The guardian, p.44
The Guardian, page 44
They all stopped and peered at her.
Shigenobu Matakatsu smiled grimly. “Yes? What does the poster girl have to say? The so-called hero of the Robin Network. We’ve already done plenty to support your little network. It helps our brand quite a bit, not to mention it whets The Republic’s appetite for a very pricey buyout so they can be the ones to shut down the whole parade. I’m listening. What can you say that will change my mind?”
Everyone in the room watched her.
Reth and Meihui were breathlessly waiting. Hiroshi sat with his guardian’s hands rooted firmly on either shoulder.
With all eyes upon her, Iliya sought a prophetic solution. She cast her mind toward the celestial source of miracles.
But instead of divine words of wisdom, she received a distinct cosmic silence, a decisive lack of empathy from the spiritual world.
Her guardian watched her with a mixture of fondness and defeat.
“Nothing,” said Iliya in a flat voice. “Go ahead. Sell yourselves to The Republic.”
With a curt and self-satisfied nod, Shigenobu Matakatsu walked out of the conference room. His other C-suite executives followed.
“What are you doing?” asked Reth in alarm. “Why would you say that?”
“Just wait,” said Iliya quietly.
“But . . . you had his attention, and you only—”
“Wait,” Iliya repeated.
They stood in silence in the empty conference room, the loss and quiet settling in.
A piercing scream echoed down the hall.
Tenshi gasped and released Hiroshi’s shoulders. “The demons,” she breathed. “They have been . . . annihilated.”
“Our Father, Our King,” Iliya’s guardian murmured, bowing his head. “God overpowered them all.”
“But . . . imagine what that must do to a human heart,” Tenshi murmured faintly.
“It would be catastrophic to have demons still fused to your soul when God destroys them,” Iliya’s guardian replied.
Giving Iliya a bewildered look, Reth left the conference room. Meihui followed close behind. Others began rushing to the scene.
“It was his time,” Iliya said sadly.
Although Reth had little respect for the CEO of Toyosoni, he found the man’s death incredibly disturbing.
Shigenobu had died instantly when his heart exploded in his chest as if a grenade had detonated. While doctors could determine no logical explanation and found no evidence of foul play, the mysterious circumstances surrounding his gruesome death clearly struck fear in all his employees.
Toyosoni authorities had confined witnesses to the conference room until the autopsy returned. But it was clear the COO, acting as CEO until the board could appoint a new CEO, would sign into law all the preventative measures Reth had recommended.
Shigenobu’s death seemed like an expertly placed domino that set the rest of their plan smoothly in motion.
Reth knew he needed to talk to Iliya, but it was difficult to isolate her. With all the executives and security personnel—plus all the paperwork—Reth could hardly steal her gaze let alone a moment with her.
His moment finally came after the authorities approved their release. When everyone stood to leave the conference room, Reth seized Iliya’s elbow.
She glanced at him, then studied him. He could hardly imagine what his expression conveyed. He usually prided himself on his ability to shield his more assertive emotions, particularly during delicate diplomatic negotiations such as these, but Iliya had a way of unsettling him.
The executives, along with Hiroshi and Meihui, vacated the conference room. Only Reth and Iliya remained.
He tried to find the words.
Her chin tipped up a bit, her eyes firm and unyielding. Her quiet strength never failed to intimidate him.
He broke their gaze first and paced around the conference table. “You didn’t . . . kill him, did you?” His voice came out sounding weak and almost queasy.
Iliya shook her head. “No, I would never do that. He signed his own death sentence when he decided to sell Toyosoni.”
“But . . .” Reth sought the right phrasing. Clarifying this point was vital. “You knew he was going to die?”
Iliya sighed. “When I tried to use my prophetic powers to convince him, I hit a wall, and suddenly I knew what God had planned.” She frowned at him. “I told you—God is cruel. When something doesn’t fit his design, when he can’t force someone to follow his path, he just moves them out of the way.”
