“And this is the recreation floor.”
Whiskey exited the elevator with the others, seeing exercise machines through the glass wall before her. Margaurethe had insisted they have a look at the building right after breakfast, and so they had been given a whirlwind tour of business offices, parking structures, ballrooms and R&D laboratories. This had been the first floor that looked remotely interesting, though the employee cafeteria had been noteworthy.
With a good night’s rest, Zebediah had gotten over his scare and was back to his rascal self. “Oh, sweet! Swimming pools!” He opened the door to one side of a security desk, and dashed inside, followed closely by Cora and Alphonse.
“Just finished!” Margaurethe called after them. She mirrored Whiskey’s grin, and held the door open for the rest. “They look small, but you can set a current to swim against. This is the cardiovascular room.”
Whiskey entered the room with the equipment, seeing what Zebediah had spotted from the hall—another set of windows that revealed a sunken room beyond with multiple pools. The door to it had just snicked closed, though it didn’t muffle the whoop of excitement from the brothers as they promptly stripped to their underwear and cannonballed into the water.
“And the pools.” Margaurethe opened that door, revealing a set of steps down into the tiled area. Waving to the left, she indicated another set of steps up to a second tiled level. “We moved the original Jacuzzi to make room for more swimming areas. Since we had the room, we added another.”
Castillo carefully averted his eyes as Cora, wearing nothing but her panties, carefully stepped into one of the hot tubs. “Have you included weight equipment?”
“Oh, yes.” Margaurethe led them through the room, up a set of three steps, and through a door. “The weight room is here, with state of the art equipment and free weights. There’s a small room farther on for massage appointments.” Turning, she pointed out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “And a couple of smaller gymnasiums to use for yoga, general exercise. Those rooms take up two floors, so one can play racquetball or basketball, though the courts aren’t regulation.”
“Wow.” And this is all mine? She’d spent so much time trying to keep her people entertained without putting them in danger, she had never considered the implications. Taking a leadership role with the European Sanguire would be brutally difficult, yes, but there were perks. Here her pack would be safe from harm. She would still have to keep close tabs on them, but they would have the opportunity to eat well, sleep without worry, and perhaps do something with their lives should they decide.
Margaurethe’s arm looped through hers, interrupting her thoughts. Grinning at the smile she saw on Margaurethe’s face, she considered another bonus. Not to mention a chance to get to know her better.
“Let me show you the rest of the floor.”
Accompanied by Castillo, Whiskey allowed herself to be led out into the hall, past the bank of elevators. The security desk was occupied, of course, and it looked like the officers had a room in the corner. Double glass doors led outside.
“A patio and garden,” Margaurethe murmured, continuing around the corner.
Daniel drifted toward the inviting sunlight, stepping outside.
“Down this hall we have eight rooms for gaming, half of them open to the corridor. At the end is the child-care facility.”
Whiskey gave her guide a sharp look. “Child care?”
Margaurethe nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve learned through the years that the better you treat your employees, the more loyal they’ll be. I include child care in every facility. Women tend to shorten their maternity leave, and work longer hours knowing their children are safely cared for on the premises.”
Whiskey’s first thought was for her best friend in Seattle. Pregnant and homeless, she’d probably already had the child. Whiskey missed Gin fiercely, but knew that their time was past. The chaos of learning she was Sanguire and going through the Ñíri Kurám had put a wall between them. Whiskey’s involvement in the accidental death of Dominick, a teenager attached to Gin’s street family, had forever closed the door on their friendship.
“Are you all right?”
She shook herself, realizing she had stopped walking. “Sorry. Thinking about something else.”
Margaurethe did not pry. She nodded, patted Whiskey’s forearm and continued down the hall. They passed an open area with two pool tables, another with arcade games, and a third with comfortable seating and a large flat-screen television. “Shall we sit down a moment?”
Castillo backed up a step, preparing to return to the others. “I’ll go check on Daniel.”
“No.” Margaurethe held out her hand to him. “I’d like you to stay, as well, James. You’re one of Whiskey’s advisors, and should be privy to this conversation.”
