The Eternal World (27 page)

“And what do you require of me?”

“Drop the guns,” she said, “and we’ll talk.”

A genuine smile crossed Carlos’s face for the first time in decades. He felt something he thought long dead inside him: curiosity. At the very least, this should be worth missing
Gilligan
.

He dropped the guns.

DAVID WAS SURPRISED TO
find that a drug lab actually made a fairly decent genetics research facility.

Carlos’s employees, like all of Silicon Valley and Wall Street, were always on the lookout for the Next Big Thing. Once the cartels discovered that the addition or subtraction of a few molecules could result in a formerly illegal drug instantly becoming an entirely new—and legal—substance, they began investing in high-tech equipment.

Carlos had accepted Shako’s offer quickly, and immediately began treating them both as valued guests. He gave them huge, airy rooms and servants to see to their every need.

Still, it was not exactly elegant. Aside from Carlos’s screening room—where the fat man spent most of his time—the furniture and fixtures, while expensive, all looked as if they were purchased in bulk, then left to rot. The couches were white leather, scarred with cigarette burns and stains. Turning on a lamp or a faucet or flushing a toilet was a 50/50 proposition at best.

But Carlos was never less than a gracious host. They ate with him every night in a dining room that could have seated twenty, and were served gourmet meals by Emilio, who walked like he was constantly expecting a blow to the head.

“It doesn’t really seem like he wants to kill you,” David said to Shako once.

She gave him an icy smile. “He wants to live more than he wants to see me die,” she said. “That’s why you’re here.”

The deal was simple: in exchange for his loyalty and support, Carlos would get David’s cure. David would be given everything he needed to make it, and they would be protected from the other members of the Council by Carlos’s army of drug warriors.

As a result, David had several assistants, high-powered microscopes and lab equipment, and a clean room that was better than many of the ones he’d worked in while in grad school.

His guide around the lab was Rajiv, a cheerfully amoral young man with a bachelor’s in pharmacology and a master’s in molecular microbiology (vocational) from the University of Mumbai. Any equipment the lab didn’t already have, Rajiv promised he could have shipped and installed within forty-eight hours.

He was as good as his word. Within a week, the process of re-creating the hydrogels was well under way. David had only to watch and step in at a few crucial places. Otherwise, it was all working even better than the first batch.

His work was easier, but that came with a downside: he also had more time to think.

Shako.

He sometimes wondered how much of her story was true, and how much had been crafted specifically for him.

Carlos liked to talk. And while not exactly friendly, the big man seemed to like having an audience for his stories.

Shako could not stand to be in the same room with him, so she would leave as soon as possible. But David listened, and with a few questions, prodded Carlos into talking about his shared history with Shako.

Much of what she’d told him was supported by Carlos. But even so, it was disturbing. The force of will, the hatred, necessary to sustain a centuries-long campaign against these men was terrifying to David. Logically, he knew that his own moments with her were insignificant by comparison.

The more David thought about it, the colder it left him. When he approached it like one of the problems in the lab, the answer kept coming up the same. He was a means to an end for Shako, and nothing more.

She had been using him, after all. For something far larger than he could have ever imagined. But using him nonetheless.

He wondered if he could live with that. He’d been dragged into this war against his will, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight it. He wondered what would happen if he said no to any one of Shako’s requests, if he tried to walk away and go home now.

Again, he reached an answer he didn’t like.

At the moment, he seemed to have no choice. And, stupid as it might have seemed, he still wanted her. He wanted to believe she loved him, and that it made everything else small by comparison.

That all changed when the messenger arrived.

THE MAN WAS ESCORTED
into the foyer by several of Carlos’s guards. He was well dressed, polite, and unarmed.

“You know him?” Shako asked. She and David had been summoned by Carlos to see the messenger as well.

Carlos nodded. “He’s been here before. Simon sent him.”

A rapid-fire conversation in Spanish between Carlos and the messenger followed. The messenger opened a bag—very slowly—and withdrew a flat black rectangle. It took David a moment to recognize it. It was a videotape.

