After Moses Prodigal, page 27
“Very well. Would you take my ticket instead and go with the Rogers?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Beats hanging around this dump with you. Now leave me alone. I’m reading.”
He left the room. She lied, of course. It was almost impossible to read the way her heart thumped. She missed Davey. And Matthew and Abigail and Yvonne. She missed the other street kids. She’d even happily rejoin them on the street. But no. Mishka, Raj, Jason, and the others were gone. Somewhere safe by now. Matthew would have seen to that. At least someone on this miserable rock would get a happy ending.
She tried to count the days backward to figure out how long it had been since she’d left the Sparrow and utterly failed. Weeks. That was all she could figure at this point. Angrily she wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at the book. It was still open on the page Arthur had turned to before setting it aside. It was the part about Rat and Mole meeting Pan. She read it again, and though this time she thought that it was a beautiful passage, she still had no idea what it was supposed to mean.
THEY DIDN’T FIND EVAN’S shop until it had already closed for the evening. Matthew stared at the dark windows. Their only lead was dead until tomorrow. Eight long hours in which he and all his crew might disappear along with one of Ceres’ cities. Erased by a snap of the Morgensens’ fingers.
Matthew turned away in frustration and walked back down the sidewalk. Evan’s shop was at the edge of the downtown area, the bottom storefront of a small office building.
“I could smash in the windows. Maybe he’ll show up,” Abigail suggested.
“Along with the police. Come on, we’ll be back first thing in the morning. We have to head back across the water to find a motel. I don’t think anything in this district will be in our price range.”
Abigail jogged to catch up to him, her suit shaking the sidewalk. “As long as my last night alive isn’t spent with roaches.”
They mounted their bikes and set out.
Matthew shook his head in frustration as they waited in traffic to get back across the bridge. Their problems were multiplying and they hadn’t even begun to solve one. A few hours back, they’d received word from Yvonne that she and Davey had found a stowaway on the Sparrow. He didn’t even have to keep reading the message to know that it was the kid with the crush on Grace. Abigail thought the whole thing was funny.
Matthew just wanted a good night’s sleep.
Why was everything so snarled up? Like this traffic, for instance. In the last hour, the downtown streets had gone from quiet to gridlock. He turned to Abigail where she sat beside him on her bike. “Just our luck,” he mouthed.
She shrugged and then pointed at something behind him. He craned his neck to get a look. Some kind of amphitheater. Was that a concert?
It irked him to know that someone was having fun while the Visigoths circled and Rome burned.
THEY WERE AT EVAN’S before he opened. Abigail yawned as they walked up to the front of the store. She peered into the dark windows and mourned the few extra minutes of sleep she could have had.
“So what do we know about this guy?” Matthew asked. He started pacing almost immediately. She wished he wouldn’t do that. It just about drove her nuts when he wouldn’t stand still.
“Only that Ivan doesn’t care for him,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean much. Ivan didn’t seem like what I would call a people person.”
“True. He made me promise never to patronize Evan in any way.”
“Charitable too. Well, we had better hope he has something for us, or we’re going to be empty-handed when Yvonne and Davey show up tonight.” He went back to his pacing.
“Can you not do that?”
“Do what?”
“Pace. I can’t think when you do that.”
He stopped short. “Sorry.”
A few minutes later, the lights flicked on inside and there was a subtle click as the door was unlocked. A man opened the door wide and gestured for them to enter. “I don’t normally have customers waiting at the door when I unlock.” His briefly eyed Abigail’s armor but didn’t say anything.
Abigail frowned. His voice seemed familiar. A lot like Ivan’s. In fact, now that she looked at him, he looked a lot like Ivan, minus the eccentric tailcoat and mutton chops. “You wouldn’t by chance be related to a certain Ivan up in Bright Crater, would you?”
An unreadable expression crossed his face. “I take it that damn brother of mine is up to no good.”
They were related then. What kind of parents named their sons Evan and Ivan?
“He thought that maybe you could help us,” Matthew said.
Evan pursed his lips. “Well, that’s a first. I take it he’s going to get something out of this?”
Abigail thought of their promise to show Ivan a piece of the Anemoi and wondered if that would ever happen. Knowing Matthew, he’d probably try and make good on his end of the deal. “In a roundabout way, yes.”
“Ask me if I’m surprised. Come in then and let’s get this over with. There’s no use talking on the street.”
The front of Evan’s shop was much more orthodox than Ivan’s. For starters, there wasn’t a red-eyed gun turret keeping an eternal vigil on the place, and it was more of a store, and less of a collection of random odds and ends. Here, rows of commercial electronics and appliances fanned outward from the entrance. Much more practical, but it also lacked the eccentric charm of Ivan’s.
“If I ever need a toaster, I know where to come,” Abigail joked.
“Breaking your promise already?” Matthew asked.
Evan walked to the back counter and leaned against it, arms crossed and jaw set. “So what is it? What errand did that fool send you on?”
“We have questions,” Matthew said. “About Osvald Morgensen.”
Abigail saw the spark of fear in Evan’s eye. He shifted his weight against the counter ever so slightly. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“We’re no friends of the Morgensens,” Matthew said softly. “Or White Void for that matter.”