The use of Castillo’s given name surprised Whiskey. It surprised him, too, as he stood a moment with mouth agape. Over and above the concern that she needed an advisor in this discussion, Whiskey found his demeanor funny enough to grin. “C’mon, Padre. Sit down.” She followed her own advice, and dropped onto a couch.
He raised his chin, and joined Whiskey. Margaurethe sat in an armchair facing them. “Now that you’ve seen the property, do you have any questions of me?”
Whiskey wondered which of her thousands of questions should be spoken first. “Where does the money come from?”
“The majority of the capital comes from my own companies and accounts.” Margaurethe stared off into the distance, deep in thought and memory. “I’ve spent decades focusing on communication technology and software. Over the years, I’ve held contracts with a number of governments, and my equipment can be found as close as the nearest cell phone, and as far away as the Hubble telescope.”
Whiskey felt her jaw drop open. “The Hubble? Really?”
Margaurethe smiled. “Yes. My past research and development teams have been brilliant. When the first advances in computers came out, I made certain to buy into them.” She laughed, a musical sound that brightened the room. “To be sure, we’re not talking major portions of any space-faring satellite or Earth-bound computer. A simple line of command code, or a particular transistor or chip on a motherboard is all there is.”
“Your work is impressive, Ki’an Gasan.” Castillo looked at Whiskey. “It’s rumored that she’s the richest European Sanguire in the world.”
Whiskey could find no words. From a modern perspective, it made sense that the Sanguire would expand and grow with the industrial advantages. With the same person making the investment decisions for hundreds of years, it seemed a sure thing even considering stock fluctuation. “Do you have any business competition from other Euros?”
“No.” Margaurethe shook her head.
She sat back. “No? I’d think that half the conglomerations in the world are headed by our people.”
Castillo shook his head. “You’d think wrong. To my knowledge, Ki’an Gasan Margaurethe is the only private individual to have done so.”
“But—” Whiskey looked from one to the other, sitting up from her slump. “But why? Look at all the money to be had, all the power!”
Margaurethe smiled. “Money and power amongst Humans isn’t that important.”
Castillo’s somber look validated Margaurethe’s words.
Racism. Unable to sit still, Whiskey jumped to her feet and paced the room. “How do they survive then? How do they get money for food? For personal goods?”
“Many do dabble in the stocks,” Margaurethe said, standing as well. “Most have ancestral lands. Our families do not grow as quickly as Human ones, so we’ve not had much reason to ‘make money’ for the sake of shelter or food. Most properties are working farmlands paying Humans wages to do the work. Those that have been overrun by urban growth have sunk their inheritance into real estate. There are many ways to get by without having to…” She trailed off.
“Without having to sully their hands by working with Humans instead of having Humans slave for them,” Whiskey finished. She saw the feudal form of governance surviving through the Middle Ages with a population of people who had been born and raised within its framework.
Margaurethe’s answer was simple. “Yes.”
Whiskey stopped at the window. It overlooked the patio and garden. A few trees and hedges ran along the far wall, presumably the end of the building. Despite the late winter cold, there were a number of green plants soaking up sunlight. Daniel sat on a wooden bench under the shade of a hedge, reading a book.
Superimposing itself over the view was an image of Elisibet’s gardens somewhere in Eastern Europe, the place where Margaurethe had first been drawn to the Sweet Butcher. All that was needed to complete the scene was a fountain in which the young handmaidens could play. She closed her eyes, remembering the sight of the youthful Margaurethe, dripping with water after being splashed by a playmate, and a grin touched her lips.
A few seconds later, she opened her eyes to see Daniel instead of Margaurethe. Sighing, she turned back. “Why didn’t you do the same?”
Margaurethe cocked her head in thought. “Because I needed to prepare for you.”
“Prepare?” Whiskey walked back to the couch, but didn’t sit.
“Yes. I knew you would return. And I knew you’d need a stable treasury, and a way to communicate with your people. What better way than to become the world’s largest telecommunications technology corporation?”
There was something else, something she avoided saying. Whiskey studied Margaurethe a moment, searching for a lie and not finding one. “So. What happens now?”
Margaurethe glanced at Castillo on the couch. “That depends entirely upon you, Whiskey.” She returned her stare. “If you stay, you’ll become the president of a corporation. As you learn how to do the job, you’ll be given more control. As you gain more control in business, you’ll do so in politics. I’ve already been contacted by the We Wacipi Wakan, and they wish to make a treaty with you. Soon the other governments will do so, as well.”
