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Chapter 12
The meeting the next morning was uncomfortable at first. Rajiya brought the wolves to a private audience room deep in the castle, and fled as soon as she could. It was obvious to them all that Haroun and Noor had had a long argument over the entire affair. “This is against my wishes, Diviner. I hope you realize --”
“But not against mine, Beloved.” Noor interrupted his rant before it could start. “They may be young, but they -are- Immortals. The Eldest trusts them, and she is a true Prophetess. Enough stalling.”
Haroun glared at the wolves, and gestured them all to follow. “Come.” He led the way down into the castle's depths, past the dungeons, through one of the deep storerooms, and finally to a door barred not so much with locks as with concealment. At a word of command, what appeared to be merely a passageway connecting two granary chambers opened a wall to reveal a staircase going farther down into the bedrock, wide enough for all four of them to walk side by side.
“How deep are we going?” Guardian asked after he'd counted the first two hundred steps.
“About two of your miles, I believe. Twenty stadia in the old measures. Al-Ifri does not like to come any closer to the surface than necessary.”
Lowe twitched her ears. “An efreet, then? A creature of fire?”
Haroun shrugged. “Perhaps they were the beginning of the legend. But it is more a creature of crystal and heat than of fire. It is older than almost everything in the world. Cerrunos and Pelé are older, as was Creya. It is the last of its kind now, a caretaker of the deep places in the world.” They descended in silence for a while. Eventually, the staircase ended in a gallery overlooking a vast empty space, and they skirted the edge of the gap, walking along a notch high in the wall that wound down and around the bubble. “This is where Ba-Yabel slept during the drought. Enough mana remained in the deep rocks to maintain the sleep spell, while al-Ifri made sure nothing harmed us.”
The open space was too wide for any of the lights they carried to illuminate the far side. The wolves had an impression of rock dust and silence. The path led a quarter of the way around the bubble, descending all the while, and then plunged back into the rock. “Not too far now.” The temperature rose rapidly as they continued downward; even the humans were feeling uncomfortably warm, while the wolves panted and Diviner's arctic-thick fur became matted with sweat.
The passageway finally expanded out into an anteroom lit by the glow of the wards and runes that guarded a set of double doors of stone, bronze, and iron. “This is where I meet Al-Ifri. On the far side it gets hot.”
Lowe winced. “I should've worn one of those Nomex fire-fighting outfits.” She straightened up, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from her face. “Let's get it over with.”
Haroun nodded, and deactivated the wards one by one until the bars could be lifted and the doors swung open. The cavern beyond was furnace-hot, backlit by the glow of exposed lava in a deep fissure at the center. “Greetings, Al-Ifri. How go your tasks?”
Lowe gasped as the thing reared up from the lava fissure. It resembled a crystal centipede the size of a railway train, and spoke in a voice that would have been chimes if it was not deep enough to be nearly infrasonic. “As well as can be expected, Supervisor. It would be better if I were not alone.”
“Perhaps this cycle will provide for that. Pelé has found an apprentice.”
“This will help. What is it you need, Supervisor Haroun?”
He gestured to the wolves. “One of the young Immortals has the power of Foreseeing, and has brought a problem to my attention. Perhaps I should let her explain it.”
Lowe's eyes widened as the thing shifted its attention to her, and she took a moment to try to gather her thoughts. “Ah. Yes.” She cleared her throat and started over. “There is a conflict ahead of us, and one of the pathways led to a conflict between you and Prince Haroun on one side, and Pelé and her apprentice on the other. We wish to avoid that future.”
The creature nodded solemnly. “This would not be a desirable outcome, no. What must be done?”
“The conflict starts when Haroun asks you to assist him in vengeance, and has you open volcanic vents under his enemies. While this would not be unreasonable in some circumstances, these enemies live in densely populated areas, and most of those who would die are innocent.”
“I perceive the problem. What do you suggest, then?”
“We have a system to control other weapons of great power. Simply put, the order to use the weapons, and in your case, the order to open a new volcano, must not come from only one person.”
Al-Ifri turned its attention back to Haroun. “This is an acceptable solution. Is it your desire that an order to open a new volcano must come from both you and Supervisor Bast-Sekhmet?”
