Age of X01 - Gameboard of the Gods (17 page)

“Would you like to?” he asked, slipping the ego back into his pocket. “We have the resources to help you.”

And that’s when Mae knew. Her breath caught. The Brödern, at long last. She’d tried getting information from them for years, but the Swedish mafia wasn’t all that eager to help someone in the military. She never thought they’d finally come through. “Tell me where she is.”

Emil shook his head, still wearing that condescending expression. “I can’t give it away so easily.”

Of course he couldn’t, but Mae was prepared for that. She’d had to be, with the kind of sordid contacts she’d made in this quest. “How much will it cost? I have Eastern currency.”

“Money, bah. We have plenty. What we don’t have is the influence and access of an enterprising young woman in one of the military’s most elite units.”

The insinuation was ludicrous. “I’m not going to use my position to help your group with whatever plots you’ve got going.”

“You should’ve joined us a long time ago,” he said ominously. “It’s your birthright.”

She wasn’t surprised by that attitude. Organizations like the Brödern tended to have separatist inclinations even more extreme than those of
regular patricians. Pointing out that she had more Finnish than Swedish blood, by Nordic ranking, probably wouldn’t make a difference.

“Sorry. I’m not interested in joining up.”

He tapped the pocket that his ego had disappeared into. “But you’re interested in this.”

“It could be a fake. It could be anyone.”

“Perhaps,” Emil conceded. He reached for his pocket again and this time pulled out a tiny, sealed plastic bag. He handed it to Mae and after several moments of hesitation, she took it with her left hand. A lock of golden hair was inside. “But this could only belong to one person.”

“You’re lying.”

He shrugged. “Get it tested and see. Maybe then you’ll show a little more respect for doing your duty.”

She had to force herself not to study the hair. “You still haven’t really explained what it specifically is you want in return.”

“It’ll depend on how we need to use you.”

“You think I’m going to trade some open favor?”

From his face, that was exactly what he thought. “It’s a small thing compared to all we’ve done for you and all we can do.” He nodded toward the hair. “Get it tested. Then we’ll talk.”

He began to walk away, and she toyed with the idea of shooting or at least tackling him. But he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. And so, Mae stayed where she was, watching until the darkness completely swallowed him. Only then did she put the gun away and slowly walk toward her town house, clutching the bag he’d given her.

CHAPTER 10

MASTER AND APPRENTICE

Justin’s first week flew by like some kind of dream. Part of it was spent getting up to speed with SCI and his upcoming caseload. He essentially had to be rehired, so there were countless authorization hoops to jump through and reams of the paperwork so ubiquitous in government. The delay gave him a lot of free time, allowing him to immerse himself back in the world he’d longed for these past four years.

He spent long days in the city, rebuilding his wardrobe—no more flammable knockoffs—and exploring old haunts. There was no difficulty in resuming his old vices. Sure, the stuff you could score around here wasn’t as lethal as Panama’s never-ending supply of drugs, but debauchery was one thing you could always count on, no matter the region, and it was easy enough finding dealers and shady doctors to give him the stimulants he used during the day and the more euphoric things he used to unwind.

One thing he hadn’t expected was a technological learning curve. People often said that if not for the Decline, mankind would’ve been off into the stars by now. Progress had stalled and even regressed in the chaos of the Decline, especially in other parts of the world. In the last decade or so, the RUNA—stabilized by its triumph over Mephistopheles—had rapidly made up for lost time. His time away had proved no exception. Justin saw progress in more than just the egos, and at times, it was a little embarrassing to have to learn something that was second nature to Quentin.

Of course, Justin had nowhere near the adjustment that Tessa had. She made admirable strides that first week, and though she was hesitant
to travel into the city as much as he did, she became obsessed with the media stream and would spend hours in front of the screen, watching anything she could get her hands on. TV, news, instructional videos…she took it all in, trying to become an expert in Gemman culture from the safety of their living room.

But he wasn’t convinced that was good enough. He hadn’t brought Tessa back to the RUNA so that she could hide away at home. She could’ve stayed in Panama for that. And so, the night before SCI finally told him it was time to get to work, Justin sacrificed a debauched send-off for himself to take his family out to dinner in the city. It was good for his relationship with Cynthia too. Despite living together, each had been preoccupied with adjusting to his or her new life and they hadn’t had nearly as much contact as they should’ve after a four-year separation.

Tessa gazed with wide eyes around the restaurant Justin had chosen. It served some of the best Thai food in Vancouver but had exploited its popularity by pretty much covering every square inch of wall space with advertising screens. Even Justin, who’d grown up with constant media exposure, had to admit the constantly changing images were a little distracting. But after being denied any real Asian cuisine in Panama, he found he could tolerate the media blasting.

“There’s so much…stuff,” Tessa said. “That’s the fifth ad I’ve seen for ego cases. Do you really need different ones to coordinate with your clothing?”

“Yes,” said Justin.

“Sometimes,” said Cynthia.

Justin didn’t pay much attention to Tessa’s dubious look because he decided the particular case she’d just pointed out would work perfectly with a suit he’d picked up yesterday. He held up his own ego, snapped a shot of the ad, and had an order placed in seconds.

Cynthia frowned in disapproval. “That’s so overpriced. You could get a cheaper one just like that at that store down on Market Street.”

“This one’s a Bloomfield,” he argued.

She still didn’t approve. “Label whore.”

He smiled at her. Life was still too good for him to be upset about
much of anything. He had his life, he had his family, he had his job. The only thing that could’ve made his situation better was having citizenship in the National Registry.

And the guarantee that you’re not going to get sent away,
said Horatio.

And Mae not hating you,
added Magnus.

