The Overseer (42 page)

For the first time in days, Xander felt protected, safe. Without thinking, he closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to a welcome nothingness.

 

The dessert proved even more exquisite than the salmon, a fruit tart floating in a raspberry sauce, the taste prompting all four to purr in approval. At no time during the meal had Sarah shown the slightest hesitation in
sparring
with the three men around the table, egged on by the roles each took in response to her self-assurance: Sedgewick, the intellectual, finding in her a worthy adversary; Votapek, the intimate, playing up the
bond
from their first meeting; and Tieg … Tieg, the enigma. Sarah had yet to ascertain his role, uneasy with the detachment he maintained among such close
associates
.

Sedgewick was the first to resume speaking as he swept his spoon through a pool of the red confection, his cheeks flushed from several glasses of wine. “Though I hate to admit it, Marx had it right—it’s a waste of time to try and define the day-to-day workings of the last stage in the process. Just set everything up, or at least allow things to move in their natural patterns so that a future is viable.” He lapped at the spoon. “Of course, I’m no Marxist, but it isn’t hard to pat old Karl on the back for having had the horse sense to refrain from offering some design for the future. Create the playing field. That’s all one can do.” He took a sip of coffee and sat back.

“It’s been a long time since I read Marx,” said Sarah, “but I think he had
some
idea of what he wanted—communal property, the dictatorship of the proletariat. I find it difficult to believe that ‘creating the playing field’ would have been sufficient.”

“Actually, it was,” responded Votapek, already in the middle of his
second
piece. “Marx
did
think it would happen on its own—capitalism would come crashing down all by itself. That’s where he made his mistake.” He wolfed down a healthy slab. “But you’re probably right. There’s no
question
that you have to have an idea of what’s best for the people, how to get the most out of them and how to stabilize them
before
you set out to create the playing field. Anyone with an idea for the future has to know that you can’t draw up the … let’s call them
blueprints
… until you see the space you’re going to build on. You have to clear the land before you set the foundations.”
Clear the land
, thought Sarah.
Chaos at its most innocent
.

“A period of statelessness,” added Sedgewick, “to make sure that the
foundations
are correct. That seems to me a central maxim of the manuscript.”

“You have to remember,” reminded Sarah, “that my familiarity with that book is far more limited than yours.” She had pressed the point a number of times in the last hour. “My questions—”

“Are those that come from the onetime assassin of Jordan.” All eyes turned to Tieg, who was pouring a cup of tea. He had been quiet for several minutes, his words clearly timed to elicit the most effective response. “We’re well aware of that, Ms. Trent. We’re also aware that you see the world from a somewhat
different
perspective.” He put down the pot and looked at her. “General theories derived from a sixteenth-century manuscript aren’t likely to overwhelm or impress you, are they? You like to know
how, when,
not
why
. Or am I misinterpreting your part in all of this?” He took a sip.

Sarah had not expected the question, nor the reference to her past. More troubling was the way Tieg looked at her, something behind the stare. “No, I think that would be a fair estimation.”

“Good.” He placed the cup on its saucer. “The problem is, the
how
and the
when
have never been that important to us. Don’t get me wrong. The practical side is ultimately what drives us. I think we can all agree on that. But it can’t be our focus.” Looking at Sedgewick, he continued. “I really have no interest in what Larry is up to, nor he about me. I
trust
that when we reach a certain point, he’ll have accomplished everything he needs to accomplish so that we can move forward.” He looked back at Sarah. “Aside from that, our lives are brought together only by the
why
. That, with some minor variation, is the same for all three of us.”

Tieg had waited for the appropriate moment to
instruct
Sarah in the ways of Eisenreich. Unlike his colleagues, he showed no need to impress with allusions to grand theories or his own exploits. Of the three, he was the one to keep his cards closest to the chest. More than that, he seemed to be testing her. Twice during the meal, he had cut Sedgewick off so as to press her further for the details of her relationship with Eisenreich. Each time, she had parried with innocuous phrases, recalling her desire to remain on the periphery when it came to details. Only now did she realize how clever he had been, timing his interruptions so as to make sure that the conversation remained focused on the abstract. Evidently, he was not inclined to permit facts to enter the debate.

