by Sara Beaman
Alice inhales and opens her eyes. Adam releases her hand.
“So?” I ask. “Can you make it work?”
Alice nods. “I believe so, yes.”
“Are you certain?” Julian says.
“I don’t care if she’s certain,” I say. “Nothing’s for certain. Let’s go.”
Alice nods and holds her arm out for us to touch.
“That’s it, then, I suppose,” Julian says, taking a step backward. “Good luck, all of you.”
“What?” I say. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“There’s too much I need to manage here,” he says. “Too many responsibilities. Not to mention the danger I’d pose to all of—“
“That’s stupid,” I say, cutting him off.
“You saw what became of Mirabel when she died,” Julian says.
“So?” I say. “It’s not like we’re planning on killing you.”
Julian laughs, sounding more exhausted than amused.
“It’s your decision,” Adam says. “I’m not going to argue with you.”
“I find it hard to believe you have nothing to say about it,” Julian says.
Adam’s jaw tenses up.
“Mnemosyne wanted this to happen,” he says. “She did this to you for a reason. I think she thinks she can control what’s in your blood, whatever it is. And since you’re sealed—“
“How can you tell?” Julian asks.
Adam looks away.
“I see,” Julian says. “Of course. You can read my thoughts.”
“She’s going to use you however she can,” Adam says. “And you won’t be able to stop her.”
Julian looks at his feet.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing Julian’s hand. “Let’s go. Enough thinking about it.”
“I—I ought to say goodbye to—I need to let my staff know I’m leaving,” he stammers.
I look at Adam.
He sighs nasally. “Five minutes,” he says.
Julian nods and hurries away, into the hallways, closing the door behind him.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask Adam.
“Some friends of mine, a Himeran and an Anatean, own a place in Hiroshima,” he says, rubbing his forehead. “I lived there for a while, back in ninety-eight.”
“Are you sure we can trust them?” I ask.
“Positive,” he says.
“Adam,” I say, “do you remember anything about what happened back in Romania?”
He shakes his head. “No. Nothing. But I will, in time.”
“How?” I ask. “If the memories didn’t have the chance to form…”
“I’m a Psychometrist,” he says.
Alice nods to herself.
“Uh, what do you mean?” I ask.
“I have my clothing,” he says. “I have my skin and hair and blood. I can read the memories off those.”
“So we’ll find out what happened?”
“It’ll take a while, but yes.”
“You were right,” I say.
“About what?”
“About Aya.”
He makes a face. “I was worried about that.”
“There’s something else you should know,” I say.
“What’s that?”
“Jennifer’s dead.”
He nods slowly and sighs.
“That’s it?” I ask him. “That’s your reaction?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess it is.”
Despite all logic, I start to get angry on her behalf. “Really?”
“Kate, if Julian doesn’t botch this for us, we’re looking at a chance for freedom,” he says. “That’s the only thing I can think about right now.”
I frown and nod. I’m not happy about it, but it makes sense.
“Do you think it’ll work?” I ask.
“You got the amulet?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Then yes.” A slight smile plays across his lips. “Yes, I think it will.”
“What will we do next?” I ask.
He laughs. “I have no fucking idea.”
A few moments later, Julian opens the door to the garage and walks over to meet us. He forces a smile, but it’s obvious he’s been crying.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Don’t worry about me, my dear.”
“Ready?” Alice asks.
I nod.
I place my hand on Alice’s shoulder. Adam does the same, placing his hand on top of mine. Julian brings a fist to his lips, then slowly reaches out to Alice, opening his fingers and placing them gingerly against her wrist.
And then we’re gone.
Summons
Haruko Schuster
Present day, present time
SpiraCom building, top floor. 5AM. -CC
I push my way through the revolving doors and hustle through the atrium. Both of the glass-walled elevators are waiting on this floor, doors open. I step inside the closest of the two and push the fourth-floor button. The glass doors slide shut, closing me in. Bland classical music plays from a speaker in the ceiling.
The elevator stops; the doors open. I step out onto the slubby grey carpet and walk over to the second set of elevators, also waiting, open and ready. I get in. The circle around the thirtieth-floor button lights up on its own. The doors close.
I cup my hand in front of my mouth and smell my breath. An alcoholic tang fills my nostrils. I rustle around in my pockets for a piece of gum, unwrap it, and pop it in my mouth, tossing the wrapper on the ground. I look up into the mirrored ceiling and run my fingers through my hair. Not much of an improvement. Not much to do about how shitty I look.
Whatever. I did what he told me to do: I showed up. That’s more than enough, in my estimation.
It’s a long ride to the top of the tower—too long for me to keep certain thoughts from surfacing. Mostly thoughts about Adam and Kate, where they are right now, whether they’re alive or dead. And thoughts about Jennifer. The years of silence. The blood spraying across my right arm as Markham’s shot exploded through her chest. And Desmond. What he’d think about me rushing here tonight, like a dog, to comply with Carlyle’s summons. I’ve always hated Carlyle, but never so much as I do right now.