Haroun nodded. “From either of us, and confirmed by a second person. That second person can be Pelé, my consort Lady Noor, the wolf Guardian, the wolf Diviner...” He gestured to each of them in turn. “Or the one known as the Eldest. Do you know that one?”
Al-Ifri nodded once. “I do. How will acceptable seconds be added to or removed from the list?”
Guardian looked at Noor. “I would suggest, by agreement of any two people already on the list.”
She looked to Haroun in turn. “That should work.”
The Prince nodded. “Is this acceptable, Al-Ifri?”
“It is. New instructions received and accepted. While you are all here, then. There is pressure building up under Mount Vesuvius and the Phlegraean Fields. Sometime in the next two centuries it will be necessary to open a new vent to relieve the pressure. Do I have authorization to do so?”
Lowe frowned. “Another dangerously populated area. Can you open it to the southwest of the mountain? Underwater?”
“To avoid problems, this would require multiple smaller vents, starting in no more than seventy-two years. Is this acceptable?”
Guardian nodded. “Your highness?”
Haround chuckled. “You may do so, Al-Ifri.”
Noor smiled and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. “The order is confirmed, Al-Ifri.”
“Then it shall be done. Is there anything else?”
Haround shook his head. “Not at the moment. Twenty-five years from now, unless summoned. The usual orders.”
The huge centipede began to sink deeper into the fissure. “Until then. I shall continue my tasks.” It submerged and there was a brief rumble as the creature moved through the rock.
“And that is how I preserved Ba-Yabel through the drought. Few know of this, and I shall depend on your silence, Diviner.”
Lowe curtsied. “You have my word. This is not the business of any of the mortals.” She swayed, the temperature catching up with her. “Can we get out of here now, before I go into heat stroke?”
Whitford chuckled. “Eager to tackle all those stairs back up?”
“Anything to get out of this heat...”
Reynard's pictures arrived by diplomatic courier a week after Director Lowe returned from her consultation with the Realm of the High Desert, and her aides set up an appointment with the Commerce Secretary for the next day.
Secretary Makovsky, Trader to her secret service detail and the other Immortals, used her still-rudimentary shape-shifting ability to control her size for the most part. She conducted most of her Commerce Department business as a draconic anthromorph, about a third of her natural size. She offered a taloned hand to the wolf as Lowe stepped into her office. “What's this all about, then?”
“We've got some pictures for you to identify, if you can. Did I tell you about Reynard?”
“In passing. Fox-changeling, Immortal trickster, right?”
“That's the one. He ran afoul of some folks who decided that they needed the secrets of immortality back before the Event even happened. The European love of bureaucracy caught up with him, and de Revol had him squirreled away for several years while they tried to figure out what made him tick.”
Trader shook her head. “And when the magic came back...?”
“He's not happy, no. But he found out that de Revol was not the only one involved. We've got sketches of the others now, from their last video-conference. He was watching.” Lowe grinned. “And no, I'm not going to tell you how.”
“That need-to-know thing you intelligence types are always going on about, eh?”
“Got it in one. So... do you recognize any of these people?”
The dragon flipped through the sketches. “I know de Revol. The fox does good work, doesn't he? That'll make it easier to recognize...” She frowned. “I know this fellow. He was in the delegation I met in Beijing. New boy on the block, moved up in the ranks when Wei Lung took over and shook out the deadwood. Name is, is, is...” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Jian Chao. One of the new industrialists out of Shanghai.”
“Ah, excellent. That gives us another thread to pull on. Any of the others?”
“Nope... nope... hmm. This fellow looks vaguely familiar. Reminds me of someone... Brunei! Might be someone from the Sultan's family, looks like him a bit.” She continued looking at the pictures. “Nope, nope, and... uh-oh.”
“I don't like the sound of that.”
“Geoffrey Stavros. One of the biggies up in New York City. Major force in the financial industry, and has his fingers in a lot of other pies as well. I've met him a few times. Before I grew the scales, though. Sorry I don't know more of them.”
“You've just tripled our leads, Irene. More if that one fellow does turn out to be from Brunei. And you may have just made it possible to avoid an assassin's war between the Immortals and this group. I'll keep you in the loop.”
