George R.R. Martin - [Wild Cards 18] (37 page)

It was a tight fit inside the elevator, but with John Fortune back as John Fortune and not a monstrous lioness, they made it. Osiris punched the button and they scooted upward to the private penthouse of the Living Gods in the heart of the Luxor pyramid.

“We must have something around here that would fit you,” Isis said, as they entered the living area of a spacious suite. She rattled off some sentences in Arabic to the dog-faced god, who looked to be about Fortune’s size. “Go with Anubis. He can lend some clothes that should fit. When you return, we’ll have refreshments.”

“And answers for my questions?” Fortune asked.

Isis smiled. “Of course.”

Feeling like an idiot, Fortune borrowed the ostrich-feather fans from their bearers and followed Anubis, who seemed friendly enough (if John could accurately read his grinning canine features) but had little English. Fortune was glad to score jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers.

By the time he returned, drinks and snacks had been laid out. Bugsy and Lohengrin were conspicuous by their absence. Only three senior members of the group—Thoth, Osiris, and Isis—were awaiting him.

“Don’t worry about your friends.” Thoth hadn’t changed since the last time John had seen him. His features were birdlike, with a long, sharp beak that gave his words an odd clacking cadence. “We have set them up in their own suite where they can refresh themselves and relax. Much of what we have to say here should stay among family.”

“I’m flattered that you think of me in those terms.” Fortune balanced a plate of pastries dripping with honey in one hand and a tiny cup of coffee loaded to the top with sugar in the other. “I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Osiris, who had little English, spoke a rapid stream of Arabic. Like Thoth, he was also little changed since Fortune’s last trip to Vegas. He was brown-skinned and thin, lean to the point of emaciation, with a bald head, dark chin beard, and dark, vibrant eyes. He looked like an antediluvian rock star who ate too little and spent way too much time in the sun. Thoth translated his words into precise English, unaccented but for his
strange lisp. “We need Sekhmet now more than we ever have. She was meant to be the greatest among our people, our champion and shield against those who would destroy us—but, as you well know, things do not always work out as they should.”

Isis took up the story. “Isra was born in Alexandria, of a family who had for generations worked the docks. The gods certainly work in mysterious ways. Yes, they gave her great powers. But her body, ill-nourished, worn out by childbirth and a life of hard work, could not contain the tremendous energies needed to fuel them. She was forced to…to
change
, in yet another way. To shrivel onto herself, to go into a deep sleep—until one would come whose body could be her vessel.”

“You.” Thoth nodded his head like a bird pecking for bugs. “You, who should have been an ace, you whose heritage was stripped from you. We beg you, please, to let Sekhmet live through you.”

Fortune swallowed a honeyed date, choking. “As a parasite in my body?”

Thoth shrugged. “Surely, more of a symbiote. She does nothing to harm you.”

“But I don’t want her inside me, controlling me. Why can’t she share
your
body? Or yours, or his?”

Isis looked sad. “If we could, we would serve her. But we lack your strength.”

Osiris nodded vigorously as Thoth translated his words again. “Surely,” Osiris said, “you have seen the news out of Egypt.”

“Some,” Fortune said. “I’ve been busy.”

“Of course,” Osiris continued. “The whole world has been busy while hundreds of our people have been killed. And without Sekhmet to protect them, it will only get worse. Hundreds of thousands of innocents—men, women, and children—all will die. The Living Gods themselves will pass from this world, starting a new dark age that will cast its shadow across the globe. Sekhmet
must
return to Egypt.”

“Why can’t she return in your head?” Fortune snapped. “I have my own life—a job. Friends. I’m supposed to go back to college in the fall.”

Isis looked significantly at Thoth and Osiris. “We understand.
You are tired. Much strangeness has been thrust upon you. We should talk later, when you have had a chance to rest.”

“Yeah,” Fortune said. “That’s a good idea. I’m really tired. I should call my mom. Let her know that I’m all right. Something will work out, I’m sure of it.”

“Yes.” Thoth didn’t look at him.

“I’ll call Anubis,” Isis said. “He’ll take you to the room we’ve arranged for you.”

“Thanks.” Somehow John couldn’t meet her eyes.

Osiris stopped him as he stood to leave, taking his hand with a devil-may-care glint in his old, glittery eyes, and barked a few sentences in Arabic.

“What did he say?” Fortune asked Thoth.

“He said,” Thoth replied, “that he is not worried. That he knows that you will do the right thing in the end. In visions he has seen you leading a great and powerful army, bloodied but unbeaten, your heart’s desire at your side.”

Anubis was waiting, like a grinning puppy. He had the eyes of a puppy, eager and trusting. Fortune couldn’t look at him either. They left the Living Gods’ quarters and Anubis led him down a corridor to his room, bowed down low to him, and left.

Fortune settled into the comfy chair. He had to call his mother, but later. There was still too much on his mind. He turned on the TV, turned down the sound, and dialed room service to order more food. The channel was CNN. He watched the news flicker by silently as he put in his order for steak sandwiches, fries, and a couple of milkshakes. He couldn’t decide between chocolate and strawberry, so he ordered both as he watched President Kennedy and his hot actress wife receive foreign dignitaries at the White House. When a story about Egypt came on, John turned up the sound.

It was terrible. A bunch of fanatics calling themselves Ikhlas al-Din were killing jokers in Cairo—women and children as well as men. Fortune stared at the horrific images on the screen. He couldn’t believe that no one was protecting these people. That the authorities were allowing this to happen. Something had to be done.

Someone…someone had to do something.

