Swarm and Steel by Michael R. Fletcher

Author:Michael R. Fletcher
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Talos
Published: 2017-08-07T04:00:00+00:00

LEGS CROSSED, SPINE STRAIGHT, the very image of demur decorum, Pharisäer sat before the Senior Accounts Officer. The old banker looked like she’d eaten something so sour it sucked the front of her face half-way through to the back of her skull. Even here, deep within the bowels of the Verzweiflung Banking Conglomerate’s Geld branch, the woman’s huge black geldwechsler remained teetering atop her wizened skull. The stupid bankers clearly feared comfort.

What they apparently didn’t fear was an ostentatious display of wealth. The interior of the building was finished in white marble veined in arterial red. Every railing was polished brass, unsullied by even a single fingerprint. High above, colossal candelabrum held countless thousands of candles. Those chandeliers, thirty feet or more over Pharisäer’s head, were wrought in lustrous gold.

Fantastic wealth, beyond reach. No doubt the message was no accident. Glancing about, she saw no means of reaching those candles. Yet all remained lit.

Pharisäer returned her attention to the banker hunched behind an ornate desk carved of green and black granite no doubt imported from the Gezackt mountains on the far side of the world. She eyed the woman’s hat. One little touch and I can knock that silly thing off the old hag. Pharisäer kept her face emotionless. In a few minutes she would be one of the wealthiest women in all Geld, and to be the wealthiest in Geld meant to be the wealthiest in all the world.

Zahlen, the Täuschung accountant, had informed Pharisäer that he’d sold several properties. The funds from those deals had of course been deposited in the church’s Verzweiflung accounts. The Conglomerate had its fingers in every major transaction. Once Pharisäer transferred the money into her own accounts, Hölle would be shattered by the loss.

I’ll tell her the bank foreclosed on the properties. Pharisäer couldn’t wait to see Hölle’s face when she heard the news. She’d crawl back into bed and cry, never thinking to leave her room and ascertain the truth for herself. One more support pillar kicked out from under what remained of the woman’s crumbling sanity.

Pharisäer felt good. She felt strong. Alive.

The Senior Accounts Officer made a show of examining Pharisäer, gaze lingering on the black leather sheathing her legs and ass. Zerfall might have been a crazy bitch, but she had great taste in clothes. Pharisäer had barely been able to squeeze into the pants.

“How can I help you?” asked the banker, looking anything but helpful. “If you wish to open an account—”

“I have an account.”

She didn’t look pleased at the interruption, taking another moment to consider Pharisäer with dark eyes sunk deep in wrinkles. “You are quite mistaken—”

“I am Zerf—”

The banker stopped her with a raised hand. “I am entirely aware of who you are,” she said. “And I am entirely aware of what you are.”

What I am. Pharisäer’s chest tightened. She wanted to crawl under this desk and hide away from those hard and knowing eyes. “I am the head of the Täuschung. I am Zerfall—”

“You are not.”

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