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Spurling waved a dismissive hand while other people in the room huffed or rolled their eyes.“Peoplewilldie,” Spurling agreed.“Nobody important, though.Both of these countries aretakers.They suck up our tax dollars and give nothing back.There are lots of countries like that, Dee, and lots of people inthiscountry.At one time they might have been useful as laborers, but we don’t need that any longer.Computers and machines will take care of that for us.”
It didn’t sound like hate.Didn’t sound evil.If you removed all emotion, it was entirely logical.
“Move this along,” said the grandfatherly man.He was looking at something on his phone.
Spurling nodded.“It’s time, Dee.Show us what you got.Grant my wish so we can move our agenda forward expeditiously.”He turned, clicked the remote, and a photo of a man appeared onscreen.He was middle-aged, white, and blocky, with impressively bushy eyebrows and a thin-lipped smile.His name was printed underneath the photo.“That’s the president.He’s in his country’s capital right now.We can give you the geographic coordinates if you need them.”
Dee didn’t need them.Standing there in the stupid meeting room, he knew he could grant this wish.It was just a little nudge after all, and perhaps this president was already inclined toward such action.Maybe the guy stayed awake at night, imagining giving the orders and watching—no doubt from somewhere safe—as his weapons did what they were made to do.
The overhead lights brightened and Irina walked over, heels silent on the ugly carpet.She stopped when she was just a few feet away, and for the first time he noticed how thin she was.She was tiny, really.But he could see the corded muscles in her arms and the firmness in her jaw.With her gaze firmly locked on Dee’s, she slid a ring off her finger and handed it to him on outstretched palm.
“That’s an expensive charm,” he remarked.Inane, but it was the first thing that came into his head.
“Plenty more where that came from.”
“Does anyone ever grantyouwishes?”
Very briefly, her mask slipped and her face almost crumpled.But she quickly regained her composure.“Only you, Deedee.That one time.”
“And you granted my only wish too.My dog—Happy Meal.He was a good friend.The only one I ever had, until Achilles.I wish I was with Achilles now.”
She answered quietly.“You can be, when this is all over.I’ll make sure of it.”
Yes, she probably could.Spurling didn’t seem to care much about Bureau agents as long as they were no threat to his plans.Dee and Achilles could remain untouched by the chaos, and no creatures would come along to disembowel Achilles or shoot him.Dee and Achilles would be comfortable.And Dee would wield true power instead of lurking on the edges of society and worrying about paying his rent or getting thrown in jail.All the bad things that would happen to strangers, those wouldn’t be his fault.The world wasn’t his responsibility.He hadn’t asked foranyof this.
Dee could picture it: he and Achilles in a nice house with lots of bookshelves and a big yard.Dee would learn how to garden.They could get a dog.They would spend hours together in their big bed and take lazy walks through the countryside.Achilles might be resistant at first, but hehadwanted to quit the Bureau, after all.Dee and Irina could give him a little nudge or two as well.
And anyway, what was the use of refusing?Spurling and his gang were ultimately going to win.They had all the money, all the power.There was no point in taking a stand when you had nothing to gain from it.
Irina closed her hand around the ring as if reluctant to part with it.Despite her flippant dismissal of its value, she probably treasured it anyway.She had always liked shiny things.
Dee took it from her.
“Comeon,” said one of the men.“If I want drama, I’ll watch Netflix.”Several others mumbled their agreement.
Irina turned and walked back to her spot.Her stance was confident and businesslike.If she hadn’t been standing behind the seated Spurling, she would have looked like a CEO.Except for her hair, which was in the process of escaping her bun as if it wanted nothing to do with present company.
Dee held the ring so tightly that it dug into his skin.
“I wish,” said Spurling loudly, “for the president to immediately launch an attack on the capital, as we saw in the video.Is that specific enough for you, Dee?”
“Yes.”Dee’s own voice seemed to come from far away.From someone else.He would grant this wish and Achilles would understand, eventually.It was the only way that Dee could save him.They could have a life together.
And it would be as hollow and bitter as if it were the result of a love charm.
“It’d be better just to die,” Dee said.To Irina, because nobody else would understand.To everyone else, he said, “I’d rather be in the black hole with the man I love than help you monsters.”
A jolt went up his arm, his body felt so flattened that his heart and lungs didn’t work.And the world went black.
CHAPTER39
It was Des’s turn to sing again.
The group of them had been sitting together for what felt like centuries, since nobody could sleep, even if they tried.They’d all told stories from their lives.Any stories were allowed, as long as they were positive, hopeful, or funny.Abe had the biggest collection of tales since he’d been around the longest, and he was an excellent storyteller.But everyone had something to contribute.Even Achilles, who shared some anecdotes from his slightly misspent youth.
Quite a few of the stories had to do with love—romantic, familial, or platonic—because those worked especially well to stave feelings of doom and helplessness.Achilles surprised himself by remembering the times his sister had patiently helped him with homework or his parents had made a big effort to understand American customs and the English language so they could help him navigate childhood obstacles.
Periodically they’d decide to pause the stories and sing instead, but aside from Abe, Des was the only one with a decent voice.So he good-naturedly taught them songs from his childhood in Belfast.Some of them were raunchy, but that was fun too.Right now they were on the third round of a ballad about a drunk man who falls from a ladder and busts open his head, which didn’t seem like it would be a cheery topic but was, nonetheless, because whiskey revives him at the end.
