by M. T. Miller
“A Saint?” asked the Nameless.
“Indeed,” Chastity said. “Crops grew in her presence, and fruits and vegetables formed large and nutritious. Granted, this still wasn’t enough to feed the whole city, let alone an army, so we had to combine it with the lower-quality food grown in the wasteland. The result was not exactly palatable, but wasn’t harmful either.”
The Nameless remembered the rations from the Skulls’ boot camp. They fit her story.
“But she lost this power after I slew the angel,” he said.
“Most likely,” Chastity said. “But it makes no difference. She is dead. Killed in the collective insanity that ensued after everyone realized their savior was dead. There is now no one left to help feed the masses, and they are getting more and more difficult to control. For all their power, prayers and sermons are slowly failing.
“I could keep apologizing, but I won’t. Nothing I say will undo the consequences of our actions, and that is something we will have to live with.” She briefly looked at the Nameless. “Fact is, our people need help, and we can only get it here. Name your price, and we will pay it.”
A long silence ensued. Her case is on point, thought the Nameless.
“We will consider this,” David said.
“Consider?” Chastity’s silvery brows lowered somewhat. “Is that all we get from this? A consideration?”
“Oh, there will definitely be trade of some kind,” David said. “We just need to fine-tune the details.”
Chastity weighed his words. “I appreciate that.”
“In private,” David said. “Residents of Babylon only.”
“Understood.” Chastity stepped away from the table. “When will these talks resume?”
“Tomorrow at noon,” David said. “Unless that is too early for you.”
“Not at all,” Chastity said. “Should we excuse ourselves?”
“You are free to leave,” David said, gesturing to a pair of his personal guards. They approached Chastity’s group.
“We will take you to your room,” one of them said. “Please follow us.”
Chastity obliged in silence. Her retinue did the same.
“Now,” David said after the door shut. “What do you all make of this?”
***
“Lies,” Emile said.
“What makes you think that?” David asked. “We’ve had difficulties in feeding people ourselves.”
“Well, not everything, perhaps,” Emile said. “But they’re definitely here for more than they let on. With their surplus of people, it wouldn’t take a year for them to reach a breaking point.” He looked at SIM. “You’re supposed to be smart. What do you think?”
“Hard to say.” SIM’s gaze flew over everyone present. “Perhaps they had supplies that are about to run out. Maybe there was a long power struggle in the White City, one that Chas won. Am I the only one here who noticed a distinct lack of Father Light?”
“The fact that he is not here, does not mean that much,” the Nameless said. ”As far as we know, he is back in the White City, running the Church while the other Saint is here.”
“I’m not denying that possibility,” SIM said. “These are just possible explanations. As always, they could be here just to spy on us. Or worse. Which brings us back to the initial question: why wait a year?”
Several seconds of silence followed.
“You are the supposed genius,” said the Nameless. “You should have ideas.”
“The most likely one,” SIM said, “is the previously-mentioned power struggle. It’s also possible that they had expected us to crumble from infighting after we no longer had a common enemy. Since that didn’t happen, sending an expedition to collect data would be a viable course of action.”
“They could have sent more conventional spies,” David said.
“And what makes you think they didn’t?” SIM asked. “Oh, there are definitely spies in the Circle, Torres. There may even be some in the pyramid.” He extended both hands while standing straight. “But on this floor, there are zero. I know this place by heart and mind. No one enters or exits without me having thought of it first. This place, where decisions are made, is one hundred percent germ-free, and that I can guarantee.”
“So you think they might be here to get a glimpse of our ‘inner circle,’ so to speak?” asked the Nameless.
“Just as likely as most other options we’ve mentioned,” SIM said. “And also not incompatible with them.
“You’re being vague,” David said, “which you’re usually not. What’s wrong?”
“A lack of information is what’s wrong,” SIM said. “Back when I worked for the government, I had access to volumes of info you couldn’t imagine.” He looked at the Nameless. “When I look at someone, it’s not difficult for me to tell who they are, and thus what they might be capable of. Further conclusions easily follow.”
SIM pointed in the vague direction of the envoys’ apartment. “But with these people, personal details are only a miniscule part of a much greater puzzle. Mercenaries, low-ranking priests, and a nearly expressionless, formerly-superpowered nun. For as long as their behavior doesn’t deviate from what we know and what we’ve been given, we might as well presume they are telling the truth.”
“And what, we act nice until they rob us?” Emile asked, showing his freshly-whitened teeth. “Until they kill someone? All of us, maybe?”
“That won’t happen,” said SIM. “Torres has them under a watchful eye, and each fresh piece of information will promptly be delivered to me. If I see any deviation on the horizon, I’ll be certain to alert all of you.”
Emile turned to the Nameless. Neither man said a word.
“No one is asking any of you to be friendly with these people,” David said, interrupting the tension. “For fuck’s sake, SIM here has more reason to hate them than any single one of us, yet he’s approaching this situation with the most maturity!”
