The Sins of the World

by David Hearne

CHAPTER ONE

THINK THOU NO EVIL OF THY CHILD

I could see and hear beauty in everything around me. A waterfallplayed a hypnotic symphony on a lake. The ripples on the lake'ssurface spent their short lives in drawing perfect circles. Naturehad painted the cavern walls with both brilliant and subtle colorscarefully drawn from buried minerals. Even the very space of the widecavern had the quality of a painting.

And there was my father sitting at the shore of the lake. Hisexistence was as much a poem as the one he was reading. His clotheswere anachronistic but utterly suitable for him. His clawed hands andlion's face spoke of the violence he could commit, but the gentle waywith which he held the book and the fascination in his eyes for thewords spoke of his peaceful, refined soul. He was a work of art witha message that brute strength could find a companion in love.

I was inspired. I had to add some poetry of my own to this greatscene. I opened my mouth and declared in a ringing voice --

"And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus

Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with

Straight from the motherfucking slums that's busted

Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin..."

"Jacob?"

"Yes, Father?"

"That'll be enough."

I grinned. "Just droppin' some flava."

"I appreciate that, but I'm trying to read Shakespeare. Rap lyricsdon't go very well with him."

"Are you kidding? If he were alive today, he'll be writing doperhymes for Snoop Dogg."

"Your cynicism is impressive, my son."

"Are you trying to tell me that 'My mind on my money, and my moneyon my mind' is not better than 'But, sir, methinks you walk like astranger?'"

"I agree that was not one of Shakespeare's better lines. However,I am reading one of his finest works here."

I looked at the book's cover. "The Sonnets?" I snorted. "Gee,Father, why don't you read 'The Second Coming' and 'The Rime of theAncient Mariner?' As long as you're going to read what a hundredthousand people have already read."

"I wasn't aware that a poem's quality was measured by itsobscurity."

"Well, I'm just tired of writers quoting some classic poetry everysemi-literate person knows. That's why I stopped reading Robert B.Parker."

Father looked up from his book and said, "If my choice ofliterature bores you, then you can leave."

I gave Father another grin and turned to the lake. As I skipped apebble across its surface, I said, "Read to me."

In that gentle yet resonant voice he said --

"How like a winter hath my absence been

From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!

What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,

What old December's bareness everywhere!

And yet this..."

I threw a large rock into the water. The smack sounded likebreaking glass. Father stopped reading. I wasn't looking at him, butI could feel his concerned eyes watching me.

"Pretty cheery selection, dad," I muttered.

"I'm sorry."

I turned to him. Father had closed the book. He waited for me tospeak.

I said, "'And thou away, the very birds are mute/ Or if they sing,'tis with so dull a cheer/ That leaves look pale, dreading thewinter's near.'" I smiled weakly. "You're not the only one who hasbeen reading the Sonnets."

Father stood up and walked toward me. "You have not lostAlexandra," he said.

"It's been two months since I've seen her. When can I officiallycall it a loss?"

"You must wait, Jacob. Her situation is...delicate."

"Then maybe I should make a move."

Father's expression changed from sympathetic to stern. "I hopeyou're not serious."

I made no response.

"I thought you had learned the value of patience. Was Iwrong?"

"I'm not going to barge into 817 again, okay? But I don't see whyI should do nothing. And that goes for all of us."

"What do you mean?"

"This community came within an inch of irreversibly pissing offthe world's most powerful secret society."

Father raised his eyebrows.

"All right, I came within an inch of irreversibly pissing off theworld's most powerful secret society. But the fact remains that theTower looks upon us as a threat simply because we know about them. Dowe just sit here and hope the hammer never falls?"

Father looked down at the book and rubbed his thumbs on its cover.When he raised his eyes to me, he said, "This community is a shelter,not an army. We don't even like to strike back in defense..."

"What do you mean 'we,' paleface?"

Father smiled briefly. "You know what I mean."

"Yes. I do. And I've learned to appreciate that. But can't we doanything besides wait for the Tower to make a move?"

"For the moment...no."

"Well, you've been thinking about what that move could be?Right?"

Before Father could answer, Pascal came running into the cavern.Both Father and I were surprised to see him. We were even moresurprised to hear him say, "There's a message." Pascal hardly everleft the Pipe Chamber during his working hours and even more rarelycame in person to relay a message.

So this had to be big. And it was.

Pascal took a breath, then said to me, "It's from Edward Bradbury.He wants to meet you tonight."

Father and I looked at each other. "First move," I said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The smell of curry and the sound of recorded tablas greeted me asI entered the small restaurant. I stood at the entrance and saw oneof the powerful men in the world. He was eating a dinner at one ofthe tables.

