Eric Nylund - All That Lives Must Die

His hand rose toward her.

But he sensed the lines of deadly force radiating from her.

Henry reconsidered and dropped his hand. Perhaps the Fool best suited today’s dismal occasion.

“Did you know,” Henry asked her, “that San Franciscans call the Transamerica Building-?”

“Pyramid,” Audrey corrected him. “It is the Transamerica Pyramid .”

“Quite right. They also call it the Great Alien Ring Toss. Others say it looks like an ice cream cone stuck into the earth.”

Audrey turned, raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

So much for his attempt to lighten the Lady’s mood.

Henry dug into his pocket and retrieved his silver hip flask, unstoppered it, paused to savor the scent of a thousand flowers, and then took a nip. The liquor exploded through his thoughts, leaving curlicues of smoke and memory. He exhaled the vapors.

In truth, Henry’s mood needed lightening as much as Audrey’s did. He was attempting to think six moves ahead of the Council and the Infernal Board-a worthy challenge for any fool.

Or perhaps he was taking this affair with the twins too seriously?

He took another drink and offered the flask to Audrey. This was just for politeness’ sake. Never in a million years would Audrey join him. The sun and moon were more likely to unexpectedly eclipse.

Audrey mashed the EMERGENCY STOP button and took the flask.

How wonderful! Someone other than himself had done something surprising.

Audrey inhaled the bouquet, and her pupils dilated. “It would be less dangerous to carry refined plutonium through the city than real Soma.” She took a long pull, to Henry’s dismay, drinking nearly half. A rare blush spread outward from her neck.

She handed the flask back and said, “I assume you have countless layers of trickery planned with regards to my children?”

Henry put on his best How could you ever think such a thing? You wound me, woman look, and then stammered, “If only you knew how much I care for Eliot and Fiona.”

“I know,” she said, “but sometimes, Henry, people would be better off without any of us ‘caring’ about them.”

She set a hand on his chest-the lightest of touches.

Henry wasn’t sure where this was going, for Audrey never casually touched anything. He backed into a corner of the elevator.

Audrey pressed closer and remained with him. Her fingers dug into his black turtleneck. “I sense your heart beating and feeling. You do care for them. . as much as any of us can.”

She grasped a handful of his shirt.

The threads in the weave constricted about Henry’s ribs.

“As long as by ‘caring for Eliot and Fiona’ you mean you have their best interests in mind-and not yours .”

Henry started to protest, but found the air gone from his lungs.

“Did you know Fiona has learned the trick of cutting with string?” Audrey asked. “She has yet to discover that it can also be done with many strings at once. . like woven cloth.”

Audrey pulled his shirt taut.

Henry had a sudden vision of Audrey ripping the shirt from his torso-like some stage magician trick-only this would not be trickery. . and what would remain of his torso would fit though a martini strainer.

Audrey let go.

She tapped the EMERGENCY STOP button. The elevator continued up.

Henry recovered and straightened his turtleneck. He took one more swig from his flask.

The elevator doors parted, and cold fresh air blasted them.

They stepped onto the uppermost secret level of the Transamerica Pyramid.

The aluminum shutters on the angled walls were open, and mid-morning light streamed into the space. This level of the pointy part of the landmark building had been filled with dust bunnies before he’d had it renovated. The space had been redecorated with ultramodern velvet couches (designed in the 1960s, when there actually had been a vision of an ultramodern future).

Of course, the family was already here.

Lucia, Henry noticed first-Audrey’s sister, the Middle Fate, and sometimes called (although he thought with the greatest irony), Blind Justice. Then there was Gilbert, known first as Gilgamesh, whom Henry fondly remembered as the Once-King. Kino was next, the Guardian of the Underworld, dour and sour and unsociable as ever. And last was old Cornelius, what was left of the last of the Titans, the once mighty Cronos.

Lucia sat opposite the elevator, a strategic location where she could chastise those who came late. She wore a gray power business suit with bloodred pinstripes. It was conservatively sexy. The steel in her gaze communicated to Henry that she would tolerate none of his usual tomfoolery today.

So he would have to invent all-new tomfoolery for the occasion.

Gilbert crossed the room, a bottle of tequila in one hand, two glasses in the other. He poured Henry a tumbler, and one for himself. “Too auspicious a day to face sober, Cousin.”

Henry nodded and took the glass. Gilbert looked disheveled, his golden beard wild and dark circles under his eyes.

But when Henry sipped the drink, he found it disappointingly only iced tea.

Gilbert maintained pretenses, still silently on Henry’s side in this matter. . part of their very, very long-range strategy. Henry was relieved to know that the First King Gilgamesh was still as smart as ever.

“Have you heard?” Gilbert gestured with his drink to a corner bathed in sunlight. “We have a special guest with us today.”

Henry squinted. Camouflaged in the radiance was Dallas.

Poor Dallas had been kicked off the Council last week, replaced with her older sister, Audrey. Lucia had thought her too soft. That was a mistake, Henry feared, that Lucia would one day pay for dearly.

Dallas wore a sundress of translucent sea green, high-heeled sandals, and carried a Versace clutch. The breeze made her dress and golden hair ripple.

Henry took a step toward her, irresistibly drawn to Beauty. . but then noted the look in her eyes was pure liquid-nitrogen venom. She was, of course, here under protest at the behest of a Council’s summons. Henry understood it all in that instant-her part to play in their schemes and the intersibling politics-and checked his motion toward her.

The door to the emergency stairs banged open, and Aaron entered, lugging a duffel in one hand. He had marched up the forty-nine floors without breaking a sweat.

Aaron made a point of slamming the door. He dropped his duffel with a floor-shaking thud, shot everyone a glare, and then sat across from Lucia, propping his cowboy boots on the couch.

Tall, dark Kino spared him a deprecating glance. He then straightened the lily in the lapel of his black leather overcoat and turned to Audrey. “So good to see you, my dear. I think you shall be a voice of reason among this collection of fools.”

“One hopes,” Audrey replied as she settled next to Lucia.

“Shall we start?” Cornelius mumbled. “I believe everyone is finally present.”

Cornelius was on the floor. He wore an I LOST MY HEART IN SF T-shirt, shorts, and athletic socks embroidered with tiny cable cars pulled up to his knobby knees. Good for him. Playing the tourist, preserving his childlike sense of discovery, was likely what kept the oldest living thing alive.

“Yes, all present,” Lucia said, and smoothed back her hair, tying it up in a knot. She rang her tiny silver bell. “I hereby call the Council of Elders of the League of Immortals to order. Narro, Audio, Perceptum .”

Lucia set a hand delicately next to Audrey. “Can you give us an update on the twins? Are they well? How have they done at Paxington so far?” The illusion of her concern was nearly perfect.

“Of course,” Audrey replied.