“I’m not sure I’d put the
why
in those terms,” added Votapek, “but I agree it’s the search for permanence that ties us together.” He was not
willing
to allow Tieg to speak for all three. Sarah knew that had the situation been reversed, the more famous member of the trio would have sat in silence, his ego secure enough to avoid such obvious flexing. It troubled her to find such strength at Eisenreich’s core. “Order is about setting boundaries so as to encourage people—especially the young—to challenge their potential. That, naturally, demands structure, discipline, a bit of
weeding
out. Not
everyone
is capable of the potential I have in mind.”
Sedgewick’s
pretension had given way to Votapek’s eugenics.

“Simply put, we have to get rid of constraints—old institutions—and throw everything into turmoil; that way, the cream can rise to the top. The great unwashed will have no choice but to recognize who their natural leaders are.” Votapek lifted his cup, his eyes momentarily locked on the undulating coffee within. “Only the best are capable of taming chaos—those who can harness its power and lead the unenlightened in new
directions
. The rest”—he shook his head—“teach them to follow. Give them toys to play with—greed, hatred, pettiness. Then create controlled
battlefields
for them—bigotry, fear, that sort of thing. Focus their energy on a common hatred and you have a satisfied, manageable mass. Institutions are merely an afterthought. A few innocents may get hurt, but that’s the price. With that, and with the right sort of technology, you can control them all very easily. Keep them busy and you allow real innovation to seize the day.” He put the cup down and leaned toward Sarah. “Cling to old institutions, and the best you can do is erect monuments to your own limitations, because
that’s
what institutions represent—our sense of
workable
boundaries
. Then, when the truly remarkable
do
emerge, we stifle them because they tear at the very walls we’ve put up. They challenge us, and we destroy them.” He sat back. “The middle ground isn’t worth a thing, Ms. Trent. Our only choice—permanance through excellence.”

Votapek looked at each member of the dinner party, a self-satisfied grin on his lips. There was nothing humorous, though, no conceit in the words he had spoken. Only conviction. And perhaps a sense of responsibility, a sense that these three were the men ready to bestow a gift of great value on a foundering world, a world in need of their insights. As if it were their duty to create the darkness so as to usher in a more perfect, more permanent light.

Trying to formulate a response, Sarah’s thoughts were interrupted as Tieg accidentally spilled and shattered a glass of wine, George quick to come to his aid with a napkin. Without a word, the large man stepped away from the table and made his way through a swinging door, no doubt in search of a replacement.

Tieg continued to mop up the mess, removing one or two shards as he apologized. “That’ll teach me to serve the expensive stuff.”

“It’s easily replaced.” Sedgewick laughed. “We’ll just have to be careful about how much we let you
drink
.”

Votapek and Sedgewick broke into laughter as Tieg turned his attention to Sarah. “Now you understand why we focus on the
why
, Ms. Trent. The
how
seems to be beyond me.” Again the laughter, this time Sarah joining in, the surest way to mask her astonishment at how easily the men of
Eisenreich
could move from tales of conquest and master races to a simple
miscue
with a wineglass.

Tieg folded the napkin, laying it by his plate as he sat back. “As I said, though, I’m sure it’s the
how
and the
when
that intrigue you most. What you were sent to
confirm.
” He looked at Votapek. “That was the word, wasn’t it, Anton?” He had allowed each man his moment. It was time to press on.

“I believe so, yes.” Votapek smiled, still intent on some fun. “I think Ms. Trent was sent to find out whether one of us might be trying to fly solo. Something about a separate agenda.”

