“Ezra, did you kill Russ?” I asked laying my head on Silverstein’s shoulder.
Ezra looked shocked for a moment.
“No. Madmar tortured him to death wherever his real body was being stored. He told me he was being held in a plastic tube somewhere and was being used to control the facsimile of himself. It’s how I knew what had happened to him at all,” Ezra explained after a moment’s hesitation.
“Would you have?” I asked.
“I was pretty mad. I thought he’d betrayed us. I don’t think I could have, especially knowing what I know now,” Ezra said sadly.
Ezra’s words filled me with equal parts horror and relief.
Chapter 10
Midtown, Port Montaigne — Barton Projects
May 22nd, 2164 — 35 years prior to shutdown.
Golgotha
The Midtown shuttle ground to a halt at the corner. After a moment, the doors slid to the side allowing riders to exit to the street, feet clacking against expanded metal stairs. Vance waited for the folks ahead of him to exit, then checked his mobile. It had been a year since he’d been to the area and little had changed.
“This is the last stop in midtown,” the shuttle driver said over the intercom.
“Okay,” Vance said, knowing the driver couldn’t hear him from behind the bullet-proof glass.
He stepped off, the shuttle barely waiting for his feet to touch the pavement before speeding away. The urban renewal program had ground to a halt following the recent mayor’s removal from office, funding drying up alongside her reputation. Concrete forms stood unfinished, without doors or windows to complete them along one side of the road. The older buildings that had been spared the wrecking ball stood along the other side, each an illegal tenement or shelter for the indigent. A few had power, the residents probably pooling their resources for the luxury.
Vance walked purposefully toward the old market row past darkened neon signs, security fenced storefronts, and ancient vehicles abandoned by the roadside. The street was quiet enough one could hear the current traveling the power lines overhead. Trains didn’t even run through midtown anymore, and the foot traffic tended to avoid all but the most direct routes to public transit. Walking off the beaten path was dangerous after nightfall.
Fortunately, his destination was in sight and he slowed his pace to take a look around. He circled the block and came at it through an alley. Vance looked up at the rooftops and the windows that were not boarded up, but everything seemed clear. He walked up to the only obvious entry and looked for a doorbell or some sign he was in the right spot.
The exterior of the building was old, appearing to have been painted over several times. Once, it was probably a commercial property that housed several businesses, all linked together by a single storefront and a hallway. Once, it probably possessed a lot of the local personality, showcasing independent merchants and helped to create a sense of community to the neighborhood. Those days were long past.
The door to the place was locked and lacked any discernible keyhole, an odd sort of security measure. Vance backed up to the edge of the sidewalk and looked up at the plain brick building to see if there was a window that hadn’t been painted over, or some other means of egress. He decided to wait, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. About halfway through his third drag, there was a sound from behind the front door, a steel bolt sliding to one side.
The door opened slightly, allowing half of a man standing to the interior to be seen. “You must be Vance,” the man said, beckoning for him to step in off the street.
Vance looked in either direction along the empty street before heading inside. The hallway was cramped, bookshelves taking up the shoulder room along both sides. The tile floor was ancient, showing signs of having been stripped and waxed hundreds of times. Vance watched the thin man with greying hair secure the door behind him, sliding a thick bolt into place.
“Are you Cal?” Vance asked, looking from the door to the books on the shelves.
“I am. We are glad you could make it.”
Cal was dressed in simple clothes decades out of style, and as old as the building. His shoes and pants were well worn and faded, but still serviceable.
“What do you do when you have to go out?” Vance asked, gesturing to the door.
“Oh, I don’t go out. People might recognize me,” Cal replied turning on the hall light.
Vance looked at Cal, sure he’d seen him somewhere, but where exactly eluded him for the moment. He followed Cal along through what looked to be a private library of sorts, full of books he’d never seen, each with irregular binding. It was as though every book within had been bound by hand and arranged in a way that only the owner of the collection understood.
“Interesting collection you have here,” Vance remarked, passing his hand over the spines of several books.
“Yep,” Cal said, pausing for a moment to look around wistfully.
“Your message was pretty vague. Maybe you can tell me what this is about?” Vance asked.
“This way, please,” Cal replied, leading the way to a parlor in the rear.
There were booths with round tables, like one would see in a diner, and a small kitchen. A pair of elderly gentleman worked in the kitchen while a trio of individuals waited for them at table set up in the center of the room. There was a man younger than Cal, a woman in her 50s, and an individual wearing a thick robe with many veils. Cal pulled out a chair for Vance and then sat down himself.
“Alright, I’m here, tell me what this about,” Vance said, sitting down and smoothing out his jacket.
“This is about our most august assembly, of which, we are all part,” Cal began.
Vance bowed his head and smiled.
“Not what you expected is it?” Cal stated without emotion.
“It is rare for us to see each other, and I doubt this many of us have ever been in a room together, speaking face to face. We each value our privacy, the state of which, integral to keeping out of each other’s way,” Vance whispered harshly, somewhat angry.
