“Really? Then why are we here right now? Why are you holding these people hostage?”
Multi’s smile almost made Malcolm wish that he hadn’t asked the question. He still had an intensity to him that Malcolm remembered in his old boss, but it was rough and raw now, like an old table with the polish sanded off.
“It’s just a feature of power,” said Multi. “To be honest, I think it’s impossible for a normal human to understand. Perhaps you could understand some of it, gifted as you are. The only thing becoming a demon did was confirm a sense of entitlement that had already been there.”
“So you feel entitled,” said Malcolm. “What are you, a child?”
“No, no more than Cortez, or Columbus, or any of the other explorers who conquered the new world were. I’m just somebody with the power to make things happen. All of my actions will make sense, when viewed in a historical context.”
“You’re insane,” said Malcolm.
Multi chuckled and took the insult as an invitation to continue.
“I think democracy, equal rights, the whole dream of western civilization is fundamentally incompatible with the modern world we live in. There’s too much of a power gap between a normal human, and someone like me. Or someone like you, even.”
“There have always been the strong and the weak,” said Malcolm. “Our gifts change nothing.”
“You can say that, but it doesn’t make it true,” said Multi. “This isn’t like the difference between someone healthy and someone sick. This is more like the difference between man and the lesser apes.”
Malcolm was shaking without realizing it. He didn’t want to hear any more of what Multi had to say. He felt sick to his stomach as much from the monster’s words as he did from the fear he was striking into the hearts of the passengers. Multi was watching him carefully, his expression cold and unreadable.
“How many copies did you really make of yourself, Wind Runner?” he asked. “Tell me the real number. I know it wasn’t just one.”
Malcolm hesitated for a split second. He hoped Multi hadn’t noticed.
“Four,” he said. “One of them is trailing me right now. He’ll attack if I give the symbol.”
Multi burst out laughing.
“Well, I suppose a bad lie is better than no lie, in a desperate situation,” he said. “I’m better at this game than you are, Wind Runner. You think you know how to play… but you don’t.”
Multi reached an arm out. Malcolm flinched back, only barely managing to subdue his instinct to attack. Multi reached over Malcolm’s head and pulled the line to signal the bus driver to stop.
The bus driver sank into the steering wheel as he stopped the bus, despair obvious in his body language. Multi cleared his throat, stood up, and started walking down the aisle without a word.
He got off the bus, walked to a nearby car, and climbed into the passenger seat. Dazed as he was, Malcolm had just enough sense to commit the model and license number to memory. All around him, the few who’d managed to keep their cool through the hostage situation were now openly crying, finally giving in to their terror.
CHAPTER 12
Malcolm slipped away before the police showed up. Despite his concern for his shoulder, he decided to walk. He passed through Vanderbrook aimlessly for a while, thinking over their conversation and trying to guess at Multi’s intentions.
Was that just to throw me off balance? Or did he get information from me that was more valuable than I realized?
He tried to text Second Wind, but his copy was apparently too busy to get back to him in a timely manner. Rose had given him a phone number to get in touch with her, but Malcolm wasn’t sure if it belonged solely to her, or was a line she shared with the other sprytes.
Malcolm still wasn’t sure how much he could trust Shield Maiden. He hadn’t gotten a chance to confirm any of the information she’d given him. It was possible that she was still working with Multi, and she’d told him what she had in order to manipulate him.
Possible, but unlikely. Still, I doubt I can trust anyone other than myself, and maybe Rose, for help.
He included Second Wind within that category, even as different as they were becoming. The fact that he secretly had a copy of his own made the odds against Multi and his army of doppelgangers feel slightly more even. It gave him options and he hoped it made Multi wary. What else could his questions relating to Second Wind have meant?
Unable to reach Second Wind and unwilling to try the number Rose had given him, Malcolm bought some food from a street vendor and spent the afternoon in a park. As the sun began to set he headed toward Terri’s Tavern. He was too paranoid from his encounter with Multi and too unsure about the intel Shield Maiden had given him to try anything on his own.
The woman from the night before was sitting alone at the bar again. Malcolm paused at the entrance and debated whether he was interested in talking to her. His legs made the choice for him, and he took the stool next to her. She turned and smiled at him as he sat down. She was dressed as alluringly as she had the night before and Malcolm noticed specks of glitter on her tanned cheeks.
“Good evening,” she said. “I guess you are a regular here, after all.”
“And apparently so are you.” Malcolm accepted a beer from Scribe as she brought it over. He let out a sigh and took a long drink from it.
“Did you come here again tonight to see me?” asked the woman.
The question made Malcolm think of Rose. He’d been seeing her less and less frequently lately. Between her and Tapestry, he’d gone from having too many women to handle, to teetering on the edge of loneliness.
“No,” he said, answering the woman’s question. “But I’m sure most guys would have, so, don’t take that the wrong way.”
“See, that’s what I like about you,” said the woman. “You’re honest.”
Malcolm didn’t really want to flirt with her. He was still mulling over his encounter with Multi. How close had he really been to dying, on that bus? And how had Multi known about Second Wind?
“A penny for your thoughts,” said the woman.
He started to wonder if sitting down next to her had been such a good idea, after all. Malcolm was trying to come up with a polite way to refuse her when she reached over and poked him in the shoulder. It was just juvenile enough of an action to loosen his lips.
“Is it worth it to fight against where the world is headed?” he asked. “Does any of us really have any control over the future, or are we just… rocks in the middle of an avalanche.”
“Wow,” said the woman. “Jumping right into the deep end, aren’t you? That’s an interesting question.”
She sipped her own drink and thought for a couple of seconds.
“I think that it matters less whether we’re in control or not, and more whether we think we are,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The woman turned to face him more directly. She leaned an elbow on the bar and rested her chin on her hand.
“You aren’t in control of anything,” said the woman. “You might think you are. That you make small choices… what to eat, when to sleep. Who to be friends with, and who to hate. The bigger stuff, control of the world, or even your own future, it’s hard to feel like you can keep your hands on the wheel. But really, it’s all the same. Pointless and predetermined.”
“That’s… kind of dark,” said Malcolm.
“You shouldn’t ask deep questions if you don’t want deep answers,” said the woman.
Malcolm considered her perspective, or at least tried to. He went to take another sip of beer and realized that his mug was already almost empty.
“What are you doing here tonight, then?” asked Malcolm. “Why bother going out? Drinking in a bar, talking to strangers. Like you said, it’s all pointless.”