“This is nice,” Vermillion said. “Really nice, but why aren’t you just teleporting?”
“A few reasons,” Jason said. “For one, I’ve been hankering to test this thing out for a while. For another, things have been chaos over the last few days.”
“That’s a severe understatement,” Hiro said.
“Exactly, Uncle Hiro,” Jason said. “Some luxurious, uninterrupted hours on the road is a chance to give you a proper explanation of what happened to me and how we ended up where we are. So, let’s get going, yeah? Shade, get behind the wheel. You can drive this thing, right?”
“I am certain I can manage, Mr Asano.”
Despite what the other organisations believed, there was a peak leadership structure that existed within the Engineers of Ascension. It had been quietly preparing for years and a group of the top leadership were meeting in an office in New York City. There were four of them, two men and two women, each in an immaculate suit. They sat at a conference table, watching footage of the Sydney tollway shoot out, intercut with images from phone footage of the Starlight Rider and coverage of the hospital miracle.
“This man threatens our agenda,” Mr North said. “We cannot allow him to beat us to the punch.”
“Do we kill him?” Mrs West asked.
“He’s an unknown factor,” Mr East said. “Too much could go wrong. The better response is to accelerate the timetable.”
“That will still take months,” Mrs West said. “What about a more immediate response?”
“The Network will not allow these public displays to continue,” Mrs South said. “We keep our hands clean and allow them to deal with it.”
“Agreed,” Mr East said. “I formally propose we move up the timetable. All in favour?”
23
HEGEMONS
The magical motorhome made its way north along the coast. On the bottom floor, the windows had turned opaque as Taika, Hiro, and Vermillion watched some of Jason’s earliest recordings on a hologram-like recording crystal projector. Jason’s clean-shaven, iron-rank appearance was somewhat different from his current visage.
“What’s going on with your nephew’s chin, boss?”
Vermillion sensed an unusual surge of magic from above. He got up and rode the elevating platform up through a veil of sound-suppressing mist to the middle floor. There, in a room with three single beds, he found Jason’s disconcerting magical companion, the nebula within a floating cloak. Its four disembodied eyes were fixed on the television on the wall, which was playing the old Music Man movie from the sixties. Vermillion had actually seen it during the original cinema run.
He felt the magical surge coming from the next room and touched the orange patch of mist on the white wall, next to the door. The mist door dissipated, allowing him access.
Jason was sat cross-legged on a large bed. There was an amber light shining from within his body, just dimming as Vermillion entered. It was clearly the source of the magic as he sensed the surge dim with it.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Jason said. “Just consolidating the gains from my recent fights.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me how essence magicians get stronger?”
“You, I’d tell,” Jason said. “The Cabal, though, they have to pay for the good stuff.”
“I think they know already,” Vermillion said. “Institutionally, I’ve found that we overvalue secrets as a commodity. Maybe you could answer another question.”
“Sure,” Jason said.
“Why is a whatever-your-friend-is watching The Music Man?”
“Gordon likes old movies,” Jason said. “Mostly family movies and musicals. I have no idea what he gets out of them.”
“Gordon?”
“That’s his name.”
“His name’s Gordon.”
“Yep.”
“You live an odd life, Jason.”
“You have no idea,” Jason said with a laugh.
“Did your magical recreational vehicle come with the television installed?”
“Are you familiar with quintessence?” Jason asked.
“No.”
Jason plucked one that looked like a sapphire from his inventory and tossed it to Vermillion.
“I’ve seen these,” Vermillion said, peering at it closely. “We call them affinity gems. I’m pretty sure the Network is the main supplier.”
“Well, I collected a truckload of them where I’ve been. Since the magic flask that makes this vehicle can absorb items to gain new functions, at some point, I just started shovelling in the low-rank stuff to see what happened. I’m still figuring out all the utility options, like the crystal recording projector you were watching downstairs.”
“You might want to keep quiet about this thing,” Vermillion said. “People will come after you for this alone.”
“It won’t do them any good,” Jason said. “It’s bound to me and me alone. I don’t suppose people will believe me if I tell them that, though, will they?”
“No,” Vermillion said with a chuckle.
“What do you think of these paintings?” Jason asked, gesturing at the wall behind Vermillion.
Vermillion turned to examine the art, hanging side by side on the wall. He could immediately tell that the artist was the same and the brushwork seemed familiar, confirmed when he checked the signature in the corner.
“This is by Dawn,” he said. “An unusual new artist. Polarising, enigmatic.”
“You know her work?”
“A passing familiarity. When you get to my age, you develop a variety of interests, and art is timeless.”
He more closely examined the first painting, which showed two planets. At first glance, they both seemed to be Earth. Then he noticed that one had an accurate representation of the continents, while the other was slightly, but noticeably, off. In between the two planets, against a dark void, were four pillars.
The leftmost was filled with indistinct dark shapes and bright stars. The next depicted a grotesque, Lovecraftian mass of monstrous leeches with rings of lamprey teeth. The third was dark but contained an eye-like nebula, immediately reminding him of the entity in the next room. The last was similar to the first with its dark and indistinct shapes, but without the stars shining within.
He turned his attention to the second picture, which he realised depicted the planet from the first picture with the distorted versions of Earth’s continents. Orbiting the planet was a swarm of strange, floating cities. They ranged in style from ancient, with castles built of stone, through industrial age to modern and even sleekly futuristic. There was a nameplate in the frame giving the painting’s name.
“The Invasion of Pallimustus,” he read. “A lot of her critics have dismissed her work as fantasy kitsch because of works like this.”
“I don’t think she’s painting for art critics,” Jason said. “Do you know how long she’s been working?”
“I think her works first appeared around a year ago. A year and a half maybe.”
“I need to find this woman.”
“She’s famously reclusive, but I can make some inquiries.”