Episode 103

(San Bernardino, September 13, 2019)

Rin put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my, you’re the hunter? Now I don’t feel so safe.”

“Can we dispense with this nonsense? We all know it’s you.”

Finn quietly slid to the opposite end of the couch. “I didn’t.”

“Well, you would be the last to,” Rin observed.

Alana realized she had only moments before a decision would be required. She had to decipher what was going on. Rin wasn’t worried about confronting two Eights, so she either was confident in their goodwill or must have managed to increase her own protections somehow. This alone wouldn’t pose a threat. Even the highest number couldn’t bully an Eight in any meaningful way, and destroying an Eight was well-nigh impossible. Additional protections would just address extreme cases and reassure the emotionally insecure. If a high enough number could destroy an Eight, then Rin would be dangerous even as a Four. She could just craft a high-numbered immortal and have them do the deed. Since that wasn’t the case, any threats to an Eight would have to come from outside.

No, she was missing something crucial. If Rin had changed her number, the danger lay not with her new number itself but in the very fact that she could do so. It would mean that more was possible than previously had been guessed. For an immortal secure in her invulnerability, ‘more’ could only be bad. All bets would be off. Maybe Rin could remove the protections she had granted.

If, as Rin had implied and Alana had good reason to believe, some Eights had actually been destroyed, who else could do it? If there was a hunter, it had to be Rin. And now she was sitting here, in striking distance of both of them. Alana cursed her own stupidity. How had she allowed the woman to get so close? There was only one hope.

“I’ll hold you to your word.” Alana declared.

“My word?” Rin seemed puzzled.

“You said you would not harm either of us.”

Rin grinned. “Today.”

“Even so.”

Rin exhaled and slumped back on the couch, withdrawing her arm from Alana’s shoulder. “I wasn’t lying. I am not here to destroy either of you. One day I will, but not today.”

“Then why are you here,” Alana demanded, all too conscious of the importance of not antagonizing Rin, yet unable to restrain herself.

“I need your help.”

Neither Finn nor Alana could conceal their surprise. After a few moments, Finn finally spoke.

“You want us to help you kill other immortals?” There was a mix of indignation and excitement in his voice.

“Of course not. I can do that on my own. In fact, I’m the only one who can do it. Though, Karkov could probably manage you two.”

“Karkov? Who the hell is Karkov?” Alana asked.

Rin told them his real name and explained that he was a Sixteen.

“We knew what he was,” Alana barked. “Everyone knew. Why the hell you made him a Sixteen is beyond comprehension. But you’re still only a Four.”

“We both know that I’m not a Four,” Rin quietly replied. “I thought that much was obvious from my unrecognizability.”

“Even so,” Alana began, before falling silent.

Finn failed to notice his sister’s trembling hand, and gave Rin a haughty look. “So what? Even if you’ve added a few protections, what makes you think you can take us?”

A sharp glance from Alana shut him up. Rin simply smiled, as if indulging children.

After a few moments, Alana broke the silence. This time her question was quiet and deliberate. “You plan to kill Karkov too?”

Before Rin could reply, Finn interrupted, oblivious to Alana’s pleading look. “How? He’s a Sixteen. How could you possibly kill him? How could anybody kill him?”

“I won’t kill him,” Rin patiently explained, much to Alana’s relief. “I can’t kill any of the high numbers, as you’ve probably guessed. I do something else to you. But you’re right, he won’t be easy. My usual methods may succeed, but it’s also possible they won’t. If not, I have an idea — but it won’t work yet.”

Alana wondered how Finn could be so observant at times, yet so stupid at others. Or maybe he had a keener eye than she gave him credit for. After all, Rin didn’t seem upset and did answer.

She even proceeded to elaborate, apparently eager to share the secret. “Knowing won’t help him, but I’ll still have you both sworn to silence.”

Finn was about to speak, but Rin gave him a sour look and he refrained. “The Verricran oath,” she added.

