Chapter 59: Wealth and power

Chapter 59: Wealth and power

James and Yadriel returned to the fortified intersection to find that the army presence had been drawn down. A second tank had shown up to tow the Abrams away, though it lacked a tank gun, and was in the process of being hitched up. Crews were overseeing the process, while the remaining Rangers were piling into hummers.

The Ranger captain came up to say goodbye. He was in his late twenties, his blue eyes piercing, faint golden stubble along his jaw and upper lip.

Why do all these soldiers look like kids? James couldnt help but wonder.

But Captain Rawlings had a deep solidity to him, a calm presence that belied his relative youth, and his salute was crisp.

Major, were pulling back to Fort Huntington. Does your squad need a ride out?

No, were going to stay in the area for a bit. Thanks for the James trailed off, trying to think of the right word. The good work. Appreciate it.

Of course, Major.

Oh. One thing. Think I could keep one of those Zeroes? Might come in useful.

Captain Rawlings glanced over to where the three bikes stood together. Honestly sir? You can have the lot of them. After what I saw you and your squad do today, I think you guys would put them to good use. Ill square away the paperwork.

Thank you, captain.

Rawlings gave a curt nod, glanced over the rest of Crimson Hydra, then strode over to one of the last idling hummers.

Everybody else has headed back to the Marriott, said Jason. Ive also told Star Boy about our plans to hang out here for a bit. Get some R&R.

How far is it to your digs, Bjrn? asked Denzel, hands thrust deep in his letterman jacket pockets.

Not far. Though to be honest I rarely walked around. Lets see. This way. Bjrn set off, clearly enthused. Becca moved up to walk alongside him, and the others dropped into a column, with Yadriel and Denzel bringing up the rear and engaging in a low conversation. The rest of them listened as Olaf told an improbable tale of how a Ren Fair battle chess game had gotten out of hand when a group of neo-Nazis had tried to swarm the board, and how hed had to intervene despite being dressed as a lion and wielding only a boffing sword.

The blocks passed quickly, and here and there James still saw signs of life persisting; a cafe filled with people using the Wi-Fi, strangers crammed around tables. People emerging from subway stops. A homeless lady pushing a shopping cart filled with Manna bread.

They reached Bjrns block, and everybody paused to crane their necks back and gape up at his tower. It rose like a bluesteel spear into the heavens and looked to be hundreds of stories tall. Slender, improbable, and perfectly reflective, it appeared to be a building right out of a science fiction movie.

You live in there? asked Yadriel, tone awed.

Only this past year, said Bjrn modestly. Had a bumper profit in 21, and thought: why not spoil myself a little?

The ground floor was surrounded by the ubiquitous scaffolding, but once they navigated this, they reached revolving glass doors set impressively in a two-story facade of steel, more glass, and bronze; the whole front looked like a medieval geometricists fever dream.

Incredibly, two men stood guard at the door, both dressed in old school burgundy doormen uniform, but each with a machine-gun hanging from a strap over their shoulders. They inclined their heads politely to Bjrn as he stepped up, but he ignored them and strode briskly into the lobby beyond.

Bemused, James followed after, and entered a soaring space that could probably have accommodated a normal house. Uncomfortable looking gray leather couches were set around over ugly carpets that looked like badly polished cement. The walls were of hammered bronze. Everything looked expensive.

Bjrn led them to a bank of elevators, called one, and then stepped inside and drew a security card from his wallet which he inserted into a slot beneath the floor numbers and pressed PH at the top.

They all crowded in, and it became readily apparent that they were all in need of a good wash; within moments the elevator filled with the acrid stink of demon blood and sweat.

The ride up was disconcertingly smooth; James didnt feel any acceleration at all, but a moment later the doors parted and Bjrn strode out into a private lobby. Everything was of pale marble, and great Chinese vases held intricately whorled branches that looked to have been laminated in precious metals.

The front door opened before Bjrn reached it, revealing a broad-shouldered man in an elegant suit of slate blue, his head shaved, his manner at once capable and deferential.

Mr. Larsen, said the man, stepping aside.

Weve guests, Peter. Bjrn moved past him and into the penthouse. How much of the staff remains?

Peter held the door open for them all, nodding politely to each of them as they entered. The ka-tet came to a stop as they drifted into the entrance and gaped.

Yo man, this out of control. Bjrn just like, lives here all the time?

The mans a millionaire, said James. Guess he does.

An hour later they all gathered below in the living room. Everyone was showered, clean, and either wearing luxurious terry-cloth white bathrobes or dressed in expensive casual clothing that one of the staff had purchased somehow while they were showering from the shops below.

James sat on the edge of one of the couches and tried not to be intimidated or overly impressed. This was just a fancy apartment. The staff was scarily efficient because they were probably paid in the six-figures to do things exactly like estimate clothing size and anticipate every need.

Still. James couldnt even see the streets from here. Just the tops of high-rises, skyscrapers, an endless spread of geometric shapes, with a handful of demon symbols hanging in the distance.

