“I was tasked with containing the One. After witnessing the atrocities in his wake, even the worst people seem like angels.” He leaned forward, forearms on the table. “But let me ask you: Do you ever get tired of it? Living on and on, I mean?”
“Absolutely not. You read tales about immortals where they suffer crushing ennui and are looking for ways to end it all. But those fictions are written by mortals. One thing the authors can’t appreciate is how fast time begins to pass. After the first century or so, the years fly by. Then the decades. And then the centuries. At least that’s the way it’s been for me. It must have been the same for you.”
He nodded. “Exactly. You were quite a celebrity back in our day, yet now you stay anonymous.”
“That’s the way it must be, and I don’t mind. I’m enjoying this life. In the intervals between the times when they sicken me, I find our species endlessly amusing.”
“‘Species’?”
She hadn’t meant to sound like that.
“You know how it is. Over the millennia you become more removed.”
“Only if you disengage. Which I suspect you have.”
“I view it as a defense mechanism. Anyway, I can’t wait to see what we do next if we’re given a chance. I have more wealth than I’d ever dreamed. I just hope for enough time to enjoy it. I’m sure you’re well off too.”
Another nod. “With time comes perspective. You can spot trends and anticipate where they’re headed.” A smile. “And after all, we’ve seen it all before, haven’t we?”
Yes, she had. In many ways the progress of this, the Second Age, mimicked that of the First Age of their youth.
“But what happened to you? I’d heard that when the Ally chose you as Defender, it made you immortal. And yet now…”
“Just like you, I was enjoying my immortality. The only downside was watching loved ones—lovers, children, grandchildren—age and die. I never got used to that.”
Neither had she. The repeated heartbreak…
“I never had children, but I had many lovers. The solution is to not get too involved. To disengage, as you say.”
“I was never good at that.”
“I know. Do you have a woman now?”
He nodded. “Magda. But she is not well. Her mind…”
How terrible for him.
“Perhaps the Bagaq…?”
A quick shake of his head. “No-no. It’s rare that any true benefit issues from an Infernal, and when it does, it usually comes with a terrible price tag. The present is an ever-shifting mystery to Magda, so she lives mostly in the past. I’ve learned to deal with that. The Bagaq might only make matters worse.”
Poor man. Poor woman. “Do you ever regret losing your immortality?”
Another head shake. “I’ve watched too many intimates grow old and die. Magda is the first I’ve grown old with. There’s something to be said for taking that journey together. But back when I was immortal… the will to go on living, to see what happens next, never left me. Which was why, when I trapped the One back in the sixteenth century and had a chance to end his malevolent existence, I chose instead to lock him away in a prison I had built in a remote corner of the Transylvanian Alps.”
“You imprisoned Ra—?”
His hand shot up. “Don’t say his name.”
“But—”
“Just don’t. Back then, I feared if he died, so would I. So, I locked him away.” A reminiscent smile curved his lips. “You might be interested to know that I sealed away a lot of so-called ‘forbidden’ books and scrolls in the keep at the same time. Among them was one of the few remaining copies—perhaps the only remaining copy—of the Compendium of Srem.”
“How wonderful of you! Is that the broken one in Jack’s apartment?”
“The same. Back in the days of the Spanish Inquisition it fell into the hands of the Grand Inquisitor, Tomás Torquemada. He tried to destroy it—burn it, tear it apart, slash its pages—but as you well know, it’s virtually indestructible. So, he buried it. But more than that, he designed and built a monastery over the spot—the Monastery of St. Thomas in Avila—where he spent his final years.”
“How he must have hated it.”
“Fear was his motivating force. The book terrified him. But the Compendium’s guardian at the time saw to it that Torquemada buried a decoy. The real one passed to me and I kept it hidden away in the keep for five hundred years until after the war. Alexandru, one of the keep’s caretakers, found it along with the other books kept there, and sold them to an antiquarian dealer in Bucharest who in turn sold the Compendium to an American collector. A tortuous trail led it to Jack. But it would be locked away still if the damn German Army hadn’t interfered and compromised the integrity of the keep. I had to kill the One before he could escape. That was in 1941. The Conflict here appeared over and settled, so the Ally released me. As a result I began to age—slowly, but age nonetheless.”
This made no sense.
“But if you killed Ras—”
The hand up again. “Please. He hears and comes looking. Call him the One.”
The One…in the beginning they had numbered seven—the remorseless Seven who served the Otherness. But Rasalom couldn’t tolerate being one of seven. And so, through deceit, treachery, and plain and simple murder, he eliminated them singly and in pairs until only he remained. And thus the Seven became… the One.
“But if you killed him, how can he hear me?”
“He found a way back. In 1968 he was able to infuse himself into a unique, newly conceived embryo.”
“Are you sure? Knowing him, he’d surely have made his presence known by now.”
“He’s working behind the scenes, staying off the radar, so to speak.”
“Why?”
“Fear of me.”
What?
