Episode 8

(New York, June 12, 1994)

[Authors Note: A few months have passed since the events of episodes 5-7.]

“Daryl was sitting on the bed with the same stupid look he always had when denied sex. Rin smacked him on the back of the head.

“Time to earn your keep.”

“You don’t pay me,” he noted.

Rin still could not tell when the boy was joking. Was that a swipe because she had rebuffed his amorous advances? She decided she didn’t really care and just proceeded to explain the situation.

The previous evening, Rin had received an important piece of news from one of her sources. Taken in isolation it would have seemed irrelevant, at best an interesting piece of trivia. This was why she drilled into her informants that they should report everything, however small. They were not to think, simply observe and at times intercede in minor ways of her own devising. Languages and customs changed but people did not. The same approach had proven itself in many different times and places.

Rin had been waiting on tenterhooks for this particular bit of information, and it was to her liking. This was the final piece in the puzzle, and she now was certain the woman was Vivvett. Though certainty wasn’t essential, it was nice to have. But before she could get to the fun part, she had a less enviable task. She had to brief Daryl.

She so far had deferred any meaningful discussion of herself or her mission, flagrantly evading his questions. Rin had no shortage of ways to distract or dissuade Daryl on the few occasions when he persisted. But now it was time. She wished it was over with. This was why dogs were better. They just did what you said. No troublesome explanations. She planted herself next to him.

“You probably figured this out, but there is a reason I’m not easy to kill. I have a purpose, and it is quite similar to your own.”

“To kill you?” Daryl asked, clearly puzzled.

From anyone else, Rin would have assumed this was sarcasm. She doubted Daryl even knew what sarcasm was, let alone could deploy it effectively in a foreign language. For all she knew, they didn’t even have such a thing in his native tongue. It amazed Rin how much of what people thought and felt derived from the idiosyncrasies of the language they happened to speak. Was she the same? The old language wasn’t very expressive, but she had become fluent in several others. She was unsure which of them informed her personality. Or perhaps her personality informed them. Wasn’t that the purpose of language — a tool to be honed to one’s will.

Rin shook her head. “The need to kill someone.”

Before Daryl could misinterpret even this simple sentence, she clarified her meaning. “I hunt and kill a certain set of people.”

“Why?” he asked.

It wasn’t the question she had expected. A soldier should ask how, not why. Rin felt it best to keep things simple. Neither she nor Daryl were equipped for too detailed a discussion right now. But she realized that day would come, at least if she kept him. Well, that would be later, and there would be time to prepare for it. Besides, maybe he would get himself killed and save her the trouble.

“The gods assigned me this purpose,” Rin explained.

Daryl looked skeptical. “Do they actually do that?”

“How the hell would I know?” Rin snapped. “All I know is they did with me.”

“But why you?”Well, Daryl, it probably was because of my incredible tolerance for stupid questions. Why did I get an overly-inquisitive pain-in-the-ass instead of the good old ‘yes sir, no sir’ type of soldier? Or even better, the ‘yes sir, yes sir’ kind. Let’s try for that.”

“You picked me,” Daryl noted.

With a sigh, Rin explained. “I owed the gods a debt. I took something from them which I should not have.”

“And they didn’t kill you?” Was Daryl mocking her, or were these real questions? Rin chose to assume they were.

“Well, they hired me instead. Just like I hired you instead of killing you. Only, they got a much better bargain. But then, they are gods, so their judgment obviously is a lot better than mine.”

“But why must you hunt them?”

“Because the gods told me to. I’ll give you some advice, Daryl. If the gods ask you to do something, you do it.”

“Even if they ask me to kill you?”

It was hard to tell whether Daryl was being argumentative or just inquisitive. Rin looked at him. “Do you need them to?”

Daryl shook his head, and she couldn’t help laughing. “Besides, you don’t even believe in the gods. Heck, you don’t even know which gods I’m talking about. You probably believe in all that Christian stuff.”

He shrugged. “I’m not religious.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said so far. Except for the part where you’re wrong. The gods do exist. Does that answer your question?”

“But why do the gods want you to hunt them?” Daryl repeated.

Rin was about to snap at him but stopped herself. To be her assistant, he would have to learn a few things. And teaching required patience. Rin groaned. This was why she never had students. This and the fact she never wanted any.

She decided she may as well be forthcoming. There was no point in denying Daryl key information. If he was to be of any use, she would have to stomach a few explanations. Besides, she had come to take such things for granted. It would be good to hear just how absurd they sounded when spoken aloud.

Rin took a deep breath. “The reason is similar to your own false one. I hunt people who do not belong in this world. You could say they are bad for it.” Before Daryl could ask another question, she signaled him to be quiet.

“All you need to know is that their existence is problematic. The existence of something which should not exist inevitably has consequences. The longer it remains, the worse for the world.”

Daryl frowned. “So you claim to be some sort of saviour?”

It took all of Rin’s self-control to keep from hitting him. “I claim to be nothing. I am stating the purpose which was given to me. Are you a saviour for following orders? You’re either a good soldier or you aren’t.”

