by Sara Beaman
I do my best to look underwhelmed.
Haruko and Julian stoop down to place Markham’s body on the damp ground.
“Julian, Ms. Schuster, would you kindly carry Mr. Markham down into the crypt?” Mnemosyne asks.
“Oh hell no,” says Haruko. “I’m not going down there.”
“I assure you, it’s quite safe,” Mnemosyne says.
“Yeah, well, I’m not your fucking manservant,” Haruko says. “You’ve gotten everything you want. What about your end of the deal?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Mnemosyne says.
“What about Adam?” Haruko says. “What happened to Adam?”
My stomach clenches.
“Nothing,” Mnemosyne says. “Adam is alive.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Mnemosyne smiles at me. “Now Katherine. Did you honestly think I would go back on my word?”
“How can you be sure he’s alive?” Julian asks.
“All you need to know is that I’m sure that he is,” Mnemosyne says.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. “How are we going to get him back?”
“Don’t fret,” she says. “I have a plan, and I am quite certain it will work.”
“What is it?” I ask, impatience leaking into my tone.
“The operation will be two-fold,” she says. “First we will divert her attention. And then we will attack.”
“Awesome,” I say, glaring at her. “Thanks for the specifics.”
“We will discuss the plan in more detail come nightfall,” she says. “But it is late. Unless you would prefer to spend the day in my labyrinth—“
“No, that’s all right,” Haruko says. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
***
I spend the day alone in Adam’s suite. I don’t want to sleep—I don’t want to see Richard or Mnemosyne any more than I have to, and it seems like either or both of them are pretty much guaranteed to intrude on my dreams.
I pull a book off one of the shelves in the sitting room, one of several with Adam’s mortal name on the spine. I sit down on one of the couches and read the whole thing word for word. It details several case studies of patients who’d suffered severe head trauma. Each of them was left with a unique and puzzling form of amnesia or agnosia. Surprisingly, I find the book interesting enough to hold my attention. Adam isn’t a bad writer, though his prose is pretty spare.
I wonder why he left all his books here. Why not bring them to his house? I know he’s dead now, and retired, but doesn’t he care about all the hard work he did while he was alive? Come to think of it, I’m not sure where he lives. I remember him telling me how he left Julian’s estate and went to live with Haruko in her apartment in Atlanta, then moved into a hotel on his own. And then, how a Mnemonic with a suitcase full of cash appeared out of nowhere. Aside from that, I have no idea what he’s been up to for the last eighteen years.
I look over at the pencil portrait of him resting on the bedside table. Julian said there was one woman in his past he really loved—an artist, a Himeran. But Adam never mentioned her, not even in passing.
God. Do I really know him at all?
That’s stupid. Of course I do. I know more about him than I probably ought to. More than he might want me to.
I think of Jennifer, of how badly she seemed to understand him. He must have been pretty good at presenting her with a narrow version of himself. Good at making her see what he thought she’d like. She didn’t even think he could shoot a gun.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m relieved she’s dead. And that makes me a horrible person. But right now I’m too full of angst and dread to care.
***
A half hour before sunset, I hear a knock on the door to the suite. I get up and open it. Haruko is standing on the other side.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hi,” I say. “Do you, uh, want to come in?”
“No,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving.”
“What? Leaving? For where?”
“I’m going back to Atlanta,” she says. “You know. To do my job. I got an email from Carlyle. He knows pretty much everything that happened, but he isn’t angry at me, I guess. He wants me to come back.”
“And you believe him?”
She shrugs.
“Don’t you think this could be a trap?” I ask.
“If he wanted to kill me or throw me in prison, oh well. He’ll probably figure out a way to do it anyway.”
“So that’s it?” I ask. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“What about Adam?” My voice strains. “What about Mirabel?”
“It sounds like Mnemosyne has things handled,” she says. “I doubt you’ll need me for anything.”
Tears well up in my eyes. I wipe them away, embarrassed.
“Whatever,” I say. “Yeah. I’m sure we’ll manage.”
“Come on, Kate,” she says. “Don’t be like that.”
“I thought we were friends,” I mutter.
“Aren’t we?”
“I guess not.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Is throwing my life away for Adam Radcliffe a prerequisite for being your friend?”
“I—it’s not—that’s not what—“
“You don’t need me anymore,” she says. “You have Mnemosyne to help you.”
“That’s why you’re leaving, isn’t it! You’re abandoning me because you don’t want to work with her!”
“Well, that’s a big part of it, yeah,” she says. “She’s not your friend, Kate. She’s no one’s friend. I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to trust her.”
“I am not! And I don’t!”
“Yes you do,” she says. “Which means you’re as good as gone. And I’m not going to watch her chip away at you and rebuild you into some hollow tool.”
I shake my head, fighting the urge to cry.
She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a business card.
“Here,” she says, handing it to me. “Call me when you’re done with her. Or when she’s done with you, more likely.”
I look at the card blankly. All it has on it is a phone number.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” she says. “I just can’t watch what happened to Adam happen to you.”
