“Which is?”
“The ballot proposition.” Again in stereo.
Merlin continued. “Get enough signatures on a petition using the initiative system, and any crazy-ass idea can end up on the ballot at the next election.”
Now it was Maslin’s turn. “It grew out of a good impulse back in the early days of the Progressive Movement. The idea that the citizenry should and could have an impact on legislation. A way to counter the influence of powerful, entrenched interests. It’s direct democracy by citizen lawmaking.”
“Unfortunately the citizens are often idiots or bigots,” Merlin said. “The only check on the ballot proposition is the Constitution. And since the Álfar haven’t been declared a protected class under the U.S. Constitution if this proposition passes this ban will apply in California until somebody takes it up with the Supreme Court. Until then the state can violate the Fourteenth Amendment’s Equal Protection clause with impunity.”
I leaned back in my chair and considered. “They might not have to be declared a protected class.” I quoted Section one of the amendment. “All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the state wherein they reside. No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”
“Well, there’s a question,” Maslin said. “Are the Álfar citizens? Were they born in this country?”
“The due process and equal protection clauses use the word person rather than citizen,” I pointed out. “And courts have ruled that marriage is a fundamental right. It would certainly fall under the rubric of privileges. Bottom line: you can’t just single out a group of people, be they African-Americans or gays or women, and arbitrarily deny them their rights. Civil rights should never be subject to the ballot box.”
Merlin laid the tip of his right index finger on the end of his nose and pointed at me with the left. A young waiter and an older woman (I was betting she was his mother because of their body language) came to the table with our appetizers. We sat silent for a few minutes, munching on rice paper–wrapped spring rolls, pork satay, and mee krob.
I played with my fork, tapping it against the edge of my plate, and said, “I’ve been getting a lot of weird hang-up phone calls. Then it progressed to a couple of nasty phone calls. I think the Human First movement, or at least some member of the group, is behind the calls, though I can’t prove it.”
Identical pairs of blue eyes focused on me. “That’s kind of scary,” Merlin said.
I shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t escalate beyond phone calls I’m not worried.”
“Good woman,” Maslin said, and then punched his brother on the shoulder. “You are such a wimp.”
“Better than being a macho asshole.”
I jabbed my fork at them. “Hey! No sibling rivalry bullshit. I have enough of that with my own brother.” I pinned Maslin with a look, and drawled, “And aren’t you a little short to be a macho asshole?” I wanted to kick myself. I’d been complaining about the constant movie quotes, and here I was doing it. I decided the habit must be catching. Something in the water of California.
“Precisely why I have to be a macho asshole. And you should talk, shorty,” he said with a grin.
“But back on the subject, guys. Kerrinan said Human First protestors were on the sidewalk in front of the driving range, and they were certainly outside the studio after Jondin’s … episode.”
Maslin typed on his netbook. “Okay, so we have possible suspects. The real question is, how? How in the hell do you drive an Álfar to murder?”
“Well, that’s why I went to talk to Qwendar.”
“And what insights did he have to offer?” Maslin asked.
I opened my mouth and realized that while we’d talked for a number of hours, and I enjoyed the conversation I didn’t have a lot of specifics. “He said Álfar physiology differs from human in terms of blood types and blood chemistry. He told me a lot about their pride and love of beauty.” I frowned.
“Not very helpful,” Maslin said.
At that moment our food arrived. I had ordered the pad thai, but the aroma of Merlin’s garlic beef and Maslin’s mint noodles with chicken was seductive. I saw them eyeing my noodles.
“Family style?” I suggested. Smiles broke out all around, and we quickly passed the plates.
We ate for a few minutes, then Maslin pulled his Apple Air back in front of him and started typing. “Okay, following up on what we do know. Different physiology … maybe drugs? Something like angel dust that can cause a murderous rage but in Álfar.”
“Hypnosis. Manchurian candidate stuff,” Merlin suggested.
“You watch too many movies,” Maslin said. “Blackmail. They were forced to do these things.”
“Because somebody can threaten them with something worse than a first-degree murder charge and life imprisonment?” Merlin asked. Once again the snark was on the rise between the twins.
They fell silent. I gathered my courage and said, “There’s a reason the Powers are called the Powers, and it’s not just because they’ve had their hands on the levers of power in the world for millennia.”
“What are you saying?” Merlin asked.
“Well, for lack of a better word—magic. That’s what I really wanted Qwendar to talk about, but he stayed pretty mum.” They both stared at me. “Look, I know it’s the twenty-first century, and we’re all about science and being rational, but let’s get real.” I pinned Merlin with a look. “We work for a bunch of immortal dead guys. I was raised in a vampire household, and I don’t have a full understanding of their abilities. They’re careful about what they show humans.” I turned my attention to Maslin. “You wrote a piece for Time last month. That means a werewolf authorized your paycheck. Hounds are stronger than normal people, heal faster, live longer, and they can turn into a wild animal at will, and that’s what we know. What other powers and abilities might they have? We know the Álfar live in a slightly skewed reality. Legend has it that they are irresistible to normal people. My vampire foster father was always warning me about the Álfar. Once again, we have no idea the range of their powers and abilities. And it’s not like they share this information with each other. Despite what people … real people … human people think, the Powers aren’t united in their interests or their methods. They’re just united when it comes to dealing with us.”
The men seated across from me sat silent, but their expressions betrayed their discomfort.
“Okay,” Merlin said. “That gave me a shiver.”
“So if they’re secretive with each other, how the hell do we find out about these powers?” Maslin asked.
“We hope our ally proves to be more forthcoming,” I said brightly.
Merlin pulled his brother’s laptop over, and his fingers flew across the keyboard, the click of the keys like bird pecks on glass. “Looking for authorities on the Powers. Wow, lot of cranks out there … a few university papers. I’m going to have to do some research.”
“That’s right, you’re the research guru,” I said. I looked at Maslin. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Back to the basics. Meet people, ask them questions. We’ll talk to the Human First people and retrace Kerrinan’s steps on the day of the murder.”
“Won’t that alert Human First?”
“Yeah, but when people get nervous they make mistakes,” Maslin said breezily.