cHApTEr 17. DisAsTEr DAy of crisis (2 of 3)

The office room on the top floor was crowded with work desks and devices scattered across them and the floor. As if this was not enough, the office room was also packed with people. Mioray had never imagined he would see all of these people – unlikely to ever meet under normal circumstances – gathered in one place. First, there were the detectives, Natalie Lance and Chad Haytham. Natalie’s presence was easy enough to explain, but seeing Detective Haytham there, leaning against a table with his arms and legs crossed, was unexpected. He belonged to the ordinary world, where the existence of the undead was still unknown. He looked at everyone with suspicion, as if judging which of them had committed the graver offense.

“Ah, look who finally decided to join us!” Lokiel exclaimed with delight. “Our little friends! How was your vacation? You missed all the fun.”

The greanrip in the emerald tailcoat sat in the frame of a glassless window, one leg dangling lazily. Only Jean, the quiet man in sand-colored gabardine coat and a brown fedora, was with him, standing at his side. The others were absent, which, all things considered, was probably for the best. Mioray had no desire to see Amika again so soon.

Lokiel greeted them with that same unnerving triangular smile. Mioray scoffed inwardly. For a moment, he could almost understand how Detective Haytham must have felt. When it came to Lokiel, Mioray would always assume the worst. If anyone in the room was plotting something vile, it was him.

Then, in the far corner of the office, Mioray noticed another group. He recognized Reyna Kayree first. She was discussing something with her team – two men and two women. Mioray had seen them before, at Mausolo Museum and later in the back alley.

The moment Lokiel addressed the newcomers, Reyna turned toward them and, radiating confidence, stepped into the middle of the room.

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” she said, looking straight at Mioray. “Mioray Meindmy? I got your name right?”

It wasn’t surprising that she knew his real name. Mioray glanced at Natalie, but the detective didn’t so much as blink. That was part of the cost of asking Reyna for help, and giving up his name was only the smallest part of it. Reyna Kayree expected much more in return.

“And you must be Erinel?” Reyna said, shifting her gaze through her lenses to the greanrip.

Erinel’s expression darkened.

The glasses, Mioray realized. If memory served him right, Reyna Kayree had worn round glasses before, but now she had square ones with a thick frame. She wasn’t the only one. Her subordinates all wore similar glasses, and so did both detectives.

The pale woman from the Order of Mercy had been able to see greanrips with special glasses too. Had Lady Anetta’s Foundation finally caught up? Mioray felt uneasy.

It was wrong. Ordinary people weren’t supposed to see greanrips. Maybe this was what Erinel meant whenever she spoke about nature being violated. The dead were being brought back to life, and now the living could see what they were never meant to see, forcing their way into forbidden territory.

“You humans never know when to stop,” Erinel said reproachfully, as if she had read Mioray’s thoughts.

“Ah, don’t be like that, my dear Erinel!” Lokiel jumped down from the windowsill and spread his arms wide. He seemed to be in an excellent mood despite the devastation outside. “If anything, I find it magnificent! Did you ever expect humans would invent something like this? You have to give them credit. When they put their minds to something, they deliver. Right, Jean?”

Jean only grumbled something in response.

“I don’t share your enthusiasm, Lokiel,” Erinel said, her tone sharp. “You know very well that humans meddling in our affairs will lead to nothing good.”

“That is merely your opinion, my dear Erinel. You’re far too boring for your own good,” Lokiel replied with what was meant to be an innocent smile, though the way it stretched unnaturally across his face made it deeply unsettling.

Erinel’s hazel eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could say or do anything, Reyna Kayree cleared her throat into her fist loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“Clearly, the two of you have matters to discuss in private,” she said in a brisk, businesslike tone. “But right now, I’d like to have your attention. As some of you may or may not know, I’m Reyna Kayree. I work for Lady Anetta’s Foundation as the head of the Department for Evaluate, Analyse and Disclose – or DEAD, for short.”

“Question,” Farah cut in. “Was that name intentional? I mean, I can’t be the only one hearing it, right? Somebody clearly wanted to make a point.”

“Let’s just say there’s some unpleasant history behind our department and the way the rest of the Foundation sees it, alright?” Reyna gave a sour little smile. “Anyway, let me introduce my team. Nadir, Laura, Donavan, and Amber.”

