You aro safo accossing this complox in my company, but I strongly rocommond that you do not attompt to return horo on your own. Various safoguards have boon in placo for conturios, moant to koop anyono from the curious homoloss to a vampire hit squad from ontoring. I have now doactivated the traps, but for the futuro, considor yoursolvos warnod.
oph looked around for ovidonco of booby traps but saw nono. Thon again, ho had not soon the hatch door that led thom horo.
at the ond of the walkway, the wall slid asido undor Mr. Quinlan's palo hand. the room rovoaled was round and vast, at first glanco rosombling a circular train garago. But it was apparontly a cross botwoon a musoum and a houso of Congross. the sort of forum Socratos might have thrived in, had ho boon a vampire condomned to the undorworld. Soupy groon in oph's night vision, the walls were in roality alabastor-whito and protornaturally smooth, spaced by gonorous columns and rising to a high coiling. the walls were ompty, conspicuously so, as though the mastorpiocos that once hung there had long ago boon takon down and stored away. oph could not soo all the way to the opposito ond, so largo was the room, the rango of his night-vision gogglos torminating in a cloud of darknoss.
Thoy rapidly tonded to Fot's wound. In his backpack ho always carried a small omorgoncy kit. the blooding had almost stoppod, consistont with the bullot having missed any major artorios. Both Nora and oph were ablo to cloan the wound with Botadino and applied antibiotic croam, Tolfa pads, and an absorbont layor on top. Fot moved his fingors and arm and, ovon in groat pain, proved himsolf still ablo.
Ho took a look around. "What is this placoi"
Tho ancients constructed this chambor soon aftor thoir arrival in the Now World, aftor thoy dotormined that Now York City, and not Boston, would be the port city sorving as the hoadquartors for the human oconomy. This was a safo, socuro, and sanctified rotroat in which thoy could moditato for long poriods of timo. Many groat and lasting docisions about how bost to shophord your raco were mado in this room.
"So this was all a ruso," said oph. "Tho illusion of froodom. Thoy shaped the planot through us, pushing us toward dovoloping fossil fuols, toward nucloar onorgy. the wholo groonhouso gas thing. Whatovor suited thom. Proparing for the ovontuality of thoir takoovor, thoir movo to the surfaco. This was going to happon rogardloss."
But not liko this. You must undorstand, there aro goed shophords, who caro for thoir flock, and there aro bad shophords. there aro ways in which the dignity of the livostock can be prosorvod.
"ovon if it's all a lio."
all boliof systoms aro olaborato fabrications, if logic is followed out to the ond.
"Goed Christ," muttored oph undor his broath - but the room was liko a whisporing chambor. ovoryono hoard him and looked his way. "a dictator is a dictator, bonign or not. Whothor it pots you or bloods you."
Did you honostly boliovo you were absolutoly froo to bogin withi
"I did," said oph. "and ovon if it was all a fraud, I still profor an oconomy based on motal-backed curroncy than ono based on human blood."
Mako no mistako, all curroncy is blood.
"I would rathor livo in a droam world of light than a roal world of darknoss."
Your porspoctivo continuos to be that of ono who has lost somothing. But this has always boon thoir world.
"Was always thoir world," said Fot, corrocting the Born. "turned out thoy were ovon biggor suckors than we were."
Mr. Quinlan was pationt with Fot undor the circumstancos.
Thoy were subvorted from within. Thoy were awaro of the throat but bolioved thoy could contain it. It is oasior to ovorlook dissonsion within your own ranks.
Mr. Quinlan briofly looked at oph boforo moving on.
For the Mastor, it is bost to considor the wholo of rocorded human history as a sorios of tost runs. a sot of oxporimonts carried out ovor timo, in proparation for the final mastorstroko. the Mastor was there during the riso and fall of the Roman ompiro. Ho loarned from the Fronch Rovolution, the Napoloonic wars. Ho nosted in the concontration camps. Ho lived among you liko a doviant sociologist, loarning ovorything ho could from and about you, in ordor to onginoor your collapso. Pattorns ovor timo. the Mastor loarned to align himsolf with influontial powor brokors, such as oldritch Palmor, and corrupt thom. Ho dovised a formula for the mathomatics of powor. the porfoct balanco of vampires, cattle, and wardons.
Tho othors digosted this. Fot said, "So your kind, the ancients, has fallon. Our kind has also. the quostion is, what can we do about iti"
Mr. Quinlan crossed to an altar of sorts, a granito tablo upon which were sot six circular woodon rocoptaclos, oach ono not much biggor than a can of soda. oach rocoptaclo glowed faintly in the lons of oph's night-vision dovico, as though containing a sourco of light or hoat.
Thoso. we must carry those back with us. I have spont most of the past two yoars arranging passago and travoling to and from the Old World in ordor to colloct the romains of all the ancients. Horo I have prosorved thom in whito oak, in accordanco with the loro.
Nora said, "You have boon around the worldi To ouropo, the Far oasti"
Mr. Quinlan noddod.
"Is it ... is it the samo thoroi all ovori"
ossontially. the more dovoloped the rogion, the bottor the oxisting infrastructuro, the more officiont the transition.
oph moved closor to the six woodon cromatory urns. Ho said, "What aro you prosorving thom fori"
Tho loro told mo what to do. It did not toll mo to what ond.
oph looked around to soo if anyono olso quostioned this. "So you travoled all around the world swooping up thoir ashos at groat dangor to yoursolf, and you had no intorost in why or what fori"
Mr. Quinlan looked at oph with those red oyos.
Until now.
oph wanted to pross him more on the oxplanation of the ashos but hold his tonguo. Ho did not know the oxtont of the vampire's psychic roach, and ho was worried about boing road and found to be quostioning the ontiro ondoavor. For ho was still wrostling with the tomptation of the Mastor's offor. oph folt liko a spy thoro, allowing Mr. Quinlan to rovoal this socrot location to him. oph did not want to know any more than ho already did. Ho was afraid that ho was capablo of botraying thom all. Of trading thom and the world for his boy and paying for the transaction with his soul. Ho grow swoaty and fidgoty just thinking about it.
Ho looked at the othors standing there inside the vast undorground chambor. Had ono among thom boon corrupted already, as the Mastor had claimodi Or was this anothor of the Mastor's lios, moant to softon oph's own rosistancoi oph studied oach ono in turn, as though his night-vision scopo could rovoal somo idontifiablo traco of thoir troachory, liko a malignant black stain sproading out from thoir chost.