Constance Verity Saves the World

by A. Lee Martinez

  “I must say you’re taking this all very well,” said Peril. “No pleading, no tears, no begging for mercy, no appeals to my better nature.”

  “Would it make a difference?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t prevent people from trying.”

  “I’d be worried, but I know Connie will rescue me.”

  “Yes, I suppose this is old hat for you, being in a relationship with Verity.”

  “Actually, no. This is the first time.”

  “Well, you never forget your first,” she said.

  He thought it might be a joke, but he doubted she ever made jokes. Even accidentally. She probably didn’t approve of accidents in any form.

  “Tell me, how does a man like . . . well . . . like you end up in a romantic relationship with a woman like Verity?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “It just sort of happened.”

  Peril pursed her lips. “Very little in this universe just happens.”

  “Are you going to kill Connie?”

  “Most probably.”

  “Because of your son?”

  “Oh, no. Larry was always worthless.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say about your own family.”

  Lady Peril set down her fork, then her knife. She wiped the corners of her mouth, set down her napkin, and scowled, showing the smallest glimpse of teeth. “I consider myself a good host, so I’ll ignore that. My worldview places no special value on genetic loyalty. I operate across larger spectra.” She picked up her fork again and gestured toward his plate. “Do eat before it gets cold.”

  He took a bite and thought if he should say anything else.

  “You want Connie to come and rescue me,” he said.

  “That is my goal, yes.”

  “So you can kill her.”

  She nodded.

  “Why didn’t you kill her before?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  Lady Peril was impossible to read. He expected her to either ask for another glass of wine or have him shot.

  She raised her glass and a guard poured her another drink.

  “Tell me, Byron. What is your opinion on fate?”

  “I never liked the idea,” he replied.

  “Ah, so you’ve thought about it, then. Only idiots find the notion of destiny to be a comfort, and only because they deceive themselves into believing there’s some special reward for blindly believing such nonsense. I’ve never believed in fate, yet there are times when it has seemed that the universe itself has been determined to prevent my greater achievements.”

  “We all feel like that now and then,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  She let the word hang there as she stared into the distance.

  “The difference is that most people are stupid little things, occupying themselves with stupid little lives, whereas I am Lady Peril. From a young age, I knew I was smarter, more capable than anyone around me. It was only natural that I should rise to power in such an environment. I built Siege Perilous from the ground up. When I started, I had only a few million dollars gained through political extortion, and a handful of minions. From there, I created one of the most prominent international self-actualizing organizations on the planet. Would you like to talk to the president? I can arrange that.”

  “Which one?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Take your pick. I have leverage over all the important ones. Several of them answer directly to me. Name a country. I can have it invaded within the hour.”

  “No, thanks,” he said. “I believe you.”

  She pushed away her plate and frowned at it. “By any metric, I am among the most powerful people in the world. Yet my final plans of world domination continue to be thwarted. By incompetence. By ridiculous circumstances. By heroes. And, most frustratingly, by your girlfriend.”

  “That’s kind of what she does, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed the word with a hard gulp.

  “At first, I thought it best to simply kill Constance Verity. I’m not a vengeful woman, but I noticed that all my best plans were ruined by her. Over and over again. I am not without enemies. There is always some troublesome fool standing in my way. So-called heroes, defenders of the innocent, rival masterminds, ambitious challengers. But it is an evident truth that in those moments when I was undisputably closest to victory, whenever my ascendance was a foregone conclusion, Constance Verity would appear, and somehow, everything would fall apart. It seemed appropriate to remove this obstacle.

  “But Constance’s interference in my life is no mere coincidence. Loathe as I was to believe it, I came to realize that there was something greater at work. To remove Constance would only cause another to take her place. She’s not a person. She’s a force of nature. Only worse. I can tame hurricanes, bring about earthquakes, topple governments. But I cannot contain or control Constance Verity.”