“Yeah? That doesn’t mean that talking to you won’t get me killed. I should have never told Ivan about that job.”
“Please,” Abigail said. “There’s a lot riding on us finding Osvald. And soon.”
“More than my life? Do you know what happens to people who betray the Morgensen family?”
“They have a nuclear bomb,” Matthew stated.
Evan’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. “If this is a lie, it’s a cruel one.”
“I wish it was.”
Evan walked back to the front door, locking it and turning off the open sign. “Let’s talk somewhere more private. The family has eyes and ears everywhere in this city.” They followed him through the back door into a workshop. Abigail couldn’t help shake the idea that Ivan’s shop up in Bright Crater was someone’s weird idea of a joke and that this was the real thing.
It was all so... normal.
Evan opened a cabinet and pulled out a small bottle. “It’s too early for this, but I think we’ll all need it. Scotch anyone?”
Matthew held up a hand and shook his head.
Abigail was tempted to take him up on that offer, but knowing their luck, it was going to be one of those days. She’d need her head clear, and whiskey wasn’t known to be good for that.
Evan shrugged and poured himself a glass. He took a drink from it and sat on a stool. “Talk. What do you need?”
“We have to find Osvald,” Abigail said. “Somehow. Ivan said you did some work for him once.”
“I did. He has a kinematic statue in his foyer. Lots of moving parts. Real work of art when it’s working right. It had a number of bad bearings that needed replacing.”
“And you did that for him? Did you know who you were working for?”
“Listen,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger. “When a Morgensen hires you for a job, you don’t say no. That’s how you end up down in the Trash Heap in a plastic bag.”
“The Trash Heap?” Matthew asked.
“Right. Off worlder. Down in the core, the real gravitational core of Ceres. They mined it out over a century ago and that’s where all of Ceres dumps its garbage. The Trash Heap. Anyway, what was I supposed to do? Say no? It wasn’t like they were even asking me to do anything that sinister. It was a piece of art.”
“So they took you to his residence?”
Evan nodded. “Blindfolded. After driving me around in a car for hours and hours. Then after the job, they drove me around for another half day. There’s no telling where I was. Half of Ceres is in reach from Port Jacobson due to its central location near the core.”
Abigail paced for a minute, before realizing that Matthew was giving her a funny look. She whispered an apology and turned back to Evan. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Any other clues as to where you were?”
“There was a long elevator ride to the residence.”
“A tower. Then it’s in one of the bigger cities. Delving maybe, or even here in Port Jacobson if they were being clever.”
“But it’s just as likely,” Evan said, “that it was an elevator through solid rock into an unmarked cavern. The Morgensens have the wealth and power for that sort of thing.”
“And that’s it?” Matthew asked. “You don’t remember anything else?”
He seemed to consider this. “There were no direction changes in the ride, so they weren’t just punching random buttons to throw me off. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can say. Believe me when I say that I tried to figure it out for my own curiosity’s sake. I even tried working the math on how long the ride was and average elevator speeds. There are at least two dozen buildings on Ceres that are candidates. And that’s just matching public records. If it’s an off the record building or cavern...” He shrugged.
Abigail met Matthew’s eyes. So that was it. That didn’t narrow things an awful lot. “Can you get us a list of the buildings?”
“I can tell you right now,” he said. “Bennet Tower, here in Port Jacobson. Agritech Farms HQ in Delving, the Solaris Building, also in Delving—”
A comm chirped from the front room.
“Probably a customer outside,” Evan said, “Angry that I’m closed during hours I’m posted to be open.” He looked at Abigail. “Stick back here for a minute. I’d rather you not scare off business.” He disappeared in a hurry to answer the comm.
“Awfully trusting to leave us back here alone,” Matthew said, walking over to the workbench littered with tools and electronics.
“He couldn’t stop us from robbing him either way. Check the security camera over here. Looks like someone’s banging on the front door.”
Matthew joined her at the grainy black and white monitor. Evan walked to the front and unlocked it, gesturing widely in apology. There wasn’t a microphone, or else it was muted, but it was pretty obvious this was just a customer. Matthew wandered away again.
It was about that time that the man drew a gun and pointed it at Evan.
“Matthew!”
He spun at the tone of her voice, but she was already moving. She wasn’t going to let their one lead eat a bullet before he had his say. Lowering her shoulder, she broke the door off its hinges and charged into the front. The stranger turned wide-eyed to see her charging his way. She barely got a look at him. Arizona cowboy hat. Satin vest.
Then he was firing.
The bullets deflected harmlessly off her shield. She was just about to deliver him a jolt he’d never forget when a voice from behind her shouted.
“Stop!”
She skidded just shy of sending him flying with her shield and instead sidestepped to protect Evan.
The man tore his terrified eyes off her and looked past her at the person who’d shouted.
“Cole?”
Wait. Did they know each other? Abigail extended one hand. “Give me the gun. Now.”
He complied, shoulders sagging.
Matthew joined her. She noted his hand hanging free, ready to draw his revolver if the need arose. “What are you doing here, Russel?”
