Again, she let her hands be her answer.
Part III
Deluge
Then they gathered the Kings together to the place called Armageddon.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Grand Marq was one of the finest and most exclusive hotels in the world. Its triplet towers stood a mere pair of blocks from the Olympic area that dominated the epicenter of the city. To passersby, the Grand Marq’s three reflective spires shone like beacons in the desert sunshine, rising daggerlike into the sky and tapering to points somewhere just beneath the feet of God.
Catering exclusively to high-class clientele, the Marq was designed to get attention: this was shock-and-awe luxury at its finest. Prices started at don’t even ask. The staff worked hard to see that every amenity was available to its guests. But to a man like Silas, who had spent early childhood at the edge waters of the Mississippi, where you sometimes couldn’t tell the end of the swamp from the beginning of the river, and where the people sometimes actually
But this was not to say that Silas wouldn’t take full advantage of the facilities. Even when you could afford to do so, there was a big difference between buying a neural relaxer and using one if it was made available for free. Or so he told himself again as he lay back on the cushions.
He let the technician drone on and on about how the “toxins” were being leached from his muscle tissues. It was funny to him how dependent most of this post-new-age bullshit seemed to be on that particular buzzword.
“Please be quiet,” Silas said when the blond technician began talking about the wonders of deep-tissue emulsification. He didn’t want to be rude, but he couldn’t force himself to listen to a single second more of her ridiculous pseudo-medical jargon.
But there was nothing pseudo about the buzz. That came on quick and strong. There was no disorientation, no feeling of drunkenness. Just warmth, contentment. He reminded himself to tell Vidonia about this later. She’d love it.
He floated.
“You have a call, Dr. Williams,” the blonde said.
Silas opened his eyes and saw her holding a small videophone out to him. He hadn’t even heard it ring. When he took it, Ben’s face considered him from the little screen, a line of empty cages sprawling away behind him. He was in the catacombs beneath the arena, and he didn’t look happy.
“Yeah,” Silas said.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I really need you to come down here.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to explain over the phone.”
“Why?”
“We need a secure line.”
“Just a hint, then?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“That’s a hint?”
“It’s all the hint you’re getting. Trust me, when you get here, you’ll understand.”
“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Silas closed the receiver and began plucking off the wires that crisscrossed his arms and legs.
“You shouldn’t do that,” the blonde said, and her look of alarm made her face almost comical. “You need a cool-down period first. There can be problems. The cleansing of your tissues is only partially complete.”
“Sorry, I guess my tissues will have to be a little dirty.”
The elevator seemed to take an eternity as it descended, picking up several groups of passengers in its drop to the lobby. It became immediately clear upon his exit to the street that it would be quicker for him to walk the two blocks than to take a cab. Traffic was gridlocked. Somewhere amid his struggle through the humanity-clogged sidewalks, his headache began. It was subtle at first but gathered force as he walked.
Here and there a face would show a flash of recognition when glancing up at him. A few people pointed. But for the most part, he wasn’t noticed, just a tall man with a pained expression. By the time he reached the arena, the headache was like no other he had ever experienced.
He flashed his badge to the guards, and they let him through. At the elevator he inserted his passkey into the console and pushed B3. Descent again, but this time the motion made him reel with pain. The doors opened, and he followed the dark cement corridor for twenty meters before stepping down a side hall. The familiar zoo smells came again, and if it was possible, his head hurt worse.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Ben whispered, when he saw Silas’s face.
Silas hadn’t realized it was that obvious. “Toxins,” he said.
Ben gave him an incredulous look.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me what was so important that you dragged me down here like this. And why are you whispering?”
Silas followed Ben’s gaze through the bars to their gladiator. Inside the small enclosure, it looked even bigger than usual, a shining black monster. There was no other word for it.
Its head almost touched the ceiling as it hulked in the back against the iron wall. Two members of their handling crew stood off to the side, arms folded across their chests.
Ben put a hand on Silas’s shoulder and turned his back to the cage, leading them away.
“I think the gladiator can understand what we say,” he said, voice low and soft.
“You think it understands English?”
“Yeah, Silas, I do. I really do.”
“How?”
“I guess it must have picked it up over months of listening to us talk around it. We should have been more careful. We—”
“No, I mean, how do you know it can understand us? Maybe you’re confusing some sort of Pavlovian conditioning for comprehension. Even untrained dogs can learn to associate sounds with food.”
“This isn’t some ringing bell I’m talking about. This thing
“How do you know?”
“Watch,” Ben said. He turned and walked back to the men standing by the cage. They were young interns from the eastern district cytology schools, and they shared the same sandblasted expression of shock on their
