Authors: Melinda Snodgrass
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Davinovitch. Mrs. Davinovitch. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.” And I gave them my Lumina business card.
* * *
“He just was just suddenly
here
,” Joseph said as we left the underground parking lot and headed for the elevators.
We were starting the conversation for the third time since he’d picked me up at the airport. I understood his need for constant repetition; despite everything Joseph had seen and experienced in Virginia, it was clear he’d never really believed that Kenntnis wasn’t human.
“It scared the crap out of Paulette. I was upstairs, and when I got down to the lobby I could see right away that Mr. Kenntnis wasn’t right.” He shot me an anguished look. “He’s smaller and his eyes are weird and he won’t talk to me, but you’ll see.”
The elevator deposited us at the penthouse, and I stepped out into a wash of dissonant sound. It sounded like a maddened piano tuner was torturing the strings of the piano and a monster was clawing the strings of the Celtic harp.
The living room was very full of people, all watching Kenntnis. Cross sat on the arm of the sofa eating chocolate cake. His expression was the most interesting. Grief and calculation was how I read it, and it made me nervous. Sorrow and devastation sagged the contours of Dagmar’s face. Grenier, Weber, and Pamela looked confused. Eddie was completely fascinated.
I reluctantly turned my attention to the founder of Lumina Enterprises. In the past, whenever Kenntnis would enter a room where there was a musical instrument, the instrument would react. Almost like it was singing a greeting, and it was always melodic and beautiful. This cacophony told me more clearly than anything that Kenntnis indeed wasn’t
right.
Kenntnis was pacing up and down in front of the bookcases, trailing his fingers across the spines of the books. The man I’d met last year was a spectacular figure—six foot six, and massive. At first glance he appeared to be African American, but as you studied his features you realized they were an amalgamation of every human racial type. He was Everyman. And not human. Hints from our conversations led me to believe he was hundreds of thousands if not millions of years old.
I stepped in front of him, trying to halt the pacing. The not human became very clear when I looked into his eyes. Before, they had been dark pools that would occasionally flare with silver lights that were reminiscent of the nimbus that surrounded the sword. Now, they were filled with whirling lights both silver and gold. He was physically smaller, and the body seemed more like a hand puppet being imperfectly manipulated. It was a different emptiness than what had faced me in California, but the result was the same. The essence was gone.
Kenntnis frowned and stepped around me. I darted in front again. This time he froze, looking confused. “Sir,” I said gently. He shook his head, and the dissonance from the instruments grew louder.
“Maybe he’ll recover,” Dagmar said.
“I don’t think so,” Eddie said. He turned away from the glares from Joseph and Dagmar and looked at me. “The information on a light particle degrades the longer it’s held in spin glass. I think that’s what happened. He lost part of himself—whatever himself was … is. It’s certainly fascinating proof of the theory. Shame I can’t write a paper. But everybody would think I was nuts.”
“If he’s so degraded, then how did he get back here?” Pamela asked.
“Keep in mind that I’ve never met an alien light creature before,” the physicist said. “This is my guess. I think he was frozen at the exact moment he was preparing to escape. That decision was set, at a quantum level. So when he was suddenly freed, the last conscious action was completed. He ran and ended up here.”
Weber shook his head. “Okay, I didn’t get that at all.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “What’s clear is that he’s not going to be any help to us.”
“So what do we do?” Dagmar asked.
“Well, let’s start by checking out the gate. I’d always assumed that when Kenntnis was freed the gates would close. Let’s see.”
“You got it,” Eddie said, and he lunged for his laptop.
I pressed my hand against my forehead; the noise from the instruments was maddening. “Joseph, could you please take Mr. Kenntnis to the conference room? I can’t take this noise any longer.”
And I realized I’d said the wrong thing. Joseph bridled. “This is Mr. Kenntnis’s home.”
Cross stood up. “Nope, it’s not. He gave it to the kid here. And he’s not Mr. Kenntnis anymore. Face it, he’s a ’tard.”