  “She’s pretty amazing,” he said quietly. “But she’s not perfect. She has issues. She’s terrible at trusting people. Has to do everything herself. It’s like . . . we get it. You won the Twenty-Four Hours Nürburgring, but sometimes I still want to drive.”

  Byron lowered his head and concentrated on cutting his fish. He probably shouldn’t be sharing relationship issues with an evil genius.

  Lady Peril pushed away from the table. “Come with me, Byron. I’ve something to show you.”

  They walked down several more corridors, rode an elevator, took some stairs. Byron had given up trying to keep any sense of direction. Five minutes later, they arrived at a large domed chamber carved into the mountain. A flat pillar of rock stood in the center. Lady Peril placed her hand on a biometric scanner, and a bridge extended across the gap.

  A strange blue-green glow pulsed in the chasm far below. It wasn’t magma.

  “Raw magic,” explained Peril. “You have no idea how hard it was to find an untapped ley-line nexus that fit my needs. All the easy ones were already discovered. This one only remained untapped by virtue of resting far below this mountain. Digging it out took some time, and imagine my irritation to discover it had become inactive.”

  The glow flared and rumbled. It growled, like a living thing.

  They stepped off the bridge onto the plateau. Hundreds of runes were cut into the stone. He knew nothing about magic, but he could feel the arcane powers vibrating under his feet. Standing stones ringed the edges of the plateau, along with dozens of eclectic objects.

  “I’ve never been fond of magic. Too unscientific, but one must work with the tools available. By acquiring magical artifacts, I was able to activate the nexus through proximity. The Standing Stones of Stenness, the Goujian sword of ancient China, the badge of Wyatt Earp, the helm of the lost god.” She pointed to the large crystals floating overhead. “The remaining power crystals of Atlantis. Other objects of power and mystery, mostly important for the awakening.”

  She stopped before a tall vase made of alabaster. Otherworldly light glowed through the cracks running along its sides.

  “And this vase which even now gathers every errant spark of Constance Verity’s blessed mantle. Here, in this magic circle, I am finally accomplishing what I never could before. I am putting an end to Constance, but more importantly, I am removing the possibility that another will rise in her place. Here, I shall destroy the caretaker destiny once and for all. And when there is no longer one person favored by fate, when there is only a perfect, indifferent universe, I shall claim my rightful place as master of this world.”

  A few globules of light materialized overhead, sinking into the ancient vase.

  “Another few drops,” said Lady Peril. “With every strain, with every bit of reckless heroism, with every death-defying escape and minor coincidence, this magic circle drains more of Constance’s blessed life. In a matter of another few hours, a day at most, it’ll all be contained within. And once she’s no longer under the caretaker mantle, I will destroy the mantle once and for all, and then I will kill
her. And that will be that.”

  “If you make her normal, why kill her?” asked Byron. There were probably better questions, but he didn’t understand enough of this to find them.

  “Why don’t I leave your girlfriend alone?” replied Lady Peril. “Why don’t I allow you both to walk out of here, to live out the rest of your miserably drab lives? Because Constance has been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

  She smiled, and the temperature in the room dropped, the glowing Atlantean power crystals dimmed exposed to such pure malice.

  “And she will die by my hand.”

  She assumed her default expression of equal parts disgust and disinterest and walked away from the circle. Apollonia gestured for Byron to follow, though he didn’t need to be told. They walked through more hallways until reaching a place where the carved rock replaced the walls.

  They arrived at a new room minutes later, and it was all but indistinguishable from a cave if not for the lights mounted on the wall and the metal floor under their feet. Scratches were gouged in the floor by what Byron could only assume were massive claws. Then the thing in the darkened corner of the chamber lumbered forward, and he no longer had to assume.

  The hulking creature stalked back and forth. The chain attached to the collar on its neck belonged to a battleship anchor.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Peril. “Something our genetic experimentation division came up with. A combination of shark, tiger, and ape DNA, along with a few little extra bits here and there. Completely impractical for any useful purpose, but I can’t bring myself to destroy it.”

