Chapter 22 – The Second Option

German assesses the situation almost instantly. Gobby lies unconscious on the floor. Ulrich is still in the grip of the young man in the silk robe. The wire has already cut deep into his neck. He tries to seize it from above, but his fingers slide across the stretched metal. Blood wells along the cut. The Logician activates inside German. Ulrich is dead. The conclusion comes at once. No doubt. No second check. The same Ulrich who only minutes ago was their anchor, the only person capable of keeping the situation under control, is gone. The space before him breaks into separate elements: positions of bodies, distance to the exit, the Lord, the young man with the wire, Giselle, Gobby, German’s own injuries. One combination replaces another. Then another. Save himself and Gobby. Calculation. Zero percent. German remains still for only a fraction of a second. Save himself. The new calculation increases the probability of survival. A sequence appears before him: one step left, turn, spray canister, nearest point of cover, exit. The Logician removes Gobby from the route. To German, it feels not like a thought, but like a decision already made.

He begins to turn. Something hard presses against the side of his neck. A short click. A sharp pain pierces the skin. German jerks and grabs the injection site with his right hand. His fingers manage to touch the small injector, but Giselle has already stepped away. He turns toward her. What did you… The words break apart. A burning sensation spreads from the injection site, runs beneath his collarbone, and moves across his chest. The Logician recalculates. Unknown substance. Immediate exit required. German’s left hand drops toward the holster secured to the outside of his left thigh. It resembles a police pistol holster, but has been designed for a spray canister. He releases the fastener and draws it. Giselle is the nearest threat. German raises his left hand and aims at her. His fingers close around the canister, but not tightly enough. It shifts in his palm. German tightens his grip. The hand responds with a slight delay. The Logician registers the change immediately. Motor control decreasing.

German steps toward the exit. His left leg holds. The right buckles. He transfers his weight in time and does not fall, but the movement is uneven. The floor seems to tilt beneath him while remaining perfectly still. Insufficient time to reach the door. Neutralize the closest threat. He aims at Giselle again. She does not approach. She simply watches. German presses his thumb against the actuator. Nothing. His thumb rests on the actuator but cannot depress it fully. His hand begins to tremble. Gobby… He looks toward the floor. Gobby lies only a few meters away. The Logician constructs another route at once: approach, shield him with his body, attempt to lift him. Impossible. German steps toward him. The Logician corrects the direction toward the exit. His body stops between the two routes. Save Gobby. Save himself.

His legs no longer receive a unified command. German sways and drops onto one knee. He immediately tries to rise, plants his right palm against the floor, and shifts his weight, but the hand begins to slide. Sensation retreats from his fingers toward the wrist. The time remaining before complete loss of control is shrinking. No… German forces himself upright. He succeeds, but only for several seconds. The edges of objects begin to blur. Faces remain visible, but the distances between them no longer combine into a coherent structure. The Logician continues issuing commands. Step. Turn. Exit. Step. His body follows each command with a delay.

German moves toward the panoramic window because no one is standing in that direction. It is not an exit, but the Logician selects the only unobstructed vector. The spray canister falls from his left hand and strikes the floor. German hears it but can no longer determine where it stops. He reaches the glass and braces his right palm against it. The cold surface keeps him upright for several seconds. Gobby… help… His tongue becomes heavy. His jaw stops responding. German tries to turn his head. He sees blood on Ulrich’s neck, Gobby on the floor, Giselle, and the Lord. The Logician repeats the conclusion. Ulrich is dead. Then another appears. Gobby cannot be saved. No… German tries to push himself away from the glass. His right arm gives way. His shoulder strikes the panoramic window, and he begins sliding down. His legs are still attempting to hold him. The muscles tense, but the commands no longer reach them at the same time. One leg straightens while the other is already losing support. Need… save… German drops to his knees. His palm leaves a long mark across the glass before slipping away.

The Logician continues working. Building routes. Recalculating distances. Searching for an option that no longer exists. Save himself. Probability remains above zero. German tries to crawl, but his body does not move. He can see Gobby and cannot even extend a hand toward him. He is still conscious. He understands everything, but the body no longer belongs to him. German falls onto his side. His vision narrows to several motionless fragments: the floor, Gobby’s leg, the edge of the silk robe, blood on Ulrich’s neck. The Logician’s final calculation never completes. Darkness reaches him first.