He stared at them. They were what really mattered. Not this fanciness.

Bjrn appeared at last, showered and in a sleek, black suit. Everyone fell silent as he descended to join them and watched as he moved to stand before the windows and gaze out over the city.

Its fascinating to see what parts of the world insists on functioning, and how. He turned to them all, accepted a glass from Bhavani without glancing at her, and considered the crew. What holds on to the old ways, what falls apart in the face of the new. I was just on the phone with a congressman and then the governor. I can almost see it, the old systems collapsing upon themselves under the weight of their inability to adapt.

Jasons eyebrows shot up. You were on the phone with a congressman?

Congressman Collins, yes. Hes holed up in the Hampshires. Bjrn frowned. I wont be taking his calls anymore.

Dude, said Denzel, his tone awed. How rich are you?

Bjrns smile was dark. A week ago I would have told you: not enough. But now? Much of this had become immaterial.

Not enough? Yadriel leaned forward. Youre like Tony fucking Stark up in here. You got congressmen calling you. Youre a millionaire, right? How is this not enough?

Bjrns smile grew pained. Yadriel. There are degrees of wealth, even at the very top. Where Im at, with a liquid net worth of $76 million, I am - or was - doing all right. I was just starting to play with the real wolves. I could fly private by chartering a jet, stay in any 5-star hotel I desired around the world, and vacation whenever and wherever I liked. This past spring I rented a villa in Cannes during Film Festival - and the cost of $17k per night didnt faze me. I socialized with congressmen, senators, and was a minor figure of some note in the New York social scene. I can buy any car I desire, have a full-time staff, and live, as you can see, in some style.

He gestured around the penthouse with his drink.

Yadriels mouth had slipped open.

But, said Bjrn. I was at the golf club three weeks ago with some friends. I let slip that Id had dinner with Senator Reubens, and my buddy, how really is one of the big boys, laughed and said hed just had dinner with the President. He owns his own jet, has multiple residences like this one, and each with its own staff. His ability to buy things was an art to itself. Once you get above a certain level, you dont own a villa on an exotic island, you own the island itself. They dont own Ferraris and McLarens, they own one of ten models ever made of that kind of luxury car. Bjrn shrugged. So yes, I was doing all right. But Id only begun my climb and had gotten nowhere close to where I wanted to be when this shitstorm blew up.

Serenity sat back, her drink raised to her lips. Its people like you who fucking ruined the world, honey. People like you who are bottomless pits, where no amount of money is ever enough. She shook her head. $76 million? You couldnt spend that much in one lifetime if you tried.

Oh Serenity. Bjrns smile was pitying. Youre looking at this from the outside in. Of course you dont understand. Do you think me a fool, some Scrouge McDuck who simply wishes gold for its own reason?

Golds good, said Denzel.

Then why the need for more money? challenged Serenity. How do you justify it?

Because money buys intangibles of real worth. Im not talking cars or villas. Mere things. Im talking access, influence, experiences, and time. I have one life. I wish to make the most of it that I can. With money comes access to the worlds elite, people of power. The truly wealthy can shape public policy, influence politicians, sway votes, and champion their causes. Im a fan of the Rolling Stones. Last year I paid their fee to come perform at my thirty-seventh birthday party. Ive played tennis with Roger Federer, had private tours of most of the worlds most prestigious museums, had dinner with Nobel-prize winners, and seen this worlds most beautiful, wonderful locations. Ive given millions to local causes, changing countless lives with but a signature. But most importantly, money buys me time. Bjrn moved forward to stand before the coffee table, his eyes all but glowing. I hate waiting. And with money, I never had to. Travel was immediate. I lived in a world where everyone set their clocks by my schedule, and every minute of my life was spent exactly as I wished it.

Serenity had drawn back into the couch.

Bjrns smile was that of a wolf. Money is a means, and the truly wealthy live in worlds of their own creation. That is what I wanted, right up till this apocalypse took place. And now thats all gone. He frowned and looked away. What does power mean in this world, now? The currency will probably collapse soon. Congressmen and senators are growing ever more irrelevant. The military is ascendant, but more importantly, so is Blue Light. And I must admit, I invited you all here for a reason.

Bjrn moved back to the windows and gazed out over the city. Im afraid none of you grasped exactly who I was. The kind of man I used to be. I thought it educational to bring you here and give you a glimpse. And which is why Id like to be more pro-active with the assistance I can give our group. James, youve done an incredible job thus far, but were a team, are we not? Theres no need for you to shoulder all these burdens by yourself. Let me help.

Help how? asked Serenity, tone overtly skeptical.

Bjrns smile was almost kind. Let me handle matters outside Blue Light. James has the common touch, and it make sense that he should keep running things within the org. But politicians, generals, the media - dont you think it would make more sense to let me help there, and to best navigate us through the pitfalls that weve barely avoided thus far?

Bjrn spread his hands, his smile wolfish. Guys. I just want to help.