Angel City (48 page)

“It's true, all right. But Astruc's got the wrong kid. Mind taking your tea? My arms are getting tired.”

Harper took it by his fingertips, tried not to spill it on his lap.

“Who is it? The child?”

“A boy between a year and a year and a half old.”

“How do you know?”

“I've seen him.”

“Where?”

“In Portland, before the concert. That's why we had the concert there. Had to get Karoliina in position to get a look at the child; see if he matched the child in her dreams. By the way, that's the dream that got you shanghaied to Toulouse.”

Harper reached in his coat, pulled out a smoke, and lit up.

“The child in Portland, does he have a name?”

Krinkle pointed his trigger finger at the kill spot between Harper's eyes:
Bang.

“Right.”

The bus jumped like it had hit a patch of ice. Then the drone of the motor grew louder, vibrating up through the floor. Harper looked ahead. The headlights had been switched off and there was only a world of blinding snow coming in rapid bursts of blue light.

“Fear not, you're on the magic bus,” Krinkle said.

“No such thing as a magic bus, not even for the Zoroaster's magi.”

“But Zoroaster's gang knew a few good tricks.”

“Such as?”

“Inverted time warp.”

“Never heard of it.”

“We're disconnected from the gravitational pull of the Earth at the forty-fourth latitude of the planet. It's spinning under our wheels at 1279.1 kilometers per hour. We'll shimmy north to the forty-sixth latitude, reconnect at an out-of-the-way spot near Lausanne, and cruise on in. By the way . . .” He called to Karoliina. “Sister K, you need to flip the license plates to Switzerland, Canton de Vaud. You know, the one with the little green-and-white flag?”

“Already done,” she said.

Krinkle looked at Harper.

“Anyway, the bus gets us wherever we need to be in the world, in one quarter the time.”

Harper thought about it.

“If the planet is spinning at twelve hundred plus klicks, why's it take so long to get there?”

“Sideways is easy; it's the up-and-down part that's hard.”

Harper thought about it. “Second philosopher's riddle I've heard in one day.”

“Drink your tea,” Krinkle said.

Harper smelled the steam rising from his cup. Mint, ginger, a scent of shut-up-and-enjoy-the-ride.

“More doctor's orders?”

“Nah, just something Karoliina whipped up to take off the edge when we reconnect. Sit back and enjoy the ride. Standing orders are if a warrior like you hitches a ride, he's put under with the green auto-injector before he gets on.”

Harper looked at the door to the back of the bus: D
O
N
OT
D
ISTURB
.

“Like the band?”

Krinkle smiled.

“You're catching on.”

Harper sipped his tea, thinking about an apostle's bones coming to Spain not long after Christ disappeared, shepherds in the fields near the Pyrenees twelve hundred years ago, and Finnish rock bands on a magic bus in nowtimes. Funny old world.

“So if orders are to put me under when I get on, what am I doing sitting up straight? How come I'm not with the band?”

Krinkle pulled a gold-filtered smoke, lit up.

“Word on the street is you've only got a few weeks till lights out.”

It had been a while since the notion crossed Harper's mind.

“That's right, and so what?”

“You and me have been through some shit together. You may not see it, given you're completely fucked, but I do. Some of it still burns in my eyes. So let's just put this down to me forgetting the rules and regs so you can experience one of the cooler imaginations of all time.”

Harper felt something. Gratitude maybe.

“And what might that be?”

Krinkle slipped his headphones onto his head.

“Sometimes, brother, like the angels of men, we fly.”

“Sorry?”

Krinkle spun around in his swivel chair, raised a fader on his control panel, leaned into the microphone.

“That was a band of shoegazers from Denmark called Mew with their mighty tune, ‘Comforting Sounds.' Wherever you are in time and space, you're tuned to the last radio station on planet Earth. Just now, we're opening a chapter from
Numinosum
, the LP of revelations. Brothers and sisters, come, fly with me and bear witness to the Ascension of the Watchers.”

Krinkle flipped a switch, cranked up the sound. A man's voice echoed through the bus.

“I didn't know how empty was my soul, until it was filled.”

