Before the Devil Breaks You by Libba Bray
As the car curved down the long driveway, Evie glanced back at the turreted estate. Jericho was still standing there with the sun glinting off his shoulders until it seemed that he was the sun itself.
NO REAL HARM
Jericho found Marlowe in his pristine study. “How was your visit with your friends?” Marlowe asked.
“Evie will probably never want anything to do with me again after what happened yesterday.”
“No real harm came to her,” Marlowe scoffed.
Jericho reeled. “No real harm? I attacked her!” Jericho wanted to punch Marlowe. “What’s in that serum you gave me? I want to know. I deserve to know.”
“I told you, vitamins.”
“What else?”
“It’s a highly calibrated secret formula patented by Marlowe Industries.”
“What else?” Jericho demanded.
Jake Marlowe’s eyes went flinty. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, for the hundredth time—yes!”
“Diviners’ blood.”
The room went sideways. Jericho thought back to Will’s letters to Cornelius. Samples. All those samples. “You said you don’t believe in Diviners,” Jericho said. It was all he could think of in the moment. His mind simply wouldn’t work.
“Not their mumbo jumbo, no. But I can’t deny that the energy they produce is of enormous value. They are extraordinary in their way. Connected to that other world, you see. The trouble is…” Marlowe looked pained. “Frankly, some of these Diviners are of less noble stock.”
“How do you mean?”
“Coloreds. Jews. Catholics. Degenerates. They’re not real Americans.”
Jericho couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The minute he let his guard down with Marlowe and started to feel sympathy for him, the real Jake Marlowe came bubbling up like tainted water from a rusted fountain.
“But I’ve figured out a way around that, see. I take their blood, strip out what I need, and irradiate the formula to purify it.”
“You’re putting irradiated formula inside me?”
Marlowe chuckled. “Jericho, radiation is the safest thing in the world. Why, it’s good for you! Makes the blood strong! I drink Marlowe Industries radium water, myself.”
For weeks, Jericho had been operating at peak performance. He’d reveled in it. But now he could scarcely think. “What happens to the Diviners? How do you find them?”
“Now, see here, it’s all on the up and up,” Marlowe said, sounding like an exasperated parent. “These Diviners are volunteers who sign up through Fitter Families for Future Firesides at state fairs and whatnot.”
“And do you explain to them what you’re doing?”
“All research is protected. You know that. They volunteer because they want to do what’s right for their country!”
“Like that woman I saw? Anna Provenza?”
Marlowe’s expression darkened. “Anna is different.”
“She’s not a mental patient, is she?”
“She’s an anarchist. She had a choice—go to prison and see her family deported or come here as a volunteer and contribute something meaningful to the future of the country. I’d say that’s a pretty fair trade. More than fair, in fact.”
“Her family’s been deported anyway.”
Marlowe looked surprised but recovered. “I had nothing to do with that.”
Jericho felt as if he had been thrown into the deprivation tank, all his edges blurring again. “What happened to her?” he demanded.
“Anna? She’s perfectly safe.”
“Let me see her.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. By order of the United States government. She is still a criminal.”
Some terrible realization was fighting to take shape in Jericho’s enhanced mind. “You need them,” he said as the thought occurred. “You need them to keep that door open, don’t you? Because they’re connected to that world!”
Marlowe’s expression told the truth of it.
“Now, Jericho, don’t be hasty—”
“I’ll find her, then.” Jericho pushed away from the table.
Marlowe leaped to his feet, following. “Jericho! Where are you going? Jericho! Come back here!”
Jericho stormed toward the library, only to see the men in suits coming toward him with a syringe. “Now, Mr. Jones. You don’t wanna do this.”
“Don’t hurt him!” Marlowe shouted. “I need him.”
The men darted forward, and Jericho took off at a clip for the forest.
