robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain (27 page)

"Ms. Martinez, can I trust you?"

"To do what, Mr. Hagen?"

"For the moment, simply to listen with an open mind. And to keep what passes between us strictly confidential."

As long as confidentiality was in his interests. She had her own interests to protect. "Do you intend to threaten the health of the Keiretsu?"

"You and I both know that a threat already exists."

"Meaning?"

"First, do I have your word?"

"I would be happy to work with you in any matter to the benefit of the Keiretsu."

"A cautious answer, Ms. Martinez. I approve of it. You may be assured that I am not trying to trap you into betraying the Keiretsu. We both know that someone else is already betraying the Keiretsu."

"And who would that be?"

"Only who? I would think you would be as interested in
how
this fool is endangering everything you hold dear."

She was beginning to lose patience with Hagen's evasive attitude. "Just what is it you fear, Mr. Hagen?"

"First, your word of confidentiality."

"Very well."
Within limits.
"As long as my silence will not endanger the Keiretsu, I will keep whatever secrets you want to share."

"Your word?"

"My word."

"I will hold you to that bond."

Will you
? Only if he was making a recording, which, given his attitude, she was beginning to doubt. "Now that we've set-lied that, what is this danger you fear?"

"The greater danger, I believe you know. As to the more immediate one, you have seen it. You were there when he uncovered it in the preservation chamber."

"Quetzal."

"Not just Quetzal but the corruption surrounding him."

There was nothing surrounding Quetzal but Nakaguchi and his circle, of which Hagen was supposed to be a part. "Are you suggesting that your superior is a danger to the Keiretsu?"

"Nakaguchi is a danger," he said, nodding slowly. "Before you decide that I am an ungrateful traitor, let us speak of a related matter."

An ungrateful traitor to Nakaguchi might be just the tool she needed; there might be something here for her after all. "What matter is that?"

Hagen gave her a quick smile, something halfway between friendly and conspiratorial. "For some years, you had a person by the name of Sorli in your employ. He worked his way onto your staff, advising you in many matters, including the original setup of your clandestine Charybdis Project. Ultimately, he became your principal agent in matters concerning Charybdis. Did you trust him?"

The question was unexpected. Trust Sorli? What did Hagen know that she didn't? What kind of time bomb had Sorli left behind? She elected what she hoped would be a noncommittal answer that would keep Hagen talking. "He was very secretive."

"Yes, he was, wasn't he?" Hagen replied, sounding a little far away, as if he were remembering personal dealings with the departed Sorli. After a moment, he added, "Necessarily so, I'm afraid. Or so we believed at the time."

Necessarily? We?
Sorli
had
been secretive, and Hagen was apparently one of his secrets. Pamela needed to know more. The little man apparently wanted to talk. Who was she to stop him? "And now times have changed?"

"Indeed they have. If we are to work together to avert the threat that hovers over us, you will have to trust me as you trusted him."

"He always asked me to take a lot on faith, while offering little in the way of hard data. I was never very happy about that arrangement. Now, as you say, times have changed. I am not inclined to be so readily trusting, and you have yet to give me any reason to rely on you."

"A fair point. However, I am not at liberty to give you the
sort
of proof you prefer. I can offer no hard evidence that we me trustworthy."

There was that "we" again, and this time without any apparent connection to Sorli. "That is the second time you have said 'we.' Perhaps you'd like to explain yourself."

"So you may trust me?"

"It would be a start."

"To explain my use of 'we' would make you privy to a secret known to few of your race."

Her race? What did race have to do with it? What was the little man talking about? Pamela's train of thought jumped tracks. Little man? Sorli had been a "little man," too. She remembered his insistence that small people were necessary for l he intrusion into the otherworld. Of a sudden, there were too many little men in this business. "Are you suggesting that it is no coincidence that you and Sorli are both ... similar?"

Hagen nodded gravely. "We are of the same stock."

"Not... human stock?" Pamela managed to ask.

"A different race."

Pamela could feel the sweat trickling icily down her sides. "Are you some sort of otherworld being?"

"Not at all." Hagen's somber mien vanished, replaced by a sirange amusement. Disconcertingly, he chuckled. "Not in the least. The farthest thing from it.

"Sorli and I are both part of an organization, a cabal, if you will, dedicated to working against the machinations of such beings. We oppose the irrationality of magic. Always have. It is our goal to put an end to things like Quetzal, for we know them of old. More than once we have been the victims of their deviltry. We dwarves have not always been able to be as effective as we would like, but we have very long memories and are very patient."

Dwarves'
? She looked at Hagen, at his broad shoulders, his full beard, his beaky nose. Put him in a Robin Hood costume and he would look like something out of a fairy story. But dwarves were mythical.

"You don't believe me," Hagen said.

"You're surprised? You just told me you are a fairy-tale creature."

"You believed in goblins when Sorli brought you the boggle's head from the Museum."

How had he found out about that? "You hacked into my files."

"No, not me. Sorli did that. He also reported on his association with you. I know everything he did while in your employ. The two of you made a good team. Considering."

Considering what? That Sorli had lied to her, manipulated her? And this creature wanted her to trust him as she had trusted Sorli. She hadn't trusted Sorli, not as far as she could see him. She had worked with the little man, the—God, could it be true?—dwarf, even come to believe in the otherworld and the elves Sorli wanted to fight, but she had never trusted him. She had only feared what he had feared.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend,
the old saw claimed, but "my ally" would be more appropriate. She'd had more than enough experience in her life to know that a smart person only trusted an ally so far; only a fool believed everything an ally told her. So what should she believe here?

