50

Nilay clears their throat, then says, "Isn't that, uh, a problem, ma'am?"

"An opportunity," Olivecrona says, rubbing the head of her Malinois. The animal does not react. "For too long I've tolerated all kinds of trash at this open feeding hole. Now the SI gives me the opportunity to get rid of the Anarchs, the hangers-on, the filth. We will take the data we've gathered here and use it to stake a claim at another holding facility. There are dozens to choose from. And the new one will be for the Camarilla alone."

She checks what Lettow wrote her again. "Yes, this confirms what I know, and what I've planned for. Nilay, a kill team from the Information Awareness Office at the Pentagon will be here in the morning. Your plans are waiting in your office. Read them now. Leave us."

Nilay gets out of there, leaving you with a very satisfied-looking Olivecrona. This is the sire you remember: always three steps ahead, always in control. She looks you up and down, then gestures for you to sit.

"So you're still here," she says. "If you are looking for more work, I could use you, my childe. I reward loyalty." Her eyes narrow, and her earrings glitter in the cheap artificial light. "I return loyalty. That's all we Kindred have, you know—our bonds with each other."

Technically you've finished your job here and should be able to walk right back to your car, but before you can say anything, your sire says, "I always treated you well, Krarr, and I bare no grudges even though you left me. In exchange for helping me with certain matters here, perhaps I could…teach you something new."

Her Malinois watches you with too-clever eyes.

This might be an opportunity to earn the Camarilla's respect, rather than their grudging cooperation. Or to screw them out of some assets, as the mood takes you.

She doesn't say anything, just glances toward the Malinois.

The beast is a famulus, a hellhound, whatever you want to call it—a ghoul-beast, like Prince Lettow's eagle, Riga. With Olivecrona's mentorship, you could command a beast of your own.

"And if that doesn't interest you," she says, "why are you here?"

[Disciplines Available from Elin Olivecrona: Animalism, Dominate, Fortitude, Presence.]

That's a good question, and one that might not deserve an honest answer. You consider what to say, immediately cognizant that trying to invoke your mental powers here would be a mistake; you know how much stronger Elin is than you.

"Are you getting sentimental now that I don't lead you around by the ear, Krarr?"

"I'm not sentimental, I'm sickened," you say.

"Well, get used to feeling that way, because eternity is long, Krarr, and you'll do worse things than drink prisoner blood before you're ash."

But she has to acknowledge the conviction in your voice. She leans back, scowling, then says, "It's not like I built this place! Mortals do this to themselves. We do what we always do—we skim off the top. I protect my people here, Krarr, even ones that couldn't survive anywhere else."

You've made an impression. You know Elin. She's a bigot and a jerk, but she's not a psychopath. Her situation is distasteful. Maybe if you had more time you could help her and the people here.

Next

Olivecrona's complacency is alarming but also strangely convincing. Has your sire's unnatural charisma subtly influenced your reaction?

No. Certainly not. You stand up, confident that you can rescue people before it's too late. The Malinois escorts you out, then freezes and finally reacts to something, snarling at the man in the door.

"You're a hard woman to find, Elin! I can't believe you made me leave my gamer chair."

You turn at the familiar voice. Julian Sim stands in the doorway.

Next

Your sire racks her brain for a moment, then says, "The…water boy?"

"Julian Sim," the Banu Haqim says. He's wearing a Junji Ito hoodie and a sly grin.

Elin waits a beat. You realize she's waiting for her retainers to swarm Julian, but they don't come. She reacts graciously to that revelation, gesturing for her dog to stand down.

"What do you want, boy?" she asks the Assamite.

"I want you to stop overestimating your chances," Julian says. He tosses a plastic folder full of photographs and documents on Elin's desk.

Her eyes widen as she sorts through them.

"The IAO kill team is going to smash you to paste and then light the paste on fire," Julian says. "You don't have time to pack everything in neat little boxes. Get out now."

"But my—"

"Yes, all your hard work, very sad. Run a tighter ship next time."

"How dare you, fledgling!" Elin snaps. The Malinois snarls.

"That's Dr. Fledgling to you, GS-10," Julian says.

"What's your degree in?"

"I don't know, lots of things. The point is, I am offering my services to expedite your evacuation."

"OCR scanners? Encryption?" Olivecrona asks.

"No."

"Then what?"

"I drove here in a van full of librarians from the University of Arizona."

Olivecrona's eyes dart from you to Julian and back to you. "Krarr, keep an eye on Sim while his librarians help me pack."

Next

The moment you're out of Olivecrona's earshot, in the fast-emptying main room of the red tent, Julian takes you by the elbow and says, "You're not trying some insane rescue plan, are you? Don't you get it, Krarr? This place doesn't exist because Cainites willed it into existence. It exists because this is what mortals do to each other. You can't fix it. You can only shape it. I'm here to shape what comes next."

You glance around. At least one of Olivecrona's retainers are watching Julian at all times, so Julian can't actually fight you if you defy him.