figure out a way to feed it back to him later as his own opinion.
"And the places we control amp; they work. The Tirs, right here in the Zulu Nation, and everywhere else where our people are running the show. We protect the land, the environment. We've even used our magic to restore it from the ruin in which humans left it in so many places. Our technology's cleaner, safer, better. We know how to do all this for everyone's benefit. Everyone, right?"
"It would be hard to argue with that," Serrin said.
"And we elves have been here before, and most of all, we know that. Or some of us do. We take care of the world better because we know we're coming back. Not like humanity. They think they can poison the water, poison the air, dirty everything up because they don't care about the future. Just the here and now. They figure they've only got this one time around and so they'll use and abuse everything they can and frag everyone else, frag the future."
Magellan was practically shouting now.
He's obsessed, Serrin realized. He won't be able to tell illusion from reality, lies from truth, at this point. All I have to do is agree with him.
"It's true. You see it every day," Serrin said with some feeling, though he didn't think any particular race had a monopoly on thinking the world was made for them and the rest of creation be damned.
"Just think, Serrin, if we elves had control of the whole business. The whole wide world. We could really start cleaning it up, really make it work right. Like it used to be. Serrin, it's what the world needs and, and as elves, it's our destiny."
"I've always wished it was so," Serrin lied, knowing it was what the other elf wanted to hear. Magellan was kneeling on the floor beside him, virtually seeming to beseech him.
"You don't have to wish for it anymore, brother. It is. It is." No trideo evangelist had ever sounded more convinced.
That left Serrin with only one final thing he needed to know.
The streetlights had been shot out long ago and most of the buildings had collapsed into rubble. The place, which looked like the forgotten ruin of some war zone, was utterly unlike anything they'd seen in Azania until now, and the contrast was shocking. The cab crunched to a halt.
"I'm not going any farther," the ork driver told them. "I ain't replaced the bullet-proofing on my front side yet. Look, why don't you just let me take you somewhere nice, okay? Chips, dope, girls, boys, you name it. I know where it is. You're crazy fraggers to come down here."
"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Michael asked Kristen, drawing his Predator. She nodded.
"I don't know why I do this," he said distractedly, handing the driver his money. "Look, chummer, will you wait somewhere reasonably close? A bonus of five hundred if you'll wait for one hour. If we don't come back, check the Imperial tomorrow morning. You get half that just for being here, even if you don't pick us up."
"You get killed, I don't get nothing while I sit here for an hour like a devil rat just waiting for the trap to snap," the ork replied.
Michael handed him another bill. "Down payment. Where will you be?"
"Two blocks back, before that last robot. That's as close as I'll get. Anyone takes a pot-shot at me and I'm gone."
"Deal." Michael opened the back door and Tom and Kristen piled out with him. The cab sped off, wheels screaming as it careened around the corner.
"He doesn't much like it around here," Tom joked.
"Me neither," Michael said, only partly reassured by the SMG in the troll's hands. "Kristen, if this doesn't work out, we're going to have macro trouble here."
"I told you. Indra has a cousin who has another cousin and the money was enough. They'll be here."
Exactly on cue, a group of figures began to take shape from out of the darkness of the surrounding street. There were a dozen of them, more or less. They weren't armed with weapons of any real quality, but they had enough. It
was the assault cannon that finally reassured Michael, and the pistol under his nose that made up his mind for him.
"Ten thousand, buttbram," the dwarf snarled at him. "Everything up front. You pay for any street doc work afterward. Anyone gets scragged, that's five thou per. For the family."
Well, it's the family that got us this crew, Michael thought. Even if I have to pay for it twice over, it's probably worth it. He handed over the envelope.
"Every last cent," he said evenly. The dwarf counted it slowly, his expression saying that he'd have loved to find it short of the full amount.
"So, where is this place?"
"This way," Tom said. He was drawn to it as easily as if someone had marked it with a neon sign.
"Let's say, let's just imagine," Magellan waxed on, "that there's someone who can make it happen. Let's say he's got a way of guaranteeing we elves can have it all. Let's just imagine that for a moment."
"I can't," Serrin said. He rubbed his hands together as if anguished by the disappointment of it. "I mean, how? That's what matters, isn't it?"
Magellan's eyes flared with suspicion for a split second. Serrin stared directly at him, as if desperate to say, yes, yes, it's good, it's what I want, I just wish I could believe in it, and I could if only I knew how it could be done. Believe me.
"Let's say," Magellan said slowly, "that there's a way of changing humans. Making them quieter. More docile. Easier to control. Something that could eliminate the stupid violence in them. A pacifier. No more war. No more destroying everything we build. Let's imagine that."
"A drug," Serrin wondered aloud.
"Better. A permanent fix. Forever. In the genes, brother."
"But I can't see "
"You don't have to see! All you have to do is believe," Magellan cried out. "It's true. It's real."
"I do believe you," Serrin said fervently, thinking it wiser not to express any more doubts. "But why am I
here? What has all this to do with finding out who tried to kidnap me? I mean, that's all I was after."
Magellan nodded, biting his bottom lip, obviously trying to decide what to say next.
"Look. The elf who tried to kidnap you amp; he has certain needs. Special requirements. You know all that. Do you think he likes what he does? Do you think he wants to kill his own? Oh, brother, it pains him. It's the last thing he wants to do. But he has no choice. He's burning up, he's got to feed, and there aren't many left. It's his last option. God, how he must suffer."
Serrin didn't know whether to laugh or scream with rage. Him suffer, whoever he was?
"But why try to stop me from?
"Because you want revenge. But that you can't have. Mustn't have," Magellan whispered, his face centimeters away. His eyes had a wild look, his face now a grotesque mask. He had underestimated Serrin; he'd thought that Luther could easily dispose of the elf mage if he got too close, but Serrin and his friends had moved too fast. What else had they arranged? "He's the wonder, brother. He's the one who did it, don't you see? He's so close now, it's only another day or two more. It's nearly time amp; He's the one who's got "
The detonation threw Serrin against the wall and sent Magellan flying across the floor. Serrin's head slammed against the concrete so hard that his vision blurred; he could just barely make out Magellan dragging himself to his feet and stumbling for the door. Too groggy even to stand upright, Serrin was powerless to stop the red-haired elf as he grabbed the door handle and staggered out into the darkness. Gunfire crackled outside, and another cannon round hammered into the building somewhere behind him. Serrin half-rolled, half-fell off the bed and tried to drag himself underneath the metal frame for cover.