There it was, stark and cold. Fortunately Eddie provided a distraction before I descended into gibbering panic.
“Got it,” he sang out.
We all gathered around the laptop. From the corner of my eye I saw Joseph gently taking Kenntnis by the arm and leading him toward the elevator.
The satellite feed from the compound showed that the opening to the distant sun was closed. The boiling clouds had been replaced with a normal-looking blue sky. And the gate itself was gone. Where Kenntnis’s tomb had stood, there were just shards of glass glittering on the red sand.
“Well, yay us,” Weber said.
People began to grin. Pamela laid a hand on my shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. But I was watching Cross, and he still looked grim.
“What?” I asked the homeless god.
“Yeah, it’s good news, but who knows how many of us came through? They’re going to have to be hunted down. And they’re all going to be working just as hard as they can to tear open the membranes between the universes,” Cross said. “So, what are you gonna do, paladin?”
Everybody looked at me, and I realized that even though I’d freed Kenntnis, we still had big problems, and I was still in charge. It was a situation I’d never foreseen or planned for. I played for time.
“I need some rest. I really haven’t slept in a couple of days. What say we regroup later.”
There were nods, and people began to scatter. I touched Weber’s shoulder as he was starting for the door.
“I took care of Rhiana,” I said.
“Is that why Kenntnis came back?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill her?” he asked, and his face was very hard.
“Worse.”
Weber nodded, satisfied, and I watched him and Dagmar disappear into the elevator. Grenier headed toward the kitchen, Eddie was lost in his computer. Pamela suddenly put her arm around my waist and gave me a hug.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“You looked like you needed it.”
“Just tired,” I temporized.
She stepped back and looked at me. “You did the right thing. You gave Angela justice.”
“No, I gave her vengeance. Don’t be mistaken about what I did.”
“And now you’re feeling guilty,” Pamela said.
I considered that, then slowly shook my head. “No, not guilty. Puzzled, uneasy. I don’t exactly know who I am anymore.”
“And you have to figure out what to do about Lumina,” she said.
“If I figure out the answer to the first question, the second will follow.” And I walked away.
* * *
I wandered through the building. I even dove into the pool and swam one lap, but anyplace in the Lumina building was too fraught. I got out, dried, dressed, and thought about going back to my apartment, but it had never really been a home. Just a place I slept and ate.
There really wasn’t a question about where I’d go—I went back to headquarters. I refused a driver. I’d always wanted to try out the dark gray Lamborghini Murciélago in the underground lot. This was my chance. I accepted that Estevan would follow me—my life was constrained by security now—but I could at least be alone in a car and inside my own head.
And what a car it was. The thunder from the powerful engine could be felt through my body, and the stick moved smoothly through the gears as I raced down Montgomery toward the freeway. Estevan was good; he stayed with me. I realized that Joseph needed to hire someone to replace Rudi. That made me remember Rudi, and how he died, and my eyes burned.
My fault, my fault, my fault.
No, not my fault. I told them to wait for me at the house. Get Angela and wait for me. But we hadn’t gotten Angela because she was dead.
My fault, my fault, my fault.
There are going to be casualties.
Grenier’s words came back to me as I crested the ramp onto I-25 heading south.
But not my people. I should have kept my people safe. And then I thought about the people I’d cut down at the compound. They were casualties, too, and somewhere people were going to weep for them. As for me, the tears were gone. My eyes burned and ached, but the opportunity for grief was once again past.
Maybe grief was a luxury that you engaged in when you had time?
In that case I was never going to have the opportunity. I had a feeling a shrink wouldn’t approve.
Weber had reported that absenteeism was bad, and he wasn’t kidding. APD headquarters was a ghost town. But Lucile and Dolores, bless them, were at their places in dispatch. Weber wasn’t in his office. I was glad. I really didn’t want to talk to anybody.
Since I was on medical leave, the metal surface of my desk was empty except for a single piece of paper, a notification that I was due at the range to requalify. Perfect.
