The Heartless (The Sublime Electricity Book #2)

by Pavel Kornev

  "Take a seat, Viscount!" he demanded, lowering down in his armchair. "You can't escape fate! No one can, Viscount, not you, and not me."

  "Your words do not inspire confidence in the future."

  The illustrious man laughed:

  "Viscount, nothing bad will happen to you. I promise. I just wanna have a chat."

  "What for? What if I don't want to know anything?"

  "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life on the run? Are you counting on making it to Zurich? An empty hope! You'll be caught and disemboweled. These people are accustomed to getting what's theirs."

  "These people?" I snorted. "Are you talking about yourself?"

  "No, the Convent," the old man said weightily. "They think you have all the information they need. I have no idea how you'd ever be able to convince them otherwise." The Duke arrived at a bad mental state and pointed to the door. "Leave, you no longer interest me! Leave, but know this – you won't live to see sunup!"

  I didn't move an inch.

  Duke Talm made several loud sighs, then placed a hand behind his back and started pacing the room.

  "I ordered you brought here, thinking that you were in possession of our secret. But Emile was bluffing! Curses! No one knew how to bluff like him! He bamboozled us all! We were hunting for nothing, just a gift he gave his illegitimate daughter! You may go, Viscount. I was doing this out of respect for the memory of your grandfather, but if you don't want my help – leave right now!"

  I shook my head.

  "It's raining out, and I don't have an umbrella."

  "Would you like one? I've got plenty."

  "I'd rather wait it out," I answered, suspecting that any attempt on my part to leave this room would lead to nothing but more trouble.

  "Wise decision," the old man said with a strange look on his face. "But swear to keep our conversation secret."

  "You just take me at my word?"

  "Why not?" the manor owner shrugged. "After all, revealing it will bring you no good, just more trouble."

  "Good," I promised. "I'll hold my tongue."

  "I'm counting on your good sense, Viscount," Duke Talm sighed, lowering down into the armchair. He then suddenly asked: "What do you know about the fallen?"

  "Strange question," I snorted. "The same things as everyone, I suppose."

  "Considering your father's views, I strongly doubt that," the illustrious man said with a shake of his head. "You'd be surprised, Viscount, how paltry the average person's knowledge of the history of our world can be. Even the educated public often cannot boast of particular erudition when it comes to the events of our recent past. The reductionists are more concerned with the future. They do not understand that the future doesn't exist yet, that it is completely dependent not only on the present, but also on by-gone times. To be more accurate, on how our society thinks of those times!"

  I looked at the window with sorrow. The rain there was pouring down. Lightning was flashing, and the trees in the garden were bending under the gusts of wind.

  "So then, what do you know about the fallen?" Duke Talm repeated his question.

  "Which of the generally accepted points of view would you like me to parrot off?" I shrugged. "The Christians say the fallen were divine punishment, sent down to us for killing the Savior. Everyone else thinks that, after the resurrection of the Savior from the cross, the Creator ceased caring for this world, and the fallen simply descended to earth in order to set up shop and rule."

  The illustrious man nodded, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

  "The history of our world, Viscount, was written in the epoch of the Renaissance and consists of omissions, confusions and obvious lies. 'Pious lies,' or so thought the first reductionists. At that time, they were already anticipating the upcoming changes and were preparing the ground for them."

  "I have a hard time believing in a conspiracy of that magnitude."

  "There was no conspiracy, it's just that a few like-minded individuals, the brightest minds of their times, were laying the foundations for a grandiose falsification. As I’ve already said, the average person doesn't know much history. It's always been like that. But the fallen... The fallen burnt cities, turned humans into pillars of salt, and caused rivers and seas to evaporate. They frightened us. And no one understood the motivation for their actions."

  "Humanity's punishment for its sins?"

  "But what about forgiveness?" the old man parried. "And if it is a punishment, where's the divine hand of the Great Flood? All scholars speak of the oppressions suffered under the fallen, yet none of the authors is capable of explaining just how humanity developed and grew over the course of its history. Perhaps the fallen weren't such bad shepherds for our lost herd after all."

  "Or maybe they simply couldn't bear the temptation and yearned for power?"

  Duke Talm melted into a satisfied smile.

  "That's right!" he confirmed. "The path of the Most High is unknowable. After the crucifixion of his son, his mercy left this world. And only his heavenly host remained to hold back the underworld. They came down to earth, created Atlantis, their indestructible bulwark, and started the struggle against the forces of evil! They destroyed the darkness everywhere they could reach it, but the people simply couldn’t understand why these heavenly emissaries were burning their cities. They did not realize that darkness reigned there, that devils and witches had enslaved the minds of men and were preparing to spread their influence like gangrene throughout a body. There's only one treatment for such an ailment – cauterization by red-hot iron! But the fallen didn't explain anything to anyone. For long centuries, they did nothing to intervene in daily life, just protected humanity from infernal creatures. The Christians weren't always persecuted by them. But everything changes. And one day, the fallen also changed. Their essence became corrupted. The angels of the Lord, protectors of humanity, considered themselves the powerful leaders of this world. No one can say the exact date when their fall to sin was completed, but the fact remains – they became the fallen."

