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“Power breeds power. The best way for those in power to stay in power is for them to decide who in the next generation is powerful. Members of this society are successful and wealthy—not by their own merit, but because once they are chosen, they are fast-tracked to the best schools, the best jobs.”
“That’s hardly fair.” Sylvia tried to process what Alicia was saying. She sounded bizarre, like a madman ranting on a street corner. But Alicia wasn’t ranting, she was calm and composed, using that same voice she’d used to teach class. But what she was saying couldn’t possibly be real, could it?
“You don’t believe me, and I take that as a compliment.”
“I’m sorry, Alicia, I’m trying to wrap my head around it…”
“You’re a dreamer by nature. I tried to teach you to be a skeptic. To question and analyze. If you accept such a silly-sounding story without questioning it, I would be disappointed.”
“If this…secret society…is running the world, what does that mean?”
“Mean? It means as much or as little as you want it to. There are, no doubt, upsides to consolidating power. There’s stability in that. People yearn for stability, familiarity.”
“But the downside,” Sylvia said, “is that the rest of us never really have a chance.”
“Exactly. The playing field stays tilted. If those who aren’t members, aren’t part of their club, get too much power, get too close to achieving a level of success these people feel ownership over, well, then they either destroy them…or recruit them.”
“How big is this society?”
“I’m not precisely sure. Western Europe, parts of the Middle East, have been controlled by these people for a thousand years.”
Europe. Where Hugo and Lancelot were from.
She shook off that thought. “If it’s in Europe, and it’s been happening for so long…” Sylvia took a long drink, using the moment to decide what to say next. “This faraway secret society is why you left your job?” That was the piece that didn’t add up. Even if such a society existed, which she could concede was possible, what did it have to do with her old teacher?
“My dear, I didn’t leave. I had to run.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Because I am part of a group of people who’ve dedicated themselves to exposing the injustices caused by this society. I kept my identity secret for a long time, but they recently learned my name. I’ve been in hiding.”
“Oh, um, okay.”
“You don’t believe me, and I understand that. I wish I had time to let you process what I’m saying.”
“Why don’t we have time?”
Alicia leaned forward. “Because I believe the men you spent the night with are members of that society.”
Sylvia’s blood ran cold. “What…what are you talking about?”
Alicia pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the screen. She turned it around, displaying Sylvia’s Instagram post from yesterday—the vague form of a reclining tattooed man in two different positions. Only she knew it was more than that, that it was two different men, both of whom had been her lovers.
“This man’s tattoo, it’s the tri spiral.” Alicia set down her phone as if it weighed ten pounds. “It’s the symbol of the secret society. The symbol of the Masters’ Admiralty.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You mean…you think…” Sylvia wanted to jump out of her chair and pace, she wanted to walk away, pretend this conversation hadn’t happened. Wasn’t happening. She once again felt sick to her stomach, because she knew what the next thing Alicia would say was going to be.
“They’re members of the Masters’ Admiralty.”
Sylvia shook her head. That sick feeling intensified. “No, Hugo was my professor at Northwestern.”
“And he just happened to show up?” Alicia’s tone was pitying.
“He’s in Charleston writing a book.”
“And perhaps that is true. Is he the one with the tattoo?”
“No, that’s…that’s Lancelot. He’s an investigator.”
