“It’s too late for negotiation. You’ve destroyed several key factories. What did you think that would achieve?”
She was blaming me? “Name your compensation,” I said.
“Your eternal servitude,” she replied. “Your undying gratitude.”
The projection ended. Negotiations had failed. If I couldn’t talk my way out of this, there had to be another way. My light bombs had been removed. Even with my armor on, there wasn’t anything I could do about a blade to my face. As Dr. Faceless waved his knife around, I tried to shake my way off the bed. The restraints were too secure and I prayed for a miracle.
It came with a dropping sound and one of the faceless falling over. The doctor turned around and I saw a man with white hair rushing at another guard. He moved gracefully as though he were performing a swan dance. When he lunged his hands, the ferocity of his plunge was feral, his mouth crunching into his nose, his nostrils flaring with savagery. He used a metallic chopstick to perforate their necks. One violent thrust in the pipe works of their esophagus resulted in a spray of blood splattering out. It was all in slow motion, the faceless men unable to scream as their throats were choked with blood. Flashes of white became a wavelength of death. I could see the blood cut off, the guards crumbling to their knees, their pants becoming a wrinkled mess. Even in agony, they could make no expression. Only their eyes betrayed them, the slit of their pupils grasping. They were victims of this reaper who sowed with his chopsticks and divested with his fingers.
When he’d finished killing the guards, he came to the doctor. The doctor had his knives but the killer was too quick. From behind, I saw a chopstick cut through where the doctor’s right eye should have been. Then another through the left side. The doctor crumbled to the floor.
My savior approached me. There was blood on his white hair. He was the man who’d given me an umbrella outside the convention center. I realized he was also the man that had killed Larry Chao using those sharp and pointed chopsticks.
“I’m Voltaire,” he said as he unloosed my straps. “We have a lot to discuss.”
V.
A woman named Austen who must have been a sister to Beauvoir and Plath stitched up my face. There were a few others who appeared to be brothers to Voltaire and carried guns. They all had white hair.
“You’re related to Tolstoy?” I asked Voltaire.
“He is my brother. He spoke highly of you.”
“What’d he say?”
“That you have guts.”
“He saved my life. And now you’ve saved my life. Thank you.”
He shrugged.
“You’ve dealt with a lot of them?” I asked, referring to the faceless.
“Even if they move and breathe, they’re not really living.”
While I was grateful to him for saving my life, I was positive he was Larry’s murderer. I wasn’t sure what my proper reaction should be. “How did you find me?”
“My sister, Beauvoir, insisted. Fortunately, I have sources among the faceless. Brothers who have sacrificed themselves for the cause,” he said.
I didn’t want to imagine what he meant by those words. “Why did you come?”
“We are more alike than you can imagine,” he said. “We both could not protect the ones we loved.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Larry told me about you,” he answered. Before I could ask more, he asked Austen, “How long before you’re finished?”
“Another ten minutes,” she answered as she patched me up.
“We need to hurry or we’ll be late.”
One of the others brought me my armor and weapons.
“Is this all of it?” Voltaire asked me.
“I think so.”
“Put it on.”
If he was worried about me turning on him, he didn’t show it. I was tempted to paralyze him and set off a light bomb. As though he knew what I was thinking, he asked, “Do you want to know what Larry died for?”
“Of course,” I answered.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll show you.”
VI.
His group was small — seven white-haired men and five women. They walked like a clergy in a ceremonial procession, dressed in white robes. There was an ephemeral quality to all of them, asexual in appearance. It was a result of their unblemished skin and their perfect hair.
They escorted me out of the grounds that turned out to be an abandoned hospital. A convoy of four black cars awaited us.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Airport.”
“Are we going to Bangkok?”
“No. America,” he answered as we both got into the car.
“Why?”
“Do you know why the Colonel is after you?”
“She thinks I have the formula for the secret hair.”
“Do you?” He laughed.
“You all have real hair,” I replied as the car began driving.
“Which was harvested to make the best wigs,” Voltaire said. “You lived a tough childhood?”
“Tough childhood is relative. You?”
“I will show you my childhood. Soon. When we arrive in America. Let’s get back to the Colonel and Russ and why he wanted an impostor Larry.”
“Because he wanted to move into garbage?”
“You really have no clue?”
“No,” I answered.
Voltaire laughed and shook his chopstick at me. “I’m almost tempted not to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He tapped his chopsticks on his knees, musing on a thought.
“Larry had no family,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“That’s why he willed his entire fortune to you.”
“He doesn’t control his will,” I replied, knowing that super computer of his, set up by his father, controlled everything.
“He did control it.”
“It’s some computer that his father created.”
“It’s a lie,” Voltaire said with wide eyes. “He seemed like an idiot, and he always told that lie, but no such machine existed. He was in charge all along. And he willed control of his entire business and all of his fortunes to you. You are one of the richest men in the world. There, there, close your mouth. That’s why the Colonel blames you. She thinks you’re in control. And that’s why Russ wanted a fake Larry installed until he could figure out a way to change the will in his favor. Unfortunately, the will is locked by law and can’t be changed without express approval from you.”
I couldn’t register what Voltaire had said. It felt so surreal. “Is this what this is about? This is why you saved my life?” I asked. “You can have all his money. I don’t want any of it.”
Voltaire nodded as though he approved of my words.
And then it came back to me, how Larry invited me along to the business meeting before his death, the mysterious pieces of advice he alluded to. Was he trying to prepare me to take his place? But me? I was the worst possible candidate to leave all of this to. I was always a follower, always a person who supported those in charge. I never aspired to more. Voltaire’s revelation was so crazy, I couldn’t believe it. The only thing I ever wanted in life was a family.
“A lot to mull over?” he wondered.
“I don’t get it.”
“Neither did anyone else. I didn’t expect it.”
“I don’t want any of it. I just want out.”
“That’s what Larry said when he found out about us.”
“About you?”
“The crimes his father committed,” Voltaire said. “But when it came down to it, he couldn’t leave it behind.”