She waited for everyone to introduce themselves, almost like a teacher on the first day of school. Once that was out of the way, she continued.

“I want to make one thing clear. We are not the bad guys here. I understand that all this afterlife business is considered taboo to humans, but we have to acknowledge that line was already crossed. I’m aware that your kind – greanrips, was it? – already tried to deal with it. You raided Order of Mercy’s facilities, stole part of the resurrection serum, and destroyed most of the rest. But it changed nothing. I’m also working to expose the Order and stop them from continuing their experiments. So at least in that regard, I believe our interests align. I want us to cooperate in bringing the Order down before it causes irreversible damage.”

“Shouldn’t the evidence from last year have been enough to expose the Order of Mercy already?” Natalie asked.

“I thought so too,” Reyna said through clenched teeth. “But the Order knows my every move. I can’t beat it with conventional methods. That’s why,” she turned toward the greanrips, “I believe we can help each other.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Erinel said. “If that is all, we are leaving.”

“Wait, it’s not.” Reyna stepped forward, reaching out slightly with one hand. “This disaster… Your friend Lokiel shielded us from the tremor.”

“You’re very welcome,” Lokiel said with an elegant bow.

“And I saw what he is capable of,” Reyna went on, ignoring him. “I assume all greanrips have powers like that? And then there’s you lot,” she added, looking at Mioray and the others one by one. “I know you have powers too. Mioray definitely does. I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re that hero everyone keeps talking about. You’re John Doe, aren’t you? Just like you were at the hospital when we first met?”

She went on to list Mioray’s most recent exploits, including helping at the burning residential complex. While she spoke, Mioray noticed one of her subordinates, the girl in baggy clothes named Amber, looking at him strangely. She kept staring at him as if he were some kind of celebrity. It made him uneasy. Why had this suddenly turned into praise for his actions? That wasn’t why they had gathered here.

“And what does that have to do with us being here?” Erinel asked once Reyna finished.

“You’ve seen what it’s like out there,” Reyna said, pointing toward the window. “We need all the help we can get. I’m asking you to work with us, find the wounded and bring them to the paramedics so they can receive the care they need.”

Erinel’s answer was brief.

“No.”

Reyna, however, was not about to let it end there.

“Why not?” she demanded, irritation creeping into her voice. “You owe me at least that much. I organized this evacuation at your request even though there was no sign whatsoever that something like this would happen. I risked everything, and now you’re refusing me?”

“You are mistaken in all your assumptions, human,” Erinel replied, her voice edged with steel. “First of all, it was Mioray, or rather, Natalie, who asked for your help, not me. Secondly, it does not matter that there was no indication something would happen, because we knew it would. This is how it was always meant to be. Those who were meant to die would have died regardless. And finally, unlike humans, greanrips do not meddle in matters that do not concern us. Our calling is to guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife. The living do not concern us, unless they insist on sticking their noses into our affairs.”

Reyna was left at a loss for words. She clearly hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this way. For once, Mioray felt sorry for her. He didn’t think she was wrong. What she was asking made sense. He would have asked the same in her place. No one knew how many people were out there, trapped beneath rubble, unable to move because of their injuries, bleeding out. The rescue teams were doing their best, but was it enough? It never was. Every single person counted.

“But what about Lokiel?” Reyna pressed on stubbornly. “He did save us, even though we’re among the living!”

“Ah, please, don’t mention it,” Lokiel said, bowing again with a smile.

“Yes, because, unfortunately, you already have stuck your noses into our affairs,” Erinel said, her own tone beginning to sharpen. “Those glasses you wear are proof enough of that. We needed to talk, and that is why I asked Lokiel to keep an eye on you and make sure nothing interrupted us when we returned to the city.”

“Happy to be of service, my dear Erinel.”

“Do you know how many died in today’s disaster?” Erinel continued. She either didn’t hear Lokiel, or chose to ignore him. At this point he had to be mocking them. Why else would he feel the need to chime in every time his name was mentioned? “Many. In a few days, they will return as wandering souls, unaware of what happened and terrified by the destruction around them. Their mental state will be unstable. When that many souls of the dead appear at the same time in the same place, it is almost certain that a Soul Collective will manifest there.”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Reyna asked, confused.

