by The Eurostar
Edulcore Cicciotto:
The sun is rising above the horizon, and we are flying toward it. I am back at the command, after Chance has piloted the flying vessel across the Atlantic. Now he and Quantos are exchanging ideas about the UFO.
"The technology seems really alien, Henry. In the sense that it's absolutely different from what has ever been created by men," says Kristofer.
"True. But look at the materials. They are advanced, but clearly of terrestrial origins. Even more, they seem standard industrial products. High standards, sure, but nothing even experimental."
"Like someone took a blueprint of an UFO and rebuilt it with the materials at hand?"
"Yeah, more or less, that's what I intended to say."
"Sirs, Paris!" I say, interrupting the conversation of my two friends.
Mick and Shirley press their faces on the window to catch every moment of the beautiful sight. Quantos and Kristofer, like myself, know the city from before, so there isn't the same sense of excitement that was in the young couple.
Yet, Paris is as beautiful as ever, especially now that the first rays of the sun stroked her roofs, while the street were not yet busy.
"One hour of travel, although I am sure this beauty can be much more fast," I say. "I have to improve my pilot skills."
"We left at half-past eleven. There are seven hours of difference from La Perdita to Paris... it's half-past seven, here," pointed out Quantos.
"Right. And my appointment is for eleven in the morning, so we have some time for breakfast. I know a little place where they serve the best croissant of France," I say.
"Yum!" says Mick, and everybody laughs.
I make the UFO stop near the uppermost terrace of the Eiffel Tower. After we have gotten off the ship, I send it to hide under the river.
Mick and Shirley seems like two just-married people on their honeymoon. And strangely, Chance seems not really at ease. I wonder why.
Paris, a few hours later:
"Guys, it's time to go!" I say to my friends. We are sitting al fresco outside a cafeteria in La Rive Gauche, drinking coffee and jus de pamplemousse and eating various kind of croissants.
For me, it's like being reborn, after all the months captive in the EPS headquarters. Still, we are all aware that this country, like most on every continent, is not safe for metahumans. And the joy of this warm day of late summer is spoiled by the constant attention paid every time a flick, a guard, appears across the street.
"Where' s your meeting place, Ed?" asks Chance.
"Île de la Cité," I respond, looking at the little piece of paper Jackie gave me days ago. "Rue de Dauphin, et cetera, et cetera, at eleven a.m."
"It's not very far," says Quantos.
"Yes, I know," I say, getting up.
I go inside to pay, and for a moment the face of one of the customers, which I see reflected in a mirror hanging near the ceiling, seems familiar. Then the man turns away, and I can't say if he's really someone I know. Bah.
The walk is short, down toward the Seine, across the bridge, and then into a short little street.
"It's this one," I say, looking at the number.
"Okay, phone me when you're finished. We'll stroll not far from here, in the meantime," suggests Chance.
"No, Kristofer, come in. The invitation was also for Turner. I believe it wouldn't be a problem if you all come. Come on!"
Quantos seems perplexed, and Chance, too. Shirley and Mick, on the other hand, seem very curious. I press the bell. The door opens, and behind me, all of my four friends enter.
A metallic sound comes from the dark of the corridor. It's... a robot! A short humanoid robot, not taller than a meter, dressed up like a butler. With a clang, his mandible opens and says, "Mademoiselle, messieurs, please follow me." Obviously, English is not its usual language.
I follow the robot. Behind me, I hear Quantos and Chance exchanging ideas.
"Have you noticed the technology?"
"I noticed especially the decorations. Seems a sixteenth-century robot, if such a thing would have ever existed."
"My thoughts exactly," confirms Chance.
The little robot opens a massive, oak wooden door, gets in and stops right near it.
We enter. There is a man, not very tall, standing near a window. He's very robust, muscular under his black suit. Totally bald, his head is large, and his neck is massive, like the neck of a bull.
He turns. His face is very strange. He has large, bony eyebrows, that shadows his eyes, and has no chin at all. It's not possible to see his eyes. Only a flashing reflection comes out of that darkness, very seldom.
Quantos and Chance keeps speaking in scientific terms.
"My God, Kris. Are you thinking what I am thinking?"
"A living Neanderthal, Henry! If it's possible that there is such a thing."
"Welcome to Paris, lady and gentlemen. I hope you have enjoyed the city so far." He points us to a large chair.
Before any of us can object that we are five and the chair is only one, the robot brings four more, one after the other. And we take our seats. The strange man sits behind his desk.
"I know you," I say after a moment. The man's features are unmistakable, even though he no longer wears the long, white beard that he had when we first met. "Chicago. You spoke to me by the ruins of a cabin on the shore of Lake Michigan a year ago, while I was invisible. You gave me a warning. And you spoke with M'xy in that cabin some days before."
"Yes," the old man replies with what seems to be a kind smile. "I have been with you since the beginning."
"Well?" I ask, trying to keep from looking impressed.
"I asked you to come because I have a proposal for you, Edulcore Cicciotto."
"And that is?"
"I would ask you to join my organization."
I distinctly hear Mick gulping.
