Titan Song by Dan Stout (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📕

Tell her, Paulus had said, and I knew that I’d find a way.

“Why are you here?” Hands clasped over her knee, Gellica stared at me. There was iron under her voice, and I fought back an impulse to snarl.

“The same reason you’re suddenly working above your pay grade.”

She glanced at the door. “My attorney should be present for this. She’ll be here shortly.”

“Well, we’re not your lawyers . . .”

“On that, at least, we’re agreed.”

“But we don’t want Paulus imprisoned for something she didn’t do.”

“Are you implying that I can’t trust the police department to seek justice?”

“I’m saying that you should consult with your attorney, and then do everything to help us.” I shrugged. “And be a little hesitant about trusting anyone else asking about the case.”

Gellica’s smile was faint. “Don’t worry. I’ve put more than enough trust in the police before this. It won’t happen again.” She straightened in her chair. “I don’t know what caused that sinkhole, but I know the ambassador didn’t have anything to gain from it.”

“We don’t see how she’d benefit, either,” I said. “But the sinkhole isn’t her primary concern.”

“No? Because by arresting her you’ve made it our primary concern, when we should be focusing on helping the citizens regain their heat and get back to a normal life.” Gellica crossed her legs. “As you said, you’re not my lawyer. But she’s on her way.”

“Paulus isn’t being charged with creating a sinkhole,” I said. “You know that. You also know the charges are about tampering with the vents.” I reached into my coat pocket and drew out a set of glossy photos of the mummified bodies. “There was another body in the sinkhole,” I said. “A teenage girl. We haven’t been able to identify her yet. I’m sure her parent is very worried about her.”

“I’m sure they are.” She’d missed my use of the singular parent.

“I think you should see this one, and maybe ponder it. Look into a mirror, if that’s what it takes.”

She squinted, staring me down. I shook the photos again, and she accepted them. The dead AFS man was on top, and she flipped past it with only a downward tug at her lips. But her jaw dropped when she saw the mummified girl. I knew that she recognized proof of Paulus’s experiments blending manna and science. Gellica had been born of that illegal research, aided by a morally bankrupt researcher. The same Dr. Heidelbrecht who ultimately went to work for Vandie Cedrow’s uncle, producing a gas that drove innocents to kill, and led to the discovery of the manna strike.

“Is this . . .”

“They were found inside the geo-vents.” I shifted my weight. It was an awkward dance of a conversation. I wanted to say, Pack your things and run. I wanted to tell her that being a magical clone put as much of a target on her back as the manna threads did on mine. There were limits to what I could say, because Jax was there. But then again, having Jax there was what prevented it from devolving into a shouting match.

She handed the photos back face down, as if they would be that easy to erase. “I can’t help you.”

“Keep them,” I said. “See if they jog any memories.” She’d told me that she was the only one of Paulus’s experiments to be viable. Of a dozen brood mates, she’d said, I was the only one to survive. That photo proved otherwise. There had been others before Gellica.

“If there’s anything you know about Ambassador Paulus’s past, this would be a good time to tell us,” said Jax.

I nodded. “It’ll all come out in the end, but we don’t have time to fight this out in court.”

She coughed out a laugh. “That’s what courts are for.”

“People are going to die,” I said.

Jax hummed a somber note. “There might be more weaknesses in the vent system. If more sinkholes are on the way, it could be catastrophic.”

“You’ve spent your entire life protecting the dead, and now you’re so interested in saving the living. Why now?” She didn’t say, Why did you wait until we weren’t speaking?

“I always cared about the living,” I said.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Gellica broke eye contact, and glanced at the door again. The attorney would be showing up shortly. “Some people talk a big game, Carter.”

“Like Vandie Cedrow?” Jax’s question surprised me, but it was a smart ask. I’d raised questions about Vandie enough that it was worth establishing any connection between the Cedrow and Paulus threads.

Gellica raised an eyebrow. “I suppose so.”

“You know her?”

“I know of her. Bright, had a good reputation until her family situation . . .” She punctuated the sentence with a what-can-you-do wave of her hand. If anyone understood odd family, it was Gellica. “But she’s a socialite, not a power player. She wants to make change, but doesn’t quite know how to do it.”

Jax looked thoughtful as he cleaned off a tusk with a handkerchief. “Not like grassroots organizations. I’ve seen the difference those make firsthand.” I knew he meant Talena’s work.

Gellica nodded, as if awarding him a point. “Street-level organizers are important, and it feels good to look people in the eye as you’re helping them. I respect that, I do. But it’s not what’s truly effective.”

I crossed my arms. “I suppose you’re about to tell us what is?”

Jax clacked his teeth at me and I stopped talking.

“Real change,” she said, “change on the kind of scale that matters? It’s made not in gossip magazines, not on the streets, and not even in the halls of power.”

“No?”

“No. It’s made over dinner. In box seats at an opera or carabella match.”

My lips pulled back, and I fought to minimize the sneer in my voice. “The rich making decisions for the rest of us.”

“There are a limited number of people who have the ability to create waves,” she said. “Drop a pebble in a lake, and it creates a blip. Even the most well-intentioned pebble, and