“If you need some time to process this,” Sauda said, “we can reschedule the remainder of today’s meeting.”
“No.” Winter squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes. I mean—I don’t know.”
“Quite a remarkable family,” Niall said.
“Your mother doesn’t know,” Sauda went on, her voice gentler now. “She still doesn’t. I am going to order you to keep it that way.”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Winter snapped. There wasno use being angry at Sauda, but he couldn’t help the fury roiling in his veins. How could he even fathom telling his mother something like this?
Sauda just looked coolly away and stood up. “Are you ready for the rest of the meeting, Mr. Young, or shall we postpone?”
“Sauda,” Niall said quietly.
“What?” She lifted her chin at the man. “Delay the inevitable?”
“The boy’s going to take a while to digest this.” Niall glanced at Winter. “Maybe we should give him some space.”
“No,” Winter blurted out, and all of them turned to look at him.
“No,” he repeated more firmly. “I don’t need time to myself, and I don’t need you togive me spaceto process anything. I need information. I need you to tell me everything. What did he do for you? Where did you send him?” His voice turned quiet, the weight on his heart buffeted by a current of anger. “How did he die?”
The smile that Sauda now gave him was sad, as if she had always known that his link to Artie would be their in, that somehow he was destined to be here. She sighed and stood up. “You want to know the truth?” She nodded toward the door.
“Yes,” Winter replied.
She opened the door and gave him a sidelong look. “Then follow us.”
Winter felt like he was walking through a dream. His body swayed slightly as he trailed after the others down the corridor until they reached a second elevator. Unlike the first, this one had doors made of clear glass. When they stepped inside, the doors hissed shut and text materialized over them like the screens in the office room.
Where to?
“Experimental Design,” Niall said.
The text vanished, and the elevator began moving down.
“Underground?” Winter asked.
“Just a little bit,” Sauda replied.
They traveled in silence for a minute before he finally said, “How little?”
“About two thousand feet.” Sauda nodded at him. “Ready for an official introduction to your new side hustle?”
Winter was still trying to figure out how to answer her when the dark shaft outside the elevator gave way to a floor that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Winter stared through the glass doors at a place that seemed impossible.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
The room was circular and at least several stories high, designed in a similar style to the luxurious, neoclassical hotel aboveground. Pillars decorated the space, and between them were massive stone archways, each of them leading down halls.
One of the arched halls was filled with parked commercial airliners, another with fighter jets. Yet another had rows of cars. Other archways had clear glass across them, the doorways occasionally sliding open and shut to allow workers dressed in cobalt blue jumpsuits and helmets to pass through. Each of the halls had its arched ceiling painted a distinct color.
Winter swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded hoarse. “Artie worked here?”
Niall nodded. “Stood almost exactly where you are right now, the first time he took this elevator down.”
It was as if Winter could feel the ghost of his brother here, taller and older and wiser, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on the scene before him. Did he gape like Winter did now? Did he take it all in stride? Did he make a joke?
