabeled beer can. “Shall I arrange for a selection of swimwear?”
“I’m super drunk, and in exactly the right mood to be pampered by a rich guy with a fancy hotel,” Alice said. “I don’t think I’ll need a swimsuit.”
The elevator took them up forever.
There was only a single corridor on the top floor, and only one door, right in the middle of it.
No less than three different staff were situated between the elevator and the door to the suite, and Alice found every door held politely open for her. Jacob stopped to make a few requests of the final staffer, a somber man in a suit almost as nice as the one Jacob wore. He spoke to his employee with a warm confidence that she liked.
She walked into the suite while they talked, kicking off her heels by the door.
The entry was large enough to park a few cars, but the living area it led to was simply enormous. She passed at least six different couches and chaise lounges on her way to the broad plate glass windows that constituted each exterior wall.
Alice stopped, dead in her tracks, and then slowly turned in place.
“That is a lot of view,” Alice murmured. “You weren’t kidding.”
“I would never dream of kidding you,” Jacob said, closing the door behind them, and tossing his coat over the arm of a nearby chair. “Do you want a drink?”
Alice nodded, still preoccupied by her surroundings.
The suite was several times bigger than any hotel or apartment she had ever been in, with acres of white carpet and enough cherry wood flooring for a basketball court. A sleek modern bar capable of accommodating a large party separated the kitchen from the living area, meters of spotless marble counter punctuated with Sub-Zero appliances, a Viking range, and an Italian ceramic backsplash.
Alice wandered through the kitchen while Jacob turned on lights, brushing her hands across the stainless-steel refrigerator, the handles of the Japanese cutlery, the line of brass pots that hung from the cabinets. Classical music played quietly from hidden speakers, and a flat screen the size of a mural hung on one wall. Opposite the television, on the other wall, a similarly sized painting hung.
Alice was sure she knew the artist responsible but could not recall the name.
Jacob came up behind her, a flute of champagne in either hand.
“I believe you’ll enjoy this vintage,” he said, offering her a glass. “You were fond of it when it was new, after all.”
She drank and smiled, wishing it were a little bit sweeter.
“Do you want to see the pool?”
“Yes,” she said, setting the empty flute on a glass table.
The roof was accessed by an automated sliding glass door. The air outside was warm, the heat of the day lingering, and the air just as desiccated as that processed by the hotel’s air conditioning system. The lights of the Strip outshone the desert stars, a dazzling confusion of illuminated motion.
Jacob led her past an enclosed gym and sauna, and then gestured proudly at the pool.
Alice thought that it was something to be proud of, long enough for lap swimming with an enormous shallow area situated at the near end, and glass-walled at the deeper opposite side, millions of liters of saltwater gleaming like a sapphire.
“Do you still want to swim?”
Alice nodded, and then beckoned to Jacob.
“You come here, first.”
She smiled drunkenly, and he hurried over like a dog to dinner.
Alice pulled Jacob close, and his expression was charmingly nervous. She almost felt bad, putting her knife to his throat.
“Oh, Alice,” he said sadly. “This is hardly needed.”
“I’ll decide what is needed,” she said, pressing the sharpened edge of the purloined kitchen knife to his gullet. “Who are you, really?”
“Just who I’ve said. Jacob Havel, hotelier and investor.”
“And the Founder,” Alice added. “Supposedly.”
“Yes, and that, too,” Jacob agreed. “Alice, please, you don’t need to…”
“Your protocol,” Alice said. “You can’t die. Right?”
“That’s it, more or less.”
“You were tossed into the Ether, and then Josef Martynova dug you back out, and then you ended up here, running a casino.”
“Yes.”
“Not at all involved with Central or the cartels.”
“Yes. Aside from the occasional light blackmail from Josef.”
“Then, just by chance, tonight I come wandering into your casino,” Alice said, grinning at him. “Which just happens to be around the corner from where Anastasia likes to stay.”
“That’s not a coincidence,” Jacob objected. “I have partnered in several investments with the Martynova family, and helped broker the purchase of that very…”
“Save it, I remember. It still works out pretty well for you.”
