Gameboard of the Gods

Page 88

Here it is, Justin thought, though he didn’t even blink under Cornelia’s scrutiny. “It’s very detailed.”
“Indeed it is,” she said in agreement. “Far more detailed than I would like. It’s even worse than your last one. Do you realize what you’ve signed off on? The idea that an ancient Celtic deity is responsible for repairing Cain in patricians through sacrificial magic?”
In his peripheral vision, Justin saw Mae taken aback. She hadn’t believed he’d go through with it. After what had happened in his last report, she’d thought he’d lie about the events in the temple. Maybe he should have, but there was no going back on his gamble now.
“I didn’t say that definitely happened. Just that it couldn’t be ruled out. Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was some geneticist in her service. They were certainly a high-tech group to get those numbers.”
“You weren’t so vague about these alleged supernatural attackers. The people who turn into shadows and have superhuman powers?”
“They weren’t alleged,” he said. “I saw them. Prætorian Koskinen and Leo Chan did too.”
Cornelia pretended not to hear. “It’s all absurd.”
“It’s the truth!” exclaimed Francis. And for the first time, he didn’t come across as a bedazzled fan. “Cornelia, it’s happening everywhere, and you know it. We can’t pretend it’s not. We need to find it and control it before it controls us.”
And like that, Justin knew his gamble had paid off. Cornelia had always had neutral responses when he’d brought his secret, off-the-record observations to her about mysterious phenomena. She hadn’t accused him of insanity, but she’d certainly never once hinted that there might be something unusual going on in the world. Now her eyes told a different story. We’re not the only ones who know what’s happening, Geraki had said. Your human masters know. So do powerful people you don’t even suspect.
Francis pointed at the reader and then fixed Justin with a penetrating look. “This isn’t the first time we’ve seen phenomena like this. And you’ve seen it too. Other servitors are finding similar, inexplicable things, but most won’t admit to it. They blur the details in the reports because they fear for their jobs. You’re one of the few brave enough to tell the truth.”
Or stupid enough, thought Justin. “What would you like me to do?”
“To keep doing what you do,” said Francis. “We have a list of cases that require more than routine interviews and paperwork. Not just here, but in the provinces.”
“Why would we care about that?” But it was the same thing Lucian had told Mae when he’d looked into servitor hiring.
“Because we need to know everything we can.” Francis leaned across the table. “It doesn’t matter where it is. The world is changing. There are powers hiding right in front of our eyes, and you’ll be our lead in uncovering it all.”
“Even though you have no idea what ‘it’ is,” sneered Cornelia. “All we’re going to find is a bunch of zealots fabricating ‘miracles’ we simply haven’t been smart enough to crack.”
“If that’s true, then we’ll get our proof, and that will be that,” said Francis. But his voice showed he didn’t believe that, and Cornelia picked up on it.
“You’re insinuating ideas that go against every principle our country was founded on,” she said. “If people start thinking there’s a mystical force out there, we’ll fall into chaos and have another Decline.”
“Our country is founded on the truth,” said Francis staunchly.
Cornelia faced him down and seemed to have momentarily forgotten Justin and Mae. “And what if that truth is dangerous?”
“Then learning about it will allow us to cover it up,” said Francis, as though it were that simple. “We’re very good at that, and I’m sure Dr. March will have no trouble keeping what he finds a secret. And regardless, we will take custody of those who truly seem to have some access to these powers. Pity we lost Emil Fitzpatrick.”
“We’re bounty hunters now?” asked Justin. That wasn’t something he’d foreseen.
Francis’s voice was stern. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re a servant of the truth, one who will do what it takes to uncover that truth. We need to know what’s happening, and you, Dr. March, will find out. You will have increased access and influence, as well as whatever other powers you need. You don’t have a new title, but, well…” He stood up and shook Justin’s hand. “Congratulations. I’d say you’ve received a promotion. The likes of which none of us have ever seen. I hope you’re ready for what’s to come.”
“Me too,” murmured Justin.
