Chapter Sixteen

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I walked past the empty reception desk and shoved open the doors to Volkov’s office. Volkov had his back to me, a thick cloud of cigarette smoke around his head. The filing cabinets along one side of the room were all flung open, their contents spread across the desk. Volkov rubbed his bald head as he shoved papers aside. He snatched a folder from under a stack, flicked it open, and started scribbling something on it. On the desk, atop an open book of his own writing, lay a heavy pistol.

“Planning on going down with the ship, Professor?” I said as I strode into the room.

Volkov jerked around, his hand going for the gun. He stopped when he saw me, then turned his back and continued to pore over his notes.

“I thought you would be on a ship by now,” Volkov said. He stubbed out a cigarette on the edge of his desk and drew another one from his pocket. “I’m rather busy, Mr Escobar.”

Out the wall-spanning window behind him, a blur of bodies and claws went hurtling past. Grotesque slammed into the ground outside and the whole tower shook. Dust puffed down from the ceiling tiles and a stack of Volkov’s papers slipped off the edge of his desk, scattering across the floor.

“I won’t take up much of your time. But we need to talk.” I sat down on one of the couches and grabbed the half-empty pitcher of water off the coffee table. I didn’t bother with a glass, just gulped it down straight from the pitcher. My throat had been killing me. I put the pitcher down and wiped my mouth with my hands. I could taste the blood on them. “I guess everything’s gone tits up. Care to explain how this is possible?”

“I’m trying to fix it. You’re not helping.”

“I disagree,” I said. “I think I’m the only person on this damn island who’s got a chance of stopping all this.”

“And how do you propose to do that, Mr Escobar?”

“Easy. Kill Tempest. The same way someone killed Yllia.”

Volkov froze. His head twitched towards me. He glanced at his pistol resting on the desk.

I reached into my pocket and drew my revolver, letting it rest in my lap. Letting him see it. Just so he didn’t do anything stupid. Sure, I was mad at Volkov. His tech was supposed to be foolproof. It was supposed to keep us safe from the Maydays. The Alliance had bet on it, I’d bet on it. And now here we were, with Tempest stampeding through the city. My people dead. Healy dead. But that didn’t mean I was going to shoot Volkov.

Probably. I was still thinking about it.

Volkov turned slowly. He didn’t look at the gun again. Probably for the best. “Tempest is Volkov company property.”

I laughed a bitter laugh. “Ah, go fuck yourself. Soon Tempest will be the only bit of Volkov property left. Have you looked out the window? He wants you, you know. He’s waiting for you to go outside.”

Volkov sniffed, cast a glance out the window. Outside, Tempest delivered a spinning blow to Grotesque, sending the reptilian Mayday crashing to the ground. He moved in for another attack, but just then one of the pustules on Grotesque’s flank bulged and burst. Thick yellow liquid splashed out with the force of a fire hose. Tempest roared and backed away from the toxic liquid.

I got up and went to stand beside Volkov. “I’m here to ask you a few questions. Then I’ll be on my way.”

“You work for me.”

“That’s right. And you hired me to do a job. I’d like to see it through. So I’d appreciate it if you answered my questions. If not, well, I figure I’ll shoot you in the head right now and toss your body out the window for Tempest to enjoy. You can consider that my resignation.”

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