I don’t say anything.
“All right, well, I guess that’s all I had to say,” she says.
“Fine,” I say, spitting the word out. “Have a nice trip.”
She shakes her head.
“Bye,” I say.
“Goodbye, Kate.”
Leverage
At seven-thirty Julian comes to collect me from Adam’s suite. We walk through the labyrinth to the doors that lead outside, and from there through the garden and the rolling hills to the line of trees. Once again, just like last night, the path before us is straight and clear. After just a short walk through the forest, we reach the stone doors to the sepulcher. They’re open.
“We didn’t leave the door ajar last night,” I ask, “did we?”
“No.”
“So we’re not alone out here,” I say.
Julian says nothing.
We make our way down the staircase spiraling around the perimeter of the sepulcher. Wondering who got here ahead of us, I look downward, squinting trying to see the clearing. From what I can tell, it’s empty. Just like last night, as we set foot on the bare earth at the bottom of the pit, Mnemosyne becomes visible. Beside her are three other revenants: Richard and two women I don’t recognize, a tall, androgynous-looking blonde and a petite girl with a brown ponytail.
“Katherine. Julian.” Mnemosyne smiles. “Thank you for being so prompt. Allow me to introduce our guests—Janice, of the house of Coventina, and Alice, of the house of Nemesis.”
Janice, the blonde, grins. Alice offers a forced smile.
“It’s a pleasure,” Janice says.
“Nice to me
et you,” I say, smiling awkwardly. “I’m Kate.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Julian says, not bothering to conceal his ennui.
Richard watches me with a slight smile that spreads as soon as I make eye contact. I look away.
“So,” I say. “What are we going to do now?”
“We will discuss that soon enough,” Mnemosyne says. “First, I have an important announcement to make. I met with Christopher Carlyle.”
“You met with who?” Julian laughs nervously.
“I realize this comes as a surprise. I myself was surprised at how cordial our meeting was,” Mnemosyne says. “But Carlyle is an intelligent man. He understands the predicament the Wardens are in. He recognizes the need for Spira Communications to continue operations, even as Mirabel may be removed as President and CEO. With this in mind, we have come to an agreement.”
“Certainly you’re joking,” Julian says.
“No,” Mnemosyne says. “I am not. We will assume control of SpiraCom and its network, and we will allow the Watchers of the Americas to continue their operations.”
“Just… business as usual?” Richard asks, dumbfounded.
“Yes,” Mnemosyne says.
He and Julian exchange looks.
“Wait,” I say. “So we’re just replacing Mirabel? Everything will stay exactly the same as it was?”
“In essence,” Mnemosyne says.
I shake my head. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”
“Whyever not?” Mnemosyne asks.
“I can’t believe you’d even ask me that question!”
“Ah,” she says. “I understand. I assure you, Katherine, we’ll discontinue the cloning program you were put through.”
“That’s not nearly enough! None of you understand anything about how SpiraCom really works. Even before they made me a clone, they took my entire life away from me! I couldn’t remember what happened from day to day. They forced me to do things against my will—forced me to hurt innocent people—and I couldn’t even remember that I’d done it! I couldn’t make decisions on my own, and they bugged my apartment, and—and—it was awful!”
“Now Katherine. We can’t let the social lives of a few humans dictate our course of action,” Mnemosyne says.
“Don’t you dare trivialize what I went through! This isn’t just about having a social life—it’s about free will! Before SpiraCom I had a family! I had friends, and relationships, and I could make choices for myself, and I was a human being!”
“Calm down,” says Mnemosyne.
“You think you control me because of what’s going on with Adam?” I say. “Well, think again. You need me for something, I know you do. And if things aren’t going to change over at SpiraCom, I won’t cooperate with you.”
Mnemosyne’s face goes stony. “What makes you think I need you?”
I look over at Richard. He’s still giving me that stupid smirk.
“Richard told me,” I say.
“What?” His eyes widen. “I did no such thing!”
“It matters not,” Mnemosyne says. “What you say is true. I do need you. But I don’t need your cooperation. And I don’t care to hear your opinion on the matter.”
I look down at my feet, gritting my teeth and taking shallow breaths to keep from crying.
“Did you honestly believe you could use your free will as leverage?” Mnemosyne asks. “That was foolish. Even for you.”
I can’t hold it in any longer. Tears start falling. I tense up my whole body, willing myself to stop, but I can’t.
“I must say, Mother, for someone who perceives herself as being completely rational, not a slave to emotion, I’m always amazed at how needlessly cruel you are,” Julian says.
“Be quiet,” Mnemosyne snaps.
For a while everyone is silent. Richard stares at Julian with an inscrutable expression. One of the new girls, Alice, looks at me with the slightest smile.
“If Katherine is finished with her tirade, I will explain the path forward,” Mnemosyne says.
I shrug and look away.
“We will first go to Atlanta,” Mnemosyne says. “Carlyle has a team there, at the SpiraCom building. After Mirabel’s disappearance, it seems she has been using her network remotely to perform some kind of psychic counter-operation against the Wardens. Carlyle’s team has been unable to stop it. They’ve been attempting to break into Mirabel’s server room for days, with no success.”