The elevator doors open, revealing the waiting area in front of Mirabel’s office: two neat rows of leather-upholstered chairs, well-kept potted trees, abstract paintings. It’s empty, just like the rest of the building. I walk up to the door to her office and knock twice. Carlyle lets me in and, without a word, closes the door behind me.
The office is dark and sparsely furnished. A vase of dead sunflowers sits on a low coffee table. The far wall of windows looks out not at the Atlanta skyline, but instead at a forest. It seems to be moving beneath us, as if the office was soaring above it. The windows aren’t windows at all, I guess—they’re floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall video screens. Carlyle sits down behind Mirabel’s desk and spins her chair around to watch what’s happening. I stand beside the desk, arms folded.
“Romania,” Carlyle says. “This is live.”
“Is it a plane, or…?”
“A helicopter. One of ours.”
On the horizon a dome appears, blacker than black, its surface roiling like the sun. It gets larger and larger as the helicopter draws closer.
“What is that?” I ask.
“It’s Mnemosyne’s enclave,” Carlyle says.
My chest feels tight. Are Kate and Adam inside that thing?
“Tell me, Ms. Schuster,” Carlyle says. “Have you heard of the Mutable?”
I press my lips together.
“I can’t believe Desmond never spoke to you about it,” Carlyle says, looking at me. “From what I understand, he was trying to keep it contained. Trying to prevent something like this from happening. Wasn’t he?”
“I’m not in a position to comment on that,” I mutter.
“I apologize for bringing up a sore subject,” Carlyle says. “I know his death must have been hard on
you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying.
“Mirabel is dead,” Carlyle says. “Mnemosyne tells me Adam Radcliffe shot her in the back.”
“Mnemosyne?” I ask. “You spoke to Mnemosyne?”
“She’s downstairs right now,” Carlyle says. “In the server room.”
“What?”
“Let me explain,” Carlyle says, leaning back in Mirabel’s chair, steepling his fingers. “You see, Mirabel has been slipping out of my fingers for some time now. Neglecting her duties to her company. After she made that offer to Himeros I knew I had to find someone to shore up the SpiraCom systems.”
I’m so flabbergasted I can barely get words out to reply. “So you—you got Mnemosyne?”
He nods, eyes fixed on the screen.
“I’m just not sure what to make of that, sir,” I say.
On screen, the helicopter stops moving and hovers at a fixed point. The video grows clearer, sharper. Two other helicopters float in the distance, beyond the black dome.
“That’s why I’ve brought you here,” Carlyle continues. “I need your assistance.”
“I see,” I say, though now I’m more confused than ever.
“What can you tell me about Katherine Avery?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “She was one of Mirabel’s doubles, I guess—“
“I’ve met plenty of Mirabel’s doubles,” Carlyle interjects. “Ms. Avery is quite different.”
“You met her?”
“Just briefly, a few hours ago, right before she went to retrieve Dr. Radcliffe from Romania,” Carlyle says. “Now Mnemosyne tells me she’s gone missing.”
“Inside that thing?” I ask, pointing to the screen.
Carlyle shakes his head. “No. Apparently they made it out alive. But what else can you tell me about Katherine?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “She’s young. Kind of smart and stupid at the same time.”
Carlyle shakes his head and frowns.
“I really don’t know her that well,” I say. “She used to work at SpiraCom, though. You could probably look her up in the system.”
“That won’t tell me what I want to know,” Carlyle says.
“What do you want to know?”
“What does she value?” Carlyle asks. “What does she want?”
I shrug. “She seems like kind of an anarchist. She hates authority. Most of all, she hates this company.”
Carlyle nods thoughtfully.
“Oh. And she’s in love with Julian’s son. Adam Radcliffe.”
Carlyle snorts.
“So they’re really both alive?” I ask.
“That’s what my data suggests.”
I sigh. On screen, the darkly radiant surface of the dome begins to shimmer with red static. A ward—the largest one I’ve ever seen.
“Ms. Schuster, let me lay things out for you,” Carlyle says, turning the chair around, leaning on the desk. “Both Mnemosyne and I would like to see Ms. Avery again as soon as possible, but for very different reasons.”
“Mnemosyne wants her pet project back, I’m sure.”
“Yes. And I want the freedom to hand the company over to someone else. Permanently. And to terminate my arrangement with Mnemosyne.”
I nod slowly, unsure what to say or what to think.
“I want you to leave town immediately,” Carlyle says. “Find Katherine. Figure out what it would take to get her back here. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to her.”
“She’ll want to dismantle the company,” I tell him.
Carlyle smiles. “I’m not so sure.”
I don’t bother to argue with him, though I’m certain he’s wrong.
“Find her before Mnemosyne does,” Carlyle says.
He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a thin, wide smartphone. He hands it to me.
“I’ll be in touch,” he says. “Keep me updated.”
I nod. The phone goes in my back pocket.
“You’re dismissed,” he says.
I turn around and start walking towards the door.
“Oh, and Haruko?”
“Sir?”
“I’d start by looking in Japan.”
Glossary
Amulet - a defensive artifact, mitigating or outright preventing the use of a given strain or strains against the possessor.
