Necessary Evil (Milkweed Triptych) by Ian Tregillis Page A

disassembled and reassembled by the Eidolons more than once. Who had spoken to the Eidolons directly when they took the guise of my son.
    “You’re still angry,” she said. “You hate the thought of working with me.” She patted my leg again. “Aren’t we the strangest of bedfellows?”
    Again I flinched away from her feverish touch. “If this is to work, it has to happen in two parts, simultaneously. I can handle things here with the Eidolons and their … brokers.” Now it was my turn to speak in circles around Klaus. “But I won’t move against them unless it’s safe to do so. I’d rather let the Eidolons take it all than condemn my daughter to growing up in the Thousand-Year Reich.”
    I watched her eyes, those dark windows upon her malignant soul. She understood: I wouldn’t sever humanity’s link with the Eidolons if it meant leaving Britain defenseless against the REGP. Which brought me back to my question.
    “Do you understand your part in this?”
    That earned another sigh. “Yes,” she said with exaggerated care. “I’ll help him.”
    “I’m going to warn him about you.”
    Gretel said, “By all means. But don’t spend too long at it. We do have a boat to catch.”
    A car turned the corner. Glare from its slitted headlights briefly washed low against us. We hunkered down into the seats of our stolen car until it passed.
    “Thing is, I can’t help but wonder what happens later.” I nodded at her battery. “After this is over. Assuming we’re successful.” She smirked at that. “What do you get out of this?”
    “Oh, Raybould. You already know that. You were there. You saved me from the Eidolons.”
    “No. That was the ‘other’ you, wasn’t it? To use your own words. But what did her sacrifice buy you?”
    “Freedom. A new time line. The only time line that doesn’t end with the Eidolons.”
    She was careful in front of Klaus, but I filled in the rest: The only time line where Gretel doesn’t end with the Eidolons. And to hell with everybody else.
    “Oh, I’ve no doubt that’s part of it. I know how badly they terrify you.” I held up my arm, tugged down the sleeve of my uniform. The moon shone on a faint trio of crescent-shaped scars in my forearm. “But that alone is too simple. It’s never enough for you simply to break even. Your schemes always put you ahead. So I have to wonder. What do you want now?”
    The corner of Gretel’s mouth curled into the half smile that I had come to loathe. “I have the same wants and needs as any woman. You don’t believe that yet, but you will.”
    She was right. I didn’t.
    I waited in the silent darkness for my doppelgänger to arrive.

 
    five
    13–14 May 1940
    Walworth, London, England
    Marsh leaned against the front door, too tired to do anything but throw his weight against it. It flew open. He leapt to catch it before the slam woke Agnes. He bumped the telephone table, sloshing the contents of the water bowl across the floor.
    “Damn it.”
    He tossed his fedora on the banister finial, took the blanket beside the bowl, and tried to mop up the mess. The blanket wasn’t very absorbent. It only succeeded in pushing the water about. But the thought of going into the kitchen for a proper towel left him feeling weary. The chase and its aftermath had taken all his reserves, mental and physical.
    Liv shuffled in from the kitchen. She was in her dressing gown, the lavender one, and carrying a cup. She sipped at her tea, watching his ineffectual attempts to corral the water.
    “You realize I placed that there knowing it would provide a bit of comedy,” she said. “Gas attacks were just my excuse.”
    He mumbled, “Sorry, Liv. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “I wasn’t sleeping, you mad fool. Here, leave that. It’s just water.” She took his hand, pulled him up. “You look knackered.”
    “Long day,” said Marsh, shaking his head. He kept scouring his memories for everything the girl had ever said to him, trying to piece