“I had thought so,” Jacob said, his eyes flicking down to the knife at his throat. “Up until very recently.”
“Your protocol. Explain it to me. Are you like the Anathema? Just a cloud of nanites shaped like a person?”
“The Anathema are a flawed proposition, based on a fundamental misunderstanding of identity. A copy of something may be identical in every sense to the original, but that does not make them the same thing. They are still two separate items, with discrete futures and fortunes.”
“I’m not sure that I…”
“The Anathema give up their lives to create a copy of themselves, with a limited sort of immortality, assuming they will awaken into the copy, their consciousness continuing on in a new vessel,” Jacob explained, shifting nervously when the tip of the knife pricked the skin beneath his jaw, drawing a trickle of blood and a grin from Alice. “Sadly, it does not work that way. When the Anathema dies, that story ends. The nanite copy might be identical to the living thing that came before it, with the same memories and motivations, but they are not the same being. They are something new, and entirely different. I am no copy, but the original issue,” Jacob boasted. “I do not die and then live again, I simply do not die.”
“That’s a bit obscure,” Alice said, getting very close. “What would happen if I cut out your eyes?”
“You are very fixated on eyes this evening…”
“Give me another flippant answer,” Alice said, the tip of the knife sliding up Jacob’s cheek, “and I’ll show you just how fixated.”
“That will not be necessary,” Jacob said, putting his hands up. “If you were to cut out my eyes, they would grow back.”
“You sure?”
“I am,” Jacob said sadly. “It has happened before.”
“I see,” Alice said. “What about your arm? What if you lost a limb?”
“That would be awful,” Jacob said. “But I assume that it would also regenerate, over time.”
“Like a lizard,” Alice remarked. “How long would something like that take?”
“Several weeks, at least. Perhaps the better part of a year.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
“Thank God, no. I’m just guessing, based on previous experience.”
“What about fire?” Alice asked. “What if I set you on fire?”
“Please don’t.”
“Answer the question, Jacob!”
“I would burn,” Jacob said, hanging his head. “It is an awful sensation. The healing from a serious bu
rn, however, is worse than the injury.”
“Huh.” Alice’s eyes turned to the pool. “What about drowning? What happens if I hold you under water?”
“I have to breathe,” Jacob said, almost shrugging, until he remembered the knife against the skin below his left eye. “My lungs would fill with water, and I would suffocate, but I would not die. I imagine that it would be little different from my time in the Ether.”
“You ever feel like you pulled the short straw when they were handing out protocols?”
“When I was lost in the Ether, I thought little else.”
“I don’t blame you,” Alice said. “Who put you up to this? Anastasia?”
“No one had to put me up to anything. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to speak with you again. I was, however, informed that you would be in the vicinity this evening.”
“I knew it!” Alice grinned. “You fucking liar. Who told you?”
“An old mutual friend of mine and yours,” Jacob admitted. “John Parson told me and suggested that I might want to speak with you. I was naturally eager to do so.”
“The Anathema. Of course.”
“It’s not what you think! You and John have not always been in opposition.”
“You’ve lied to me already,” Alice said. “Why should I believe any of this?”
“It is the truth. John Parson was once an important part of your life. A friend, and more than that at times. As I was. Christopher Feld – a vampire you have perhaps forgotten – was another of our number. We are not your enemies, Alice. We are your admirers.”
“Fuck you guys. I’m not buying any of this.”
“You have forgotten us, Alice,” Jacob said urgently. “I know that you think that we are misleading and confusing you, but I promise you, it is John and I who are your allies. The people in Central you consider your friends are the ones who have stripped you of your memory and your rightful place in the world.”
“Yeah? And what is it you want to do to me?”
“A number of things,” Jacob said, with a coy smile. “Primarily, however, I would like to see you remember your true self. I have not spoken with John in years, before our recent conversation, and I cannot speak for what he has done, or for the Anathema, but I am certain that he wants you to…”
The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 20