Then a slow backbeat and a thumping bass resonated through the floor, guitars floating and a harmonic drone breathing, rising . . .
ommmm . . .
then a voice singing, as if chanting to the architect of the unremembered beginning:

“Je vois les yeux de Dieu,

Je vois les yeux de Dieu,

Dans la neige qui tombe,

Dans la neige qui tombe.”

Harper looked out the windshield.

Passing through the storm, lost in the clouds.

Flash Traffic

tdc: +k556-34fcc+

Ex: Station Hong Kong

Read Status: Operations Desk/SUTF

Subject: Frequency Fluctuations M-Band Time Warp

Ten-second drop in power status in time warp over protected zone “Blue Zone 3.”

No intrusion detected.

Residents: status normal.

Utility Scan detects no software or operational glitch. Possible external hack. Threat level: Unknown

Request Guidance.

Flash Traffic

tdc: +q709-24nrp+

Ex: Operations Desk/SUTF

Eyes Only: Station Hong Kong

Subject: M-Band Time Warp

SX Analysis detects no external hack threat.

Conclude program code error.

Reset codes with attachment. Upload, reboot in coord w/SX Berne: 02:30 (HKT), 20:30 (GMT)

Flash Traffic

tdc: +h917-29bco+

Ex: Operations Desk (sub)/SUTF

Eyes Only: Dragon 6/SUTF

Subject: Berlin Station reports enemy comms intercept and decode.

Decoded intercept trace: Rome-Riga

Intercept reads: “Execute Operation Riptide”

Intercept ends.

No further data.

SX Unit analysis: inconclusive.

I

K
ATHERINE HEARD A KNOCK AT HER BEDROOM DOOR.

“Come in.”

Officer Jannsen entered the room, closed the door behind her. All the lights in Katherine's room were off, and gray light seeped through rain-drenched windows. Coming to the hallway Officer Jannsen saw a glow of soft, wiggly light coming through the open door to Max's room. She reached the door to Max's room, looked in.

“Was ist das?”

A green rainproof tarp had been hung tentlike from the ceiling. Strung with ten-millimeter climbing rope, slings, and carabineers. The ropes were anchored to heavy dumbbells set about the room. Red plaid blankets had been tossed over the floor under the tent, and on the blankets, huddled around the glowing lantern, were Katherine, Max, and Monsieur Booty. Katherine in the middle wearing Marc Rochat's black floppy hat, a book on her lap, a cup of tea at her crossed legs. Monsieur Booty was sitting to her left, paying rapt attention to the sketchbook. And Max was to her right, propped up in his car seat with his toy hammer in his hand, pacifier in his mouth, and his bicycle helmet on his head. Officer Jannsen dropped her jaw and leaned against the doorjamb. Max had never seen such an expression on her face and thought it very funny. He giggled, pointed at her.

“Nnnn.”

“Heiliges Kanonenrohr,”
Officer Jannsen said.

“What's that mean?” Katherine said.

“Holy gun barrel.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Germans—can't just use ‘holy cow' like the rest of the world.”

“I'm Swiss.”

“Yeah, but that was German. The boys told on me, huh?”

“They told me you asked them to come up, then they went and got some climbing gear and weights and Max's car seat. They said they came back and helped you make something. I asked them what it was, they said I must see for myself.”

“What do you think?”

“What is it?”

“It's a tribal council of truth.”

Officer Jannsen stepped closer, looked at the book on Katherine's lap.

“Is that one of his sketchbooks?”

“You can say his name, Anne.”

“Is that one of Marc Rochat's books?”

“It's called
piratz
. I've read it to Max six times so far today. We're working on number seven.”

“He likes it.”

“A flying giant caterpillar named Pompidou, an evil wizard named Screechy in search of a future-teller diamond, a beautiful princess trapped in an ice castle, and a band of silly pirates wearing paper hats to the rescue. What's not to like? You want in?”

“Yes, I would.”

Officer Jannsen crouched down under the tent and sat across from them, forming a circle.

“Why is Max wearing a bicycle helmet, Kat?”

“It's the one he wanted.”

“What?”

“I was conducting another experiment.”

“What was it this time?”

“Letting him pick things, seeing if he's the reincarnation of Marc Rochat. See, that's how the Buddhists do it. The Dalai Lama dies, monks take a few of his things. Eyeglasses, or a book, maybe a hat. They put them in a bag with toys and other stuff, and they wander the land visiting newly born boys, showing the boys their bag of stuff. The boy who picks up the things of the Dalai Lama is the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama. Easy.”

