PART THREE:.

UNICORN HUNT.

Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.

-Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep.

48.

DONNER.

A fortress in New Jersey.

Well, I came back from the big one, so what did I know?

I turned and caught Max actually rubbing his eyes, sure he was viewing a mirage. I knew how he felt. It was a scene out of the Arabian Nights: the vast, cracked plain sweeping away from us, rising in the distance into a hillock on which rested the castle.

No, not a castle. A castle-city, with the keep forming the highest point, overlooking everything. Ancient. And so out of place that every time you looked away and then swung your eyes back to it, you expected it to be gone. But there it was, as real as- As real as it gets, baby.

"You gonna explain this to us?" I asked the Lifetaker. Its reply was to continue forward across the dead ground. Max and Maggie pulled close. "What did he call it?" I asked.

"Arg-e Bam. Which is impossible," she said.

"Why?"

"Arg-e Bam was an ancient Persian citadel," said Maggie.

"Persian?" said Max. "As in Middle East?"

"Pre-Islamic Iran," said Maggie. "Supposed to have been built before 500 BC."

"What's it doing here?" asked Max.

"This has to be a re-creation. The real Arg-e Bam was destroyed by an earthquake in 2003. Before its destruction it was the largest adobe structure in the world."

"Adobe?" said Max. "You mean clay?" He blinked at it again. "It's miles in diameter! You can't build a whole city out of clay... can you?"

Maggie narrowed her eyes in a way that told me a lecture was coming. "Anglo-centric Americans! Iranian architecture and urban planning go back ten thousand years. They were among the first to use mathematics, geometry and astronomy. In the Middle Ages, while your European forefathers were scratching in the mud with sticks, Persian empires had libraries and universities. Persian doctors performed brain surgery. They rediscovered the great works of the Greeks and Romans long before you had your Renaissance."

"Okay," I said. "We're arrogant bastards. That doesn't explain why a destroyed Iranian castle-"

"Citadel," said Maggie.

"-citadel is sitting where the Meadowlands used to be."

The Lifetaker shimmered in scorn. "Your questions will be answered in-"

"In time. Yeah, I got that the first time. Okay, I'll shut up and enjoy the scenery."

It took two more hours of walking to reach the base of the complex. Irrigation ditches ran past groves of evergreen palm and citrus trees.

"I thought nothing could grow out here," I said to Maggie.

"Nothing's supposed to. The ground was salted with an enzyme that suppresses organic growth. It's to keep anyone from living here if they somehow escape Necropolis. When the Blister's finished and reborn containment is 100%, they'll neutralize the enzyme and resettle the area."

"So what are date trees doing here?"

"You got me."

"Curiouser and curiouser," muttered Max, sounding disgusted. I knew how he felt. These bizarre sights filled me not with wonder but leaden resentment. Someone was playing a vast, arrogant game. I doubted the purpose was to make us squeal in childish delight.

We crossed over an empty moat. The entrance to Arg-e Bam was a narrow gatehouse at the top of an incline. We were panting by the time we reached its summit. As we stopped to catch our breath, we looked back. I still couldn't quite accept the miles of emptiness stretching away to the corpses of Jersey towns and industrial plants. Further still was the Blister. From here, it looked like a table of snow globes someone had taken a flamethrower to.

"Not much farther," said the Lifetaker.

"Thank God," whispered Max. "I'm out of gas."

I craned back to look at the walls in front of me. They had to be thirty feet high and were crenellated at the tops. The structure was rectangular, but unlike a European castle, its corners were rounded. Even the battlements were rounded, with notches rising like little half-moons from the tops. Watch towers rose from each corner. Near their tops were holes for sentry watch or weapons fire.

We passed through an octagonal gatehouse into the main complex. As I passed, I noticed that the walls were five feet thick. Adobe nor not, it would take artillery to pierce that depth.

We stood in a vast bazaar. Twisting lanes ran off from the central space, with shops on each side. The buildings were brick and clay mortar. "This place is huge," I said.

The Lifetaker surprised me by speaking. "Two million square feet. It was a completely self-contained community-over 400 houses, from small hovels to mansions. Schools, shops, public baths, a gymnasium, a mosque, wells, gardens, cattle and sheep stalls. If the ruler was under siege, the gates could be closed and the inhabitants could live through a very lengthy isolation while they were defended by the sixty towers above." I guess even a Lifetaker could be proud of his home.

