8

I ascended the long passage and came out through a small connector into a place like a reception office. Along the way I slipped the holoscreen glasses I’d been given into a pocket. As I swung into alignment with the room I found there was a current of gravity that gave the place a floor-ceiling orientation. At the far end a set of oak doors stood resolutely closed. A woman reclined in a desk station clamped to the wall. She was an elegant beauty wearing a custom suit that was cut with the tasteful sense of actual fashion.

“Hello there, I’ll let Mr. Burton know you’re here. You shouldn’t have to wait more than a moment unless he’s on a call,” the woman said. She lifted her left forearm and spoke quietly into the smooth, black cuff of a prosthetic device. She nodded and waved me toward the door which unsealed with a click and a hiss.

The inner office beyond was without a doubt the nicest room in space. The floor was covered with high end carpet and in the middle of the room sat a massive wooden desk. Along one wall there were glass cases with displays of ancient manuscripts and medieval books. The comfortable looking leather chairs probably had real leather. The man sitting at the desk watched me intently as I walked into the room. He had a calculating sort of gaze. I couldn’t really tell if he was barely thirty or pushing his sixties. His dark brown hair was sprinkled with flecks of white and gray but some of the lines on his brow looked to be of deeper age.

Slowly, deliberately, he rose and came around the desk to offer a hand in greeting. He spoke without hiding his enthusiasm. “Miss Seidel, I’ve wanted to meet you for some time. Unfortunately I never got to meet the Knights in person when we worked together in the past.”

In the past? I didn’t remember working with someone like him, but my brother was the one who handled most of our negotiations. We’d sometimes taken on jobs from businessmen to crush rivals and other things that bordered on mercenary work. The money was needed and a blow against some part of the system was good enough for us even if some other part benefited from it. Some of the oligarchs even claimed to be genuine backers of our efforts. So, which one are you?

I turned away from his extended hand and sat in front of the desk. He nonchalantly returned to his own seat and went on. “My name is William Burton. I supported the Knights back in the day and coordinated with your brother quite a bit on some operations. I profited well from our arrangements, but honestly I was mostly interested in bankrolling the agenda you developed for yourselves.”

Just how closely had he collaborated with Sebastian? It had to have been a deep connection if he had told Burton about my involvement with the Knights. Brother had not gone into much detail about our sponsors and patrons; many were essentially anonymous, but this one had to be closer.

“And what is it you want from me now?”

“Straight to the point, eh?” He sighed. “It’s probably better that you and I speak without pretenses anyway.”

Like you’re even capable of that you smug bastard.

“Diego’s already shown you the device we acquired. I’d like to have you help get it operational again-”

“What the hell are you thinking bringing something that dangerous up here?” I interjected violently.

He coolly replied, “Hopefully our little refuge here in orbit stays safe, but someday we’ll be continuing our mission on the ground.”

“What mission is that exactly?”

“You should be quite familiar with what we’re doing. After all, I’m building a replacement for the Knights since your idiot brother broke my toy.” His tone took on a darker edge. “The only meaningful slap in the face to the system of control in half a century and it ends like that.”

I asked him through bared fangs, “What do you know about his plan?”

“All I heard was that he was hiding a side job from you. He stopped trusting me at the end, probably because he knew I’d have done something to stop him. For instance, if I had contacted you…”

Scum, if you had brought even a hint of suspicion to me we might have stopped it. If I had doubted him a moment sooner!

Burton turned away to look at the large screen set into the wall opposite his book collection. Blue and green blurred in the labyrinth of a simulated misty rain forest. He continued, “The anti-terrorist crackdowns were almost as devastating to our cause as the morale breaker of seeing what happened to the Knights. I’ve heard a lot of the remaining rebels decry those who turned into outright mercenaries working for any party, but only a few of us are lucky enough to be rich. I could afford to pay all the bribes and keep food on the table.”

I knew that he’d done a lot more than that. The details were obscure to me, but I’d at least heard his name before in connection with orbital automated factories. Now he’s bought a damn space station as his private yacht in international waters.

Before I could spit venomous wrath at him, he asked, “Do you want to know who that boy really is?”

“You mean your errand runner?”

“You should take it as a sign of my good faith that I share this with you.”

Screw yo-

“He was born Isidro De Leon.”

It took a moment for the name to sink in and stir up an association. I asked in a hush, “That De Leon?”

“The infamous mad scientist.”

“His son?” I wasn’t ready to believe Burton even if he told me that the sun was bright. I sarcastically added, “An interesting specimen for your menagerie.”

He nodded slowly. “And a supposedly dead witness to another supposed death.”

That would be an audacious lie. The discoverer of aetheric energy and pioneer in its development toward utilization had been killed along with his wife and child in a horrible car accident. That was the official story, but rumors circulated wildly among the black hats and other underground cliques. Your average sprawlfolk probably didn’t even believe that Mateo De Leon had ever existed.

“This was something I had hoped you and your brother could one day pursue.”

But we did pull on that thread, how could we not? All we turned up were tall tales and death certificates.

“About a week before the accident, Dr. De Leon showed up on my doorstep. Not my public doorstep, but the private one known to my friends. He told me that he was afraid for his son’s life; had already given up on his own.”

“You!” I accused with a roar of revived interest. “You know already, don’t you? You were that close to it!”

He shook his head and answered with regret. “I have many friends, miss Seidel. The doctor was someone I had known in college. His interests at the time were eccentric, but worthless. He disappeared from my life for many years before tumbling back into the world as the mythical father of the new physics. The veil of secrecy and machine guns was too thick for me to penetrate, but then out of the blue one day he left his kid with me and went off to…”

“Do you have proof?”

“Would you trust anything I present to you? I’ll offer you the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. You’ve seen the official files and the classified files; go ask Isidro what he remembers.”

It would be an audacious lie, but it’s good bait. If Mateo De Leon was still out there somewhere, he was target number one for anyone who wanted to figure out what was really behind aetheric energy. Wrestling ownership of reality free from the system of control would be a monumental step in balancing the scales to favor the common people.

“I’m betting that you’ll want to act on what you learn; it’s really that simple. If you ever feel that I’m conning you, you`re free to walk away. In one way or another you can destroy me and everything that I’ve built; no one knows that better than I do.”

It was the talk of madness I had left behind seven years ago. Even though it still haunted the soundscape of my nightmares, it was not a shock to hear it uttered in the waking world. Seeing that gauntlet again had started me sliding back into that mindset. It was like the intervening days of idleness closed up and I had only just stepped off the elevator rig a moment ago. I hated to admit that this character was the only one who had spoken my language in years. I’d never gotten to the point where I could understand normal conversation.

My mouth was dry but I refused to reach for the pitcher of water on the low table next to me. The glasses on its silver platter were sparkling crystal artworks. At last I asked, “What’s the end goal?”

He only shrugged. “If I set you off down this path, I won’t be able to decide how it ends. I can control him, unless it’s your word against mine.” A whimsical smile crept up behind the stubble of Burton’s beard. His voice started to drip with cruelty which sounded to be directed at some third party. “I’m just trying to get the best return on my investment.”

I stood; I felt the need to stand up to him. It was the only way I could walk away from the whole thing. If I was going to ever believe I was doing the right thing, I had to at least do that much. Without saying anything to that detestable oligarch, I left his lair and headed down to the college below.