Beating Heart Cadavers (15 page)

He smiled to himself and looked out the kitchen window at where the sky had turned to a murky, unsaturated shade of blue and wondered if that was how it would look in Hasenkamp, too. No, he decided, giving it another thought – it wouldn't be partly-cloudy: it would be partly sunny.

Ch. 20

Merdow was reclining in his wing-backed chair when his secretary informed him of the visitor, and he lazily pulled a folder over to him and propped it open to a random page before telling her to send him in.

“Jasper,” he cooed as the albino shuffled in. “What a surprise – what an honor, really, to be visited by a Spöke. Well –” he backtracked, “to be visited by a Spöke for a social call, I should say.”

He gave a little chuckle even though he found nothing humorous about the thought of someone accusing him of being a Mare-person. Jasper remained quiet.

“Not that there would be any doubt about the authenticity of my heart, mind you,” Merdow continued, “though I always thought that it might have been a good idea to father a few children just to make it clear … Child support is so expensive, though. And children give me hives.”

The albino took a seat in the chair across the desk from him, but neither said anything nor gave any indication that he had heard a word of Merdow's speech. Merdow made a face.

“What about you, then?” the doll-like man continued. “I suppose you don't need to procreate to prove yourself when you're a Spöke, luckily for you. And good thing, too – think of all the little white-haired, red-eyed creatures that could be running about if you had the option. Almost like rabbits, really – or bunnies, I suppose is the term –”

The albino noticeably flinched and clenched his jaw as though he was about to be sick. Merdow paused and leaned forward, suddenly intrigued. He felt as though he had just discovered the carotid artery in an animal and was moments away from severing it to drain the creature of blood.

“Are you alright there, Jasper?” he asked. “I'd say you look pale, but …”

“I'm – fine.”

“Was it something I said? The thought of children makes me a bit queasy, too. Or did I bring up memories of the rabbit burrow incident? You were so young and …
dainty
then: I suppose that I shouldn't have brought you along.”

“I'm fine,” Jasper repeated forcefully, clearly not in the mood to discuss the other man's fondest childhood memories. “It – I had a bad lunch.”

“Oh, that's a shame. What was it? Tuna? Salmon? You didn't eat at one of those street carts, did you?
Never
eat at a street cart. You can trust the rumors about the meat, you know – and I'm telling you because I used to sell them the dogs they use for it, back before I got this job, of course.”

He paused as Jasper clamped his mouth shut more firmly, visibly swallowing to force the vomit back down his throat. As much as Merdow delighted in the Spöke's discomfort, he had just gotten his carpet shampooed and knew that it would be months before another cleaning came back into the budget.

“If I were you, I would give up meat altogether,” he said once the albino had leaned back and taken a steady breath. “I stopped eating it years ago and couldn't be happier.”

Jasper stared at him openly.

“You're a vegetarian?” he asked. “Why – do you disagree with how cruelly the industry treats the animals?”

“No, it was a health issue,” Merdow replied, clearly unfazed. “It did wonders for my skin – though I suppose it wouldn't have the same effect on you.”

Jasper scowled.

“I don't really have endless hours to worry about my appearance, Raban. There are more important things on my mind.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Jasper shifted.

“I – I've done something.”

“Have you? Well, go on: tell Uncle Raban.”

“I'm not sure that I want to anymore.”

“Oh, come now, Jasper – it can't be anything too shocking, knowing you. Does it have to do with work? It must, seeing as you don't have a personal life ...”

“It has to do with you and me, Raban, and something that needs to be done.”

“Well, I think I can guess it now,” Merdow said. “You know that I got a visit from some of Ratsel's men the other day? I'm feeling very popular with the Spöken as of late. They wanted to know about your sister, which of course you must know – I'm sure that they asked you about it, too.”

Jasper's jaw shifted. Merdow smirked more widely.

“I hope that my story matched up with yours, of course,” the doll-like man went on. “We didn't have time to talk about the details, so I just answered them honestly. You know – that
I
was the one to kill Ladeline, not you ...”

Jasper's teeth were so clenched that Merdow could see the exact curve of his malar bones. He reclined a bit more before continuing.

“But don't worry – I gave you credit where it was due, and I quashed any inkling that you might have had a part in her wrongdoings. Ratsel was concerned about the fact that she knew so much about you all –”

“What? He – he was?”

“Oh, didn't he tell you?” Merdow asked, his voice dripping with feigned surprise. “He was very worried about your allegiance, it seemed, given that your sister – a known insurgent – knew how and where to find you – within the walls of Avelinn, no less – but I made sure to tell him that you weren't the one to make her privy to such delicate matters.”

“And who
did
tell her where to find me?” Jasper asked, his eyes narrowing to a glare as he observed the mannequin-like man across from him.

Merdow raised his hands in apparent ignorance.

“I wouldn't know – I don't associate with people like her,” he said. “Though I assume it was that radical Matthias Mason, which I told them.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Jasper said cuttingly.

“Do you? Well, it hardly matters whether it was him or not, Jasper: it killed two birds with one stone. Not that I would ever use a rock to kill a bird, but I digress ...”

“You shouldn't have said anything about what happened at all, Raban,” Jasper snapped. “And I'll thank you to stop speaking to my superiors about me, Ladeline, or Mason!”

“My, my – I see you're feeling very sensitive about this subject. Why might that be, Jasper? You're not …
upset
that Fields is dead, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Jasper turned his head to the side as though only giving Merdow the view of half his face might in any way hinder the ability to read his expression.

“Because if you were,” Merdow continued, “I might be concerned. Ladeline wasn't on our side. She wasn't like us. She had to go. She
should
have gone years ago. I did you a favor.”

“Just like you did her a favor by telling her where to find me?” Jasper asked. “What are you trying to do, Raban? Get me fired so we can both be associate-specialist-stratefiers?”

