The Corner

[Marcus DuBois]

The man's manner seemed to shift between needling and easy going. It was the same thing as with the business card. It was all about the balance. Push, prod, provoke- then step back and wait. Watch. He wanted people off guard, to push them to react.

A ghost of a smile passed Marcus' lips. Quite a number of his fosters or house-sibs enjoyed the same thing, though with them the intent was less entertainment and more something darker. That need to feed off of fear, the desperate hunger of one looking to fill the gaping hole inside themselves. It amounted to the same thing, though, at least in how you responded. All the more so, given his goals now.

He laughed good-naturedly. "I wouldn't need much make up."
He smiled self-deprecatingly, striking a pose with his chin, obviously exaggerating for effect. "I wouldn't want to deprive anyone of my rugged good looks."


He allowed his face to grow more serious. "Still, I think that 'training' sounds like fun. There is something to be said about a good fight."
More than something, in truth. Malik was pleased, at least momentarily. It wasn't a proper hunt. But it could do, at least for the moment.

Still, the subject at hand was Marveet. At White's words, Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Oh ho? Twice? Hmm."
An idea occurred to him. A foolish and risky one. Still, what were the heights if not to exercise a little power? People were always useful, especially if they themselves were off-balance- Especially if they had suffered no small embarressment.

His eye flicked to the side for a moment, affecting to make sure that they were alone. Of course, he knew they were. His Force-enhance senses would have alerted him had anyone gotten close. Though....come to think of it, that didn't mean that people couldn't use eavesdropping technologies on him. Laser microphones were cheap. There were countermeasures one could wear, of course. But the Force presented an interesting potential. A curious problem, it intrigued him. It should be possible to construct a barrier to prevent that from happening. The physics of the device were childishly simple, though the application was much less so. He almost tried at that moment, but no. Now was not the time for experimentation. It wouldn't be enough to create a vacuum dome around them. It would be a bit more involved. And what he said wasn't going to be anything less than oblique anyway, so there was no danger at the moment.

"Perhaps we might help each other. Being mannerly is such an important lesson to learn."
The ghost of a smile returned to his lips.

[Hood]

Another bark of laughter, and Hood waggled a finger vaguely in Marcus' direction, "A man not afraid to get his hands dirty. A pleasant surprise for one so deeply embedded in the political circle."



Another chuckle, more predatory. The notion of having someone as highly placed as Marcus DuBois interested in taking Marveet down a few rungs was entirely too enticing to pass up. But, such topics of conversation weren't exactly well suited to public parks, even for a meeting as legitimately random as theirs was. He entertained no suspicions of DuBois being a secret ally of Marveet. From what he could read of Marcus, the American and the Russian would have entirely zero common ground to stand on.

"Perhaps we might indeed. I'm sure, should you be interested in engaging Pervaya Iiniya Securities, my employers would see fit to make the necessary arrangements."
And, of course, Hood was one of their top hand-to-hand experts after all, and technically a licensed instructor. Which would allow them ample opportunity to compare notes.

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus nodded slightly. It was as much as could be done at the moment. White no doubt had all kinds of interesting information on people- not just Marveet. Marcus had already sussed out all manner of secrets- clandestine relationships; sticky fingers; feigned animosity that hid alliances. And so many more. Little things, useful things.

It wouldn't do to let it be known he knew things. But knowing a person's levers, the strings, the connections that could be delicately plucked, gave him more influence than anyone would realize.

And in the meantime, he did like the idea of engaging White's service. Both as a means to an end with Marveet, as well as for personal growth. Malik was itching for a fight. The thing the man fought. Well, it wouldn't be a proper hunt, of course. There would be no sense of justice in killing that, of bringing order to the world, not in the way he liked. But it was another kind of order.

After leaving the man's company, he went back to his rooms. It was late and the walk had been good. He was tired, mostly in his mind. It had been an eventful day. He pulled the bearing from his pocket. It was warm now.

Yes a very good day.

---

The next day was a normal one. At the Consulate of Propaganda work on the cultural reshaping of DV continued. It was still in its infant stages, of course. This would be decades in the making. Elouera had returned and she reported on the initial studies for the youth marketing. Anatoly had been there as well. After, they began planning the broadstroke vectors their infiltration would need to take to begin the titanic shift in culture away from the extreme Whahabist School (which had birthed Al'Queda, ISIS, and Hasan's rebellion) to that of the Islamic Golden Age of the 8th to the 13th century.

The Abbasid Caliphate was noted for its tolerance of multiple faiths, its provision of hospitals and education, the flourishing of art and literature and music, and (of course his favorite) the rebirth of Greek and Roman mathematics and science in the now fertile soil of Arabic culture. It was through this channel that these 'children' would one day return to Europe, but now richly dressed and grown in a thousand new paths. Advances in medicine and engineering, words like algebra, algorithm, zenith, and zero- so necessary for science and the modern world to exist- and the hindu-arabic numbering system that replaced the cumbersome roman numerals all made their way into European culture (and thus the world.)

It was upon this Golden Age that they would structure the DV on. No longer would people look back on bloody and vicious savages living in squalor, vainly suiciding themselves in a pathetic attempt to remain relevant. There's would be the culture of kings.

It was a good and productive day....until the Ascendancy appeared on the monitors. And the world changed. What had been their secret, their protection, their advantage, was now known to the world. Clearly it was a calculated move on his part. He had not heard any whisperings of it, of course, but Ascendancy might very well have discussed this with his aides, including Bykov himself, to plan for all the potential ramifications. Or perhaps not.

The work stopped, though, as people began to discuss among themselves what all of this meant. More than a few were shocked to discover that Ascendancy was a god himself. There were a few, here and there, who's shock seemed faked or over-reactions- as if hiding something. Marcus himself said little. The announcement itself was monumental. Would he register? At this point, unless the Ascendancy specifically told him too, he would not. He had no interest in exposing himself.

But the Ascendancy had spoken of a secret group- Atharim- who hunted them. This was what truly interested him. It touched at something familiar. He couldn't place it, not yet, but he would. He would not ignore a group that targeted him. They were now in his sights.

The day was nearing its end when he received a text from the Ascendancy. He pondered it. It wasn't an accident that it happened now. He wasn't sure if Vellas would be there. The man seemed to have disappeared for some time now, from what his unknowing eyes and ears said. In any case, it was not a summons he would refuse even if he could.

Things had changed. But some things had not. He was here for a reason.