“Thanks. And good luck.”
“...and overall, Mr. President, it looks like our little attempt at disrupting ISIL's upper echelons has been quite successful. At least for the present. I suspect that we will have to do it again in a month or two and repeat the process with whoever emerges from their current power struggle, but at the moment the ones who we missed are running scared.” Director Lowe grinned at the thought. “We managed to get two of them in the middle of speeches to their fanatic followers. Rather hard to preach jihad when Allah lets you get turned into a pig for your trouble.”
“Just between the two of us, Director... let's keep this just between the two of us. The last thing we need is the press claiming this is against the Geneva Conventions or something if they get wind of your participation.”
Lowe snorted laughter. “I'm pretty sure that the Conventions don't make any mention of the use of magic against legitimate military targets. But I'll keep it quiet. Whitford knows, of course, he was there with me, and I did tell Captain Sterling on our way home from Greece. But they both have top security clearances, after all.”
Boehner nodded. “No problem. They're both closely associated with you, in any event. Did you learn anything new from Prince Haroun when you stopped off to visit him?”
“Hmmm. One thing, yes. He has access to what could be considered another form of WMD. Lady Noor and I persuaded him to accept a dual-control on it, so that it cannot be activated by just one person. To be honest, we were concerned by what he might do if he was trying to avenge her death.”
Boehner gave her a rather sardonic look. “That was an oddly specific concern, Director. As well as an extremely vague assessment.”
“Umm. Yes. I learned about what he had under an oath of secrecy enforced by magic. And unfortunately, Mr. President, it did not make an exception for telling you. I -can- say that the additional form of WMD amounts to geologic manipulation. Volcanoes and earthquakes. And that the people who can confirm any actions that make use of such WMD capabilities are not his subordinates. In point of fact, he would need a confirmation from myself, Whitford, Pelé, or the Eldest.”
Boehner was shocked by that, she could tell. He lost control of his politician's mask for a few seconds in his surprise. “He allowed you to have a veto power over his use of his own WMD capability? He trusts you that much?”
“More a matter of Lady Noor insisting on it, sir, but she did persuade him. He couldn't use it to attack us, in any event. We are in Pelé's sphere of influence, and she would not appreciate anyone trying to cause geological havoc in the Americas.”
Boehner stared at her for a long minute, then reached under his desk and pressed a switch. “And the microphones are off.” He resumed looking at her. “You get along amazingly well with these overpowered immortal demigods, Director. Is there something you haven't been telling me?”
Lowe looked up, staring back into the President's eyes and tasting the emotions behind the mask of affable charm. Finally, she nodded. “Yes. There are two reasons they trust me, and by extension, the United States. Are you sure you want to know what they are?”
“I think I already know. You're one of them, aren't you?” His half-smile at her continued hesitation was genuine, she could sense. “And yet you've been pushing the research into longevity harder than anyone in the Cabinet. I don't hold it against you. In fact, I can't imagine anyone who would be more qualified to take the long view of things.”
Lowe sighed. “And that's the other half. They call me The Diviner. My own personal 'overpowered demigoddess abilities' are focused around information - and precognition. It's why I'm so good at this job. I can sometimes -see- what will happen if particular actions are taken or not. And I can find things out through means other than espionage.” She exhaled sharply, a single huff of dark humor. “Or traditional espionage, at any rate. Thor thinks of me as one of the Norns, Circe as an Oracle, or even an equal to Lachesis.”
“Who...?”
“One of the Greek Fates. The one who directed the weaving of the tapestry of destiny. I suspect her abilities were similar to mine.” She shook her head. “Coyote takes it as a challenge – he keeps trying to play practical jokes on me, but so far I've always spotted them coming.”
“So where do your loyalties lie, then? With your country? Or with your peers?”
“It is neither simple nor necessarily a choice, Mr. President. I stand with some of the Immortals, and against others. I helped arrange to kill two of them, after all, and that was with the full approval of the Eldest. Most of them approve of Project Mirror. The good ones stand on the side of civilization. No sane Immortal wants to spend lifetimes running everyone's lives. If nothing else, it would get boring after a few centuries. Haroun remains the ruler of the High Desert out of a sense of duty, and wanting the best for the people -he- is part of. Wei Lung kicked out the Communists because he felt he had to, and is now stepping back and letting more and more of the actual government be run by mortals. Most of the older ones have dabbled in politics at one time or another, but few have stayed with it for more than a cycle.”
