The Edge of Ruin

by Melinda Snodgrass

  “Really?”

  “Honest,” and I crossed my heart.

  “Okay.” Paul dumped the armful of toys into the open suitcase. A few switches were tripped by the rough handling, and lights blinked and there were halfhearted hiccups of sound from the abused toys. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go,” Paul said.

  I zipped shut the case, hefted it, and followed Paul into the hall. There were sounds of drawers closing from the master bedroom. Obviously my father had done his job, but Brent’s mutters of complaint were like a piece of heavy equipment growling nearby. Paul and I went downstairs, and found Pamela in the dining room, loading an antique silver tea set into a suitcase.

  “I don’t want movers packing or handling Great-Grandmother’s tea service,” she said. I nodded.

  “Can I have some milk?” Paul asked.

  Pamela gave him a hug. “Sure, kiddo, you need help?”

  He gave her an offended look. “I’m eight.”

  “Right, go ahead.” She waved him off, then looked at me. “Everything … okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I said and then with greater force and more certainty added, “It is. There’s just one more thing to do.”

  * * *

  It was 3:00 A.M., and the steady drone of the engines had put most of my crew to sleep. I was too tense to sleep. Pamela and Eddie’s story about the creatures supporting the plane had me on edge, so I had the sword drawn and I kept pacing through the fuselage.

  Paul was stretched out across two seats with a blanket tucked around him. Amelia and Brent sat directly behind him. Her head was on his shoulder, and his head was thrown back against the window. I don’t know how she could sleep, because he was snoring like a chain saw. When you added in Eddie’s snores it was a nasal symphony.

  Dagmar, a seasoned traveler, had inserted earplugs. Rudi and Joseph had been soldiers and could sleep anywhere. Grenier was in the galley making a sandwich.

  Estevan and Pamela were playing cards, but her face looked drawn, the muscles in her neck looked like corded steel, and she kept staring out the window at the blackness beyond. I reached out and yanked down the shade.

  “You’ve been looking out that window for three solid hours. Stop it.”

  “But what if they’re out there?”

  “And you watching obsessively is going to help … exactly … how?” Her lips tightened into a thin line. “We’ve got a former navy pilot on the controls. I’m keeping the sword drawn. We’re going to be okay.”

  Grenier came waddling back down the aisle, dropped into one of the commodious leather seats with a grunt, took a bite of his sandwich, and then brushed bread crumbs off the mound of his belly. “The sword does seem to confuse them,” he offered.

  My iPhone rang. I checked the number and felt a smile curving my lips. I had a feeling it was a really ugly one. “I think you deserve to hear this,” I said to my sister, and I hit the speaker icon.

  “What the hell have you done?” It was Drew, and he sounded furious and frightened.

  “Hi, Drew, so good of you to call.”

  “I’ve got an—”

  “A call on your note. Yes, I know. I bought your building, and all the outstanding paper. All you have to do is pay off your loan … Oh, but wait, your company is experiencing some cash flow problems, isn’t it? I wonder why?”

  “Why?” came Sandringham’s question. I knew what he meant, but I decided to draw out the torture. I was beginning to understand why cats played with mice.

  “Why the financial problems, or why as a more general question to the universe? You blew it, Drew.” I couldn’t maintain the light, bantering tone. “You threw in with my enemies, and you overpromised on what you could deliver. They’re not going to be happy with you, and I’m really not happy with you. You should have taken into account that I control one of the great fortunes of the world before you decided to screw with me and mine. And just so you know, right now my only interest is in using that money to fuck you. I’ve wrecked your company and I’m throwing you out in the street. Sort of a nice symmetry, don’t you think? It’s what you did to me. At least I won’t put you in the hospital. Your new friends will take care of that. ’Bye, Drew, have fun being broke and hunted.”

  “Wait, Ri—”

  I cut the connection and put the phone back in my pocket. Pamela was staring at me in shock.

  “Richard, who are you?” she asked.

  “The man he was destined to be,” Grenier said.

