Then it was time for more red-tape bullshit.
Considering I'm referring to people's lives, that sounded pretty
glib. Then again, getting bogged down in the morality of it all
wasn't going to do me any good.
For the next goddamn week, it was nothing but
meetings, discussions, messaging, and more meetings. Getting all
the minions organized and deciding on plans was a brain-numbing
pain in the ass, all just so Viggo could take an extended vacation
in a stone coffin. I'm not gonna drag you through the details, so
this is it in a nutshell in case you give a shit:
* My mentor turned out to be Grigori
Olinchenko. Viggo had the wandering Outsider pay off his debt by
sticking around for a while to help me if I needed it. Grigori
didn't seem to mind.
* ShadoWorks gave my LLC, Norbeck Limited, a
chunk of land in a growing eastern K.C. Suburb; that land had a
recently vacated bowling alley on it (closed because of lease
violations).
* Viggo had his construction minion design
and began rebuilding the interior of the bowling alley into an
indoor shooting range, complete with a restricted-access apartment
below part of it.
* I named the shooting range 'Corrective
Action'.
* A huge chunk of starting capital was given
to Norbeck to cover all fees, construction costs, décor and fancy
touches, upcoming salaries, full inventory, and any other damn
thing I could think of.
* Gwen chose to work for me. Traeg was farmed
out to Skin - a logical move.
* Viggo insisted - more like demanded - that
I include two of his personal property managers, reclusive Keith
Pierson and Norwegian Rolf Staalsen, as minions. I did.
* Besides Gwen, Keith and Rolf, my other
necessary minion choices (because of how long they'd been serving
Viggo) were the Water Department supervisor and the construction
company owner/operator.
* Rune, one of Viggo's elder minions (and the
only one I knew), decided to continue in my service; her candid
opinion of Skala was unflattering.
* I offered Gwen a job as general manager of
Corrective Action, and contacted Diego (who had been relegated to
light contracts at Silas) about the floor manager position; they
both accepted.
* Skin took over Gwen's security tape
scanning duties; Barnabus was given Agent Rutherford of the FBI,
the janitor at Realm, and Natalie at the IRS.
I realize shuffling all of Viggo's minions
around like that makes it sound like we were herding cattle and
bringing them to auction. . . Well, shit, that's pretty much what
it was. I wasn't fond of the idea or the practice, but Viggo made
it clear that having human pawns increases the odds of a hemo's
survival. And I was all about survival.
FAREWELL
It was time to say goodbye to Viggo. All the
loose ends were tied off, all his ducks were in a row, and he was
ready to go. More than ready, actually - I'd never seen him so
mellow and content. He, Aldo and I were once again in the Deviant
cave, the one with modern electronics, a bed in an alcove, and bits
and pieces of history scattered around the big room.
I had to ask, "Sir, why are we meeting here?
I thought we'd all be down where your sarcophagus is."
"You were hoping to perhaps tuck your sire
in? How sentimental," Aldo interjected with a sour tone.
"Could you stop being a condescending shit
stain for one minute?" The words slipped out before I could stop
myself, but I didn't regret saying them.
"Scions, please," Viggo said casually from
the comfort of a recliner chair. "I will not let bickering be the
last words I hear for centuries. Leo, to answer your question, Aldo
has not mastered the Gift of the Void to the degree I have. He can
transport himself only, so you would be trapped there. That
limitation is why your blood-brother flew into town; he wanted two
of his minions with him."
I was in no position to throw that in Aldo's
face. "Oh, okay," I said quickly to move past it. "What about
Clara? Why isn't she here with us to see you off?"
"I have already spoken with her." He turned
his head to Aldo. "She has been made aware that you will also be
leaving this evening, and that she may call you at any time for any
reason." Viggo ignored his frown and said to me, "Clara has also
been informed of the location of your future residence, Leo."
"And she'll always be welcome there, sir.
Don't worry, I'll keep my word."
Satisfied with my response, Viggo changed the
subject. "Aldo, you only slumbered for 144 years, but you were
woken prematurely. I expect to rest for much longer. However, I
will allow you, Leo, to rouse me once you are able to travel to my
resting place."