  The creature bared its sharpened teeth. Muscles bulged under its orange-and-black fur. It raked the floor with its long black claws, causing sparks to fly.

  Beautiful wasn’t the first word that came to Byron’s mind.

  “I find I like you, Byron,” said Lady Peril. “As much as I like anyone. I can console you that your death will be quick, if a bit messy.”

  Apollonia kicked Byron in the leg, and he fell to his knees. While he was recovering, Lady Peril and Apollonia exited. The only way out of the room slid shut with a solid snap.

  The monster sat on its haunches and focused its green eyes on Byron. Its rasping breath filled the small room.

  Panic seized him, and he pounded on the door.

  “Oh, you were making such a positive impression,” said Peril’s voice from somewhere. “Don’t ruin it now.”

  “You’re just going to kill me?” he shouted. “Just like that?”

  “No, Byron. If I were to kill you just like that, I would’ve had you shot. Weren’t you paying attention? You mean nothing to me. Only a means to an end. If my calculations are correct, you’ll be improbably saved at the last minute.”

  A machine in the darkness whirred, and the mutant’s chain slackened. It moved forward, only to meet resistance as the chain unfurled slowly. Perhaps to increase dramatic tension. Perhaps because Lady Peril found some sadistic glee in watching him squirm. The creature leaned forward on its knuckles. Bits of saliva dripped from its jaws.

  “What if you’re wrong?” asked Byron.

  “Possible. This isn’t an exact science.”

  “You’re a madwoman!”

  “Your reaction is understandable. If it should make you feel any better, I do hope you live. Or rather, I don’t require you to die and see no harm in your continued living.”

  The chain engine roared louder. The creature’s shark tail flipped in anticipation.

  Byron glanced around for something to defend himself. Not that it mattered. She could’ve left him a bazooka, and it wouldn’t have done him any good against this titan of twisted science.

  “Connie will rescue me,” he said, more to himself.

  “I’m beginning to have doubts myself,” said Peril. “Are you absolutely certain that she’s particularly fond of you?”

  He pressed against the wall and tried to control his breathing. His heart thumped in his chest. She would be there. She would make it. She always made it in time.

  The mutant pounced on Byron. In two leaps, it was upon him. Lady Peril had been right. It was quick. So quick, he found himself staring at the jaws bearing down on his head before having time to process the information. He would’ve been dead before even realizing it if the chain hadn’t suddenly tightened again.

  It growled, clawing at the metal collar around its neck. With a whimper, it fell on its back, writhing as the tether dragged it away.

  The door opened. Lady Peril and Apollonia entered. Peril held a small device in her hand with a single button. “Well, that was disappointing. I thought for certain Constance would make an appearance.”

  Peril handed the device to Apollonia, who used it to drag the mutant into the darkness.

  Byron shook with equal parts fear and rage. “Is this some sort of game to you?”

  Peril said, “Game implies some manner of frivolous hobby. I assure you that this isn’t that.”

  Byron would never have a better chance. He took a swing at Peril. She grabbed his fist and squeezed. She might’ve been a wiry older lady, but she had ungodly strength. She twisted his arm, and he fell to his knees. He whimpered. He tried not to but couldn’t help it.

  “You’re out of your depth,” she said. “If you wish to survive, I suggest you avoid further foolish bravado.”

  The mutant, its eyes glowing in the dark, growled.

  Peril released Byron. She sneered, not at him but at the idea of him. He wasn’t anything to her. Just a thing to be used and discarded when no longer needed.

  She turned her back to him. He was beneath her. “Come along, Apollonia. We’ll leave Byron to consider his future actions and the consequences of such.”

  They exited. He sat there, on his knees, feeling powerless. No wonder Connie hadn’t wanted him around.

  “We’ll try again in another hour,” said Peril. “Perhaps without the chain. It might encourage things.”

