“What’s your role there?” asked Odette. “When you’re not stuck escorting us?”
“Well, I’m in international affairs and relations,” he said airily. “Diplomatic work.” Odette made polite interested noises. To her dismay, he continued to talk about himself for the rest of the car ride. He spoke of reviews he’d worked on, junkets he’d traveled on, and meetings he’d attended with high-ranking officials. It was simultaneously the most boring and the most intimidating lecture Odette had ever received. I’m so far behind in my career, she thought glumly, having forgotten that she wasn’t even in the civil service. By the time the car pulled up at Apex House, she was beginning to question if she’d ever accomplished anything in her life.
The door was opened by a security guard, and Alessio and Odette both slid out of the car as quickly as possible. Odette snapped out an arm and caught Alessio in an iron grasp.
“Don’t even think of leaving me with him,” she said between gritted teeth. She looked around for the other cars and saw that they were the first to arrive. Behind her, Bannister was talking loudly on his mobile phone. “Suddenly the excursion to the museum is looking a lot better, isn’t it?” she said.
“I’m still wearing this uniform,” said Alessio. “And according to your new boyfriend, it’s a lot to live up to.” Back in the car, Bannister had also mentioned his accomplishments at the Estate. He’d congratulated Odette’s little brother on the outfit and then informed him that it came from a proud tradition. Alessio had mustered a sickly smile and, in the name of diplomatic relations, kept his mouth firmly shut. “What do you think his power is?”
“Why, to entrance us with his résumé,” said Odette sourly. “Although apparently he possesses preternatural skills at rugby as well. Frankly, I’d have thought that someone who works in diplomacy would have mastered the art of feigning interest in other people.” She looked around as the object of their conversation approached, shooting his cuffs so that his cuff links caught the light.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “The rest of the cars should be here shortly. In the meantime, welcome to Apex House.” He gestured grandly to the building in front of them. Odette looked up and took an involuntary step back. She’d seen pictures in the Broederschap’s files, but standing before it in person, under the gray skies, she had to clench her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.
It loomed. A large white building with columns, it struck her as the architectural equivalent of Pawn Bannister’s conversation — ostensibly there to be enjoyed, but really designed to intimidate. This was a structure that spoke of centuries of wealth and discreet influence. It had watched the rise and fall of an empire. It had tolerated the Great Stink of 1858. Pea-soup fogs had enshrouded it. Suffragettes and toffs and flappers and anarchists and mods and rockers and hippies and punks and a million others had passed by it, all unaware of the power that resided within. It had weathered the Blitz. It endured. The leaders of the Checquy governed supernatural Britain from within those walls. Apex House was the stronghold of her family’s oldest enemies.
I don’t want to go in there, thought Odette. Everyone in that building hates me just on principle. If I go in there, I don’t think I’ll come out.
It started to rain.
“Well, we’d better go in,” said Bannister. “There’s no sense in getting soaked.” Odette looked around hopefully, but no other long black cars materialized and the rain was getting heavier.
“Fine, yes, let’s go in,” she said. “Alessio, put that damn hat back on.” They hurried up the steps and through a massive rococo revolving door that deposited her in a semicircular marble-floored lobby. The walls were paneled in dark wood and rose very high. Large, impressive double doors stood at the head of the room, flanked by two sets of smaller, much less impressive doors. Behind each of two large marble counters sat two uniformed security guards. All of them were staring at her fixedly.
“Oh, hi,” she said awkwardly. It wasn’t immediately clear which counter she should be addressing. The guards at the right-hand desk stood up, and she turned to them.
“Good morning, Miss Leliefeld,” said one of the guards flatly.
“Welcome to Apex House,” said the other guard, equally flatly.
“Thank you,” said Odette, taken aback by their foreboding expressions and the fact that they knew her name. Their eyes flicked to the door behind her as Alessio and Pawn Bannister emerged into the foyer.
“You’ll be signing them in, Pawn Bannister?” asked one of the guards on the left-hand desk.
“Yes, might as well get started,” said Bannister. “Getting everybody logged in will take ages. How far behind are the other cars?” The guard put his hand to the side of his head, and Odette saw with a shudder that he had no radio or earpiece.
“Next car should be here in about three minutes,” he said.
“All right, well, let’s get the paperwork out of the way, at least,” said Bannister, sounding terribly bored. “Alessio, we’ll do you first.” Odette’s little brother looked a trifle alarmed as he was ushered to the right-hand desk, but he nodded obediently.
Odette had not been at all certain what the process of entering Apex House would involve. She’d been braced for laborious computer entry, typing in massive amounts of personal data and history. Or a shadowy member of the Checquy would glance at her and then give a silent nod. Or maybe she would stand in a scanner and guards would look at her naked. She hadn’t been prepared for a photocopied form on a clipboard and a piece of carbon paper underneath.
“Fill that in, please,” said the guard to Alessio. “Full name, address, date, and time. Oh, and do you have ID?” Alessio, whose personal effects consisted of a chunky wristwatch that monitored various vital signs including glucose and hormone levels, a mobile phone, and the ugliest hat in the whole world, looked at Odette, panicked.
“I’ve got your passport,” she assured him, and she retrieved it from her bag and handed it over along with her own. The guard examined the photos in the little burgundy booklets that were stamped with the Belgian coat of arms.
“Fine,” he said, returning them to her. He typed away on his computer and printed out a flimsy piece of paper with the word visitor in big red letters. He slotted it into a clear plastic sleeve clipped to a bright red lanyard and gave it to Alessio. “Keep that around your neck while you’re in the building,” he said sternly. “And be sure to hand it back in when you leave.” Odette was feeling a little torn — the guards were intimidating, but the casual security arrangements seemed almost absurd.
For heaven’s sake, we’re monstrous foreigners who have used our dark science and warped God’s handiwork to suit our own twisted needs. We tried to invade your country, and my centuries-old ancestor infiltrated your organization. The least you could do is pat me down or take my fucking picture, she thought in irritation.
“I, uh, thought there was going to be some scanning?” she said to Bannister as she signed her name on the form.
“Oh, certainly, in the next room,” he said. “This is just your visitor’s pass.”
“Thank you,” she said to the guard as she hung her pass around her neck. The guard nodded back without smiling.
Bannister led them to one of the sets of smaller, unimpressive doors, which clicked and opened with a grinding noise. She felt slightly mollified when she saw that they were massively thick and made of layers of metal, wood, and stone sandwiched together.
Beyond the doors was a long, bland room with various pieces of bulky equipment dotted around it. The entire place — ceiling, floors, and walls — was covered in white tiles. A portly gentleman of African descent and wearing a lab coat approached them. Trailing behind him were a line of anxious-looking men and women in lab coats or scrubs.