01-23-2018, 09:38 PM
When Armande was four years old, his mother had been living with a few of the women she worked with in the brothel in Syracuse. While there was certainly drama among some of the girls, in general there existed a very supportive atmosphere. Many had children and, on nights his mother might have to work, he would be watched by one of those women, would play with the kids his age.
One older boy that he often followed around in the hopes he would be accepted had a toy car. It had had to be wound up to run. Batteries were expensive, so toys that depended on them were generally avoided.
It was always amusing to watch the car get wound, tighter and tighter until the key wouldn't turn anymore, and then be set free on the kitchen linoleum floor. The car screamed and ran from one wall to the other, bouncing about, yet somehow staying upright, to ricochet off yet another wall and so on. It seemed to run at full speed forever, bouncing endlessly.
Armande smiled to himself. From the moment Valeriya had awakened, she was that car. She bounced out of the bed, chattering excitedly, as she hurried to prepare herself, chivvying him to move faster, shave faster, dress faster. At one point he had to stop and laugh, which of course prompted more pushing.
Which meant that it was only a short time from when she'd awakened to their leaving, her hand tightly in his, leaving the safehouse. He'd taken a moment to leave behind instructions and assignments. They would only be gone a few hours. This was her first foray after all. The others would get bored though, left alone. But he had plans for them.
While she had dressed, he had messaged Thiess, this time telling him to come himself to meet. Armande had wrapped himself in a shemagh he had put thermal reflectors in. He also wore light scattering sunglasses.
When they stepped out of the safehouse, he couldn't help but see things differently. He'd been underground for weeks and even though he knew the sun was weak for this time of year, it felt bright. Almost too bright. After a moment, he removed his glasses and gave them to her. He would quickly readapt. She had only every known the pale yellow blue light of tallow and oni oil. "It will help keep the sun from hurting your eyes until you get used to it."
The shemagh would do until he could stop and buy another pair. While the safehouse had all manner of things, sunglasses probably had never crossed anyone's mind. But there had been money.
He opened the truck door and motioned for her to get in. He also fastened the seat belt, explaining its purpose. Now that they were outside, she seemed to absorb everything she could see and hear.
He started the truck and they drove. At the nearest fuel depot, they got out- the trick of the buckle something he almost forgot to explain. Then, they went into the convenience store. Standard quick food sat out, some soups or stews hot and steaming, other items, cabbage rolls, wraps and everything else in the chiller. "Food," he explained, though only purchased drinks and another pair of glasses. The brackish water of the under ground and the fermented algae-like sludge that served as alcohol had been the only drinks he knew they had. Fresh bottled water would taste sweet.
He explained everything to her, using modern Russian names for concepts or things they had no words for. His glasses back, he felt more secure. He did not know if his face was truly known but the cameras were everywhere. They drove from the Red Light District, onto the Golden Circle and from their spiralled inward.
At one point they drove along the Moskva River and in the distance was The Kremlin and St. Basillica's. Perversely, part of him wanted to go there, to stand in front of Brandon's obscene monument. To show he was not gone. If Brandon had survived and come back to life....well, so had Armande Nicodemus.
But for now, he was content to point them out to Valeriya, explaining what they were. And that was where he had attacked Apollyon, had nearly (or maybe definitely) killed him. Another time.
They drove until they were near Park Kultury Metro station. He found a spot and parked. Just across the way was Gorky Park. Until 30 years ago, it had been filled with amusement park rides and numerous shops and cafes, a reflection of the new energy the fall of the Soviet Union had brought. Prior to that, it had been austere, somehow reflecting the age of the Iron Curtain. But then, 30 years ago, all but a few of the rides were removed, hundreds of acres of grass and gardens and trees were put in or cultivated. A large ice rink was installed. In a short period of time, Gorky Park came to be the equal of any park in the world.
Grudgingly, he admitted, the CCD continued the care, expanding the park, until it was not equal, but superior to any other park anywhere.
Little shops and cafes dotted it, but there was an elegance and beauty to it all. The shashlik cafes served skewered meats in the styles of the Turks, the Russians, Morocco, Iran, India and many other places. He took Valeriya to one as they waited for Theiss and he ordered, letting her sample it all. They walked from shop to shop and examined all the wares, knick knacks, jewelry, artwork, garments, glassware, and all other manner of items.
They walked through the gardens and trees. Most of the beds were dormant of their most vibrant colored flowers, but there were still bright oranges and yellows and purples greens and red of the perenniels, especially in their leaves and vines.
It was enjoyable to watch it all through her eyes. But the idyl could not last forever. His wallet beeped. "It's time to go meet Theiss, Valeriya."
