Interesting Places (Interesting Times #2) (5 page)

Oliver nodded. He had no idea how he
was supposed to react to all of this. “I guess I misjudged her,” he said.

“How so?”

“She
is
a monster.”

“No,” Artemis said. “She is not. She
made a mistake.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending
her,” Oliver said. “It’s…it’s actually
genocide
, for god’s sake. You
call that a mistake?”

“I did not say the act itself was not
monstrous. I would be careful who you call a monster, Mr. Jones. Should we ask
the Kalatari what they think of you?”

“You did kill all those lizard people,”
Jeffrey nodded. “I was there. I saw it. You put the whammy on them.”

“But I had no idea what I was doing!”
Oliver protested. “And it’s not like they were really people, anyway.”

“They would have disagreed,” Artemis
said. “As do I. That was a rather callous statement, Mr. Jones.”

Oliver already regretted having said
it. He’d very nearly liked one of the Kalatari, even though he’d seen the man
eat a human liver right in front of him. “Well, they
were
trying to kill
me at the time.”

“And if they had just murdered someone
you loved, would you have been merciful to them?”

“But…” Oliver stammered. “The cyborgs
had been cured. They were people again.”

“True. I suppose it is a small mercy
that they did not have very long to enjoy their restored humanity before she
wiped them out.”

Oliver could barely believe what he
was hearing. Artemis could be cold at times; he assumed that was something that
went along with her extended life span. He had never seen her just write off
human life so easily, though.

“In any case,” Artemis continued,
“Sally serves me as a form of penance, if you will. Call it a work-release
program. She is well aware she can never make up for what she did, but I will
see that she spends the rest of her life trying. I can be satisfied with that.”

“I’m not sure
I
can,” Oliver
said.

Artemis poured herself another cup of
tea. “If you cannot, you are free to resign your position.”

“
What
? Just like that?”

“It is simple math, Mr. Jones. She is
worth more to me than you are. Even if she were not, I accepted responsibility
for her when I brought her here. I cannot abandon that because it is
inconvenient for you.”

Oliver opened his mouth and then shut
it again, not sure what to say next. “Would you really let me go?” he asked. “I
remember when you offered me this job, you were ready to drug me and lock me up
somewhere if I hadn’t taken it.”

“I was,” Artemis admitted. “I was
concerned your ability to alter reality made you too dangerous to leave you
unsupervised. However, you have proven unable to do much of anything with your
power since your encounter with the Kalatari. I like you well enough, Mr.
Jones, and I believe you are an asset to my team, but I will not stop you if
you wish to leave us. If you have any sense at all, however, you will at least
take a few days to consider the matter most carefully.”

Oliver wanted to pretend there was
something to deliberate, but he knew there really wasn’t. He had lived a very
mundane life before he’d met Artemis and the others. Since then things had been
anything but mundane. It was as if he’d spent his entire life watching a
black-and-white television and one day suddenly switched to color. Things
weren’t always perfect in his new life, but he wasn’t about to go back to a black-and-white
one. “I’m fine,” he said. “I was just shocked, I guess.”

Artemis nodded. “That is fair. It was
shocking news.” She gave him a reproachful look. “It would have been much less
shocking if you had read the files I provided you with earlier.”

Jeffrey had been silent for a while.
“You said it was a mirror?” he asked. Artemis nodded. “Does this mean there are
different versions of us in Sally’s world? Like, me and Oliver are there but we
have little beards and we’re evil?”

Oliver suppressed a groan. “No,”
Artemis said. “While there are many similarities between that world and ours,
there are not copies of you there, much less
evil
copies. You are
unique, little cat.”

“Well, that’s what I
thought
.
I just wanted to make sure in case an evil me showed up and started causing
trouble.”

“I assure you that will not happen.”
Artemis sighed. “It occurs to me that I may have spoken too harshly to Sally
earlier. To tell you the truth, Mr. Jones, I have not yet forgiven her for what
she did. Perhaps I will someday. Perhaps not. I will caution you, though. If
you cannot find it within yourself to be kind to her in the next few days, I do
not want you near her at all. You may take sick leave with my blessing.”

“We get sick leave?” Jeffrey asked.

“You do not technically work here,”
Artemis pointed out.