Why are you guys such buzzkills?
Justin asked them.

But both were valid points, especially the former. As much as he’d enjoyed his mini-vacation, SCI’s bureaucratic delay had eaten up days he really couldn’t afford to waste. At least they’d reinstated his database access, so the time hadn’t been completely wasted. He’d been able to check current servitor records against what he remembered of cults that might have silver and moon connections, creating a list of groups worth visiting. He still wasn’t sure whether cracking the case would ensure or harm his ability to stay, but there was no use worrying about it tonight.

A server delivered several dishes to their table, all of which earned wary looks from Tessa—at least until the rice showed up. Her expression brightened at that and then almost comically plummeted again when she saw the chopsticks. Justin requested a fork for her but warned her that she needed to try everything.

“So this is what parenting’s like,” he murmured to Cynthia. Quentin had eagerly jumped in to teach Tessa how to use the chopsticks, just as he’d also volunteered to be her media guide. With his simpler explanations, Quentin actually did a pretty good job and seemed to have a crush on her to boot.

Cynthia shook her head. “You don’t know anything about parenting. Thankfully. It’s a lot harder than you think. Speaking of which…I don’t suppose you’ve told Mom you’re back?”

Justin nodded his thanks as a glass of bourbon arrived. Not the greatest complement to curry, but he felt he deserved something before returning to the grind tomorrow. “I don’t even think she realized I was gone. Besides, if she finds out about our living situation, she’ll want in on it too. Do you want to risk that?”

Cynthia answered with a grimace. No matter how different the siblings
had become, there were certain things they were still of one mind on.

“Oh,” Tessa breathed with pleasure, looking up from her pad Thai.

Justin followed her gaze to a commercial showing a model in a fuchsia party dress. “Look at that,” he said. “You’re a real girl after all. You want it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know how it would look.” Her Gemman wardrobe thus far had been ordered straight off the stream, consisting of everyday items in sensible colors. To everyone’s surprise, she’d taken to jeans right away, something Justin had been worried about after her lifetime of ankle-length skirts. He squinted at the address at the ad’s bottom.

“That’s right around the corner,” he said. “We can stop by after dinner.”

“No way,” said Cynthia. “I don’t want to go into that store. All those girls are half my age. It makes me feel like I’m clutching desperately at my youth.”

“Whatever you say, old lady. I’ll go with Tessa.”

“Yeah, because that’s not creepy at all.”

In the end, they decided to split up. Cynthia returned home with Quentin, and Justin took Tessa shopping. His sister wasn’t entirely off about the weirdness of being a thirtysomething guy in a teen girls’ clothing store, but it wasn’t like he was trying things on with her. He turned her over to a capable saleswoman, who was more than happy to show Tessa to the advertised dress…and many more.

Justin made himself comfortable on a purple bench near the dressing rooms. A screen on the wall flashed the day’s news stories.
Cyn is wrong. Parenting’s not that hard as long as you have an open wallet,
he told the ravens.

Horatio didn’t agree.
Thank the gods you haven’t yet impregnated anyone.

I told you not to bring up any gods now that we’re back. I’m in enough trouble.

Not talking about something won’t make it go away,
Horatio warned him.

His mental conversation was interrupted by the sight of a familiar face on the screen. His jaw nearly hit the floor. “Is that Lucian?” he asked aloud. The question was rhetorical, but a hovering saleswoman heard him.

“Lucian Darling? Of course it is.”

The volume was off, but a headline on the screen read:
Consular Candidates Make Campaign Stops.
Justin had to read it twice. “He’s…running for consul?”

The saleswoman, who’d seemed quite charmed by Justin when he came in, now looked at him like he was crazy. “How can you not know that?”

“Even I know that,” said Tessa, timidly stepping out in the pink dress.

“You live in front of the screen,” he said. He glanced back at the beaming senator as he shook hands with a crowd. “What the hell did he do to his hair? Are those highlights?”

“They’re hot,” said the saleswoman.

Justin didn’t dignify that with a response and instead tried to focus on Tessa and the dress. The bold color contrasted with her nervousness, but overall, the look transformed her. She looked like a typical Gemman girl.

“It’s cute,” he told her fondly. Tessa blushed with pleasure.

“Where would I wear this?” she asked.

“We’ll find a place,” he assured her. “Maybe the Feriae—the summer holidays.”

Or maybe a date,
suggested Horatio slyly.
Only a matter of time before boys come calling. Time to get a taste of your own medicine.

Shut up,
Justin told him.

In the end, at Justin’s urging, Tessa ended up with two dresses. As the saleswoman wrapped them up, Justin asked Tessa, “Tell me about Lucian, media expert. Why is he running for consul?”

She looked startled but proved to be a diligent reporter. “Because he wants to run the country? I don’t know. But he’s on the news every day. He’s one of the most popular candidates. They make a lot of jokes about his name, and his big thing is that it’s time to progress into the next phase. He says the Age of Decline is over and that the Age of Renewal
should be too, that it’s time for something bigger and greater. His campaign slogan is ‘Ushering in the New Age.’”

“Catchy. I knew that outstanding memory of yours would come in handy,” he told her.

Tessa smiled at him as she accepted the bag from the saleswoman. “His opponents give him a hard time about it not being specific enough. They call it ‘Darling’s Unknown Age’ and ‘Age of X.’ Do you know him?”

“He was my college roommate,” Justin said, still unable to believe this development. He’d always thought Lucian had gone into politics only to get wined and dined by lobbyists, a theory backed by Lucian’s having been on the most brainless senate committees available. How did one go from that to consul?

“You guys have the same smile, you know,” said Tessa after several moments of thought. “Did you guys practice with each other?”