Reth tried to process the information. “So . . . God decided to kill him.”
“Not just kill him.” She took a step closer, her gaze unblinking with an almost eerie, otherworldly hollowness. “Kill him publicly. Kill him miraculously. Kill him in such a way to frighten people into submission.”
Reth shivered reflexively. “That’s cold-blooded.”
“Yes.”
“And you . . .” Reth swallowed, helplessness forming a knot in his throat. “You still follow this God anyway?”
“Not exactly.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I only follow him when it suits me. And I guess in return, he’ll keep me alive as long as I suit him.”
The prospect of her dying—of her not being alive—struck cold dread down his spine. He struggled to breathe. “That’s . . . not exactly comforting.”
Iliya closed the distance between them, but her closeness felt overwhelming. He needed her too much, too intensely, and he would surely collapse from the weight of it.
She grasped his hand, holding him steady, and guided him into a chair. She was truly capable of such tenderness when she wanted to be.
She sat beside him. “There’s something my mother told me once,” she said softly.
Reth blinked in surprise. Given the complexity of Iliya’s relationship with her mother, he was afraid to say anything lest he discourage her from continuing.
Iliya took a deep breath. “She said God is gods. And then she explained that gods are at war with one another over the fate of humanity.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Iliya leaned back with a frown, and Reth wondered if she expected him to have the answer. “But it’s bothered me ever since she first said it. Who am I following? Who killed Shigenobu Matakatsu today?”
“I just assumed you knew everything about the God you follow.”
She shook her head. “He may set my direction, but he remains a mystery to me.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Hiroshi peeked his head in. “Ms. Rusul? Mr. Alem? Your presence is requested.”
Something tugged Reth’s chest. He wanted more time alone with Iliya to discuss her predicament until it made sense, but they had a job to do.
Iliya rose, and Reth followed quickly, slipping his hand into hers. He wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet, even if they needed to rejoin the others.
Iliya did what she could to help Toyosoni executives weather the shocking demise of their leader and establish a strategy for resisting The Republic.
The CEO’s funeral was a massive affair; everyone in the epicenter was invited to attend. His wife and two children—a girl and a boy about Baq’s and Pamela’s ages—sat at the front while some of his friends and colleagues took turns speaking on his behalf. The wife did not speak at all; she remained in a sullen, trance-like silence. The speakers talked of Mr. Matakatsu’s determination, drive, ambition, and intelligence. No one mentioned qualities like kindness, compassion, empathy, or love.
After the funeral, Toyosoni executives ratified policies mandating that any new takeovers required a supermajority rather than a mere majority of stakeholders. They also agreed to establish stronger alliances with P&C, a competitor to The Republic. Some Toyosoni subsidiary executives prepared to negotiate with The Republic’s subsidiaries with the goal of buying some of The Republic’s stock.
Iliya gave them advice, similar to what she and Alisha used to provide, about how to keep their stock prices high.
Back at the hotel that evening, the team remained silent as they ate dinner. The ambiance seemed strangely subdued—even the food somehow tasted bland.
“Was this really the only way to get them to agree with us?” asked Reth softly, breaking the silence.
Hiroshi shrugged. “I’m sure if the gods saw a better way, they would have suggested it.”
Iliya laughed bitterly. “Maybe some gods are just punitive and vengeful.”
Hiroshi shook his head. “We may not always understand the logic of the divine, but it is not our place to judge. It is our task to intuit and obey.”
Reth raised his eyebrows. “You’re okay with the fact that you watched someone get murdered?”
“The gods do not murder,” Hiroshi corrected lightly. “It was his time to depart this world.”
“No.” Reth pushed his food away. “No, I don’t accept that.”
Iliya gave him a grim look but said nothing.
Meihui watched as she continued eating.
“We all have our time,” said Hiroshi serenely. “That is fate—we can’t fight it. As prophets, we feel it most of all. Every miracle shortens our lives. We will die young, our lives half-lived.”
