by Richard Hein
The woman cleared the distance between us in a blink. Meaty hands curled around my throat and slammed me against the wall. Black dots swam across my vision.
“Was there no room left in the ninth circle of Hell?” she spat. “You have some nerve, Samuel.”
“I’m like a third-circle kind of guy,” I managed to squeak out. I slapped at her wrists. It was like punching concrete. “Nice to see you too.”
“Lauren was like family to me. How dare you stand here after what you did.”
A chill tore at my spine at the name. “Wasn’t my choice,” I breathed. “Trust me.”
Fingers tightened. Hot breath washed across my face as she clipped off each syllable. “No one would stop me if I snapped your neck, Samuel. She is dead because of you and not one soul in this world or the next would stop me from crushing your windpipe and watching you choke to death.”
“That is certainly enough,” Francis said. He approached and hovered beside Kseniya, but did nothing to break her meat claws off of my throat. “Further antagonizing of Seneschals will see you ejected, Samuel. Seneschal Kseniya?”
She gave me a final squeeze before letting go. There was a distinct pop in the back of my neck. I sagged against the wall as Kseniya backed away. She paused long enough to flip me the one-fingered magical spell.
“Do try to contain your natural incendiary inclinations, Samuel,” Francis said and left.
Daniel and I stood in awkward silence for a few long minutes. I rubbed at my neck, throwing challenging stares around the room, waiting to see who would be next to say hello.
It was great to be back.
Kate reappeared from the lower levels. She seemed no worse for having met The Boss. Her back was straight as she strode back to me, face an implacable mask. My eyebrows rose in question, but no answers were forthcoming.
“Holy crap that library,” Kate said. “How many kidneys do I need to sell to throw a cot in the corner and just live?”
“Both,” I said, “but I invented a replacement with a water filter and some duct tape, so I’ve got you covered.”
Her smile was fleeting. “Christina wants to see you now. She’s heard my story.”
“What did the old battle ax say?” I asked. My brow furrowed. “No, what’s older than an old battle ax? You know the scene in 2001? With the chimps? What did the old bone have to say?”
Kate shook her head, eyes flicking away. “It’s your turn to go talk to her. She’s… intense.”
I stared for a second, shrugged, and walked toward the lion’s den. I heard Daniel offer Kate something to eat, but the words vanished as I strode to meet with the woman that both saved my life and ended it three years ago. I tried not to glance into the offices on either side of me as I passed, but curiosity turned my head. Familiar faces watched me as I wandered by.
None were friendly.
I sighed.
The first floor below was the archives. Some of it digital, much of it still printed on the mashed and pulped corpses of dead trees. The push to computers had been a huge project around the time I’d been given the heave, on account that importing all those books was a serious strain on that single door in. Sure enough, I spotted two dozen drones, turning pages in ancient tomes with white and sterile gloves as they typed the contents into their late nineties computers. Like most offices, Sanctuary was reticent to upgrade unless it had to. I pitied the schmuck that had the ill fortune with the title of IT manager for this universe.
The floor looked like a Victorian-era library with a high-vaulted ceiling, despite the fact that I’d just come from the floor above just a few feet ago. Non-Euclidean spaces were such a bitch to wrap the mind around, so it was easier to just ignore it. It was much harder to push away the spectacle of the structure itself. Burnished wood banisters supported arches that met the floor above, a dizzying design of leaves and vines done in gold and silver flowing between them. Wide shelves with glass doors covered every space between, crammed full of books and scrolls that dated back to when the first ape decided to draw in mud with a stick. Twisting pillars of stone grew beneath stained glass windows that led to nowhere, yet glowed with a faint pink light. Warm, sterile air filled my lungs with each breath. It was like Hogwart’s on crack, and I breathed it in, letting the memories fill me once more.
I could make out the halls that led to the dorms at the back. Few truly lived here, but it was convenient to crash when necessary. I wove my way through the floor to the next set of stairs. They were across the library, which was completely inconvenient to get to the next floor down, but I didn’t expect a lobotomized Entity to pay attention to things like proper architecture. Not many people ventured lower anyway.
