“A fine weapon.” he said, turning the blade over in his hands, inspecting the edge. He came around the front of the desk and sat on a corner of it, a gesture that reminded me strangely of the priest at the South Boston mission where I grew up, sitting on his desk to offer fatherly advice or a stern reprimand to the wild street kid.
Garnoff held Talonclaw and toyed with the hilt as he spoke. “I was quite surprised to see you at the party. It showed unexpected resourcefulness. I fully expected you to skulk in the shadows a while longer before you tried to confront me. Still, I’m pleased you did it. It gave me an opportunity to see you at your best, before this.
“I would have expected a street mage of your. . . ‘rep’ as they say, to have noticed the little surprise I left with Trouble.”
He walked over to stand near Trouble and lightly caressed the side of her neck with one finger. Trouble flashed him a winsome smile that could melt the coldest heart. “Such an apt name.” he mused.
“The spell is really quite simple.” Garnoff sounded like a professor lecturing a room full of students. “It implants a powerful suggestion deep in the psyche, triggered by a specific set of circumstances later on. You see, I could have hired shadowrunners to track you down and bring you to me, but you street scum have a distressing tendency to take care of your own. Your involvement with Assets, Inc. and their ties to the Draco Foundation complicated matters. If agents went after you directly, you could simply go to ground and it would take a very long time to track you down again, and time is very important to me. You might have become suspicious, been put on the defensive.
“Instead, I placed this spell on Trouble without her knowledge, then arranged for her to believe she was in danger because of what she’d discovered for me thus far. It took no more than a gentle subconscious nudge to send her looking to you for help. I knew the mystery of someone looking into your past and the lure of a lady in distress would be too much for you to refuse. Everything I’ve learned about you so far says you like to handle such things personally. What else could you do but come to Boston to confront me? That brought you here, minus your friends from Assets.
“Once you arrived, it was only a matter of time before the opportunity to betray you presented itself and Trouble took it. Your intrusion into the Manadyne facility was one such opportunity. Unfortunately, you refused to allow Trouble to go along personally. She was able to send me a message about your intrusion, but I had to rely on less resourceful assistance.”
He threw a glance toward Isogi, who stiffened at the off-handed way Garnoff dismissed the yakuza.
“Still, it was only a matter of time. All of your so-called investigation was never of any concern. I knew I had time on my side all along. All I needed to do was wait for you to make your mistake, and Trouble would deal with you. Now you have done that. How did you put it? You only get so many mistakes, Talon.”
He shook his head with a mocking look of sadness.
“Magicians such as you who do not do their research deserve their fate. Evolution in action, my young alley runner: only the strong survive.”
“Why?” I said slowly and with visible effort. “Why are you doing this?”
Garnoff smiled and returned to his perch on the edge of his desk.
“Why?" he echoed, mocking my question. “Why do tigers hunt? Why do corporations acquire? It is the way of life. The strong consume the weak and use them to grow stronger. You could have been on the winning side, Talon. In fact, I actually imagined our first meeting many years ago, when you would have graduated from MIT&T and come to work for me.”
I kept my expression as neutral as possible, but Garnoff was obviously looking for a reaction. I just clenched my jaw and stared at him.
“Yes, I was the one who arranged for your recruitment.” he said. “You had such potential. Your Talent was strong and you clearly possessed an aptitude too great to waste doing hedge magic and charms in the gutters. You could have been so much more.
“But you wouldn’t leave. You knew no other life and you couldn’t see the potential I saw in you. Your . . . teacher wanted to keep you in the gutter with him, mold you in his image. No different from what I wanted, I suppose, except I had the means to make things happen. I was sure once you were in the proper environment, you would come around.”
“You killed him.” I said thickly. I knew it was true, but I had to hear him say the words himself.
“No.” Garnoff said. “I
had
him killed. A subtle, but important, difference.”
“You son of a bitch.” I said. My muscles tensed but I didn’t move from the chair. I couldn’t. Not yet. Triumph radiated off Garnoff in waves. He was really enjoying this, the sick frag.
“Enough.” Tomo Isogi said from somewhere behind me. There was a touch of irritation and impatience in his voice. “We have brought him to you as you requested, Garnoff
-san
. Now get the information you need from him so we can conclude this business. The oyabun cannot be kept waiting. He still expects a full report on your progress.”
“Of course.” Garnoff said, “but I cannot interrogate him here. I have made other arrangements. I will get the information I need and then I will be able to provide Hiramatsu
-sama
with a complete report in a day or two.”
“That is not acceptable.” Isogi replied. “I am not leaving until I have more information to bring back to the oyabun.”
“I cannot interrogate him here.” Garnoff repeated. “I require tools I have elsewhere.”
“Then I will go with you, Garnoff-
san
, to ensure that our interests are maintained.”
Garnoff looked past me at Isogi for several long seconds before replying. “Very well.” he said, “if that is your wish, so be it.” He took a dark overcoat from a rack near the door and shrugged into it.
“Bring our prize, Isogi. I have someone who’s very eager to see him again.”
Trouble came over and helped one of the yakuza lift me from the chair. Her gaze flicked across mine for a second, then her face resumed a look of bland disinterest.
We made our way back down the elevator to the parking garage. Trouble took the wheel of the van while Garnoff sat in the passenger seat. With only a moment of hesitation, Isogi climbed into the back with me and one of his bodyguards, after giving instructions to the other, no doubt to carry a message to his oyabun. He clearly didn’t trust Garnoff, and he kept a careful watch on him and me both.
We only went a short distance, to a public parking garage. The place was filling up with people going to various parties and festivities in the clubs and hotels of the city. Everyone wore different costumes, tending toward frightening images of ghouls, vampires, and other creatures of the night. It was still Halloween Night then, Samhain, the night when the walls between the physical world and the astral plane were the thinnest.