None of which has anything to do with the European Sanguire. Whiskey frowned, scrubbing the back of her neck with one hand. “But what about the Agrun Nam? What about the prophecy?”
Taking a moment to consider her words, Margaurethe finally said, “They’ll come into line or they won’t. I think that your destiny is much bigger than retaking control of the Agrun Nam.”
“Bigger?”
Castillo cleared his throat. “Rather than setting her at the head of a single government, you mean to have her lead all of them?”
Margaurethe’s smile was wondrous as she quoted Mahar’s prophecy. “She’ll save the Sanguire, even as she destroys them.”
Rather than fall down, Whiskey flopped back onto the couch.
“That would definitely destroy things.” Castillo stroked his beard in thought. “Sanguire culture has changed dramatically over the last hundred or so years. What you suggest will hasten the demise of the multigenerational feudal compound.”
Margaurethe made a noise of agreement. “We must have something come out of it. As it is now, our younglings are running like wild wolves among sheep. Our natural tendency to treat Humans as prey has forced our people to remain within their antiquated lifestyles.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Humans breed like rabbits compared to us! If we don’t find a way to gain control of modern society, our people will never survive.”
“So, you interpret the foretold destruction as Whiskey bringing the Sanguire out of the Dark Ages?”
“I do.” In an easy gesture, Margaurethe took Whiskey’s hand in her own. “I’ve discovered that every Sanguire nation has a similar myth or prophecy. We know that you’re Elisibet reborn; of that there is no doubt. But what if you’re also destined to unite all Sanguire, not just the Europeans?”
Only Margaurethe’s hand on hers kept Whiskey from jumping up to run away. She’d had enough trouble coming to terms with being the Euro Ninsumgal, now she was supposed to rule the world? Too many thoughts and emotions ran through her. She found it difficult to follow a single train of thought. “Can I have a moment with the padre?”
Margaurethe studied her a moment, worry upon her face. She raised her chin in capitulation. “Of course. I’ll check in on the children in the pool.”
Whiskey squeezed Margaurethe’s hand before releasing her. She smiled. “Thanks.”
Mollified, Margaurethe returned the smile before leaving them.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Whiskey turned to Castillo. “What do you think?”
“I think she may have something, at least as far as the method of destruction Elisibet’s return could cause. It’s been debated for centuries, and this makes sense.”
“But what about the rest?”
He shrugged. “That I can’t tell you. I haven’t had the opportunity to do the research. I’d have to look into it myself to give you a comprehensive answer.”
Whiskey looked away, leaning forward to put her elbows on her knees. She stared at the floor between her feet. “What the hell do I do, Padre?”
“Knowledge is power. Stay. Learn.” He shifted beside her and when he spoke again, his voice was closer, quieter. “In the short term, you’ll be safe from Valmont’s clutches. Your people can live and play without care. Eventually, you’ll take control. If you don’t like the path set before you, you’ll have the strength and knowledge to step aside when you decide to.”
She chewed her lower lip, mulling over his words. Last night she had slept the sleep of the dead, fully relaxed for the first time in weeks. One thing she had not told Margaurethe about her time on the streets was always having to be alert, the many sleepless nights. Having to worry about the next meal, the next crisis, the next attack, always took its toll. It would be nice to lay that particular burden down, even for a short time.
But how many others will take its place? Whiskey had no idea what sorts of decisions she would have to make as head of a corporation. Thanks to her memories, she knew the problems with which a despot had to deal. But a business? Do I really have a choice?
A door opened, and a dozen Human children ranging between two and six years of age walked by the open room, chattering excitedly. Each was clothespinned to a bright colored rope as two young women escorted them down the hall. They all carried some manner of towel or plastic toy. Trailing behind them, a third woman toted an inflatable pool.
Castillo watched them pass. “I certainly hope Cora has dressed herself.”
Whiskey chuckled. Maybe I don’t have a choice just yet, but I can at least change things here and now for the Humans I can reach. “Let’s go find Margaurethe, and tell her we’ll be staying.”