  The door snapped shut, and Byron leaned against the wall. The mutant crouched in its corner. It scraped the floor with its claws, creating a steady scrich-scrich-scrich sound. Every so often, it would glance at him, and while hunger and rage burned in its eyes, there was something else there. Byron imagined it was sympathy. Neither were master of their destinies.

  “Sucks to be us.”

  The mutant howled long and low and sad, and, heaven help him, Byron was sorely tempted to join in.

  29

  It was a long plane flight, car ride, and hike to reach the secret mountain lair of Lady Perilous. An isolated locale was ideal for secrecy but lousy for logistics. Most sensible masterminds had long since abandoned these out-of-the way places, and it made Connie’s life easier. But Lady Peril was old-school.

  The hike wasn’t so bad. Even a bit invigorating to be out in the cool forest air. She liked the outdoors, liked testing herself against the elements. It was almost relaxing, aside from one encounter with a grizzly bear that had gone badly because Connie hadn’t been paying enough attention. After a few bluff charges, she went her way and the bear went its. She knew enough to handle the situation, and a bear attack wasn’t a big deal. But things felt harder now. It might have been paranoia, but as Connie scaled the sheer face of a mountain in the dark with nothing but her experience and determination between her and a thousand-foot drop, she couldn’t help but worry.

  It was a lousy night for a climb. Clouds obscured the moonlight, and she didn’t have any equipment. Not that she would’ve used it. She didn’t want to make the noise. And the dark worked in her favor. If she couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face, it was unlikely someone else would. Not that she expected much security. Isolation was the biggest selling point of carving a secret base into a mountain three hundred miles from the closest town, and that town was barely twenty people and a couple of dogs. And if someone made it this far, they’d have to be an idiot to try the climb.

  She’d done stupider things. She couldn’t count the number of t
imes she’d played a hunch or taken an impossible risk. Often, she’d had no choice. When being chased by a hungry dinosaur, jumping off a cliff into the darkness below wasn’t the smart move, but it wasn’t especially foolish compared to the alternative.

  Other times, experience told her things would pay off. Experience told her that every spaceship had an escape pod. Experience confirmed that every death trap had a failing. Every mystery had an answer. Most, anyway. Every secret base carved inside a mountain had ventilation ducts, and the best place to hide one of those ducts was on the side of an unscalable mountainside.

  A handhold crumbled, and she hung by one arm. In the darkness below, there were no mysteries. Only the unforgiving ground. The end of Constance Verity, a broken pile of bones in a forest. It might be weeks before anyone found her. Years.

  She was supposed to die a glorious death, but with whatever lingering bits of the caretaker fate remained within her, that might have changed.

  She grabbed another fragile ledge and braced her legs against whatever purchase they might find.

  “Not today. Not yet.”

  She wasn’t certain if it was her trademark stubborn resolve or if she was trying to convince herself. Either way, she carried on. There would be a vent. Or a wastewater pipe. Or a garbage chute. Something. And it would be big enough for her to get into. There had to be one.

  Connie had no time for doubts. Every inch higher was another inch she’d have to climb down, and after a point, up was the only choice.

  She found the vent hidden behind an outcropping. It extended just enough that she could prop herself against it for some support, allowing her to use her free hand to pull a portable laser torch from her utility belt. She started cutting through the grate, but the torch died halfway through the job.

  She found a spare battery in her belt, but as she pulled it from the pouch, it slipped through her fingers and tumbled into the void.

  It was only a bit of bad luck. Not unusual. Even with the full force of the caretaker spell behind her, things never went perfectly. She’d improvise.

  She managed to pry open the grating. Its jagged edges bit into her palms, drawing blood. It wasn’t hard to bend, aside from the pain, which she ignored, and the leverage issue while dangling. She wiped the sticky blood on her shirt and crawled through the small opening. It was barely big enough and only because of a trick she’d picked up from the Amazing Howard, world’s greatest living escape artist. It was just a question of muscle compression, dislocating a shoulder, and being able to hold her breath for the four minutes it took to squeeze her torso through.