Page 24 of Connected
“Telling you to let him go won’t do any good. And I wouldn’t trust you to keep your end of any agreement.”
“Fair enough.”
It was clear that Miller was still considering his options, and also clear that none of them would be good for Owen or Keaton. Stalling for time was the best tactic Owen could think of. “Why are you doing this? Even if I joined you, the two of us aren’t enough to take over the world.”
“Oh, it’s not just the two of us. We are legion.”
Owen shook his head. “Don’t pretend you have a demon army. I know demons.” There was Tenrael, of course, and a few others he’d encountered over the years. They weren’t exactly nice guys, but they weren’t necessarily evil. Like humans, they made choices—some good, some bad.
Miller did his fucking annoying chuckle. “You recognized the phrase. You must be a churchgoing man.”
“No.”
“I was too, once upon a time. It’s all nonsense—all religions are—but they do serve a useful purpose now and then, don’t they?”
“I’m not interested in discussing theology.”
“No,” Miller said. “You want useful intel, don’t you? Not that it’ll do you any good. But maybe it’ll help you reach a decision once you know exactly what I’m asking you to join. There are many of us, Agent Clark. Human and otherwise. Since long before you were born we have been identifying individuals who could be useful to our cause, and we’ve been persuading them to join us. And once they have, each one turns around and finds other new recruits.”
Owen tried to understand this. “It’s a pyramid scheme? You’re the Amway of evil? Then who the hell’s at the top?”
Miller shrugged. “I have no idea. It doesn’t matter. This is a process in which every contributor’s work is valuable. Not like your Bureau, which will hardly miss you when you’re gone.”
This struck closer to home than Owen wanted to admit. He’d always been taught that Townsend chose agents with care, picking only those who he knew would be important to the Bureau’s mission. Hell, Townsend had said so himself. Early in Owen’s career, this had made him puff up with pride. He might have once been an unwanted kid from Copper Springs, but now he wassomeone. Except… whatever potential Townsend hadseen in him had never been fulfilled. Owen was an adequate agent, but that was all. He was nothing special.
Perhaps sensing Owen’s thoughts, Miller hoisted himself onto the nearest metal table and sat with his legs crossed. “Wouldn’t you like to be something more, Agent Clark? Wouldn’t you like to make a difference?”
“Not when it means harming others.”
Miller scowled. “Don’t act self-righteous. You’ve harmed plenty of others in pursuit of the Bureau’s goals.”
“Not the same thing.”
God, Owen was tired. The ache from his abused joints had settled in deeply, and the rest of his body protested from Miller’s nasty magic trick and the smaller, more run-of-the-mill tortures he’d inflicted earlier. It had been a long day and was getting late. He would almost have sold his soul for a glass of water, some maximum-strength gummies, and his familiar bed.
Almost. Because it wasn’t just his soul at stake. He tried not to focus on Keaton, in hopes that Miller would ignore him too.
“Why are you doing this to me specifically? Or was I just the one you happened to catch?”
“It’s you. For one thing, it’s exceptionally handy that you’re a Bureau agent. But you’re interesting in your own right. I couldn’t say why. It’s… intuition. You’re not my only target, of course—I have many. But you are one of them.”
“So you came out to the middle of nowhere and set a trap, hoping that I’d stumble into it.”
“It’s… not that simple.” Miller stared up at the ceiling while he thought. That gave Owen the opportunity for a quick glance at Keaton, who hadn’t yet moved. Then Miller turned his attention back to Owen. “We are currently not in the coal tipple, or in Wyoming at all. This room is a construct I’ve created. For my convenience, it has connections to many places on the planet, although I should note that only one connection can be open atany one time, and opening them takes a good deal of effort. Our work isn’t always easy, my friend.”
Owen managed not to bristle at the false familiarity, and after a moment, Miller continued. “I’ve made it hard for anyone to find the portal between here and ordinary space. I allowed you in, of course. I’d been hoping for years to lure you here. I tried baiting my trap.” He shook his head in false sorrow. “I really thought you’d come back after I killed your mother.”
His mother. Owen had carefully kept her out of his head for so long that the wordmotherfelt alien. And the fact that this bastard had apparently murdered her… well, Owen couldn’t process that right now.
Miller was still speaking. “Your friend somehow managed to blunder his way in, which puzzles me. When our business here concludes—with one resolution or another—I’ll close this portal permanently and open another to take myself back home. If you choose wisely, you’ll be with me. If not, you’ll be a corpse in a coal tipple.” He laughed as if this were funny. “I have dozens of portals all across the United States. Sooner or later, I catch all my prey.”
“I don’t get it. You say you’re human, yet you can do this kind of shit.”
“Iwashuman. Now I’m something more. Much like your beloved Chief Townsend, I should add. And you can be as well.”
Owen wasn’t exactly surprised by this revelation about his former chief, who was creepy as hell and capable of a lot of things generally beyond human skill sets. And the thing was, while Owen had never been entirely thrilled with himself, the idea of becoming another…species? It filled his veins with ice water.
But it was also exciting.
