Li soon appeared, a heavy gauss rifle held at the ready. His business suit was crisp, and not a hair on his head was out of place. Alexi had done all of his fighting. He passed her body without so much as a glance. At last, he noticed Michael crouching in the dark shadows beneath the pneuma bus.
“There you are," Li said. "Is that all the better you can do?”
“Where’d you get the gun?” Michael asked.
“I picked it up off the ground. Its former owner no longer had a use for it. The Guard was no match for your supercharged girlfriend. If those lazy priests hadn’t left their equipment lying around unsecured, this would be over. That was good thinking on your part. I didn’t imagine you had the nerve to try something like that.”
“At least I don’t use innocent people to do my fighting,” Michael snapped.
Li smirked. “I would not call anyone innocent, least of all her. But she is gone, and I have a job to finish. Will you come out and take it like a man, or die in your hole like a rat?”
“Fuck you.”
Li chuckled. “No, thank you.” He knelt to get a clear shot. But when he shouldered the rifle, a gigantic figure made of ropy shadow reared up beside him. He leapt away with a yelp, right into the side of the gleaming pneuma bus. He hung transfixed, surrounded by a nimbus of grey light. A seizure overtook him, and he collapsed.
Michael scuttled out of his hiding place, pointedly ignoring the silent monster. He went to examine Li. The dapper little man lay rigid, his hands clenched into tight fists. His breath came in long, slow swells, like a sleeper’s. A sharp poke elicited no response. Michael shuddered. Another of Jørgen’s warnings was proved true. Li’s body was alive, but Li himself was no longer present.
As an afterthought, Michael stooped to retrieve a small crystal disk lying at the feet of the looming monster. He touched a stud on the side, and the hideous creature vanished.
“Thanks, Professor,” he said, and pocketed the holoemitter.
Leaving the husk of his adversary behind, Michael knelt again with the corpse of Alexi. He embraced her, and caressed her once-beautiful cheek. “I failed, Alechka,” he confessed tearfully.
Someone laid a hand on his shoulder.
Michael whipped his head around to discover Jørgen Pangloss standing over him, very much alive, and wearing a smile all out of keeping with the situation. A bundle of fabric was tucked under his arm.
“On the contrary, Michael Borisovich. You have not failed yet,” he said.
“But, but, I watched you die!” Michael stammered.
Jørgen’s silver eyes sparkled with amusement. “Were I so easy to kill, I should be dead a thousand times over. But this moment is not mine. From the first you have not ceased to impress me. I marked you as a man of quality, but by itself that would hardly suffice. Yet to quality you have added humility, and to humility resilience, and finally, resourcefulness. There remains but a final test.”
Michael glared at him through tear–filled eyes. “I don’t want your compliments, and I don’t care to take your test,” he said bitterly.
“What do you want, then?”
“I want Alexi!” Michael roared. “I want to see her smile again, to hear her laugh again! I want to dream big dreams with her. I want to make love to her, not just use her the way you did! I want to play in the park with our children. She is all that I would have, even if all the stars of heaven were offered to me instead! Because you cannot give her to me, you can keep your words, and this evil place, and let me take her home.”
Jørgen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Is she your price?” he asked.
“My what?! What are you saying?”
“If she is returned to life, do you agree to become my servant, and take possession of the foundry?”
Michael was thunderstruck, his anguish drowning in a tempest of hope and fear. “Are...are we negotiating?” he hissed.
“We are. Say quickly. Flesh is a forgiving medium, and there is a convenient source of zoë nearby, but her soul will soon fly wither it would go. It answers to a higher authority. I cannot compel it to stay.”
His words slowly sank in. So, this is the price, Michael thought.
Jørgen answered his unspoken words. “The price of the stars? Aye, it is.”
“No. The price of my soul,” Michael corrected. He looked down at the dead woman in his arms. “But I will gladly pay it for you, Alechka” he whispered.
An immense grin blossomed on Jørgen’s face. “Excellent! You have added self-sacrifice to your portfolio. The last test is passed. Congratulations, Michael Borisovich! I look forward to doing business with you.”
“Talk later! What of Alexi?!” Michael demanded.
“She’ll soon want these,” Jørgen replied, and tossed him the bundle. Michael caught it. It was Alexi’s clothes and boots.
Jørgen glanced down at his ancient timepiece and frowned. “I really do have urgent business elsewhere. Fra Grimaldi will show you to your office. Once the necessary introductions have been made and you’ve settled in, he will release Inscrutable to you. Good luck in your new position. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He bowed politely, and turned to leave.
“Wait, wait!” exclaimed Michael. “Who are you?”
“I am your liege lord and master, forever. Good day, Michael Borisovich,” Jørgen replied, and disappeared into thin air like a ghost.
Michael gaped at the spot where he’d stood, astounded. Then his eyes fell on the body of Li. It was dead, parchment-dry and crumbling to dust. “...there is a convenient source of zoë nearby...”
Alexi stirred in his lap. She drew in a deep breath, and opened her eyes. Not a single blemish remained on her naked skin. “Ah, Mishka! What a terrible dream I’ve had,” she exclaimed unhappily.
...
This is the penultimate chapter of What Price the Stars? Please stay tuned for the epilogue.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14