  "Quite a bold point of view," I noted neutrally, thinking over what I'd heard in agitation.

  "Everything started to change at the beginning of this millennium. The more profoundly the fallen were overcome by their thirst for power, the less attention they paid to the fight against the natives of the underworld. As contemporary written sources bear out, people simply found it impossible to live with all the witches, werebeasts, vampires and malefics about, so the church tried to remedy the situation. An inquisition was launched."

  I smiled involuntarily.

  "Yes, yes!" the illustrious man nodded. "An inquisition. The bogeyman of our current enlightened society. Though it was over the top, they started cleansing the cities and villages of evil-doers and their allies. The fallen thought it an encroachment on their power. Religion was then forbidden. The Christians bore persecutions even harsher than those at the very dawn of the church. The fallen became like we remember them. They finally were no better than the underworld natives and did not scorn making deals with them. They sold human beings like cattle."

  "I do not understand the need for this excursion through history," I admitted.

  Duke Talm smiled:

  "The fallen became evil, yet the only thing keeping hell itself from invading our world was their power. They hindered humanity, disfigured it but, at the same time, protected it from an incomparably greater evil: death itself."

  I had an idea of where the conversation would go from there, but still I sat stone-faced, not showing any emotion.

  The illustrious man picked up the light bulb from the armrest. It was still lit. He shifted his gaze to the chandelier under the ceiling and sighed.

  "At that time, it seemed unacceptable to us," he sighed a little while later. "We were young and thirsted for freedom. And we got it. Yes we did..."

  "Are you talking about the uprising?" I asked directly.

  "The uprising was just the tip of the iceberg," Duke Talm said with a
n unhappy smile. "I am not authorized to tell you everything, but we received a weapon against the fallen. The power of science and sublime electricity helped us cast off their loathsome yoke, and ever since then, we’ve kept our secret. Would you like to know why?"

  "Power," I supposed. "Otherwise, it would be impossible to get the provinces to submit."

  "Oh, yes!" the illustrious man smiled. "We taught the little local power brokers a lesson, depriving them of their protection against the underworld! And not even a month later, they were crawling to us on their hands and knees, recognizing Clement as Emperor."

  I crossed my arms on my chest and asked:

  "What does this story have to do with our situation? And who is this 'we' you keep mentioning?"

  "Everything in due time," the Duke assured me. "Everything was wonderful while Clement was in good health. Nature had awarded him a resilient constitution, but his only daughter died in childbirth. And her only daughter, the Emperor’s granddaughter, was discovered to have a heart defect while she was still a baby. That laid him low. He burnt up in bitterness in a matter of days. And then Emile expressed the desire to occupy the throne. 'Brother succeeds brother, what's so strange about that?' he asked us."

  "Am I to understand that the widowed Empress was against it?"

  "Not only her," said the Duke, growing gloomy. "A rift grew in the old guard. Some of us supposed we should just let it run its course, others demanded we support Emile. He was one of us, and the Empress was not. But there was no unity. We did not have time to come to a decision."

  "Then grandfather pulled the trump card from his sleeve..."

  "Emile went all in. He promised to publicize our secret if we didn't support his claim to the throne. He threatened to destroy everything we achieved!"

  "And so you did away with him?" I guessed. "There was no African flu?"

  "Not at all!" the illustrious man objected. "We obeyed him, because he knew all our deepest fears."

  "Then what went wrong?"

  "Someone must have talked," the manor owner shrugged. "The flu was raging that year. Sudden deaths didn't surprise anyone. Former advisers of Clement had their whole families die. There was nothing we could do to change it."

  "Why were you not arrested?"

  "Well, we weren't just some mere aristocratic club!" the Duke laughed. "When we first started, just one bad word about the authorities could lead to disemboweling and quartering, then resurrection just to be disemboweled again and burned alive. We always took certain precautionary measures. Only the most prudent survived. Those who never relaxed for many years of calm life."

  "Paranoiacs," I said, knowing fully well what kind of people I was dealing with. They’d been following me, the illegitimate grandson of a former associate ever since he’d died fifteen years ago, after all!

  "We knew that Emile hid the documents in a safe place. We could not allow them to fall into the wrong hands. And it wasn't even a matter of power. The very survival of the human race is at stake. We are the only force stopping all hell from breaking loose. Us alone. And we aren't getting any younger. What’s more, the Empress must know something about us from her dead husband. She is still searching for the traces of our society. We could not risk accepting new members. We got old."

  "But what did Emile Rie know about you?" I asked directly.

  "We defeated the fallen with the help of science, but that which one genius invents, sooner or later, will be invented by another," the Duke said, slowly and full of sorrow, looking out the window. "I am not strong in technical details. All these electromagnetic waves and frequencies are just a dark forest to me. We still have reliable people in the Sublime Electricity movement. We provide them with money, they repair the equipment. Emile knew everything. People, how it worked, the frequency, the code, the locations of the transmitters. If that information were to get out, destroying the network would be no trouble at all."

  "And what about asking the Empress for protection?"

  "None of us have gotten better with time," Duke Talm smiled sadly. "Victoria thinks us her enemies. She'd sooner destroy everything than trust the purity of our intentions."

