by Jon Steele
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
Katherine nodded to the windows. “What’s all that out there?”
“All that would be the Arctic Ocean above the seventy-fifth latitude of planet Earth. We’re flying the Great Circle route over the North Pole on our way back to Switzerland.”
“You sure?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Because I’ve never been on a jet that flew with invisible wings. Maybe I’m on a make-believe jet.”
“I assure you, you are on a real jet in the real world. Though it is a jet equipped with certain stealth technologies.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that. But what if we don’t want to go to Switzerland?”
“We?” the inspector said.
“Me and the cat. What if we want to go to Anguilla and get a tan?”
The inspector waited a few seconds before speaking again.
“Madame Taylor, I am heartily sorry for your ordeal and the loss of your son.”
Katherine stared at him.
“Only human beings can be sorry for what happens to another human being. You’re just faking it, aren’t you?”
The inspector nodded. “I am incapable of emotions and feelings as you experience them, yes. They are things that are dangerous to us. But I would like to think that in the long years I have walked this world, I developed a certain mindfulness in witnessing the suffering of the innocent, one that reinforces my efforts in assuring that their souls are comforted at the times of their deaths so that they may pass into new lives. It is with that same mindfulness that I will do my utmost to see that your son is returned to you.”
“Is that supposed to give me confidence? Sure, your drugs are making me think everything’s peachy keen, but I don’t believe a fucking word coming out of your mouth.”
“Madame Taylor—”
“I’m not finished.”
The inspector nodded respectfully.
“I just spent forty days burying people who had their throats slashed and bodies mutilated. I saw what happened to their souls. They were devoured despite your fucking mindfulness. Now you can talk.”
The inspector turned to Corporal Mai. “Would you advise the galley that Madame Taylor is awake? Perhaps they could prepare her morning tea.”
“Oui, Inspector.”
Corporal Mai quickstepped to the door and let herself out. Katherine looked at the cop.
“You like them pretty and young, don’t you? Anne was pretty and young. Does this one know what happens to pretty, young girls who get hooked up with the likes of you?”
“Corporal Mai is an excellent soldier, Madame Taylor. She performs her duties with precision and dedication. And yes, she is aware of the risks of working for the likes of me. As did all those killed at Grover’s Mill trying to protect you and your son. I simply asked Corporal Mai to leave because she possesses acute sensitivities.”
Katherine remembered the young woman’s eyes and the gentleness of her smile. “Like what?”
“When she was nine years old, in Ho Chi Minh City, her mother was killed in the same manner you witnessed at Grover’s Mill. I saw no reason to subject her to reliving the event in her imagination.”
“Her imagination.”
“Quite.”
Katherine remembered waking up, seeing the lantern and cat on the wooden table and thinking she was in the belfry loge of Lausanne Cathedral; seeing a form standing in the shadows. Seeing the eyes . . . Marc? And then she saw him standing before her after he brought her to the loge. A crooked little man in a floppy black hat and a long wool overcoat, a mildly insane look in his pale green eyes.
“Where on earth did you come from?”
“Quebec City. It’s on the same line as Lausanne.”
“The same line?”
“The line on the globe in Maman’s house.”
Katherine looked at the place where the young Asian woman had been standing in the room. Keeping the watch, the young woman said.
“How did Corporal . . . What’s her name?”
“Corporal Mai.”
“How did Corporal Mai end up in Switzerland?”
“I was made aware of her situation. I brought her to Lausanne to be raised and educated at Mon Repos.”
Katherine remembered seeing that place from her flat on Rue Caroline. It was a huge estate in the woods at the edge of town. Neat gardens and fountains set around a big redbrick house. And there were two wrought-iron aviaries on the grounds, too. She sometimes heard the birds from her balcony at dawn. She remembered one day walking along the high stone wall that surrounded the grounds and seeing the sign on the main gate.
MON REPOS ORPHANAGE AND SCHOOL FOR SPECIAL CHILDREN
A PRIVATE INSTITUTION OF THE ROCHAT FOUNDATION
NO ACCESS TO THE PUBLIC
“That’s where Marc Rochat went to school, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Your corporal went to the same school as Marc. She has the same eyes as Marc. Like yours, like Harper’s, like that old hippie that showed up in the bunker with the cat.”
“Because she, like Marc Rochat, like all the children at Mon Repos, were born as half-kinds bred by the likes of me. The shape and color of the eyes reflect shared genetic traits.”
“What?”
“Half-kinds were the result of an experiment at the beginning of the 1990s. Needless to say, it was something that should not have happened. Interbreeding of our two species was a practice begun long ago by our enemy to devastating effect on the world. We wished to bring children of light into the world to counter that effect. But our children were born with abilities and sensitivities that rendered them vulnerable to the terrors of the world as it had become. The experiment was shut down within a generation and I established Mon Repos, as a place where the children, our children, could be protected and cared for.”