The next floor down held The Boss’s office. A series of covered walkways led further away, buildings and doors dotting the landscape beyond as if we were outdoors. Large blackened wood obelisks, looking exceptionally ancient Egyptian to me, rose from a meticulous tile plaza. Their surfaces lay cluttered in faded bills and ledgers I’d never gotten close enough to read. No one went beyond Christina’s office. Ever. The buildings receded into the distance, occluded from view by a few turns. I craned my neck, but couldn’t see any sign of what lay beyond, or any people at all. If there was a purpose to this floor, I’d never heard of it.
On either side of the Christina’s door were two women. MP-5 submachine guns were slung over their shoulders, with collapsible batons in leather holsters at one hip. They regarded me and dismissed me as quick as a thought. I swallowed, raised a fist, and rapped on Christina’s door.
“Come.”
I pushed open the frosted glass door and slid into the office, letting it close behind me with a heavy mortal click. I’d never been in here before. I’d only met Christina once, when I’d been given my pink slip that somehow hadn’t been attached to a bullet. While I said everyone went out into the world on assignments, The Boss was exempt from that particular little rule. I’d never heard of her returning to our world. She was, it seemed, a permanent denizen of an alternate existence, preferring to administrate the OFC from her office and wherever she slept. I hadn’t seen any sign of a bed, though.
The room was an eclectic gathering of items from every sort of time and place imaginable. A tall grandfather clock loomed in one corner beside a small brushed aluminum desk with a portable MP3 player atop it, beside a beautiful record player. A bronze globe sat nearby, idly turning as if spun by ghostly hands. Posters of movies from the seventies covered a few walls, tastefully broken up by a few Ansel Adams prints. A dark stained table sat nearby, affixed with the holy grail itself. Scotch. My gaze lingered.
Christina sat behind her Texas-sized wooden desk, looking less alive and more preserved than anyone I’d seen. Her skin was tight, like someone had given a crank at the back of her skull a turn every year to keep her wrinkle-free. Her hair was simple and utilitarian, mostly gone to gray. Faded tattoos I couldn’t make out sleeved her wrists just beneath the crisp button-up shirt she wore. She peeled off a pair of wire glasses and gestured with them at a weathered steel chair that looked like military surplus from World War II. I spun it sideways and dropped onto it with one arm hanging over the back.
“Samuel,” Christina said in a tone one usually reserved for chastising the cat that had vomited up a fleet of hairballs in your work shoes. It came out heavily accented, from somewhere beyond my little Seattle. I tried to smile at her, but the onslaught of her disapproval was too intense. I chose to nod instead.
“Hello, Christina,” I said. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You’ve chosen civility,” she said. “I had not realized you’d read that far in Basic Manners for Dummies.”
I made a face. “CliffsNotes. Kate came to me for help. I’m trying to make sure you don’t ignore her.”
“You see yourself as doing us a favor,” Christina said. She folded her hands in front of her on her mammoth desk and met my eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’ve decided to leverage some intell
igence, Samuel, instead of fumbling through this on your own.”
Something dark rumbled in my chest. “Fumbling?” I muttered, spinning around and sitting a little more upright. “Why exactly would I have fumbled around on this one? I put in my time here, Christina. I’m as capable as any active agent. Hell, I technically am active, if you want to get down to it. The exile is just a thing you made up.”
“Capable.” Christina drew out the word with a slight tilt of her head. “Two simple EDEs, Samuel. I could consult my notes, but it seems you’ve faced far worse in the past.” The voice was as firm as the granite we’d walked across to get here. I flinched, biting down hard on my tongue to keep the acid from spewing out. “I broke rules keeping you alive, Samuel. Certainly not for myself. Nor for the organization. Because I’m as human as the next, despite what you might believe. I might even understand why you did it, and I didn’t have the heart to put a bullet in your head for it. I’m soft in my old age.”
