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No Sanctuary

Page 20

by Z. J. Cannon


  Those big words sounded strange coming from those soft baby lips. “If you’re confused by such a simple thing, I’m surprised you’ve gotten as far as you have in life.” I waved a hand to indicate his office. “It seems simple enough to me. You and this Engstrom are burning lives to line your pockets. I’m here to stop you.”

  “First of all, you know even less about Engstrom than I thought, if you think money is what he’s after. But even aside from that, something doesn’t add up about you. The Summer Court gave us some interesting information on you. They can be very helpful, when they feel like it. And a friend of mine has pieced together the rest—at least if her theories are correct. Kieran. That’s an Irish name, isn’t it? It used to be spelled with a C. Ciarán.” The change in intonation was subtle, but I could hear the difference.

  It had been centuries since I had heard anyone but one of the fae call me by my original name. “There’s only one name I’m interested in right now. Engstrom.”

  “The Summer Court didn’t give us much. A handful of aliases you’ve used over the years, and a summary of the problems you’ve caused for the fae. Impressive, by the way. I would ask you for tips, if I thought there was any chance you would help. We’ve been trying to get out from under their thumb for… well, I’m sure it wouldn’t seem like such a long time to you. But we can’t all be immortal. At least not yet.” He looked me up and down. A greedy light shone in his eyes.

  I tried not to remember standing underneath Arkanica headquarters, surrounded by fully conscious but paralyzed fae who had been transformed into living fuel generators, as a woman who worked for Arkanica laid out their plans for me. They had wanted to use my blood to find the secret of immortality, so they could offer it to the world for a price. I stayed seated on Ellison’s couch, even though everything in me was screaming at me to stand up, back away, get as far from Ellison as possible.

  I had the upper hand here. He was trapped. Helpless. Weaponless, or he would have tried something already. I gave JD’s watch another spin.

  My voice, when I managed to speak, was harsh. Rough. He could probably hear my fear in it, which wasn’t going to help me get what I needed. “What’s your point?”

  “They also told us what you’ve been doing with your immortal life. Only the broad strokes—playing hero, saving humans, getting yourself killed in the process. But that was enough for that friend I mentioned to put two and two together. You’ve been something of a project of hers for a long time—that is, if you are who she thinks you are. Ciarán.” It was hard to tell, but I was almost certain he had said my name the old way again. “The forgotten folk hero. Immortalized—pardon the pun—in a handful of old drinking songs no one sings anymore, and not much else. Even back when the songs were written, it seems people were divided on whether to revere you or drive a stake through your heart. You really are a fascinating creature. It’s no wonder she’s spent so much time digging up those old legends, trying to find references to you. She just about fell over when I told her the Summer Court had found you for us.”

  Some human had been reading up on me? That was news to me—both that I had been the object of someone’s attention before I had become the public enemy du jour, and that there was anything out there for her to find. It wasn’t welcome news. I was just as happy to let my attempts at heroism fade into obscurity. It was better than letting the humans start to suspect that legends were real and immortals walked among them. Well, immortal, singular, since the others like me were all long dead. Hence why I preferred to keep a low profile.

  “Which brings me to my question,” said Ellison. “The Summer Court told us from the beginning to watch out for you. They said you would stop us if you ever found out what we were doing. They even went to quite a bit of trouble to misdirect you—which backfired spectacularly, by the way. One more reason for us to be rid of them. But from what they’ve said and what my friend has learned, it seems to me that you should be fighting for our side.”

  “I would ask why,” I said, “but I don’t really care. Engstrom. Where is he?”

  “You do know the kind of damage the climate crisis is already doing to the planet, don’t you? And whatever the politicians might want to tell you, it’s not going away. Not without our help.”

  “I’ve already gotten the recruitment speech. You must have seen what I did to the last people who tried it on me. Answer my question.”

  “And yet you’re out to destroy humanity’s best solution to what may well be the worst crisis we’ve ever faced. And for what? To protect the fae? Your father’s assassins tried to kill you when you were six years old, or so our Summer contacts tell it. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father, but he was a bucket of sunshine compared to yours. And these are the people you want to save?”

  The more I listened to him, and looked at that baby face of his, the more I felt every one of my seven hundred years. “You can drop the act. It’s just the two of us in here. I’m not one of your investors, and despite whatever this misguided friend might have told you, I’m not a prospective employee, either. I don’t need any grand speeches or thirty-second soundbites. You and I both know what this is about. It’s about this.” I pointed to his TV. “And this.” The basketball hoop. “And this.” The Boston skyline, stretching out below him. “The fae gave you an opportunity for unprecedented control over the world’s fuel supply, and all the money and power that come with it. You took it. Whatever you may say in your marketing materials, this isn’t about saving the world.”

