Alex took Marcus’s proffered hand.
“You got told,” the old man said, with a wry grin. “Emily, why don’t you find something to occupy yourself with, while I tell Alex a few of the things you already know?”
“I’m going already,” Emily said, departing with a cheerful wave. “I didn’t want to listen to the guy talk anyway.”
Marcus stuck his hands in his pockets, waiting in amiable silence until well after Emily had disappeared into the wilds of the untamed garden.
“I know we just met, and I hate to be presumptuous,” Marcus said. “Knowing a bit about what you’ve been through, Alex, I bet you could use a drink.”
“That’s the first good idea I’ve heard in a long time.”
***
Xia met her in the basement, but his company did little to improve her mood. Alice was wrestling with ghosts; the memories she had lost and the weight of their absence.
The layout of the Anathema facility was identical to the one she had visited before, or close enough that Rebecca had no trouble taking them to the elevator, and then to a corresponding stairwell sealed behind a metal-reinforced security door. Alice stood back while Xia melted the locking mechanism into compliance, and then led the way down, breath shortened by the space in her chest that the lost memories of her confinement occupied.
The main chamber was a perfect replica of the centerpiece of Alice’s prolonged confinement, and even the partial recall dizzied her. The more gruesome and theatrical torture apparatus were placed in the center of a circular room lined with numbered cells, each provided with a convenient set of sliding windows, serving as a constant reminder to the prisoners. At the other end of the room, opposite the stairwell, were a pair of unmarked doors, behind one of which the work of the facility was done.
The other door concealed a massive furnace, built to crematory specifications. That was where the rest of the work happened.
Her body remembered, even if her mind did not, her shins and insteps and tongue and the skin beneath her fingernails. Xia must have noticed her shake, but he was too good of a friend to do anything other than hover nearby.
Becca?
Alice didn’t need to ask; instead, she granted her old friend permission.
On it.
Empathic relief smoothed the tremble from her fingers, a flood of dopamine quieting her anxiety. Steadied and reassured, Alice returned to her inspection.
The holding cells were stained and hastily abandoned. The door to the furnace was stuck, so Xia melted another lock into bright metal sludge. The room behind was choked with poorly-wrapped decaying bodies, and dense with necrotic fumes. The Director recoiled and retched at the smell, while Alice and Xia spread out to search. Xia combed through the ash in the furnace with his blue-gloved fingers, inspecting gritty little bits of bone and tooth. He collected the remains into a large plastic bag, so Analytics could scan for DNA and residual organics.
Alice threw open the door to the interrogation chamber. There were more bodies inside, wrapped in drab hospital green. Alice stalked through the room slowly, pausing occasionally to listen. She stopped above one specific body, bending her ear to a bloody mouth.
Central, Alice hailed, get a team of telepaths down here. Hurry.
On it, Chief. You find something?
Yeah. You could say that.
***
The old man drank peach brandy. It was sickly sweet, but Alex was in no position to be choosey.
“Alexander Warner. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“That’s generally not a good thing.”
“Well put.” Alex suspected that Marcus was laughing at him, but he couldn’t summon the energy to care. “You shouldn’t place too much significance on things that only happened in your head, I find.”
They sat on a picnic table in the low wooden building where he had awoken, a sort of cabin built with lumber and salvaged wood, somewhere within the massive garden. The beds around them were filled with dead plants and weeds, apparently awaiting the gardener’s attention.
“That didn’t used to be a problem for me. I think it wasn’t, anyway. I’m not so sure of anything, lately.”
“That’s a common state of mind, I suspect. Not a profitable one, necessarily, but understandable. Do you feel that the world has been hard on you, Alex?”
Alex finished his glass, and then gave the old man a look that rested ambiguously between weariness and wariness.
“I don’t know. Are things supposed to be easy?”
“That seems to be the popular opinion.” Marcus Bay-Davies grinned broadly. “I expected you to feel sorry for yourself, Alex. I’m pleased to be wrong.”
“Oh, I can do self-pity, if you give me the chance. I’m just concerned with other things right now.”
“Allow me to reward your resilience and focus,” Marcus said. “I will share a secret with you, Alex. Would you hear of the founding of Central, and of what we discovered, when we first located the city in the Ether?”
“How can you remember something like that? There’s no way you’re that old.”
“How old is Central, then? How long has it been occupied, and by whom?”
“Now you sound like Mr. Windsor.”
“Perhaps you wish to speak of more practical affairs?” Marcus lowered his voice, a tic causing one eyebrow to jump repeatedly, distorting his expression. “You have enemies, Alex. Would you like to know about the Church of Sleep, our local heart of darkness? Sleep is an outside condition, an affliction forced on every living thing, you realize. It nurtures the original residents of the Outer Dark, but it does nothing for man.”
“I’m in total agreement, actually. But I’ll pass.”
“What about John Parson? He has secret intentions that I can share with you, knowledge that could change the course of the present conflict with Central…”
“No thanks,” Alex said. “There’s only one thing I want to know.”
“Yes?”
“Where is Eerie?”
Marcus erupted in laughter.
