In the small cabin on the Exeter, Ryan looked at the beautiful elven face on the telecom screen. Nadja Daviar. The gray metal room was an oppressive monochrome around him. "I'm just a little disoriented," he said. "It's been a rough day."
"Well, it's not over yet," she said. "You must get here as fast as possible. Jane's team will fly you to Lima, where you'll all catch a suborbital to Seattle. There, Jane's group will take you to their compound, and I'll have transportation waiting for you there."
And as she spoke, a spark of recognition flared inside Ryan. Something about her inflection or the way the corner of her mouth moved. The one endearing flaw in her otherwise perfect body. He couldn't quite pin down what it was.
"The whole trip shouldn't take more than four or five hours," she said. "I'll see you tonight."
"Good."
"Yeah, I have to make sure that all this nuyen I'm spending to get you out hasn't gone to waste. Nothing personal."
"Of course not," Ryan said. Nadja seemed guarded about something. Is she nervous about seeing me? he thought. Perhaps.
"See you later then," she said, but did not disconnect.
"Goodbye, Nadja," said Ryan, then cut the line.
Axler stepped in next to Ryan. "We've got to roll," she said. "Now." And she rushed him back up top and into a waiting helo-a big, double-rotored kind that flew them south across the water toward Peru.
The next four hours went exactly as Nadja had described. A suborbital jet awaited them on the tarmac when they landed in Lima. The logo emblazoned on the fuselage proclaimed it to be owned by Gavilan Industries, and they were the only passengers. Ryan wondered how Nadja or Jane had arranged that.
The flight to Seattle passed quickly. Ryan thought about Father-Roxborough's father actually. He remembered the large man, his red beard and balding pate. Father had been a moderately successful entrepreneur, and young Thomas Roxborough rarely saw him while his mother was alive. It was only after she'd died in a terrorist bombing in London that Father had taken an interest in shaping his son's life.
Ryan remembered one time when Father had promised to take him to an Arsenal football match at Highbury Stadium. Little Tommy Roxborough had been looking forward to seeing his favorite team play. A real live match! He'd been waiting for weeks in anticipation. Father said all he had to do was complete his programming homework, which he did brilliantly.
But something had come up at Father's work, an important meeting with the execs of another corp, Ryan couldn't remember which, and the promised match passed without Roxborough. Father had told him later that his meeting had made them over a million nuyen. Business, Father had said, was always more important.
It wasn't until years later that Roxborough truly understood what he had meant. Roxborough had been in the final stages of foreclosing on Tennessee Nitro Technologies-a company that owed him a sizable chunk of nuyen-when he learned that Father was in the hospital, dying of VITAS- Virally Induced Toxic Allergy Syndrome. Roxborough couldn't pass up his opportunity to destroy the company and put millions into his account. Timing was crucial.
He decided to postpone his visit to Father in the hospital.
Father died before he made his visit. But Roxborough was sure Father understood, even in those final moments, that his son had his priorities straight. Roxborough knew Father would be proud. He threw a fantastic funeral for Father. All the important people came.
Now, the suborbital shuttle was landing in Seattle. Ryan stretched and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that draped over his body like a blanket of shivers.
The postures of Axler, Grind, McFaren, and Dhin relaxed
somewhat after they stepped off the suborbital and onto the concrete of SeaTac airport. This was close to their home turf. They obviously felt much more safe and secure here, though as Ryan looked around, he got the sense that Seattle could be extremely dangerous.
A small jet took them to the compound, which Axler called Assets, Incorporated. It was a small airstrip in Salish Shidhe, the Indian nation that covered land previously known as Washington, Idaho, and British Colombia. Assets, Inc. lay hidden in the mountains above Hells Canyon, and Ryan gathered that it served as Axler and Company's base of operations.
The compound was bounded on one side by a sheer rock face that stretched up into the sky, and on the other by a precipice-a steep cliff face that fell into the canyon, over a kilometer to the bottom where the Snake River wound its way, a narrow, green ribbon in the distance below. The perimeter of Assets, Inc. was fenced, and there was a corrugated steel warehouse of some sort, but Ryan didn't get time to inspect either. He was ushered straight into another jet, larger and more luxurious this time, complete with its own pilot and security guards.
Axler had grown even colder toward him as their mission had come to an end. Jane had paid them through a deposit in their Zurich Orbital account, and Axler was all business. Grind and McFaren shook Ryan's hand just before he stepped aboard, but Axler simply said, "Good luck," in her ultra-chill way, as if from a great emotional distance. Then she'd turned her back on him.
