All that planning went out the window when he came through the door.
"You needn't have blindfolded me," he said, his rich voice full of dignity and aplomb. "I used to work here, you know." Eve clung to the old man's elbow as if she were afraid he would disappear from her life again. "May I sit down?" he asked graciously. "I'm an old man, and the trip was very long." He pulled a chair out from the table and sank down on it, hanging his cane on its back.
Max had decided to get down to business, dissecting the Conclave's intentions once and for all. Instead she asked him why he made them.
"Us?" he asked.
"Manticore."
"Well I thought that should have been obvious by now," he raised his eyebrows. "Did you not get my message?"
"Which one?" Max was getting frustrated quickly. She had hoped...she had expected, that Sandeman would recognize her immediately and hold her like he used to when she was a child.
"Well, now. That's a problem, my dear," he chuckled. Max wondered if she remembered his hair being that white, if his face had been so wrinkled. She was sure his blue eyes weren't so dead and haunted.
"How long do we have before the Conclave starts Armageddon?" she tried again.
"I gave up that life years ago," he slouched back, aging ten years as he answered. "I'm sure I don't know the answer to that."
"Well you're going to have to," she said. "Let's go. Eve, you're staying."
"She has as much right to know as any of my children!" Sandeman insisted as he grabbed his cane and stood up.
"Your children?" Eve asked, wide-eyed. She looked at Alec, horrified that she might have kissed her brother.
"It's an expression," Alec said.
"No, it's not," Sandeman corrected him. "It's just not a literal turn of phrase. You are the world's children as much as my own. Descendants of societies past and present. Now, where to?"
"Your old digs," she told him as she pulled up the man-hole covering like it weighed nothing.
The walk through the sewers was quiet, and Max tried to get herself under control. Already she felt herself getting jealous of Eve, Alec, and Joshua, and trying too hard to impress this feeble old man. She never realized before that she wanted a father so much. If Logan were here, he'd tell her that Sandeman was only human and that there would be plenty of time after she took out the Conclave to catch up with him and build that relationship. But Logan was still feverish and couldn't talk, much less think. She never felt more alone.
Finally, they arrived at Sandeman's old house, where Joshua had lived for a brief time, and Logan, too. Max wondered what Sandeman would think of Logan. She thought he might be impressed with Logan's exceptional mind, kind heart, and sense of style and refinement.
The minute they opened the door, Joshua grabbed Sandeman in a hug. "Father."
"Joshua?" Sandeman was starting to sound human. "Joshua, let me look at you, my boy!" Sandeman pulled away from Joshua's embrace and inspected him proudly. "You look great!" he decided, and hugged the tall transgenic again.
Max had never seen her Big Fella so happy, and that made her despise him.
Yep, sibling rivalry was a bitch.
It was morning before Sandeman and his offspring got around to talking about the end of the world.
"I tried to leave you hints everywhere, angel. You didn't get them?"
"I got them. I just didn't have my Sandeman decoder ring. I left it at Manticore when I escaped," Max replied.
"Don't sass me," Sandeman warned. Max smiled. It felt good to hear that. "Did you or did you not get the runes?" She did. "It wasn't a literal warning," he told her. "Well it was and it wasn't. When the Hour approaches, all the world will be forced to undergo the Rite. I've made you immune. In your veins flows the salvation for the world."
"The Hour? The Rite?"
Sandeman sighed. "You haven't even figured out that much for yourself? I figured you'd have all the pieces together before you came for me. I'm a little disappointed. Granted, I didn't leave you with many resources, but I figured you would find someone smart enough to find and decipher the Old Texts."
"I did. He did. He's...sick."
"Logan?" Eve looked panicked again. That girl had been on an emotional rollercoaster all night. Max was surprised she was even still awake, given how exhausting the last twelve hours had been and everything she'd been through. All the transgenics she'd met. At least she was too tired to be mad at Alec right now.
"What happened to Logan?" Alec asked, looking at Joshua, who seemed slightly guilty of something.
"Luke and Dix said that the radiation was getting to him," Max said, though she wasn't sure she believed that story. But she couldn't deal with that line of thought right now, so she just chose to accept it.
"Well, what did Logan find out?" Sandeman asked, steering the conversation back on target.
"He said that the cult might be as old as time itself and was linked somehow to the Garden of Eden."
Sandeman whistled. "Very good. And?"
"And that's as far as we got before an emergency stopped us." Max looked pointedly at Alec, who spread his arms innocently.
"He's absolutely on the right track. Not bad for a Normal. Well, at least I assume he's a Normal. Everything you need to know is right there. Verification of its importance: Eve." He nodded to his biological daughter. "I thought that one was a bit obvious. And how did the Biblical Eve get everyone kicked out of Eden?"
"Apple," Joshua said.
"Close."
"Snake."
Sandeman threw his arms up in the air. "Brilliant! My boy is brilliant."
"Snake?" Max asked, and the big picture opened up for her. "The snakes in the Rite of passage every member of the Conclave goes through. I'm immune to the venom. Anyone unworthy of the brotherhood dies during that ceremony."
"Yep! There it is: 30 years of planning explained in less than a minute." Sandeman seemed pleased with himself and proud of his children. Max suddenly thought that he must not get the opportunity to beam like a proud father often.
"But when is the Hour? Logan mentioned star charts..."
"The Hour was supposed to be in June of 2009."
"The day of the Pulse," Alec mused. "Your doing?" Sandeman inclined his head in a sort of bow.
"I had to delay them until my champion," he indicated Max, "was ready." His tone turned dark. "To answer your question, the meteor showers are almost at an end. The Hour draws near."
"We have a big problem," White told the Elders.
"They got to his daughter first? How did that happen?" a woman with a pixie face and short hair asked him.
"Forget the daughter! The transgenic filth have the Old Texts?" another one, a man, yelled.
"At this point, I think we should assume the worse," White said. A faint trace of a smile sat on his face; he was enjoying being right about 452 and her band of misfits. His faith still lay with the Conclave, however; he knew that no matter what, they would survive this setback. Soon there would be no more setbacks. "Are we ready to carry out the Rite?"
"Are you suggesting we proceed with the Hour ahead of schedule?" the woman asked, appalled.
"I hate to say it, but it makes sense," the male Elder said. "We will discuss it with the Council. Ames, find your father. Kill him and anyone who gets in the way. He's become far too much of a threat to be left alive."
"It would be my pleasure," White said. "Fe'nos tol." He walked to his car, started the engine, and began to drive. He had no destination in mind, and was not paying attention to his surroundings. So it had come to this: he was required to kill his own father. Finally, he would not have to live with the knowledge that his father had disgraced his family line by producing the very filth that threatened the Rite. However...
Sandeman was still his father. Just as he could not bear to terminate his weakling brother CJ, he was finding it difficult to think of having to destroy his father. Somehow he had assumed that once the Rite was underway, CJ would either survive or be found unworthy a second time, a loss White could tolerate. There was honor in that fate, after all. And with the rest of the pathetic human race gone, his father would have no-one to save. White had been hoping that his family might be made whole again. Ray would be found in short order once the bombs went off, and most of the population died. Three generations of men would emerge from the smoke victorious.
Well, White would settle for two generations if his father brought it to that. Sacrifices must be made so that the deserving, the superior could survive in peace. Yes, there was honor in that, too: taking a life so others could live in a paradise the likes of which the world had not seen since its creation.
Sandeman and 452.
It would indeed be a pleasure to terminate them both.