Boehner raised his hand, palm up. “Very interesting, but... you haven't answered my question, have you?”
Lowe chuckled. “Fair enough. My long-term loyalty is to civilization. For at least the next few centuries, that should mean the United States, and I will have the support of several of the others. Is that sufficient?”
“I think it will do. Certainly for the remainder of my administration.” He reached for the switch again, but paused as the wolf raised her hand.
“Before you turn them back on, sir... There is something that pertains to my dual status. There is an international conspiracy against the Immortals. And I have just discovered that one of its members is here, an American citizen.”
“Ah. And if you do your hocus-pocus stuff on him as a private citizen and demigoddess...”
“I'm technically in violation of various statutes and constitutional protections because of my official standing, yes.”
“What are they planning, precisely?”
“According to my sources, they think they can acquire the 'secret' of immortality from us. One of them had Reynard in custody -before- the Event. He'd noticed when Reynard's lack of aging started causing confusion in the bureaucracy. After the Event, of course, he got away from them.”
“That's how you found out, isn't it?”
She grinned. “He was rather upset about the whole affair, yes. He lost a vineyard he'd been developing since before the French Revolution in the scramble. But they're all rich and mostly old, and have been convinced there is a shortcut. I don't know if they've been told so by someone, or if it's just wishful thinking, but they don't seem to be willing to wait for actual medical research to come up with a solution.”
“Is there a shortcut?”
“Well... sort of. It's temporary, painful, and very very difficult for the sorcerer doing it. There aren't enough of us to do it for all of them, even if they trusted us to do it without coercion.”
Boehner looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “Temporary immortality?”
“More of a rejuvenation, sir.”
Boehner nodded. “I see. Well... It seems to be important to our allies among the Immortals, so go ahead. Don't get caught, though. I don't want to have to fire you.”
Lowe nodded. “Thank you. I'll do my best.”
The meeting the next morning was uncomfortable at first. Rajiya brought the wolves to a private audience room deep in the castle, and fled as soon as she could. It was obvious to them all that Haroun and Noor had had a long argument over the entire affair. “This is against my wishes, Diviner. I hope you realize --”
“But not against mine, Beloved.” Noor interrupted his rant before it could start. “They may be young, but they -are- Immortals. The Eldest trusts them, and she is a true Prophetess. Enough stalling.”
Haroun glared at the wolves, and gestured them all to follow. “Come.” He led the way down into the castle's depths, past the dungeons, through one of the deep storerooms, and finally to a door barred not so much with locks as with concealment. At a word of command, what appeared to be merely a passageway connecting two granary chambers opened a wall to reveal a staircase going farther down into the bedrock, wide enough for all four of them to walk side by side.
“How deep are we going?” Guardian asked after he'd counted the first two hundred steps.
“About two of your miles, I believe. Twenty stadia in the old measures. Al-Ifri does not like to come any closer to the surface than necessary.”
Lowe twitched her ears. “An efreet, then? A creature of fire?”
Haroun shrugged. “Perhaps they were the beginning of the legend. But it is more a creature of crystal and heat than of fire. It is older than almost everything in the world. Cerrunos and Pelé are older, as was Creya. It is the last of its kind now, a caretaker of the deep places in the world.” They descended in silence for a while. Eventually, the staircase ended in a gallery overlooking a vast empty space, and they skirted the edge of the gap, walking along a notch high in the wall that wound down and around the bubble. “This is where Ba-Yabel slept during the drought. Enough mana remained in the deep rocks to maintain the sleep spell, while al-Ifri made sure nothing harmed us.”
The open space was too wide for any of the lights they carried to illuminate the far side. The wolves had an impression of rock dust and silence. The path led a quarter of the way around the bubble, descending all the while, and then plunged back into the rock. “Not too far now.” The temperature rose rapidly as they continued downward; even the humans were feeling uncomfortably warm, while the wolves panted and Diviner's arctic-thick fur became matted with sweat.
