The Sin of Moloch

Home > Other > The Sin of Moloch > Page 3
The Sin of Moloch Page 3

by Andrew Gordinier


  “Excuse me, do you have the time?” The woman was attractive, with pale blue eyes that were unnerving.

  “No, my cellphone’s battery died.”

  “Makes you miss the good old days, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, even a broken watch was right twice a day.” The woman laughed pleasantly and turned to walk away. There was no real for need passwords and that kind of paranoia, but there was also no reason to relax and make mistakes. Eric followed her to a red SUV in the passenger pickup area. She opened the door for him and put his small suitcase in the back. The driver waited in practiced boredom for his partner to get in the passenger seat.

  “I’m Ellen, and this is Dan.”

  “Good to meet you both.”

  “The pleasure is ours, sir. Where are you headed?”

  “South Loop hotel on State street.”

  “Sir?” The driver asked as he glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

  “It’s not on State Street?”

  “No, sir. It’s just that it’s a dive.”

  “That’s fine.” Eric was unamused by the confusion and questions. There weren’t supposed to be questions at all, he would have to make a note not to hire him again.

  “Is there anything you need to pick up for work, sir?” The woman was either unaware of the driver's error or ignoring it.

  “No. I’ll be fine.” Eric smiled and looked out the window. Even though he wasn’t a mage, working for one had a lot of side benefits, such as undetectable compartments in carry on luggage.

  “So how am I supposed to defend myself against a mage? I’ve seen the things John can do and-“

  “Mages get killed by everyday people all the time, Radha.” Eric examined her small apartment, taking stock of the small windows and flimsy door. “Back in the day, they used to get taken down by angry mobs and religious fanatics.”

  “Back in the day?”

  “Pretty much from the Spanish Inquisition till last week.”

  “How?”

  “Some times luck and other times by sheer numbers, have you ever startled John?”

  “All the time.”

  “You can’t always count on luck or numbers, but you can sneak up on them like everyone else. If they see you coming, they will win every time. But, surprise a mage, and you’ll have a fighting chance.”

  “It can’t be that easy.”

  “It’s not, that’s why you’re also going to start taking martial arts classes. But, you need to know they can be killed and that they aren’t gods.”

  “You’re a trained soldier, I’m just-“

  “And that is your biggest element of surprise, they think you won’t or can’t. There is one other thing though, and it’s important, it’s cell block rules all the way.”

  “Cellblock?” Radha said the word as if it could summon unknown horrors.

  “You hit hard, you hit fast, and you hit till either they die, or someone stops you.” Radha sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her hands for a moment, then looked at Eric.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Eric. But, I never realized how scary you are, and I’m happy you’re on our side.”

  “Radha, I don’t want to scare you, but the mages are not always the scary ones out there. Sometimes, it’s the people that work for them that are really scary. Now, let's talk about making your apartment a little easier to defend or escape from.”

  “I’m pleased you could make the time to meet me.” Conrad looked around the small conference room at the handful of people seated around the table. There weren’t many, nowhere enough to fill the whole table. Everyone had sat as far from each other as possible, no one talked, and there was little to no eye contact among them, except for menacing stares.

  “Some of us didn’t have much choice.” Said a man in his fifties who wore large bifocal glasses.

  “That’s not true.” Conrad had heard that line a lot lately.

  “Word is that you have a contact that can get the IRS and the other idiot agencies off our backs, but I’m willing to bet that’s because you put them on to us.” The man with the glasses drummed his fingers on the table.

  “There are a lot of rumors going around these days, but if you don’t like the way the government is treating you… There is always room in Europe.” Conrad smiled, knowing the heavy-handed route was not easy, but he was uninterested in verbal sparring and subtlety.

  “You know that’s not a real option.” A younger man seated at the other end of the table spoke up. Conrad made a note that his suit coat fit badly and was clearly second hand. If he was without any real holdings, he would be an easy ally to win, perhaps just as easy to lose.

  “The European Regents won’t trust anyone without a traceable lineage, and if they do, they’re going to ask for a lot.” The woman speaking had short brunette hair and a pretty face. “I talked to them, they make the IRS look warm and cuddly.”

  “I understand how this looks and the difficult position it puts us all in. But, the truth is that this offers us a unique opportunity.” Conrad leaned forward and was careful to make eye contact with every member of the small group as he talked. “We can end the bickering and bloodshed our society has accepted as the norm for almost all of recorded history. It gives us a chance to live in peace and safety, for our families to be safe, for our students to dedicate time to studies instead of looking over their shoulders.”

  “That sounds more like a sales brochure than an actual offer.” The young man’s voice had a practiced sarcasm to it.

  “I don’t need a sales brochure, this sells itself. I’m inviting you to a meeting, a congress, where we, as a whole, will decide how to govern ourselves and our affairs.”

  “You’re holding an empty plate and telling us it’s a feast.” Said the man with bifocals.

  “I’m offering a blank canvas and a hand in the artwork.”

  “I hate metaphors.” Mumbled the woman. “What about your connections to Carter? Young John has proven to be a powerful loose cannon, one who came from nowhere and is already very powerful, too powerful.”

