Ground Zero Part 28
"Grail?"
"Figuratively speaking. It was supposedly a superweapon, imbued with the Otherness, that could destroy any living thing it came in contact with."
"You mean like John Agar in Hand of Death? Hand of Death?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. What I I am talking about is loosing something very destructive upon this world. But I've always believed it a myth, the equivalent of searching for the Philosopher's stone." am talking about is loosing something very destructive upon this world. But I've always believed it a myth, the equivalent of searching for the Philosopher's stone."
"Then why is it in Diana's Alarm?"
Veilleur leaned back and took a contemplative quaff of his stout.
"That's the disturbing part. An Alarm is often open to interpretation, but if she heard the word Fhinntmanchca Fhinntmanchca, then we have to a.s.sume that it might not be a myth, that the Adversary has learned how to create such a thing-and perhaps already succeeded."
"What's the danger?"
"Tradition says it will start the Change. The word means 'Maker of the Way.' It would allow the Otherness in so it can change this plane into a place more hospitable-for its own."
Jack shook his head. "Then why do people work for it?"
"They think they'll be rewarded, and kept safe. Perhaps they will be, but I doubt it."
"What about Ra-the Adversary?"
"He's different. He's the One. If the Otherness wins and begins the Change, he'll adapt to a compatible form. But his fellow travelers may not be so lucky." He sighed. "This is not good. I'm meeting shortly with the Lady. Perhaps she'll know something. Do you wish to join us?"
"The Lady? Sure. Haven't seen her since just after the Staten Island mess."
For the past couple of years women of all ages and shapes and sizes and nationalities had been stepping in and out of his life. They all knew more about him than they had any right to, and each was unfailingly accompanied by a dog. He'd a.s.sumed there were many of them, but Veilleur had told him a while back there was only one. He'd avoided telling Jack who or what she was. Maybe if he could sit down with her she'd tell him.
Veilleur pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote on a napkin.
"Here's my address. Between Sixty-third and Sixty-fourth. Meet me there at one."
One? h.e.l.l, he had to meet Weezy- An idea hit like a ten-gauge pumpkin ball.
"Can I bring a friend?"
Veilleur frowned. "I don't think that would be wise."
"She's already aware of the Secret History and she's got a brain like no one else's. I think she could be a big help."
"Why haven't you mentioned her before?"
"She was a childhood friend I haven't given a thought to in years, and suddenly she's popped back into my life."
"Childhood friend ..." he said, stroking his beard. "That wouldn't be Louise Connell, would it?"
Jack stared at him in shock. "How could you ... ?"
"Yes, I believe Miss Connell will make an interesting addition." He drained his stout and rose. "Can she be there at one o'clock?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Excellent." He turned and strode for the door. "See you then."
9.
Darryl's door swung open and someone said, "May we come in?"
He looked up from where he was sitting on his bed to see f.u.c.king Drexler standing there in his f.u.c.king white suit. He wanted to charge the son of a b.i.t.c.h, knock him down, beat the living s.h.i.t out of him.
But Darryl wasn't feeling so hot, and Drexler had his cane, and Hank was standing behind him.
"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Darryl said. "You sent me to that doctor and he told everyone. Ain't that against the law?"
"It most certainly is. And if you can identify the member of his staff who abrogated your right to privacy, I believe you'll have excellent grounds for legal action."
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"I have no idea. And whatever happens won't raise your standing with your fellow Kickers here, nor will it alter the course of your disease. But I may have an option for you in the latter regard."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I repeat my initial request: May we come in?"
Darryl waved them in. "Yeah, sure, whatever."
Drexler stepped inside, followed by Hank who closed the door behind them.
"Darryl," Drexler said, "I believe your AIDS can be cured."
"That's what the medical grifters say, but you and I know it ain't so."
"I am not offering an alternative crackpot therapy. I believe I can offer the real thing."
Darryl stared at him. "You can cure AIDS? Yeah? f.u.c.k you."
"I'm quite serious. But I don't mean that I can do it personally. I'm referring to the Orsa."
Darryl laughed-and had to admit it wasn't a nice sound.
"You're telling me that overgrown jelly bean in the bas.e.m.e.nt can cure AIDS? You must take me for some sort of royal, world-cla.s.s dumba.s.s."
