by A. J. Mayall
The doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway, the walls ornate wood, inlaid with brass and steel in geometric patterns. The lights came from three rows above them and one on each side, just over their hips in height. Guess and Gemini passed through the hallway, the wood panel giving way to more brass and steel, in wispy patterns. Slowly, the patterns changed until the brass and steel gave the place a soulless, sterile look.
It was like an operating room, Gemini had felt the first time he met Ahkriman so many years ago; these days, a morgue would make a more accurate comparison. The air grew colder as they approached the only other entryway, a set of double doors. Gemini knew them to be giant sequoia, made before they weren’t allowed to be harvested. He reached out and pulled the doors out, showing a metal door with an access card panel above the handle. Once more, he slid in his card, and after a brief hiss, the inner door swung open.
Guess flicked her wrist, the knife landing in her palm, and with a few twists and spins, pocketed the closed blade back in her pocket.
Mr. Grimace, or more accurately, Kramer nodded to them.
“Your papers are printed out already inside. Will you be handling the presentation, Ms. Levicia?”
“I will,” she said coldly.
“Mr. Gemini, do you wish to wait out here?”
Reginald Gemini straightened his lapels, knowing Kramer expected him, as he had so many times in the past, to sit idly by, to only go in if requested and to give input as needed.
“No, I need to speak with him first.”
Kramer scoffed, “Well I don’t think he’s particularly in spirits for that.”
Gemini glared at Kramer, eyes twinkling once more, but in a cold anger. “I do not care,” he stated, walking toward the door.
Kramer moved to intercept, putting a hand on Gemini’s right elbow, only to find himself in pain a moment later. Guess was still on duty; doing joint locks was no difficult task, and when he went to yell, he realized that blade was at his throat.
“I believe they have equal power in this company, Kramer. Let him go or lose the hand.”
Kramer snarled and relented as Gemini walked in.
The room was cold, and the light was dimmed to that of a reading room. From wall to ceiling was medical equipment and personnel in clean room attire walking about quietly.
In the middle of the room, facing a set of computer screens was Mr. Ahkriman. His skin was paper thin, and covered in bandages. It had been decades since we was able to stand. A simple black cloth robe covered his bony frame, a mess of wires and tubes and IVs running amok through his body. It was old, gnarled and twisted. What little hair grew on his head was pulled back and cascaded down his right shoulder.
His face was mostly obscured by the breathing mask, but his eyes. Dark, piercing, intense eyes. Eyes that could stare down the devil and make him turn off the flames of hell from the velocity of his flight from them.
“Reginald,” he hissed, a bony hand reaching to pull off the mask. “I was expecting your gladiator.”
“I fell on a sword for you today. It is not going to happen again; am I understood?”
“You’ll do what is required,” he wheezed, hearing the beeps of the monitoring equipment speed up. A set of attendants came to the mechanical chair he was grafted into, moving behind it and pulling out green wrist-thick vials with red items floating within. They were quickly put into a disposal chamber labeled bio-medical waste. He winced as new cells were installed in the back of his chair.
“The project was a success. Cain did as you needed him to.”
“Of course he did,” Ahkriman said as he exhaled, inhaling a strained breath, responding on the exhale once more. “He’s a good boy who does what he’s told.”
“We lost the contract with the military. You were right about Mr. McGee; he’ll be tricky to deal with.”
“You have him under your thumb, right?” came the hissed reply.
“No, and good for him. I’m willing to do many things, but you kidnapped children.”
“Basseri needed to be dealt with.”
“What was your fixation on the man?” Gemini yelled, the attendants plugging in the last cell and hitting a switch on the side of the chair, fluids being pumped into his veins and under his ribs into his body cavities. “Kidnapping? A child? Now this GearWitch you are obsessed with believes me his enemy.”
“Bad position to be in. Look at me.” Ahkriman wheezed out a chuckle, the corner of his lip splitting slightly from the smile.
“What. Is. He?”
