It was like stepping onto an alien planet. All I could do was stare.
Talon took off from Cornelius’ shoulder and streaked between the trees.
“He’s overwhelmed,” Cornelius said. “My apologies.”
Edward smiled as we strolled down the path. “No worries. We bios mages have to deal with our charges’ idiosyncrasies. Life is unpredictable.”
“Are you also a herbamagos like Brian?” I asked. His background check said he was.
“Yes. But my talents lie with trees. Specifically, fruit trees. Brian rules over fungi. This is his kingdom.” Edward raised his hand to encompass the alien landscape. “This way.”
He turned right. We followed him around the bend. The mushroom kingdom ended abruptly. A koi stream stretched in front of us, widening into a pond with a rock wall and a waterfall at the far end. On the other side a beautiful garden spread. Fruit trees, some flowering, some bearing golden apples, apricots, and cherries, rose from the planters.
Edward led us across a small Japanese bridge into the garden.
“You’re probably wondering why I don’t lead the family. Everyone does,” he said. “They are simply too polite to ask the question. I’m the oldest and a Prime.”
“Why don’t you lead the family?” I asked.
“In our family Brian was born with a gold spoon in his mouth. There’s significantly more money in fungi-driven pharmaceuticals than in delicious apples.”
Edward reached out, and the nearest apple tree leaned to him, brushing his palm with its leaves.
“Does it bother you?” I asked.
“Not anymore.”
Lie.
The floor abruptly ended. The path was still there, but instead of stone tiles a green lawn stretched in front of us. Walking on it in heels was out of the question. I’d sink in with every step.
Edward waited, watching me.
I slipped off my shoes, picked them up, and kept going. The grass felt cool under my toes. I had to do this carefully. He was a Prime, and a wrong step would get us thrown out. I owed Rynda some answers.
“Mr. Sherwood,” I said. “Rynda has hired our agency to look into the disappearance of her husband.”
“It was a shock,” he said. “Considering your role in her mother’s death.”
Right, now that we got Olivia’s death out of the way . . . “We would like to ask you some questions. Some topics might be sensitive. Everything you tell us is confidential, but not privileged.”
“I’ll be as candid as I can. Within reason.”
I waited for the familiar nagging feeling, but my magic stayed silent. He was sincere.
“When was the last time you saw your brother?”
“Thursday night a little before six. We spoke briefly about the budgetary meeting on Friday. I asked him if he wanted to attend. He said he would be busy with his research. He left the office. I got up and watched the trees on the other end of the parking lot from my window. It helps me think. I was still in front of the window when he walked out into the parking lot, got into his car, and drove off.”
Truth. Off to a good start.
“Are you concerned for your brother’s well-being?”
“Yes.”
Lie. Spoke too soon.
“I’m concerned for Rynda,” he volunteered. “And the children.”
Truth.
The path brought us to the curve of the koi pond. Three plain wooden benches, the kind you could find in every home improvement store, waited, arranged in a rough circle. A trellis wove above each, bearing a spray of clematis flowers. Crimson, white, burgundy, blue, the big mixed blossoms sent a subtle, complicated aroma into the air.
“Please.” Edward invited me to the bench.
I sat. Cornelius took a spot next to me. Edward chose the bench across from us.
It was so tranquil here. I could sit and read a book in this spot for hours, smelling the clematis, glancing at the pond, and feeling the soft silken grass under my feet. And that was exactly why he brought me here. This was his piece of the kingdom. He was comfortable here, and he counted on the soothing surroundings to soften the conversation.
“When Brian was a young child, he didn’t like to be in trouble,” Edward said. “No child does, but my brother would become easily overwhelmed. Our father had a harsh view of child-rearing. He was a product of his generation. When my brother did something he knew would put him into our father’s crosshairs, he disappeared. He would hide for hours and he was very good at it. At first, everyone would wait for him to come out. Then, a few hours into his disappearance, my mother would panic, sure that this time something bad must have happened. The entire household would look for him, sometimes until morning, and when he was finally found, everyone would be too tired and too relieved for discipline.”
“Do you feel that Brian is hiding?”
“Yes.”
True.
“Why?”
He leaned back. “BioCore is engaged in high-profile antibiotic research. The average person rarely pays attention to how much we owe antibiotics. They simply take for granted that few people die from infection following surgeries. Strep throat, pneumonia, and UTIs are unpleasant inconveniences, but rarely a cause for panic. Despite extensive travel, we no longer have plagues and epidemics. We’ve gotten comfortable. It’s a mistake.”
“Nature always finds a way,” Cornelius said.
Edward nodded. “We’re facing a sharp rise in antibiotic-resistant bacteria. Our miracle drugs no longer work. This is happening right now, today, this minute. We’re losing the battle. MDR-TB, the bacterial strain responsible for tuberculosis, is resistant to a multitude of antibiotics. MRSA, VRE, KPC, the list goes on. I could give you more scary acronyms, which all amount to the same thing. Soon a routine visit to the hospital for a respiratory infection or a relatively safe surgery, like appendix removal, may end your life. The race to find new and better drugs is on. Brian was on the forefront of that. He used his magic to facilitate rapid mutation of the fungi in response to bacterial threats. He was trying to develop new antibacterial agents. It’s a dangerous and lucrative field of study.”
“Competitive?” I guessed.
“Very. I promised to be candid. Olivia’s involvement in Senator Garza’s death and the resulting avalanche of negative publicity hurt us. Badly. Brian married Rynda for her mother’s business contacts. Right now those contacts are running for cover.”