The passageway finally expanded out into an anteroom lit by the glow of the wards and runes that guarded a set of double doors of stone, bronze, and iron. “This is where I meet Al-Ifri. On the far side it gets hot.”
Lowe winced. “I should've worn one of those Nomex fire-fighting outfits.” She straightened up, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from her face. “Let's get it over with.”
Haroun nodded, and deactivated the wards one by one until the bars could be lifted and the doors swung open. The cavern beyond was furnace-hot, backlit by the glow of exposed lava in a deep fissure at the center. “Greetings, Al-Ifri. How go your tasks?”
Lowe gasped as the thing reared up from the lava fissure. It resembled a crystal centipede the size of a railway train, and spoke in a voice that would have been chimes if it was not deep enough to be nearly infrasonic. “As well as can be expected, Supervisor. It would be better if I were not alone.”
“Perhaps this cycle will provide for that. Pelé has found an apprentice.”
“This will help. What is it you need, Supervisor Haroun?”
He gestured to the wolves. “One of the young Immortals has the power of Foreseeing, and has brought a problem to my attention. Perhaps I should let her explain it.”
Lowe's eyes widened as the thing shifted its attention to her, and she took a moment to try to gather her thoughts. “Ah. Yes.” She cleared her throat and started over. “There is a conflict ahead of us, and one of the pathways led to a conflict between you and Prince Haroun on one side, and Pelé and her apprentice on the other. We wish to avoid that future.”
The creature nodded solemnly. “This would not be a desirable outcome, no. What must be done?”
“The conflict starts when Haroun asks you to assist him in vengeance, and has you open volcanic vents under his enemies. While this would not be unreasonable in some circumstances, these enemies live in densely populated areas, and most of those who would die are innocent.”
“I perceive the problem. What do you suggest, then?”
“We have a system to control other weapons of great power. Simply put, the order to use the weapons, and in your case, the order to open a new volcano, must not come from only one person.”
Al-Ifri turned its attention back to Haroun. “This is an acceptable solution. Is it your desire that an order to open a new volcano must come from both you and Supervisor Bast-Sekhmet?”
Haroun nodded. “From either of us, and confirmed by a second person. That second person can be Pelé, my consort Lady Noor, the wolf Guardian, the wolf Diviner...” He gestured to each of them in turn. “Or the one known as the Eldest. Do you know that one?”
Al-Ifri nodded once. “I do. How will acceptable seconds be added to or removed from the list?”
Guardian looked at Noor. “I would suggest, by agreement of any two people already on the list.”
She looked to Haroun in turn. “That should work.”
The Prince nodded. “Is this acceptable, Al-Ifri?”
“It is. New instructions received and accepted. While you are all here, then. There is pressure building up under Mount Vesuvius and the Phlegraean Fields. Sometime in the next two centuries it will be necessary to open a new vent to relieve the pressure. Do I have authorization to do so?”
Lowe frowned. “Another dangerously populated area. Can you open it to the southwest of the mountain? Underwater?”
“To avoid problems, this would require multiple smaller vents, starting in no more than seventy-two years. Is this acceptable?”
Guardian nodded. “Your highness?”
Haround chuckled. “You may do so, Al-Ifri.”
Noor smiled and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. “The order is confirmed, Al-Ifri.”
“Then it shall be done. Is there anything else?”
Haround shook his head. “Not at the moment. Twenty-five years from now, unless summoned. The usual orders.”
The huge centipede began to sink deeper into the fissure. “Until then. I shall continue my tasks.” It submerged and there was a brief rumble as the creature moved through the rock.
“And that is how I preserved Ba-Yabel through the drought. Few know of this, and I shall depend on your silence, Diviner.”
Lowe curtsied. “You have my word. This is not the business of any of the mortals.” She swayed, the temperature catching up with her. “Can we get out of here now, before I go into heat stroke?”
Whitford chuckled. “Eager to tackle all those stairs back up?”
“Anything to get out of this heat...”
Reynard's pictures arrived by diplomatic courier a week after Director Lowe returned from her consultation with the Realm of the High Desert, and her aides set up an appointment with the Commerce Secretary for the next day.