“Salvation, Reginald. As for Basseri, a skill set like his can’t be allowed to exist off the game board. People have a certain…” He paused, licking the blood off his lips, “…frequency at which they behave. This operation was at a resonant tone. You know what happens to a glass when you hit the right note…”
“I liked Mr. McGee.”
“Bad move, Gemini. I didn’t bring you on…”
He closed his eyes, the chair spinning and showing the various tubes and life support systems plugged into the man’s nearly bared spine through thick medical plastic.
“…as my protégé to befriend a GearWitch. I am happy you located one.”
“Not again. I will not fall on a goddamn sword for you again. If half of what you say is true, I won’t watch everything I’ve done go down the toilet because you would rather break a system than improve it!
“Come now, the reports I saw showed the tech installed in the meat that registered the bio-signatures of the rest of the test subjects well. I made sure the meat was taken from the police station. You made sure it was taken care of.”
Reginald Gemini groaned as he saw the lumps in the cells jostle, the green gel they floated in obscuring them.
“I’m taking over your life support project in Panacea. Your cells, it’s hard to make appropriate…medicine…for you. Too much DNA has unraveled over time. It has to be, well, restored like an ancient manuscript or a painting.”
“I don’t care, just do it,” he hissed, heading to a darkened corner of the room. His sunken eyes glinted as he looked at the breathing lump under a full body sheet, restrained by straps.
“How can you stand to do it?”
“It isn’t cannibalism if it is your own stem cells.” He gestured with a hand, wincing as his ancient skin split, an attendant running over to bandage it. He stopped the chair and turned back to Gemini. “Cain did well?”
“He didn’t defeat the GearWitch, but he fought him to a standstill for nearly ten minutes.”
“Good boy. Good boy indeed. Go back up, Reginald. I’ll have Kramer give the reports. I’m certain your gladiator has made enough copies. She is so very reliable; more so than Kramer, if I do say so myself.”
“I’m warning you, Ahkriman. You don’t do that again.”
“I’m telling you, Gemini. I do as I please. Out.”
Reginald Gemini turned his head in disgust as Ahkriman’s decrepit form turned in his chair, seeing the twisting red shapes seem to struggle in their cells. He exited the door, leaving Ahkriman alone; he waved for an attendant to lift the sheet off the form.
“He’s waking up.”
Ahkriman leaned over and hissed, seeing the mangled, reconstructed aberration before him, a patchwork man.
“Wake up, Mr. Basseri. I didn’t have myself burned in effigy for you to sleep so long.
“UGhnnnnnn…” Was the only response, tongue flapping as the puffed out eyelids opened.
“You’re legally dead, Mr. Basseri, and I’ve needed a man like you in my employ for some time. I’d apologize for the pain, but I’ve been through worse, I’m going through worse.”
“Greuuuuhhhgggnn?”
“Words are beyond you, Mr. Basseri. You’ll be able to craft a new identity, a new face, everything. We had to take the old one away first. Every. Inch. Of. Skin.” The old, old, old man giggled. “Consider it a blank slate. Fresh start. You want that don’t you?”
“Hgggnnnnnneeee?”
“If you don’t, however, you’ve already been cremated once. I can see to it you are again. I suggest thinking it over, we’ll talk again soon.”
Ahkriman turned and looked as Kramer walked in.
“Sir, I have the report on the project. They didn’t classify it under the project name, though.”
“They didn’t know the name. Had Abel in there with them. Project name was a failsafe.”
“Well, I need to know it to file the data. What was that cube called?”
“Named it after the person who showed me the light, Mr. Kramer. You file all of this under Project: Gypsy Moroux.”
The call had stunned Francesca, and when Phoenix arrived at her office, it was only minutes after Gregori Stevenson, whom she had summoned summarily.
“I’m here to pay off my debts to you.”
Francesca looked to Gregori and then back to Phoenix.
“Well, you still owe quite a bit; how much did you want to pay of the total?”
