I paused in mid-retort. "Wait — Natasha told you?"
"That's right. It was the main reason she joined the Academy — to work at uncovering the truth. Now she's digging into the disappearance of your former partner."
"The Academy — as in the police? You're telling me that Natasha is wearing a shield? Don't make me laugh, kid."
"Just graduated, actually," he said. "A lot has changed since you retired, Mr. Trubble. I don't really approve of Natasha's choice of employment, but I can't tell her that without sounding chauvinistic if you know what I mean."
"I don't." My head throbbed as I tried to digest the new information. "And I don't care whether she's flashing a badge or not — she's not ready for something like whatever's happened to Poddar. She should have called me as soon as she heard."
"That's exactly what I told her."
I scrubbed a hand across my chin. "Maybe I misjudged you a bit, Matt. Tell ya what — you keep a close eye on Natasha like you've been doing. Anything dangerous comes up, you give me a ring. She doesn't know what she's getting into. People have died to keep this Haven's secrets intact. You both are safer calling this whole thing off."
He stared at me uncomprehendingly. "We can't. It's a movement, like I said. The truth is coming out whether people like it or not. And it's not just this Haven, either. My people have recovered video feed of a general claiming that he was screwed over in the Red War, sworn to secrecy to cover up what really—"
I glanced over his shoulder, spotting a familiar figure in the crimson-lit hallway. "This ain't over, kid. Keep Natasha outta harm's way if you know what's good for you. And if you remember anything, remember to call me when it all goes south on you. And it will — trust me."
"Where are you going?"
"To see one of the few folks in here with a face prettier than yours." I brushed past him and strode into the hallway, where Selene waited for me.
She leaned casually against the floral-patterned wallpaper, dressed in classy chic from her stiletto boots to the fashionable veiled pillbox hat atop her frosted blond hair. Sparkling jewels adorned her blazer shoulders and the gloved hand holding a grappa glass filled with brown liquor.
Her emerald irises locked onto my face. "Mick. Nice to see you again."
"Thanks for showing up, Selene. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Congratulations, of course. A year of peace in New Haven. Who would have thought it would be possible?"
I laughed it off. "Why does everyone think I got something to do with any of that? I just mind my own business and try to live a quiet life."
"To a quiet life. For the short while it lasts." She lifted her drink.
"I'm afraid I'm a drink shy, sweetheart."
"Don't worry — I've got plenty." She raised the glass to her rosebud lips and sipped before passing it to me.
I raised it in salute. "To minding my own business." I downed the contents — and nearly died from the savage afterburn. Coughing and rubbing my throat, I glared at her amused expression. "What the hell kind of drink is that — rat poison?"
"Crippler," she said with a sly smile. "A little Stroh Jagertee, rye whiskey, rhum agricole, mezcal, yellow Chartreuse, and some bitters. It's an acquired taste."
I roughly cleared my throat. "I'd say. Why don't you just toss in some shotgun pellets while you're at it?"
"I thought you liked your drinks strong. Especially since it's the last one we'll share together."
I smirked. "Why, are you going somewhere? Or am I going somewhere?" I squinted at the remains of the drink. "This is poison, isn't it?"
She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm going to miss you, Mick."
I studied her expression, realizing she was serious. "You're leaving New Haven? Why?"
"Because New Haven is finished. It was an interesting experiment, but like all simulations, it's come to its end. The Destroyer is on his way, Mick. And once he's here, everything about this Haven will change. I hate to break it to you on your big night, but I know you prefer it neat."
I rubbed my throbbing temples. "What in the world are you talking about? The Destroyer? What is he — some gonzo threat like the New Man? I don't have the patience for these kinds of games anymore. Who is this guy, and how come he's got you all shook like this?
"His name is Kilgore." She paused, searching my face as if looking for a reaction. "He's a nihilist, wreaking havoc and leaving a trail of bodies from Mars to Earth, all in the name of a personal vendetta. He's coming for the god code, and that means he's coming for you."
I kept my expression as neutral as possible. "Then he's coming for nothing because I don't know anything about any god code."
"Of course you don't." She gave my cheek an affectionate pat. "Keep that bravado intact, Mick. Maybe it will keep you alive when the end comes. Maybe it's what's kept you alive this entire time."
"What's with all the gloom and doom, Selene? You're as tough as they come, and I can't believe this Kilgore character is bad enough to force you to abandon New Haven."
"That's because you don't know what I know, Mick."
"Then tell me."
"What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?"
"A paradox. Neither one exists."
"Or one has to give way to the other. And if that's the case, the results would be catastrophic. I don't want to be around for the fallout."
"And this Kilgore — is he supposed to be the unstoppable force? What's the immovable object in your little analogy?"
She tilted her head, studying me. "Why don't you come with me? I'll fill you in on all the details."
"You mean just pack it in and leave New Haven, just like that?"
"Why not? You're a valuable asset, and there's nothing here for you, Mick. There never was. Whatever you were meant to do, you've done it. Time to move on. Time to face the real world."
"No, thanks."
She tilted her head. "You're afraid, aren't you? Afraid of what's beyond the barrier. Like a prisoner acclimated to his cell, you've adapted to existence in this environment of smoke and mirrors."
"Maybe I have. I know who I was, Selene. The things I did before I came here. I'm never going back to that."
Her expression saddened. "You won't have a choice. So long as you stick to being Mick Trubble, you'll always be incomplete. And you will need to be whole if you want to survive. It's the only way you'll have a fighting chance."
I folded my arms. "I guess we'll see."
"I won't. Nincs drágább az idönél, as they say in my homeland."
"And that means…?"
"Time is fleeting. Enjoy your night, Mick Trubble. Celebrate, drink, and make love to your little wildcat before your world goes up in flames. I'm leaving my departure position where you can find it. You have twenty-four hours to take me up on my offer. After that, no one will be able to save you from what's coming."
She turned and strode away, shadowed by two leather-clad bodyguards I hadn't noticed earlier. A few quick steps and she was gone, leaving only the scent of her perfume to confirm she'd been there at all.
Glancing at the bottom of the glass, I saw the position point she mentioned. A speck small enough to stick to the center of my fingerprint turned out to be a GPS microchip. Swiping it across my holoband downloaded the info, not that I'd ever use it. Just because Selene lost her mind didn't mean I had to join the party.
Ben the Bear's voice spoke from behind me. "Hey, Mick."
"What's up, Benny?"
"Got some mook thinks he can gab with you."
I turned around and groaned. Ben the Bear took up most of the hallway with his massive girth, but right behind him was the HSSC agent, studying me with sharp eyes.
Benny gave me a questioning look. "You want I should show this lug the door?"
"Not yet, Benny. You go ahead and catch a spin with one of the lookers over there. I'll handle this."