Erinel sighed.

“It does not concern you,” she said, turning toward the exit. “Do what you must, and I will make sure the dead do not disturb the living.”

She was ready to leave, but stopped when she saw that no one followed. Even Lokiel didn’t move; he only pressed the tips of his fingers together, resting both hands on his stomach. A mischievous triangular smile stretched brightly from ear to ear.

“Ah, but you’re not being entirely honest, are you, my dear Erinel?” Lokiel drawled slyly. “Why keep the truth from them? Hey, you there,” he said, and to everyone’s surprise, he addressed Detective Chad Haytham. “I can tell from your face that you have questions. Don’t be shy. Ask away.”

The detective stepped away from the table and gave Natalie a puzzled look. She answered with a silent shrug, just as confused as he was. She wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the room was stunned by Lokiel’s little performance. Everyone except Erinel, perhaps. Mioray noticed how alarmed she suddenly became. What exactly was Lokiel playing at?

“Well, alright,” Detective Haytham cleared his throat. “Actually, I do have a question. Let’s say all this spiritual business is real, even though I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. But I trust my partner here, and you all seem to be on the same page. What I don’t understand…” He removed the glasses that allowed him to see the greanrips. “What’s so special about these glasses?”

Everyone – or at least those who were humans – gasped. Natalie rushed to her partner, horror plain in her eyes.

“Chad, these glasses let us see the greanrips. Without them, we can’t,” she said quickly, her voice unsteady. “But if you can see them without the glasses… Tell me, do you still see them?”

The detective looked at Lokiel, then at Erinel. There was no doubt about it. He could see them perfectly well.

“Well, yeah, I can,” he answered simply, completely unaware of what it meant. “So what?”

“Chad, no!” Natalie clenched her fists. “This has to be a mistake. It has to be.”

“Ah, so you already know what it means?” Lokiel’s teeth flashed. Still, he went on to explain, this time addressing Reyna and her subordinates. “If humans can see us with the naked eye, they are going to die soon. There is only one conclusion. Our friend here will be dead in no more than twenty-one days.”

“Wait,” Detective Haytham let out an uneasy laugh. “Are you saying I’m going to die soon?”

“I’m afraid so, my friend. Within twenty-one days at most.”

“How long have you known?” Natalie demanded.

“Since the moment I joined you. He was the only one who acknowledged my existence before he even put the glasses on.”

“I’m not asking you!” Natalie snapped. She pushed past Lokiel and stopped in front of Erinel. “How long have you known?”

“I didn’t,” Erinel replied.

“Didn’t you say you made sure the people close to us were safe?”

“I did,” Erinel tilted her head slightly. “But that didn’t include you.”

Natalie went still with fury, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“Right. How silly of me,” she said calmly, though there was something dangerous in her voice. “I’m not part of your little group. You know, I was actually looking forward to the day I finally got to see you. It’s nice to put a face to the name. So tell me, how did it feel to kill Terry? Did you enjoy it?”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Semantics. You know what I mean.”

“I had no choice.”

“Yeah, I know that. But you still didn’t answer my question.”

They stood facing each other, neither willing to give way, holding each other’s gaze – one pair of eyes gold, the other brown. Mioray had once asked Erinel something similar, but back then she never got the chance to answer. Would she answer now, when it was Terry’s fiancée standing before her?

“Ladies, ladies, please!” For no obvious reason, Lokiel slipped between Natalie and Erinel, cutting off the tension between them. “I believe we have a more serious matter to discuss.”

“What is that?” Reyna asked warily.

“Don’t you think they have a right to know, Erinel?” Lokiel said with a wink in her direction. “Don’t tell me you failed to notice it while moving through the city.”

That did not sound good. Mioray knew it was something bad even before Erinel opened her mouth.

“This human here is not the only one whose time is running out,” her voice carried through the room. “Most of the people we passed in the streets will die as well. This is not over. Something else is going to happen.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Farah burst out.

She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep quiet. Almost everyone started talking at once, and noise filled the room. Mioray had to focus on Matt and try to calm him down, because the boy was firing question after question – what was going to happen now, and what were they supposed to do? Mioray didn’t have the answers, but panicking was clearly the wrong move, so he tried to reassure Matt that they would think it through, and that now they at least had time on their side.