Reth turned to Iliya, his eyes wide. The force of his emotion surprised her. Then he threw his napkin onto the table and stormed off.
Hiroshi turned to Iliya in puzzlement. “He does know miracles shorten our lives, right?”
Iliya nodded. “I told him a long time ago, but it’s possible he forgot. Or he just hasn’t thought about it in a while.”
They remained in silence.
“Iliya . . .” Hiroshi creased his brow, and his gentle tone seemed unusually tender. “The love of a prophet is . . . temporary. Divided. Any partner of a prophet must understand that.” He spoke slowly as if gathering his thoughts and trying to phrase his message in the best possible way. “It is a life of devotion to the masses. It is not a partnership to be taken on lightly.”
“I know that,” Iliya snapped more harshly than she intended. Softening, she squeezed Hiroshi’s hand. “I appreciate your wisdom. But . . . I’m not sure it will help in this case.”
“He’s right,” Meihui added in an uncharacteristically quiet and somber tone. “You’ve chosen the life of an activist, Iliya. And when you’re an activist, it’s best not to get too attached to anyone. Even those of us who aren’t prophets have trouble sustaining relationships. Revolutions and romance aren’t really compatible.”
“I’d better go after him.” Iliya left Hiroshi and Meihui sitting in silence.
Once inside the elevator, Iliya took a deep breath. Her heart fluttered strangely in her chest, and her throat was tight.
She reached Reth’s hotel room and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she tried again. She could hear him moving around, possibly pacing. “Reth, I know you’re in there. Let me in.”
He opened the door. His hair was ruffled, his shoulders taut. He seemed restless, scattered.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t accept this,” he answered.
“The CEO’s death? Or . . .” Iliya fell silent, knowing full well what he was really upset about—that her fate was bound so immutably to the will of a capricious and vengeful God.
His big black eyes fixed onto her like he could never tire of looking at her. He threw his arms around her and pulled her into a fierce embrace. His arms trembled as if he could keep her alive forever and bind her body to the Earth just by holding her tightly enough.
“Reth,” she whispered, breathing him in. “I’m not gone yet. Let’s be alive tonight.”
Clutching her hand, Reth welcomed her inside and shut the door behind her.
CHAPTER 50
The next morning, Iliya could see Reth was eager for them to leave Toyosoni.
“We’ve done what we came to do in Toyosoni,” he declared as he packed his belongings. “It’s time to start somewhere new.”
Iliya had to admit she agreed with him. But still, she figured it would be wise to check with her guardian just to be sure.
While Reth continued packing, Iliya sat on the floor and meditated.
As her spirit lifted out of her body, she spotted her guardian hovering against the wall. She was always impressed by his ability to stuff such a massive body into the corners of small rooms.
“Hi,” she greeted. “Reth thinks it’s time for us to leave.”
“So I heard,” the guardian drawled.
“Well . . . do you agree?”
He shrugged. “Does my opinion really matter to you?”
She rolled her eyes. “It just . . . seems like our work here is mostly done. The executives agreed to everything we suggested. And the media coverage is focused on the CEO—interviews with his friends and family, the headhunters tasked with replacing him—”
“So what is it you really want to know?”
Iliya frowned as her guardian surveyed her with his usual cheeky smile. “Why did God kill the CEO?”
“You already know the answer to that question,” he replied slowly.
She ducked her head. “Because it needed to be done.”
He gave a single nod.
“But . . . I thought humans had free will. If God can just . . . kill anyone who doesn’t fit his plan—”
“Humans die in their time,” the guardian explained—without really explaining anything. “God cannot take a life before its time. But he has the power to bend many cosmic laws we cannot even comprehend. Lives can be shaped by the push and pull of those forces.”
Iliya sighed, exasperated by the guardian’s maddeningly vague explanation.
“Not to mention,” the guardian continued, “I sensed demonic presence within CEO Shigenobu Matakatsu.”
