Sleeping Giants (Themis Files #1)(52)



There is a short, stocky, old man entering the restaurant. He appears to be in his sixties or early seventies. He is wearing a tan trench coat, about two sizes too small, and a brim hat. He…He has no eyebrows…I sincerely hope he is not the man I am waiting for…Unfortunately, he is now approaching my table with a large smile on his face.

—Hello, sir! I’m so happy to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.

—I seriously hope not, for your sake. Please be aware that this conversation is being recorded.

—I’m now perfectly aware. Thank you! Do you know who I am?

—I have absolutely no idea who you are, and I do not particularly care to find out. I want to hear what you know about me, who gave you that information, and what you intend to do with it.

—Oh…You’re upset because I mentioned your son on the phone. I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories. As I said, you have my deepest sympathies. I can’t tell you how I know what I know, but you can trust me when I say you have nothing to fear from me. Your secret is perfectly safe.

—Listen to me very carefully for I will only say this once. If you value your life in any way, you will not mention my son to me, or to anyone else, ever again. You will tell me exactly what you know, and if I am satisfied with your answer, you will be allowed to leave this place unharmed.

—That’s a bit rude, don’t you think? What’s the signal?

—What signal?

—The one for the sniper across the street?

—…

—It’s OK, you can show me. He’s sound asleep. By the way, get the man some food next time! Poor fellow would have had to watch us eat for an hour.

So…Let’s start this again, shall we? Would you care to guess who I am?

—I would not.

—Please! Take a guess!

—You are a retired clown who lost his eyebrows in a tragic fire-juggling accident.

—OK. No guessing then. You can call me Mr. Burns.

—That is a horrible alias.

—It’s my last name, thank you very much.

—What do you want?

—I’m here because we have a friend in common. You should try the Kung Pao chicken.

—Thank you, I am still looking at the menu. And who might that friend be?

—I don’t believe you know her name. But she’s a very special friend. Someone who had a very, very large place in your heart. Someone whom I understand you recently lost touch with.

—…I am listening.

—Ah! Finally! Now that I have your attention, it’s your turn to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say…

Put the menu down and get the Kung Pao chicken. The Indonesian rice is also very good, but you have to try the chicken.

—I should warn you that I have little or no sense of humor, and very little patience.

—Don’t be modest! You have a great sense of humor! You’re a little phlegmatic, I agree, but it’s there…I see it. OK, you look like you get grumpy when you’re hungry so I’ll just move right along.

Do you like stories? I hope you do. I’m going to tell you a story that I was told as a child. It has a bit of everything: love, war, betrayal. I’m sure you’ll like it.

A very long time ago, there was a vast empire. I mean vast—it literally spanned thousands of colonies. It was ruled by extremely powerful people. They believed that each colony should evolve at its own pace and be free to rule itself. They would intervene as little as they could, only to preserve life or defend the interests of the empire. They were a very wise people, a race of artists and engineers that had an unmatched understanding of the makeup of the universe. They were able to build just about anything, to manipulate matter, and harness energy in ways that no one else could.

One of the colonies was ruled by a warrior race. What they lacked in sophistication and intelligence, they made up for with strength and grit. Their king, a legendary warrior, ruled over millions. Having mined most of the ore in his own land, he tried to conquer a neighboring people to exploit their natural resources. The empire sent several ships to intervene. The warrior king was captured, tried, and sentenced to a life of imprisonment.

Over time he was allowed to leave his gaol, and eventually he was permitted to live freely in the empire’s metropolis, but he could never return home to his people. In the capital, he worked as a…there is no word for it—personal trainer is the closest thing I can think of, but that sounds silly. Anyway, this is how he met—Can you guess? Can you guess? A princess! The daughter of the Emperor himself.

He trained the princess for a few hours every day. Of course, it didn’t take them long to fall for each other. They kept their relationship a secret for a while, but when the princess reached the age of marriage, she introduced the warrior king to her father. Let’s just say that he did not approve. The fallen king was sent back to prison.

The princess was forbidden to see him but—you know, teenagers—she did. She did a lot more than that, actually. One night, she set a fire to lure the guards away and helped her lover escape. The warrior king wanted to run away, but the princess was stubborn as a mule and didn’t want to leave her whole life and family behind. So instead of doing the sensible thing, she brought her lover to the palace to confront her father. Seems hard to imagine that he went along with that, but, like I said, his people were not known for their intelligence. And let’s face it: We all do stupid things when it comes to women.

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