“You've been on the Internet.”

“Hey, I'm from Los Angeles. Can't swing a dead cat there without hitting a Buddhist.”

Mew.

“Sorry, Monsieur Booty, wasn't talking about you. Anyways, in LA everyone tries it out once in their life.”

“You were a Buddhist?”

“Yeah, my sophomore year in high school.”

Officer Jannsen looked at Max, reached over and pulled at his pacifier. Max's baby teeth held on.

“Max isn't the reincarnation of Marc Rochat, Kat.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“He picked the bicycle helmet instead of Marc's hat. Leaves me wondering who he is.”

“Max is your son.”

“Yeah, but who's his daddy? For a while I was trying to remember if maybe it was Marc.”

“What?”

“Looking at Max's eyes yesterday, I saw Marc's eyes. Got me thinking.”

“About what?”

“I didn't get knocked up by the head bad guy in Lausanne. Because his fucking eyes were silver, and the goons with him, their eyes were black. So maybe it was Marc. Don't look at me like that, Anne. You know why I'd think that.”

“Do I?”

“Marc Rochat's eyes, Max's eyes, and my eyes are emerald green. Thing is, my eyes were never this green. Greenish, yeah, especially if I wore my fave green cashmere sweater. But not like this. So following that line of thought, I remembered being in the loge of the belfry for days. I remember being out of my mind; maybe a little less than I am now, but I was out there. But I clearly remember, like I can see it, that I thought about fucking Marc so I wouldn't feel bad stealing the money he had stashed in the cathedral. A hundred thousand Swiss francs in a tin with a picture of a little train and Zermatt on the lid. Gets a little foggy, but I know I decided not to steal the money.”

“Why not?”

“Because there was a knock on the door, and when I opened it, I saw the man who wasn't there. Before, he was a shadow standing in the corner of a memory. Now I can see him. He's tall, not bad looking, and he's wearing a beat-up overcoat. Guess what else? His eyes are the same color as Marc Rochat's and Max's and mine. Interesting having a conversation with a crazy lady, isn't it?”

“You're not crazy.”

Katherine picked up her tea and sipped.

“Better living through chemistry. Who is he?”

Officer Jannsen looked out the open doorway to Katherine's bedroom. The CCTV camera was pointing toward them, but as Katherine and Max were in the room, the camera would be off. Officer Jannsen pulled her mobile from her belt, slid it, facedown, under the blanket. She looked at Katherine.

“He's what we call a deep asset.”

“What's that mean?”

“Someone who isn't what he appears to be.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don't know.”

“Who is he?”

“You have to remember his name yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because that's the way it works.”

“Fuck's sake, tell me.”

“I don't know his name.”

“C'mon, you were in the cathedral. You saw him.”

“There's a special unit that deals with deep assets. I was in it, but I was assigned to you on close protection after the cathedral. When I was transferred, all names and faces of deep assets were wiped from my memory.”

“They can do that to you, too, the mindfuck stuff?”

“You're asking me?”

Katherine stared at Officer Jannsen, thinking how she herself couldn't remember a thing of her life for six months. Didn't even know she was pregnant. Could never quite see the man who wasn't there.

“Yeah, dumb question. Can I talk to him, can you get a message to him?”

“What about?”

“Seeing as I met him in Lausanne a few times, I'd like to know if it was between the sheets once. Or twice.”

“It couldn't be him.”

“Why not?”

“Deep assets are forbidden to touch locals.”

“Locals?”

“It's a code for anyone who's not a deep asset.”

Katherine took another sip from her cup, laughed a little.

“What's so funny?” Officer Jannsen said.

“I'm just wondering why it is I'm the one drinking the tea, because you're the one who sounds nuts.”

“I suppose I do.”

Katherine looked at Max. His green eyes sparkled with lantern light, and they were going back and forth between the two women, wondering who was going to speak next.

“Well, buster, that leaves only two options on the daddy question. Virgin birth, or aliens with an impregnatronic ray gun. With Mommy's beforetimes, Mommy's going for aliens. How about you?”