Katherine remembered Rochat shuffling and limping in his misshapen body, struggling to comprehend the world with the mind of a child, living in a world of angels and bells. And Corporal Mai, trying so hard to be a good soldier keeping the watch, but unable to hold back a childlike smile, as if the same strain of mystic innocence still flowed through her blood.
“How did evil monsters like you get here?” Katherine said.
“That would make our progeny the children of evil, would it not? Do you think Corporal Mai evil? Did you think Marc Rochat evil?”
Katherine saw him in the loge again.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because you’re lost.”
Katherine looked down at the cat on her lap. He had heard Marc Rochat’s name again and was scanning the room. Is he here?
“He thought I was an angel,” Katherine said.
“Yes, he did. And he died protecting the cathedral he thought was a hiding place for angels.”
She looked at the cop. “Was Harper part of your fucking experiment?”
“No. Nor was I or the old hippie who showed up with the cat. Indeed, when Mr. Harper learned of it during the cathedral affair, his reaction was far more indignant than yours.”
“Really?”
“For all his roughness around the edges, Mr. Harper’s sense of outrage at the injustices inflicted upon the innocent borders on saintly.”
“Are we talking about the same Jay Harper? Cheap sports coat, cheap watch, food on his tie?”
“Indeed.” Inspector Gobet stepped closer to the bed. “Madame Taylor, the likes of me are not evil. We do not commit and have never committed an act of violence against a human being. We are, in fact, forbidden to touch a human being without following certain protocols. Indeed, in all but one case our children were conceived without physical contact. We used an advanced method of DNA transfer as yet unknown to the human race.”
“What happened in the one case? One of your gang get a little too hot and bothered with one of the Earth girls?”
The inspector shook his head. “It was an act of mutual love, though the one who
committed the act was unaware of the true nature of his being at the time. Otherwise, the women involved in the experiment were partisans, like the civilians of Grover’s Mill. They were willing participants in the experiment and they were loving mothers.”
“Who all ended up dead. That’s what happened to Corporal Mai’s mother, and Marc’s, isn’t it?”
“There have been many cases like that, yes.”
In the lull of voices, Monsieur Booty realized Marc Rochat had not returned, and the beast settled back to sleep.
“How many are there? Children like Marc?”
The inspector bowed his head. “There were many hundreds. There are only three that we know of left in the world. Corporal Mai, the one half-kind born of an act of love, and a young lady who now calls the hour at Lausanne Cathedral. The rest were murdered.”
Katherine felt a chill run through her body. “What?”
The inspector drew a slow breath. “Some lived at Mon Repos, the others in similar institutions around the world. The locations were attacked in conjunction with the strike on Grover’s Mill. The half-kinds were slaughtered along with their teachers, support staff, security personnel . . . and those mothers who lived with their children. There were no survivors. Analysis of the crime scenes suggest all victims were subjected to unspeakable barbarity before they died. We managed to comfort a few souls, but most were lost.”
“Devoured, you mean. The way they were devoured at Grover’s Mill.”
“Yes.”
“Because of me, because of Max? Because the killers were looking for us?”
“We thought that at first. Turns out they knew your location before the attacks even began. A fact made clear to us when Mon Repos was attacked after Grover’s Mill, after they had already taken your son from you.”
“The killers murdered the children for nothing? Why?”
“Because, Madame Taylor, these killers are evil. They torture and they enslave, they kill and devour souls of the innocent. Frankly, the likes of me are all that stand between them and the complete conquest of paradise.”
“Paradise.”
“Yes, paradise.”
Katherine wanted to tell the cop the same thing she’d told Harper: You and all your fucking friends crawled out of the same stinking gutter. She sighed instead and received another hit of comforting warmth. She stared at the inspector.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why is your tie the same color as the stuff going into my vein?”
“You are receiving a potion to hold at bay the sorrow crushing down on your soul, something to sustain a hope that your son will be returned to you. Corporal Mai suggested that wearing a tie of the same color would increase the potion’s effect.”
“You’re kidding.”
“As I said, Corporal Mai possesses acute sensitivities. How is the tie working?”
Katherine looked at the tie, then the stuff in the IV. She sighed. “Not too bad.”
“She will be very happy to hear it.”
Katherine continued to stare at him. “You know, for a cop, you’ve got the gift of gab.”
“Thank you.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Two and a half million years.”
“Where do you come from?”
“No idea.”
“Who sent you here?”
“Haven’t a clue.”
“So what do you know?”
“Not much beyond the fact we were sent to save all that’s left of paradise.”
“There’s that word again,” Katherine said.
“Yes, there it is.”
“I take it back about having the gift of gab. You’re crap.”
“Perhaps if you would allow me another go.”
“Why not? It’s your jet. And there’s a fat cat on my lap so I’m not moving anytime soon.”
The inspector walked to a window, gazed down onto the blue-tinted ice.