Phoenix looked with unemotional eyes, something that Francesca was put off by.
“I’m here to pay it all off.”
Gregori chuckled, “I’d like to see that. I’ve been shown your payment history.”
Phoenix reached into his wallet and tossed his debit card on the desk.
“You’re the middleman, right? That means you swipe the card and tell her she’s paid off. Then you leave me the fuck alone.”
Stevenson reached down and took the card, placing it into a small reader on his phone and swiped. After a moment, he looked to Francesca and showed her the screen.
“He’s paid in full,” he said, dropping the card back on the desk.
Francesca blinked and looked to Phoenix, inviting him to sit. A look of worry crossed her features.
“Phoenix, dear, where did you get this money?”
He took the card and put it back in his wallet, “AGI. Gemini himself wanted to pay me for the Benton case, for the effective cover-up I did for him, and he wants me on retainer.”
At the mention of being on retainer, Gregori stammered, only to be cut off by Phoenix.
“I turned him down…”
“Oh. Thank goodness. AGI would be a great client to have.”
“I wasn’t done. I turned him down for now, and stipulated if he wanted to get into my good graces, he wasn’t to go to Pyramidion.”
“You son of a…”
“Lobster.”
Gregori scowled, but soon Francesca waved him away. “Mr. Stevenson, as your services are no longer required, please leave.”
Gregori hurriedly exited, giving Phoenix a dirty look the entire time. When the doors closed, Francesca gestured to the chair again.
“Please, sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Why would you take that man’s money? Why would you even consider working for him?”
“Honestly? To get you off my back, Francesca. I know I’m not the best man around, but I try my damnedest. I keep my word. I honor my debts. I protect those near me. I can’t do that with someone who hates me keeping me under tabs.”
“Phoenix, I don’t hate you. I’m scared for you. After everything Sebastian Gerard did…”
Phoenix screamed, “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not him! I didn’t ask for these powers, and I’m trying to live a normal life despite them! You just don’t give me a break. How the hell am I supposed to do my duties and juggle a normal life with you digging your damn claws into me? When I was at my lowest, you were there for me, and I’m grateful. But this,” he gestured to himself, thin from lack of food, in the same jeans he wore the day before, “I can’t keep doing. So yeah, I took the blood money because it was a better choice than having to be in debt to you.”
Francesca felt tears well up, “Phoenix, I’m sorry. I thought I could dissuade you. When Suzette decided to join up with you…”
“Yeah, I know all this, I’ve been living it for the past two years. You wanted to control me, to keep me locked up in that Fort Knox of Eldritch Artifacts you have upstairs.”
“I wanted you to protect them,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t fathom why you would think I’m so terrible that you’d take that man’s money.”
“You left me no choice. You know who you remind me of, with all the good intentions and back-stabbing? Sebastian Gerard, Jeremiah, whatever he calls himself. No wonder you two got along so well. I’ll have the deed to the building now.”
Francesca nodded and reached into a drawer, pulling it out and handing it up to Phoenix.
“Thank you. I want you to know, I don’t hate you, Francesca. However, I will not be controlled or manipulated by anyone, ever again.”
“Nor should you. I wanted to toughen you up, but I think I did too good of a job.”
With that, he turned and left the office; he had one more stop to make.
As he exited, he saw Gregori outside the door.
“What do you want, Greg?”
“Bugs.”
“What?”
“It’s my power. You had asked. I can control and talk to bugs. When you zipped around you ran into some gnats, mosquitos, or a fly or two. That was me keeping tabs. It’s why I was hired. I’m literally able to be the fly on the wall. Now that the job is done, I thought it fair to come clean with you.”
Phoenix nodded, then smiled, “That’s nice. I’m part of an ancient order of history manipulators that are attuned to and can alter the very fundamental laws of reality and causality, and it’s outside the realm of Omnus and Stygus. Since you asked, as well.”
Gregori inched away.
“Glad we understand each other, Stevenson.”
