Chapter Fifty-Seven
If you could turn a human into a raisin, then suck some moisture out of that mummified corpse, it would approximate the dried husks of the people sprawled all over this very JFK-like airport.
Many of them have their suitcases lying right by them—as if whatever happened to them came without warning just as they were going through security or checking in their luggage.
“What happened?” Ariel asks in horror, and I realize I didn’t translate Rasputin’s “depressing world” warning for her earlier.
I translate Ariel’s question and join everyone in staring at Rasputin, glad for a chance to tear my gaze away from the corpses.
“It was Tartarus.” Rasputin raises his visor and massages his forehead. “He comes to a world, kills all other Cognizant there, gets the populace to wo