I walked up to him. The smell of curry got stronger. EdwardBradbury had selected the spiciest dish that the kitchen of East inthe West could make. When he looked up and spoke, I expected histhroat to be hoarse. Instead his voice had the same soft, tired tonesI had heard months ago.

"Evening, Jacob," he said. "Would you like me to order somethingfor you?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?" He smiled slightly. "You know I can affordit."

"I'm still not hungry."

He shrugged and said, "Please, sit."

I seated myself on the chair across from him. I watched Bradburyas he bit into a chunk of lamb covered with the feverish brown sauce.His eyes did not water and his nose did not run. He chewed the curryas if it were mashed potatoes, but delicately. He didn't let one dropof sauce land on the tabletop or his impeccably tailored suit.

"This is a good little restaurant," he said after swallowing. "Ihad never heard of it until we first met here. Of course, that wasthe first time we had ever met anywhere."

I nodded as I remembered seeing Bradbury in this restaurant longago with his head of security. The latter man was dead now, killedby...

"Alexandra," Bradbury said, "is why I asked for a meeting."

"I didn't think you wanted to talk sports. By the way, how longhave you known about the pipes?"

"It was a logical inference about your community. We knew you hadsome means of communication. After listening to the pipes for amonth, we eventually deciphered your code."

"When you say 'we...'"

"The Tower, of course."

"I guess your intelligence and security hasn't suffered sinceCrown died."

"We found a very competent man to replace him. Of course, you knowwho I wanted for a replace..."

"Look, are we going to gab about old times, or are you going totell me what the hell you want me for?"

Bradbury placed the fork on his plate and stuck a hand underneathhis jacket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. He extended it tome. I accepted it.

Bradbury had given me a news clipping. I read it quickly andabsorbed the main points. A man named Sobukwe Masilela had beenkilled in South Africa. He had been the chairman of Baba Industrieswhich specialized in providing private security for millionaires andcorporations. He had been shot in the head.

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?" I asked.

"Masilela's company had been secretly connected to some veryunpleasant groups. It assassinated protesters against the oilcompanies in Nigeria. While the Hutu militias slaughtered Tutsis inRwanda, Masilela was creating political connections with them. At thetime of his death, Baba Industries was covertly supplying arms to theJanjaweed."

"Okay, I get it. He was a bad dude. Sounds like somebody elsecaught up with him."

"That somebody was us."

I glanced at the news clipping, then looked at Bradbury. "He was athreat to the Tower?"

Bradbury paused, then said, "Not yet. But a source convinced theNobles that Masilela would have eventually endangered the Tower'ssecurity. As on all the continents, we have certain shelters inAfrica that need protecting."

"Yeah, I know how nervous you guys can get about that sort ofthing."

Bradbury paid no attention to my sarcasm. "However, I'm not sureif Masilela was a potential problem, much less one that neededassassination. After all, we could have destroyed Baba Industries byleaking proof of their criminal activities. However, our sourceinsisted that Masilela would have been a threat to us as long as helived."

"I don't think you guys need much prodding to whack anybody."

"On the contrary, Jacob, our experiences with you have taught theNobles and me that murder -- especially a blatant assassination suchas this -- can draw attention to us."

"I'm sure Russ Garner would have appreciated your new maturity." Ileaned forward and placed my elbows on the table. "Look, could youtell me what this has to do with Alexa..."

I stopped talking. Bradbury regarded my look of realization with aseeming mildness.

"She told you to kill Masilela?" I whispered.

"She predicted that Baba Industries would have become powerfulenough in its region to harm our interests. And that the Towercouldn't risk doing business with Masilela."

I needed many seconds before I could speak. "I guess...she wouldknow."

"Yes, she would, wouldn't she?"

I remembered something Bradbury had said. "But you're not sure," Isaid, pointing a finger at him.

Bradbury took a breath, then said, "No. A few of Nobles probablyaren't sure, either. For one thing, Alexandra did not explainprecisely how Masilela could become a threat."

"But this is the woman who predicted 9/11 to the very day."

"That's right. However, six months ago her word alone would havenot convinced the Nobles. They certainly would have listened to her,but not let her dictate policy. Since a certain incident, though, shehas become quite intimidating."

I closed my eyes, but there was no escape from a memory of fangsand severed flesh. Past the darkness of my lowered eyelids, Bradburysaid, "How long she'll be intimidating is an unansweredquestion."

I opened my eyes. "You were there when she...when it happened. Doyou think the Nobles will let go of their fear easily?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. But...what if they decided that she didn'tarrange the kill to protect the Tower?"

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest. "Youthink she was just trying to put down a bastard."