Cal turned to the others at the table and gestured to the individual wearing robes and veils. “You could have obscured yourself as our colleague has, come with your precious privacy in mind,” Cal replied, his tone growing cold by the last word.
“I doubt the veils and robes have anything to do with privacy,” Vance muttered.
Vance looked around at the table exchanging a glance with each person sitting there. He could guess who the man and woman likely were by their dress and demeanor, but Cal and the person wearing robes and veils were a mystery. He knew they were probably like him, still out in the world trying to push an agenda as opposed to dwelling strictly in the shadows.
“Is this where you tell me what this is about?” Vance said at last, breaking the silence.
Cal let out a long sigh, then nodded. “We’ve reviewed your plans for the future, what little you have revealed to the gathered minds of our fellowship.”
“And?” Vance replied.
“We would like you to reconsider some of what you intend to do. There are some of us who would be adversely...” Cal paused, considering his words carefully.
“Some of us have collected vast wealth in our lifetimes. They like the power they have and delight in watching others starve when they have more than they could ever spend or use,” Vance stated plainly.
“That is certainly one way of looking at it. Others would contend that they use their influence for the good of mankind, acting as stewards and guardians,” Cal rebutted, clasping his hands together.
It was then that Vance remembered where he’d seen Cal before. Not that he had any expectations to begin with, but he had a feeling the gathering was going to take a hard left. Vance turned and looked at the woman, holding out his hand to her. “What would
you say, Cerise? Of everyone here, you know more about what I’m trying to do than anyone. Your own agenda is not so different.”
“You would ask us to believe you could safely level the ocean floor, filling in the vast trenches and leveling reefs so that the whole of it was a flat plain. Nature contradicts hubris relative to the scale one harbors such ambition,” the woman replied placing her hand on the table as if voting her conscience.
The table grew silent again, everyone but the veiled individual growing very still. The individual wearing the robes shifted forward in their seat, and began to speak with a voice little more than a cracking hiss. It was as if each word was coming from an old vinyl record player. Gloved hands with wrists obscured by white silken wrappings gesticulated as it talked.
“We are not all here to voice our concern with your plan, Vance Uroboros. I have come to not lend you aid, or contribute, only to voice my support. Not everyone among us would deny you the rights granted by our unique condition. Do as thou wilt.”
Vance looked on somewhat startled, as Cal turned to face the individual in the cowl and veil with a harsh demeanor. The others at the table sat back in their chairs, but the moment was interrupted by the two elderly cooks bringing food to the table. They ate together in silence, the veiled individual taking only meat with a gloved hand and a silver fork.
“This meeting was a mistake,” Cal announced.
“I disagree,” the younger man at the table replied, his words permeated by a thick accent.
“I do not see Vance diminished in his desires, or likely to change the course of his affairs,” Cal said, speaking for a moment as if Vance wasn’t there.
“Ah, but he must ask himself many questions now. If there are those that support him in voice, but will not lend him a limb to that end, he must know there could be the opposite amongst our number as well,” the young man stated, turning his dark eyes toward Vance.
“Bring it, Kasra” Vance snapped angrily.
“You know my name? Then you must know all about me as well?” Kasra replied, reveling in the horror afflicting Cal and Cerise as they came to realize whom they were sharing a table with.
“You’re a thug, and a murderer that uses our ‘condition’ to enrich himself,” Vance replied, taking a last bite of his ham steak.
“You speak as if what you intend to do is so noble, and that it isn’t feeding some needy part of you. You would pass judgment on the whole world, make decisions for other people that are not yours to make. You and I are no different,” Kasra stated plainly, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
“Cal pointed out that there were some who looked upon what they had as a stewardship or responsibility. We all have talents we don’t understand, but mine are singular, specific to given endeavors. I can’t deny my own capacity to calculate outcomes any more than you’ve denied your capacity for violence and depravity,” Vance replied, scowling.
“I’ve seen some of what you’re proposing to do. This is much more than merely calculating outcomes. You are trying to create outcomes, control things that are perhaps not meant to be controlled,” Kasra said, looking lasciviously at Cerise.
Cerise looked away, and down at her food. Kasra chuckled, turning his gaze toward the individual wearing cowl and veil, his eyes slowly moving down to the gloved hand resting on the table. He smiled wickedly and leaned in close trying to peer through the veil to the eyes he assumed lay somewhere beneath.
“You are the only one whose identity I have yet to deduce. All I can see so far is that you are a woman by the dainty way you wield a fork. Since we are all now acquainted, perhaps you could tell us your name?” Kasra cooed, his words dripping with mock sweetness.
“I am called Golgotha...” the veiled individual hissed, lunging at Kasra.
The lights flickered and died as Golgotha snatched Kasra from his seat. There was the discernible sound of bones and joints popping as Golgotha’s limbs rapidly elongated and her stature grew. In the fading light, Kasra drew a long curved blade in his defense, stabbing wildly at his attacker. Cerise cried out as the table went crashing to the floor in the struggle. Vance wrapped an arm around Cal and pulled him away quickly, trying to avoid the battle entirely. He took a blow to the face for his trouble, tumbling to the ground.