"Well, not the Orsa itself, but ... remember the dark streak you saw inside it? It is an ancient, special compound. That That holds the cure." holds the cure."
Darryl shifted his gaze from Drexler to Hank. "This true?"
Hank shrugged. "I know as much as you do. I just heard about this a few minutes ago."
Back to Drexler. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. Tradition has it-"
A phone started ringing. Drexler pulled his cell from his pocket and stared at it, frowning.
"Excuse me. I must take this."
He stepped out into the hall and lowered his voice, but Darryl could still hear him.
"Finally, some good news ... Waste no time. I want you to see him immediately. Yes, you personally ... I don't care about that. You go see him, take whoever you wish, do whatever necessary to learn what he knows, then end this ... yes, that's just what I mean. I want this over and done with today. Today Today, is that clear? ... Good."
Drexler returned, looking less distracted.
"Where was I? Oh, yes. Tradition has it that the compound within the Orsa holds the cure to all diseases."
"Riiiiiight."
Drexler's turn to shrug. "I can but quote tradition: 'A night spent upon the Orsa compound will heal all wounds, cure all ills.' "
Darryl snorted. "Yeah. Like they had AIDS back then."
" 'All ills' is fairly comprehensive, don't you think?"
"Maybe. But 'a night spent'? What's that about?"
"You must spread the compound upon the surface of where you lie"-he pointed to Darryl's bed-"and sleep upon it. Spread it on your sheet."
"What? That's crazy!"
"Hey, Darryl," Hank said. "What's the downside?"
"Sleeping on some kinda dirt? You do it!"
Hank's expression was grim. "I've already done it-when I was down and out. And I'm not the one who's going to be out on the street tomorrow."
Yeah, well, there was that. One thing he didn't get, though ... He looked at Drexler. "Why are you doing this? You don't care about me. You're always trying to get me out of the room. Now you want to help? I don't get it."
"It is true I have tended to lose patience with you at times, but that doesn't mean I dislike you or wish you ill. Did I not arrange medical care for you as soon as I saw those suspicious lesions on your skin? I know you are valuable to Mister Thompson, and when I heard that he was being forced to evict you, I felt I had to act."
"He's offering you a chance, Darryl. This whole Orsa thing is so weird, it just might work."
Hank and Drexler stood before him, silent, waiting. City sounds drifted in from the street below as Darryl tried to make up his mind.
Seemed crazy, but what if it worked? How could he refuse? And even if it didn't, he couldn't see much downside except ...
Except that Drexler was offering it. Darryl knew he didn't give a s.h.i.t about him. He remembered the look on his face yesterday morning when he'd seen those spots. His interest had seemed almost gleeful and ... calculating.
Maybe it was nothing more than seeing Darryl as a guinea pig, a chance to try out the cure-all dust. If it worked, he'd have struck gold-a license to print money. And Darryl ... Darryl would be cured.
"Okay," he said. "Let's do it. Bring it on. Bring me this stuff and I'll bed down with it."
"It's not quite so simple as that," Drexler said. "There's a condition ..."
10.
"There?" Weezy said as they approached the canopied entrance to the apartment building on Central Park West. "He lives there there?"
Jack checked the address on the napkin: 34 CPW 34 CPW.
"That's what he gave me."
She stopped in her tracks. "I can't go in there like this. I mean, look at me."
She wore the same T-shirt and sweatpants as last night. No surprise. They were all she had left.
"You look fine."
She shook her head, looking around. "I've got to go buy something else. Of course, I've got no money."
Jack could front her whatever it cost, but that wasn't the point.
"You've got no time, either. He said one o'clock, and it's that now." He took her arm and pulled her forward. "He's not going to mind."
"You said you met him only a few months ago, and you never even knew where he lived until now, so how can you say he won't mind?"
Jack took a breath. He knew he'd have to be breaking the truth to her soon. Might as well be now.
"Because he's from the First Age."
She laughed. "So he's got no fashion sense, right? If that's supposed to make me feel better ..." She looked at him, studying his expression. "Wait, you are are kidding, right? You don't expect me to ... ?" kidding, right? You don't expect me to ... ?"
"Not kidding."
"But the First Age was supposed to be twelve, fifteen thousand years ago."
"Uh-huh."