“Flying solo?” Tieg crossed his legs and looked at Sarah. “You mean if one of us was
deceiving
the others?” There was only a slight shift in his tone, his words carrying a twinge of reproach, but even Sedgewick and Votapek showed a moment’s reaction. “Isn’t that ironic, Ms. Trent?
Deception
.
” The word now took on a harsher quality, clearly intended as
accusation
. “For us, it’s the very cornerstone of the
how
,” he added. “Not among ourselves, of course. We would never deceive one another because we trust one another. It’s the people we intend to control—who
need
to be
controlled
—who are the ones we mean to …” He paused, eyes riveted on Sarah, “
Deceive
is such an unpleasant word, don’t you agree, Ms. Trent?” She returned his stare, not once giving in to the alarm bell blaring in her head.
“Manipulate?”
he prodded. “No, that’s no better, is it?
Oversee?
” Now he waited, nodding to himself, his command of the room complete, the mood strikingly different from only moments before. “Yes,
oversee
. I think that captures our intentions.” His gaze remained on her. “Which brings us back to
your
intentions, Ms. Trent. Was I far off the mark when I talked about deception?” The room was suddenly quiet, Votapek and Sedgewick clearly unnerved by Tieg’s insinuation.

Sarah waited. “This meal and conversation answer any misgivings I might have had about your commitment to one another.”

“
Our
commitment to one another.” He was baiting her.

“Yes.” Simple. To the point.

“So readily convinced, Ms. Trent?” Tieg had no intention of letting it go at that, his tone and posture now far more aggressive. He began to shake his head. “It’s not our deceptions that concern me, Ms. Trent—”

“
Our
deceptions?” broke in Sedgewick.

“Keep quiet, Larry.” Tieg kept his eyes on Sarah.

“What do you mean, ‘keep—’”

“I
said
, keep quiet.” The severity in tone was enough to silence the financier. Votapek, too, held his tongue. “It’s
yours
, Ms. Trent,” whispered Tieg. “
That’s
what’s most troubling.
Your
deception. Far more subtle than a few bugged computers or a hidden taping device, wouldn’t you agree?” He now turned to his comrades, their expressions proof enough of the indiscretions. As if dealing with two children, he calmly asked, “What were you thinking?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Do you have
any
idea who she is?” Sarah watched as the two men—only moments ago so pleased with themselves—began to buckle under the scrutiny. “You simply allowed yourselves to buy into the ruse.” Sarah remained silent as Votapek and Sedgewick now erupted.

“What are you talking about, Jonas?” said Sedgewick, his indignant tone a futile attempt at self-command. “What ruse?”

Votapek followed with even greater incredulity. “
Impossible
. I was told we ran a thorough check.
Everything
she said was confirmed—”

“It’s very easy,” continued Tieg, now ignoring the two men and turning back to Sarah, “to lose sight of the obvious when you
want
to impress someone, isn’t it, Ms. Trent? When you feel put up to the challenge?” A strange smile crossed his lips. “And you placed quite a clever little challenge at our feet, didn’t you? That tape Larry made of your conversation with Anton. Most impressive. And very convincing. You picked your target very cleverly.”

Again, Sedgewick exploded. “This is
outrageous
—”

“
No!
” This time, Tieg held nothing back. “What’s outrageous is that the two of you could
ever
have let it go this far. She mentions a few names, choice tidbits from a rather checkered past, and you willingly fill in the rest for her.” His frustration forced a momentary pause, his jawline taut from the tension. “We’re less than a week away from the most crucial moment in a lifetime’s worth of preparation, and you allow
this
to happen.” He now turned on Sarah. “Oh, don’t worry, Ms. Trent. Nothing you’ve done has made that moment any less certain. Nothing you
could
have done would have gotten in the way. You see, chaos is something that comes in small steps. One tiny explosion means nothing. One on top of another—now,
that
is something quite extraordinary. The actual effect is inconsequential. Only what is perceived. And that is unstoppable.
That
is what brings people to their knees.” He paused, aware that he had let himself go too far. “What was it, Ms. Trent—set us on one another? Make us question one another?” His jaw tightened. “We’ve been doing that for years, haven’t we,
boys?
” Neither answered, a forced calm returning to his expression. “‘
Alison’s
role.’” He shook his head as the smile reappeared. “That was clever. It’s exactly what would frighten him most. Isn’t that right, Anton? And all of that about going over the edge, your madness—all in the files. Except you left certain crucial pieces of your past out of the picture. That surprised me, Ms. Trent. Didn’t you think if we had access to
one
we would have access to
all
of your files?” George reappeared at the door, accompanied by three other men.
The broken glass. The signal.
She had seen it too late.