She hid her shock and said, “No offense intended, Glaeken, but in your present state it’s nigh impossible to see you as any sort of threat to him.”
“Your powers of observation continue to amaze,” he said with a sardonic twist to his lips. “Of course, I’m not. But he doesn’t know that, and my greatest worry is that he’ll discover the truth. If he learns I’m old and mortal, he’ll realize he’s unopposed here. He’ll waste no time reshaping the Earth to accommodate the Otherness, which means making it a living hell for humanity.”
This was what she’d been feeling. Her foreboding was no longer nameless.
Burbank’s mantra echoed in her brain: Twilight has come…night will follow.
“His time is coming, isn’t it?”
“I fear so. And soon.”
“But wasn’t there supposed to be someone to take your place should you… should something happen to you?”
“The Heir.”
“Yes. The Heir. Did something happen to him?”
He gave her a strange look. “Are you playing with me? This is not a matter to be taken lightly.”
She felt her mouth go dry. “I’m not sure what you mean.” But she had a growing feeling…
Glaeken scowled. “Come now. You were in his apartment yesterday.”
She closed her eyes. That was what she’d sensed about him.
“Jack? Jack is the Heir?”
“Yes, but you knew that.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. As the millennia had passed, she’d developed a sense for people and their potentials. “I knew there was something about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I sensed he was more than simply an urban mercenary, but I had no idea he was…”
“He keeps himself closed off. He’s good at that.”
They sat in silence a moment. She knew Glaeken was thinking the same as she.
“What are the odds?” he said.
She swallowed. “It seemed like such a natural progression. Earlier this year a piece from my Heracleion collection surfaced in New Orleans. I wanted it back. I asked around and Jack’s name came up. I involved him—indirectly, I should add—and he did a brilliant
job. I was so satisfied that when another problem of a similar nature arose, I called on him.”
“How long ago did you lose this Heracleion piece?”
“The city sank a little over two thousand years ago, so, about that long.”
“And suddenly your trinket resurfaces. You didn’t question that?”
“Well, another piece—a large inscribed sapphire close to my heart—had surfaced early in the twentieth century, so I wasn’t terribly surprised when I heard about this one. The ‘trinket’ in question is the Cidsev Nelesso.”
“Ah. An Infernal. Even more suspicious.”
“It had once been part of my collection.”
“I’m assuming this current problem of ‘a similar nature’ involves another Infernal?”
This was looking worse and worse.
“Yes. The Bagaq. Someone stole it from me during the so-called ‘Arab Spring’ and I recently stole it back. Another collector is in pursuit. I asked Jack to hide it for me.”
“That’s all?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I led one of the collector’s men to his home.”
The table jumped as Glaeken thumped it with his fist. “He’s being set up! And you’re complicit! Why would you do such a thing?”
The few other diners in the place—a total of three—paused their chewing to stare a moment, then went back to eating.
“I had my reasons. But I had no idea he was the Heir, or even that an Heir was needed. Had I known, I would have found another way. But even so, from what I’ve heard and seen, Jack is plenty capable of taking care of himself.”
A quick, sharp nod. “He is that. Misdirection, dissimilation, and legerdemain are his stocks in trade. Catch him if you can. But the situation is obviously being manipulated from Outside. The Otherness can’t find me, so they’re going after the Heir—with the goal of eliminating him. He’s at a disadvantage if he doesn’t realize that.”
She put down her chopsticks. She’d lost her appetite.
“The man I led to him…I didn’t know it at the time, but he’s not an ordinary man.”
Glaeken frowned. “How so?”
“You know how it is, when you’ve been around as long as we, you sense things about people. This Tier Hill… he’s a Mohawk and he can hear the signals.”
“That’s extraordinary right there.”
“He wears a sense of destiny. Where it will take him, I don’t know.”
She gasped as a thought came: What if his destiny was to kill the Heir?
“What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t tell Glaeken what she feared.
“I have to find Jack and warn him.”
“Exactly. When he’s finally and officially the Defender he’ll have greater strength and resistance to injury, but he’s not there yet. Until then, he’s still as mortal as the next man.” He tapped the table, frustration large on his face. “If I were my old self…” He jabbed a finger at her. “You’re responsible for this and it’s up to you to make it right.”
“I will. I—”
“Excuse me,” said a man two tables away. “Do either of you speak English?”
“Who are you?” she said in English.
“I’m a linguistics professor at Columbia and…” He shook his head. “I know a lot about languages and I’ve never heard anything like what you’re speaking. Can you tell me—?”
“It’s our own language,” she told him. “My father and I here made it up in my childhood. Now do not interrupt us again.”
Glaeken wore an amused expression. “Your father?”
Reverting to the Old Tongue, she said, “Well, I couldn’t very well say we were the same age.”
“This is absolutely fascinating,” the professor said. “How did you—?”
“What part of ‘do not interrupt us again’ was unclear?” Glaeken said in a voice that shook the walls.
The professor seemed to shrivel in his seat and became very interested in his food.
“I’ll have to find Jack,” she said.