I stared at my former boss, fingers twitching, wishing I was anywhere but here. It was almost poetic. Had I been having this conversation back on Earth, I’d have wished to slink out of the universe and crawl under the farthest rock possible. Here I was a reality away from it all, and it was still hitting me full in the face. Sweat beaded down into my shirt as I shifted in the uncomfortable silence that dangled between us. Only the grandfather clock broke the awkwardness by its gentle, rhythmic ticking.
“I did not bring you here to argue about your dismissal, Samuel,” Christina said, voice quiet. Her aged face looked regal. I had no idea where she was from. Or how old she was. Rumor was she’d been here longer than anyone. “That time is past. You could have done this on your own, yet did not. You have our thanks.”
I slumped back into the chair. The aged steel groaned in protest. “Yeah,” I said. My mouth felt like sand. “Not a lot of people have the skills to piss in my face and call it gratitude. That’s style. How about you take your thanks—”
“Be quiet,” Christina said. The words came out clipped and precise, with a weight of authority behind it, a tone of someone used to being obeyed without question. It worked well. The words tumbling from my mouth choked off. She leveled a cold stare at me. “This is our problem now. You may proceed with your life.”
I thought of the pile of empty plastic bottles growing like mold beside my sink and wanted to hit something.
“Well, good,” I said, nodding and pushing out of the ancient chair. It gave a high-pitched squeal as I rose. “As long as it’s being handled, I guess that’s what matters. I’m sure that Alissa or Kseniya or someone will make short work of the problem. God, even Francis. I’d start at Ben’s house and—”
“I’m assigning Daniel to the problem at hand.”
I slapped my palms down on the back of the olive drab chair, fingers clawing at the material. “Intern Daniel? Danny? He’s got more pimples than real cases.”
“He’ll do.”
“Hell no,” I said, thrusting one shaking finger at her. She regarded it with a raised eyebrow, implacable marble and ice. “That’s… he’s not ready. You can’t just leave this in amateur hands. Now you’re just trying to piss me off, right?”
“Minor EDEs, Samuel. Daniel’s ready to prove himself. This is information gathering, not fighting a war. You know procedure. He’ll learn what there is to know, bring it back and we’ll assess.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are not here to debate this with me. Need I remind you that in the many years I’ve held this position, I’ve never misjudged a threat. That distinction belongs to you. I know what I’m doing. Daniel will get a chance to use his eyes and ears a little, to stretch his mind. There’s been a dearth of activity of late. A blessing in some ways, though I haven’t been able to send him out to finalize his training due to it. This lets me work around that particular requirement a fraction.”
Daniel. I rubbed at the back of my head and bit back the harsh words bubbling up within me. The Intern. The guy I wouldn’t trust to have my back. I stared at her steel eyes, my gut roiling.
“Those demons hunted her for a month. Something is holding their leash.”
She sighed, what little patience she’d gathered for this meeting bleeding away fast. “Which should clue you in on how this plays out. Were they even middling powers, a month would be twenty-nine days too long to find someone in this city. Her brother dabbled in something he shouldn’t have and these lesser creatures got free. Nonetheless, we will duly investigate and eliminate as we always do.”
“You don’t know what it’s like out there,” I said, voice quiet. “You’ve been in here too long, Christina.”
“I was out recently, Samuel,” Christina said dryly. She rose from her desk and straightened her jacket as she stepped around the enormous desk. I wondered if her side had a different time zone, given how far away it was. Her boots echoed as she strode to the door and opened it for me, polite and businesslike. “I saw that musical with Travolta. With the blonde.”
I stared “Come on. You don’t mean Grease?”
“For sure.”
“That was the seventies!”
She shrugged, and actually smiled at me. Oddly enough, it made her look far younger than her years. She shooed at me with one hand. I stepped back out into the hall, past her guards. “Wasn’t long ago. We’ll be handling the big questions from here on out, but I need one answered before you go.”
I crossed my arms. There was a reason I’d been called down.