"What, you mean void-walk? Uh, okay." I
turned to Aldo and asked, "How long did it take you to learn the
Void Gift to that level?"
He locked his shark eyes on mine. "The
stronger the ability of a Gift, Mr. Beck, the longer it takes to
acquire it." With an implied challenge, he gave me the answer. "I
practiced for nearly four centuries to learn void-walking."
Well, fuck. I couldn't picture forty years
ahead, let alone four hundred.
Viggo spoke again, pulling me from my
thoughts. "None but you, my own progeny, know without doubt that I
am going to take my slumber at last. It would be best to keep that
secret, if only for the sake of keeping the local collective
wary."
"What of the two Deviants to whom you offered
a number of your lesser minions?" Aldo asked.
Viggo shrugged. "Although Mr. Merritt and Mr.
O'Shaughnessy have strong suspicions of my plans, they have no fact
or proof. I did not insult them with lies, but neither did I
disclose any motives behind my generosity. While they may have most
likely come to the correct conclusion, I believe they both have the
wisdom not to speak of their presumptions."
"Yeah, I don't think they would," I
agreed.
Viggo pushed himself out of the chair. "It is
time to bid this age of gadgetry a fond farewell." We stood, and he
shook our hands. "My good scions, I must depart. May you fare well
and account for yourselves honorably. Auf Wiedersehen." He
straightened his coat and walked back into the shadows near the
bed. As an expanding pocket of the void gathered in front of him,
he turned and looked at me. "Leo," he said, "you have begun well,
but you should have had better insight when you bartered with me.
The 'hall of gates', as you called it . . . Did you think that was
the only one?"
Son of a bitch - I should've known. I was
about to say something, but he turned and disappeared. No long,
weepy goodbyes for my sire. Viggo was gone. There was an unexpected
loneliness attached to that fact, and also a mild sensation of
freedom. I wasn't going to dwell on it.
"I must be on my way as well," Aldo
announced, like it was just as big of a deal. "Kurt and Karl have
my luggage and await my presence."
Trying one last time to be nice, I asked,
"Did you want a ride back out to the airport?" I was hoping he'd
say no, but I at least made a half-assed effort. A wasted effort,
as it turned out.
"No need," Aldo replied with a surly tone.
"Goodbye, Mr. Beck." He went to the same dark spot as Viggo had
and, without another word, created his own void and stepped into
it. I wasn't sorry to see Aldo go. I wondered why he stuck around
as long as he did. Then again, he was gone, so I stopped giving a
shit.
I stood there in silence for a few seconds,
alone in a cave decorated with someone else's extensive past. On my
way out, I noticed something on the table next to the sturdy iron
door. On a whim, I thought, Eh, fuck it, someone's bound to take it
- may as well be me. The helmet full of coins jingled as I made my
way up the narrow stairs.
STRANGE
Three nights later, it was only about an hour
before dawn when I pulled my truck into the big garage of the
thunderdome. It'd been a good night. I was actually happy. Go
figure.
I woke up with an idea of how to plan my
minion feedings. Viggo needed to feed his minions every five weeks
or so. With my slightly weaker blood, the time got condensed. So, I
thought of the lunar cycle. Every new moon, I'd meet all my minions
individually. Not a bad plan, right?
The evening started with a meeting I'd
arranged with Gwen and Diego at the refurbished fire station. I
figured since they were going to be running my gun range, they'd
better get used to each other. Gwen knew how to run things and keep
a tight ship; she did it all at Silas. Diego, besides being good
with people, knew more about guns than I ever would. I was relieved
to have them both.
I'd planned ahead, and Gwen was on board. I
let her and Diego talk for a while before I made myself known.
Using a trick I learned from Viggo, I used strips of the void to
cover my face within the hood of my jacket. Diego freaked out a
little, but not too bad. Gwen and I talked to him about the
well-hidden, darker existence we were involved with. I gave him the
choice to be part of it.
Gwen drank first from my Viking horn. With
her assurance, Diego sipped and then gulped. He stopped smiling
when I let my face be seen, but his stare was one of intense
curiosity rather than horror.