The messenger was allowed to leave. Carlos took the tape up to his room. Shako and David went with him.

The tape went into an antique VCR. The sound of it whirring to life brought back deep memories from David’s childhood, when he would watch rented movies with his sister to pass the time.

“Who still uses videotape?” he asked.

“Quiet,” Shako and Carlos both hissed in response.

At first there was only a black screen and the sound of something bumping up against the camera’s microphone.

Then images began to appear. A peaceful main street of a small town. From the trees, David knew it was Florida. Video of children in a park, running and playing. Old people in lawn chairs outside their home. Cars in the parking lot of the local supermarket. A school. A small hospital. The shaky handheld footage would stop and start as the camera was turned on and off between shots.

Finally, a lingering view of the local post office. The sign out front read C
YPRESS
G
ROVE
.

Carlos laughed once.

Shako didn’t say anything, but David saw her jaw clench slightly.

Then a man appeared on the screen. David didn’t recognize him, but Shako and Carlos both did.

“Aznar,” Carlos said.

“Hush,” Shako ordered him.

“Shako,” the man called Aznar said. “I suppose this will find you with Carlos. If you haven’t already killed him. And Carlos, if she hasn’t already killed you, you’ll wish she did. That’s all I have to say to you, you piece of shit.”

Carlos laughed again.

The tape went on. “Shako, this has all gone on too long. The world is growing too small. I wanted to let you know that things have changed. Simon is no longer in charge. We are no longer willing to tolerate your existence as he did. We are done suffering you. So this is the only offer I am going to make. Come back to the United States, bring Robinton with you, and I will make your end quick and painless. If not, I will murder every single person in this little backwater town. You know I can do it. I am here already. So make up your mind, Shako. Or lose another village.”

The screen went blue. The tape was over.

“What the hell was that about?” David asked.

“Cypress Grove,” Shako said. “It’s a small town. Mostly Seminole. Not far from where all this began.”

“Simon has lost the throne,” Carlos said.

“They’re desperate. They never would have accepted Aznar’s return if Simon still had any hold on them. Their supplies must be lower than I thought. They’re panicking. Typical cowardice from your kind.”

“No offense taken,” Carlos said.

Shako ignored him.

“So, that was Aznar,” David said. “You told me about him. He’ll really kill them all?”

She shrugged. “He’ll try. He’s done worse.”

David thought he was beyond surprise by now. He was wrong. “He would try to kill a whole town? Actually murder every person in it?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll have help,” Carlos said. “But yes, it’s quite feasible. You have an isolated population, only one or two entrance roads, jam the radio waves, cut phone lines, and take out the local police first. Then you go house to house, sweep out the residents . . .”

“That’s enough, thank you,” Shako said.

“He asked. I’m just telling him how it’s done.”

“We have to go back,” David said.

She gave him a cold look. “You think I should surrender myself to them?”

“Or stop them. Those people—”

“—can take care of themselves,” Shako said. “I will not come running when Aznar snaps his fingers.”

David was suddenly incensed. “They didn’t ask for this. Those are innocent people. If there’s any chance our going back can save them, then we should go back.”

“Do you think I’m only protecting myself? He’ll kill you. Not as quickly as he’d kill me, but he’d get around to it, once you were no longer of use,” Shako said.

“We’ll think of something. We’ll find a way to beat him.”

“We?” Shako smiled. “There is no ‘we’ here, David. This is not up to you. I have one advantage over them, and that is the fact that you are not with them. I will not give that up. If they want to survive, they have to come here and get you, and I’ll kill them when they arrive. Or they will die when the Water runs out and they turn to dust. Either way, they will not continue to hide like roaches in the cracks of history.”

“Again, no offense taken,” Carlos said.

She ignored him again. “Either way, they will die. That’s all that matters.”

After all he’d heard about Simon and Shako’s five-hundred-year war, David tried not to be shocked by the callousness of it. He failed.

“And to hell with anyone who gets caught in the middle?”

