The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 20: Auction

 

Auction

I go about my business as usually for the next two days. Working with the conjurers on Rearden Metal is going a lot better than when we first started. Several of the conjurers are even able to make type 1. By the time I reach my deadline in three weeks I think I’ll have a proper production facility.

On the day before I meet with the Darks, Crayton calls me up to his penthouse. It is a lot cleaner than when I last visited, and he appears to be in a much better mood. Still, he has bags under his eyes.

“I’ve heard that you can revive Alice.” Crayton pours himself some wine. He offers it to me.

I shake my head. “It is going to be difficult. She suffered a soul rupture due to the effects of opening the portal.”

“And how can we fix it?”

I grimace. “We’re going to have to perform a magic ritual that uses a lot of very rare and hard to find ingredients. Have you ever heard about a Tarasque?”

Crayton’s eyes widen. “That’s the legendary triple-S monster.”

I frown. “Triple-S?”

“Yes. It’s a monster so powerful that nothing in this reality can stop it.”

“Then …” I look away.

Crayton appears equally disturbed. “Indeed. The little hope I had is slipping away.” He takes a drink from his wine glass, staring out the window. “But still. This gives me something to work towards. I can hire a thousand adventurers. I can scour the world for a portal that would lead us to that monster. I can do …” His eyes moisten. “Anything. Something.”

I am getting emotional as well. “I’ll do whatever I can as well.”

Crayton waves his hand. “Leave me. I want to think while I’m alone.”

I nod and leave the penthouse observatory, taking the elevator down to the floor where my apartment is located. Chris is already there, reading a book while sitting on the couch. She looks up when I enter, nods, and then returns her gaze to the book.

I sit down in an armchair and stare out the window for a couple of minutes. Then I get up and retire to my room, where I open my laptop and search for “underground auction.”

There are a lot of results, but none that connect to an auction that will happen in London tomorrow. I wonder what they’ll be selling? Maybe I’ll buy something if I find it.

Although, with what the Darks are planning, it might not be safe to buy anything.

I close my computer and spend a bit of time reading before setting my alarm clock and going to bed.

The alarm goes off at 5:30 am. I shut it down and get out of bed in a groggy fog.

Chris is already up in the other room, as I can hear her making tea. I spend a bit of time debating whether or not to wear my suit, and then decide to wear it just in case. After checking in the mirror that everything is okay, I enter the living room. A cup of hot tea is waiting for me on the kitchen table. I pick it up and sip it, letting it revive my spirits.

Chris is eating a bagel.

I sit down at the table. “Elves are vegetarian, right?”

Chris nods. Her gaze is as cold as ever, but I’m getting used to interpreting it. Right now she is deep in thought about something.

I watch the city, just now getting the first hints of sunlight. It’s a beautiful sight, all those strangely shaped skyscrapers, nothing like the ones back home in New York.

When breakfast is over we head down to the lobby, where Sebastian is waiting on a couch. He stands up and joins us as we leave the building and enter the limo. He gets into the driver seat, and after adjusting a few things, turns to look at me.

“What we’re about to do is very dangerous. However, it may be a chance. All the Darks will be in the same place at the same time. I’ve already communicated with Barley and the Organized Crime Unit. They’ll be waiting to spring the trap when they see fit. Remember the signal: a blue light will flash once. When it does, duck down to the ground and cover your head.”

“So they’ve been working.” I had reported everything to Barley right after leaving the warehouse. It was a lot of paperwork, but it seems to have worked.

“Indeed. I know your time with the Darks has been short, but it is about now when we shall bring them down a notch.”

Chris crosses her arms. “Don’t underestimate these people.”

I steel myself. “We won’t.”

Half an hour later we are at the warehouse. I step out of the limo. Elina is leaning against the wall smoking a cigar. Her sunglasses are different than last time. She lowers her glasses and winks at me.

Well. I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but I’m glad the only truth reader isn’t stopping me. Elina did, after all, have a spirit that could tell the truth about someone’s intentions. She raises her sunglasses again and her expression is inscrutable.

Deeve opens the door and leans out. “Ah, the rookie.”

I shrug. “I guess I am.”

Deeve shoots Elina a glance and then waves for us to follow him. We enter the warehouse, where I count twelve Darks, including Deeve. There are thirteen total—I mean, I suppose fourteen at this point—and Elina is outside. Each individual sticks out in some way. Wreck’s huge frame is unmissable. Nameless appears as dodgy as ever. Gall is licking his knife. Another one of the Darks has a number of spinning orbs surrounding her. All of them are visually distinct and unique.

Deeve lifts his eyepatch and a 3D hologram projects out of the eye socket. The hologram represents the Swiss Re building, the egg-shaped skyscraper that dominates London’s skyline. The hologram zooms in to its basement. “Knack. You’re going to disable the security systems down there at oh-nine-fifteen.”