  “Don’t forget that this infighting killed John’s mentor, Owen. Who also happened to be a close friend of mine, in case you had forgotten.” Conrad’s chair was suddenly uncomfortable. “John is a firm supporter of this cause and is willing to give up all the territories he inherited and won in his duel.”

  “As I recall, John also gave up a student to the FBI, a major violation and breach.” The young man surprised Conrad with his accusatory tone.

  “The young man, Peter, was not a student and couldn’t use magic.”

  “Do you have proof of this?”

  “We have items that he was using to mimic magical effects.”

  “Those could be faked by any skilled mage.”

  “We could argue in circles about that for a long time. But, there is a simple fact that proves our point.” Conrad paused. “Peter is still alive. He has not been killed by a Censor.”

  “That is true. However, your alliance with John might seem questionable.” The young man was proving to Conrad that he had misjudged him.

  “Yes. As I recall, though, Thomas here was once allies with Veronica, and she was even more unpredictable than John. The two of you were partners in an import-export company, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” The man with the bifocals looked away and seemed to be examining the wood grain of the table. “She was blackmailing me.”

  “How did you allow that to happen?” The woman’s voice betrayed her surprise.

  “I’m not going to get into that, I’m just going to say that I don’t trust you, Conrad. You and Owen tried this once before, and it didn’t work out for anyone involved.”

  “I’m not going to dwell on the past, and neither should you, it would pointlessly waste our opportunity here. I’m not going to force you to join us, I’m not going to hold a knife to your throat, or hunt you down. You don’t have to be a part of this, but this should sell it’s self on that alone.”
Conrad was well aware that everyone at the table knew it was a shaded truth. They would never be hunted, but their bank accounts were another story.

  “How many people have already decided to show up?” Thomas asked as he tried to discreetly eye the woman across from him.

  “So far, there are forty.” Conrad smiled at their surprised looks.

  “There are forty mages in North America?” The woman leaned forward and tapped a manicured nail on the table as she spoke.

  “Yes. We were as shocked as anyone else. It seems there were a lot of people working in the shadows and hoping not to be noticed. I think it says a lot that they came forward once they heard what we have to offer.” Conrad leaned back in his chair and for the first time since the meeting had started enjoyed the view out the window. He could clearly see the Golden Gate Bridge across the bay and enjoyed the deep blue of the water below it.

  “There were supposed to be at most twenty the last time they counted, how many regents does that include?” Asked the young man.

  “I don’t know if you have heard or not, the remaining regents are holding a conclave this week, officially to consider what to do about your little revolution. I think they are unofficially taking a headcount to see if it is worth fighting.”

  “How many of that forty are Regents, Conrad.” Thomas took up the question under knitted eyebrows.

  “Fifteen.”

  “So almost half the Regents have committed to showing, you have unknown mages coming out of the woodwork, and you still have more mages to talk to?”

  “That’s right.” Conrad said with a smile.

  “How did you find these other mages, they’ve avoided Regents and Censors-“

  “Apparently there have been refugees hidden in plain sight for some time. Some of them were known to local Regents who kept their secrets, others kept in touch through various means with each other, and word gets around about things like this.” Conrad smiled gently.

  “Those kinds of numbers tip the scales of power.” Said the woman as she made eye contact with Thomas for the first time. “We could challenge the voting power of the European Regents-“

  “This isn’t about tipping the scales of power, is it?” The young man said as he glanced between the other two. “If they had wanted to change the balance of power, they wouldn’t be telling us about the numbers they had. Conrad would simply be telling us how things were going to be. His option to join is a warning, giving us a chance to leave and avoid a conflict.”

  “I’m the Regent of San Francisco.” Said Thomas with pride. “What are you offering me to give that up?”

  “San Francisco is small, no offense intended.” Said Conrad gently. “How safe is it for you to travel? What are your limits on business? And, most importantly, are you the equal of every mage in North America?”

  “I’ve survived my share of challenges.” Said Thomas, sitting a bit taller in his seat.

  “Could you challenge me?” Conrad said in a friendly way.

  “I don’t know. In your day, you were considered a dangerous threat.”

  “I am offended that you use the past tense.” Conrad chuckled.

  “You didn’t get to be old by being dumb and weak.” Said the young man evenly.

  “Yes.” Conrad smiled honestly at the young man. “I am offering you equality, not as a gesture, but as fact and a right. Each mage will have a voice in the new government and have an opportunity to be a part of its leadership.”

  “I’m sorry, I thought you were the leader of this new government?” Asked the woman.

  “I have no intention of taking that position. I am leading the change and spreading the word. After this, I intend to take a much-needed rest. As Thomas has pointed out, I am getting old.”

  “I’m in.” The woman said without hesitation.

  “How about you?” Thomas asked the young man.

  “As Conrad said; This sells itself.” Said the young man with a wry smile.