Secretary Makovsky, Trader to her secret service detail and the other Immortals, used her still-rudimentary shape-shifting ability to control her size for the most part. She conducted most of her Commerce Department business as a draconic anthromorph, about a third of her natural size. She offered a taloned hand to the wolf as Lowe stepped into her office. “What's this all about, then?”
“We've got some pictures for you to identify, if you can. Did I tell you about Reynard?”
“In passing. Fox-changeling, Immortal trickster, right?”
“That's the one. He ran afoul of some folks who decided that they needed the secrets of immortality back before the Event even happened. The European love of bureaucracy caught up with him, and de Revol had him squirreled away for several years while they tried to figure out what made him tick.”
Trader shook her head. “And when the magic came back...?”
“He's not happy, no. But he found out that de Revol was not the only one involved. We've got sketches of the others now, from their last video-conference. He was watching.” Lowe grinned. “And no, I'm not going to tell you how.”
“That need-to-know thing you intelligence types are always going on about, eh?”
“Got it in one. So... do you recognize any of these people?”
The dragon flipped through the sketches. “I know de Revol. The fox does good work, doesn't he? That'll make it easier to recognize...” She frowned. “I know this fellow. He was in the delegation I met in Beijing. New boy on the block, moved up in the ranks when Wei Lung took over and shook out the deadwood. Name is, is, is...” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Jian Chao. One of the new industrialists out of Shanghai.”
“Ah, excellent. That gives us another thread to pull on. Any of the others?”
“Nope... nope... hmm. This fellow looks vaguely familiar. Reminds me of someone... Brunei! Might be someone from the Sultan's family, looks like him a bit.” She continued looking at the pictures. “Nope, nope, and... uh-oh.”
“I don't like the sound of that.”
“Geoffrey Stavros. One of the biggies up in New York City. Major force in the financial industry, and has his fingers in a lot of other pies as well. I've met him a few times. Before I grew the scales, though. Sorry I don't know more of them.”
“You've just tripled our leads, Irene. More if that one fellow does turn out to be from Brunei. And you may have just made it possible to avoid an assassin's war between the Immortals and this group. I'll keep you in the loop.”
“Thanks. And good luck.”
“...and overall, Mr. President, it looks like our little attempt at disrupting ISIL's upper echelons has been quite successful. At least for the present. I suspect that we will have to do it again in a month or two and repeat the process with whoever emerges from their current power struggle, but at the moment the ones who we missed are running scared.” Director Lowe grinned at the thought. “We managed to get two of them in the middle of speeches to their fanatic followers. Rather hard to preach jihad when Allah lets you get turned into a pig for your trouble.”
“Just between the two of us, Director... let's keep this just between the two of us. The last thing we need is the press claiming this is against the Geneva Conventions or something if they get wind of your participation.”
Lowe snorted laughter. “I'm pretty sure that the Conventions don't make any mention of the use of magic against legitimate military targets. But I'll keep it quiet. Whitford knows, of course, he was there with me, and I did tell Captain Sterling on our way home from Greece. But they both have top security clearances, after all.”
Boehner nodded. “No problem. They're both closely associated with you, in any event. Did you learn anything new from Prince Haroun when you stopped off to visit him?”
“Hmmm. One thing, yes. He has access to what could be considered another form of WMD. Lady Noor and I persuaded him to accept a dual-control on it, so that it cannot be activated by just one person. To be honest, we were concerned by what he might do if he was trying to avenge her death.”
Boehner gave her a rather sardonic look. “That was an oddly specific concern, Director. As well as an extremely vague assessment.”
“Umm. Yes. I learned about what he had under an oath of secrecy enforced by magic. And unfortunately, Mr. President, it did not make an exception for telling you. I -can- say that the additional form of WMD amounts to geologic manipulation. Volcanoes and earthquakes. And that the people who can confirm any actions that make use of such WMD capabilities are not his subordinates. In point of fact, he would need a confirmation from myself, Whitford, Pelé, or the Eldest.”
Boehner was shocked by that, she could tell. He lost control of his politician's mask for a few seconds in his surprise. “He allowed you to have a veto power over his use of his own WMD capability? He trusts you that much?”