You can’t catch me, he thought. I am faster and stronger and bulletproof. You made me that way, you bastard. He’d never run so fast in his life. The trees flew by like painted splotches. When he’d reached the charred clearing, he stopped. Had they followed? They would. He should go now. Run for the train station. No. They’d be watching the train stations. Anna Provenza was still trapped somewhere inside Marlowe’s estate. Jericho had to go back for her. The two of them could leave together. But how would he find her? The estate was enormous and he had no idea where they’d kept her. And the minute Jericho stepped foot inside the mansion, those Shadow Men would have him down in the lab for more of Marlowe’s experiments.
From where he stood, Jericho could see the castle-like roofline of Hopeful Harbor. Such a pretentious architectural detail, and so like Marlowe, fancying himself a king, a ruler. But wait—the roof. The roof! Jericho could get in that way. He was pretty sure he had the strength to climb up the tower and get onto the roof. It was high time Jericho found out what Marlowe was keeping in that locked solarium anyway. Maybe it was Anna.
He ran back, creeping from tree to tree. He wished he had Sam’s ability to go invisible. The Shadow Men walked toward the servants’ entrance.
“He’ll be back. He can’t go far,” one of them said.
And Jericho held his breath until they were inside.
Then he darted for the back of the estate.
As he’d predicted, climbing up the side of the tower was no trouble for him now, thanks to his incredible strength. He landed on the roof with the softness of a cat and crept the few feet toward the solarium, which ran nearly the length of the roof. Drapes had been drawn across its massive windows, making it impossible to see in. Jericho would have to go in blind. He tried the door. It was unlocked. Of course—who would lock a door on the roof? Carefully, he parted the drape and peered in, relieved when he saw that no one was there. Silently, he slipped inside.
It appeared to be another laboratory, but unlike the one in the basement, this one seemed to be dedicated solely to the strange golden machine taking up the center of the room. Metal legs secured the contraption to the floor, and its huge, rounded belly hummed with a fierce energy. A pair of tall poles flanked either side. Staticky threads of blue lightning shot back and forth between those poles. Two chairs, heavy with restraints, had been placed next to each pole. Wired metal helmets rested in the seats. An antenna was connected to the machine’s top with a crank to allow it to be raised to the sky, and when Jericho looked up, he saw a movable panel in the roof. On one side of the machine was a sort of teletype contraption rigged to a roll of paper, as if it were waiting for a long telegram. There was a hinged door in the center. Etched into the door was a symbol Jericho knew well.
“The Eye,” he murmured, touching it briefly. He was woozy with a rush of thought: This was what Evie was looking for! It wasn’t a place or a person; it was a machine. It had to be the machine Marlowe had spoken of, the one he hoped could reach into another dimension. Directly below the Eye symbol was a mysterious, pulsing blue orb. Jericho stepped closer to get a better look and slipped. He swiped his fingers across the bottom of his shoe, and they came back wet and red.
Blood.
The solarium’s floor rumbled—the elevator on its way up. Quickly, Jericho wiped the bottom of his shoe clean on his sleeve. He looked around frantically for a place to hide and darted behind a folding dressing screen. The elevator door opened. A Shadow Man, tall
“I am sorry, child,” the older woman said, and Jericho recognized her voice immediately as the one that had calmed him in the deprivation tank. One look at her face and he knew: This was Miriam Lubovitch Lloyd, Sam’s missing mother. The moment he thought of her name, Miriam stopped cold.
“What’s the matter now, Miriam?” the stocky Shadow Man said, irritated.
“Nothing,” she said, and let herself be led forward. But her energy was like a current Jericho could feel between them. She turned her head slightly in the direction of the dressing screen, and then Jericho heard her voice inside his head. Do not move. Stay and see. This is truth. I am sorry.
As the men in suits strapped Miriam into one chair and Anna into another, Marlowe arrived, looking very annoyed as he whipped off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Did you find him?” he asked the Shadow Men.
“No. But we will,” the tall Shadow Man said. “I’ve alerted all agents. They’ll watch the train stations and the roads. He won’t get far.”