  Chapter 5

  John scanned the horizon and saw a thin wisp of smoke far in the distance. He was pleased that Augie had at least done him the kindness of giving him a clue. Sipping from his water bladder, John considered how long it would take to get there and if he would need more water before then. John guessed he would be there by evening or just after dark, but he was low on water. It wasn’t that he couldn’t make the rest of the journey with what he had, John wanted to send the message that it wasn’t a challenge and that he didn’t need magic to survive. With that in mind, John walked on through the scalding afternoon sun, keeping an eye out for anything that might hold even a drop of water.

  It was late when John spotted a suspiciously greener patch of scrub and small trees, perhaps not so much greener as they were less brown than the plants around them. John examined the plants and was pleased to see they were, in fact, much healthier than the others around them. He found quickly that they were clustered around a small rocky depression. Mindful that nasty things hid under rocks, John moved several till he cleared a small patch of sandy gravel that was cool to the touch. Not ice-cold, but cool enough that there must be evaporation occurring.

  Carefully John dug till the sand at the bottom of the hole became damp and started to fill with a small slow trickle of water. John let it fill as he reassembled his improvised filter on top of the water bladder. Sacrificing his t-shirt, he had packed it with ashes from his first nights' fire, and then a thick layer of fine sand. It wasn’t the world's best filter or the fastest, but it was good enough. John leaned into the hole and sipped the water slowly without swallowing. It tasted gritty but cleaner than he expected, he then spit the water into his filter. After what seemed like an eternity of slowly transferring water and waiting for the small well to refill, John was content with refilling his water about three-quarters of the way.

  John refilled the well with sand and replaced the stones back on top. He didn’t so much want to hide the fact that he had been there but to prevent the water from drying out. There was no telling if another traveler would pass this way and need it, or if he, might later on. Looking at the sun and the smoke on the horizon, John realized he would arrive well after sundown. He collected a few long and sturdy fallen branches that looked like he might be able to make a torch out of, and some sap from a tree that might make good pitch.

  Sure enough, it was well after dark as John approached the camp, his improvised torch worked, but not very well to light the way. He could hear music, laughter, and a dozen different languages being spoken. To his surprise, he could also smell BBQ and the rich smell of marijuana mixing with the early evening air. Augie came out to meet him on his own, his spear in one hand a substantial frosted mug of beer in the other.

  “John! I’m pleased you made it.” Said Augie with outstretched arms.

  “Am I late for the party?”

  “No, we timed it for your arrival. Come on, now that you’re here, I’ll introduce you around to the others and bring you up to speed.”

  “Do you still have my tablet?”

  “Yes, it’s in a tent we set up for you, I’ll point it out as we go.” Augie dragged John around the camp introducing him to people as they went, there was no chance John was going to remember names and faces, but he would try. It wasn’t any help that Augie was already close to being drunk. John was surprised by how many people there were. He had expected a small group of ten or twenty, at least a hundred people were milling around eating and drinking as they chatted. It was a truly global affair with people from every corner of the world, and it made John somehow feel homesick for Chicago. During the meet and greet, John got offered a fair number of beverages but only accepted water, no explanation needed. He was also offered a few pipes and cigarettes, he turned those down out of habit and paranoia. These people were all mages, and who knew what kind of drugs could be cooked up by someone who understood magic and could alter almost anything? “Last, but not least, this is Sherry.” Sherry was blond, with short hair, and John spotted a tattoo lur
king at the base of her neck, just hidden by her black t-shirt.

  “Hi.” Said John as he offered a hand.

  “Hey.” Sherry shook his hand awkwardly. “Is that a mid-western accent, or did I grab the wrong bottle again.” Sherry playfully examined her half-empty beer bottle.

  “Right bottle, right accent. I grew up in Minnesota, but I live in Chicago now. Are you-“

  “American? Yes, but you better use the ‘North American’ line around here. Jerrado is from Brazil and gets upset about how we think we are the only Americans there are.”

  “Well, since you and Sherry have a few things in common, I’ll trust her to look after you while I take care of a few things.” Augie smiled and slapped John on the shoulder with too much enthusiasm. “Congratulations on surviving and joining our merry band.”

  “Augie..” John had questions, but Augie had already wandered off. “Damn it.”

  “He didn’t explain a single thing, did he?” Sherry asked with a smile.

  “No. Is Augie always such a pain in the ass?”

  “Usually, but his heart is in the right place. Maybe I can fill you in while we get me another beer.”

  “I think it’s time I started drinking too.”

  “Sweet! Follow me.” Sherry lead John around the edge of the party, returning waves and shouts as she went.

  “Here we are.” At the outskirts of the small cluster of tents was a pallet stacked with cases of beers and assorted bottles, John felt safe in assuming there had been a lot more not that long ago. Sherry pulled a can of beer out of a box and offered one to John, who accepted. Sherry found another one and used a simple pattern to chill it before opening it. John chilled his own in a similar way. “So, what do you want to know first?”

  “So, everyone here found a Primer?”

  “Mostly. A few of us were brought in because our educations or research brought us close to things we weren’t supposed to know. I guess we’re all variations on a theme.” Sherry paused to sip her beer.

  “You tracked all the primers down?” John feigned interest in his own beer.

 

‹ Prev