The Seal of Solomon by Rick Yancey

lecture.
    â€œThe ring, the Great Seal,” Op Nine said slowly, “is the key. Without it, the wearer cannot control the . . . agents confined within the Vessel. Indeed, without the ring, the Lesser Seal cannot even be broken. One without the other is useless. With both . . .” He took a deep breath. “Catastrophe.”
    The door swung open and a guy in a black jumpsuit like Ashley’s stepped in, carrying a tray with orange juice and two slices of toast.
    â€œAh,” Op Nine said. “The food is here.” He seemed relieved.
    â€œNot much of it, though,” I said, trying again to sit up. Op Nine bent to help me. The room whirled around my head. I wondered why I felt so light-headed and weak. What was in that shot Ashley gave me on the chopper—and why had she given me a shot in the first place?
    I drank the tall glass of orange juice down in three gulps. The toast was cut into quarters and that’s how I ate it, stuffing a whole quarter in my mouth and barely chewing before I swallowed.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Let me see if I have all this. After you guys fired Mike for trying to take Excalibur, he breaks into your vaults and steals the two Seals of Solomon. I’m still not clear on what they are or what they do, but anyway, after that you assigned Agent Ashley to keep tabs on me because now I’m a person of special interest or something. Mike shows up, kidnaps me, takes me up into the mountains to kill me—only Mike knows why—and Ashley rescues me in the nick of time. Now we’re on a boat on our way to . . . where? ”
    â€œThe nexus,” Op Nine said.
    â€œThe what?”
    â€œThe center. The place of opening.”
    â€œRight. Gotcha. And the plan is to stop Mike before he can pull off this opening.”
    â€œCorrect.”
    â€œOr else . . . ? ”
    â€œCatastrophe.”
    A bell went off, a blaring sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Op Nine checked his watch.
    â€œIt’s time for the briefing,” he said to Abigail.
    She nodded, then turned to me and gave my shoulder a little pat.
    â€œWe have to go, Alfred.”
    â€œWhen are you taking me home?”
    They both looked away.
    â€œYou’re not taking me home, are you?” I asked.
    â€œYou’ll be safe here, Alfred,” Abby said.
    â€œI’d rather go home and take my chances.”
    Abby was looking at Op Nine. She pursed her fat red lips and for some reason I thought of goldfish, those big koi you see sometimes in little ponds outside Japanese restaurants.
    He said, “Perhaps we will discuss it, once the Seals have been recovered.”
    They left, slamming the big round metal door closed behind them. The wheel turned and I heard a clanking sound, like a dead bolt sliding home. It hit me then that I had traded one kidnapper for another. OIPEP might not want to kill me like Mike did, but I was at their mercy just the same.

12
    I don’t know how long I lay there, waiting for them to come back. It seemed a very long time. There was really nothing to do, no magazines or books or a television or a radio, and I still felt light-headed and kind of hollow, like a scooped-out pumpkin. After a while I drifted off to sleep. When there’s nothing to do, I sleep. I’m like a dog that way.
    I had a horrible dream. First I was swimming, which wasn’t so horrible, since I couldn’t swim in real life. The sun burned high overhead, the waves rolled gently over my bare back, and the warm water seemed to buoy me up so swimming took hardly any effort. I was in the middle of the ocean, no shore in sight, and the water was this deep forest green and smelled rich, like fertile soil. Then I dived beneath the surface and things started to get freaky. I morphed into this scale-less fish, big-headed, with grayish skin, a white underbelly like a catfish, and a toothless mouth. I changed into this fish, and then I started to