Merdow scowled at the butchering of his job title.

“I was helping you, Jasper. Fields was going to kill you.”

“Is that what you told Ratsel? You left out the bit about shooting her in the back, though, I suppose – wouldn't want to admit that you couldn't do it properly –”

“I shot her in the back because you pussyfooted for so long that she would have been crossing into the Wastelands before you could man-up enough to do it yourself –”

“I – I could have done it myself, Raban!” Jasper said, struggling to collect himself. “I – that's what the Spöken do: we kill! And we actually kill
people
– not house mice and neighborhood pets like you!”

Merdow's face twisted in acrimony.

“And yet you couldn't kill your sister?” he asked, his voice barely managing to maintain its pleasantness. “So that must mean … what, exactly? That you don't know where your allegiances lie?”

“I know exactly where they lie, Raban.”

“You nearly puked on my carpet on your way in: that's not the sign of someone who's feeling guiltless over something they've done.”

“It had nothing to do with Ladeline – I told you that.”

“You haven't spoken to me in years, Jasper – not since you were initiated into the Spöken. Don't tell me that it's a coincidence that you just happen to show up at my office less than two weeks after watching me murder your sister?”

“I showed up because I have a lot on my mind – from work,” Jasper said. “And – yes – seeing you at Avelinn had something to do with it, but only because it reminded me of your existence – not because I give a shit about what happened to Ladeline.”

“You wanted a break from work? Don't insult my intelligence, Jasper.” Merdow looked at him closely, and a sudden thought occurred to him. “Or maybe you're not upset about little Ladeline after all. Maybe you're upset about the ambassador shutting down the charging facilities – is that right?”

“I don't care about the charging facilities.”

“Don't you? You might be singing a different tune when it comes time to charge that metal box inside your chest. Or is that not how you go about it? Maybe you have your own means of charging your heart? A private supply of Hilitum, perhaps?”

“I haven't needed Hilitum in years – not since I was a teenager.”

“I don't think it's something one simply
grows
out of Jasper, though I'm not an expert, of course. You know more about being a Mare-person than I do.”

He smiled – a wide, toothy smile unlike his usual contained ones – and it pulled his face like a ball of clay that had been stretched into nearly two pieces.

“But Ladeline was a bit concerned about you, wasn't she? I admit that I missed part of the conversation – what with trying to find the two of you in the dark swamps – but I do seem to remember her saying something about a defect, of sorts, that you have. Is that right?”

Jasper didn't respond, but his flushed face said enough for him.

“Who would have guessed that your albinism and metal heart were connected? I suppose the idea ought to have occurred to me: after all, one person can't have the misfortune of being so unsightly both inside and out ...”

Jasper's neck cracked as he looked over towards the door. His hands were shaking in his lap, looking every bit as much like the terrified little bunnies Merdow had suggested.

“What's the matter, Jasper? Frightened that someone might hear us?” Merdow asked. “Don't worry. Martha's heard plenty of things over the years and, as far as I know, she's never told a soul. Besides, what do you really have to be afraid of anymore? By the sound of it, your death is fast approaching. Soon you and Ladeline will be walking through the afterlife together. I imagine that your kind go to a private one, though – any form of heaven would be ruined by the inclusion of Mare-folk, don't you think?”

“I don't know,” Jasper said. “It's possible. Of course, where would that put your kind, Raban?”

Merdow's head gave a little twitch. He looked at Jasper unexpectedly.

“I'm not sure what you mean, Jasper. My kind …? I'm a real person –”

“A real person who's been sterilized by a Mare-folk,” Jasper cut in. “Don't think I don't know why Ladeline broke your back, Raban. Don't think I don't know what you did to her first.”

Merdow's tongue slid over his perfectly straight teeth in such haste that it was a wonder it wasn't slit open.

“You must have been pretty surprised, weren't you?” Jasper continued. “How long did it take you to figure it out? While you were still in the body-cast, or sometime afterwards? I bet you regretted raping her then –”

“Ladeline had it coming to her,” Merdow hissed. “Everything that's happened to her, she had coming to her. The only thing I regret is that it didn't come sooner before it ruined my life, too.”

“Did you even have a reason for doing it, or were you just bored and out of neighborhood pets to gut?” Jasper asked coolly, finally gaining the upper hand. “And don't tell me it was lust: we both know that that wasn't on your radar.”

He looked Merdow up and down, waiting for the answer. It was clear that he had little to lose now that his life was approaching its end, and the only thing stopping him from giving Merdow's secret away was what Merdow could bribe him with to keep it.

“I was proving a point,” Merdow said at last, his teeth clenched and gritted. “She didn't seem to take our parents' proposal that we'd be married too seriously. I was trying to … persuade her.”

“Well, you did a very good job,” Jasper patronized.

“So that's why you've come?” Merdow asked silkily. “To taunt me about my little … secret? I would think carefully about doing that if I was you, Jasper. After all, as far as I knew, the only person who knew was Ladeline, and look what I did to her.”

“You might have a bit more trouble getting rid of me. I'm a Spöke, Raban.”

“You're a Mare-person masquerading as a Spöke,” Merdow corrected. “If I were to kill you, I wouldn't even have to bother burying the body – I could just go up to Avelinn and tell Ratsel how I found out what you are and did him the favor of disposing of you.”

“And then what? What're you imagining? That he'll welcome you into the Spöken with open arms?”

“I'm sure that they would find a place for me. One that wouldn't be too hard on my back –”

“Your back's not what stopped you from becoming a Spöke,” Jasper spat. “There're plenty of people with worse ailments who've become Spökes. The only reason they didn't take you is because you weren't good enough for the job – if anything, you should've thanked Ladeline for giving you an excuse all these years for having such a mediocre job –”