The lights blinked out completely as Kasra’s screams were cut off by the sound of wet meat being separated from bone and something spattering across the tile floor. Cal blindly pulled a handgun from his waistband, but it was quickly dashed from his hand as Golgotha rose to her full height, towering over him in what dim light remained. Cerise fled for the kitchen, sprinting past the stunned cooks to where she hoped a back exit awaited her. She was disappointed to find only a freezer door. She sank to the floor resigned, looking back toward the parlor.
Cal closed his eyes, waiting for the end to come, grasping at the simple cross around his neck. Instead, the parlor grew quiet, only the sound of something large shuffling in the shadows breaking the silence. The lights flickered back on, fluorescent bulbs blinking slightly as if they’d been cold for days. Golgotha put what remained of Kasra in a sack and slung it over her shoulder. She paused to look down mournfully at her robes and veils now tattered from the struggle. Then, she turned and plodded slowly to where Vance lay rubbing a bruise across his brow. He looked up at the lanky almost eight foot tall monster looming over him, her features thankfully still obscured by her garments.
“Am I to go into the sack as well?” Vance asked, doing his best to stand.
“Not yet. You haven’t become the threat to our assembly Kasra had,” Golgotha rasped, her now massive clawed hand closing into a fist inches from Vance’s face.
Vance had encountered others like himself, one on one out in the world. He had heard rumors of monsters mythological and technological among them, but assumed such storied were merely to add mystique and intrigue to what they did. Kasra was right about one thing, this meeting would provoke all sorts of thought and introspection.
“What will you do with Kasra?” Vance asked, watching Golgotha step past him toward the door.
“I’ll eat him, surely,” Golgotha replied, the malevolence in her voice replaced with mirth.
Vance smiled slightly, watching her duck under the threshold of the door and disappear into the darkness of the library beyond. Once the exterior door could be heard to open and close, Cal cursed loudly, holding his face in his hand. Vance walked past him to the kitchen where Cerise and the cooks huddled together behind a prep table.
“She’s gone. You’re safe now,” Vance said, offering Cerise his hand.
“She? I thought we were all going to die,” Cerise said, her hands still shaking.
“You think she will really devour poor Kasra?” Cal asked, stepping into the kitchen.
Vance chuckled. “For sure, daintily, and with a fork. No, she had her reasons for taking Kasra’s corpse, but she was definitely joking when she said that.”
“How could you tell?” Cerise asked, still trying to steady herself.
“If I wandered the world making evil individuals amongst us vanish in the night, I’d probably have a sense of humor about it,” Vance stated, walking out to the parlor.
“What she’s done is against one of our few laws,” Cal said looking around at the mess in his parlor.
“You are welcome to try and hold her accountable. If Kasra is any indication, you’ve got to be pretty corrupt to attract her attention,” Cerise remarked, looking at the long arc of spattered blood across the ceiling.
“We have rules for a reason,” Cal said, still trying to drive the point home.
“Are you still angry with the sky, too, Cal?” Vance teased.
“Some of us grow wiser as we grow older. You’d do well to remember that,” Cal retorted sharply, pushing a mop bucket out from the kitchen.
“How did you pull us all in for this meeting? How does a creature like Golgotha and scum like Kasra end up at the same table?” Vance asked, meeting Cal’s gaze.
“It was all done through my own sponsor. It looks like my meeting was just a front for some necessary action on the part of our benefactors,” Cal remarked sadly.
“Maybe that, and to send a message,” Vance said looking down at the pool of blood.
They all pitched in to clean up the mess and sanitize the crime scene. Cal grumbled for the duration while Cerise seemed to grow younger and younger as time went on, until she appeared to be a woman in her 20s instead of her 50s. They walked to the entrance and walked out into the street, Cal closing the door behind them, almost in a huff.
“Walk me to my car?” Cerise asked.
“I was going to ask for a lift,” Vance replied embarrassed, with a smile.
Cerise laughed and beckoned for him to walk beside her.
“I’m new. I was only there because Cal was the one who brought me into the assembly. I know little of the rules,” Cerise said, fishing around for a cigarette in her purse.
“We aren’t supposed to talk about it in the open, like right here on the street. Is that why you made yourself look old? Everyone knows who you are,” Vance joked, lighting two of his own cigarettes and handing her one.
“Oh?”
“For some reason, there are few women among us. That’s a little known fact that everyone seems to know. Besides yourself and Golgotha, I only know one other woman. That fact is probably why we aren’t allowed to fraternize with each other,” Vance explained, stopping to look over his shoulder.
“Well, Cal has been a perfect gentleman,” Cerise stated, blushing.
“I’m sure, it’s probably like having a priest as a sponsor,” Vance said with a wink.
“It is somewhat, you know? I would think that we would have little use for faith, given our situation. Cal is very devout.”
Uroboros Saga Book 2 Page 15