They walked to the agreed upon bench and soon the older man was wheeling himself down the path in his chair. Armande had given her his wallet and put on a translation app. It wasnt perfect, but the language AI still provided a fair approximation to Russian. With headphones, she could listen and know what was going on.
He only glanced at the man and then proceeded to gaze ahead, studying the other park visitors. He wasn't suspicious, not of Theiss, but others might have followed. In any case, it wasn't a habit he'd break now.
"I was heartened to hear you had survived,"
the man said in a still strong voice, though pitched low. "Fear has seized many. Especially after....."
Armande nodded. He understood. "Our enemy is the Destroyer. He will not be killed so easily as we had thought. But our war is not done." He nodded to Valeriya. "This is Valeriya. She is an ally. She leads a small group that descended from the Atharim long ago. They are fierce and will strengthen our number."
In truth, that was the smallest thing the Khylsty would do. Valeriya herself, along the belongings they had safeguarded were the real treasure. She more than them, especially to him personally. But that was for him to know.
Theiss was silent for a while."As to that.....well, Rome has been silent since you disappeared. It is only recently that my digging has finally indicated why."
Again he paused, this time so long Armande was going to snap at him. "The revelation of our existence has placed the Church and the Holy Father himself in a difficult position. He cannot afford to turn his back on us completely, though I wouldn't be surprised at all if he wanted to. And he cannot afford to force Brandon to begin to take more direct control in Vatican affairs. As you know, the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church has long resented the apparant autonomy of his counterpart in Rome."
Armande knew all to well. It took regular intervention of Atharim Orthodox priests to keep the tension from doing more than slowly simmer. A sickening feeling filled his stomach. He had a feeling he knew where Theiss was going. The feeling was betrayal and it threatened to become anger quickly.
"The Pope has appointed a new Regus." he said quietly, glancing at Valeriya. Theiss nodded, unsurprised. Armande was silent, mulling. Curiously, though his anger leached away. He remembered the idol of the Regus. His sin. He was Armande. Regus was just a position.
The man was reality. He smiled tightly, feeling a perverse sort of pleasure. He was not angry, no. He was motivated. More than that, excited. To do what he needed he still had to be Regus. But.....The Holy Father and the new "Regus" would learn.
His voice was deadly, quiet steel being drawn. "If they thought I was intimidating as the Regus, the Holy Father and his new puppet will soon learn the Khylsty Armande is terrifying."
Edited by Regus, Jan 23 2018, 10:25 PM.
One older boy that he often followed around in the hopes he would be accepted had a toy car. It had had to be wound up to run. Batteries were expensive, so toys that depended on them were generally avoided.
It was always amusing to watch the car get wound, tighter and tighter until the key wouldn't turn anymore, and then be set free on the kitchen linoleum floor. The car screamed and ran from one wall to the other, bouncing about, yet somehow staying upright, to ricochet off yet another wall and so on. It seemed to run at full speed forever, bouncing endlessly.
Armande smiled to himself. From the moment Valeriya had awakened, she was that car. She bounced out of the bed, chattering excitedly, as she hurried to prepare herself, chivvying him to move faster, shave faster, dress faster. At one point he had to stop and laugh, which of course prompted more pushing.
Which meant that it was only a short time from when she'd awakened to their leaving, her hand tightly in his, leaving the safehouse. He'd taken a moment to leave behind instructions and assignments. They would only be gone a few hours. This was her first foray after all. The others would get bored though, left alone. But he had plans for them.
While she had dressed, he had messaged Thiess, this time telling him to come himself to meet. Armande had wrapped himself in a shemagh he had put thermal reflectors in. He also wore light scattering sunglasses.
When they stepped out of the safehouse, he couldn't help but see things differently. He'd been underground for weeks and even though he knew the sun was weak for this time of year, it felt bright. Almost too bright. After a moment, he removed his glasses and gave them to her. He would quickly readapt. She had only every known the pale yellow blue light of tallow and oni oil. "It will help keep the sun from hurting your eyes until you get used to it."
The shemagh would do until he could stop and buy another pair. While the safehouse had all manner of things, sunglasses probably had never crossed anyone's mind. But there had been money.
He opened the truck door and motioned for her to get in. He also fastened the seat belt, explaining its purpose. Now that they were outside, she seemed to absorb everything she could see and hear.
He started the truck and they drove. At the nearest fuel depot, they got out- the trick of the buckle something he almost forgot to explain. Then, they went into the convenience store. Standard quick food sat out, some soups or stews hot and steaming, other items, cabbage rolls, wraps and everything else in the chiller. "Food," he explained, though only purchased drinks and another pair of glasses. The brackish water of the under ground and the fermented algae-like sludge that served as alcohol had been the only drinks he knew they had. Fresh bottled water would taste sweet.