“Don’t bother with his apartment. He’s not home.”
“Do you have his cell number?”
“He carries a variety of disposable phones, none of which he keeps long. When I want to contact him, I leave a message at his apartment.”
On the night before she’d visited him, Jack had called her back, wanting to arrange a meeting elsewhere. Did she still have that number?
“I’ll track him somehow.”
“Please do. Forces are aligning to bring him down.”
“I said I’d find him. But a favor, Glaeken.”
“I’m listening.”
“When next you see him, don’t say anything about me. Don’t even mention that you saw me.”
“Why not?”
“I like being Madame de Medici. It can’t go on forever, but for now it’s who I am. Though six months from now it probably won’t matter.”
His eyebrows rose. “You know something I don’t?”
“The signals…their frequencies are almost aligned.”
His expression slackened for a heartbeat or two, then tightened. “I receive the reports from Burbank, but with no activity for so long, I’ve neglected them. How long before they reach synchronization?”
“They started speeding toward synchronization this summer, but now their progression has slowed to a crawl.”
“But still progressing.” He nodded as if that made sense. “The One’s forces have killed the Lady twice—first time in Florida and the second right here in Central Park just this past summer.”
“But she persists?”
“Just barely. She lost the dog in the last attack.”
The Lady without her dog… she began to understand how dire the situation had become.
“The signals…you think they’re waiting for her third demise?”
He nodded. “The third will be the end of her. She’s linked to the Noosphere and the Noosphere is our last defense. I’m doing everything I can to protect her. And to prepare Jack for his destiny. Where do you live?”
“Many places. Here in New York I have an apartment in the Allard.”
“The Allard? We’re practically neighbors.”
“I wanted to stay close to Burbank.”
“Hard to believe he’s still alive.”
“I’ve been helping him with that, but I don’t know how much further I can take him.” Something Glaeken had said came back to her…dates. “Earlier you mentioned 1941. I’ve never asked Burbank because I never thought it mattered, but he told me the other day that the first signal began in 1941.”
She saw Glaeken stiffen. “Did he say when in 1941?”
“He knew the exact minute: 8:56 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on April Twenty-third.”
Glaeken leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “That was just about the time the German soldiers released the One from his solitary confinement and let him loose in the keep. He couldn’t leave the structure, but he could roam free within its walls.”
“You also mentioned 1968. He said the signals stabilized on February eleventh, 1968. Does that date mean anything?”
A weary nod. “That was the day the One was reconceived in human form. No question about it now: The signals are related to the Otherness. Do you have a safe place you can go?”
She was the only living person who knew the location of her refuge—or that it even existed. Should she tell him?
Of course she should. This was Glaeken.
“I have a hidey hole in a remote corner of the Qattara Depression.”
His smile was grim. “Which makes it doubly remote. It’s secure?”
“I can survive there for a long time.”
But six months from now, if things had gone all to hell, would she want to survive?
“Good. You will need it.”
“Is there no way to stop it—the apocalypse?”
He shook his head. “It appears inevitable. One way or another, the Otherness will make its move
. Sapience attracts attention. The showdown has been brewing since sentient life took hold here. I don’t know what exactly will trigger it, but I’ve no doubt it will happen. And soon.”
“Burbank says it will begin in the heavens.”
“And so it shall. Only the outcome is in question. And right now our side is at a distinct disadvantage.” He gave her a pointed look. “And at an even greater disadvantage without a Defender. Find Jack.”
“I will. But this storm isn’t going to help.”
Glaeken’s expression was grim. “This storm may not be entirely natural.”
That hadn’t occurred to her.
“Aimed at him?”
“I’m beginning to think so. He’s a creature of the city…it’s his domain. But a storm like this alters the terrain, reduces his advantages by blunting his instincts, slowing his movements, constricting his awareness.”
Possessed by a sudden urgency, she rose and he rose with her. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, they embraced.
She spoke against his chest. “We may not see each other again.”
His arms tightened around her. “We may not. I have only a few years left but you will go on—at least I hope you will—for many, many more.”
But will it be a world I wish to live in? she wondered as she broke away and hurried toward the street.
11
Jack jerked awake.
Movement…he’d caught it out of the corner of his eye. Over to his left, by the opening to the outside. Had H3 got away?
He eased to his feet and sidled toward the opening where he was rewarded with a strange sight. Not the strangest thing he’d ever seen—he’d have to go some for that—but up there on the list.
A figure was racing across the parking lot. Not running upright like a man but on all fours like an animal… like a dog or a wolf… and wearing an overcoat.
Jack raised the tranq gun but H3 was already out of range and fading into the falling snow.
How had this happened?
The cold had been seeping into his bones, making him drowsy. Had H3 seen him or had it been so focused on getting back outside it had missed him? Had to be the latter. Jack had placed himself deep in the shadows. And after seeing what H3 had done to those other three bodies, he doubted it would have left him untouched.
The Last Christmas: A Repairman Jack Novel Page 21