Phoenix left the Chester building, heading back toward his office for the final stop.
Phoenix smiled as he pet the black cat that resided in Books of Genesis. He looked around, moving from popular fiction, all the way to self-help and educational resources. He grabbed a couple hardcover books about the same size from the shelves. He flipped them open and looked at the inside dustcovers, smiling wide.
“Find anything you like, Phoenix?” Genesis piped up, already prepping the espresso machine for a decaf latte.
“Not right now, Gen, but thanks, wanted to look at a couple things.”
“Any interesting cases?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Gen scoffed. “I saw enough of that video, had to light a candle for you.”
“You didn’t see the half of it.”
“And I don’t need to,” she laughed.
Phoenix paused and slapped one of the heavy tomes against his opposite hand. “Actually, I will be getting a book.”
Gen shrugged and headed over to the register, her neighbor stepping up and setting the book down. She looked it over and began to tap on her old style cash register.
“Didn’t think this would be your thing, kinda heavy stuff.”
“Hey, I need to to be best me I can be, right, Gen?”
“Give it a rest. Total’ll be four hundred seventy two dollars and forty two cents.”
Phoenix blinked and grabbed the book, going wide eyed as he checked the price. Gen scowled and reached up to flick him on the nose.
“Cleaning costs for the wall outside. Had to powerwash a lot of blood off from your little escapade.”
“Yeah, I meant to talk to you about that.”
“I won’t ask a damn thing if you pay it off, right now.”
Phoenix nodded and handed over his card. She swiped and dipped her rainbow locks to him.
“Always good doing business with you. This, I will add to your punch card.” She smiled and gave him the coffee and three additional punches towards a donut.
“I didn’t order coffee.”
“You were going to.”
Phoenix shrugged, tucking the book under his arm and gave a two-finger salute off the corner of his brow as he jogged across the street, coffee in hand, smiling to Suzette.
“So, I got that
book you were reading. You were right! I really do need to expand my horizons.”
Suzette looked at the tome on her desk. “Really?” she said, pausing nervously.
Phoenix grinned. “I can’t wait to discuss it with you, I mean. This is pretty deep stuff. Hell, I bet we could spend every lunch for a month just on the first few chapters.”
She stood and slammed the book down. “How the hell did you figure it out?”
“That you’ve been reading Seymour of the World with a different dust jacket on it, so I wouldn’t geek out with you? Simple: Seymour’s binding is green and Art of Madness’ is pink and purple. Very Cheshire Cat. Gemini had it in his office.” He paused at the stairs leading up to his room, before turning to look at her. “How far did you get?”
“Just finished it,” she grumbled, looking at him sideways, arms crossed over her chest.
“Seriously, did you see it coming, the time travel experiment causing him to open a frozen yogurt stand during the time of cavemen…”
“I know, right?!” she said, incredulously.
“Why’d you hide it, Suzette? I mean, you went to the trouble of getting a book you wouldn’t read just to hide something from me. Why that book, anyways?”
“What better way to hide a damn good book than to slap a pretentious title on it? All the crazy stuff going on here, I feel like I’ve been given a crash course on that particular art style.”
Phoenix moved to walk upstairs, and stopped again.
“We need to talk more. Not just in a goofy insult being flung. I mean, I…” He looked down and then up at her, in the eye. “You’re my best friend. If you had those suspicions about Jack and Dorian, I could have helped. I mean you got kidnapped, set yourself up as prey. I could have…”
Suzette cut him off, “Don’t go there; I am not some girl in a tower who needs a knight in shining armor to save me. I can take care of myself.”
Phoenix turned to look at her. “This has nothing to do with that. You’re my friend. I want to help you not because of my powers, but because you matter to me. Just let me in sometimes, okay? I know you can take care of yourself, but come on. If you’re going to kick a pack of werewolves’ ass, I wanna be there to see it!”
Suzette blushed and laughed, nodding. “Point taken. You look tired; get much sleep?”