He explained everything to her, using modern Russian names for concepts or things they had no words for. His glasses back, he felt more secure. He did not know if his face was truly known but the cameras were everywhere. They drove from the Red Light District, onto the Golden Circle and from their spiralled inward.
At one point they drove along the Moskva River and in the distance was The Kremlin and St. Basillica's. Perversely, part of him wanted to go there, to stand in front of Brandon's obscene monument. To show he was not gone. If Brandon had survived and come back to life....well, so had Armande Nicodemus.
But for now, he was content to point them out to Valeriya, explaining what they were. And that was where he had attacked Apollyon, had nearly (or maybe definitely) killed him. Another time.
They drove until they were near Park Kultury Metro station. He found a spot and parked. Just across the way was Gorky Park. Until 30 years ago, it had been filled with amusement park rides and numerous shops and cafes, a reflection of the new energy the fall of the Soviet Union had brought. Prior to that, it had been austere, somehow reflecting the age of the Iron Curtain. But then, 30 years ago, all but a few of the rides were removed, hundreds of acres of grass and gardens and trees were put in or cultivated. A large ice rink was installed. In a short period of time, Gorky Park came to be the equal of any park in the world.
Grudgingly, he admitted, the CCD continued the care, expanding the park, until it was not equal, but superior to any other park anywhere.
Little shops and cafes dotted it, but there was an elegance and beauty to it all. The shashlik cafes served skewered meats in the styles of the Turks, the Russians, Morocco, Iran, India and many other places. He took Valeriya to one as they waited for Theiss and he ordered, letting her sample it all. They walked from shop to shop and examined all the wares, knick knacks, jewelry, artwork, garments, glassware, and all other manner of items.
They walked through the gardens and trees. Most of the beds were dormant of their most vibrant colored flowers, but there were still bright oranges and yellows and purples greens and red of the perenniels, especially in their leaves and vines.
It was enjoyable to watch it all through her eyes. But the idyl could not last forever. His wallet beeped. "It's time to go meet Theiss, Valeriya."
They walked to the agreed upon bench and soon the older man was wheeling himself down the path in his chair. Armande had given her his wallet and put on a translation app. It wasnt perfect, but the language AI still provided a fair approximation to Russian. With headphones, she could listen and know what was going on.
He only glanced at the man and then proceeded to gaze ahead, studying the other park visitors. He wasn't suspicious, not of Theiss, but others might have followed. In any case, it wasn't a habit he'd break now.
"I was heartened to hear you had survived,"
the man said in a still strong voice, though pitched low. "Fear has seized many. Especially after....."
Armande nodded. He understood. "Our enemy is the Destroyer. He will not be killed so easily as we had thought. But our war is not done." He nodded to Valeriya. "This is Valeriya. She is an ally. She leads a small group that descended from the Atharim long ago. They are fierce and will strengthen our number."
In truth, that was the smallest thing the Khylsty would do. Valeriya herself, along the belongings they had safeguarded were the real treasure. She more than them, especially to him personally. But that was for him to know.
Theiss was silent for a while."As to that.....well, Rome has been silent since you disappeared. It is only recently that my digging has finally indicated why."
Again he paused, this time so long Armande was going to snap at him. "The revelation of our existence has placed the Church and the Holy Father himself in a difficult position. He cannot afford to turn his back on us completely, though I wouldn't be surprised at all if he wanted to. And he cannot afford to force Brandon to begin to take more direct control in Vatican affairs. As you know, the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church has long resented the apparant autonomy of his counterpart in Rome."
Armande knew all to well. It took regular intervention of Atharim Orthodox priests to keep the tension from doing more than slowly simmer. A sickening feeling filled his stomach. He had a feeling he knew where Theiss was going. The feeling was betrayal and it threatened to become anger quickly.
"The Pope has appointed a new Regus." he said quietly, glancing at Valeriya. Theiss nodded, unsurprised. Armande was silent, mulling. Curiously, though his anger leached away. He remembered the idol of the Regus. His sin. He was Armande. Regus was just a position.
The man was reality. He smiled tightly, feeling a perverse sort of pleasure. He was not angry, no. He was motivated. More than that, excited. To do what he needed he still had to be Regus. But.....The Holy Father and the new "Regus" would learn.
His voice was deadly, quiet steel being drawn. "If they thought I was intimidating as the Regus, the Holy Father and his new puppet will soon learn the Khylsty Armande is terrifying."
Edited by Regus, Jan 23 2018, 10:25 PM.