A wiry-thin man wearing a dirty tee shirt and thick glasses grins. “Gotcha boss.”

Deeve points to a vault door that blocks access to the main underground chamber. “Wreck. You’re going to pound anyone who tries to escape.”

Deeve continues through the list, telling each member where they will be stationed.

Through the whole session, Sebastian is recording their conversation. Several devils on my team have worked to make the mic invisible and intangible. I am shaking with nervousness, trying not to show it. Chris, on the other hand, appears rock solid.

As always.

When the briefing is done, everyone breaks, each member of the Dark using their own method of transportation.

I look to Sebastian and nod. We decided beforehand that the limousine was too conspicuous for this job. Thus, I have called a member of the Wales Portal who has teleportation magic. I summon them now.

A dwarf with a long beard steps out of thin air. We are doing this right in front of the Darks so that we can make an impression.

He dwarf, who is named Hangdar, bows. “Markus, my boy. How are you?”

“Great, Hangdar. Can you teleport us to …” I show him the location on the map.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Just me and Chris.”

Hangdar makes a face at Chris. Chris is as silent as ever, avoiding Hangdar’s gaze.

Biren walks up to us and slaps me on the back. “Hey! You’re going to bring me that antimatter, right?”

I grimace, but try to hide it. “Yeah. I’ll give it to you after this mission.”

Biren raises an eyebrow. “You made it already?”

“Yes. Recently.”

Biren appears a bit calmer than before. “Great. I trust our relationship will be fruitful.” He grins, gives me a thumbs-up, and then returns to where the other Darks are gathering.

Handar begins a chant. The ground lights up with a magic circle, and a door rises out of it.

Most of the Darks leave the warehouse while the door is rising. Only Deeve and Elina are left, both watching me with sharp eyes. The door opens to reveal the street right below the Swedish Re building. I look at Sebastian, then at Chris, and we walk through.

The transition is seamless. I feel like I am just stepping through normal space to get there. I sit down on a bench and wait for the rest of the Darks to arrive.

Sebastian taps me on the shoulder. When I look, he points. Even though I can’t see it with my eyes, my anima vision tells me what it is. A government sniper. And there are several. Looks like Barley has been hard at work. Of course the Darks would notice, but I think that the presence of a large underground auction where numerous organized crime bigwigs are in attendance would make a good excuse.

Gall lands first, floating on a cloud of air. He takes his top hat off and grins at me with an evil smile. “I’ve been tasked with making sure you get to the right spot.”

Gall really gives me the creeps. Something about him is way off, even more than the other Darks. I know now the rest of them will be assembling at their separate locations, preparing to do their part in the grand theft.

I am to enter through the front door. That’s the job Deeve gave to me, and which I enlisted my team of devils to help with. Sebastian hands me the ticket before returning to the limousine.

I walk into the building and marvel at the twisting, flowing architecture of the interior. I walk to a small, unmarked elevator that is posing as a maintenance door. When I knock, a camera points at me. I show my ticket to the camera. The door opens and I step in.

Gall waves at me as the elevator closes. It speeds downwards, deep into the Earth's crust. It opens thirty seconds later.

I step out into a grand exhibition center where at least a hundred other people are already gathered, sitting in the plush seats before the stage. Everyone is in formal attire—I’m happy that I chose to wear my suit.  

I walk along the rows until I find the two seats I have been allotted. It’s just Chris and me, as only two people are allowed in per ticket.

The lights dim. The stage lights up. A beautifully dressed woman pulls a cart containing a strange glowing vase and stands before it.

The auctioneer starts, filling the room with auction babble. I stand up, as if I were going to the bathroom, and then walk to a small corner of the room. There is a maintenance door.

I open it. Deeve is standing behind it. He grins at me.

I nod, and then let in another four Darks whose names I do not know. The door closes with a soft swish.

The mission has begun. My part in it is over. I go back to the seat and sit there, watching the auction.

An interesting item arrives on ballot. It’s a small pocket computer from the eighties that appears broken. I flip through the catalog that came with my seat to see exactly what it is.

High-ampule object number 7: Chronos 2A pocket computer.

I just feel, for a moment, as if this computer is meant for me.

“Oneonehundrhundreoneonefiveone—”

I raise my hand.

“Twoonehundredfivefourthreetwoonehundred—”

Someone else raises the bid.

“Fivefourthreefivesixballsevenballeightball—”

I double the bid.

“Going once … Going twice … Sold.” The auctioneer slams the gavel. “Sold to number seventy-four for one million, two hundred ad fifty thousand dollars.”

A lot of money. But I have it, and I think this purchase will be worth far more than that in the future.