Max swung his hammer.

“Apposoose.”

She turned to Monsieur Booty.

“You?”

Mew.

Katherine looked at Officer Jannsen.

“Alien with a ray gun it is, this side of the tribal council. How do you plead?”

Officer Jannsen pulled her mobile from under the blanket, snapped it to her belt. She stood up.

“I say you, Max, and I should go have some huckleberry pie at Molly's.”

Kat sat up like a shot. “Really?”

“I'll have a detail take us in. You can play music and sing badly.”

“Are we done with the lockdown drill?”

“No.”

“What about being held prisoner in the ice castle? House, I mean.”

“Grover's Mill is in the lockdown zone, too.”

Katherine eyes widened. “No way. The whole town?”

“And everyone in it.”

“They're all working with you?”

“They're all here to protect you and Max.”

Katherine looked at Max, Max looked at her, they both looked at Monsieur Booty. Katherine shook her head, Max waved his hammer, the cat sneezed.

“What about the tourist buses? Tuesdays and Fridays, on the way to Rainbow Falls?”

“Supplies and tour rotation of personnel.”

Katherine let it sink in. “Wow.”

Officer Jannsen nodded toward the door.

“Let's go. Seb and Luc are in the Explorer outside, they'll drive us into town.”

Katherine crawled from the tent, reached back, pulled out Max's car seat with him still in it.

“We need a diaper change first, don't we, buster?”

Katherine unhooked Max from his car seat, carried him to the changing table, and gave his bottom a reboot. She sat him up, dressed him in his Converse All Stars, a woolly coat, and a wool cap. She set him back in his car seat and reunited him with his hammer. She handed the completed package to Officer Jannsen.

“Here, hold this.”

“Nnnn,” Max said.

Katherine reached back into the tent and grabbed the lantern and sketchbook.

“What are you doing, Kat?”

“Max won't go anywhere without the lantern or the sketchbook. And he makes me wear Marc's hat all the time. I'm hoping it's a phase.”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“All right, I'm sure the team in Grover's Mill will enjoy it.”

Katherine looked at her.

“You're telling me stuff you're not supposed to tell me, aren't you?”

“You deserve to know the truth, Kat. Let's go, there's something else I want to talk to you about. Away from the house.”

They marched downstairs, stopping for Officer Jannsen to put on her coat and Katherine to throw on her cloak. They went to the driveway, climbed into the back of the Ford Explorer. Corporal Sebastianus Fassnacht turned over the motor, and Luc punched a few buttons on the heads-up display. He turned back, smiled at Max.

“Greetings, Captain Picard. We are ready for takeoff, sir.”

Max waved his hammer.

“Woof!”

They drove through the forest to Bear Creek Road and crossed Carson Highway to Rainbow Falls Road and into another forest.

“Is there even a Rainbow Falls?” Katherine said.

“No.”

“What about the roads?”

“Carson Highway is real. We take that one to Portland.”

“What about the ones to the house and Grover's Mill?”

“Those roads are there, but people passing by don't see them.”

“Like the boys in camouflage back at the house.”

“Something like that.”

“How about the doctors in Portland? Max's, mine, the shrink. Are they like everyone else in Grover's Mill? Are they even really doctors?”

“They're real doctors, they're just our doctors.”

“Their test with Max. It wasn't an MRI, was it?”

“No. But I promise you, it didn't hurt him, or you.”

“Me?”

“You remember, you were with him.”

“Yeah, I remember. So what did it do?”

“It read your light levels. You and Max.”

“Light levels.”

“Yes.”

Katherine fixed a spit curl on Max's head.

“This has something to do with my dream in Lausanne Cathedral. The bum on the altar, the light coming through the rose window, doesn't it? It really happened, didn't it?”

“Yes. And the test in Portland showed . . .”

“Stop.”

Anne looked into Katherine's eyes. She saw flashes of green.

“What is it, Kat?”

Katherine looked at Max again. As usual, he was paying keen attention to the conversation.

“Whatever Max is to you, whatever he is to those bastards that attacked me in Lausanne, whatever he is to everyone in this Disneyland of a town, Max is my son, I'm his mother. I could give a flying fuck about the rest. I don't need to know.” She looked down at Max. “Pardon my French.”