Russel? Oh right. Matthew and Davey had worked with him in Delving. Judging from the way he was dressed, Abigail was surprised that he would get his hands dirty.
The man took a step back. “Same thing I was doing the last time we met. Trying to find the Morgensens.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “How does holding a tinker at gunpoint accomplish that?”
“I’m in a hurry,” he said through clenched teeth. “We’re out of time.”
“I’m aware of that,” Matthew said. “But you’re letting your emotions get in the way of common sense. Just like they did with Phillipa. Revenge rots the soul.”
“I don’t need a sermon, preacher,” Russel growled. “There are millions of lives on the line.”
“So you found out about the Prodigal.”
Russel nodded. “And the summit.”
Abigail frowned. “That one is news to us.”
“Tomorrow night. At Marion Park on the riverfront. Leaders from both White Void and the Morgensen family are meeting to discuss the current conflict. Rumor has it, Osvald will be delivering an ultimatum.”
“And if White Void doesn’t give them what they want...” Matthew trailed off.
“Exactly. You’ll have to pardon my haste, but this man,” he said, gesturing to Evan, “has the information I need.”
Matthew shook his head. “He doesn’t know how to find Osvald Morgensen.”
Russel looked at Evan, who only shrugged. Smart of him to keep out of this.
“No. Not when I’m so close. I have the current security codes. I have—” Russel put both hands to his forehead. “He’s here. He’s here in Port Jacobson. And I can’t find him.”
“Wait,” Abigail said. There was a disconnect here. “Back up. You said Osvald is in Port Jacobson? How do you know that?”
Russel looked at her hopefully. “From what I’ve learned, most of the Morgensen family’s older generations live here in downtown Port Jacobson at a single location dubbed Compound. Compound’s location is the family’s closest guarded secret. They say Osvald hasn’t left in a decade. That’s part of what makes this summit such a big deal. I’d go for him then, but security will be too tight for me alone, and it may also be too late to stop the Prodigal.”
“Explains why Osvald’s such a hard man to track down,” Matthew said.
Evan rubbed his hands together and spoke up for the first time. “It also means that the Compound is in Bennet Tower.” The other three people in the room stared at him. “It’s the only building in downtown Port Jacobson that has an elevator long enough to match the one I rode. It’s either there or this idiot with a gun has no idea what he’s talking about.”
Russel’s face reddened at the insult, but a smile slowly crept across Matthew’s. “What was that you said about security codes, Russel?”
He fumbled in his vest for a small pin drive. “A complete list of current access codes for the Morgensen security network. They should be good through tomorrow.”
Abigail’s jaw dropped. “How many people did you have to kill to get those?”
“More than one,” he said. “And it was a rather difficult thing to pull off. I’m not much of a fighter, but I’m a very good planner.”
That was true enough if Matthew’s tale of their time in Delving was any indication.
“We break-in,” Matthew said, “and find Osvald. If that doesn’t work, we break into the computers with these codes and find the Prodigal.”
“And Grace,” Abigail added. “If it was the Morgensens that took her, there’ll be a record.”
“Lovely,” Evan said. “Plan your little assault elsewhere. I’ve got a business to run and I don’t want this pinned on me if it goes south.”
Matthew tipped his hat to Evan. “We’ll make good on this. We’ll find that bomb. Come on, Russel. Let’s go put that planning skill of yours to use.”
They hit the sidewalk and Abigail couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in what felt like ages, they had a mission. A job. Find the Prodigal. Find Grace. Get out alive. Nevermind the details that needed filling in. They were going to make it work.
No matter what.
JASON WAS GLAD WHEN they finally let him out of his cabin. Even if it had barely been over a day. A day in which he was comfortable and well-fed. Now he was ordered to join Davey and Yvonne in the cockpit for landing.
“You can watch,” she said from the pilot’s seat. “But don’t touch. Anything.”
“I won’t,” he mumbled. For how nice Grace claimed they were, these people sure were cranky. It’s not like he was the first stowaway on this ship. He hadn’t even threatened anyone and look at how he was treated.
It’s because Grace wasn’t with him, he realized. That’s probably how she and Davey had gotten away with it. Finding a slinking teenage male was probably not nearly as nice a surprise.
“Altitude three kilometers, velocity twenty meters a second,” Davey read from the monitor.
“Ceasing burn and rotating to target,” Yvonne said. Suddenly the dead gray surface of Ceres filled the viewport.
Home. Or his old home. Maybe someday he’d be able to think of Antioch as home.
Ahead of them, an enormous circle of light blazed on the surface. In the distance, another ship disappeared into the glare.
The comm crackled to life. “SPW5840, you have clearance to enter the Well. Please accelerate to fifty meters a second and maintain velocity.”
“Understood tower,” Yvonne replied. She turned to Davey. “Seems a little fast, don’t you think?”
“I thought you were a good pilot.”
She sat up straighter and cracked her knuckles. “I’m a great pilot. This just feels like flying down the throat of a dragon.”
The Well loomed closer and closer and Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that they were too wide, that their wings would clip and this would end in disaster. He flinched as they reached the entrance.