Biz completed. No attachments desired.
The security guards took position in the rear of the jet and Ryan was left alone in the plush cabin. Luxury and loneliness enveloping him.
Still there was some hope as the jet flew him out. They were taking him to meet Nadja, the woman who might have some answers about his past. A woman who he knew, but didn't remember. What was his relationship with her? He'd find out soon enough.
They flew north, and Ryan learned that they were going to Dunkelzahn's lair in Lake Louise-a dragon's lair. The rigger pilot knew him. Her name was Barb-a sleek-looking
elf with brown locks that hung to her nicely shaped behind. She told him that he worked with Black Angel and Dunkelzahn, that he was "jacked in" with the higher-ups.
So I work for a fragging dragon, he thought. It's all becoming perfectly clear… Not!
Ryan finally decided just to see what happened. It would all come back when he was least expecting it. He sat back in his seat and tried to relax by looking out the window at the passing landscape. The peaks of the Canadian Rocky Mountains stood majestic and raw, speaking to Ryan in a primal language as he gazed out the window. The ancient stone at once forbidding and enticing.
The plane landed on a short airstrip built on a high plain between two peaks. The sun reflected a blinding white off the snow-covered glaciers; the silver-blue glass buildings lower on the slope of the mountains sparkled like cut gems. It was awe-inspiring. Stark and beautiful.
She stood on the cold runway waiting for him to disembark. She was surrounded by guards, her black hair blowing wildly in the chill wind. He wrapped the coat they'd given him tighter around his body and stepped down the short staircase to meet her. Up close, he sensed that she was a very powerful woman. Confidence and poise radiated from her presence. From the sureness of her stance. The way she stood was inviting in a conspiratorial way, yet held a solid immutability. She would listen, but she would make the final decisions.
As Ryan set foot in front of her, that manner all but melted. She stood slightly taller, but her frame was insubstantial compared to his. She looked down at him with wet eyes. Then she smiled. Broad and genuine. He could see the desire in her expression, smell it on her. And he wasn't surprised when he felt a reciprocal desire for her. She was extremely attractive.
"You've changed," she said.
Ryan nodded. "Yes. I can't remember much about who I was."
"I'm so sorry, Ryan." And as she reached to put her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace he realized he'd been longing for, he felt a spark of familiarity. The details of the moment coalesced into a whole, the many tiny
individualities coming together to remind him of a time before.
They had known each other; they had embraced like this before. But it had been a parting embrace, and they had both been coldly resolved to accept it. The smell of her, so close to him now, brought the emotions cascading back, confusing and disconnected from memory.
An image came into his mind of the sun, peeking over the flat, cobalt blue surface of the ocean. The memory. The sky was a watercolor of yellow and pink from the dawn. The air was warm, the tiny cove empty as Ryan stood and stared out across the ocean.
She had come up behind him, putting her arms under his, wrapping them around his chest. Nuzzling him with her nose against the side of his neck. A shiver passed through him, an electric shock from her touch. But already he was clamping down on his emotions. Already he was forming the inner fortress that was necessary for his continued survival, his continued devotion to Dunkelzahn.
/ must be an island, he told himself.
He didn't look at her. "Black Angel called," he said. "I've got a mission." Her hands went slack. "I'm sorry," he sad. "I don't…"
Her voice was flat, almost a monotone whisper. "I thought we had two weeks," she said. "Yes, but-"
Her voice rising as she spoke. "They promised us two fragging weeks!" She let go, and he turned finally.
Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, over the loose cotton robe that was blowing in the morning breeze. Her hair, recently disheveled from sleep, flying about her. The heat of her anger flushing her white skin.
She is the most beautiful thing in the world, he thought. But I cannot let myself love her.
I will not!
She saw what he was thinking. They had talked about this; they had been worried that this might happen. He wanted to go to her now and hold her, more than anything he had ever wanted to do for himself. But he didn't work for himself. He
worked for Dunkelzahn, and love did not fit in with that work. It got in the way.
On an assignment, he couldn't be responsible for anyone besides himself. He didn't want anyone to care about him; he just wanted to complete his mission. That was all that mattered. That was everything.
"When do you leave?" she asked.
"Ten o'clock."
"Then you'd better get packed," she said. "Join me in the cafe if you have time for breakfast." Then she turned and walked away in silence.
Now on the airstrip, Ryan held her tightly. He didn't want to release her; he clutched her close, his only tie to a past that seemed to be his own. He put his head in the hollow of her neck, and was surprised to find himself shaking from the power of holding her.