  Ellison shook his head. “This isn’t the story I give the investors. I tell them about owning the market, and earning political influence, and getting in on the ground floor of a new industry. I talk to them about seizing the future with both hands before the world leaves them behind, and how the future we’re offering them is a cash cow just waiting for them to give it a squeeze. That’s what they want to hear. I get it. Who wouldn’t want all that? And as fairy tales go, it has the advantage of being true. I can give them all I’ve promised and more.” He leaned in toward me, hands on his thighs. His bulging eyes glowed with an inner fervor. “But there are true stories, and then there’s the truth. That’s what I’m giving you. I’m opening up to you because I see a kindred spirit in you. You’re not the only hero in this room. The only difference between us is that you’ve never thought big enough.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? I suppose I should be impressed. I thought you didn’t have enough of a conscience left to need those lies.” I stood up. Just sitting that close to the man who had ordered and funded everything I had seen underneath Arkanica headquarters made me feel like spiders were dancing across my skin. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But don’t bring me into it. Were you hoping I’d pat you on the head and tell you what a good job you’d done? You’re lucky I’m not planning to do to you what your scientists did to the fae I rescued.”

  “Do you think your good deeds don’t count if you’re not suffering? That you’re not really helping anyone if what you’re doing earns you a big office and a great view instead of a shallow grave?” He shook his head slowly. He almost looked like he pitied me. “I admit, I used to be the person you think I am. I only cared about money and the influence it could buy me. Mind you, I’m not ashamed of that. What is there to be ashamed of in playing the game well enough to win? But that was before Eng— before the fae came to us.”

  I hadn’t missed that slip of his. “What about Engstrom?”

  “They showed me there was more to life than a game I had already won,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. I couldn’t tell whether he was avoiding my question, or whether he was just that in love with the sound of his own voice. “And yes, what they offered me will give me more money and influence than Nexegence ever did. But so could a lot of other things. All of which would be a lot easier than going up against an entire world full of terrifying magical beings, let alone trying to convince my own species they’re real without tu
rning myself and my company into a laughingstock. I was already on top of the world; I could have done anything I wanted. But I chose this. If I had wanted to take the easy way, I could have closed my eyes and kept right on sailing the sinking ship that is this planet, instead of risking my life and my reputation trying to bail it out.”

  “I met a friend of yours the other day. He used to be your fixer. Do you want to try to convince me the things he told me were lies?” I shook my head. “On second thought, don’t bother. We’ve wasted too much time on this already. You know what I want. Engstrom. And I’m beginning to think you’re trying awfully hard to make me forget about him.”

  “You’re talking about Dwight Conley, I take it? I already know about your little visit. You really shouldn’t have gone to him. He was never comfortable with what I asked him to do for me. He certainly wasn’t the kind of villain you picture when you look at me. He didn’t deserve what your interference got him.”

  I forced down a surge of guilt. For all I knew, Ellison hadn’t done anything to him, and was just trying to get a reaction out of me. “Still want to convince me you’re some kind of hero?”

  I expected him to get defensive on me. Maybe give me some kind of speech about how I had as much blood on my hands as he had on his. Maybe bring up what I had done in Hawthorne. Instead, he just shrugged. “You have to be ruthless to get what you want. I’m not going to apologize for that. But I was given an opportunity to turn my skills toward something that would benefit the whole world. What do you think I should have done instead? Gone and volunteered at a soup kitchen? I’ll wear my cold heart like a badge of honor if it stops the world from burning.”

  “In other words, you’ll sacrifice as many lives as you want, without a second of guilt, as long as you can make yourself feel good about the lives you save in the process.” I cast a slow, deliberate look around at the fancy office. “And all this is just a convenient side effect.”

  “You know, I’m beginning to understand why your centuries of effort haven’t gotten you anything but a few dozen deaths and a couple of forgotten songs. Even my assistant understands these things better than you. She intuitively sees how a person’s principles and their drive to succeed don’t have to be in conflict—and how, more often than not, you need one for the sake of the other. I didn’t even have to explain it to her. It’s why I like her so much.”

  “Your assistant locked you in here with me,” I reminded him.

  “Because you gave her a distorted picture of the truth.”

  “Because she saw actual pictures. Have you forgotten the day she got a look at your Arkanica files? She hasn’t.”

  “And did she see the projected reduction in CO2 emissions over the next ten years, if we begin the switch to faelight as a primary fuel source by next year? Has she gotten a look at the latest temperature data from the Arctic, and the ten-year projections if nothing changes? For that matter, has she seen the potential ROI on fuel sources that cost practically nothing to maintain?” His smirk came back. “Yes, yes, I know. Here I am, talking about profit. Call me self-centered if you want. There’s a selfish element to this—I’m not denying it. There won’t be much of a market for tech toys once the world starts to burn in earnest.” He gestured to a display shelf that held the latest Arkanica phones, a set of VR goggles, and a couple of other gadgets I didn’t recognize.

  His smirk faded. Between one second and the next, he went from smarmy human child to deadly serious. That fervent light was back in his eyes. As much as I had wanted to punch that smirk off his face, now I wished it would come back. This version of Ellison was more disturbing.

  “But if you think you’re fighting a cabal of supervillains bent on taking over the world so they can milk it dry, you’re not looking closely enough,” he said. “We’ve told you the truth from the beginning—we’re the ones trying to save it. And if we want to get something for ourselves out of the deal, well, what’s so wrong with that? Don’t you wish you had gotten a little reward for your efforts every once in a while? If you had, I bet you wouldn’t have felt the need to take almost a century off to lick your wounds. Just think of all the people you could have saved in that time. There’s nothing noble about suffering, Kieran—can I call you Kieran? All it does is take you out of the fight that much sooner.”

