Gina
and Ray found me on the steps of my fortress, relaxing, petting Ulla.
"Looking
good, Ray."
"Yeah.
Kind of freaking me out, to be honest."
"Seriously?
Why?"
"It's
tempting to just rush right back over there, see what there is to mop
up. But..."
"Right.
Yeah, I get. Impossible to gauge the depth of the shit."
"So.
Ambrose. You guys play twenty questions?"
They
had; Ray sat down on the steps with me, Gina conjured up an armchair,
and they laid out what they'd figured. Which was: One of the
patients Ray worked with, and one of the ones he thought was the most
messed up, was there as a result of adulterants in their drugs.
Poison. Which could mean that Ambrose and company were feeding
people to the nightkind on purpose, whether or not they knew exactly
what they were doing.
"Seems
like a pretty big coincidence, us hitting both ends of their
operation", Ray mused.
"You're
assuming that there are only two ends," I shot back "for
all we know, they've got dozens of things going on. We don't know
how big this thing is."
Ray
went quiet, then, and spoke slowly "Well. I think we should
find out."
Gina
touched him on the arm gently "Ray, we're not in this to be
heroes."
"We're
in this to try and make things better, though, right? For us, sure,
but for others too."
I
remembered, then, that Ray was walking around with dreams of
salvation, born from a half-dozen people, and given personality. He
was stuffed with heroes, and he'd be waking up in a hospital bed.
I
turned to Gina "Whaddaya think? I hear it's good to have
goals."
The
look she gave me was exasperated. She held it for a few moments, and
then broke down laughing. "Okay, okay! You win, you two. At
least with Ben in, someone will make a basic attempt at being
sensible. Even if he is being an idiot right now."
I
looked at them, back and forth "So, we're the Anti-Kether team.
And we've been bankrolled by the enemy. When do we start
recruiting?"
They
both jumped, and considered it. It was Gina that answered, though
"At the shop. Totally."
I
let go of lucidity, and the dream faded away, then. It seemed
fitting.
...
In
the morning, there was a knock at the door. A wide yellow envelope
sat against the door when Gina opened it to answer. She picked it
up, kicked the door shut behind her, and wandered in.
"You
know, I'd like to sleep in a bed again, some night."
"A
couple more weeks, and if your reading stay stable, there won't be
much reason to stay in the chairs. Of course, by then, we'll
hopefully be moving to the shop. What's the delivery?"
"Hey,
pictures. Of... Oh, shit. Of us. Loading Ray into the car. At
the hospital, going in. Me throwing the rock. You coming out."
I
had walked over as she spoke, and stood with her, staring at the
pictures as she flipped through them. A scrap of notepaper fell out,
and I bent to pick it up.
"It's
a list of drugs and amounts; looks a lot like the ones we sold
Laurent. It's in his handwriting, and it says, at the bottom – three weeks." I looked over at Gina.
"Bastard
is blackmailing us; he wants us to do it again."
"Well.
A lot can happen, in three weeks."