Iliya blinked in surprise. “Demonic presence? You mean he was possessed like Mr. Chaudhry?”
The guardian nodded.
“But . . . what does that mean?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” the guardian confessed. “At the very least, it implies that his fate may be shaped by more than one supernatural entity.”
“What is his fate?” Iliya pressed him. “What happens to humans after we die? When eventually God sees fit to . . . dispose of me, like he did the CEO . . . what will happen to me?”
The guardian bowed his head, his voice gaining gravity. “Every religion has its own mythos, of course. But my understanding is that there are rewards for the righteous, and perhaps corresponding punishments for the unrighteous, but the specifics elude even us guardians.”
Her chest tightened. “Guardian,” she asked gently, “what will happen to you after you die?”
“I am already dead,” he reminded her matter-of-factly.
“No, I mean . . . after you die again. With me.”
His gaze softened as he looked at her. “I’m . . . not sure. It’s not clear to me whether the rewards that are promised to the righteous are also available to guardians. Perhaps my actions as your guardian will count toward God’s final judgment for me. Or perhaps I will simply cease to exist after serving you.” He broke into his usual cheeky smile, though his eyes still held a sad sort of gravity. “Perhaps serving you is my reward,” he added.
Iliya didn’t know what to say; she was stunned by the prospect.
“After all,” he said, his smile gaining warmth, “the chance to aid a prophet, the chance to impact the world long after my mortal life ended . . . it’s quite an opportunity, don’t you think?”
“But . . . you sacrifice so much,” she choked, peering into his wide, monstrous black eyes. “You sacrifice all memories of your mortal life, not to mention . . . you might be sacrificing your eternal life.”
He held her gaze steady. “What good is eternal life if you don’t make the most of life when you have the chance?”
Dark shapes crowded the corners of the room, and the guardian raised his head like a dog sniffing the air. “You’d better go.” His giant body glided closer, blocking out the intruders. “I’ll protect you.”
Iliya gave him a pitying, grateful smile, as she slipped back into her material body. “You always do.”
Iliya and Reth checked out of the hotel that afternoon.
Bidding them goodbye in the hotel lobby, Hiroshi and Meihui seemed subdued but resolute. Iliya couldn’t help but admire their resilience.
“My work is cut out for me here,” Hiroshi told them in a quiet voice. “I will help repair the pieces.”
“Me too,” said Meihui. “I may not be a prophet, but I still have some tricks up my sleeve. Don’t worry about us—we’ll take care of things here.”
“We must make sure this doesn’t shake the people’s faith too much,” Hiroshi added. “We need to keep the stock high. But the executives are all on the right side now. We will stay strong.”
“Iliya and I will begin negotiations with P&C,” Reth informed them. “We have our own business to attend to there, but we will also do what we can to convince them to ally with Toyosoni. From what I understand, they’re already favorably disposed to such an arrangement. Toyosoni was the hesitant one.”
Hiroshi nodded. “That is my understanding as well.” He gave them a low bow. “Goodbye, honored guests. Best of luck on your journey.”
“Good luck to you too,” said Iliya.
Meihui wrapped Iliya in a tight hug. “Be well, my friend,” she whispered.
“Take care,” Iliya replied.
“Thank you both for all your help,” said Reth. He took Iliya’s arm, and they headed toward the exit.
“Where to now?” asked Iliya. “Do you have a magnicopter waiting somewhere?”
“Not this time,” said Reth. “We’ll take the common route. P&C flies commercial airlines directly from Toyosoni.”
Outside in the bright sunshine, a regular-sized black car waited, less conspicuous than a limo. They climbed in and watched the hotel roll away amid a crowd of eager paparazzi snapping captures of their departure—a smaller crowd than usual since most news outlets were busy covering the CEO’s death.
“Is anyone expecting us in P&C?” asked Iliya.
“Yes,” said Reth. “I haven’t told too many people, but the media will catch on soon enough. We aren’t exactly trying to make this subtle. I want everyone to know we have full confidence in Toyosoni.”
