Carrie Vaughn - Dreams of the Golden Age

“Oh, my darling girls,” he murmured. “We’ll manage. Somehow, we’ll manage, I promise.” His love and anxiety pounded outward, a wave that almost made Anna sit, knocked down by the power of it.

Bethy said, “Daddy, what’s wrong?” That question, still at the front of it all.

When Anna looked up, waiting for his answer, he’d changed. She recognized his new expression from old pictures, from newspaper clippings from the days of the Olympiad: determined, glaring, ice-cold. He was frightening, but somehow the intensity calmed her. He promised they would manage, and so they would.

After giving them both rough squeezes, he left them behind to march down the hallway. “Come. We’ll find her.”

Anna looked at Bethy, who was looking back, and she expected that Bethy’s numb and wondering expression was mirrored on her own face. Together, they rushed after their father.

The penthouse was made up of the open living areas—living room, formal dining room, spacious kitchen and eating area. From that, off a primary hallway, were her mother’s office, the master bedroom, a suite that belonged to Suzanne, and down a secondary hallway came a series of guest rooms, bathrooms, a library, and walk-in closets for storage. Bethy and Anna’s rooms were here, along with a dozen rooms that Anna didn’t look inside more than a couple of times a year. At the very end of this secondary hallway stood a wood door with a keypad lock. They caught up with Arthur here, and he was punching a code into the keypad.

“The combination is your grandfather’s birthday,” Arthur said. “Do you know what that is?”

Anna’s heart was racing. This was the door to the old Olympiad secure command room. Her parents always told her the place had been dismantled and sealed off. That there was nothing behind the door but an empty room. But here they were.

Bethy gave the date. Anna was chagrined that she didn’t know it.

“Good,” Arthur said. “Let’s go in, then.”

The lock clicked, and the door slid open, gliding smoothly on its tracks. Operating perfectly, though it supposedly hadn’t been used in more than a decade.

The place had a dusty, stale smell to it, like Anna imagined a museum vault or an ancient tomb might smell. An emergency light over the door cast a pale white glow that didn’t extend more than a stride out, but Arthur went to a control panel on the wall nearby and pushed buttons. A whirr and a hum sounded as dormant power lines and circuits came back to life. A bank of lights came on, revealing the extent of the room in all its sleek, stainless-steel glory, hard lines and gray shadow. Along the right-hand wall were cabinets and cupboards, presumably containing the gadgets, devices, and artifacts that the Olympiad had used or acquired. On the opposite wall were the computer banks, multiple giant screens above keyboards and control panels, instruments of arcane purpose.

In the middle of the room was a metal conference table surrounded by a half dozen chairs. This was where it all happened, all those years ago.

Bethy went to the table, ran her hand along the surface, and looked back at Anna. “It isn’t dusty,” she said.

Arthur was at the computer bank, pressing buttons, watching screens flare on, displaying text and status messages.

“Your mother kept it all functional, all upgraded and ready to go. Just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” Anna asked.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at her. “Just in case we needed it.”

A ventilation fan started up, and the stale air dissipated. The computer fans were humming, and status lights flashed green. Arthur lifted a phone handset from its cradle.

“Captain Paulson, this is Dr. Mentis. That’s right, you heard me. Celia’s missing … I’m certain.” He covered the mouthpiece and said to Anna, “Where did you last sense her? Where’s the last location you can confirm?”

This was surreal. This was a dream. It was crazy. A piece of history coming to life, something out of an old story. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She shook her head to try to focus. “The courthouse. About half an hour ago. She should have been on the way home, but when I checked she was just gone.”

“Do you have any cameras at the courthouse, Captain? Would you mind sharing the feeds? I’ve activated the old system. I believe Celia gave you the codes.” The smile Arthur wore was thin and predatory. He was on the hunt. “Yes, I do think it’s that serious. Let’s just find her, then we can learn what’s really going on.”

“Serious, what do you mean serious?” Bethy said, voice sharp. Anna thought she should comfort her. Put her arm around her sister, like her father had. Be a grown-up for once. She was also pretty sure Bethy would just shove her away. But Bethy looked so scared.

He pressed a few more keys, and the images on the peripheral screens flipped to show street scenes downtown: traffic and security cameras around the courthouse.

“We’ll have to back up to about an hour ago and track forward,” Arthur murmured. The scenes on the images sped up, people scurrying down the sidewalk like insects, cars zipping in and out of frame, doors to the building swinging open and closed, over and over. They watched, all of them intent on one hoped-for figure, the middle-aged woman with short red hair, wearing the slick business suit. She didn’t appear, yet.

Maybe Mom was asleep. But no, Anna could find her when she was sleeping. So maybe unconscious—in an emergency room somewhere? Should they call hospitals?

Dad wouldn’t be acting like this if he thought it was that simple.

“Dad,” Anna said, tentative. This was thinking out loud, but if she did it out loud maybe she wouldn’t scare herself. “Have you ever heard anyone talk about the Executive?”

He turned from the screens. “The Executive? In what sense?”

“It’s just rumors. But I’ve heard a few people talking about a villain—a new archvillain, like the Destructor, but different. This one is manipulating things behind the scenes, working in secret, but through official channels.”

“And nobody knows who he is, of course. Shadowy, powerful,” he said.

“Right. It’s just that I was thinking, if … if you were a villain, and you wanted to take over the city using political channels, corporate channels, stuff like that, what would you do?”

“I would target Celia.”

“Do you think somebody might have taken her?” Anna winced, because she didn’t want it to be true, she wanted the idea to be crazy. But Arthur didn’t tell her she was crazy.

“Somebody powerful enough to be able to keep me from looking for her. It’s possible.”

Bethy was hugging herself, looking up at the screens. Then she lunged forward, pointing. “There! There she is!”

Arthur went to the control panel to stop the footage, rewind it, play it back. He spoke into the handset he’d held aside. “Captain, we’ve found her, on the corner security camera.”

Alone, their mother left the courthouse looking tired but pleased, smiling with a flash in her eyes. The hearing must have gone well. She ducked into the coffee shop on the corner, also something she’d do. They waited; Anna held her breath, like this was some kind of thriller, and the bad guy was about to strike.

Coffee in hand, Celia left the shop and continued down the street and off the screen. Anna almost screamed.

“You’ve picked her up?” Arthur said to the phone, and the image shifted. The angle from the new camera was high, looking across an intersection. Traffic camera. And there she was, approaching the intersection—until two people in dark coats and sunglasses joined her, walking on either side. They’d ducked out from a doorway, making their approach look natural—just two people who wanted a word with her. But one of them stuck something into her shoulder, through her jacket, and then a car pulled up to the curb. Before Celia could react, they’d guided her into the backseat.