S
ubedei was housecleaning. His home was on the third floor of an old hotel that had been converted to rooms for single men. He could live in a better place. He had plenty of gold, but this place suited him.It had become so cluttered he couldn’t walk around easily. In his sleeping corner, the furs had grown odorous after years of continuous use. They should have been shaken and left to air in a fresh, steady wind, tossed over a rope between two tents. He’d tried that once, by draping the furs over the fire escape, but had to take them down because a neighbor complained about the smell. He would have liked to plunge his fist into the neighbor’s chest and rip out his heart, but Master Rabishu had instructed him to live quietly and not draw attention to himself, so that he could stay near Shale.
To him, that summed up everything that was wrong with living in Chicago: living quietly. He couldn’t air out his furs and he couldn’t build a fire on his floor to roast meat. For that matter, what meat was there? Bloodless hunks wrapped in plastic? He understood the strategy of this “living quietly” business, but it chafed.
When Subedei lived in North America, he liked to live in Montana or the wide plains of Canada, places with lots of space where he could ride a horse and sleep in a tent or on the ground next to his cooking fire. No one bothered him and he would go for years that way, until his master summoned him for a killing. It was even better when he was allowed to live in Asia. He had trod on the Great Wall of China as a tourist. The wall was made to keep his ancestors, the Hun clans of Central Asia, out of China. It gave him great satisfaction to stomp on it.
All of these things were minor nuisances compared to the bounty granted to him by his master: unlimited life in the powerful body of his youth with all his lusts for women and blood sated, and ample chances to devise strategies for winning wars—even if the wars weren’t quite what he was used to.
All of it granted after he’d already been dead.
Having experienced both life and death, there was no doubt in Subedei’s mind which he preferred and to whom he owed total allegiance.
The years he’d been in the city grated on him, but his work required him to be near the human Shale on almost a daily basis, and before that another human, who had failed to do the job Master Rabishu desired. After the failure, when Subedei was freed from the order to protect that man, he’d ripped off both the man’s arms and watched him bleed to death. He wondered if the time would come when he would be able to do the same with Shale. He despised Shale for his pettiness and arrogance and weakness, but he kept him alive because his master wanted it that way. He also detected in Shale a sick cruelty much different from his own, albeit violent, approach to living. His killings were about retribution or pride or necessity, or done at the order of his master. As for Shale, Subedei had met up with that kind of sickness before, and the best thing to be done was to clean the air of foulness by killing the person. At least Subedei had his standards, and his code of conduct, whether they made sense in the twenty-first century or not.
Sometimes he found himself hoping that Project CESR—oh, yes, he knew all about it, even though Shale thought him ignorant—would fail. He mentally rehearsed various ways to dispose of Shale and found them all equally pleasing.
He and his demon master agreed on one thing. The renegade ex-Ageless woman would be his, and he’d have his way with her for a long time before turning her over to the demon. Subedei deeply understood betrayal, and she’d betrayed her master. That made her worthless in his eyes.
He’d have his way with her somewhere other than Chicago, though. Take her out to the high desert in the west, maybe, or the far north of Russia where the wind had some bite to it.
So the furs were the first things to go, stuffed into several plastic trash bags. Once he had a clear space on the floor, he could sort through other items, residue of past meals: bones, wrappers, greasy plates. More plastic bags were filled. When the room was clear except for Subedei’s statuary and weapons, he hauled all the trash away. He returned to set what he considered a prime invention of the modern world—the bug bomb.
While his room was being cleared of pests that made him itch and ate his food, he left for a walk in the dark. Sometimes a mugger was foolish enough, or desperate enough, to accost him in spite of his bulk. Subedei was allowed to defend himself, even when he was supposed to be living quietly, and he did so with relish.
This time he was swept from the dark streets into the presence of his master. As the fog swept toward him in the formless place and the smell reached him, he fell to his knees and bowed his head.
“What do you desire, Great One?”
Tell me of Shale.
The voice flowed softly into his head. Subedei had experienced anger in that voice once, when he’d killed a target’s family in addition to the target. Rabishu wanted the target’s child, a daughter, to survive, embittered about the loss of her father. Since then, Subedei had operated with more self-discipline.
“Everything is on schedule. You will be pleased.”
When all is done, I will reward you.
Subedei felt his master’s clawed hand descend on his head and shoulders and rest there almost lovingly.
For success, you may live wherever you please, take women, and hunt, and I shall not call upon you for a hundred years.
Suddenly a claw extended into Subedei’s shoulder, piercing it like a knife. He grimaced but made no sound.
For failure, there will be consequences.
Reward and punishment were easily grasped by Subedei. “I understand. Can I ask a question, Great One?”
Yes. The voice vibrated with something that could have been affection.
“The traitor Maliha—when can I have her?”
Soon. But not yet.
When he was back on the sidewalk in the dark, Subedei wondered why he couldn’t have the woman right away. Then he seized upon the reason, and nodded. His master was testing his discipline, after that time when he’d killed the daughter who was supposed to live.
Subedei shut away his lust for another time. He would pass the test.