There it was, his jackpot. Since returning from Panama, he’d lived in fear of what would happen to him. He’d been pretty sure no one would have any use for him if he didn’t solve the murders, but even his future if he was successful had been unclear. After all, he was a servitor who believed in gods and the supernatural. That didn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. But the more he’d thought about it, especially after the temple, the more he’d realized his past meant something to them. Francis had been especially obsessed with it, and as Justin began to see more and more signs of forces stirring in the world, he’d come to believe a few different things.
One was that SCI wasn’t going to get rid of him, not once he solved that case. It didn’t matter how tainted his past was. Enough people knew of his involvement, and they couldn’t make someone so high-profile disappear again. Justin had realized that if he turned in a proper report, with no mention of supernatural powers, no one would question it. He would have his old job back and return to comfortable run-of-the-mill licenses and inspections.
But even before Geraki’s news, it had occurred to Justin that SCI had a problem that wasn’t going to go away. They were going to have to deal with it, and who better than someone who was open-minded about what was truly happening in the world and who had an excellent track record? They needed someone like him, but they probably would’ve left him alone if he’d turned a blind eye to the supernatural in his report. In committing to what he’d seen, he had opened himself up for new opportunities—opportunities out of the public eye that would come along with the power and influence he’d indeed been offered.
Did he want to get involved with more of this stuff? That was the big question. He wouldn’t have minded an ordinary life, but in taking on this one, he could create extraordinary lives for his family. A man who wielded the power Internal Security had given him could get a provincial girl into a private school that could appreciate her talents. He could do what someone had done for him. He could do equally monumental things for Cynthia and Quentin, when the time came. The only problem was that Justin didn’t know what this would mean for him.
They sent Mae away after that in order to go over the logistics and bureaucracy of the new position. Although she’d be tied to it, she was still technically on loan from the military and not directly involved with Internal Security’s inner workings. Justin was acutely aware of her absence, particularly since she was now in the very small circle of people who could really understand what he was going through.
He sent her a message afterward, asking to talk, and she sent one back saying she was busy with some friendly canne sparring, but that he was welcome to join her afterward. She sent him directions to the facility she was playing at, a large operation that offered training and competition for various martial arts. The front desk directed him to the small practice court she was on. He’d never been in any place like it and felt conspicuous in his suit among the handful of other spectators.
But it was worth it to see this bizarre sport. It was very much like what Val and Dag had described: stick fencing, with a few acrobatic moves thrown in. Mae and her opponent wore regulation clothing, rather than the party wear she and Porfirio had apparently fought in. Even in the lightly padded clothing and face mask, she was easy to spot, not just from the shape of her body but also the way she moved, with grace and speed born from natural and implant-induced abilities. It was mesmerizing, and most important, there was no divine glamour trailing her.
She won each of her matches, and when she and her opponent unmasked, Justin saw she’d fought against a chagrined-looking man. They shook hands, and as Mae turned to leave and allow the next combatants to take the ring, she spotted Justin and joined him on his bench. Her hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and the T-shirt she revealed underneath her jacket was damp with sweat. Still, she looked happy and bright.
“The only people I can get to play these days are men who think they can take out a woman, even one who’s a prætorian.” She grinned. “They never do.”
“You want to celebrate your victory with a drink?” he asked.
Her eyes weighed him a few moments, the smile fading into her neutral expression. “There’s a divey little place around the corner that serves food too—if you can bring yourself to step inside.”
“Hey, I’ve been in my share of dives.”
Although, when they entered, he saw his clothing was even more out of place than it had been in the arena. This was very much a blue-collar establishment, and casually dressed people drank cheap liquor and played darts and pool. They found a corner table, and Mae ordered half the menu, needing to refuel after the frantic way the implant drove her body.
“What’s up?” she asked. “New developments after I left?”
“New developments before then.”
He told her about his bizarre meeting with Geraki, tying some of it to the SCI debriefing. Naturally, Justin was careful to edit out the parts pertaining to her, like how the two of them were supposed to run off together in some divine union and his own particular wheelings and dealings with Geraki’s god. Here, in a bar full of laughter and clinking glasses, mystical forces seemed far away.