We twisted up a roofed lane. Our footfalls on the stone rang hollow and mocking. No one anywhere. Deserted. Our corridor exited into a columned plaza. At the far end, a building with arched windows sat hunkered down. It was topped with domes of ornamental masonry.

"The caravansary," said the Lifetaker. "An inn where caravans, traveling the Silk Road, could stable their animals."

"It's breathtaking," said Maggie.

The Lifetaker again gestured us forward. Halfway across the courtyard we were accosted by a delightfully cool breath of wind. It ruffled our clothing. "Oh, that's nice," sighed Maggie, lifting her hair off the back of her neck.

"It is the badgir."

"The whosit?"

"Special towers designed to catch the wind. The air passes over troughs of water to cool it and then funneled down into the inner buildings."

"Three thousand year-old air conditioning," mused Max.

The Lifetaker led us into the inn. The "lobby" area was filled with low couches and enormous silk pillows on the floor. Compared to the sand-colored outer areas, this room was an explosion of color: rich maroons, blues, aquamarine and yellows.

A corridor led us to two adjoining bedrooms. The rooms were divided by a beaded curtain and furnished with simple wooden pieces. The table held a water pitcher and a bowl of figs, dates and nuts.

"Refresh yourselves," said the Lifetaker. "There is a bathroom with modern plumbing down the hall. I will return at seven o'clock, when you will meet the Master of Arg-e Bam."

I gave him a pained look. "Please tell me we're not having dinner with Dracula."

"There is nothing supernatural about this place or its occupant, I assure you."

"Yeah, silly me," I said. "Besides, vampires are so Eastern Europe. This place is more suited to, what... ?" I looked pointedly at the Lifetaker's form. "Genies?"

"Donner..." said Maggie.

The Lifetaker cocked its head. "I have been called many things. Perhaps a djinn is most appropriate." With that, it flowed out the door and down the hall.

"Keep riding him," said Max. "He may just decide to ice you."

"He isn't allowed."

"Yet," said Max.

I blinked. "Good point."

"I'm taking the other room," he said. "You two have fun. But don't be loud. I plan to have a nice scrub, a couple pieces of fruit, and a nap."

"Don't be loud?" Maggie said. "What did he think we were going to do?"

I stared out the window. With their ornamental blue windows and geometric designs, the stables and barracks were the most elegant I'd ever seen. Had the main structure been the stable or the barracks? Who'd gotten the best housing? His men or his horses?

I grabbed the sill suddenly. Dizzy.

"You're dehydrated," said Maggie, rushing over with a cup of water. "Drink this."

"Just tired." It was the sweetest water I'd ever tasted.

"Exhausted," she corrected. "Fighting a battle and then walking over twenty miles... I can't believe you're still on your feet."

Maggie refilled my cup and I gulped it. Some splashed onto my hand. I looked at my wet fingers.

Maggie soaked a hand towel in the water. She tried to lay it over my face to cool me.

Water, water over my head...

"No!" I said, snatching the towel from my face.

Her hand on the Velcro straps of my life vest.

But that didn't really happen.

How long did you think I was going to wait for you to get your shit together?

"Donner? Hey, shamus."

I felt her hand on my arm. "What's wrong?" she said.

"What isn't wrong?"

"Donner."

I didn't answer until I had forced three deep breaths into me. "It's nothing. A nightmare I had about my wife."

Maggie sat on the edge of the bed. "What was she like?"

"Smart, beautiful, accomplished. And tough. To be a prosecutor in New York, you have to be."

"Sounds hard."

"We met about when I got my detective's shield. I was the hot young Turk on the force, you know. An up-and-comer."

She grinned. "I'd have loved to have seen you back then."

"One of the best records in the Division. They were grooming me for division head."

"Elise must've been proud."

My face started to get hot. "Oh, yeah, she..."

I realized I was clenching Maggie's hand. I dropped it.

"What?"

"All I cared about was putting bad guys behind bars. I sometimes did... unpopular things, wouldn't let go of things..."

"She didn't approve?" Maggie was silent. Waiting.

I looked at the ceiling. "Ever see that movie, A Star Is Born? That's what happened with us. When I met Elise, she was talented but insecure. I encouraged her to dream, backed her up, helped her see that she could believe in herself, to see what she could achieve. And she did it. But somehow, along the way, things... flipped. I was the one who needed support, I was getting more depressed, drinking more, blowing it, and she was rising higher..."

"Passing you by?"

"It's one of the most awful feelings in the world. She was patient for a long time. I thought she owed me for all the support I'd given her. Her point of view was more... practical."

"The nightmare, Donner?"

"Yeah?"