He turned off the television, unable to watch any more. The words Lohengrin had spoken before they’d burned down his mother’s house came back to him. “You must find your destiny,” the German had said. “If God has need of you, and this is the path your honor demands, you must go.” John got up out of the chair and paced around the room. He didn’t know if God needed him, but there was sure as hell a bunch of poor devils in Egypt who did.

The doorbell rang and Fortune called out, “Yeah?”

The door opened. It was his food. A smiling bellboy wheeled it in with a flourish.

“Thanks,” Fortune muttered. He signed for it, and when the bellboy noticed the size of the tip he smiled even further.

“Thank
you
, sir.”

Fortune didn’t even notice that he left. He took the cover off the dish on the cart. The steak sandwiches and fries looked great and smelled even better, but suddenly his appetite had disappeared. He wanted to
do
something, but all he could do was pace.

He thought of Kate. How he had spoken about wanting to make a difference. He did. He did want to help people. What he went through to try to regain his ace …

And now. Here was another opportunity.

Most people never got one in their entire lives. So far, he’d had two.

He could take it, or he could go back to being Captain Cruller for the rest of his life.

He flopped down into the comfy chair. He had to think. Kate …

His heart’s desire?

When he closed his eyes, exhaustion took him. Fortune fell asleep.

He woke in the shower.

He didn’t remember getting into bed, sleeping, getting out of bed, undressing, and going into the bathroom. That bothered him.

But then a lot of things had been bothering him lately, and he still felt enough residual weariness to suspect that he hadn’t slept well at all. Given the events of the last couple of days, that was hardly surprising.

He felt for Isra’s presence in his mind, and found her, silent, curled up like a kitten in a dark corner. He still wasn’t sure what to think of her, of what her presence in his life offered him, for good and bad. He pondered as he washed his hair, soap-slick fingers slipping over the amulet that weighed like a stone against his forehead. He was getting into deep waters. Maybe deep enough to close over his head and drown him. John had no illusions about himself. He liked to think that he was reasonably bright, but he knew he was terribly inexperienced in the ways of the world. He had been sheltered and protected all his life, and he suspected that, by nature, he was a little more trusting—
all right, naive
—than most. He pondered this as he dried himself off, and went back into the bedroom to dress in his borrowed clothing.

But if he could believe in Isra, if he could trust her, she offered him the type of life that he had once tasted, and lost. Not that he regretted the loss of his ace.
Not much, anyway
. He could have done good with it, but clearly it was out of control. Whether his ace had been inherently unstable or something in Fortune himself had been tacking—training, focus, willpower—he knew that his father had sacrificed his life to save him, and perhaps save the entire world as well.

But that stage of his life was over. Isra was offering him entry onto a new stage. If he could believe her. If he could trust her.

The phone rang. He had a sudden premonition.

“John?”

“Hello, Mom.” He didn’t ask her how she’d managed to track him down. Peregrine had her ways.
And her detectives
. “Sorry, I meant to call you last night—I mean, last morning, but I guess I fell asleep.”

“Thank God you’re all right.” Peregrine sounded relieved. That was good. “You
are
all right?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“That’s good.” Solicitous. “Now I won’t feel so bad about killing you.” Not so solicitous.

“Uh—”

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

“Yeah, uh—”

“Do you know that you and your idiotic friends burned my house down?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m really sorry—”

“My Emmys
melted!”

“Mom,” Fortune said quickly, “I’m, really, really sorry about that. But it couldn’t be helped. It was the lion. She breathes fire, and Lohengrin frightened her—”

“The lion.” Ice cold. This was not good. “I see. I hear, also, that that amulet, that thing, is in your head. I should have thrown it away years ago!”

“Mom.” He took a deep breath. Suddenly it all seemed very clear to him. “Really, this is a great opportunity.”

“You have a
thing
in your head.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

“How can you be sure that it’s not controlling your brain?”

“What, Isra?”

“If that is its name.”

“Isra’s not an ‘it.’ She’s a woman. An Egyptian woman. And I’d know.”

“How?”

“I’d
know,”
Fortune repeated firmly. “It’s not as if we don’t have discussions with each other. Arguments, even. It’s not like she’s turned me into some kind of robot or something.”

“John—” Peregrine said, anguish in her voice.

“Listen, Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. I’m grown up. You can’t treat me like a kid, surround me with bodyguards, watch over me twenty-four hours a day.” Again, Lohengrin’s words came unbidden into his mind. “I’ve got to find my own destiny.”

“It’s not your destiny, John. It’s what that creature in your head wants.”

“That’s not true.”

“How do you know? How can you know that?”

“Because,” Fortune said quietly. “I wanted it, too, before I put the amulet on. I’ve always wanted it. I don’t want to work on TV shows, fetching donuts, doing errands. I want to be
someone who can do important things. Who can make a difference in the world. Like my father. Like you. You were my age when you fought the Astronomer.”

“That was different.”

“How?” Fortune asked.

“I was in control. I knew what I was doing. You—you’re
younger
than I was. And maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I did protect you too much. Sheltered you. But you’re my son. I couldn’t stand by and let something awful happen to you. And this…this Isra. We just don’t know what it’s doing to you. Can’t you see that? We have to at least get it checked out. I can be there by seven in the morning. I’ve messengered a credit card and some ID. Just stay put until I get there. We’ll charter a plane and have you at the Jokertown Clinic before we know it. Dr. Finn will be able to help. I know he will.”

Suddenly all of Fortune’s certainty was gone. He couldn’t forget the fear he’d felt when the amulet had burrowed into his body. The feeling of someone else locking him up in his own head, controlling him. It was creepy, and it was frightening.

And Isra would be with him, always.
For the rest of my life
.

“I don’t know,” he said hollowly.

“I do,” Peregrine said. “Sit tight. I’ll be with you before you know it. You’re my son, and I love you.”