“More a matter of Lady Noor insisting on it, sir, but she did persuade him. He couldn't use it to attack us, in any event. We are in Pelé's sphere of influence, and she would not appreciate anyone trying to cause geological havoc in the Americas.”
Boehner stared at her for a long minute, then reached under his desk and pressed a switch. “And the microphones are off.” He resumed looking at her. “You get along amazingly well with these overpowered immortal demigods, Director. Is there something you haven't been telling me?”
Lowe looked up, staring back into the President's eyes and tasting the emotions behind the mask of affable charm. Finally, she nodded. “Yes. There are two reasons they trust me, and by extension, the United States. Are you sure you want to know what they are?”
“I think I already know. You're one of them, aren't you?” His half-smile at her continued hesitation was genuine, she could sense. “And yet you've been pushing the research into longevity harder than anyone in the Cabinet. I don't hold it against you. In fact, I can't imagine anyone who would be more qualified to take the long view of things.”
Lowe sighed. “And that's the other half. They call me The Diviner. My own personal 'overpowered demigoddess abilities' are focused around information - and precognition. It's why I'm so good at this job. I can sometimes -see- what will happen if particular actions are taken or not. And I can find things out through means other than espionage.” She exhaled sharply, a single huff of dark humor. “Or traditional espionage, at any rate. Thor thinks of me as one of the Norns, Circe as an Oracle, or even an equal to Lachesis.”
“Who...?”
“One of the Greek Fates. The one who directed the weaving of the tapestry of destiny. I suspect her abilities were similar to mine.” She shook her head. “Coyote takes it as a challenge – he keeps trying to play practical jokes on me, but so far I've always spotted them coming.”
“So where do your loyalties lie, then? With your country? Or with your peers?”
“It is neither simple nor necessarily a choice, Mr. President. I stand with some of the Immortals, and against others. I helped arrange to kill two of them, after all, and that was with the full approval of the Eldest. Most of them approve of Project Mirror. The good ones stand on the side of civilization. No sane Immortal wants to spend lifetimes running everyone's lives. If nothing else, it would get boring after a few centuries. Haroun remains the ruler of the High Desert out of a sense of duty, and wanting the best for the people -he- is part of. Wei Lung kicked out the Communists because he felt he had to, and is now stepping back and letting more and more of the actual government be run by mortals. Most of the older ones have dabbled in politics at one time or another, but few have stayed with it for more than a cycle.”
Boehner raised his hand, palm up. “Very interesting, but... you haven't answered my question, have you?”
Lowe chuckled. “Fair enough. My long-term loyalty is to civilization. For at least the next few centuries, that should mean the United States, and I will have the support of several of the others. Is that sufficient?”
“I think it will do. Certainly for the remainder of my administration.” He reached for the switch again, but paused as the wolf raised her hand.
“Before you turn them back on, sir... There is something that pertains to my dual status. There is an international conspiracy against the Immortals. And I have just discovered that one of its members is here, an American citizen.”
“Ah. And if you do your hocus-pocus stuff on him as a private citizen and demigoddess...”
“I'm technically in violation of various statutes and constitutional protections because of my official standing, yes.”
“What are they planning, precisely?”
“According to my sources, they think they can acquire the 'secret' of immortality from us. One of them had Reynard in custody -before- the Event. He'd noticed when Reynard's lack of aging started causing confusion in the bureaucracy. After the Event, of course, he got away from them.”
“That's how you found out, isn't it?”
She grinned. “He was rather upset about the whole affair, yes. He lost a vineyard he'd been developing since before the French Revolution in the scramble. But they're all rich and mostly old, and have been convinced there is a shortcut. I don't know if they've been told so by someone, or if it's just wishful thinking, but they don't seem to be willing to wait for actual medical research to come up with a solution.”
“Is there a shortcut?”
“Well... sort of. It's temporary, painful, and very very difficult for the sorcerer doing it. There aren't enough of us to do it for all of them, even if they trusted us to do it without coercion.”
Boehner looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “Temporary immortality?”
“More of a rejuvenation, sir.”
Boehner nodded. “I see. Well... It seems to be important to our allies among the Immortals, so go ahead. Don't get caught, though. I don't want to have to fire you.”
Lowe nodded. “Thank you. I'll do my best.”
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