Mae-Ying Allen ~ 3-18-2029 3:17 AM GMT
Mae-Ying wakes up lying prone on something far too soft to be Walsh’s hardwood floor. She blinks and rubs her eyes. An elaborate chandelier slowly comes into focus, suspended from the vaulted ceiling above her.
She groans, rolls to her side, and sits up. She’s on a leather couch the color of toffee, the kind with upholstery studs on the scrolled armrests. Not Walsh’s house; not Walsh’s couch. Not the couch of anyone she knows. Her right hand goes to her left wrist, then to her face, then into her jacket pocket. Her watch is missing and so are her glasses.
She hears footsteps. An unfamiliar young woman with tan skin and a bare face comes and sits down across from her, spine erect, on the edge of a reclining divan. Her wavy, light brown hair falls to her shoulders; her light blue eyes are open wide. She’s a good deal taller than Mae-Ying--hard not to be--and her shoulders are broader, but her shapeless wool sweater and long tartan skirt seem to belong on someone twice her size.
“Who are you?” Mae-Ying demands. “Where am I?”
“You are somewhere safe,” the girl says in an accent Mae-Ying can’t place.
Her answer just makes Mae-Ying more nervous. She stands up. “Where?”
“Miss Allen, calm down. My name is Niva--”
“You kidnapped me, didn’t you!”
“I saved your life,” Niva says.
“This is all because of that thing with the biotech company, isn’t it? Synesis? You work for them, don’t you!”
Niva seems to suppress a sigh and folds her hands in her lap. She’s wearing a signet ring just like the reporter wore, the one with the rose cross on it.
“No, I do not,” she says.
In a flash of insight, Mae-Ying remembers the moment she was attacked at Walsh’s place, right after she called 911. There was something metal pressed against her lips, something on her attacker’s hand. A thick ring? Like the one Niva is wearing?
She points at Niva. “You attacked me!”
“If I had attacked you, you would be dead.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please listen. I will explain.”
Mae-Ying grits her teeth. “Okay, fine.”
“First, I must apologize,” Niva says. “We had wanted to lure out your Senator’s friends--that is, Synesis--by using you as a lure they could not ignore. Fortunately, we determined what you are in time to--”
“Excuse me?” Mae-Ying interjects. “Using me as what!”
Niva’s full pink lips contort into a grimace. "This is--I am not good with these things. The plan was not mine! I was only there because of my orders."
“That really doesn’t make me feel any better!”
"I think they decided that your Senator Walsh had become too much of a liability,” Niva says, ignoring her. “We did not expect that. I do not think we did.”
“Who’s ‘they’? Who decided?”
"The people for whom he was doing favors,” Niva says. “Or being bribed by. I do not know the words for it."
Mae-Ying presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. “You’re talking about him like he’s dead. He’s dead, isn’t he.”
“Yes.”
Mae-Ying contemplates that fact for a moment before demanding, “Who did that? You?”
“No!”
“Then who killed him?”
“I don’t know!”
“Was it the bald guy with the tattoo of a snake on his head? Mr. Garibaldi?”
Niva furrows her eyebrows. “I have not heard that name.”
Mae-Ying laughs. “Of course you haven’t.”
“What did he look like?” Niva asks.
“Well, for starters, he was bald, and he had a tattoo of a fucking snake on his fucking head!”
Niva glares at Mae-Ying, her eyes narrowing marginally under the bold lines of her eyebrows.
“I don’t know why I’m bothering with this,” Mae-Ying says. “Give me back my stuff. I need to make a call. I need to tell--”
Niva shakes her head. “You cannot make any calls.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t a kidnapping!”
Niva reaches into her bag and pulls out Mae-Ying’s glasses and wristwatch. “It is not.” She stands up, thrusting the items at Mae-Ying.
“Then why aren’t I allowed--”
“It is not about allowed!” Niva snaps. “The God-Machine and all the devices of Banality are weakened and disabled in this place! Attempt to commune with that machine you carry and you will see!”
Mae-Ying puts on her glasses. They don’t respond as she opens them. She checks the power switch, turns it off and back on again. Still nothing.
“You disabled them,” she insists.
“No! Why will you not listen?”
“Why won’t I…? My boyfriend was just murdered and no one can give me a straight answer to any of my questions!" Mae-Ying gesticulates violently, nearly dropping her watch.