“You didn’t swear one to us, when we agreed to come in,” Alana objected.

“You didn’t ask. I’m not to blame for your oversight.” In response to Alana’s sudden look of concern, Rin added, “but I plan to honor my promise anyway. I really do not intend to harm you today. How many times do I need to explain this?”

Neither Alana nor Finn said a word, and Rin laughed. “Come now, do you wish to know or not?”

Alana smiled. “Sure, I’ll swear. Finn, you swear it too. We’ll swear any silly oath you want. Do you really think we care about some ancient custom? Our oath would buy you nothing.”

“This coming from the head priestess? You’re telling me that your words in front of the gods do not matter, even when those same gods made you what you are?” She smirked. “No, I suppose that was me.”

“They made me what I am, long before your artifices.” Alana retorted. “That was far the greater work; you just hardened the shell. If I didn’t care then, why would I care now?”

“Same hypocrite as always, I see.” Rin frowned. “It really was quite a difficult piece of work, I’ll have you know. It’s hard being unappreciated.”

“Call it what you will,” Alana replied defiantly.

After a few moments, Rin smiled. “You’re right. It would have been a foolish idea. Such an oath could only create false confidence. I thank you for being forthright. Your hypocrisy is less hypocritical than most people’s honesty. I’ll ask you to keep quiet about this but will not try to bind you with meaningless oaths.”

“You clearly want to tell us, anyway,” Alana observed.

Rin smiled. “You’ve got me there. And yes, I’m singularly proud of this one.” She paused dramatically for a moment. “I’m going to drop him into a black hole.”

The couple stared at her in disbelief for a few moments. Then Finn rolled his eyes. “I thought it would be something elegantly brilliant. That’s just stupid.”

“Is it? If I drop him in, his protections will be of no avail.”

“You told me some of his protections once,” Alana began.

“Yes, we were like sisters, you and I,” Rin beamed, clapping her hands together. “Which means you were fucking your sibling back then too.”

“I thought you said something about a protection against being trapped,” Alana continued, ignoring the provocation.

Rin nodded. “Good memory! You’re not nearly as senile as you look.”

Alana rolled her eyes.

“Falling is not the same as being trapped,” Rin explained. “Falling may land you in a trap, but the act itself is not a trap. He will fall toward the event horizon. To us, it will take the lifetime of the universe for him to fall in. To him, it will take minutes. He will see the universe pass at a breakneck pace, but he never will be more than an observer. When he reaches the black hole, it will trap him. This means his protection will allow him to escape of course, for no trap can hold him. But he will escape just in time to see the world ending. It is crueler than some things I have done, but less cruel than others. He has a few other protections which could come into play as well, but those won’t help him either.” She sat up and smiled proudly. “See, I’ve carefully considered all angles.”

Alana was tempted to offer some words of approval. Old habits did die hard. Instead, she adopted a tart expression. “How the hell will you get him to a black hole? Do those things even exist?”

Despite her irritation at the sheer stupidity of the idea, she felt a palpable sense of relief. If Rin really was this ridiculous, her fangs would have no venom. Perhaps she and Finn were safe, after all.

“That sounds like the type of harebrained scheme my brother would propose,” she added.

Finn shot his sister a dirty look.

Rin shrugged. “The technology to get him to one does not yet exist, but perhaps it will one day. That is the lovely thing about our protections. They were chosen in a time when the threats were limited, and our imaginations correspondingly were too. If I cannot find a way to destroy somebody now, I need only wait a few hundred years. Who knows what possibilities will have emerged?”

“I hate to point this out,” Finn said, “but you could suffer the same fate.”

Rin put her hands to her face. “How romantic, to be buried with my hubbie. But, sadly, no. I cannot be encumbered that way.”

“Encumbered?” Finn asked.

Rin waved impatiently. “It’s what I call destroying people like you. I can’t kill most Proteges, so I encumber them in various ways.”