“Oh, yeah,” Jeffrey said. “I’m more
of a consultant.”

“I don’t…” Oliver started. “Never
mind. I don’t need sick leave. I doubt the subject is going to come up again.”

“I am not sure,” Artemis said. “Her
reaction tonight was not what I expected.”

“How so?”

“It was grief, Mr. Jones. She
is…mourning.”

“I think she’s always mourning,”
Jeffrey pointed out. “She doesn’t smile much.”

“That is true, but I believe she is
mourning her victims. I cannot recall seeing her do that before.”

Oliver nodded. Sally usually bragged
about having killed the cyborgs, but Oliver had never taken it very seriously.
Of course, until tonight, he hadn’t understood what that really meant. “So
that’s a good thing, right?”

“Perhaps so. However, Sally tends to
be given to extremes. Given her course of action the last time she felt grief,
I do not yet feel we should be celebrating.”

But that had been a different case,
Oliver thought. After her sister’s death, Sally had gone after those she felt
were responsible for it. But even if she
was
mourning the cyborgs, she
was the one responsible for killing them. She could hardy take revenge on
herself. And given that she could neither return home nor return the cyborgs to
life, there wasn’t much else left for her to do.

Oliver wondered why he wasn’t more reassured
by that thought.

Chapter 6

Oliver was back in the office at 9:15
the next morning. The first thing he noticed was the flowers. More than a dozen
different arrangements littered Bruce’s desk at reception. It looked like a
florist’s truck had crashed in their lobby. “What the hell?” he asked.

“We’re popular this morning,” Bruce
shrugged. “I think it’s about your trip to Romania.” Artemis had recruited
Bruce for the reception position from off of the street. Literally off of the
street; Bruce had been panhandling for change at the corner of California and
Drumm when she had found him. He was paid to be polite to visitors,
intimidating on the rare occasions it was necessary, and for the fact he didn’t
mind sitting behind a desk full of weapons he wasn’t afraid to use. He didn’t
speak much about his past, but Artemis had told Oliver once that the fact that Bruce
had nothing left to lose made him ideal for the job. Oliver had no doubt Bruce
would defend the office to the death, if necessary. He wasn’t sure how much
Bruce knew about their operations, but doubted he’d have been surprised if he’d
been called into service to drag the dead cyborg into Seven’s lab.

“Great,” Oliver said. “It smells
like…well, it actually smells pretty good in here.” Oliver had wondered aloud
before whether having a public office was such a great idea. He had imagined
his team operating out of an abandoned factory, or a space station, or possibly
the Batcave. When he’d found his new office was only a few blocks away from the
hedge fund where he’d worked before, it had been a little bit difficult to hide
his disappointment.

“Artemis wanted to see you first
thing,” Bruce said.

“Is she mad?”

“She’s Artemis.”

Oliver nodded. “Fair point.” He
wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Artemis mad. Nor did he really want to. He started
down the hallway.

Artemis was waiting behind her desk
with a pot of tea when he arrived. She always seemed to have tea ready. Seven
was already there, seated in another chair. “Come in,” Artemis said. “The tea
is hot. You should have some.”

Oliver sat down and helped himself to
a cup. “I saw the flowers,” he said. “From the families of Dracula’s victims,
or something like that?”

“Not at all. They were sent by other
vampires. Most of the major factions in the United States are represented
there. I expect others will be forthcoming. It is still quite early in the day.”

Oliver blinked. “Other vampires?
They’re…they’re
thanking
us for killing one of them?”

“Dracula is a nuisance,” Seven said.
“Nobody can stand him.”

“He makes it very difficult for the
vampire community to remain inconspicuous,” Artemis nodded. “A number of them
clearly wished to express their gratitude. While I am unconcerned with their
opinions, gratitude is always an advantageous thing.” She nodded at Seven.
“Fill Mr. Jones in, please.”

Seven hadn’t changed clothes and his
hair seemed even more out of place than it had been the last time Oliver had
seen him. He must have slept in the office, Oliver realized, if he’d slept at
all. “As I thought, the poor bastard was on his last legs. The virus that got
the others hit him as well but it didn’t initialize properly, for reasons I
don’t understand yet. Rather than disable the nanobots entirely, it made them
incapable of self-repair or replication. In time, they just started dying.” He
shrugged. “He was barely functional, to tell you the truth. He’d probably been
in hiding all this time while he worked out how to get here.”