Shigenobu Matakatsu smiled grimly. “Yes? What does the poster girl have to say? The so-called hero of the Robin Network. We’ve already done plenty to support your little network. It helps our brand quite a bit, not to mention it whets The Republic’s appetite for a very pricey buyout so they can be the ones to shut down the whole parade. I’m listening. What can you say that will change my mind?”
Everyone in the room watched her.
Reth and Meihui were breathlessly waiting. Hiroshi sat with his guardian’s hands rooted firmly on either shoulder.
With all eyes upon her, Iliya sought a prophetic solution. She cast her mind toward the celestial source of miracles.
But instead of divine words of wisdom, she received a distinct cosmic silence, a decisive lack of empathy from the spiritual world.
Her guardian watched her with a mixture of fondness and defeat.
“Nothing,” said Iliya in a flat voice. “Go ahead. Sell yourselves to The Republic.”
With a curt and self-satisfied nod, Shigenobu Matakatsu walked out of the conference room. His other C-suite executives followed.
“What are you doing?” asked Reth in alarm. “Why would you say that?”
“Just wait,” said Iliya quietly.
“But . . . you had his attention, and you only—”
“Wait,” Iliya repeated.
They stood in silence in the empty conference room, the loss and quiet settling in.
A piercing scream echoed down the hall.
Tenshi gasped and released Hiroshi’s shoulders. “The demons,” she breathed. “They have been . . . annihilated.”
“Our Father, Our King,” Iliya’s guardian murmured, bowing his head. “God overpowered them all.”
“But . . . imagine what that must do to a human heart,” Tenshi murmured faintly.
“It would be catastrophic to have demons still fused to your soul when God destroys them,” Iliya’s guardian replied.
Giving Iliya a bewildered look, Reth left the conference room. Meihui followed close behind. Others began rushing to the scene.
“It was his time,” Iliya said sadly.
Although Reth had little respect for the CEO of Toyosoni, he found the man’s death incredibly disturbing.
Shigenobu had died instantly when his heart exploded in his chest as if a grenade had detonated. While doctors could determine no logical explanation and found no evidence of foul play, the mysterious circumstances surrounding his gruesome death clearly struck fear in all his employees.
Toyosoni authorities had confined witnesses to the conference room until the autopsy returned. But it was clear the COO, acting as CEO until the board could appoint a new CEO, would sign into law all the preventative measures Reth had recommended.
Shigenobu’s death seemed like an expertly placed domino that set the rest of their plan smoothly in motion.
Reth knew he needed to talk to Iliya, but it was difficult to isolate her. With all the executives and security personnel—plus all the paperwork—Reth could hardly steal her gaze let alone a moment with her.
His moment finally came after the authorities approved their release. When everyone stood to leave the conference room, Reth seized Iliya’s elbow.
She glanced at him, then studied him. He could hardly imagine what his expression conveyed. He usually prided himself on his ability to shield his more assertive emotions, particularly during delicate diplomatic negotiations such as these, but Iliya had a way of unsettling him.
The executives, along with Hiroshi and Meihui, vacated the conference room. Only Reth and Iliya remained.
He tried to find the words.
Her chin tipped up a bit, her eyes firm and unyielding. Her quiet strength never failed to intimidate him.
He broke their gaze first and paced around the conference table. “You didn’t . . . kill him, did you?” His voice came out sounding weak and almost queasy.
Iliya shook her head. “No, I would never do that. He signed his own death sentence when he decided to sell Toyosoni.”
“But . . .” Reth sought the right phrasing. Clarifying this point was vital. “You knew he was going to die?”
Iliya sighed. “When I tried to use my prophetic powers to convince him, I hit a wall, and suddenly I knew what God had planned.” She frowned at him. “I told you—God is cruel. When something doesn’t fit his design, when he can’t force someone to follow his path, he just moves them out of the way.”
Reth tried to process the information. “So . . . God decided to kill him.”