“The world you live in, all of you, it’s not the way it was supposed to be. In the beginning, given its placement in the solar system, this planet was to be home to a miraculous array of life based on natural selection. That’s the way it was planned as best we can imagine it. The first wave of our kind, a reconnaissance team, was sent down to watch over and guide the creation, particularly the early humanoids who were developing a sense of self-awareness combined with a free will that would make them the dominant species on the planet. The recon team had powers of observation and subliminal suggestion with which they could communicate with the beings of this world, but remain hidden from them. Their powers were only to be used in support of the mission and never to the detriment of any life-form. Simply put, the recon team’s mission brief was to guide the evolving humanoids to an understanding that because they were the dominant species on the planet, they were to be the caretakers of this miraculous world. That understanding would guide the species to the ultimate knowledge that this world was nothing more than a part of the singular living organism that is the universe. From there, it would be an easy step to the stars. Instead, the recon team discovered how easily free will could be manipulated in the humanoids by not just observing human dreams, but reshaping them. They became particularly entranced with reshaping the dreams of women. And in reshaping those dreams, our kind came in contact with pleasures they had never before experienced. They were then overcome with a desire to violate the bodies of women and breed a new race on earth. In this way our kind were made flesh and evil came into the world. Evil that slaughtered the innocent in order to lay wealth and power at the feet of the betrayers. Evil that was rewarded, even after death, with the power to devour human souls. Evil that is now leading to the destruction of your world and all life contained here, for no other reason than it is profitable to do so. Evil that was, in fact, a mutation introduced by my kind.”
The inspector walked back to the foot of the bed.
“That is where the likes of me entered the picture with orders to save what was left of paradise. We had no choice but to follow the betrayers into the forms of men in order to eradicate the mutation that had infected the creation. There has been a war between us and them for the soul of man ever since.”
“And that’s why the world is fucked up. That’s what you’re telling me.”
“Yes, in fact.”
Katherine looked down at Monsieur Booty. “You buying this?”
Mew.
“I’ll tell him.” She looked at the cop. “The cat says he’s not buying it because this sounds like a rip-off of the Bible. You know, all that ‘In the beginning’ stuff with God and the angels.”
“The concept of God you speak of is a human imagination, as are angels.”
“Then why does it sound like something out of the Bible?”
“The plain truth is, Madame Taylor, everything the likes of me know of our existence comes from the legends and myths and religions of men. That would include the Bible. Which puts us at great disadvantage. You see, the endgame of the paradise mission was classified and known only to the leader of the first wave. And while we all have the same powers, he alone was the keeper of the ultimate knowledge of who we are, where we come from, and why we were sent here. Though it appears, increasingly, that the reason my kind were sent here has everything to do with you and your son.”
“Two and a half million years later?”
“Yes.”
“You know, for someone who doesn’t know all that much, you sure had a lot to say.”
“In the last weeks a cache of intelligence was found at a house in Paris. We’re still sorting through much of it, but it is directing our attention to a whole new perspective regarding our existence and purpose here.”
“And your existence is tied up, somehow, with me and my son. As if, somehow, we’re part of your mission to save what’s left of paradise.”
“That is the truth of the matter. You see, you have been on the enemy’s radar from the day you wer
e born. They watched you, they paved your way to Switzerland with gold. It’s no surprise you followed them. It’s no surprise you became the in-demand escort for the Two Hundred Club. It was a front, providing them women for pleasure and breeding. Simply put, the enemy believed if they raped you and impregnated you with their own seed, then the life that was destined to be created within you would never be born. But you escaped from them after you were raped. They failed, they did not make you pregnant. That did not happen until you took sanctuary in Lausanne Cathedral.”
Katherine settled back in the pillows. “So what Harper told me down in the bunker. About the junkie being one of your crowd, and the light through the stained glass at Lausanne Cathedral. Him telling me he was protecting the life within my body. It really happened, it wasn’t a dream? Because all this time I thought it was a dream. And even when Harper told me it was real, I was sure he was feeding me another fairy tale. I still am, I think. Because that’s what you guys do. And I’m not sure you can make me believe anything else.”
Inspector Gobet walked to the IV stand, tapped the bottle. The purple stuff shimmered.
“I cannot make you believe anything one way or the other, Madame Taylor. Not our style, actually. Besides, does it matter?”
Katherine watched a drop fall from the bottle and into the tube. “Is that a trick question?” she said.
“Actually, it would be classified as an evaluative question. Something requiring the examination of an issue from all perspectives, however probable or improbable, to arrive at the truth of a particular situation.”
“So if I were to evaluate my particular situation, the truth would be what?”
The inspector held open the palms of his hands as if presenting the obvious. “That whether reality or fairy tale, this is where your consciousness resides.”
“Well, that’s not confusing. Not one bit.”
The cop pulled a penlight from an inner pocket of his suit coat. He pressed a button on the side and a thin beam of lapis-colored light came on. “I’m so glad. And as you’re in a more supine position, would you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“If I checked your eyes.”
“It’s still your jet, and the cat’s still on my lap.”