"It's a possibility. And you know that the Nobles are notinterested in righting wrongs."

"Definitely. So, if Masilela wasn't a threat to the Tower..."

"Then Alexandra manipulated us into going against our beliefs. Ifthe Nobles learn that's true, then they may get over their fear ofher."

Bradbury didn't say anything else for a minute. Neither did Iwhile I brooded on many things.

Finally Bradbury said, "How do you feel about the twopossibilities here?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Let's say that Alexandra was telling the truth about Masilela. Itmeans that she accepts the High Tower's philosophy. If she wasn'ttelling the truth, then she has been playing vigilante, like youhave."

"I've never killed anyone," I replied quickly.

"That's why I'm asking how you feel."

I tightened my fists hidden under my elbows. I had been dreading amoment like this ever since Alexandra had sank her fangs into Crown'sneck. As a wise man told me, you can't kill anybody without becomingchanged. Alexandra had crossed a line when she killed Crown. What wasshe doing now on the other side of that line? Would I see a differentperson than the one I loved if I knew the answer?

I struggled for a proper response to Bradbury's question until Iremembered who he was. "I don't think you're interested in myfeelings," I told him.

"I am to the extent that I need your help. And you're the only onewho's willing to help me. Or, rather, help Alexandra."

I knew Bradbury's motives could hardly be that simple. He couldnever miss an opportunity to work a cold agenda into a privateconcern. At the same time, he loved Alexandra. She was his one softspot. God knows what kind of bastard he would have become if he hadnever raised her. He was a pretty big bastard with her.

In the end, though, he was Alexandra's father and I was -- in anodd way -- her lover. At the very least, I could listen to whatBradbury had in mind. "What do you need me to do?" I askedwarily.

"I'm going to encourage her to meet with you." He raised a fingerto silence my expected response. "No one will object to you twomeeting now."

"Except her."

"No. Her least of all, and you know that."

I paused, then said, "Okay. So we meet. Then what?"

"Then you do whatever you want to do."

"Gee, thanks, Dad."

"I mean it, Jacob," Bradbury said with abrupt firmness. "I don'tcare what you two do together, just as long you find out the truthabout Masilela."

"You mean, trick her into telling me."

"Trick her, convince her, whatever. Or figure it out indirectlyfrom things she says or does."

"So I should be a sneak with the woman I love."

"Yes."

"I can't do that."

"If you want to help Alexandra, then you'd better get over yourqualms."

"It's not just a question of my 'qualms.' We're talking about awoman who can figure out all the crap you've done in your life justby looking at you. She'll know my motives if I start to pick herbrain."

"She's an extraordinary talent, Jacob, but she's not a machine.Her emotions can cloud her gift."

Shit, I thought. I knew that. "And you think she'll be so glad tosee me that she won't sense this little meeting you and I had? Hell,she might not even need her gift. What is she to think when yousuddenly propose this idea of yours?"

"It won't be a sudden decision. I had suggested many times beforeMasilela's death that the two of you should see each otheragain."

"Really," I said in a flat voice.

Bradbury gave me a look that might be described as sympathetic."If you had accepted my offer, then you could have been with herright now."

"You know what, Eddie? I almost did. She stopped me."

Bradbury looked down at his plate. He stuck his fork into a pieceof lamb, but didn't eat it. "If she declines to meet with you," hesaid with his eyes still looking down, "then I need a new plan.However, you are my best means of finding out why she arrangedMasilela's execution." He raised his eyes. "You want to know why,too."

And I just plain want to see her, I added silently. I had beenpraying every night for such an encounter. I had to hear her voiceagain, even if I had to confront her darkness as well. Loving her hadendangered my life and the lives of my family, but the desire for hercouldn't leave me. So here I was again, letting a snake into myheart.

"I'll do it," I told Bradbury. "But there's only one place wherewe can meet."

Bradbury raised the chunk of lamb to his mouth. "I suspected asmuch," he told me before he fed the incidenary meat into hismouth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You want her to come here?"

"I want her to feel that she can trust me."

"Can she?"

Grandfather addressed this question to me in his chambers. Fatherwas in the chambers as well. Both of them were watching me withconcern.

I stood briefly in uncomfortable silence before Grandfather'squestion, then said, "My intentions are the same as always. I want toprotect her. And to protect her I need to know what's going on in herhead."

"And what will you do if you find out?"

"Grandfather, I have no goddamn idea at all. But it's better thanworking in the dark."

Grandfather scratched his gray mustache as he sat in a chair.Father stood near the chair with his hands crossed in front ofhim.

"Couldn't you just ask her for the truth?" Grandfatherwondered.

"I may end up doing just that. However, I'm not going to doanything so blunt if it risks her shutting me out."