  Hateful? I thought. I excused myself and retreated to the aft of the plane, where Kenntnis had a private office. Closing the door behind me, I sat down behind the desk and tried to analyze what I was feeling. Proud. Nervous that I was feeling proud. Guilty because maybe I shouldn’t feel proud.

  I stared at the empty chair across the desk. In November Kenntnis had sat where I was now sitting and I had occupied the other chair. Kenntnis had discovered that Rhiana was not completely human, and I’d been called into the discussion of what to do with her. It had become a debate between Kenntnis and me about our roles. I had told him I had to be in charge. Little had I known how prophetic that would be. I had decreed that Rhiana wouldn’t be harmed. Because of that decision on my part, Kenntnis was gone, and I was well and truly in charge.

  And proud.

  THIRTY-NINE

  RICHARD

  Vertebrae popped as I stretched my arms up over my head, and I realized I felt at peace, like I had come home. That surprised me. My first year in New Mexico I had found it brown, dusty, and ugly. I thought the Hispanics were making fun of me with their lilting accents, just putting it on for the gringo. The mañana attitude drove me crazy with my uptight, rush, rush, rush East Coast style. My intention was to work a few years with APD and then look for a job someplace civilized. But years had gone by and I hadn’t sent out the résumés, and that afternoon in Washington, as I had tried to figure out where to go and what to do, I imagined I smelled the sharp pungent bite of roasting Hatch green chilies, and the spice and evergreen aroma of burning piñon crackling in kiva fireplaces.

  I turned my back to the window and sat on the windowsill and critically examined the office. There was room in the far corner for my piano. I’d have Jeannette arrange for movers. Actually, I’d have her clear everything out of my apartment; I was never going back there.

  I was just settling into the chair behind the desk when Cross slouched in. He was stuffing the final enormous bite of a cheese Danish into his mouth. “Well, you finally look like you belong here. You should have dumped Daddy a long time ago,” he mumbled around the wad of dough.

  “First, I was the dumpee, not the dumper, and secondly, we don’t talk about this. Ever. Got it?”

  He gave me a mock salute. I leaned over and depressed the intercom. “Jeannette, a couple of things. Figure out what time and day it is in Tokyo. I need to talk to Fujasaki, and please close up my apartment. Bring the books, music, and piano here, and you can store everything else.”

  “Yes, sir. Ms. Reitlingen is here. Should I send her in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I pointed at the opening door. “See how Dagmar asks if she can be admitted. Why don’t you do that? Why do you just walk in?”

  Cross shrugged. “I’m a god. And Kenntnis let me.”

  “You can use the second reason to keep doing it,” I said.

  “Was ist loss?” Dagmar said. Then shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve been talking with Peter. What’s—”

  “I’ve got a question.”

  “Let’s see if I’ve got an answer,” my COO said. “I’m bright, my dear, but amazing as it might be, I don’t know everything. Nearly—”

  “Cut the burble.” She gave me an impish smile and subsided. “Why did a building this size only house eighty-four people?”

  “Give the boy a gold star,” Cross said. “I’ve been wondering when you’d notice. Kenntnis left it up to me to decide if and when you were ready for the real tour. When you didn’t fall for the daddy trick, I
figured you just might be bright enough to see past the obvious, and tough, smart, and brave enough to survive, at least for a little while. So now you get all the secret schnaba.”

  “Does that include a decoder ring and a secret handshake?” I asked.

  “You got a fucking sword, what more do you want?”

  So with Cross in the lead we began a tour of the Lumina building. On the fifth floor someone was typing on a computer keyboard, a sound like rain pattering on plastic. The heater kicked on, the rush of air overrunning the sound of the typing.

  “This building is a fortress,” Cross said. “A place for us to ride out bad times. It wouldn’t be comfortable, and you can forget about privacy, but we can house three thousand people in this building.” The heater shut off, and the sound of the lone typist returned.

  “Where do they sleep?” Dagmar asked.

  “Air mattresses,” Cross answered.