“Not just kill him.” She took a step closer, her gaze unblinking with an almost eerie, otherworldly hollowness. “Kill him publicly. Kill him miraculously. Kill him in such a way to frighten people into submission.”
Reth shivered reflexively. “That’s cold-blooded.”
“Yes.”
“And you . . .” Reth swallowed, helplessness forming a knot in his throat. “You still follow this God anyway?”
“Not exactly.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I only follow him when it suits me. And I guess in return, he’ll keep me alive as long as I suit him.”
The prospect of her dying—of her not being alive—struck cold dread down his spine. He struggled to breathe. “That’s . . . not exactly comforting.”
Iliya closed the distance between them, but her closeness felt overwhelming. He needed her too much, too intensely, and he would surely collapse from the weight of it.
She grasped his hand, holding him steady, and guided him into a chair. She was truly capable of such tenderness when she wanted to be.
She sat beside him. “There’s something my mother told me once,” she said softly.
Reth blinked in surprise. Given the complexity of Iliya’s relationship with her mother, he was afraid to say anything lest he discourage her from continuing.
Iliya took a deep breath. “She said God is gods. And then she explained that gods are at war with one another over the fate of humanity.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Iliya leaned back with a frown, and Reth wondered if she expected him to have the answer. “But it’s bothered me ever since she first said it. Who am I following? Who killed Shigenobu Matakatsu today?”
“I just assumed you knew everything about the God you follow.”
She shook her head. “He may set my direction, but he remains a mystery to me.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Hiroshi peeked his head in. “Ms. Rusul? Mr. Alem? Your presence is requested.”
Something tugged Reth’s chest. He wanted more time alone with Iliya to discuss her predicament until it made sense, but they had a job to do.
Iliya rose, and Reth followed quickly, slipping his hand into hers. He wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet, even if they needed to rejoin the others.
Iliya did what she could to help Toyosoni executives weather the shocking demise of their leader and establish a strategy for resisting The Republic.
The CEO’s funeral was a massive affair; everyone in the epicenter was invited to attend. His wife and two children—a girl and a boy about Baq’s and Pamela’s ages—sat at the front while some of his friends and colleagues took turns speaking on his behalf. The wife did not speak at all; she remained in a sullen, trance-like silence. The speakers talked of Mr. Matakatsu’s determination, drive, ambition, and intelligence. No one mentioned qualities like kindness, compassion, empathy, or love.
After the funeral, Toyosoni executives ratified policies mandating that any new takeovers required a supermajority rather than a mere majority of stakeholders. They also agreed to establish stronger alliances with P&C, a competitor to The Republic. Some Toyosoni subsidiary executives prepared to negotiate with The Republic’s subsidiaries with the goal of buying some of The Republic’s stock.
Iliya gave them advice, similar to what she and Alisha used to provide, about how to keep their stock prices high.
Back at the hotel that evening, the team remained silent as they ate dinner. The ambiance seemed strangely subdued—even the food somehow tasted bland.
“Was this really the only way to get them to agree with us?” asked Reth softly, breaking the silence.
Hiroshi shrugged. “I’m sure if the gods saw a better way, they would have suggested it.”
Iliya laughed bitterly. “Maybe some gods are just punitive and vengeful.”
Hiroshi shook his head. “We may not always understand the logic of the divine, but it is not our place to judge. It is our task to intuit and obey.”
Reth raised his eyebrows. “You’re okay with the fact that you watched someone get murdered?”
“The gods do not murder,” Hiroshi corrected lightly. “It was his time to depart this world.”
“No.” Reth pushed his food away. “No, I don’t accept that.”
Iliya gave him a grim look but said nothing.
Meihui watched as she continued eating.
“We all have our time,” said Hiroshi serenely. “That is fate—we can’t fight it. As prophets, we feel it most of all. Every miracle shortens our lives. We will die young, our lives half-lived.”
