A note concerning Grey (Project: Lodestar 2)

The parlor was tasteful, assuming you didn’t have to spend any time in it. The room was designed to subtly unnerve its occupants. To start, it was four inches off square, the floor rose two inches from east to west, and the ceiling dropped three inches from north to south. All of the paintings and tapestries on the walls were hung almost imperceptibly askew and asymmetrically to one another. The focal point of the art was a series of three paintings over the barely un-level mantel. All were of the same size, but were not hung equidistant from one another, with the left most being closer to the center by just enough to catch the eye. The furniture, though appearing normal, was in fact slightly closer to the ground than one would expect, and although initially very inviting, was just hard enough to ensure that no one could sit in the same position for any length of time and still be comfortable. The floor was specially treated to be just tacky enough to affect the tread of the foot without seeming sticky.

It was an utterly trying room and Cassandra hated it. She stood in the corner and stared out the window while she waited. The glass of course was just impure enough to soften the edges of anything seen through it. A door whispered open and a tall thin man announced, “The Master will see you now.”

“Thank the stars.” Cassandra eagerly followed him out of the room. It took her a moment, but she eventually realized that even the butler was walking arrhythmically. She grabbed his sleeve, “Knock it off would you? I’m not in the mood for Grey’s bullshit.” He ignored her. It was a short walk to the double mahogany doors of the study. The butler announced her presence and then silently excused himself. “Grey, why do you always make me wait in that wretched room?”

“It’s a parlor, Cassandra, that’s what it’s for.” Grey was seated behind a heavy teak desk. He dimmed the desk lamp and leaned back into his chair. “How was Vermont?”

“Like you really need to ask.”

“I’m just being polite.”

“You’re being smug.” One of Grey’s smiles was very subtle, just the slightest turning of the lips, a miniscule bunching of the cheeks. It barely touched the corners of his eyes. It was a very infuriating smile. He employed it now. “Always with your games. It’s a wonder anyone can tolerate you.”

“You keep coming back.” More of the smile.

“Yeah well, I knew you long before you were like this.” She paused for a moment and sat down. She looked at her feet. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you were right about Gabriel.”

“Seriously, how did it go?”

“I hit him.”

“Did that improve the situation any?”

“No, just made me feel worse.” She leaned forward, hands on her knees. “It’s like he’s an entirely different person. I brought up Ansel anyway, but that didn’t help much either.”

“I believe I said something to that effect before you went.”

“I already admitted you were right. Just say ‘I told you so’ and get it out of your system.”

The smile left and was replaced by a more genuine look sadness. “This time though, it would have been nice to be wrong. Did you get to see Kyler?” Everything about him radiated sincerity. His face, his tone, even his eyes were cast with concern.

Cassandra wanted to believe it was true, but a tiny part of her was hesitant. Grey was the only person she had ever met who could lie so convincingly that not even she could tell. “No, things rather fell apart before we got to that point. She’s not dead, but I’m guessing she hasn’t improved.” She sighed

“Of course.” Grey removed his steel framed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even I find this Ansel business hard to swallow, Cassandra. I know how accurate you can be, but I’ve found nothing to confirm your statement. Not a single piece of information has surfaced in any of my networks.”

“Please keep looking.”

“I will for now, but there’s only so long I can commit my resources in such a fashion.”

“There is a way we can be sure about this.”

“I will not reveal to you the location of Ansel’s tomb. Neither will Valentine.” Cassandra began to speak and Grey held up a hand. “No. Dream or no dream it’s too risky.”

“Fine. Let’s hope this isn’t something you’re going to regret.”

“Yes, let’s. What’s your next course?”

“Gabriel said I should talk to Ridley or Arsiel. It’s not a bad idea. Do you know where they are?” Grey made a show of flipping through a ledger. Nothing in the ledger was true, Grey kept everything of importance in his mind and he had an infallible memory. The act was unnecessary, his study was utterly secure, but Grey’s cleaving to security practices was so habitual it bordered on the paranoid. “Really Grey? Even here?”

“Everywhere, Cassandra.” Grey smiled. This one was much more smug than the first. “You do realize we’ve been having this entire conversation telepathically.” Cassandra was surprised, she hadn’t noticed. The realization was shocking enough that the contact broke. Grey spoke aloud for the first time since the meeting started, “I guess I’m not the only creature of habit.”

Cassandra’s stare was murderous as she reopened the link. “Do you know or not?”

“Of course I know. Ridely is in Japan. He’s in the middle of a security contract. Arsiel is in South America, the ruins of Rio.”

“If Ridley’s is in the middle of something I’ll go visit Arsiel first. He’s always been the more empathetic of the two anyway. Can you send me?”

“Yes.”

Cassandra stood and walked around the desk. She pulled Grey out of chair and embraced him. “Thank you for humoring me, Grey.”

“The threat is too serious for me to treat it as anything but credible at this point.”

She leaned back, holding him at arm’s length, “It’s ok, deep down I know it’s because you care about me.” Cassandra needed that statement to be true, so she believed it despite that tiny speck of doubt that always surfaced in Grey’s presence. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and mussed his hair.

Grey gently pushed her away and revealed another smile, this one built from warmth. “That will be enough of that. Stay safe Cassandra, I hope you have better luck this time.” He reached out with an exquisitely manicured index finger and deftly sliced a cut into the air. The cut arced fat, blackish purple sparks.

Cassandra stepped up to it and looked back at Grey. “I hope so too.” She stepped through and the wound in space quickly sealed behind her.

Grey smoothed his hair back and sat down at his desk. He stared at the blotter for a moment, and then picked up the phone. “Cynthia, I’d like a secure line please. Full encryption, level nine, please.” He waited. Clicks and hums emitted from the receiver followed by a steady tone. Grey punched in a fifty-six digit number without faltering, and waited another moment for the line to connect. “Hello Val, we need to talk.”