Marlowe pointed his finger very close to the man’s nose. “You’d better find him before the exhibition.”
The Shadow Man didn’t flinch. “You don’t tell us what to do, Mr. Marlowe. We outrank you.”
A scowling Marlowe left the Shadow Man behind and came to Miriam’s side. “Hello, Miriam,” he said.
She spat in his face. He wiped the offense away with his pocket square.
“We have to charge the machine, Miriam. You’re the only one we’ve found who can balance the energy from the Diviners and the other side and keep the breach open. You know that.”
“You don’t know what you do. What you awaken.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard that all before.” He patted the machine’s golden belly. “This beauty has brought forth some of my greatest innovations. It’s a miracle.”
“This machine is a devil. It is open to the other side. To him. You know what powers its terrible heart.”
Marlowe glared at Miriam. “When we conduct the experiment again and establish a stable connection, we won’t need to use Diviners to charge the Eye anymore. We’ll have all the energy we need. Endless resources! Abundance! We just need an answer from the other side about how to proceed.”
“This, you cannot do! He tricks you. That is what he does. Don’t you see? You serve him.”
The tall Shadow Man smirked. “Whatever this entity is, this man in the hat, the United States government is very interested in acquiring him. He could be the greatest weapon on earth.”
“You will kill us all,” Miriam said.
“Hook her up so she’ll shut up,” the other Shadow Man said. “Crazy Russian Diviner.”
“Now, now. There’s no call for that,” Marlowe chastised, and the man quieted.
From his hiding place, Jericho watched Marlowe settle the metal helmet onto Miriam’s head. The other, he placed on Anna. He donned heavy rubber gloves and extracted a yellowish rock from a canister marked URANIUM, which he tucked inside the machine.
“Don’t,” Miriam begged. “The soldiers’ souls are trapped inside the Eye. It is torture for them. And for the Diviners you use.”
Jericho knew Miriam was saying this for him, so that he would know.
“There’s no one trapped inside, Miriam. I’ve told you this before,” Marlowe tutted.
“Not true. The soldiers power your machine. Our sin powers it,” she said, and she sounded close to crying.
“I don’t know why you torture yourself so, Miriam,” Marlowe said with a sigh.
Marlowe slid a large pair of goggles over his eyes. He faced the machine, flipping switches and turning gears. The hum grew louder. A flickering halo formed above Miriam and Anna and shot down, encasing them in a cone of multi-ringed light. The machine glowed brightly with some new burst of energy. In the room, the lights brightened. The radio blurted on so loudly Jericho had to cover his ears. Only the machine’s teletype remained silent. Marlowe watched it closely.
“Anything?” the tall Shadow Man asked.
“No,” Marlowe answered, clearly disappointed. “No message.”
He cranked up the dials. Anna fought against her restraints. Her body shook. “I hear them! They cry. Blood and pain. It gives him power! You must not… you must set them free!”
She cried out with visions beyond comprehension. What she saw was burning her up from the inside. Blood poured from her nostrils. Smoke rose from her skin where red burns appeared. But Marlowe and the men kept their eyes on the ticker tape, not caring what was happening to the Diviner in the chair.
Jericho had to stop this insanity. He would rush them. Knock them out. Then he would free Anna and Miriam. The Shadow Men might get off a few shots first, but he had to try. But before he could move, Miriam cried out:
“No! Go now! Do not look back! Warn them! Tell the truth of it!”
Jericho knew the warning was meant for him.
“What’s she saying?” one of the Shadow Men sniped, moving quickly to Miriam’s side.
Anna Provenza was screaming now with the power of the terrible visions breaking her apart. Jericho willed himself not to scream, too.
“Can you calm her down, Miriam? I can’t think!” Marlowe growled, eyes on the teletype.
