Technomancer (Unspeakable Things: Book One)

shape.”
    “He’ll be…taken care of,” Rostok said.
    I glanced toward the shadow I knew was Rostok. He sat like a hulking cave bear in his overstuffed, leather-upholstered chair. I got up and poured myself a drink at his bar, dropping in three cubes of ice.
    “Such impudence,” Rostok said behind me.
    “Sorry. I’m hot and thirsty. It’s been a long day.”
    Rostok laughed. “Apparently! I’m more than impressed, Draith. You bring me back my chief agent, unarmed and barely alive. Not only have you defeated my best, but you have the balls to come here and flaunt it. I’m beginning to like you.”
    “Wish I could say the same,” I said, swigging my drink. “Do you want one?”
    “I’ll get my own, if you don’t mind.”
    “Suit yourself,” I said, taking a chair and sighing as I sat back and took another big swallow. The best part of these visits was the smooth alcohol. This man spared no expense when it came to booze.
    “You must tell me why you’ve come here…yet again.”
    I told him then of my adventures in the desert and my struggles with Robert and the Gray Men. I finished by describing my plans to take out whatever means the enemy used to step through into our territory with such impunity.
    “And if I don’t approve of your plans?”
    “I don’t know why you wouldn’t. We are on the same side, here. Humanity must unite, if only to fight off an inhuman invader.”
    “Quaint thoughts.”
    “You don’t agree?”
    “I do, to some extent. Always, it has been postulated that all men would stand together given the need. Unfortunately, this has not been my experience.”
    I sipped my drink in the dark. I didn’t like the way that sounded. “So, the Community is divided on what to do about the Gray Men?”
    “Absolutely. They are also divided concerning your fate.”
    I swirled the ice cubes around my glass. It was disappointingly empty. “Mind if I freshen this?”
    “Be my guest.”
    I hauled myself up and reloaded. The second glass tasted even smoother than the first.
    “I’m going to offer you something, Mr. Draith, but I want you to understand the stakes first.”
    “I’m listening.”
    “You have bested more than one of my people. I do not tolerate such failures in field agents. I find I’m in need of talented help. What you have to understand is that taking aposition with me is permanent and irreversible. There are many perks, however.”
    My mind was slightly hazy, in a good way. I realized he was offering me a job. I also realized he was threatening my life.
    “You had Bernie killed, didn’t you?” I asked.
    “He failed me.”
    I nodded. “Are you firing Robert Townsend also?”
    “He’s been taken care of.”
    I felt a tiny chill, despite the alcohol in my blood. “I need some answers before I commit,” I said. “How are these objects made?”
    Rostok didn’t answer right away. He heaved himself up, hulked past me, and began to assemble a drink for himself. When he was back in his chair, he sighed. “You ask too much.”
    “I’ve got a guess,” I said.
    He chuckled. “Tell me this guess.”
    I’d done a lot of thinking about the Gray Man’s finger I kept against my chest even now. The blood was still fresh, unwilling to flow out of the flesh. I knew that was impossible—but there it was. It had to have become an object in the cellar beneath the mansion, and the only strange processes that had occurred there were a number of rips.
    “One way the objects are made is when vortexes are formed,” I said, voicing my theory. “If they are stuck in between two places for a long time, a normal item might transform somehow into an object.”
    Rostok didn’t answer right away. “Who told you this theory?” he asked finally.
    His response indicated to me I was on the right track. I shifted in my chair, throwing one leg over the arm of it.
    “Meng,” I lied.
    “She is not usually so loose with information.”
    “So, she lives?” I asked, trying to sound unconcerned. Whether Rostok meant to do so or not, he’d confirmed my suspicions about the creation of these objects. They were forged by being caught between two existences.
    Rostok huffed. “You believed you had slaughtered one of the Community so easily?”
    “Of course not, I just wanted to make sure she was all right. Send her my apologies for the misunderstanding.”
    “Audacity and lies,” Rostok chuckled. “You are full of both, Draith! But as you guessed, objects can be made in this