"So you do plan to tell Bradbury what you learn?"

"Unless I can suddenly get control over the Tower, he's the onlyone who can protect her." I sighed and leaned against a bookshelf."The High fucking Tower..."

"Yes. I know." For once, Grandfather didn't mind that I wascursing.

"If I could go back and do things differently..."

"You are not to blame for this situation, Jacob, no matter howstupidly you behaved."

"You're all heart, Gramps."

Grandfather turned to his son. "What do you say, Vincent?"

"I want," Father said, "to meet the woman my son loves."

Grandfather smiled and looked at me. "So do I. So do all theDwellers."

"Well, get ready for what she looks like."

"Jacob, if there's any place where she can be accepted..."

"I grew up here, but I still freaked out when I first sawher."

Grandfather nodded. "Granted. We'll warn the others."

"Okay. Well...if you don't mind, I'll like to get some sleep."

"It's still early."

"I'm not so inclined to stay up late nowadays." Or to do thethings I used to do, I thought. That second part went without saying.The other two men used to look away from some of my questionableactivities.

"You know," I said, "I can't express how much I appreciate you twostanding by me."

"And we hope you'll always stand by us."

"Of course I will." I walked over to Grandfather and squeezed hisshoulder. "I know I haven't been the best Dweller..."

"We want to be worthy of your trust, Jacob."

"You always have been." I turned to Father. "Both of you."

Father held out his arms. I pressed myself against his thickchest, just as I had done as a child. When we pulled apart, I askedif Diana had returned.

"Not yet," Father said. "She's still working on a case out of thecity."

"All right. Good night, then."

Father and Grandfather wished me good night in return. I leftFather's chambers. Halfway between there and my own chambers Istopped. Grandfather had said something...something about beingworthy of my trust...what did he mean...

I casually squashed my doubt. I was about to proceed to mychambers when I heard voices. One of them jabbered; the otheroccasionally broke into the flow of talk with a confidentutterance.

I waited for the owners of the voices to reach me. I wasn'tsurprised to see Mouse and Jamie. I was surprised to see them dressedfor Above. Being a woman after my own heart, Jamie was dressed in ablack leather jacket and jeans. Mouse wore corduroy pants, a tweedjacket, and a T-shirt with Albert Einstein's face printed on it. Healso wore a long gray scarf. I have a prejudice against men wearinglong scarves. With Mouse, however, such apparel seemedunpretentious.

Mouse abruptly stopped his excited discourse when he saw me. "Youlook worried," he said without so much as a hello.

I said, "Um...well..."

"Hi, Jacob," Jamie said. "And you do look a littledistracted."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"What's up?"

Jamie and Mouse knew about the High Tower, but I didn't want toburden them with my extra problems at the moment. "Nothing you needto worry about," I said. "Going Above?"

"Yeah," Mouse said. "We need a break."

"From what?"

"Just stuff," Jamie said before Mouse could speak.

I nodded, then said, "Well, I hope you have..."

"Want to come along?" Mouse interrupted. "We're going toKnucklebones."

"Knucklebones?" I laughed, then said to Jamie, "Are you trying tocorrupt him?"

"It's impossible to corrupt him," Jamie replied as she pinchedMouse's cheek.

Mouse scowled and batted her hand away. "Why do people treat melike I'm Forrest Gump? I am not Forrest Gump."

Jamie leaned close to Mouse. "You're not Forrest Gump," she saidsweetly. "I doubt he would be as good in the sack as you are." Thenshe kissed Mouse, and his scowl changed into a big smile.

"Ooooo-kay," I said. "I'll leave you two..."

"Come with us," Jamie said to me. "You look like you could use alittle R&R." She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe we can get youlaid."

"Goodness me, could you?" Of course, Jamie knew that I had passedthe point of virginity a long, long time ago. In fact, during thelast time I had been in Knucklebones I had sex in its stinky bathroomwith a redhead whose name I couldn't remember.

"Come with us," Mouse requested. "It'll be fun."

"I'm not sure if I will be fun."

"Please?" Mouse gave me a look which caused me to forget that hewas in his thirties. Looking back at our early years together, I'mnot sure if he had been my childhood companion or if I had been hischildhood companion.

In the end, I couldn't resist both Jamie and Mouse. "All right," Isaid.

If I had been listening carefully at the time, I could have heardlaughter. I had inspired the same laughter when I had gone to a usedbookstore months ago and chosen the wrong book to read. It was thesound of Destiny who could have told me that this casual decisionwould soon make my complicated life even more complicated.

I'm going to kick Destiny in the balls one of these days, Iswear.

Continued in chapter 2