Glottis looked around apprehensively.
I looked, too, but couldn’t see anything. “Any sign of that octopus?” I asked.
“No, but I can smell ’im.”
We got to the structures, mostly huge supports for something that showed indistinctly above water’s surface. One thing that stood out, on the sea floor, was an elevator shaft.
I pointed to it and said, “I’m going to go up and see what I can find. Do you think you could watch my exit down here?”
“I think so, Manny.”
“You gonna be OK, mano? Or do you need to get some air?”
Glottis shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got gills somewhere.”
“OK. I’m gonna go see if I can find Meche.”
I took the elevator up to a big platform, supporting cranes and other large machinery, that extended from the island out over the sea. There was a nice view, if a little bleak, like everything in the Land of the Dead. I followed a catwalk to a complex of buildings on the island which looked like some kind of factory compound. It seemed deserted, and second impressions didn’t contradict my first. The buildings were badly weathered, while garbage—such as crumpled-up papers and styrofoam cups—was scattered everywhere. There was also a lot of broken windows, but I could see signs of recent repair the closer I got to the largest building. This must be the actual factory, I thought. It sat right at the edge of the island, almost opposite from where Glottis and I had dropped off the sub, and I could see conveyor belts lifting hunks of coral out of the sea and into the building.
I found an unlocked door and quietly entered. There was no one in sight. I followed noises and discovered the place where the conveyor belts took the coral. A large number of haggard-looking souls were collecting the coral into things that looked like mining carts, and pushing them to some other place. I wasn’t interested in the coral and I wasn’t ready to be seen, so I ducked out and went looking for a way to get to the upper floors.
After a little searching I found offices on the top floor overlooking the sea. Most were either deserted or locked. I found a deck of cards in one. I swiped it because you never know when there might be a solitaire emergency. The main office suite looked like it was still occupied, even though there was no one in the outer office when I entered. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I could still observe unyellowed papers on the desk and a smoldering butt in an elaborate bronze ashtray, and deduce that someone was around.
I went into the inner office. Very impressive, with lots of space, a massive desk, and big windows looking out over the sea. No one was sitting behind the desk, but a woman was putting some papers on it. She turned to stare out a window. I got just enough profile to know I’d finally found her.
“Meche,” I said softly as I came up to her.
She jumped and spun around. “Manny!” she exclaimed. One hand came up to her open jaw. “What… what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see how your trip was going, angel,” I answered, feeling a little giddy. “I am your travel agent, you know.” I was floating, emotionally, as though sleeping or stone drunk. “By the way, thanks for that bottle of champagne you sent me,” I tapped the little crack it had made in my skull. “It really hit the spot.”
I was making a joke, but Meche was serious when she said, “You were headed for a trap. I was trying to warn you. Domino was using me like bait.” She tossed the papers she still had in her hands onto the desk in a careless heap. She turned away and took a step or two away from me before saying, “I didn’t want you to end up a prisoner here like me.”
I was confused, and I felt a flash of anger. She had knocked my lights out as a warning? The bait part sort of made sense, but— “Prisoner?” I asked incredulously, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward me. “Where’s your cell?” I asked, thrusting my face toward hers, almost snarling the words, I only realized afterwards. “Or are you just sharing a bunk with the warden?”
That was a mistake, letting my mouth get ahead of me like that, and I knew it the instant Meche’s hand cracked across my face. “If that’s what you think of me,” she asked hotly, yanking herself out of my grasp, “then why did you come here?”
Meche didn’t wait for an answer. She turned away and quickly strode toward the door. Before she could get there, Domino came through big as death wearing a burnt-orange leisure suit and a gaudy tie like something from Jackson Pollock’s garbage. Big, mirrored sunglasses hid the empty black pits of his eye sockets.
“Because this is where he belongs,” Domino answered for me. “Here. Working for me.” I don’t know what startled me more—that I was actually face-to-face with my nemesis again, or that he was strolling around a half-deserted factory island on the edge of the world looking like a Miami Beach lounge lizard. “I knew you’d come around eventually,” he said to me, peering down at me over his shades, “because, right or wrong,” he said to Meche, “Manuel Calavera is always on the winning team.” Meche just stood silently by the door, her hands clasped in front of her. “Right, Manny? That’s why you’re here now.”
I shook my head slowly. I didn’t know what his act was about, but I wasn’t going to play along. “I’m getting off this rock,” I said, “and I’m taking all of these people with me.”
Domino laughed. “Manny, there’s no way off this island. I’m afraid you’re stuck here in my little executive training program.” He took off his shades, tossing them onto the top of his desk as he sat down in his black-leather executive chair, putting his feet up and his hands behind his skull. “See, I need you to take my place here, kid. I’ve got to get back to the city where the action is.” He projected a big, satisfied grin.
Before I could say anything to that, Glottis came blundering in. I made discreet shooing motions, but instead of sensibly turning around and running like hell, he said, “Sorry, Manny, but I had to come in. My skin was getting all pruney.”
“Him I don’t need,” Domino said, reaching under his desk with one hand.
Glottis made it one more step forward before the floor beneath him dropped away. He fell with a scream. There was a splash, and a few seconds later I could see him—still screaming—being carried by the current over the edge.
If I still had eyes and blood, I would have seen red. “I’m gonna grind you to powder for that, cabrón,” I snarled as I advanced toward Domino.
“Maybe later,” he said as he sprang to his feet and everything went black.
Los Angelitos
I came to sitting slumped forward at a small desk. I pulled myself more or less upright in the chair and massaged my skull. I shook my head to try to clear it.
“Careful, Bibi,” a high-pitched voice said. “The new boss is waking up.”
I turned toward the voice and saw just about the saddest thing I’d ever seen, alive or dead. There, in the middle of the office I found myself in, was a large cage. Probably meant for birds, it currently held two small children. Along with the kids in the cage were small chunks of coral in a bowl, tools, and some other things I couldn’t make sense of right away. A little sweatshop.
I stood up and managed to walk over to the cage. The kids sat on two perches, focusing on their work, their little wings drooping.
“Hola, angelitos,” I said with a trace of a slur. Domino packed quite a wallop.
“I’ll bite ya,” one of the kids, a boy, announced fiercely, “I swear to God!”
“Please don’t bite anyone else, Pugsy,” the other, a girl, pleaded. “That’s why they put us in the cage in the first place!”