Page 82

“Who would go on to kill millions,” I say.

“Still important. Like the guy Noemi and Caleb killed—”

“The guy who ran into them while driving drunk?” I say.

He waves off the distinction. “He was going to create a fuel source that would slow climate change.” He pauses. “Of course, it also started an epidemic of brain damage in a generation of babies but…” He shrugs. “You can’t win them all.”

“Tell me he’s joking,” I say to Maggie. “About saving people who do terrible things.”

“Hey,” the bartender says. “Ravi didn’t mean to do a terrible thing. Sure, he cut a few corners, faked some research data, but doesn’t everyone? Oh! And that girl you killed, Raymond. She was going to do great things. Just like Dr. Dabrowski.”

“I didn’t kill any girl—” Raymond says.

“Pardon my word choice. English isn’t my first language. My forty-eighth, actually, but who’s counting? The young woman you killed. She was twenty-two, which means she’s not a girl.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Raymond grits out.

“The young woman you got killed. Is that better? I mean, normally, I don’t agree with putting things in the passive tense. It’s dodging responsibility. But fine. You got a young woman killed.”

The bartender turns to us. “Now you others are perfectly decent cogs. Henry likes being a paramedic, even if it’s a shit job, because he likes helping. Noemi wanted to go find Edgar. Caleb ran out to save the guy who almost killed his girlfriend. Ellie bends over backwards to help anyone who needs it. Edgar was a perfectly decent man, never hurt anyone. None of you—”

He turns to Maggie and raises his voice. “None of you are actually responsible for the deaths of the important people who died. There, I admitted it.”

Maggie only grunts.

“However, this guy…” He makes a show of pointedly staring at Raymond.

“I didn’t do anything—” Raymond begins.

“Except make someone try to kill you?” He looks at us. “So Ray had this girl—young woman—interning with him. Part of her job was opening his mail. Six months ago, one of those packages contained anthrax. She died.”

“Because of some crazy person,” Raymond says. “I didn’t have her opening my packages because I thought someone was trying to kill me.”

“Mmm, but it was a sure bet that at some point, someone would try.” The bartender looks back at us. “Raymond here deals in investments. The high-risk kind that only make one sort of person rich—the already-rich people behind them. He sells dreams to desperate suckers.” He purses his lips. “That’s a direct quote, isn’t it? Desperate suckers.”

Raymond goes bright red and starts to stammer. Then he says, “I’m a legitimate businessman.”

“According to the securities investigators you paid off.” The bartender lifts a hand against his protest. “I withdraw the comment, Your Honor. As for that young woman—Bina—she had already realized what a greedy shit bag you are, Raymond, and had she lived, she’d have devoted her career to putting guys like you out of business, which was going to lead to significant economic change and—well, you all get the picture.”

I turn to Maggie. “Your job was to kill us, and you didn’t. Is that why you died?”

“She’s not dead,” the bartender says. “Not really. It’s a technicality. She died, but she accepted an offer to come back. To enjoy immortality in return for clearing the way for important people like Dr. Dabrowski. Not a fetch, as you guessed. Not a reaper. Just an immortal human with special abilities. Like the power to make a car hit a little girl. Or make a construction worker fall off a high-rise. Those like me look at the future and see obstacles to the lives of important people, and those like Maggie remove those obstacles.”

“That’s not—” Maggie cuts herself short and then clenches her glass. “You sold me a lie, just like Mr. Shady Investments over here. You said I’d be protecting important people. Killing those who got in their way. I thought…” She swallows.

When she goes quiet, I say, “You thought everyone you protected would go on to do good important things. And that everyone you killed would deserve it. Like taking out the shooter, not killing a little girl.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t read the fine print,” the bartender says. “Didn’t ask enough questions. Isn’t that what you always say, Ray? It’s not your fault people are greedy and stupid. Maggie here wanted immortality, and she didn’t look too closely at the price tag.”

Noemi says, “Okay, so I understand why she wouldn’t kill a little girl to save a scientist. Or a guy like Henry—husband, father, genuinely helps people—to save a man who’d be responsible for the deaths of millions. Or me and Caleb—a couple of students—to save a guy who’d also cause suffering but…” Her gaze swings to Raymond.

“Hey!” he says, glowering at her. “I’m still a person. I do good things. Ask Bryce. I’m just not a saint. And who knows what Bina would have gone on to do. This guy is just making shit up.”

“See, that’s the problem,” the bartender says. “When Maggie allowed Ellie to live, we let it slide. Oh, Ellie would have ended up here eventually, but we were willing to give her some time. Same with you and Caleb and Henry. Then came the old man. He had a meeting with a student who died on the way there. A student who would have gone on to … Well, it doesn’t matter. The point is all she had to do was kill Edgar and there’d be no meeting and the kid would have lived. The old guy was nearly eighty at the time anyway. Almost dead anyway, right? The nail in the coffin, though, was Raymond.” He looks at Maggie. “You just gave up, didn’t you? Stopped even trying to decide who to save and who to kill.”

“I decided it wasn’t my place,” she mutters without looking.