GODSFALL

The Divorce Contract

He had kept the case under the floorboards of a storage unit in the Westport district for three years.

Not because he expected to need it. He had been genuinely, deliberately optimistic about that. He had stored it there the same way people kept passports current even when they had no travel plans, as a concession to the reality of their own nature rather than an expression of distrust. He was not a man who assumed the worst. He was a man who prepared for it.

The case was titanium. Roughly the size of a briefcase, with a biometric lock that he had set to his right thumb, second knuckle, because if his hands were ever in a state where the thumb itself was not functional he would want the lock to fail. There were twelve other people in the world who had held cases identical to this one at the identical moment in their careers. He did not know where nine of them were now.

Iris had brought it from the storage unit while he was on the phone. She had let herself into the suite without knocking, set the case on the table, and gone to stand by the window with her arms folded, not looking at him; that was her own definition of privacy.

Iris's version of most things was slightly colder than the standard version. It was not a flaw. It was a precision instrument.

He opened the case.

Inside, layered under a foam lining, were three things. A satellite phone with a rotating encryption key. A sealed identity, complete: three different passports and their supporting documentation, none of them in any name he had used in the last decade. And a small sealed envelope that was plain white, with one word written on the outside in a handwriting that was not his.

He picked up the satellite phone first. Pressed the single unlabeled key on the side.

It rang twice.

"GODSFALL." The sound of the voice was a man's voice. It sounded like he was from somewhere near the Black Sea. It was Zhou's voice, that of a man whose job no one recognized. "The team that watches the perimeter said you were activated at eleven fifty-three. We have been watching you since the ceremony."

They were supposed to be on watch. They had to be keeping track of time. It was unfortunate but his marriage had become a security issue.

"Marcus Vane," Ethan said.

Zhou said, "He is the man who talks to the shadow council. We have been keeping an eye on him for eight months. We were waiting for your okay to do anything. You had said you wanted to be left alone not to be a part of things."

Ethan replied, "Well, that's now.”

Something in Zhou's voice changed. He wasn't cautious and courteous anymore. "The War God Temple is ready sir. We have seven teams. They are all ready to go. Zephs network is up to date. Iris is at the temple. Bao is in the city."

"Where is he?" Ethan asked.

Zhou said, "He is on the rooftop of the building across the street. He has been there since six PM." Zhou paused for a moment. "He brought some noodles to eat."

Ethan looked out the window. Beyond the glass, forty-three stories up, Bao was on a rooftop eating noodles waiting. This had been going on for three years. All of them had been waiting, keeping everything patient.

Ethan felt something. He was not sure what it was. It was not shame. That wasn't gratitude, though. It was a compromise.

Ethan said, "Tell Bao to come. Tell Zeph to find out everything about Vane. Where he comes from, who is helping him, how he does things, and what he has been doing for the past three years. I want to know everything."

Zhou said, "It will be done within the hour." Then he said quietly, "Welcome back sir."

Ethan looked at the sealed envelope that was still, in the case. He had never been able to open it. He had a pretty good idea of what was inside. He had known since the day it was put there because the woman who put it there had told him. She had told him everything in a way.

He hung up the phone. Looked at Iris, who was still standing at the window.

"The divorce papers are already done, " he said. It wasn't really a question.

"They were ready before you got married." Iris did not turn around. "You told us to be ready for anything that might happen."

"I know, " he said. He picked up the case. Closed it. "That was an idea."

"It was your idea," she said.

He put the case back on the table. Opened the envelope. He read the whole four pages without changing the way he looked. The papers were very thorough. His law practice was always meticulous. There were two reasons for him hiring them: they were good at what they did and the person in charge of the team had helped break up two impossible rival teams after they had been fighting for eleven years. Anyone who could do that was worth paying.

He took the papers on the page. He never hesitated or faltered in his signature.

Thinking about it would not change anything so he didn't think about it.

"Leave the papers on the pillow," he said.

Iris finally turned away from the window. She looked at him. Her face looked the same as it did. Completely blank.

"There is a car waiting for you outside," she said. "You can leave whenever you are ready."

He picked up his jacket from the chair where he had left it an hour ago. It felt like a different night now. He put on his jacket. He did up the buttons. He took one look at the room. The candles were burning low, the champagne was not cold anymore and there were flower petals all over the floor.

He took a card from the desk. He took the pen from the desk drawer. Removed the cap. He wrote four words on the card. He put the card on the pillow next to the divorce papers.

Then he walked out of the room.