Reth turned to Iliya, his eyes wide. The force of his emotion surprised her. Then he threw his napkin onto the table and stormed off.
Hiroshi turned to Iliya in puzzlement. “He does know miracles shorten our lives, right?”
Iliya nodded. “I told him a long time ago, but it’s possible he forgot. Or he just hasn’t thought about it in a while.”
They remained in silence.
“Iliya . . .” Hiroshi creased his brow, and his gentle tone seemed unusually tender. “The love of a prophet is . . . temporary. Divided. Any partner of a prophet must understand that.” He spoke slowly as if gathering his thoughts and trying to phrase his message in the best possible way. “It is a life of devotion to the masses. It is not a partnership to be taken on lightly.”
“I know that,” Iliya snapped more harshly than she intended. Softening, she squeezed Hiroshi’s hand. “I appreciate your wisdom. But . . . I’m not sure it will help in this case.”
“He’s right,” Meihui added in an uncharacteristically quiet and somber tone. “You’ve chosen the life of an activist, Iliya. And when you’re an activist, it’s best not to get too attached to anyone. Even those of us who aren’t prophets have trouble sustaining relationships. Revolutions and romance aren’t really compatible.”
“I’d better go after him.” Iliya left Hiroshi and Meihui sitting in silence.
Once inside the elevator, Iliya took a deep breath. Her heart fluttered strangely in her chest, and her throat was tight.
She reached Reth’s hotel room and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she tried again. She could hear him moving around, possibly pacing. “Reth, I know you’re in there. Let me in.”
He opened the door. His hair was ruffled, his shoulders taut. He seemed restless, scattered.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t accept this,” he answered.
“The CEO’s death? Or . . .” Iliya fell silent, knowing full well what he was really upset about—that her fate was bound so immutably to the will of a capricious and vengeful God.
His big black eyes fixed onto her like he could never tire of looking at her. He threw his arms around her and pulled her into a fierce embrace. His arms trembled as if he could keep her alive forever and bind her body to the Earth just by holding her tightly enough.
“Reth,” she whispered, breathing him in. “I’m not gone yet. Let’s be alive tonight.”
Clutching her hand, Reth welcomed her inside and shut the door behind her.
CHAPTER 50
The next morning, Iliya could see Reth was eager for them to leave Toyosoni.
“We’ve done what we came to do in Toyosoni,” he declared as he packed his belongings. “It’s time to start somewhere new.”
Iliya had to admit she agreed with him. But still, she figured it would be wise to check with her guardian just to be sure.
While Reth continued packing, Iliya sat on the floor and meditated.
As her spirit lifted out of her body, she spotted her guardian hovering against the wall. She was always impressed by his ability to stuff such a massive body into the corners of small rooms.
“Hi,” she greeted. “Reth thinks it’s time for us to leave.”
“So I heard,” the guardian drawled.
“Well . . . do you agree?”
He shrugged. “Does my opinion really matter to you?”
She rolled her eyes. “It just . . . seems like our work here is mostly done. The executives agreed to everything we suggested. And the media coverage is focused on the CEO—interviews with his friends and family, the headhunters tasked with replacing him—”
“So what is it you really want to know?”
Iliya frowned as her guardian surveyed her with his usual cheeky smile. “Why did God kill the CEO?”
“You already know the answer to that question,” he replied slowly.
She ducked her head. “Because it needed to be done.”
He gave a single nod.
“But . . . I thought humans had free will. If God can just . . . kill anyone who doesn’t fit his plan—”
“Humans die in their time,” the guardian explained—without really explaining anything. “God cannot take a life before its time. But he has the power to bend many cosmic laws we cannot even comprehend. Lives can be shaped by the push and pull of those forces.”
Iliya sighed, exasperated by the guardian’s maddeningly vague explanation.
“Not to mention,” the guardian continued, “I sensed demonic presence within CEO Shigenobu Matakatsu.”
Iliya blinked in surprise. “Demonic presence? You mean he was possessed like Mr. Chaudhry?”