“They can take care of themselves. I told you that once. Now we are done discussing this,” she said, and left the room.

Carlos turned to David from his chair. “Want to watch some TV? There’s always a game on somewhere.”

David didn’t respond. Until that moment, he hadn’t seen it. He hadn’t wanted to see it. From a five-hundred-year-old perspective, Shako and Simon barely even registered normal people anymore. Like ants under their feet.

“Come on, boy, don’t pout,” Carlos said. “It’s not like you’re going to run off and save those people all by yourself.”

“No,” David admitted. “Not by myself. You’re going to help me.”

It was time to start making his own decisions again. It was time to remind Shako and Simon both what it meant to be human.

BY THAT NIGHT, EVERYTHING
was ready.

David went to Shako’s room. They had been sleeping apart for days now. David thought it helped him keep a clearer head.

She stood at the window, looking for something. She didn’t turn around when he entered, but she knew he was there.

“What?” she asked. “You’ve come to forgive me?”

“No,” David said.

When she turned, she saw that David wore a light summer suit—one of the many gifts from Carlos they’d both been given—and a briefcase locked to his wrist by handcuffs.

“That’s an interesting ensemble,” she said. “Taking a trip?”

“Hopefully we both are. I came to ask you for something.”

She waited.

“I want you to come with me. Help me save those people in Cypress Grove. We go there, get the police, the National Guard, whatever it takes. Protect them from Aznar.”

She simply said, “No.”

“You’re really willing to let innocent people die for your vendetta?”

“Everyone is willing to sacrifice others for their goals, David. Even you.”

“I would never—”

“Elizabeth. That little girl. She trusted you.”

David was caught up short.

“I saved her.”

“You could have killed her.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You were willing to take the risk. And you put her life at risk again. Did you ever bother to check on her again after you used her as an experiment?”

“I— There was a lot going on. With you. With work. I knew she was taken care of at the hospital.”

“You made her a target. The Council does not want anyone to know their secrets. Even little girls.”

David went pale. “Oh my God. Did they—?”

“No,” Shako said. “But only because I was there to stop them. So spare me your moralizing, please. You used her and you nearly killed her. Twice.”

David put a hand on a nearby chair to steady himself. He sucked down a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he said. “I fucked up. All the more reason I should do the right thing now. And so should you.”

She laughed. “Go away, David,” she said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He looked sad. Then he stood up straighter. “Here’s what I know,” he said. “I know that I will not let anyone else die for this. Not if I can help it.”

David put the briefcase down on a table, then popped it open. Inside, cradled in impact foam, were a half dozen miniature jet injectors, smaller versions of the kind used for mass vaccinations. They were loaded with plastic vials, filled with clear liquid.

“I’ve made six doses of the hydrogels. They’re all in here. I’ve promised them to Carlos.”

Shako was instantly on edge. She shifted her weight, moved forward onto the balls of her feet. Ready to fight.

“But only if he takes me back to stop Aznar.”

She put one foot forward, light as a ballerina. “I can’t allow that,” she said. “You are too valuable. Aznar cannot get his hands on you. He will break you, David. He would torture you until you gave him anything he wanted. I cannot risk that. Do you understand what I am saying?
I will not let you go to him.
”

“Why did you save me, Shako?”

That stopped her. “What?”

“You could have let me die in Florida. I had a bullet hole in me. All you had to do was wait a minute. Then you could have gone after Simon. You could have gotten them all, probably. You’d be that much closer to that vengeance you’ve wanted for so long. So why didn’t you?”

Shako didn’t reply.

“Here’s what I think. I think you’re not inhuman, as much as you’d like to be. I think the others have become less than they were, but you’ve become more. I think you still believe in something more than what it takes to keep life going and what it takes to end it. I’m a scientist. I couldn’t name whatever that thing is. It doesn’t show up on any test. But I believe in it just the same. I have to, because that’s the thing I’ve been trying to preserve. Not just the mechanical pieces of the body. But the thing inside. The thing that tells us why we live. I hope there’s a part of you that feels the same way.”