Somewhere far away, almost beyond the edge of consciousness, German hears a wet smacking sound. He opens his eyes to a painted ceiling. The Logician activates at once. Before raising his head, German slowly runs his hands over his body, checking for injuries, then searches for the familiar equipment. There is almost no pain. His movements are unrestricted. Alive. Uninjured. The equipment is gone. He is wearing unfamiliar clothes. Then the memory returns. Gobby. The thought explodes through him almost like a scream. Survive without Gobby. Fear arrives instantly. A tremor runs through his body and breaks his breathing. German tries to regain control, and the Logician immediately begins restoring order, regulating his condition. Fear moves faster. German is still a teenager.

A heavy, warm hand settles on his shoulder. German slowly raises his head. His gaze catches on the hotel room first: unfamiliar furniture, light, walls. Then he sees Gobby. Gobby is sitting directly beside him, chewing something. Crumbs cling to his cheek and the skin around his mouth. He chews several more times, swallows, and only then speaks. Bro… don’t worry. You were shaking so badly back there that I thought… German barely hears the rest. Gobby’s voice is enough. The tension disappears all at once, and the last of German’s strength goes with it. He looks at Gobby alive beside him. Relief almost immediately mixes with shame. Save himself. Survival probability increases.

He tries to speak. To explain. To apologize. Air catches in his throat. His breathing breaks apart. Tears fill his eyes. I… I… Nothing else comes. German tries again and only loses control of his breathing further. Gobby watches him for several seconds, then seems to understand something. Let it go. You’re thinking about the wrong thing. I wouldn’t be mad at you. Here, eat. He takes an empty plate, places two small croissants on it, and pours a thick brown sauce beside them. They’re still warm. Start with these. And the caramel sauce is unreal.

Gobby holds out the plate. His words make German feel even more ashamed. He tries to withdraw into himself again, but Gobby continues holding the food in front of him. Only now does German notice that the entire table is covered with dishes. The Logician engages again, attempting to interpret Gobby’s behavior. No answer. German does not want to eat. The sight of food makes him nauseous. But Gobby is still holding out the plate. German looks at the croissants and finally accepts it. If Gobby truly is not angry, then German should eat. For a while they chew in silence. Gobby with appetite. German without any desire at all, trying to understand what has happened.

Someone knocks, and the door opens almost immediately. The young man German saw before losing consciousness enters first. He is now dressed in simple dark clothing that does not restrict movement. Formerly Number Three in Cerberus’s unit. Now Number One in the Lord’s private army. The man who killed Ulrich and, most likely, Drogo as well. German becomes still. The Logician engages fully: room analysis, distances, exit, possible actions. Gobby starts eating faster, as though someone is about to take the food away.

The Lord enters next, followed by Giselle. The young man closes the door, crosses to the other side of the room, takes a chair, and places it in the center. The Lord and Giselle wait without speaking. When the chair is in position, the Lord sits. Giselle stands to his left. Number One stands to his right. All three look at German and Gobby. No one speaks. The silence makes German even more tense. The Logician reaches a quick conclusion: the conversation will not begin while Gobby is chewing.

German nudges him with an elbow. Gobby, stop chewing. Gobby does not react. Gobby. I can’t. I’m stressed. When I’m stressed, I can’t stop chewing. They won’t start speaking until you do. Gobby looks at German for several seconds, then finally forces himself to stop. He swallows the last mouthful and sits upright, almost like a soldier. It is obvious that he is maintaining the position through willpower alone. The Lord looks at German. Thank you.

Giselle is about to begin in an official tone, but the Lord raises his left hand and stops her with a single movement of his index finger. Then he leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees, and draws in a heavy breath. You two… you’ve caused me a hell of a lot of problems. Because of you little fuckers, I… He stops, exhales, and straightens again. Here’s how this is going to work. Depending on how this conversation goes, I’ll decide what to do with you. Your position is shaky enough as it is, so I’ll give you the options now.

The Lord raises one finger. First, I release you and allow you to continue living your lives as children. He raises a second. Cooperation. With compensation for the damage you have already caused me. Then he raises a third. And there is an option I personally find much more appealing. If either of you makes a sudden move, you will be eliminated on the spot. The Lord glances toward Giselle. But she won’t like the third option. Then I’ll get reprimanded. So I strongly advise you not to test how quickly it can become reality.

He looks from German to Gobby and notices that both have relaxed slightly. As you can see, from your perspective all three options are more or less reasonable. Even safe. Provided neither of you decides to complicate the situation. Are you prepared to hear me out? German watches him for several seconds, then nods. Gobby immediately looks toward German and nods as well. Good. First, consider this an observation, a statement, whatever you prefer. I believe you are victims of circumstance.