  I shook my head. “No, bunk beds. We might be able to house more people that way. If it comes to that. I’m still hopeful that Eddie and the other scientists are going to find a way to free Kenntnis,” I said while Dagmar scribbled in her Palm.

  “The rest of the floors are pretty much the same, so we can skip them,” Cross said and led us back to the elevators. When we reached the lobby, Joseph was waiting. He nodded a greeting.

  “Show Richard the security setup,” Cross ordered.

  The chief of security crossed to the circular reception desk, murmured an apology to Paulette, and reached down by her right leg. “Sorry, not getting fresh,” Joseph said.

  “Oh, please, get fresh,” Paulette replied. She had a lilting French accent. The long lashes brushed the tops of her high cheekbones, and the tip of her tongue lightly touched her lower lip.

  Joseph grinned at me. “Does that count as sexual harassment?”

  “Do you want me to stop her?” I asked.

  “Hell, no,” Joseph said, and we all shared a laugh.

  There was a loud click followed by the quiet hum of motors, and heavy steel panels came rolling up out of the floors and sealed the windows. Within seconds the lobby was plunged into darkness. Halogen spots in the ceiling switched on.

  “These can be keyed from a number of locations in the building,” Joseph said. “Your office, my office, the penthouse, and on the third floor.”

  Cross piped up. “You know how we’re tucked in among the boulders. Well, anyplace we don’t have big rocks to protect us, steel and concrete barricades have come up to keep any mad bombers away.”

  “Every window is sealed?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Joseph said. “But there are pumps and scrubbers to pull in outside air.”

  “And what happens if someone cuts the power? It’s going to get pretty dark and hot or cold, depending,” I said. The thought of being sealed in here, away from the touch and sight of the sun, had my claustrophobia jumping.

  “The roof, the south wall, and the west wall are covered with solar panels. We also have battery storage for night and during cloudy weather as well as diesel generators,” Joseph concluded.

  “So we should go down there now,” Cross said.

  Back in the elevator Cross touched the button for the swimming pool. One level below the garage. The elevator doors opened, and the light from the halogen spots danced on the gently swaying surface of the pool.

  “Not just a swimming pool … water storage. There used to be big cisterns down here,” Cross said. “But Kenntnis knew you liked to swim, so he had this built. He figured we could store the water this way.”

  I was stunned and oddly warmed by the thought that Kenntnis had put such effort into my comfort. “When did this get built? I’ve only known you people for three months.”

  “Right after Thanksgiving. It only took a couple of weeks. Enough money and you can get anything done.”

  Dagmar walked to the edge of the pool, leaned down, and trailed her fingers in the water. She stood up and shook the droplets of water off her fingers. “I have to ask, if this is meant to be a water source, aren’t the chemicals going to be a problem?”

  “The water purification system is in the next room.”

  “How do we replenish the water if the city’s water system goes down?” I asked.

  “We’ll get to that. Let’s finish the building first,” Cross said.

  He led us through the room holding the purification system. The next room housed the backup generators. Cross pointed at another door. “That room has stockpiles of diesel, gasoline, and replacement solar panels. Do you want to see it?”

  “I better. Let’s make sure they’re actually there.”

  “Taking that definition of assumption a little too much to heart, aren’t you?” Cross asked.

  “No,” I said.

  The room did indeed contain the promised fuel and panels. We traipsed back past the pool, and through a door at the opposite end. The rooms held vast stockpiles of food.

  “Okay, now the cafeteria and industrial kitchen make sense,” I mused.

  “Okay, next level.”

  Cross fished a key out of the front of his sweatshirt, inserted it in the lock in the elevator, and sent us down another floor. “Kenntnis didn’t want any kids wandering in here.” He looped the chain and key over my head. “Here, it’s yours now.”

  We stepped out into an armory. The collection of weapons ranged from TOW missiles and M-16s and grenades to spears and bows and arrows and swords. The accompanying ammunition, both low and high tech, was also present.

  “Mein Gott,” Dagmar whispered.

  The room to the left was a training gym stocked with weights, aerobic machines, and the accouterments necessary for gymnastics. Fencing masks and padded vests hung on one wall. On the other side of the armory there was an indoor laser shooting range.