  "But why?" I asked. "Why did you tell me this? I knew nothing about your affairs, so what the devil?"

  "I think you have the right to know why this is all happening."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Duke Talm turned away to the window, then sighed:

  "Emile was my friend, Viscount. I should have talked him out of that adventure, I should have done everything in my power, but I didn't even try. I wanted to see him on the throne, old fool! And in the end, it all flew straight to hell. We carry on living through our descendants, Viscount. You are Emile's only living descendant, so in some measure you are all that remains of him."

  I caught a quick glance from the man toward the window and gave an unwilling shudder.

  "Allow me to express doubt in the sincerity of your words, Duncan."

  "Dear Leopold, the very fact that you are still alive is better confirmation of my sincerity than any assurance I could give you."

  But I didn't believe it. I felt the echoes of distant fears, and I didn't like that one bit. The old man was afraid of something. He was expecting something, and it definitely was not the return of the detective sergeant he'd sent out for the armored vehicle. Also, it was hard to square what he was now saying with the electric chair I'd once had the distinct pleasure of being strapped into.

  I looked at the window, and cast my gaze into the spacious hall. The rich decoration aroused envious respect. The composed mahogany parquet was shining with a fresh coat of wax, and a certain desolation could be sensed in with that. No balls had been held here for a very, very long time.

  Duke Talm sensed the doubts plaguing my mind and suggested:

  "Wine?"

  "No, thank you," I refused, tossing a mint sugar drop into my mouth. I didn't say anything more.

  "Alright!" said the manor owner with a hand wave. "I admit, I wasn't being totally honest with you. But do you understand what kind of responsibility I have on my shoulders? For the last half century, the only thing keeping infernal creatures from humanity was our society! The engineers of the Sublime Electricity were just servicing the equipment, changing the worn-out parts, and providing power. They do not know what it is all doing, and so it must remain. The only thing keeping us from being revealed is the fact that none of our enemies knows what exactly to look for. Vampires now cower in the very farthest corners of the Empire. Witches have degenerated into illiterate herbalists, malefics suffer from migraines and can only cast the most primitive of spells! Werebeasts are confined to life in the provincial backwoods, and all other underworld filth doesn't even have a modicum of the powers they once did! And how were we rewarded for that? We were driven into hiding, not only from the Convent's bloodhounds, but also from the police and Imperial Guard secret service. We were not ready for the present crisis. It caught us completely by surprise! So, Leopold, I beg you – please be understanding of our old-timer follies!"

  I just shook my head:

  "In your words, I see only contradiction. The Empire is great – I will not dispute that, but what about the rest of the world? Who is protecting them from the forces of the underworld? The Aztecs, Egypt, the Celestial Kingdom, Persia – how are we to deal with them?"

  "Our equipment covers the entire globe," the manor owner answered calmly. "Inside the Empire, it is stronger. Its effect grows weaker the farther you get from our borders, but the fact remains – we are protecting humanity. In its entirety."

  "How noble!"

  "Nobility has nothing to do with it," the illustrious man shook his head. "That is more of a side effect. Otherwise, the Emperor of the Celestial Kingdom would have long ago sworn his allegiance to us as a vassal."

  "And the others?"

  "Viscount, you see to the root of the problem, as always!" the old man smiled bitterly. "A very significant number of the fallen survived the Nigh
t of the Titanium Blades. And though they were deprived of their powers, they maintained their former influence over the rulers of the Egyptians and Aztecs. Many thirst for the return of the old order, Viscount. Very many."

  "The Convent?"

  "The Convent is not homogeneous in its aims. They’re just a group of the Empire’s most notorious sons of bitches, joined together for survival. But, as soon as they achieve success, they'll start tearing each other to pieces. If we back down, rivers of blood will flow. That cannot be allowed! Under no circumstances!"

  "Why am I here, Duncan?" I asked again, though I was afraid to hear the honest answer.

  Duke Talm got out of his chair and walked to the window. There was a raging storm outside. Rain covered the window. Lightning flashed.

  "Simple coincidence and nothing more," he finally said. "We're all playthings in the hands of fate."

  "Sounds ominous."

  "And it is," the manor owner confirmed. "You wouldn't have survived the night, Viscount. Despite all your success, it was not fated."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Protection from the forces of evil built on electromagnetic radiation," the Duke said, "but sometimes, it doesn't work very well. Look out the window, Viscount! Lightning! Lightning strikes create disturbances. The equipment turns off due to surges, wires break, electricity goes out. In such weather, malefics are not limited in their abilities. It would be no work for them to send hellhounds or a Wild Hunt out after their intended victim. You have nowhere to hide from these diabolic beasts."

  "And you brought me to your home..."

  "Actually, this is the home of one of my deceased friends," Duke Talm smiled. "There's nothing to tie it to my name."

  "That hardly clears anything up."

  "A demon is being sent for you, and I can stop it. Fate itself brought us together."

  The Duke's voice sounded so solemn in the empty room, I felt ants crawling up my spine.

  "And if you cannot manage?" I asked.

  "Then this will all end here and now," Duncan answered with an unconcerned tone.