Daryl thought about this a bit but gave no indication whether or not he agreed. Rin said nothing and waited for him to take the lead. Despite her distaste for dumb questions, it would be a lot easier to answer a series of them than devise a comprehensive explanation of her own. She always could fill in the gaps later, assuming he didn’t save her the trouble by getting killed.

“Who are they?” Daryl asked.

“I call the people I hunt Proteges. It is derived from an older term.”

“Protected?”

This took Rin by surprise, and she was impressed for a moment before realizing the word probably retained its original meaning in Daryl’s native language.

She nodded. “Precisely. I prefer that term to any other for reasons which will become apparent. Most actually call themselves immortals or something equally trite and inaccurate. In a sense, my purpose is to correct that misconception.”

“So they’re like you?” Daryl wondered.

Rin hesitated. If killing her was his goal, she didn’t want to dissuade him from trying. On the other hand, she preferred not to lie to him either.

“Well I suppose to your eye they might seem that way.” She smiled. “But not nearly as sexy.”

Daryl didn’t laugh. After a few moments of awkward silence, she looked at him.

“Don’t assume we’re the same.” It was perfect, a suitably vague disclaimer that he probably would ignore. And ignore it he did. To Rin’s relief he moved on to the obvious question.

“How do you kill them if they are immortal?”

Rin groaned. “This is why I hate the term immortal. Immortal can mean a million things. You are immortal, if you consider only the existence of the matter and energy of which are are comprised.”

“But I can die,” Daryl pointed out.

“Interrupt me again, and you very well may. The point is that it’s an ambiguous word. If someone never aged but could be killed in every other way, would you consider him immortal? Was Achilles immortal? He could only be killed by an arrow to the heel, and he was. What about Tithonus who could not be killed but did age? He ended up a shriveled old husk.”

“They existed?”

Rin rolled her eyes. “Of course not, you idiot. That’s why it’s called Greek mythology.”

“But you exist.”

“Well, I’m not Greek. Can we move on?”

“So can you kill these Proteges?”

“That depends. Each of them possesses a certain set of protections, hence the name. These keep bad things from happening to them, never mind how. I cannot break those protections. Nobody can.”

“Then why hunt them if you can’t kill them?” Daryl had such an earnest look of confusion on his face that Rin felt like smacking it. She took a deep breath.

“I didn’t say there was nothing I could do to them. And sometimes I can kill them. It may be possible to attack a Protege in a way he is not protected against. On occasion I even can use their own protections against them, but that is rare.”

“What about the ones you can’t kill? Do you just let them go?” Daryl asked.

Rin gave him a withering look. “No, Daryl. I don’t just let them go.” She sighed. “Look, killing them isn’t the point. Yes, it’s nice when it can be done. But it’s not necessary for my purposes. There are other things I can do, but those need not concern you for now. Suffice to say I can deal with the Proteges. But first I must find them.”

“Wouldn’t they be easy to find since they don’t die? They must stand out.”

“Have you heard of any?” Rin snapped. “So, no, they don’t stand out and it’s not easy. It takes time and finesse. I closely follow the news, look for unusual survivals, rises to power, the sorts of things that ordinary humans would have a difficult time accomplishing. Even so, most are false leads. It’s just statistics. Given enough humans, some will accomplish improbable things. But certain patterns defy statistics, and these draw my attention.”

“Statistics?”

Was Daryl worried he had signed up for some boring analytic job? He probably expected a high-octane military operation.

“That’s right, it’s all about statistics. To kill me, you’ll need at least a PhD from a top school. That’s why I avoid university campuses.” She gave a tight-lipped look. “You’ll probably want to get some help with the admission exam. Best of luck with that. I’ll be in touch in ten years.”

Daryl’s lost-puppy expression almost made her forget he was a seasoned killer. This could be a real asset for a man like that. She would have to find a use for it.

“I jest. Do you really think I would have taken you on if there was a need for firing synapses?”

“Firing at who?”

Rin cleared her throat. “Anyway, once I’ve located someone suitably suspicious, I move to their area. Then I hire locals to keep an eye on things.”

“Eye on things?”

“Spies,” Rin clarified impatiently. “They feed me more precise information. Sometimes it quickly becomes apparent that the person’s not a Protege, just some lucky or adroit human. If not, I run a series of tests.”

“Tests?” Daryl asked. It seemed like he just was parroting the last words of whatever she said. Wasn’t there some style of conversation where you were supposed to do that? Rin worried she would be driven to homicide if she didn’t make a strong effort to control herself.

“If it is just a lucky human, this is the point at which their luck runs out. I have my spies perform small tests to probe the person’s protections.”

In response to Daryl’s confused expression, she elaborated. “I begin with the obvious — a pin-prick in passing.”

“Can’t you just recognize them?” Daryl interrupted.