All the while, he kept glancing at Lokiel. The greanrip was clearly enjoying the effect this revelation had caused. Jean remained by the wall, his expression flat. He must have known already. No doubt Lokiel had told him.

“Is it going to be another meteorite? How soon?” Once the uproar died down a little, Reyna Kayree tried to regain control of the room.

“I can’t tell you anything more,” Erinel said. “Lokiel already said it. There are fewer than twenty-one days. That is the only thing we know. This is the truth.”

“Alright, alright. If it concerns the people still left in the city, then we can assume it is some kind of consequence of the meteorite strike. We need to start thinking of a way to prevent them from dying.”

“It’s impossible,” Erinel sighed, as if she were explaining something to a five-year-old.

“What do you mean, impossible?” Reyna frowned.

“Death is inevitable.”

“But there has to be a way!”

“There is none.”

Reyna had nothing to say to that, and an uneasy silence settled over the room. Was there even any point in arguing with a greanrip, who understood far more about death than humans ever could? Even Mioray had trouble arguing with Erinel, though he desperately wanted to find cracks in her logic. Sometimes he wondered whether the ability to see greanrips was meant as a warning, a chance to escape death. Time and time again he had tried to prove it, and time and time again he had failed.

And now Erinel was saying that even more people were going to die, and they still could do nothing about it. Then what was the point of any of this?

“So…” Detective Haytham was the one who finally broke the silence. “It’s a strange thing, hearing the verdict of your own death. I suppose that’s what terminally ill patients feel when doctors tell them how much time they have left. I really am going to die soon, huh?”

“Don’t be stupid, Chad,” Natalie said, though Mioray could hear the hopelessness in her voice. She knew far too well how greanrips’ rules worked. “We’ll figure something out.”

“It’s alright,” Detective Haytham said with a bitter smile. “I’m no coward. I’m not going to run away. There are still people out there who need help, people I can still do something for. I’m not abandoning them. Though… I’d like to see my family first, just in case.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you to them,” Natalie said at once. Perhaps she hoped that once her partner returned to his family, he might reconsider coming back into the city. She turned to Mioray, pointedly ignoring Erinel. “We’ll be in touch once the signal comes back.”

With that, Natalie Lance left the office with Detective Haytham, her hand on his shoulder as if his legs could no longer be trusted to carry him steadily on their own.

“I refuse to accept the inevitability of your prognosis,” Reyna said to Erinel after watching the detectives leave. “I’m going to do everything in my power. I’ll contact disaster control, space monitoring, everyone I can think of, and have them check what other catastrophe might be about to hit the city. And until then, I’ll gather more volunteers to continue and speed up the evacuation. After the meteorite, I doubt officials will resist as much as they did before.”

Reyna let her gaze pass over everyone in the room.

“But the question remains,” she said. “Can I count on you?”

Before Erinel could answer, and no doubt refuse again, Mioray stepped in.

“I’ll help as much as I can.”

Because there was no reason not to. He had the power to help, to assist the wounded, find survivors, and get trapped people to safety. Yes, maybe some of them would die anyway, but that didn’t mean all of them would. Whoever they were, they needed someone to come for them. If that someone could be him, Mioray couldn’t turn away. It was just as Detective Haytham had said.

“Me too!” Matt blurted out. “I want to help too!”

Mia formed a Y-handshape, palm turned toward the ground, and moved it back and forth.

“Screw it,” Farah said, shaking her head in disbelief. “But just so we’re clear, I’m not doing this for free. I expect fair compensation.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Reyna replied, a little thrown off. Then she looked at Kevin, waiting for his answer.

“I’d be setting a poor example if I refused now, wouldn’t I?” Kevin said, distractedly flicking his thumb across the nails of his other hand one by one.

“I’m glad to hear that. I really appreciate it.”

Reyna sounded sincere. Mioray felt a small pang of guilt for how harshly he had judged her in the past. He had convinced himself she was just the overbearing head of some shady department, but right now she seemed like a decent person, someone who genuinely wasn’t indifferent to other people. She wasn’t self-absorbed. Maybe she really was working for the greater good.

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