“You are admirably single-minded,” the old man said, wiping his eyes. “I mean that as praise, truly. Unfortunately, I do not know the answer to your question, because the Changeling has become obscure to me. She was in the Waste for an uncertain time, traveling…”
“The Waste?”
“…but now she has become obscure. That sort of obscurity is a difficult state to arrange, you know. Few are capable of such machinations, and I would have told you that I trained all of them personally, until your little friend managed it on her own. As the Changeling approaches maturity, her Etheric Signature gleams like a beacon, making her disappearance even more remarkable.”
“So, you don’t know anything useful.” Alex did not bother to hide his disappointment. “Typical.”
“I know what happened between you and the Yaojing,” Marcus said, with a grin. “I know that she tormented you in dreams, sourced from the narrow band of experience between the life the Changeling destroyed and the present moment.”
“How do you know this stuff?”
“I was eavesdropping on the whole sad experience, as was anyone in the Outer Dark with the capability.”
“You could have helped…right? Could you have helped?”
“I did help you. Notice that you have been rescued. Do you mean that I could have helped earlier?”
Alex nodded.
“That is a possibility.” The old man shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“To me, yeah.” Alex flexed his altered hand. “Does that surprise you?”
“Finally! A question I can answer. I’m indifferent to your feelings, Alex, as is most of the world.” The old man laughed at Alex’s anger, pouring another slug of brandy into Alex’s crystal-glass tumbler. “I’m not your friend, and you would do well to remember that. I’m not your enemy, either, mind you. Nothing is ever that simple. I intended to help you from the beginning, but I need to be careful. I could have rushed my people to yo
ur rescue – maybe – but why? Miss Muir’s plan was elegant, and more likely to succeed than any such heroics. A little slow, perhaps, but that was a virtue, in this case.”
Alex relaxed slightly.
“I regret what you suffered in that chamber in the Inverted Spire, and in the Yaojing’s dreams, but I hope that you learned something from the experience. If you allow it to, Alex, the world will treat you abominably.”
“I kind of figured that out for myself already,” Alex said, holding his glass between his palms. “No offense.”
“Very good, then. Have you ever considered why Miss Muir came to join us here in the Outer Dark, Alex?”
Alex shifted against the bench and sipped the fragrant brandy, redolent of summer fruit.
“Emily had to join the Anathema.” Alex tried to sound more magnanimous than he felt. “There were private circumstances. If she hasn’t told you, then I’m not going…”
The old man interrupted him with laughter.
“I know the whole story already, obviously. I watched the whole thing. I suspect that you don’t truly place the blame on her parents, or cartel politics. You believe that she was deceived by the Anathema, don’t you? Seduced by what the Outer Dark could offer?”
Alex took his time figuring out an answer. Marcus was intent on working his way through the bottle of brandy, however, and did not seem overly put out by the delay.
“Maybe.”
“Miss Muir seems to you the type to be easily seduced?”
Alex blushed and the old man laughed again.
“That isn’t…”
“It is, though. You underestimate her. Everyone does. It’s one of the many reasons that I recruited her.”
“You brought her over to the Anathema?”
“Not precisely. She was recruited to the Anathema by her sister Therese, who was in turn recruited by the former Chief Auditor. I’m afraid that Emily was inducted into John Parson’s death cult before I could intervene and present her with an alternative. That opportunity came a bit later.”
“You seem really tied up in all this shit,” Alex said. “What sort of protocol do you operate, anyway?”
“I manipulate the Ether directly, in a fundamental manner that cannot be understood as a protocol. This allows me to ignore some of the small considerations in life, such as time, place, and perspective. I dislike bragging, but my talent has its occasional uses. That, however, is beside the point.”
“Slow down, would you? This is a lot to absorb.”
“I’m sorry to trouble you so, Alex. To return to my point, then. Emily Muir has her reasons for remaining in the Outer Dark, and with the Anathema. I flatter myself by thinking that I provide her many of those reasons.”
“Oh. I sorta feel like I should hit you, or something.”
“If you feel you must, then by all means,” the old man said, his grin revealing a mélange of gold and yellowed enamel. “Just don’t hold me responsible for the consequences of your folly.”
Alex sneered, but truly did not feel very sure of himself.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What did you tell Emily that was such a revelation?”
Emily slid on to the bench beside Alex, startling him.
“He told me how it all started. He told me about fairy blood transfusion, among other true things. Then Mark told me he had an idea for how to fix everything…”
“Half an idea, really,” Marcus said modestly. “I’m not a man for details.”
“…but he didn’t know how to realize his idea. I was immediately intrigued! I started to work on it right away, and after a few revisions to Mark’s plan, it seemed like the most obvious thing to do was to involve Vivik, who had a similar plan of his own…”
“What?” Alex set his glass down with a clatter. “Are you kidding me?”
“Of course.” Emily sniffed. “Are the two of you drunk?”
“Not at all!” Marcus protested.
“Pretty much,” Alex confirmed. “Sorry, Emily. It’s been…”
“…a while. You know you say that a lot?” She held up a canteen. “I made tea, if anyone wants some.”