  “So we don’t waste ammo,” I murmured as I picked up the pistol and sighted down the barrel. “Damn, he thought of everything. Is that it?”

  “Nope. Now we go outside.”

  We rode the elevator up to the lobby, and Cross led us out the back door. We walked past his packing-box shelter, squatting like a wart against the clean steel and glass lines of the building. Boulders and concrete retaining walls were only a few feet away. Cross turned and looked like he was walking directly toward the rocks, and then he disappeared. When I got close enough I spotted the narrow opening between boulders. The passageway extended about six hundred feet, and the rocks towered ten feet above my head.

  Suddenly the terrain opened up into a narrow box canyon. Buffalo grass, brown now from winter’s grip, crackled under the soles of my shoes. At the far end of the canyon was a small grove of cottonwood trees: five aspens swayed softly in the wind. With their smooth white bark the aspens were like slender dancers swaying among the hoary gray of the cottonwoods. The trees signaled the presence of water.

  We walked the length of the canyon. The rock walls to either side had deep overhangs, and I saw score marks that indicated the rocks had been cut away to make a deeper cleft. Livestock sheds were tucked in underneath on one side, and a huge stack of hay was protected by the rock on the other. In one area there was a riding arena complete with a few jumps.

  I started counting my steps, and my best guess was that we had walked almost a mile before we passed out of the bright sunlight into the barred shadows of the winter-bare limbs of the trees. I heard the tinkle of water falling into water. I hurried forward and found an artesian spring in the center of the grove. Water, silver bright, welled up from a cairn of rocks and spilled into a large metal cistern. There was a capped pipe in the bottom.

  Bending down, I cupped a hand beneath the water, and gasped as the intense cold stung my palm. I braved a sip and felt a sharp pain behind my eyes from the chill. It tasted sharp and wonderful.

  “We pop off the cap and replenish the swimming pool,” Cross said.

  “Is there enough water here for crops?” Dagmar asked. She looked around the canyon. “Not that we could grow much here.” />
  “Not crops, just livestock, and that includes the human variety,” Cross said. He showed his teeth in a smile. “Just joking.”

  I made a slow 360-degree turn, evaluating the canyon. “Dagmar, I think I know why, aside from your obvious brilliance, you’re Lumina’s COO.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “You were a dressage rider. Dressage arose out of mounted warfare.” I pointed at the shed row. “I’m betting these are here for horses. You probably ought to buy us some.”

  “Horses,” Dagmar murmured as if the word were alien.

  “Look, if things get real nuts, gasoline is going to get scarce,” Cross said. “And a car won’t work when there’s powerful magic or a powerful Old One around. We’ll only be able to keep one running—the one he’s riding in.” Cross pointed at me. “And that’s only if he’s got the sword drawn. Let’s just hedge our bets, okay? Any more questions?” Cross asked, and I realized that blue-gray shadows were creeping across the grass. Beyond the rock walls of the canyon the sun was almost down.

  “Yeah, one. Where do we park the planes and how do we keep them flying?” I asked.

  “We own a big hunk of mesa to the north. The runways are dirt ’cause we didn’t want to raise too many flags by starting a big permitting fight. And there are cisterns of jet fuel buried on the property.”

  We returned to the office and watched while New Mexico treated us to one of its spectacular sunsets. The rounded cones of the Three Sisters, extinct volcanoes, looked like the backs of broaching blue whales silhouetted against a riot of gold, crimson, purple, and blue. Well, at least the two humans stared in silent appreciation. Cross ate through a jar of mixed nuts that he found in the bar. Pamela walked in.

  “Hey, she didn’t get announced,” Cross said in a tone that was both triumphant and accusing.

  My sister gave him a puzzled, irritated look. “What?”

  I waved it away. “Never mind. Hey, guess what, I’m Bruce Wayne.” This time I got the look. “Batman,” I amplified.

  “Nah,” Cross said. “You’re that wimpy Peter Parker.”