“Like what?”
“What’s your professional reading on Kate? Is there anything strange about her? Anything at all that will help in this? Something that might change my mind about assigning Daniel?”
My mouth went dry. All the little worries came flooding up. I opened my mouth to let them spill out, but hesitated. A whisper in the back of my mind urged me to keep it to myself. How serious were they taking this? Putting Intern Daniel on this? Sure, he was just to gather information, but what if the EDEs attacked again? Anger flooded my veins. Did they not trust my judgment? Hadn’t I proven that I’d make the right choice even in the face of the most personal of consequences?
No, screw that. I was going to help Kate no matter what. This time, the OFC was going to help me, not the other way around. They were the Watson to my Sherlock. No, I was going to personally make sure she didn’t wind up like…
The anger evaporated.
“Not a thing,” I said.
The door rattled closed.
A sigh escaped my lips as I let my shoulders slump. Two sets of eyes regarded me in stoic silence, unsympathetic.
I wandered back up the main hall, muttering under my breath. I found Kate and Daniel off against one wall, just beyond the graveyard-neat rows of cubicles, sitting on lunchroom tables that looked like they could have come right out of an elementary school from the eighties. She was nursing a disposable cup of black sludge, fingers curled around it like a talisman, purse resting just within her reach. Daniel was gesturing with half of a bagel slathered with cream cheese as I approached behind her. I watched as two others snatched up their paper plates of microwaved burritos and retreated to their felt-walled sanctuaries without making eye contact.
Awesome.
“So, everything has to come through that door, right?” Kate said. She spun the cup in her hand in a slow ritual, watching as the foul concoction within rippled. “Anything not already created anyway.”
Daniel nodded. I noted his gaze wandered everywhere but to Kate’s face. “Every night. Um. Water. Food. Fuel for the generators. Quite the undertaking.”
“That’s fascinating, Mr. Wizard,” I said. “A word, Danny? Can we huddle and discuss strategy?”
We pulled off to the side. I glanced at Kate to make sure she wasn’t listening. She was. I pulled Daniel another dozen feet away and down below a cubicle wall. “Keep an eye on her.”
“That’s my job,” he said, rather proud. Kids, I thought. He’s a glorified babysitter and proud of it. “I just found out
. It’s almost like being promoted. Gathering information and watching—”
I snapped fingers in front of his face. “Really watch her. She’s… off. She takes to this like a redneck to mud. She’s barely blinked at EDEs, magic and the whole travel between universes stuff. It’s just… odd.”
“I puked my first time through.” Less proud.
“You and me both, kid. She’s excited at having her world view rocked. Maybe she’s some sort of new age adrenaline junkie. She could just be open to new things.” I met his eyes with a level look. “Being this open usually means she’d be into all sorts of kooky things like pyramid schemes or drinking unpasteurized milk and she seems pretty level.”
We both rose above the cubicle wall at the same time and watched her. She was staring back at us. I waved. She waved back.
“Um, are you saying you think—”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a one bedroom apartment up in her head. Like seventy percent sure. I’m just saying it’s weird, but being cool isn’t an indicator of evil. Be alert, man.”
The intern swallowed and nodded. I clapped him on the shoulder, and we wandered our way back to Kate. Her eyebrows raised in question, but I waved a dismissive hand.
“So, Grand Poobah,” she said. “What’s the…” Kate trailed off with a wince and pinched at the bridge of her nose with a thready sigh. “Ugh. I don’t suppose this universe has ice?”
A tremble of unease rippled across the surface of my inner calm. Now that I’d resolved to help Kate, I was feeling… well, not sanguine, but focused. I shared a slow look with Daniel. The intern took a shuffling step back.
“Headache?” I asked in a quiet voice.
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing at one temple with enough friction to start a fire. The young woman sighed and threw up her hand in defeat. “I get them sometimes. Stress, mostly.”
“Uh, how long have you had them?” Daniel asked. His fingers played across the knot of his tie.