I didn’t feel like driving to the west mesa and the outdoor range. I settled for the private indoor range that had a deal with APD. Back to the Lamborghini. Estevan gave me a “what the fuck?” look, but I didn’t respond. We drove back uptown.
When I reached the range, I just had to flash my badge at the hard-bitten woman with too-bright, dyed-red hair who sat behind the counter. She had a pistol on each hip, a package of Nicorette gum on the counter in front of her, and an open can of Red Bull. I hoped I hadn’t just seen Sam in thirty years. The woman waved me back to the range.
I hung a target and sent it whirring to the far end of the range, slid in a clip, and settled the earmuffs over my ears. I raised the gun, took aim, and started shooting. I emptied the clip and brought the target back. There was a reasonably close grouping (mostly) in the center of the silhouette’s body mass.
I hung a new target, reloaded my clip, and went again. This time I didn’t just bang away. I paused before each shot.
Kenntnis was functionally gone.
Bang.
Who knew how long the shattered creature would clothe itself in a people-suit?
Bang.
I was still the head of Lumina.
Bang.
I was still the paladin.
Bang.
The gates were closed.
Bang.
There were still Old Ones, or rather
more
Old Ones.
Bang.
They would try to reopen the gates, or at least tear holes in our universe.
Bang.
I had people who knew the truth, supported me, and had been inoculated.
Bang.
How could I use them effectively, in ways that would counter the Old Ones?
Bang.
I slowly lowered the gun onto the divider in front of me.
I was the paladin. I was the head of Lumina. I had people. How could I best use them?
It really was all up to me.
I
t was surprisingly heavy, and while the exterior was smooth, the turns that cradled his fingers were rough enough to help the hand keep its grip.
Make more of these? How the fuck am I going to make more of these? I don’t know what this is. I don’t care if we hired ten thousand scientists. They’re not going to know what it is either. I just wanted to study it. I can’t reproduce it. He’s smoking crack.
But it’d be kinda cool. He said anybody Eddie knew. Guys he’d met at conferences, people he played World of Warcraft with.
Professors. People he’d gone to school with.
Hello. I am authorized to offer you a job with Lumina Enterprises at triple your last salary. We will relocate you and even buy you a house. Why, you ask? Because you are being recruited to study an ancient
,
alien artifact. Your job, should you choose to accept it, is to make more of these artifacts that will be used to protect the world. Who will carry it, you ask? Oh, don’t worry about that. Those people are being located and recruited even as we speak. You just focus on your job.
How cool would that be?
There was a soft throat clearing from behind him.
“Eddie, the sword stays with me.”
* * *
Travel around the world rescuing eggheads, and attacking Old Ones?
He was forty-three years old, for crap’s sake. He’d left the army when he was twenty-five.
Richard did say they were also going to recruit and train. Weber thought he’d rather do that, and not take part in the run-around-the-world part of the plan. Sam wanted to shoot things. Fine, let her go. He’d shot enough things.
But Cross was going to be looking for more paladins. And the other monsters weren’t going to like that. They’d try to kill those people, just like they were going to try to kill Richard. And suddenly Weber remembered a little boy whom he and Richard had rescued out of one of those dimensions. With so many monsters in the world, there were going to be a lot more kids disappearing, and he just wasn’t going to let that happen.
Suddenly he felt better. This was no different than the work he’d been doing. The perps were tougher and the stakes higher, but it was still about preserving and protecting … just on a global scale.
“Did I mention, you’re going to be in charge?”
Looked like he and the FBI Scoobies needed to get in a huddle.
* * *
They were going to be spending more money than the GDP of many small countries. When Dagmar had pointed that out, he’d said, “Make more money.” She almost got mad, except he spun around the notepad and showed her his ideas. If Kenzo hadn’t signed off she would have thought he was crazy. Now they were going to undertake the largest privately funded space project ever.
Then he ended it with the news that Peter and the kids were on their way.
“Don’t get a divorce yet.”
* * *
Track them
, was the order. After all, Grenier was the best person to spot Old One activity because he’d helped organize and abet their incursions for years.