Was this an oblique reference to her own unrecognizability? She hadn’t told him about that yet, but he probably realized something was amiss during their recent reunion. Or did he actually know? Given that he had found her, nothing could be ruled out. She decided to assume it was a straightforward question, but the uncertainty grated on her.

“What makes you think I know them?” Rin barked, snapping her finger to make the point. “And even if I once did, I probably wouldn’t anymore. Would you recognize somebody you haven’t seen since childhood? Especially if they dress differently?”

“No,” Daryl agreed, “but that’s because they would be older. Do you know them from childhood?” Rin had to admit that the boy was astute, at least when it was inconvenient for him to be. Of course, that didn’t mean he was right. Just astute.

“I never said that,” she replied. “But let’s not worry about who I did or did not know. You are wrong about not recognizing them simply because they have aged. Your mind actually is pretty good at accounting for aging. Why do you think fugitives get caught after so long?”

“It’s much more basic than that,” she continued. “Our memory isn’t great or unlimited. For every new memory, an old one must be pushed out. It’s not that simple, of course. Each memory is distributed across the brain, and the process is more nebulous. Most ordinary people don’t notice anything until they get old, but for us it can be quite pronounced.”

“So you are like them.”

It both pleased and worried Rin that Daryl had been paying attention to the disclaimer.

“It’s a general comment about,” Rin grimaced, “immortals.” Daryl said nothing.

“The point is that our brains are finite. They lack the capacity for infinite memory. The precise consequence depends on the level of neuroplasticity associated with the particular form of immortality involved.”

“Are you a doctor?” Daryl wondered with a tinge of surprise. “You seem to know some unusual things.”

“I like to keep abreast of scientific developments. In my role, it behooves me. Besides, I find it interesting. Learning is the one thing that never grows old. Or at least it hasn’t so far.”

“You don’t grow old,” Daryl observed.

Realizing that her voice had grown taut with enthusiasm, Rin cleared her throat. “That’s an assumption. I said the Proteges don’t grow old. I’ve told you nothing about myself. You just assume the same rules apply.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that this would have to be addressed sooner rather than later. He would learn the difference eventually, and then it would create a rift between teacher and student. Rin knew what must come of such a thing and didn’t relish the idea. She could cure it easily enough but didn’t relish that idea either. At least not yet. She would have to think of a strategy to inform Daryl without losing him. But not now.

“We’re going too far afield. The details are unimportant for the task at hand. Suffice to say that I most likely would not recognize a Protege.”

“Do you at least know …” Daryl began, but Rin cut him off.

“What matters is not what I know, but what you need to know. And you need to know that neither the Proteges nor I have perfect memories.”

This wasn’t entirely true. Rin recalled the only Protege with a photographic memory she’d ever met. Rather than wait his turn, he had sought her out. Of all the pleas she had heard over the years, his was the only to move her. It als helped that he was asking her to do what she planned to anyway. Rin always wondered why it had been so hard for him. Was it the prospective loss or the mere knowledge of it?

Looking around the drab apartment, Rin wondered whether this would have been another perfect image to him. What precious memory would it have supplanted in his eternal but finite mind? His body was immutable but he was not. Time would evolve him into someone completely different. Over and over again. Thanks to her tender mercies, that never would happen. His memories were eternally preserved in an amber of sorts, along with the rest of him.

Rin had concluded that she was no different in this regard, but the form it took was less obvious. Even she could not discern its precise mechanism. Perhaps many things faded a little at a time, and the loss never felt acute. Or maybe some things were sacrosanct and indelible, leaving less space for the new. If enough such memories accumulated, would she one day devolve into a permanent anterograde amnesia?

That Protege had done the rarest of things to Rin: he had changed her. She understood, perhaps for the first time, that for all their protections, the Proteges were very mortal, constantly dying and being reborn every moment of every day. Only their shells were unchanged.

She alone was different, though she was not quite sure how. Sometimes it felt like there was no difference at all. But perhaps that was what it meant to be her. How could she perceive herself from outside herself? That would require something greater than her, something encompassing. There could be only one such thing, and between her and it there remained an insurmountable barrier.

None of this made any difference to her mission, of course — that was informed by the gods—but it did instill some small degree of sympathy for those she hunted. Sympathy but not empathy, for how could she empathize with those of a different station. The gap between her and them was no less than between the gods and herself. Well, perhaps that was a conceit. But it was big.

Rin realized from Daryl’s expression that her reverie must have lasted some time. In a tone of impatient pedagogy, she reiterated her point.

“The point is that my memory is like yours. Just imagine that more time has passed. A lot more time.”

“How old are you?” Daryl blurted out without warning.

“Well that’s a tactless question to ask a woman,” Rin pouted. “You don’t have much luck with the ladies, do you?” She very much doubted this was true. “If you must know, older than some, younger than … well, nobody.” It wasn’t strictly true, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, she liked the way it sounded.

She smiled at him. “There, you’ve learned two important things that may help you kill me.”

“I’m now sure how …”

Rin gave a wry grin. “Well, I’m not going to do your job for you.”