Artifact - an object imbued with the power of a strain or strains. Artifacts can perform only specific functions; they do not grant their bearers full access to any strain or strains. An example of an artifact is the cards Julian Radcliffe painted to allow their holders to navigate his subterranean labyrinth. These cards utilize compulsion and illusion, reading the layout of the maze around the user and guiding them to the depicted destination.
Avery, Katherine “Kate” - Revenant (Mnemonic). A former employee of Spira Communications. Kate ran afoul of Mirabel Radcliffe in 2004 and was drafted into the Program. However, Mirabel was unable to finish Kate’s transformation into a full double, thanks to the timely and unintended intervention of Adam Radcliffe, Aya Markham, and Haruko Schuster. Thinking Kate was Mirabel - or at least a finished double, Adam shot Kate through the chest. He chose to provide her with his blood in order to save her life, turning her into a dhampyr. Kate’s dhampyric existence lasted only a few days, during which she accompanied Adam to the Warden facility at Red Hook. Once inside the underground facility, the insane Desmond Schuster assaulted Adam, Kate and Haruko in an attempt to destroy Mnemosyne, whose head the group had been transporting to Red Hook for safe keeping. Kate utilized the head to channel Mnemosyne’s power and seize control of a pack of ghouls Mirabel had sent to the facility to intercept Adam and the others. Kate directed the ghouls to murder Desmond. Finally, Kate restored Mnemosyne’s head onto her body, fully resurrecting the progenitor. Mnemosyne proceeded to murder and initiate Kate as a Mnemonic revenant.
Benefactor - a common, polite term for the revenant responsible for another revenant’s initiation. Frequently used in lieu of the more archaic and possessive terms of ‘mother’ or ‘father’.
Blood - the organic vital fluid common to all animals. Blood originating from humans bears some mystical potency for revenants. While it is not necessary for a revenant to drink blood in order to survive, revenants find the allure of blood nearly irresistible, particularly if they have gone for a long period of time without feeding. Revenants who go an extended period of time without blood suffer from the withering, a weakness which varies depending on House. Revenant bodies constantly metabolize their blood by some mechanism that is not presently understood; however, increased activity (either mental or physical) will result in a more rapid loss of blood. A human who ingests revenant blood will heal their injuries at the same pace as a non-Coventinian revenant..
Blood Ascetic - a revenant who has forsaken feeding for personal, ethical or religious reasons. The majority of blood ascetics suffer from the withering most or all of the time, as their bodies are perpetually denied blood. For this reason certain Houses and Lines regard blood asceticism as dangerous and taboo.
Breathers - an old, extremely pejorative term for mortal humans.
Clairsentience - Strain (Mnemonic/Thalian). Both a passive and active sensory strain, allowing a revenant to project their senses into the surrounding area. With great skill, the Clairsentient’s senses and mind adapt to perceiving everything in their general area at all times without effort or focus. Possessive noun: Clairsentient.
Clairsentient - see Clairsentience.
Compulsion - Strain (Mnemonic). An active mental strain allowing a revenant to dominate another being by force of will, issuing commands that the target must obey. While most commands are auditory and therefore linguistic, written or mental commands may also be issued, the latter potentially taking the form of pictorial instructions. Possessive noun: Compulsive.
Compulsive - see Compulsion.
Coventinian - a revenant member of the House of Coventina. Coventinian strains deal wi
th enhancement or alteration of the physical form, such as great strength and speed, or shapeshifting. Coventinians are universally gifted with extraordinary healing powers. Where most revenants will recover from injuries at roughly twenty times the speed of a mortal human, Coventinians heal any injuries in mere seconds, defying physics and biology altogether. Withering: a Coventinian who forsakes or is denied blood will cease to heal all physical damage, including the minor insults of friction and general wear and tear to their person. In extreme cases, withered Coventinian bodies break down completely over a prolonged period, until they are incapable of movement and their exposed heart suffers the same attrition as the rest of their bodies. By this period the Coventinian is almost certainly incapable of conscious thought, and eventually even the exposed heart will be destroyed.
Dhampyr - a mortal human who depends on revenant blood for their survival, most commonly as a result of being mortally wounded and ingesting revenant blood as a means to survive said wound. Any dependent mortal must ingest roughly one ounce of revenant blood every twenty-four hours or their wounds will reopen or their system will otherwise fail, depending on the nature of the dependency.
Double - a product of the Program, a process by which Mirabel Radcliffe transforms mortal, human women into perfect clones of herself.
Dream - Strain (Mnemonic). This strain enables a Somniac some level of control over the alternate state of existence known as the Oneiroxis, or dream-world. While any sapient mind can find itself in the Oneiroxis, most do so only during brief flashes of lucidity in the midst of otherwise normal dreams. Trained lucid dreamers can occupy the Oneiroxis persistently while asleep, although doing so require focus, and they will have no control over their environment. Even a lucidly dreaming revenant cannot use their strains with the dream-world unless they possess they are a Somniac or possess a Dream emulator. Possessive noun: Somniac.