She drew in. a breath to steady herself. "Why should I believe what you're telling me?"

"Because you can feel the truth of what I say. Because you have seen that there is more to the world than your race's skeptical scientists would have you believe. Because you know we have common cause here. Or perhaps for some other reason. You are having some trouble assimilating what I have said, but I am sure that you will come to believe its truth. You can reach no other conclusion.

"We are natural allies, you and I. Our races are allies as well. My kind was bom of this earth and of this reality as was yours, and we have shared this world in harmony for longer than you can know. Our races are not like the soulless creatures of the otherworld.

"In times past our races have worked together. Throughout the centuries, your kind has received much good aid and advice from mine, although your histories record little of it. You tall folk are very self-important. But this is hardly the time to
air
old complaints. As I said, we knew harmony in the past; we can again know such pleasant times, but only if we act to forestall the dangers before us. The otherworld threatens our harmony. Once again your kind and mine must stand together against a mutual foe. We have a common cause. We have a joint interest in eliminating the influence of the unnatural creatures of that other reality."

"Creatures like Quetzal?"

"Unfortunately, Quetzal is one of your own kind. Seduced by and given over to the lure of chaos, but human. Originally, anyway."

"How can you say that? I saw how it sucked the life out of Doctor Hasukawa and the others. This Quetzal isn't human. It is some land of monstrous vampire creature from the otherworld."

"Quetzal is neither from the otherworld nor a vampire. Well, in some senses, he is a vampire, but I'm used to that word applying to a different sort of monster. Even if Quetzal were a vampire, that would not change his genetics. Your legends say that a vampire was once a normal, mortal man—or woman—so there is no escaping your kinship to him. But genetics are mostly irrelevant here. What is important in this case is that Quetzal has surrendered to evil, that he has fallen into the false faith, and that he has embraced the chaos. He has been deluded. If unopposed, he will drag others to a similar doom. The chaos is seductive, but its promises are those of a poxed whore. In the end there is a far greater payment than one bargains for. There is no hope of redemption for the fallen."

Pamela felt dizzy. She'd accepted Sorli's tales of the other-world and magic. She'd even acted as though it all was real. By God, she knew it
was
real! But it had all been different when Sorli had told it; the threat had come from outside, from elsewhere. Magic and its irrationality had been from somewhere else, somewhere that could be walled off. People couldn't be a part of it; they were safe from the madness.

The power leaking into the real world from the magical otherworld had the potential to remake the universe. She'd feared that change and had worked to stop it. Now it appeared she had been fighting a battle without understanding the stakes, without understanding the opposition she was facing. People could use the chaos, seizing the magic and bending it to their will. There would be people—people like Quetzal?— who would embrace such power, no matter what the personal cost. They would only see the power. Power was seductive; she knew that well enough. Men—men like Nakaguchi?— would seize upon this new avenue to power and rip apart the sanity of the world. Then where would she be?

Hagen had to be wrong; Quetzal had to be something from the otherworld.

"I can't believe it," she said.

"You mean you don't want to believe it. I fear you must. Quetzal is evil incarnatcd into a walking being."

"But Sorli never mentioned anything like Quetzal. All the magical creatures were from elsewhere. They weren't human."

"Did he not speak to you of sleepers and the danger that they posed?"

"He told me that the awakening of the sleepers would release magic. 1 feared the chaos that would bring, and that was more than enough to fear. Sorli never hinted that the sleepers were things like Quetzal."

"They are not all like Quetzal. Quetzal is the immediate danger against whom we must unite. Hourly this creature's hold on Nakaguchi's imagination grows. Soon Quetzal may command more than his interest."

Though she suspected she already knew the answer, she asked, "Just what are you suggesting?"

"Quetzal must be destroyed," Hagen said quickly.

Sorli had been bloody-minded, too. A dwarvish trait? "As in murdered?"

"One does not murder a rabid dog."

One has it put down. Just as one puts down any memories of how much a part of a family the dog might once have been; one had to think about the safety of the family, about stopping the harm from growing further. But euphemisms did not change the nature of the act; killing was killing. Was killing the answer here?

"Nakaguchi will oppose any such action."

Hagen nodded. "His opposition must be avoided."

How far was Hagen prepared to go? "Or overcome?"

"If necessary."

So bloody-minded. Was she any different? Hagen's suggestions were not wholly unattractive. If Hagen eliminated Nakaguchi, Nakaguchi's threat to her position would die along with him. She would be in control again.

She lifted her eyes to meet Hagen's. "I suppose you have a plan."

"Several, actually."

"For contingencies."

"Exactly so."

"1 think it could be interesting to work together with you on a project, Mr. Hagen."

"My feelings exactly, Ms. Martinez."

CHAPTER

14

The world was so much bigger than it used to be. While the view from Quetzal's suite took in only a small part of that wide world, even that sometimes overwhelmed him.

Buildings, buildings as far as the eye could see and beyond. Each twinkled with a constellation of lights, which from a distance appeared to be stars. Those man-made stars were poor replacements for the real stars. How deplorable that the imitations masked the real.

There were few stars to be seen by looking up in this new age. The glow of the man-blight called the sprawl ate them and even dimmed the light of the moon's great globe. For truth, there were still lights to be seen in the sky: aircraft lights. The multicolored lights moving with deliberate speed across the night sky were another of mankind's mockeries of the celestial glory.