***
The telepath Central dispatched was a stocky Puerto Rican with tired eyes and nicotine stained fingers. He failed to make eye contact and hardly spoke, nodding in Alice’s direction upon arrival with a look of utter distaste. Fortunately, Central had warned her about the telepath’s autism, so the Chief Auditor was tolerant.
“You the telepath?” Alice prompted.
“Yes. Yadiel Cruz.”
Alice waited, with a smirk on her face, until the telepath relented.
“Ma’am.”
“Good,” Alice said, relenting. “How are you with following instructions, Yadiel?”
The telepath nodded and stared at an unfixed point somewhere to the left of Alice.
“Okay. More importantly, how are you at forgetting this, Yadiel?”
That got his attention, his eyes flickering briefly across her face in confusion, before retreating again into unfocused vagueness.
“I am prepared to expunge my memory on command. Ma’am. No need to worry.”
Alice studied the telepath, and then shrugged.
“This way.”
She led him down the hall. Walking swiftly to the vacant interrogation chamber, Alice Gallow reflected darkly on the company she was keeping, of late.
“I worry, Yadiel. Not professionally, mind you – my job isn’t to worry, after all. That’s the Director’s job. She frets over every little thing, believe me. My job is simple. I take care of the things that worry the Director. Easy. No stress.” Alice smiled and stretched her back, still sore from Japan. “This is personal. Personal shit stresses me out, Yadiel.”
The telepath frowned, but followed behind her without complaint. Alice held the cell door open so they could step inside. Yadiel took a couple steps in, and then froze, as one tends to, when they discover an apparently dead body laid out in front of them.
“What do you think, Yadiel?” Alice pointed at the man, bald and missing eyes and teeth. “Did they not notice one of them was still alive? Or did they leave us some kind of gross souvenir?”
Anyone else would have cringed, Alice thought, feeling slightly robbed by Yadiel’s blasé reaction, little more than a muted nod. He closed his eyes, appearing to the Chief Auditor like he decided to take a brief vertical nap. She waited impatiently, pacing around the bodies in the room.
“They might not have known, Ms. Gallow,” Yadiel offered, his voice distant. “The life signs are incredibly muted. I’m not sure how you even noticed.”
“I’ve seen a lot of dead people. You start to know the difference.”
“If you say so. I’m not certain what these people were exposed to, Chief Auditor…”
“I got an idea.”
“…but they died badly, and quickly. The trauma permeates this whole facility. If I had to guess, then I would guess that they were all killed simultaneously.”
“Seems about right.” Alice pointed at the body at their feet. “Can you pull anything from this one, before they kick?”
Yadiel considered his prospect. The Chief Auditor paced.
“I believe so, Chief,” Yadiel said. “Their consciousness is fragmented, badly degraded by trauma and biological damage, but there are bits and pieces that should be recoverable.”
“Good news! One more thing, then.” Alice seized the telepath by his chin, forcing him to look her directly in the face. “After you’re done here, make yourself forget this. Wipe the whole event from your memory, complete with the summons. Then turn yourself over to Audits for an Inquiry, just to make certain.”
Alice released him, and Yadiel reeled away, rubbing his chin.
“Trust me, kid,” she said nonchalantly. “I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want any part of this.”
And neither do I, Alice thought, letting herself quietly out of the cell while Yadiel began his work.
***
; “Tell him.”
“You should…”
“Not this part. It sounds cooler, coming from you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You give it credibility. You look old enough to remember it, you know.”
“I very nearly am old enough!”
“So you say, though I think you’re fibbing. Tell the story!”
“Fine.” Marcus settled down at the table huffily, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. “Don’t blame me if it upsets him. He seems easily offended, your Mr. Warner.”
“Watch it!”
“There we go again,” Marcus said. “I have to warn you, Alex, that much of this will directly contradict some of the history you were taught in class, regarding the Fey. The subject is deliberately obscured…”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Alex said. “I don’t really pay attention in class.”
Alex had to give it to the old man. He told a good story, though Alex was so tired that he had trouble keeping names and details straight.
The story went something like this:
Everything started with the Witches – or one Witch in particular, really. A Witch with the bad luck to fall into human hands alive, providing inarguable proof in her doubtlessly horrible suffering of the Outer Dark. That knowledge, naturally, was sequestered by a select few, who began hunting for further manifestations. The Weir, the Ghouls, and other similarly ghastly discoveries followed, but little was learned from them, other than adding weight to the theory that the universe hated mankind far more than seemed appropriate.
The Fey, however, were something completely different.
“When they were first discovered,” Marcus explained gruffly, clearly enjoying the attention, “the Fey were dormant. Had been for a long time. If a female had been discovered, this would be a very different story, but they were likely extinct at that point in time. Instead, they found Oberon.”
“Who?”
“It’s a name they gave him. A bad joke based on myth. Oberon, king of the fairies. An old English myth.” Marcus glanced at Alex. “Miss Muir tells me you’re close to the youngest, Ériu. You know anything about the male of the species?”
The Outer Dark (Central Series Book 4) Page 39