Too soon, she released him. "We must hurry," she said. She took his arm and escorted him across the tarmac to a low concrete building. "We've got to get you into the lair's protective circle. I suspect they'll try to find you by ritual magic. The lair should hide you from them."
Ryan nodded, and allowed himself to be led. The circle of guards closed ranks around them as they approached, then entered the steel doors of the building, moving through blue-tiled hallways and taking an elevator down into the mountain. Nadja submitted to a retinal scan in order to allow the elevator access to the lowest level.
And when the elevator came to a stop, deep inside the mountain, when the double doors opened, a tall elven woman waited in the center of a hewn stone corridor. Her skin was dark brown in stark contrast to her white hair, which she had pulled back into a tight ponytail so that it followed the sharp line of her skull. She smiled broadly when she saw Ryan, obvious relief on her face.
"Quicksilver," she said. "Good to see you back in one piece."
Ryan couldn't help but smile. "It's good to be back," he said. "I think."
She puzzled over that for a second. Then she went on, "Dunkelzahn left some instructions for you," she said. "I've put them inside the chamber. Let me know if I can help."
Nadja pulled on Ryan's arm. "We've got to go," she said. "Their mages could get to you even here."
He followed Nadja down the corridor and into a huge vaulted chamber. A silver statue of a dragon stood at the very center. "We're going to seal you in here," she said. "The walls are layered with a fine weave of enchanted orichalcum and a layer of elemental earth. Plus who knows what protections Dunkelzahn had."
"Where is Dunkelzahn?"
Nadja stopped abruptly and faced him. "You don't know?" "Know what?"
She paused; whatever she was about to say was serious. "Dunkelzahn is dead."
"What?" Ryan was surprised. How could a great dragon be dead?
"He was killed."
Ryan knew the news should have done more than surprise him; it should have shocked him. It should have reached into the very core of his spirit and shattered it. Should have devastated him. He knew this by Nadja's delivery, by the myriad clues he'd picked up about his relationship to this creature- Dunkelzahn. He and the dragon had some sort of special connection, a bond that went beyond normal social interaction. He had loved Dunkelzahn.
But now, he felt nothing at the news of the dragon's demise. He did not feel remorse or anguish. He did not feel relief or joy or sadness.
He did not feel at all.
"An explosion in Washington…" Nadja trailed off. "Four days ago, just after the inauguration. I can give you the details later. Plus, I'd like to discuss the phone conversation you had with him just before he left the party."
"I don't remember it," Ryan said.
"There might be some things we can do to help you with that," she said. "But now I think we should seal up the chamber. You'll be safe in here."
"When will I be able to come out?"
"When our mages have detected a ritual sending. I have to return to Washington tomorrow for the reading of Dunkelzahn's Will. If your mission parameters allow it, maybe you'd like to come with me for a few days?"
"I think I'd like that," he said, and he wasn't at all surprised to find that he spoke the words in all sincerity.
She smiled. "Goodbye for now, then." She leaned to hug him, but he pulled her into a more intimate embrace, moving his face close to hers. She turned to look into his eyes, her lips brushing across his cheek. He kissed her, pressing his lips against hers. She fell into it willingly, parting her mouth slightly. Relishing the momentary intimacy.
The moment passed too quickly, and Nadja pulled away, trying to maintain her air of dignity and control with the guards looking on. Ryan got the feeling that this public display was uncharacteristic of his past self. Then she was gone, and the thick stone door swung closed, filling the large opening with a grinding crash. He was sealed inside.
Ryan concentrated to focus himself. He felt he was on the verge of remembering who he was, on the edge of beginning the long slide into himself. Maybe Dunkelzahn's last message to him would provide the final push. The dragon had obviously been important to him.
Ryan walked to the center of the chamber and stood next to the dragon sculpture. It was bright silver and looked almost liquid in the chamber's light. Nearly Ryan's size, it stood on its hind legs, head extended toward the ceiling, mouth open as if to breathe fire, tail arcing left behind it. At first Ryan thought it was a statue of Dunkelzahn, but up close, he realized that it couldn't be. Unlike Dunkelzahn, the dragon in the sculpture had no forelegs, only wings.
Ryan instinctively reached up to touch the statue. The metal felt surprisingly warm, and as his hand brushed the surface, a form flickered into existence, a spirit trapped inside the sculpture. The shining platinum surface rippled from the spirit's motions, almost seeming to move the statue.
"Ryanthusar," came the spirit's deep voice. It was a tone and tenor that Ryan found disturbing. Like a ghost's voice. "Listen carefully, my servant. This next mission is the most important I have ever entrusted to you…"