After the meeting with Gwen and Diego was
another short one with Ed Lockwood, the construction company boss.
I met him at his house with the intention of getting to know him
better, and also to get a set of keys to my new place. While I was
there, I told Ed I wanted a big garage bay attached with a security
door from the storage room. Hey, I was a business owner; I wasn't
gonna leave my truck out in the parking lot.
The sign for Corrective Action was up, the
reworked exterior was almost complete, and the lot had new tar and
paint. The inside was coming together quick. Permits were hung on a
wall, codes were being met, and there was probably less than a
week's worth of work to be done.
There were plans to open the doors around the
first of September after Gwen and Diego hired a staff, got a
website going, advertised, and stocked up on inventory. All I cared
about was getting a t-shirt with the cool logo on it. You know -
priorities.
Finally, I checked out my underground
apartment. There'd never been any plans made for it that I knew of,
so it was left up to Ed. A plain door in the main-level conference
room led to a large metal one five feet in. It required a pass-card
and a code to open. That led to a wide cement staircase going down
at least twenty steps to another big metal door at the bottom.
There was also a video camera at each door. Once past the second
card swipe and key-code, I was in my new place.
It was still bare bones - unpainted cement
walls and a pile of new furniture in the large living room - but I
liked it. There was more space than I expected, and more rooms than
I knew what to do with. I wanted an office and a spare room for
guests. Those were covered, with a few rooms to spare.
I drove back to the thunderdome in a good
mood. On the way home, I thought of the next Gathering and what I
planned to do there. I hoped to arrange a number of meetings with
Tomasino and a few others - maybe the faction emissaries - where
I'd bring a couple of Viggo's hoarded hemos. Although they'd be
bound to me when I woke 'em with my blood, I had no intention of
keeping it that way.
The effects of the unavoidable blood-binding
would wear off in a month or so, and the formerly staked hemos
would be free . . . albeit with a debt. Once revived, they'd be
made aware that they owed me big time, and then were free to go. I
planned to wake one or two at a time, spreading it out to give me
time to refill my tanks. The details obviously weren't worked out
yet, but I felt pretty confident that Tomasino and the emissaries
would go along with it.
The main thing was, I'd be distinguishing
myself from Viggo and trying to compensate for his crimes. If it
mended some fences in the meantime, I couldn't complain. Another
bonus was the fact that big favors would be owed to me. Hemos were
heavily into holding debts over each other's heads, although even a
life-debt didn't mean shit if there weren't witnesses. Viggo's way
was just wrong - he played his own game. I was going to play the
hemo game, and start out with a stacked deck.
Opening the door from the garage, I expected
Thunder to be lying there in the hallway waiting for me like he
normally did. The other strange thing I noticed was the glow on the
stairs from an upstairs light. The only light I left on before
leaving was in the kitchen. Needless to say, I got tense.
9mm in hand, I crept down the hallway. I spun
into the kitchen. Empty. Since the stairs creaked, I just raced up
them. The second story rooms were dark except for the lounge, where
two of the lamps were on. I swung my gun into the room, looking for
anything out of the ordinary.
Thunder was asleep on the far end of the
couch. Like most cats, he was a light sleeper, so seeing him lying
there breathing deeply as his tail twitched from a dream was weird.
I'd also never seen him sleep on the couch before, so something was
definitely off.
Strangest of all, I felt a breeze as I stood
there in the entry to the lounge. Yeah, a breeze - inside my place
where the windows didn't fucking open. I turned, looked up, and saw
a big hole in the ceiling. The half-moon was just visible from my
angle. The hole was roughly circular, but with clean edges. There
wasn't any drywall on the hall floor. I was confused as well as
paranoid.
And then a pair of glowing, lava-orange eyes
came into view at the end of the dark hallway. Shit.
BLOOD
"Surprise, surprise, Mr. Beck," Jack Fletcher
growled from the far end of the hallway. "Since I'll be eating your
soul in a moment, I suppose we can do away with formalities . . .
Leo."