“They say you’re an artificially-made human,” Emile said to SIM.
“They are right,” SIM said. “A project of the old government. A rather successful one.”
“Back when they made you” —Emile stomped toward the door, and looked at SIM as he opened it— “did it occur to you that they may have forgotten to install a soul?”
“The thought has amused me,” SIM said as the door shut.
“Where’s he sleeping?” David asked.
“I had him provided with an apartment on this floor,” the Nameless said. “Not too close to our guests, and not too far.”
“And he’s not going to descend into the Circle just to spite us?” David asked no one in particular.
“He will not,” the Nameless was quick to reply. Most likely.
“What about you, then?” David asked the Nameless. “Any potential outbursts we should be worried about?”
“If there were,” the Nameless smiled, “I would not announce them in advance.”
“To summarize,” SIM said before David could react, “we can all agree that the Church’s emissaries are not here out of altruism but pure self-interest. Whatever combination of motives they bear, we can only guess until they come into effect.”
Both David and the Nameless nodded.
“So the negotiations continue,” David said.
“At least until—and if—something changes,” the Nameless added.
“Agreed,” SIM said.
“Anything else we need to go over?” the Nameless asked. Someone was waiting for him back in his room, and time was ticking.
“No, you’re free,” said David.
Am I, really? the Nameless asked himself as he exited the meeting chamber.
Chapter Eleven
When the Nameless reached his old place, he was still accompanied by a pair of guards. It was time to get rid of them.
“If anything, and I do mean anything unusual happens on the floor, you are to inform me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, Sheriff!” The men salut
ed before marching away.
Perhaps she is still resting. The Nameless turned the knob. The door was left unlocked, so he carefully pushed it in. What he saw inside unleashed a torrent of memories.
Only the night light was on. Resting on the bed, Rush lay in the nude. Her elbow was braced against the cover, supporting her head as she stared into the Nameless’ eyes.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“It is an ongoing process,” said the Nameless as he slammed the door behind him. He immediately took his coat off and tossed it on the nearest chair. “More importantly, how are you?”
“Better,” she said, pressing her free hand against her body to accentuate her chest. She smiled. “Much better now that you’re here, in fact.”
The Nameless responded with a smile of his own. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, then threw it over the coat.
“So…” Rush cooed as he removed the rest of his clothing. “Did you defile her?”
The Nameless stopped stripping. “Excuse me?”
“The nun, you blockhead!” Rush made a silly face. “Did you put the fear of god into her? How is she? Should I be worried?”
The Nameless now removed his pants, more slowly. “We barely know each other, Rush. She helped me out back when I rose from the grave, saved my friend from a gruesome end, and helped us flee the skulls.”
“A friend?” Rush asked. “Before all this? He alive?”
“Guess,” said the Nameless as he approached the bed.
“Cause of death?”
“Knowing me.”
Rush’s smile decreased in intensity. “Oh, well.” She extended her free hand toward the Nameless. “Can’t win ‘em all.”
Indeed, the Nameless thought as he took his place beside her.
“I’ve missed this place,” she said.
“So did I,” the Nameless said as he brought his face closer to hers. “And now I will remind you why.”
***
The Nameless spent most of the next day overseeing the negotiations. Unlike last night, this time he kept himself out of most discussions. Economics and trade were the purview of David and SIM, and there was nothing for the Nameless to add, at least as far as he could tell.
Rush and Emile stood at his side, surrounded by eight more guards. All of these were tasked with overseeing the guests, as well as each other, and immediately reacting in case of anything resembling aggression. Not counting the Emile’s hostile stare, there was nothing remotely threatening.
Judging by the way Rush’s eyes kept skimming over everyone present, it was apparent that she was bored out of her wits. Unfortunately for her, this time her presence was mandatory. If the others missed any detail, she wouldn’t.
By the time the meeting ended, absolutely nothing unusual had taken place. Both Rush and Emile were visibly disappointed at this, but for different reasons.
“You’re a hard woman to haggle with,” said David as he rose from his seat. Unlike the last time, everyone but security had been seated.
“These are expensive trinkets we are talking about,” Chastity said. “They may not be of practical use now, but in five or ten years, they may prove priceless. The Church would rather see them safe in a major city than sell them to some corn-peddler.”
“And where they’ll wind up is entirely on you,” David said as he, SIM, and their retinue went for the exit.
They shut the door behind them, and Chastity started to rise. It was then that the Nameless approached her.
“Sister, I would have a word,” he said while gesturing for Rush and Emile to stay back.
“Of course you would,” Chastity turned to one of her mercenaries. “Take the others and leave this room.” She faced the Nameless again. “And you will have it. Alone.”
Rush was about to step forward. The hand the Nameless pressed against her stomach stopped her in her tracks.
“I will be alright,” he said. “I am the god of war, remember? One nun cannot harm me.”
“This is dumb,” Rush said as she turned toward the exit. “But whatever, Bones. Have fun.”
