Angel stepped from behind the staircase, her beautiful face flushed. We both paused. There were no secrets between us anymore. Somehow the truth created a chasm lies couldn’t compare with. I was the first to look away.
A few paces over, a grim and bloody Selene tallied up the count of her fallen Gutter Girls. None of the dead included Kelly, Jen, or Christina. I don't know why I was glad of that, but I was. Rob helped Ms. Kilby support Poddar, who limped heavily.
I stooped down and patted Stinker on the head. "Guess you're all right after all."
She smiled.
A shadow fell over me, which was pretty damn irritating. I'd had enough of darkness. Stinker growled as I looked up at Tommy Tsunami. “Something you need?”
"You destroyed the Grimoire.”
"Yeah, well that just breaks my ticker, Tommy. Guess whatever secrets they held died with those freaky glowing pages.”
“We both know the book was only a façade. It was the thermal orb that was important. The potential of that energy was practically limitless. I take it you destroyed that too.”
“You can take it however you want, Tommy. You’re welcome for saving your rather stuffy ass.”
"You've always had a penchant for gumming things up. Don’t think I don’t know you set me up at the Hideout. You warned Selene to get out, but left me to the tender mercies of the boys in black. I lost a lot of men back there."
“You outta upgrade to synoids. At least they come with a data backup.”
His expression grew even darker, if that was possible. “Your humor is ill-appreciated. I knew it was a mistake to let you run loose in New Haven. Despite your memory loss, you’re still too dangerous to be allowed to live.”
"That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Tommy boy. We outta skip out to the Gaiden and sit down, sip something, and gab about it. No wait — didn’t a fire break out there last night?"
His eyes narrowed. "Goodbye, Troubleshooter. We won’t meet again.” I saw the gold-plated Beretta in his gloved hand at the last second.
I was almost as surprised as he was when the blade erupted from his chest. Almost. His eyes widened as he tried to turn, but he was just too dead by that time. His body slammed into the ground beside me, staring with uncharacteristic shock.
“That was for my leg.” Selene flicked the blood off the blade before sheathing it.
I accepted her helpful hand and slowly stood. “Much obliged, darling. I thought you couldn’t bump off another member of the Gestalt. Made men, and all that.”
“He was only an agent of ours. Surely you didn’t believe a mere gangster could enter our inner circle. He was a loose end and he had it coming. How are you?” She looked at me calmly, but flickers of unease were visible in the emerald cuts of her eyes. I didn’t blame her.
“Still living,” I said.
"My God.” Beck had regained consciousness and stared at the remains of his mansion. Aside from a light head wound, he seemed to be okay.
Too bad the same couldn't be said of his fancy digs. He didn’t seem to care too much about that, though. Insurance has its purposes, after all. He scuttled on his knees, helplessly gathering up the smoking remains of the Grimoire’s pages.
"The Grimoire… destroyed. Do you have any idea of what was lost in those pages? They were more than the mutterings of madmen. Within the ciphers was technology so advanced it would seem as magic to us. Perhaps the secrets to sustainable power sources, or ways to properly expand beyond the boundaries of the Haven. Now all of it is lost.” He actually looked on the verge of tears.
I’m pretty good at derisive snorts. I gave my best one yet. “Is that what Dr. Faraday told you when he sold you the book?”
His head snapped up. “What are you—?”
“It’s elementary, my dear Mayor. How better to conceal his orb than in plain sight? You’re known to be an avid collector, and he ran that mystical bunk over your head to prevent you from tinkering with the book, which was nothing more than an over-decorated lockbox. Joke was on you. You had something of value, all right. Just not what you figured.”
Beck appeared on the verge of an all-out cardiac arrest. “And now it’s… destroyed?”
“You can try picking the pieces out of the New Man’s chest. What’s left of him, anyway.”
“So much potential — eradicated.” He sagged visibly.
“Hard to get all wet in the eyes when the city just got saved, Mr. Beck. You know — the folks right here in New Haven? Figure that makes it worth the cost.”
He winced as his butler applied a poultice to his forehead. “You sound like a different man, Mr. Trubble. Perhaps some… revelations have come to you?”
“I remember a few things now, so yeah. Not enough to do anything about it, though.”
“It’s probably for the best. There are things too dangerous for the wrong people to know about. Or to share with others.” He gave me a meaningful glance.
“Not to worry, Mayor. I don’t see any profit in rocking boats.”
“A wise outlook.” He sighed. “It’s too bad Dr. Faraday met his end at the hands of his own creation. What tragic irony. He never could see New Haven for what it is. Instead, he tried to destroy it with this… New Man creature.” He shook his head sadly.
I didn’t say a word. Because either Beck was an outstanding actor, or he really had no clue as to who controlled the New Man. And if Beck didn’t, then who did?
He looked regretfully at his ruined digs. “Whatever secrets Dr. Faraday possessed died along with him. More’s the pity.”
I took the last drag from my gasper. “Well, may he and his secrets rest in pieces.”
Chapter 20: Hard to Say Goodbye
I hate goodbyes. It was half an hour past the hosers and button boys ‘taking control’ of the scene, an hour past getting blasted on the Glenfiddich Scotch that Mayor Beck had stashed in his massive bar. Over a century unopened, and guaranteed to make friends out of uneasy allies in no time. Hell, after about fifteen minutes I was arm in arm with Jen, Kelly and Christina, the same Gutter Girls who’d tried to deflower my manliness only hours earlier.
But in the middle of all of the hullabaloo, I was aware of the eyes on me. I had a feeling Beck knew I was holding back some info. Selene kept looking my way as well. And as much as I’d like to chalk it up to my rugged good looks, I figured she was trying to figure out if I was the next target for that long razor blade she carried. I had knowledge now, and like the Doc said: sometimes it isn’t power. Sometimes it’s just something to get smoked over.
Then there was that nagging feeling which rattled around the back of my skull. It was a familiar feeling.
Like unfinished business.
“Going somewhere?”
I looked at Angel. Figures she could read my mind. All the best dames can.
“Got me a few last minute details to take care of, darling. Don’t wait up.”
“You already know I won’t.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me softly. It had the bittersweet taste of farewell to it. I knew just like she did that whatever we had was a footnote in history. But when she turned, she had a smile on her face. And that’s about all I can hope for.
A kiss and a smile when a dame walks away.
I managed to duck the button boys and the newsbots flashing cameras. Figured Poddar, Kilby and Rob could take of themselves. Like I said, I hate goodbyes.
When I cleared the bashed in gates of Beck’s driveway, a familiar ride waited for me. A cherry-red wheeler. When the door opened, I hopped in like I expected the lift.