Second, you were manipulated. You were used. I understand that right now it feels as though you’ve lost a very good man. Perhaps a mentor. But Ulrich should never have brought you into this life. German continues watching him in silence. He had an assignment. He should have dealt with it. If he had done so in time, boys like you would never have entered a world where you do not belong. And I’ll tell you now, your opinion on that particular point does not matter much to me. But you need to understand one thing. Ulrich worked for me as a contract killer, together with Vann, his partner and student. They failed their assignment.

The Lord turns his attention toward German. They were hunting the Panama Hat Maniac. Drogo. Then he glances briefly toward Giselle. Giselle used to be with him. She left, and Drogo decided everyone was responsible. Her. Me. The entire world. He chose to take revenge on that world. Including me. He was willing to do anything for it. He began hunting my people. Many died. Eventually, you became targets as well. The Lord looks directly at Gobby. More precisely, Gobby did.

Gobby stares back for several seconds before understanding that the Lord means him. Drogo wanted more power. Gobby was one way to obtain it. He did not want that power for control, money, or some grand plan. Only for revenge. He intended to kill both of you so he could take Gobby’s power. That made you his victims. Ulrich used you as puppets. That made you victims there as well. The Lord looks from one to the other. If I simplify the situation, the two men were not particularly different. One looked like a genuine maniac to you. The other looked like a mentor. A friend. Perhaps something more.

He gives a slight shake of his head. I won’t go any further into that argument. You were used. And as I already said, you were never supposed to enter this world. The Lord straightens in the chair. Now for what comes next. Despite everything that happened, I can release you. Completely. I can give you the chance to return to your lives. Whether you are actually capable of living those lives afterward no longer depends only on me. Much of it depends on you.

He looks at Gobby. As you have already learned, some people possess a certain potential. Power. Call it whatever you like. That potential can be used. But even among such people, Gobby is an exception. I do not yet know where that will lead. But something inside him separates him even from the others who possess power. The Lord turns his attention toward German. Which means Gobby may end up in the same situation again.

Especially if information about what happened leaves my territory. It probably will. Every territory has informants. People talk. Some sell information. Others simply see too much. If it becomes known that Gobby possesses something unique even by our standards, other Lords will become interested. Possibly one of the Higher Ones as well.

The Lord pauses. Now the second option. I can use you in exactly the same way Ulrich did. He says nothing more for several seconds. You caused serious damage. I lost roughly ten percent of my fighters, including one experienced team. That was a direct strike against my security. So cooperation as compensation is a real option. You could partially replace the team I lost. Because, however much I dislike admitting it, your skills are good for such a short period of training. A brief pause. Very good.

The Lord leans back. There is no need to explain the third option in detail. You are not completely stupid teenagers. You understand it. What do you get under the first option? You return to your world and continue your lives. I guarantee the same protection I provide to every other citizen within my territory. No more and no less. Your families will be protected as well. In return, I require one thing. Forget everything discussed here. Forget me. Make sure the information never goes beyond your own thoughts.

The Lord shifts slightly in the chair. The second option. You become part of my organization. Your security increases immediately. In return, I require obedience without question. I will not demand what Ulrich demanded from you. Specifically, I will not order you to eliminate targets. The psychological damage would be too great. That must not happen. But when necessary, you must be capable of defending yourselves.

I will provide financial resources, expertise, training, and anything else required. But I will be honest with you. Your view of the world will change completely. It will no longer feel as childish as it does now. The Lord studies them more closely. You will have to grow up very quickly. That transition will damage you as well. Just in a different way.

While he speaks, Giselle’s phone lights up with a message. She does not interrupt. She reads it, waits for a pause, then leans toward the Lord and whispers something into his ear. He nods once and continues. Now I need to know only one thing. Did both of you hear and understand everything I said? If so, nod.

He looks at German. German nods, and Gobby immediately looks at him and does the same. Good. The Lord stands. You have twenty-four hours. Think it over by tomorrow morning. I have to deal with everything you left behind. He turns away. Giselle follows. Number One moves toward the door as well.

No one says goodbye or specifies an exact hour. The chair remains in the middle of the room. They simply leave and close the door behind them. German and Gobby remain alone with the information and no understanding of what they are supposed to do next. Gobby turns toward German in confusion. What the hell was all that supposed to–

He never finishes. Gobby. The voice comes from somewhere far away. Gobby. Again. Gobby. Gobby. The hotel room disappears.

Gobby opens his eyes. The sky is green again, with dark marsh-colored clouds. Gobby, you need to act. The target is approaching the designated location. A brief pause. Are you awake?