"What kind of organization is yours, sir?" I politely ask.
The man smiles. "You want the short or the long story?" he asks.
Mhhh. What have I gotten myself into? "The short one, sir, thank you."
He looks at me, and then to each one of my friends. "First of all, I want to point out that you, Edulcore, and the MBL have crossed paths with it more than one time." He presses a button, and from the door arrive three tall women, the first in red boots, the second in a complex suit of armor, reminiscent of ancient Greece, and the third completely in leather.
When they turn, standing behind the old man, our jaws drop. One is Crasher, one is Jackie, and from the exclamations of Mick and Shirley, the third is Sonja, a supposedly dead member of MBL Consulting. She smiles to the couple and winks, evidently happy. I recognize her as Nadia, the one who gave me the Gaia unit that I used to escape from the EPS.
"You have met, at one time or another, my precious employees, Crasher, Ameristar, and Nadia.
They work for my organization, along with many other agents."
"Yeah, okay, but what do they do? And, pardon me, what do you want from me?"
"I am sorry, but I can't reveal the purpose of this organization right now. Only members of the organization can know it. You know these three women; they have worked alongside you. You know their goals are the same as you. Join us, and your wishes will be fulfilled."
"My wishes? What do you offer me? Don't say it's a mountain of euros, because I have recently become rich, VERY rich. "
The man smiles. "I know. Jackie, or I should say, Ameristar, was with you. No, it's not money that I offer. I offer you help to fulfil your dreams. I can help you to set up the real revolution you failed to start in Chicago. I offer you a way to regain your true powers. I offer you to finally have your son."
A whirlwind of contrasting emotions explodes in my brain. Is this an offer that only a fool would reject? Both Crasher and Nadia succeeded in getting inside the EPS unnoticed. Jackie proved to be an unstoppable force. Crasher, in Chicago, had many helicopters at her disposal, and all of them have Gaia units, and who knows what kind of advanced tech. Yet...
"Sir, your offer is undeniably impossible to decline. But I have been through a lot in the last few months. I have been through hell. I have learned that a revolution is not the answer for the situation affecting metahumans in most of the world. I have found that too much power is a burden much more than a blessing, and lot of power means lot of pain. And finally, I have discovered that only the help of friends will get me to my son. Only the strong will that comes with friendship can be stronger that Walker's diabolical mind. So, I am sorry, sir, but I have to reject your offer. I have just found my friends. I don't want to turn my back to them a second time."
I stand up and turn. My friends, all smiling, stand up too.
But when we are all outside the room, the old man speaks. "Cicciotto, I have another offer to make."
I come back. "Sir, don't you understand? There is nothing you could..."
He interrupts me with a movement of the hand. "Cicciotto, join us, and I will reveal to you your past."
My past: the mystery surrounding the double death of my father, his green blood, his being captive at Area 51, the demon claiming to be my uncle.
"What do you know? Talk!"
"Join us, and I will reveal it all to you," says the old man, going near the door and closing it. I am now alone with him and the girls. My friends are now in the other room. I shake my head, torn between them and the revelation of so many mysteries. "Tell me at least what this is about."
The old man looks at me deeply in the eyes, although I can't see his. "Okay, the short story. There are two secret societies that struggle to conquer the world. They have control over elections, run multinationals, own entire countries. One has an advanced technology at its disposition, things like the Gaia unit or the Giorgio you fought three times during your run. The other is a circle of sorcerers -- your friends have fought one of them, Auguste Bull, also known as Aurochs.
"The two societies across the centuries have many times nearly fulfilled their goals. When the Earth was more science-oriented, like in Ancient Greece, the Renaissance, the Age of Enlightenment, or today, the first society to prevail is the Hoods. When, on the contrary, the other society, the Cloaks, have the winning run, the Earth slides toward magic, like at time of Ancient Egypt, like Medieval times, or the Baroque period.
"My part in this is to make sure neither society has an all-out victory. I work for humanity, to preserve its freedom."
I am speechless.
Well, better to say something. "Umm... And you fight this battle from the time of Ancient Egypt?"
"Well, from some time before... circa 35,000 B.C. I am immortal, Cicciotto."
"I don't envy you. "
"I fight this battle enlisting the great champions of each era. I employ some aid, like the girls you have met, and use them to find the greatest and most powerful heroes that walk the Earth. Gilgamesh, Odysseus, Scipione, Arthur, Charlemagne, they have all worked for me. You could be the next."
I smile, and then the smile becomes a laugh. "Sir, I think you have mistook me for someone other. I am not such a great hero. Not at all."
This man is clearly mad. Leaving my friends for this loon would be the stupidest thing to do. I leave, but his words about the greatest heroes of each age makes me think.
I go near Chance, and talk to him. He gives me a little thing. I come back to the old man.
"Sir, you said you enlist the greatest heroes the Earth has to offer, right? I believe you don't hire them on a permanent basis."
"Obviously not. Only when the need arises, when there are important missions to perform."
"Perfect. I have what you need." I lend him a piece of paper.
It's the MBL Consulting business card: the greatest heroes of the world.