  He looked at me expectantly. Like maybe he thought I was going to see the error of my ways and come to Jesus right then and there.

  I crossed my arms. “Are you done?”

  “You want a villain? Look in the mirror. Yes, you saved a handful of fae prisoners. The same monsters who spent thousands of years preying on humanity in your corner of the globe, and who would still be doing it if not for the wonders of human technology. Let’s all give you a big round of applause.” He punctuated his words with a mocking clap. “And how many humans did you condemn to death, in exchange for that handful of lives? Do you want to know how much pollution will be released into the atmosphere in the time it takes us to replace those blood sources, even now that I’ve begun demanding a more aggressive approach to acquisition? Or how much the ice caps will shrink? What about how many species will wink out of existence? I do. My people have run the numbers. Every fae that slips through our fingers—in Hawthorne the other day, for example, and don’t think we don’t know you were there—represents thousands of human lives needlessly lost. So much for the champion of humanity. It looks like the songs that called you a monster were right after all.”

  “You’re trying to get a reaction from me. You want me to forget why I’m here, so you can stall me with these pointless arguments until the cavalry shows up to save you. Well, it’s not working. No one is coming, and I haven’t forgotten a thing.” I took a step toward him. “Where is Engstrom?”

  “Or maybe you’ve decided you don’t care about humans. That would certainly explain what you did in Hawthorne.”

  He studied my face. Whatever he saw there, it brought back his smirk. I instantly regretted wishing for its return.

  “But if that’s the case, you could at least have the courage to own it,” he said, “instead of pointing the finger at us. Go ahead—admit that you’d rather make yourself feel good by saving a handful of baby-stealing murderers than run the numbers and make the hard choice. Better yet, admit that after what we humans have done to you, you’d just as soon see us all burn. Hey, there’s no shame in that. I’d probably feel the same way in your position.”

  He took a step of his own, mirroring mine. We were close enough now for me to reach out and grabbed him by the neck if I wanted to. My fingers twitched.

  “All I’m asking is that you do the same thing you insisted I do a minute ago,” he said. “Show some honesty.”

  I took a deep breath. Slowly, I relaxed my fingers. It was harder than I had expected.

  “I let you make your speech,” I said. “Now it’s my turn. Mine is a bit shorter. I’m not going to bother trying to show you the error of your ways. I already know that’s a lost cause. I used to do that kind of thing, early on. All it ever did was give my enemies an easier win. So all I’m going to say is this: if I managed to get to you this quickly, despite how terrified your people are of crossing you, you might want to think about how I did that. And how easily I’ll be able to get Engstrom’s location from you. Then ask yourself whether it’s really worth standing there smirking at me instead of telling me what I want to know.”

  “I don’t need to think about it.” Ellison’s smile changed. I couldn’t pinpoint the shift in his expression, but between one second and the next, he wasn’t smirking anymore. Instead, his half-smile looked sad. “I already know.”

  He took a step, and at first I thought he was going to crash right into me. I brought my arms up and felt for the clasp of JD’s watch, in case this was an attack. But he stepped to the side and started across the room.

  I grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He gave me a withering look. There wasn’t much heart in it. “E
verything you want is right there on my computer.” With his free hand, he pointed to his empty desk. “Or would you rather I try to recite it from memory?”

  I smelled a trick. Also, I didn’t see any computer. But I didn’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. I let go of his arm, and shadowed him as he kept walking. I stayed so close behind him I was sure he could feel my breath on the top of his head.

  He sat down in his leather office chair and put his feet up on the desk. With his smirk gone, the attempt at nonchalance just looked pathetic. “Get on with it,” I demanded.

  He sighed. “For an immortal, you sure are in a hurry. Hasn’t anyone ever told you to stop and smell the roses?”

  “Usually when someone tells me something like that, it’s because they want me with my back turned and paying attention to someone else while they pull out a gun.” I kept my eyes locked on him. “Show me the files. Or is this another attempt at stalling?”

  With another, louder sigh, he put his feet down, rolled his chair up close to his desk, and tapped the metal top. It instantly shimmered with color, transforming into an oversized screen. I had to admit, that was a neat trick.

  With another tap, he opened a folder onscreen. He gestured to the desk with a flourish. “Take a look, if you want proof that I’m on the level. Everything you asked for and more. Never let it be said that I’m not a gracious loser.”

  Chapter 22

  I peered over Ellison’s shoulder, my hands gripping the back of his chair. I still wasn’t ruling out grabbing him by the neck if he decided to make things difficult. But it looked like he wasn’t going to. I scanned the array of subfolders visible on the screen. Experimental data, helpfully broken up by lab site and year. A folder for each of Arkanica’s investors—including a few names that made me blink. And two lists of contacts, human and fae. I opened the first, and found myself staring at a dizzying array of names, phone numbers, and addresses.

 

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