Alana and Finn both grew attentive, but Rin said no more on the subject.

“Why are you telling us this?” Alana asked after some time.

“I may want your help with that project at some point,” Rin replied.

Alana was about to refuse, but suddenly realized the implication of Rin’s answer and remained quiet. They would be safe until then. Or as safe as they could be while at the mercy of the only woman Alana had ever feared — even as a Four.

After a few moments of consideration, Alana spoke. “You would do that to your own husband? It just seems so cruel.”

“Oh, but it gets even better.” Rin leaned toward her. “More proof that the universe hates us. You do know that I gave my most perfect gifts to those I loved most?”

Finn looked at her. “Really?”

Rin gave him a sidelong glance. “Mostly.” After a moment, she continued. “The greater the protections and the more perfect my craft back then, the fewer ways I now have to encumber the person. Those on whom I bestowed my greatest blessing are those for whom a merciful solution is most difficult to find. For someone like Karkov, it may actually be impossible.”

“You don’t seem too broken up about it,” Finn pointed out.

Rin gave him a cold look. “The gods have no right to arrogate that choice to themselves. I should be the one to decide. You see, I do feel somewhat responsible. I created you all, and you should not suffer just because I favored you.” She smiled at Alana. “Even if you richly deserve it.”

The import of all this was not lost on Alana. What would happen when their turn came? Nonetheless, she sensed Rin’s sadness, the tragedy of her purpose. It seemed like a good opportunity to curry favor.

“Well, I suppose in your husband’s case, the bastard really does have it coming. We all heard tales of what he did.”

“But you never felt the need to investigate or, oh say, rescue me?”

Alana’s turned red. “I… we all thought you were dead. Even if we hadn’t, we would have had no idea where to find you. And things quickly grew difficult in other ways. The king changed after you disappeared. Nobody was safe, and we all feared what he could do.”

“If that were true, why do you now seem so certain that a Sixteen could not harm you? As you said, you knew what he was.”

“Why do you think we don’t fear him? Maybe that’s why we were, as you put it, skittish.”

“He’s not a woman,” Rin pointed out. “You knew I was a woman and were nonetheless skittish.”

“You made him a sixteen, so you could have made others later on,” Alana countered. “It’s quite reasonable to fear someone with twice the protections.”

Rin smiled. “Only for a true coward. No, I don’t think you fear him or anyone except me.”

Alana was about to say something, but Rin smiled and added, “And rightly so.”

Finn had remained quiet so far but now spoke up. “You’re being unfair. Alana would have …”

Rin cut him off, still addressing Alana. “If you had wished to learn the truth of it, you easily could have done so. No, I think you were relieved. No more Proteges would be made, and you needn’t fear whatever still-unknown talents I may have had. After all, one who could craft immortals could probably do other things too.”

She leaned over and whispered in Alana’s ear. “Maybe he just beat you to it. Were you disappointed that you didn’t get to kill me yourself?”

“Believe what you will,” Alana grumbled, more than a little offended or maybe just flustered. Rin had impolitely reminded her of her own humiliation. It was one of the few times she had allowed herself to be deceived, and for it to be by that idiot Karkov made the whole thing even worse. Of course, her own resentment must be a pale shadow of Rin’s. She was the true victim, but Alana still bristled at the memory of the time when Eights, herself included, had feared a Sixteen. Was she deluding herself now? Why had they feared him back then? He had pretended to have the power to undo their protections, but everyone knew this was a lie — or at least an unverified truth. Maybe it was just human nature, for mortals and immortals alike. The man with a million protections feared the man with a million and one. There was a certain indignity in being subject to such primitive compulsions.

She looked up. “Is that why you are destroying us? Revenge?”

“It would be justified,” Rin replied. “But no, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” Finn demanded indelicately.

Rin turned to him with a look of annoyance. “There is a reason.”

She smiled at the couple. “But don’t worry, it’s nothing personal.”