Gobby brings his head upright. He has been sitting on a bench beside the canal, with the back of his head almost resting against the edge of the flower bed behind him so he can look at the sky. The water and the Old Town lie in front of him. The world of essences still surrounds everything.

In this perception, the city is different. The sky, water, walls, and stone pavement all fade into shades of green beneath a marsh-colored layer. The Old Town is full of movement, but the things moving are not people. Essences. They pass between buildings, stretch along streets, stop beside walls, appear on rooftops, and disappear around corners. Some are small and dense. Others are elongated, almost without shape. Some move beside human silhouettes. Others trail behind them. Some shift in ways that make it impossible to tell which person they belong to.

Gobby watches for several seconds. In this state, faces barely matter. Clothes, age, and the way a person walks become a secondary layer. Something else is more important. Is there an essence beside the person? Is it sleeping? Does it move independently? Does it look back? Sometimes the most disturbing people are not those with active essences, but those with nothing beside them at all.

Gobby closes his eyes. For several seconds, everything disappears. When he opens them again, the green sky is gone. The clouds return to their normal color. The water returns to its normal color. The Old Town becomes a city again instead of a place where something moves over and around the people.

Gobby, the target has moved toward the school. Stay close to the canal. German’s voice remains calm. Gobby rises from the bench and heads toward the Old Town. The target is moving quickly. One contact nearby. Probably a teenager.

Gobby does not answer. He only increases his pace. Don’t rush. We need confirmation of the exchange first. He enters the Old Town. Narrow streets. Stone beneath his feet. People around him. Everything looks normal again, but after the world of essences, the ordinary city seems too clean. Too calm.

The target has moved behind the school. Begin the operation.

Gobby continues for several meters, then turns into an alley. A man between twenty-five and twenty-seven stands in the center. A teenager is facing him. The man quickly passes several small LSD blotter tabs into the teenager’s hand. Gobby stops at the entrance. The man notices him almost immediately. His eyes linger on Gobby for a second, assessing him, then he turns sharply and heads toward the opposite exit. German appears from that side.

The man stops. For several seconds, he looks from Gobby to German. Then he makes a decision and charges toward German. German’s left hand is already resting on the spray canister, but he does not get the chance to use it.

A low, inhuman growl sounds behind the man. Fall.

The man freezes. Not because he understands the command. His body simply does not dare disobey it. His shoulders lock. His breathing breaks. His gaze becomes empty for an instant. The teenager beside the wall stops moving as well. German freezes with them. For several seconds, the entire alley becomes still.

Then Gobby’s voice reaches him through the earpiece. German.

German blinks sharply. The Logician activates first. One step forward. His left hand catches the man’s wrist. His right hand rises toward the side of the man’s neck. A short click.

The man jerks and tries to turn, but German has already stepped away, holding a compact injector of the same type Giselle once used on him. For several seconds, nothing happens. The man takes one step, then another. He tries to raise an arm, but the movement lags. His fingers stop responding. His knees buckle.

German knows what comes next. He moves closer and catches the man before he hits the stones. The target remains conscious, but his body no longer follows commands. Several seconds later, his gaze loses focus.

The teenager remains beside the wall, several blotter tabs still clenched in one hand. Gobby approaches and extends his palm. Give them to me. The teenager looks at him, then slowly opens his fingers. Gobby takes the tabs and puts them into his pocket.

For several seconds, his perception changes. The stone walls of the alley take on the color of marsh water. The teenager’s human outline becomes pale, and the essence inside him becomes visible. It contracts and attempts to retreat deeper, but Deda can already see it.

Gobby’s voice changes. It is not louder or harsher, but the essence inside the teenager immediately submits to his authority. Do not let him take this again. The command bypasses the teenager’s consciousness and remains inside him. The essence twitches, then goes still, accepting Deda’s will.

The ordinary world returns. Gobby looks into the teenager’s eyes. Go home. The teenager does not react immediately. Home, Gobby repeats more quietly. The teenager nods and leaves the alley quickly without looking back.

German checks the target’s breathing, then returns the injector to its mount on his equipment. Target secured. LSD blotter distributor. We’re taking him to base. Gobby approaches and watches the unconscious man for several seconds. Is he alive?

German does not raise his head. Alive. The drug temporarily shuts down motor control.

Gobby nods and looks toward the exit where the teenager disappeared. German notices. Others will handle the boy from here.

Gobby says nothing. He takes the confiscated blotter tabs from his pocket and shows them to German. German gives a short nod.

Together, they lift the man and carry him out of the alley.