“Why do you think we’ll be able to get in if they can’t?” I ask.
“The room is protected with several biometric scanners,” Mnemosyne says.
Richard frowns. “But there are any number of Coventinans that are loyal to the Watchers of the Americas. Couldn’t one of them disguise themselves as Mirabel to pass the scan?”
Mnemosyne shakes her head. “They’ve tried that. It worked on all the locks but the last. After conducting a thorough analysis, Carlyle came to the conclusion that the last scanner analyzes the profile of the subject’s blood.”
“So that’s why you need me,” I blurt out. “And that’s why you want Julian here too. The scanner is looking for—“
“That’s enough, Katherine,” Mnemosyne says.
I can’t force out the rest of the sentence, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing on to my next thought. “But what does any of this have to do with Adam?”
Mnemosyne closes her eyes and lets out a sigh through her nose. “I would have gotten to that already if you didn’t insist on interrupting me every other sentence.”
I look at the ground.
“The memories Richard collected for me over the past eight years gave me an excellent idea of how Mirabel’s system works,” she says. “Once we are inside the server room I will go about assuming control of her deep network. I anticipate that she will try to fight me. And that is where the four of you—Katherine, Richard, Alice, and Janice, that is—come in. As soon as we breach the server room Alice will transport all four of you to Romania. You will have to fight Mirabel on your own.”
“That’s the plan?” I ask, flabbergasted.
Mnemosyne gives me a withering look.
“The three of them got their asses handed to them the last time they fought her!” I say. “What the hell am I going to do to change that? I’ve been dead for like a week!”
“Mirabel will be distracted,” Mnemosyne says.
“And?” I ask.
“And what?” Mnemosyne asks.
“That’s it?” I ask. “That’s really the best you can do?”
“As long as she is hiding in the enclave, I can’t attack her remotely,” Mnemosyne says.
“Well then we’re fucked,” I say. “Distracting her is a waste of time! She can split her attention a million different ways. This is stupid.”
Mnemosyne says nothing.
“She’s sending us to our death,” I say, looking at Richard.
He looks at Mnemosyne out of the corners of his eyes. His smile is gone.
“I am doing nothing of the sort,” Mnemosyne says. “I am fully confident that this plan will work.”
“Whatever,” I say. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll go anyway. I hope I die there. I’d rather be dead than be a part of SpiraCom.”
Mnemosyne rolls her eyes. “Very well. Childish theatrics aside, do any of the rest of you have any questions?”
Richard says nothing.
Janice clears her throat. “Is there anything else—anything at all—that might help us improve our odds?” Her voice is smooth and low, like that of a radio personality.
“Split up. One of you attack her from behind while the others provide another distraction,” Mnemosyne says. “Katherine should do it. Yes. Katherine, force her to sleep.”
“Why not, you know, stab her?” Alice asks. “In the back? In the heart?”
“No,” Mnemosyne says. “Do not kill her. I want her alive.”
“Wait,” Richard says. “You… That isn’t what we discussed.”
> “I don’t care,” Mnemosyne says.
“It would be a lot easier just to kill her,” Janice says in a mild tone.
“We’re wasting time with these idle complaints,” Mnemosyne says. “Unless any of you have anything useful to contribute, we should be on our way.”
Richard says, “What about the amulet?”
“What about it?” Mnemosyne snaps.
“It would be useful,” he says.
“Is Mirabel a Warden?” Mnemosyne asks.
“No—“
“Then it’s of no use to you, now is it?”
Richard doesn’t respond. The muscles around his jaw all tense up.
“Alice, take us to Atlanta,” Mnemosyne says. “Now.”
Alice forces a smile.
“The manifestation requires physical contact,” she says. “Please place your hand on my arm. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch me elsewhere.”
Alice extends her right hand out in front of her body, and one by one, each of us place our fingertips against her skin.
***
And then we’re in the SpiraCom atrium.
Christopher Carlyle is sitting on a bench waiting for us, wearing a black suit and a leather trenchcoat. Aside from the clothing, he looks exactly the same as he did in Mirabel’s memories—blonde, boyish, and clean-cut. All-American, like a high school football star. Even in this Matrix getup, he looks like he stepped out of a fucking Norman Rockwell painting.
His brown eyes meet mine. “Good,” he says. “You brought her.”
“Yes,” says Mnemosyne.
“Can she get us inside?” he asks, still looking at me.
“Of course,” Mnemosyne says. “Take us to the server room and I will show you.”
“Excellent,” says Carlyle.
“Hi,” I say, extending a hand. “My name’s Katherine Avery. This might come as a shock, but I’m actually a person, not a piece of software.”
Alice snorts.
“I apologize, Miss Avery,” says Carlyle, shaking my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Mister Carlyle,” I say with a saccharine smile.
“It’s so strange,” he says, shaking his head a little.
“What is?”
“Hearing a different voice come out of that face,” he says.
