Trouble in Paradise - Chapter 1, Part 2

"And that, Miss Downing, was the last time I opened a sarcophagus without knocking first.”

Mary laughed, mostly politely, while simon slipped in beside Hammad with a platter of wine glasses.  The evening, so far, was going perfectly.  The sun setting behind the hills took the edge off the brutal heat, and the four of them traded stories over dinner (really more a case of everyone else listening to Hammad as he rambled) on the rooftop like old friends.

The next thing Hammad knew, his plate disappeared and a glass of wine appeared in its place.  His amusement at his own punchline turned to delight.

“I like this manservant of yours, Miss Downing.  I may have to get one for myself.”

“Well, if I have anything to do with it, soon you may be wealthy enough for a dozen of him.”  Mary accepted her own glass from Simon, lifting it toward her guests.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Karida interjected before her husband could begin another story.  “We had business to discuss tonight, didn’t we?”

Mary shrugged, “Eventually.  But I think it’s good for any prospective partners to spend some time getting to know each other.”

“Speaking of, I can’t say we know too much about our mysterious hostess.  Tell me, Miss Downing, how did you come to hear about our operation if you are not in the business of relic collecting.”

“Ah”  Mary looked thoughtfully down at her glass and took a sip.  She knew she’d have to word this reply carefully.

“Some years ago, I was involved with a certain organization whose many branches included a company called OCC Imports.”

“OCC?”  The good cheer immediately left the faces of her guests.  For a moment, they both found the surface of the table very interesting before Karida spoke up first.  “I see.  We used to supply them.  Some years ago, as you say.  The way they severed their contracts so abruptly left a bitter taste, for both of us.”

“Oh, many changes happened in that company several years ago that I do not approve of.  I can tell you they’re no friends of mine anymore either.” The sharpening of Mary’s deliberately polite tone, and the way she glanced out over her rooftop and toward the sea, betrayed the depth of her understatement.  “But, since you asked, that is where I came to hear about you.  And to know that you were always reliable in your work.”

“Then, perhaps we are still potential good friends after all.”  The smile cautiously returned to Karida’s face, and she lifted her wine glass in Mary’s direction.

“I take it you work for another company now, then, Miss Downing?” Hammad spoke up as he looked up, his interest returning.

“I have founded my own organization, yes.  We call ourselves Pacific Sun.”

“Pacific Sun?”  Karida is not a fool.  She knew fully well that any group that referred to itself as an organization and called itself something was most likely a front.  OCC Imports was a front.  They’d figured that out not long into their dealing with them.  But, at the same time, she also knew that any less-than-legitimate company with the resources to make an offer under such plush circumstances could potentially be quite lucrative.

She glanced to her husband beside her, who gave her a look that said he had exactly the same thoughts.

Mary watched the gears spinning in the heads of her guests, before both of them turned to her, intrigued.

“And what business, exactly, does Pacific Sun have with an excavator of ancient relics?  That is, according to what you said earlier, not the relics themselves?”

Mary glanced over her shoulder at Simon, hovering quietly out of sight.  “Simon, dear, could you bring me the metal box sitting on my dresser?”

As Simon turned and slipped down the stairs, Mary returned her attention to her guests.  “When excavating ancient burial sites, as you both well know, one has a tendency to uncover more than just art pieces and grave goods.  There are ancient texts, often containing knowledge dead and forgotten for centuries.  The remains of the dead themselves.  Items rumored to be imbued with mystic powers...”

Wordlessly, Simon stepped up behind Mary and set the box down in front of her.  She produced a small key from inside her jacket and opened it.

“.. And this.”

The green crystal glowed with a sickly radiance.  Hammad and Karida reeled back as if she’d just dropped a live cobra on the table.

“Tiberium!  Do you have any idea what.. that rock can do to a man?!”

Mary remained calm, unfazed even as crystal emitted a small burst of glowing green sparks, which bounced on the table’s surface before winking out in tiny puffs of black smoke.  “Keenly aware, Mr. And Mrs. Sahrawi.  I am also aware that with proper handling, it is extremely useful - indeed, essential - for a variety of highly specialized applications.”

“Which is why it can only be purchased by specially licensed companies.”  Hammad clarified.

“Generally with the endorsement of a major world government.”  Karida felt compelled to add.

Mary half-shrugged.  “You’re right in that.  But the truth is, the number of government-endorsed buyers for Tiberium has declined significantly in the past decade.  And in the meantime, it still keeps turning up these ancient sites regardless.  The paperwork for its disposal is much easier to come by.  Which is what you two have been doing with it all along, yes?”  She closed the box in front of her, watching her guests with that same conspirational look Hammad recognized from their tour of the storehouse.

“That’s right, Miss Downing.  We have a Tiberium disposal site some miles outside of town.”  Hammad answered, still staring at the metal box as Mary locked it again.

Part of Hammad and Karida both wanted to get up and leave the table.  But, at the same time, something about the look on Mary’s face told them they would be passing up a great opportunity if they did.

“Such a shame to let such a valuable mineral go to waste.”  Mary passed the box back to Simon, who quietly carried it away, much to her guests’ relief.  “I mean, it’s so unstable.  Without proper long-term storage under specialized conditions, it loses potency and becomes nothing more than a pile of old quartz after just a couple years.  Which is what any disposal site hopes it’ll do, yes?”

“That, too, is right.  If we can do anything to avoid having a big pile of hazardous material laying around, we will.”  Hammad did his best to follow along, curious where Mary’s line of reasoning would take them.