“How
did
he get here?” Oliver
asked.

“He had a teleportation device built
into his armor. It looks like they finally got the technology working. Of
course, he was the only one left who could use it.”

“Can you reverse engineer it?”
Artemis asked. “It could come in handy.”

“Doubtful. It looks like it burned
itself out during the trip, and Sally’s guns did a number on what was left
after that. If I had a year, maybe I could come up with something.”

Oliver thought about it. “I’m not an
expert, but when I think of teleportation it’s something going from place to
place, not…”

“It wouldn’t ordinarily work between
worlds,” Seven interrupted. “You’re right. I have no idea how, but he must have
found the American Federation’s mirror and been able to analyze it. It was
under guard the last I knew, but maybe they threw it in the trash or something.
I’m surprised they didn’t smash the thing.”

“That does not answer how he got
here
,”
Artemis pointed out. “Our mirror
was
smashed.”

“But the shards still exist. That may
have been enough for him to get a general location. He only wound up 60 miles
away from the vault. We’ll probably never know for sure, though.”

“In any case, remind me to have the
rest of our mirror melted down,” Artemis said. “I do hate destroying an
artifact, but we have no further use for it, and it seems like it may be more
trouble than it’s worth.”

The phone on Artemis’s desk chimed
and she pressed the intercom button. “Maria is here,” Bruce’s voice came over
the speaker. “She has asked to see you personally. Are you available?”

Artemis considered it for a moment.
“Show her back, please.” She clicked the phone off. “This was inevitable.”

Oliver was certain he knew that name,
but couldn’t place it at first. “Isn’t she…”

“Yes, you’ve met,” Artemis said. A
moment later Maria appeared in the doorway and Oliver knew her immediately. She
looked exactly as she had during their first and only meeting six months ago.
Maria was Mexican and appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with dark hair and
eyes as cold as her blood must be. She wore an immaculate brown suit with heels
that made her about five-foot-six. In one hand she carried a small gift-wrapped
box. She bowed to Artemis.

“My master sends you greetings,” she
said.

“How are you even…” Oliver began.
“It’s broad daylight outside. Why haven’t you burned up?”

Maria smiled pleasantly at him and he
caught the glint of her fangs. “I never went outside.”

“Do you sunburn in your car, Mr.
Jones?” Artemis asked. She looked at Maria. “I receive your master’s greetings
and send my own in reply.”

Oliver nearly shook his head. He
hadn’t met a great number of vampires, but many of the ones he had tended
toward formality. Maria took that several steps farther.

“My master thanks you for your recent
kindness and prays you accept this small token,” Maria said, proffering the
box. Artemis nodded and Maria sat it down on the desk in front of her.

“Did you
all
hate Dracula?”
Oliver asked as Artemis began to unwrap the box.

Maria glared at him. “He was a…” she
hissed angrily before catching herself. “He was unworthy to be among us,” she
said, her voice calm again. “I begged my master for the honor of dispatching
him myself, but he dislikes for me to leave his side for very long.”

Oliver had met Maria’s “master,” as
well. That was John Blackwell, a reclusive hedge fund billionaire who operated
out of his estate in Sonoma, in the hilly wine country about an hour northeast
of San Francisco. Blackwell was notorious for rarely leaving his property.
Oliver had assumed he was just an eccentric until he’d actually met the man and
discovered he also had fangs. As far as he knew, John Blackwell was the oldest
vampire on the west coast, and certainly one of the most powerful.

“Oh, my,” Artemis said. Oliver looked
back to see her holding a small ivory figurine carved into the shape of a
mouse. The figurine was astonishingly lifelike; the little mouse looked like it
might scurry out of her hand and head for the door at any moment.

“That’s cute,” Oliver said.

“It’s a
netsuke
,” Artemis
said, stroking the mouse with her index finger. She looked at Oliver.
“Japanese. Mid-nineteenth century, I’d say. Mr. Blackwell knows I have a
fondness for them.” Maria nodded. “Please convey my appreciation of this kind
gift to your master.”

“My master apologizes that it is such
a humble thing,” Maria said.

“It is gratefully received.”