Talon took off from Cornelius’ shoulder and streaked between the trees.
“He’s overwhelmed,” Cornelius said. “My apologies.”
Edward smiled as we strolled down the path. “No worries. We bios mages have to deal with our charges’ idiosyncrasies. Life is unpredictable.”
“Are you also a herbamagos like Brian?” I asked. His background check said he was.
“Yes. But my talents lie with trees. Specifically, fruit trees. Brian rules over fungi. This is his kingdom.” Edward raised his hand to encompass the alien landscape. “This way.”
He turned right. We followed him around the bend. The mushroom kingdom ended abruptly. A koi stream stretched in front of us, widening into a pond with a rock wall and a waterfall at the far end. On the other side a beautiful garden spread. Fruit trees, some flowering, some bearing golden apples, apricots, and cherries, rose from the planters.
Edward led us across a small Japanese bridge into the garden.
“You’re probably wondering why I don’t lead the family. Everyone does,” he said. “They are simply too polite to ask the question. I’m the oldest and a Prime.”
“Why don’t you lead the family?” I asked.
“In our family Brian was born with a gold spoon in his mouth. There’s significantly more money in fungi-driven pharmaceuticals than in delicious apples.”
Edward reached out, and the nearest apple tree leaned to him, brushing his palm with its leaves.
“Does it bother you?” I asked.
“Not anymore.”
Lie.
The floor abruptly ended. The path was still there, but instead of stone tiles a green lawn stretched in front of us. Walking on it in heels was out of the question. I’d sink in with every step.
Edward waited, watching me.
I slipped off my shoes, picked them up, and kept going. The grass felt cool under my toes. I had to do this carefully. He was a Prime, and a wrong step would get us thrown out. I owed Rynda some answers.
“Mr. Sherwood,” I said. “Rynda has hired our agency to look into the disappearance of her husband.”
“It was a shock,” he said. “Considering your role in her mother’s death.”
Right, now that we got Olivia’s death out of the way . . . “We would like to ask you some questions. Some topics might be sensitive. Everything you tell us is confidential, but not privileged.”
“I’ll be as candid as I can. Within reason.”
I waited for the familiar nagging feeling, but my magic stayed silent. He was sincere.
“When was the last time you saw your brother?”
“Thursday night a little before six. We spoke briefly about the budgetary meeting on Friday. I asked him if he wanted to attend. He said he would be busy with his research. He left the office. I got up and watched the trees on the other end of the parking lot from my window. It helps me think. I was still in front of the window when he walked out into the parking lot, got into his car, and drove off.”
Truth. Off to a good start.
“Are you concerned for your brother’s well-being?”
“Yes.”
Lie. Spoke too soon.
“I’m concerned for Rynda,” he volunteered. “And the children.”
Truth.
The path brought us to the curve of the koi pond. Three plain wooden benches, the kind you could find in every home improvement store, waited, arranged in a rough circle. A trellis wove above each, bearing a spray of clematis flowers. Crimson, white, burgundy, blue, the big mixed blossoms sent a subtle, complicated aroma into the air.
“Please.” Edward invited me to the bench.
I sat. Cornelius took a spot next to me. Edward chose the bench across from us.
It was so tranquil here. I could sit and read a book in this spot for hours, smelling the clematis, glancing at the pond, and feeling the soft silken grass under my feet. And that was exactly why he brought me here. This was his piece of the kingdom. He was comfortable here, and he counted on the soothing surroundings to soften the conversation.
“When Brian was a young child, he didn’t like to be in trouble,” Edward said. “No child does, but my brother would become easily overwhelmed. Our father had a harsh view of child-rearing. He was a product of his generation. When my brother did something he knew would put him into our father’s crosshairs, he disappeared. He would hide for hours and he was very good at it. At first, everyone would wait for him to come out. Then, a few hours into his disappearance, my mother would panic, sure that this time something bad must have happened. The entire household would look for him, sometimes until morning, and when he was finally found, everyone would be too tired and too relieved for discipline.”
“Do you feel that Brian is hiding?”
“Yes.”
True.
“Why?”
He leaned back. “BioCore is engaged in high-profile antibiotic research. The average person rarely pays attention to how much we owe antibiotics. They simply take for granted that few people die from infection following surgeries. Strep throat, pneumonia, and UTIs are unpleasant inconveniences, but rarely a cause for panic. Despite extensive travel, we no longer have plagues and epidemics. We’ve gotten comfortable. It’s a mistake.”
“Nature always finds a way,” Cornelius said.
Edward nodded. “We’re facing a sharp rise in antibiotic-resistant bacteria. Our miracle drugs no longer work. This is happening right now, today, this minute. We’re losing the battle. MDR-TB, the bacterial strain responsible for tuberculosis, is resistant to a multitude of antibiotics. MRSA, VRE, KPC, the list goes on. I could give you more scary acronyms, which all amount to the same thing. Soon a routine visit to the hospital for a respiratory infection or a relatively safe surgery, like appendix removal, may end your life. The race to find new and better drugs is on. Brian was on the forefront of that. He used his magic to facilitate rapid mutation of the fungi in response to bacterial threats. He was trying to develop new antibacterial agents. It’s a dangerous and lucrative field of study.”
“Competitive?” I guessed.
“Very. I promised to be candid. Olivia’s involvement in Senator Garza’s death and the resulting avalanche of negative publicity hurt us. Badly. Brian married Rynda for her mother’s business contacts. Right now those contacts are running for cover.”