Karida did not have the same confidence, however.  “You know I’m surprised you don’t just work directly with the disposal site, if that’s all you’re after.” she nearly snapped.

The remark earned her a sharp look from her husband, but Mary accepted it with good grace.

“I considered it, initially.  But I like to be a little more proactive than that.  Why scoop up the discarded scraps of other peoples’ work when I could, instead, be creating an opportunity that would grow with time?  Both for myself, and for the people I worked with.”  Mary leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she smiled at her guests.  Her potential suppliers.

“Excuse us a moment, would you?”

Mary waved one hand “Take your time.”

Hammad and Karida stepped away from the table, finding a far corner to debate quietly between themselves.  In the meantime, Simon leaned in beside Mary and whispered, “They seem a bit more reluctant than we thought they'd be.”

“If they aren’t willing to work with me, I have some other options in mind.”  Mary sighed, watching her guests as their discussion moved to a very quiet argument.  “The question is whether or not I’ll let them leave if they say no.”

“I’m not sure if I like this idea of..” Karida hunted for the words “Smuggling Tiberium.  Or enabling the smuggling of tiberium.”

“You didn’t mind selling relics to OCC.”  Hammad pointed out.

“Those were just relics!” she protested.

“Ancient texts.  Fragments of murals depicting old rituals.  And shady about it the whole way.  They were up to something too and we both knew it.”

Karida opened her mouth, but no words came out.  That she could not protest.  She took a few seconds to collect her thoughts.  “I guess it was easier to not think about it then.  With them.  This is... different.”

“So Miss Downing is just more honest about what she’s up to.  I think I like that about her, actually.”  Hammad tried his best to be reassuring.  He knew what Tiberium was worth, and the more he thought about it, the more the money tempted him.

So did Karida.  She glanced back at Mary and Simon as they had their own conversation.  “Fine.  But I want some assurance from her that we aren’t going to be getting caught.  It would be hard to escape suspicion if we’re digging up the desert but not selling anything.”

“You’re right, my dear.”  Hammad nodded slowly, the wheels turning in his head.  “You know, I think we might be able to make this deal one step better for us.  If she really does want our tiberium, that is.”

As the pair headed back to the table, Mary looked back up at them with her conspiring smile, but perhaps a little more predatory than before.  They tried not to let it put them off.

“Well, we talked it over.”

“And?” Mary did her best to look hopeful and encouraging.

“We would love to help you, Miss Downing.  But there’s just not much business in excavating relics around here anymore.  It’d be hard, given the present circumstances, to find a legitimate reason to scale up operations again enough to meet any significant tiberium demand on the side.”  Hammad trailed off, intentionally leaving his statement open for interpretation.  Or suggestion.



Karida backed up her husband’s story by putting on her best quietly forlorn look.  Which in truth, she was.

Not a yes.  Not a no.  Mary hmmed to herself, rising from her seat and stepping over to the railing.  She looked out over the landscape beyond her hilltop home as she considered their answer.

Far in the distance, through the last shimmers of heat from the sand, alabaster statues of ancient gods lurked among the pillars of their crumbling temples.  And the pyramids, monolithic graves to forgotten kings, stood guard over the fortunes concealed in their walls.  Directly below her, a turquoise river wound its way through the barren dunes.

The answer came to her. One so simple, she almost laughed at it.  “Oh, the mystique of this land will never die.  After all, everything the ancient people built here was aimed at finding immortality.  The interest is out there.  It’s just not aimed here, in this specific valley.  All it would take is making the right connections.”

Karida’s answer came from behind her, softly encouraging.  “Miss Downing, you strike me as something of an expert in making connections.”

Mary smiled.  “Indeed I am,” and spun around to face them both.  “In fact, I may have just the person in mind already.  I think you’ll be hearing from one of my associates very soon, Mr. and Mrs. Sahrawi.”

“We will be looking forward to it.”

----------

After bidding goodbyes and seeing Hammad and Karida to the door, Simon returned to the rooftop, where he found Mary still watching the landscape, ponderous.

“So, I have to know,” he interrupted cautiously.  “Is Tiberium really that dangerous?”

“Yes.” she answered simply.

Glancing back at Simon and noting the confusion on his face, she elaborated.  “Tiberium is essentially quartz crystal, irradiated by thanatonic energy.  Which is why you only find it in places, well, filled with death.  Tomb complexes, charnel houses, the sites of massive battles that nobody fully cleaned up after.  Or anywhere else large numbers of people were laid to rest.  And it does a real number on living tissue.  A person subjected to prolonged exposure will literally begin to rot away while still alive.  And they tend to lose their minds in the worst possible way in the process.”

“Oh wow.”  Simon blinked.  “No wonder it’s illegal to trade in.”

Mary laughed softly.  Half a cackle.  “Oh you have no idea.  You get your hands on enough of that crystal, you can build all sorts of interesting devices.  Teleporters.  Weaponry.  Certain types of aetheric manipulators that can give you control over the dead, as well as the living.  And those are just the currently-known, legal uses.  I mean we are talking about the raw essence of death, after all.”

“So what are you planning for it?”

The question came out with more curiosity than caution.  Simon was not an evil man, really, but every now and then in the face of his mistress’s plots, he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Mary took one of her servant-plaything’s hands, and gave him a peck on the cheek.  “Simon, my dear, while you are my favorite traveling companion and one of my most trusted minions, I’m afraid that would be telling.”

Then she leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

“I’ll just say it’s something terrible, that the world has never seen before.”