The Miranda Contract by Ben Langdon

impassive face.
    “But what of the heroes?” Galkin asked the roof, hands spreading in question. “What of the Celestial Knights?” He turned back to the group with a look of mock horror on his face.
    “Distracted,” Grandfather Time said, ignoring Galkin’s melodramatic pose. “And the local derivatives scattered to the winds, at least in a temporary capacity. Certainly long enough for this move you hope to make. But tell me, Russian. Why the American girl?”
    Miranda Brody’s face appeared on the central screen and the Russian smiled, impressed with his own ability to manipulate the images through the smallest thought. Silent video clips of her concerts flashed across other screens, but the central one remained static, her young face half-smiling for the camera. She was a little older than Danya, but a good match, he thought.
    “Why this girl?” he echoed the question. “This girl is the big thing, my friend, the sensation. All the world has eyes for her and soon for my grandson. Once this thing is done, once he has come back to me, there will be no return to … to the flipping burgers, to the shame he brings me. The world will watch and the world will be fearful.”
    “It makes no difference to me,” Sima said. “You could have your boy kill a politician or a business CEO, it doesn’t matter. You’ll get him back, one way or another.”
    She touched his shoulder and he smiled at her, bowing his head in gratitude.
    “Which leaves us with but one more element,” Galkin said, turning to look back at the others. “No protection, no hope of escape, but there needs to be the match. Fire to bring about change.”
    Sima smiled.
    “And that’s where I come in, isn’t it?” she asked. “After all this time, all you needed was an assassin. A part of me is insulted.”
    “Never,” Galkin mocked.
    “It’s possible. Although you do know me better than most. I’ll do this thing for you, for all the times we’ve had together in the past. But there must be a line.”
    Galkin nodded. There was always a line but most of the time no one acknowledged it. The storm outside, threatening but not breaking: it was the warning that things would never be the same again.
    An age was coming to pass.
    “After tomorrow, you will not hear from me again,” Sima said. “None of you.”
    She looked at Grim, his head down, cheeks twitching. Pearl was shadowed by old age and death too. It was so clear to them all.
    “Our time has passed,” she continued. “There is a new world here and if you won’t embrace it you will be crushed by it.”
    “We have not been blind Seraphima,” Pearl said. “Contingency plans have been put in place, for years.”
    “And yet the old man has been gone for years . Perhaps he missed the memo.”
    “It matters not,” Galkin said. “You each have empires to run or ruin, and I have my grandson. For that I thank you, but now you leave.”
    He stood in the center of the room, flanked by the constant hum of monitors surveying the city above him. Pearl and her nephew left first, without farewell; followed by the shambling Grim. Grandfather Time simply vanished, disappearing in between the blinks of an eye.
    Sima alone remained.
    “You have pretty speech,” Galkin said, half in question.
    “A warning, perhaps.”
    “Go on,” he said.
    She closed the door to the secret room, cutting herself off from those who left before. Galkin could ‘see’ her in ripples of electricity. She always burned brighter than regular humans, perhaps due to her symbiotic nature, her essence held in place with borrowed skins.
    “It is about the wolf.”
    “Ah,” Galkin said, and there was sadness there.

Chapter 11
    Miranda
    T he island resort was awash with light, pushing out towards the ocean which shimmered and then fell to black. Waves rolled up the white beach as Miranda stepped off the boat. Her bare toes sank into the cool sand and she marveled at the warm water around her ankles.
    “Just a few