The guardian nodded.
“But . . . what does that mean?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” the guardian confessed. “At the very least, it implies that his fate may be shaped by more than one supernatural entity.”
“What is his fate?” Iliya pressed him. “What happens to humans after we die? When eventually God sees fit to . . . dispose of me, like he did the CEO . . . what will happen to me?”
The guardian bowed his head, his voice gaining gravity. “Every religion has its own mythos, of course. But my understanding is that there are rewards for the righteous, and perhaps corresponding punishments for the unrighteous, but the specifics elude even us guardians.”
Her chest tightened. “Guardian,” she asked gently, “what will happen to you after you die?”
“I am already dead,” he reminded her matter-of-factly.
“No, I mean . . . after you die again. With me.”
His gaze softened as he looked at her. “I’m . . . not sure. It’s not clear to me whether the rewards that are promised to the righteous are also available to guardians. Perhaps my actions as your guardian will count toward God’s final judgment for me. Or perhaps I will simply cease to exist after serving you.” He broke into his usual cheeky smile, though his eyes still held a sad sort of gravity. “Perhaps serving you is my reward,” he added.
Iliya didn’t know what to say; she was stunned by the prospect.
“After all,” he said, his smile gaining warmth, “the chance to aid a prophet, the chance to impact the world long after my mortal life ended . . . it’s quite an opportunity, don’t you think?”
“But . . . you sacrifice so much,” she choked, peering into his wide, monstrous black eyes. “You sacrifice all memories of your mortal life, not to mention . . . you might be sacrificing your eternal life.”
He held her gaze steady. “What good is eternal life if you don’t make the most of life when you have the chance?”
Dark shapes crowded the corners of the room, and the guardian raised his head like a dog sniffing the air. “You’d better go.” His giant body glided closer, blocking out the intruders. “I’ll protect you.”
Iliya gave him a pitying, grateful smile, as she slipped back into her material body. “You always do.”
Iliya and Reth checked out of the hotel that afternoon.
Bidding them goodbye in the hotel lobby, Hiroshi and Meihui seemed subdued but resolute. Iliya couldn’t help but admire their resilience.
“My work is cut out for me here,” Hiroshi told them in a quiet voice. “I will help repair the pieces.”
“Me too,” said Meihui. “I may not be a prophet, but I still have some tricks up my sleeve. Don’t worry about us—we’ll take care of things here.”
“We must make sure this doesn’t shake the people’s faith too much,” Hiroshi added. “We need to keep the stock high. But the executives are all on the right side now. We will stay strong.”
“Iliya and I will begin negotiations with P&C,” Reth informed them. “We have our own business to attend to there, but we will also do what we can to convince them to ally with Toyosoni. From what I understand, they’re already favorably disposed to such an arrangement. Toyosoni was the hesitant one.”
Hiroshi nodded. “That is my understanding as well.” He gave them a low bow. “Goodbye, honored guests. Best of luck on your journey.”
“Good luck to you too,” said Iliya.
Meihui wrapped Iliya in a tight hug. “Be well, my friend,” she whispered.
“Take care,” Iliya replied.
“Thank you both for all your help,” said Reth. He took Iliya’s arm, and they headed toward the exit.
“Where to now?” asked Iliya. “Do you have a magnicopter waiting somewhere?”
“Not this time,” said Reth. “We’ll take the common route. P&C flies commercial airlines directly from Toyosoni.”
Outside in the bright sunshine, a regular-sized black car waited, less conspicuous than a limo. They climbed in and watched the hotel roll away amid a crowd of eager paparazzi snapping captures of their departure—a smaller crowd than usual since most news outlets were busy covering the CEO’s death.
“Is anyone expecting us in P&C?” asked Iliya.
“Yes,” said Reth. “I haven’t told too many people, but the media will catch on soon enough. We aren’t exactly trying to make this subtle. I want everyone to know we have full confidence in Toyosoni.”