Amidst the crowd of party-goers, we attracted little attention. If anyone noticed Isogi and his bodyguard practically carrying me down the stairs of the subway station, they saw only some friends helping another who’d gotten an early start on the party. There were several other people around who’d clearly been drinking or slotting recreational chips. No one thought anything was wrong.
The subway car was filled with a crowd of strange figures. It was a mix of corporate “straight citizens.” street-types, and people dressed in the most outlandish costumes. For one night, all standards were turned upside-down. Some of the street-types wore their leathers and chains uncomfortably, playing on the wild side for a little while. I wondered how many real ghouls, ghosts, and vampires were abroad tonight. I knew of only one for sure and he sat quietly, with a smug look on his face, enjoying the spectacle.
The softly glowing green time display on the edge of my field of vision read 23:41:08. I thought about how deep underground we were. I hoped a signal could carry to the surface well enough from here. If it didn’t, the others couldn’t find me. I was very likely a dead man.
“I demand to know where we are going.” Isogi said quietly to Garnoff, barely audible over the shriek of the train as it rumbled and lurched through the tunnels.
“In good time, Isogi-
san,
in good time.” the mage muttered. “We are nearly there.”
We got off at the stop where Garnoff told us and made our way through the throngs of people on the platform to the tunnel itself. T-security had their hands full keeping an eye on everything going on in the trains and on the platform. No one noticed us slip away down the tunnel. I sensed a hint of magic in the ease of our movements. Garnoff was probably using illusions to conceal our movements. It would be easy in the Halloween crowd, where there were so many things to distract an onlooker’s attention already.
The side tunnel was dark and dank, filled with a scent of rusting metal and damp decay. Over the rumbling and screeching of the trains, I could hear the sounds of small creatures squealing and scurrying past in the shadows. Isogi was looking quite uncomfortable as we made our way down the tunnel. His bodyguard and Trouble wore emotionless masks, and Garnoff seemed to almost shiver with barely controlled anticipation.
The tunnel ended in a brick wall, but Garnoff didn’t miss a beat. He drew a slim white wand from his coat and began to trace symbols in the air in front of the wall, muttering quietly under his breath. As he did, I noticed the dull, creaking sound that provided a faint counterpoint to the chants. The passes of the wand left faintly glowing images in its wake that seemed to sink into the wall itself and disappear.
“The wall is nothing more than an illusion covering a protective barrier.” Garnoff said. “Take him through.”
Isogi and his bodyguard paused for a moment and looked at each other. Garnoff sighed and turned to Trouble.
“Demonstrate, won’t you, my dear?” he said with exaggerated patience. Trouble looked at Garnoff for a moment, then nodded and walked carefully into the wall. She passed through it like smoke and vanished from sight. The yakuza carried me by the arms and led me stumbling through the illusion, into the room beyond.
Trouble stood near the entrance, looking rather pale. The room had likely been some kind of maintenance or storage room at one point, but its gray walls were bare of any furnishings or adornment. A ring of standing torches stood in a circle around the center of the room. Dark, hunched figures clustered in the shadows near the walls of the chamber.
In the center of the room dangled a burned and blackened corpse, hanging by its neck from a rope affixed to one of the heavy pipes that ran along the ceiling. The body swayed slightly and the rope creaked, the only sound in the room except for the occasional whisper or giggle from the shadows. The body did not move. It showed no outward signs of life, but the hanging corpse’s burning blue eyes still held the fires of anger and hatred. They seemed to stare right at me and bore into my own eyes. I felt like a bird facing the paralyzing gaze of a cobra.
Memories of the metaplanes flooded back, and I saw my own twisted reflection staring at me from the mirror in the citadel. A dry and crackling voice whispered in my mind.
Hello, father,
Gallow said.
It’s been a very long time.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tomo Isogi said, looking aghast as his eyes went from the hanging body to Garnoff and back again. “Is
this
what you have been using our money for? Explain yourself at once.”
“Gladly, Isogi
-san
.” Garnoff said with an oily smile. “My research discovered a spirit of unprecedented power and potential imprisoned here. With the aid of your oyabun and the resources of my corporation, I have learned a great deal about this spirit and offered it a means of achieving its freedom. In return, it will grant us magical power enough to crush your enemies and establish the Hiramatsu-
gumi
as the ruling force of the Boston underworld. That will in turn grant Mitsuhama additional leverage in the metroplex, enough to edge out Novatech and any other company that opposes us here.”
“And what of you?” Isogi said, his eyes narrowing. “Do you remain a humble servant of the company and the oyabun?”
“
Of
course.” Garnoff said. “Although I am sure my station will be greatly improved by my success. And, of course, I will hold the secrets that will allow me to influence further research and development on the part of Mitsuhama.”
“What of them?” Isogi said, gesturing toward the figures lurking in the shadows. “Who are they?”
“Barukumin.” Garnoff said, using the Japanese word for outcasts, the “untouchable” caste of Japanese society. In the Awakened world, the barukumin mostly consisted of the most hideous of metahumans, their bodies and minds twisted by the return of magic. “They live down here in the Catacombs and know them well. I pay them to serve as my eyes and ears and hands in this place. They are also versed in certain rites I have taught them, allowing them to assist me with my rituals.”
Isogi was clearly uncomfortable with the presence of so many twisted metahumans. Most Japanese didn’t care for
kawaru,
the “changed.” as they called them. Still, Garnoff ’s explanation made it clear the barukumin were servants, and that was a concept Isogi could deal with.
“And this . . . spirit.” Isogi said with some distaste, looking over at the hanging corpse. “You can control it?”
Garnoff held out his hands. “Not control, Isogi
-san
.” he said carefully. “It is willing to become our ally, provided we help it escape from the prison of flesh it is trapped in.”