“As you say, it will be done. I will
now depart.”

“Be well, Maria.”

Maria turned and left the office.
Seven looked at the
netsuke
curiously. “You want me to carbon date
that?”

“Of course not,” Artemis said. “It
would be a crime to damage it.” She placed the
netsuke
delicately on her
desk and stroked its head.

“Is there a reason we fight some
vampires and leave others alone?” Oliver asked.

“Is it not obvious?” Artemis asked.
Oliver waited until she looked at him as she might a small, stupid child. “Have
you ever heard of vampires terrorizing Solano County?”

“Of course not. There would be a
panic.”

“Have you ever heard of a vampire
terrorizing small villages in Romania?”

“Well, yes. That’s why you sent us
there.”

“There is your answer. In any case,
John Blackwell no doubt believes he owes me a favor now.
Another
favor,
I should say. I spoke rather firmly to him after he failed to protect you at
his estate.”

Oliver nodded. Sally had taken him to
hide out at Blackwell’s house while the lizard people had been hunting him. One
of the vampire’s servants had bitten him in an attempt to turn him into a
vampire and stage a coup against Blackwell. It hadn’t ended well for her.
Oliver’s body had violently rejected vampire blood, and Maria had torn the
servant’s head off with her bare hands as punishment.

Maria reminded Oliver a little bit of
an iceberg. On the surface, she looked harmless. It was what lay underneath
that could tear you to bits. She was the only person Sally had ever shown the
slightest bit of fear about dealing with.

“I guess you’re right,” Oliver said.

“I’ve been doing this for a very long
time,” Artemis said. “Of course I am right. How was your evening?”

“Fine, thanks.” Artemis stared at
him. “Oh, right, you don’t make small talk. Nothing unusual happened. I watched
TV with Jeffrey and went to bed.”

Artemis nodded. “Very good. That is
more or less what I expected. Have you spoken with Sally?”

“No. Is she going to be in today?”

“She will not. Tyler is keeping an
eye on her.”

Oliver hesitated, not sure about his
next question. “How is she doing?”

“She is traumatized. That was to be
expected. I believe last night was the first time she ever had to face what she
did. I do not imagine it was easy for her. Frankly, I would send her on
vacation, but she has nobody in her life other than us and I don’t want her to
be alone. In the past I felt that working was the best thing for her. I believe
that remains the case.”

“Yeah.”

“Take the day to catch up on your
reading, Mr. Jones. You will very likely need at least some of the information
contained there in the future. Remember, information is our greatest weapon.”

Oliver did exactly that. He intended
to merely skim through the stack of files to make a good dent in it, but got
caught up reading about a case dating back to 1932. A British submarine had sunk
near Dorset, killing the entire crew. It took the British eight days to find
it. Artemis’s team had found it in three. Two of them had even gone down to the
wreck to retrieve something identified only as “Package A-32.” There was no
mention in the file as to exactly what the package was or what it did, but it
had been moved to the vault in southern Virginia shortly afterward.

The vaults fascinated Oliver. The
Araneae Group had five of them scattered around the world. Each was located
deep underground in a fortified bunker. Each had only one access point
protected by heavily-armed security personnel. The security officers couldn’t
actually reach the vaults they protected themselves; that was reserved for
Artemis and her teams. Access required retinal scanning and voice print
analysis. The vaults were the resting places of various artifacts and devices
The Araneae Group had collected over the years. The things inside were either
too dangerous to be exposed to the outside world, or they were things that needed
to be protected
until
they were needed in the outside world. The nearest
one was Vault 3, in Santa Clara, just an hour south of San Francisco. Tyler had
gone down there on the day Oliver had accepted Artemis’s offer to join the
group in order to retrieve an item they needed for his first assignment. In
hindsight, Oliver wished he’d gone along as well. He was curious what kind of
wonders he might discover inside.

He’d find out sooner or later, most
likely. Artemis ordered regular inspections of the vaults and their contents,
and most of the company’s files were kept in them as well. If Oliver got
through the stack he was working through quickly, perhaps he could make an
offer to run down to Santa Clara to pick up more in order to “further his
education.” And while he was down there, he could take a look around. Maybe
he’d find the Ark of the Covenant sitting on a shelf. There were probably
stranger things to be discovered there.