She fears that I have not told her everything, the Nameless realized. Tonight he would reassure her otherwise.
Emile and the rest only started moving after Chastity’s group was out. Finally, the door slammed shut, and the Nameless was left alone with the nun.
“So, Satan,” Chastity said, sitting as straight as an arrow. “What fresh blasphemy do you have for me?”
The Nameless sat opposite her. He took on his usual pose. “Nothing you haven’t heard already. And I am not the devil, Chastity. In fact, if you remember your so-called Holy One, I think you would find it far more deserving of the title.”
He half-expected Chastity to explode with rage. Instead, she sighed.
“Don’t you think I know that?” she asked. “Unlike you, Nameless, I was in their company from the start. If anyone knows of the damage we have done, it is me.”
The Nameless straightened his back as well, lowering his hands on the table. “Why the insult, then?”
Chastity’s face became an emotionless mask again. “Because, loath as I am to admit it, there is a part of me that’s still bound to the Holy One. Regardless of their death, and no matter the monstrous crimes done in their name, I can’t help but love them unconditionally. And even after all this time, after a year’s worth of reasoning and self-reflection, I can’t help but despise you for robbing this world of their presence.”
“That makes no sense,” the Nameless said. However, there was a forgotten part of him that disagreed with that statement.
“I know now that we were in the wrong,” she said. “In the method at least, if not in the idea. And I also know that it was you who stopped us from gladly marching into Hell. For that, you have my deepest gratitude.”
She closed both fists. “But the Holy One is still part of me, Nameless, and they scream for your destruction. Oh, don’t worry. I won’t allow that fact to influence my decisions. I am here for the people; for those who, like me, were deluded by this shining, beautiful angel of the Lord.”
The way she spoke the last sentence made a lump in the Nameless’ throat, and he quickly realized why. The old priest. Father Light had done something to him, to all who became White Knights, even for the sake of infiltration. The regret he had to deal with after executing the Holy One was impossible to put into words. And in all likelihood, whatever was done to Chastity and the other Saints was much, much more radical.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.
“Because I want to,” she said. “End of story.”
“Fair enough,” said the Nameless. “What about Father Light? Is he still among the living?”
“Not anymore,” said Chastity.
“I see. Care to share why?”
“No,” she said coldly.
Infighting. The Nameless remembered SIM’s words. He was likely right again.
“That would be all, then.” The Nameless braced his hands against the table.
“I have a question of my own,” said Chastity.
The Nameless stopped halfway to an upright position. “Yes?”
“Why did you give it all up?” she asked. “You could have laid claim to Babylon, and then expanded across the States. Broken as we were, you probably could have conquered the White City itself.” She leaned in. “Why settle with being Chief of Police?”
The Nameless didn’t need to consider his words. “Tell me, Chastity, do you lead what is left of the Church?”
“I will not answer that,” she said.
You may as well have admitted it. “I will tell you of my experience anyway. You see, Sister, for me lordship comprised nothing but headaches, danger, and a never-ending streak of attempts on my life. In giving it up, I have become free to pursue something I want, instead of bearing the cross for someone else. If it comes to it again, yes, I will pick it back up.” He rose and set off toward the door. “Until then, my life is my own. That, Chastity,
is why I chose not to rule.”
He left the room in silence, leaving it open so the guards could see the nun unharmed. How much longer she stayed inside, he didn’t know.
***
The Nameless and Rush were admiring a sunset near one of the western windows when a frantic guard ran up.
“Sh-Sheriff!” The man wheezed for air.
“Take your time, soldier,” the Nameless said.
Rush paid the man no heed. She continued to admire the sight.
“Th-there’s no time to take, sir!” the man said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
Could it be? The Nameless placed his hands on the guard’s shoulders. “Has there been a security breach?”
“No, sir,” the guards said. “Well, not that I know of. You’re needed downstairs. In the Circle.”
The Nameless released him. “I thought I was explicit in this. While the envoys are here, I am effectively out of commission.”
“Oh, I know that, sir,” the guard said.
“But?”
“But you’ve also told us, just as explicitly, to let you know if any more torn-up bodies popped up.”
Now Rush was staring at the guard as well.
“You are not saying—?”
“Pardon me, sir and ma’am,” the guard said, “but I’m saying exactly that. There’s been a new murder. We’ve isolated the crime scene, and are awaiting orders.”
The Nameless bit the inside of his mouth. On one hand, he needed to stay where he was. On the other, if he missed this chance to inspect a fresh crime scene, more people would end up killed.
Not to mention what might happen if news of this reached Chastity.
He said to the guard, “Take half of what we have guarding the factories down on the ground floor, and move them up here.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said. He hesitated on his next sentence. “For how—“
“I am well aware of how crucial those positions are,” said the Nameless. “Tell these men, David, or whoever it is that you also report to that they will be free to return to their positions by as early as midnight.”