"Miss Allen, you had no intention of marrying Senator Walsh. If he had proposed to you, you would have probably ended the relationship. You feared he was only using you to get the votes of women, and now you know he was a traitor to your people. And you feel sorrow over this man’s death?”
Mae-Ying’s upper lip curls. “Go fuck yourself.”
"Fine.” Niva rises and starts walking towards a door on the far wall. “You can sit here while I find someone else to speak to you.”
“Go right ahead,” Mae-Ying says.
Niva pauses at the door. She turns around, still with a look of disgust on her face. “If I take you to someone who will help you make a phone call, will you then be cooperative?”
“Fine,” Mae-Ying says. “Sure.”
“Then come with me.”
Mae-Ying follows Niva out into a hallway lit with gas lamps. The walls are paneled with hardwood, and the runner beneath her feet looks like it came from the Ottoman Empire. After a short walk the hall opens up into a rotunda with a curved desk at its center. An aging woman with olive skin and upswept grey hair sits behind the desk, seemingly looking at nothing. As Niva approaches the desk, the woman’s gaze snaps to her, and she smiles; the two of them begin conversing in a foreign language, maybe Hebrew. After a lengthy discussion, the librarian opens a well drawer in her desk, pulls out a form and starts filling it out.
Mae-Ying’s attention drifts over to an oil painting hanging on the wall, enormous and somewhat garish. It appears to be a depiction of Genesis 1, the Garden of Eden, except Adam and Eve don't appear to have any skin; they're just naked anatomies of glowing energy. They stand on either side of an apple tree, around which are entwined two snakes in roughly the form of a caduceus. In the distant background, a single pillar of fire rises into the sky; vague black forms flit around it.
I’ve been kidnapped by a cult, she thinks to herself. A really wealthy cult.
The librarian slams a rubber stamp onto the form, causing Mae-Ying to jump. She lifts the page onto the desk and smiles warmly at Mae-Ying. Niva takes the form and hands it over to Mae-Ying. "Take this and do not let it leave your person for any reason until I say otherwise," she says.
“Thank you,” Mae-Ying says to the librarian.
“You're quite welcome, my dear,” the librarian says. “It's so good to see you again.”
Mae-Ying frowns. Her lips part as she tries to form a question, but already Niva’s heading through a pair of double doors behind the desk. The doors open as Niva approaches, and Mae-Ying rushes to keep up with her.
The passage beyond is so long it’s difficult to see where it terminates. The floor is white marble, polished so smoothly that Mae-Ying can see her reflection in its surface. The walls are panelled in what is almost certainly ivory, with alternating pillars of basalt and more white marble. Intricate sculptures are carved into arching, recessed alcoves every twenty feet or so.
The doors slam shut behind Mae-Ying. Startled, she looks back. There are two large statues of strange beings on either side of the door. Their faces each bear nine eyes, and numerous interweaving wings shroud their bodies. Human hands protrude from these feathery cloaks, gripping swords made of steel.
This time Mae-Ying voices her suspicion out loud. “I’ve been kidnapped by a cult.”
"They are called Watchers,” Niva says.
“You mean those statues?” Mae-Ying asks. She turns away from them and follows Niva. “Whatever.”
She has to make the call; if she can’t get word to the rest of her staff, to Lydia--
“I am bringing you to a phone,” Niva says. “But I do not know if there is still time for your friend.”
Mae-Ying’s mouth goes dry.
“Lydia,” Niva continues.
“How did you know I was thinking about her!”
“If I try to explain you will simply believe that I am a crazy person,” Niva says.
“Could you just answer the question? Do you ever just answer questions?”
Niva sighs. "Because I am a Prosecutor, because I am good with my abilities, and it is given to me to see into the hearts and minds of others."
“You’re a what?”
Niva points to a nearby sculpture depicting a bearded man holding up a large, fat scroll to a crowd of people. Several other bearded men stand behind him.
"I am… the word used in modern times is ‘Lawyer’, but that has the wrong connotation,” she says. “I am blessed and bound to the Law which governs all things. I enforce it, and destroy all threats to its operation and word.”
“Okay…”
“You are also a Lawyer," she tells Mae-Ying.
“What?”
"Come,” Niva says. “It will be easier once you have seen."
Comments (1)
See all