While the men were distracted, Jericho slipped out the door again, Anna’s screams still ringing in his ears. He leaped from the roof and vomited into one of Marlowe’s rosebushes. Then he took off toward the woods, running faster than he ever had before, disappearing deep into the cover of forest. He had to get back to the city and warn the others. But the Shadow Men would be looking for him. He’d need to avoid the train stations and main roads. He’d have to make it back on foot, through the countryside. And he’d have to hope that there was enough serum in his bloodstream to keep him alive.
SOLID CITIZENS
Branchville, New Jersey
Spring Fair
In the Fitter Families for Future Firesides tent, the white-capped nurses cleaned up the last of the day’s syringes and cotton swabbing while the doctor made his report. It was nearly suppertime, and the doctor was eager to return to his comfortable home, where his wife was cooking him a steak. So he frowned as two men in dark suits pushed aside the tent’s flaps and sauntered inside. They looked out of place here but didn’t walk like it. Instead, they carried an ease of ownership, as if the world would bend to them with just a finger.
“I’m afraid the eugenics tent is closed until tomorrow, gentlemen,” the doctor said.
The men stepped in front of the good doctor’s desk, blocking out the day’s dying light.
“We’re associates of Mr. Madison’s. I’m Mr. Jefferson. This is Mr. Adams.”
Mr. Adams pressed his fingers to his hat brim but did not tip it.
“Oh,” the doctor said, straightening his tie. “I thought I was supposed to give the files to that Madison fellow.”
“We’re all citizens, united in our cause.” Mr. Jefferson smiled a pebbly smile. “Did anyone of interest pass through today?”
“Ay-yup. Found one from Cape May who might be the real deal. He told us he can disturb radio signals. Watches don’t work on him, either. In fact,” the doctor chuckled, “he stopped my watch! It was the darnedest thing you ever saw, wasn’t it, Muriel?”
The nurse smiled and continued cleaning.
“I’m sure it was a hoot,” Mr. Jefferson said. “Did he make mention of our friend?”
The doctor nodded. “He’s had dreams of a man in a tall hat, just like you said. I can’t say I understood a word of it. But here’s his file.”
“Is he on our list?” Mr. Jefferson asked his partner, keeping his eyes on the page of information—name, age, home address, psychological profile.
Mr. Adams peered over Jefferson’s shoulder. “Yep. Subject number thirty-four.”
The doctor edged in closer and lowered his voice. “Say, uh, what’s all this about, anyway, man to man?”
Mr. Jefferson shut the file and handed it off to Mr. Adams. “It’s a matter of national security. We believe these so-called Diviners are dangerous. They’re inclined toward criminality, anarchy, and other degenerate behavior. A fault in the bloodline, you see.”
“Oh, I do! I certainly do. That’s just science,” the doctor said confidently, pointing to the eugenics board inside the tent. “When my daughter, Sally Ann, wanted to marry her fella, I told her, ‘Now, Sally Ann, you better let me do a blood test on him first, make sure he’s the right sort.’”
“I’m sure you can appreciate how serious it might be if this radical sort, with their strange powers, were allied with our enemies or foreign powers in any way. The fundamental values of our nation would be at risk.”
The doctor waved his finger in the air. “By gum, I knew it! I knew something wasn’t right about those people!”
“Some men can see through the veil,” Mr. Jefferson said. His smile did not reach his eyes. “The United States thanks you for your efforts in helping to identify these dangerous people and appreciates your silence in the matter.”
“You can count on me, Mr. Jefferson—I’m a solid citizen. Happy to help in any way.”
Mr. Jefferson patted the man’s arm. “You already have, doctor.”
Mr. Adams fired up the brown sedan. “Anybody found Marlowe’s lab rat yet?”
“No. But we will. Madison is on it. Odds are good he’ll make his way back to his friends.”
“Why can’t we round ’em up?”
“In time, in time.”
“Where to?” Mr. Jefferson asked, pulling onto the road.
Mr. Jefferson twisted the piano wire around his gloved fingers. “Cape May, of course. And then I believe it’s high time we paid a visit to Sam Lloyd.”