Angelopolis(97)

It was a short walk, and yet Yana felt as though they were making a journey to another universe. She

had always found it eerie that people aboveground knew nothing about the space. It could cave in,

killing thousands of living beings, and nobody would know the difference.

When they reached the core of the panopticon, the immensity of the space pulled her eye up, and

then, just as her vision adjusted to the scale and grandiosity of the structure, closed in on the rows and

rows of creatures locked in their glass-and-metal cells, each angel back-lit by harsh neon.

Yana glanced at Bruno and then Verlaine, wondering what they would think of the state of their

underground prison. Unlike other facilities she’d visited, where the ambiance was sleek and clean,

orderly and antiseptic as a hospital, the panopticon was a dungeon of the classic medieval variety.

The floors were concrete and stained with blood. Dim lights shone overhead, creating pools of murky

light. There was, somewhere in the mass of cells, a lab where countless men and women labored

over biological samples of angelic creatures. Every living being could be opened, studied, and

classified. There was a pretension toward research and scientific progress, of course, but in the end

they were there to exploit the prisoners for their own benefit. Every creature, Yana knew from her

own experience, belonged to its captor.

“The security offices are this way,” Dmitri said, walking toward an alcove off the panopticon.

Yana slowed her pace to match Verlaine’s and, speaking quietly, so that the others wouldn’t hear

her, said, “If your Evangeline is here, she’s in one of these cells.”

Verlaine gave her a grateful look. She squeezed his arm and gestured for him to come closer before

she pulled a wad of material from under her sweater and pushed it into his hands. He looked at it,

puzzled, and then smiled: It was the drunk security guard’s jacket. She’d lifted it off his chair as they

passed through the elevator doors with Dmitri.

III

This is one of the only spots in the facility without security cameras,” Dmitri said, bringing them into

an office and locking the door. “It’s safe to talk here.”

Verlaine paced the room. “There isn’t much to talk about,” he said. “We just need to know where

Godwin is holding Evangeline.”

Bruno didn’t know if he should admire Verlaine’s obsessive pursuit or if he should tell him to back

off and let Dmitri guide them. It was Verlaine’s nature to push harder the closer he came to his target:

He always wanted to go in shooting, no matter what risk was involved. It was an admirable quality

when they were on familiar terrain, with plenty of backup and weapons at their disposal. Being a

million miles underneath a Siberian nuclear wasteland, in a security office loaded with plasma

screens displaying hundreds of Russian angelologists and thousands of creatures in their cell pods—

that was another story. Yana had assured them that Dmitri would be safe, but he couldn’t help but be

wary of a man who had spent most of his career in the frozen tundra.

Bruno searched the video monitors for Godwin, but all he could make out were various office

spaces filled with people in lab coats. “You ever get Godwin on one of these things?”

“I have been monitoring Merlin Godwin for fifteen years,” Dmitri said, waving a hand

dismissively at the plasma screens. “Believe me, it would be a pleasure to nail him. But I can tell you

that Godwin and his crew would never be stupid enough to let me see anything too important.” Dmitri

leaned against his desk and crossed his arms across his chest. “My surveillance only goes so far.”

Bruno tried to imagine Dmitri spying on Godwin—eavesdropping on phone calls, monitoring his

electronic correspondence. He was beginning to understand how frustrating it might be. “Let’s hear

what you’ve got on Godwin first.”

“I should start by making one thing clear,” Dmitri said. “I’m not easily impressed by criminal

behavior. Russia is full of thieves. But most of them want money and power and prestige. Not

Godwin. He’s after another thing entirely.”

“Such as?” Verlaine asked.

Dmitri said, “Godwin has been working with the Grigori family to remove weak Nephilim from the

general population, testing them for certain genetic qualities, and then disposing of or incarcerating

them if they fail to yield the desired results.”

“Sounds like the bastard has been doing us a favor,” Yana said.

“He might have been helpful if he’d just continued on his genocidal path,” Dmitri said.

“Unfortunately, his ultimate goal seems to be to repopulate the world with creatures superior to the