Division Zero (38 page)

Her passage went unnoticed; Albert’s made him shiver. She darted into the kitchen, sending the dogs scurrying off yipping. The ghost went through a hollow wall of shelves separating the kitchen from the main room, trying to cut her off. The bleary-eyed tenant screamed as a dozen plates rippled off the shelving and clattered upon the floor with no visible cause. With that, he retreated into his bedroom with a whimpering dog under each arm.

“You will not stop me.” Albert raked his hands through the air, attempting to overwhelm her with his presence.

His attack sent scratches of cold and creepy through her body, far from painful. Kirsten recognized the attack, having felt it several times in the past from other wraiths. To a normal, live person that would have chilled the heart and filled the mind with paralyzing terror. To a ghost it might have hurt a lot. To an astral projection, it was a mild tickle.

Kirsten looked down at herself and smirked. “Was that supposed to do something?”

He roared.

“Albert, what would your father say if he knew you killed innocent people just to make Intera suffer?”

His eyes bulged; face contorting with fury beyond reason.

“Uh oh.” She cringed.

Enraged, he lunged and seized her by the throat. They fell in a murderous embrace through several floors as he strangled her, roaring and cursing in German. Her breathing drew short and labored and she clawed at his hands, terrified her real body might suffocate in her sleep.

Albert could do whatever he wanted to her vulnerable astral form, solid to him and beyond the reach of her other powers. Mounting panic evaporated as she remembered the cord. She reached for where it met her forehead, but he caught her wrist, and sneered.

“Nein, kleines Mädchen.” He scowled. “I know who you are. I cannot allow you to sto―” His voice trailed off to a squeak.

His eyes swelled from their sockets as her foot pounded into his crotch with the sound of two steaks slapping together. His grip faltered as he wheezed and crumpled. Before he could realize such pain was only in his mind now, she laced her fingers about the thread of energy and squeezed. Kirsten focused on wanting the warmth of her body around her. Sensation blurred as sound, taste, touch, and sight all became one combined mess for a fleeting second, followed by darkness.

She found herself face down on dingy green carpet with her head spinning; the scent of it, stale and old, filled her throat. Two tiny bare feet stepped into her field of view. Pushing off the floor, Kirsten looked up at her child self. The girl swayed to and fro, her legs free of dirt and bruises, without any trace of blood or tears upon her perfect dress.

Kirsten sat up, holding her head in an effort to arrest the vertigo. No mood pervaded the hallway, neither dread nor a feeling of welcome. The little girl leaned forward and embraced her. Kirsten pulled the child into a fierce hug; both spoke at the same time.

“Thank you.”

he gentle nudge of a hand brought Kirsten back into the waking world. Harsh light chased away the darkness of the hallway as the scent of her mother’s house changed to the floral presence of cleaning compound. One of the nannies had come over to rouse her after opening the blinds. She squinted at the room, and for an instant thought she had pulled her little self out of the dream.

Evan slept on top of her in the chair. His pajama top scrunched to his armpits from how she clutched him like a living teddy bear. She could not help but brush his hair out of his face as she watched him breathe, finding a few minutes of peace.

“Is he having trouble sleeping alone?” The nanny leaned in with a hand on her shoulder.

Kirsten smiled. “No, I think he did this for my benefit. He’s a tough kid.”

“Aww.” She squeezed Kirsten’s shoulder. “Still having the same nightmare?”

She exhaled, studying the back of her hand. “It doesn’t scare me anymore.”

Kirsten tickled Evan awake. He lifted his head and peered through half-closed eyes. She helped him stand and he staggered to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. The look on his face, one eye wider than the other, made Kirsten laugh as she stretched the stiffness of a night spent in a chair out of her limbs.

“Come on, kid. You’re not supposed to have the ‘I need coffee’ face till you’re at least in your teens.”

He made a half-aware smile. The nanny took over, motivating him to get ready for his day. After a parting hug, Kirsten stumbled down the hallway. Evan’s expression matched the fog in her head, and she needed a hand on the wall to make it to the fitness center without falling over. The warm caress of a shower brought her the rest of the way to consciousness. Just as she finished getting into uniform, she realized people walked past her while she showered and dressed. She braced for the wave of mortal humiliation, but it did not arrive.

Old familiar surroundings?
Kirsten’s mind replayed the lash shattering the paddle.
Or maybe I beat her.

At a little past six-thirty in the morning, she walked into the empty squad room and added her discoveries from the other night to her notes. She sent the update to Captain Eze about twenty minutes later, just as the first members of her unit arrived.

Waving her hand through the holographic display panel, she sent the information about Tanaka to the Division 9 liaison. When a corporation thought itself big enough to challenge the police, they cleaned up the mess―after they made it bigger.

Her VidPhone beeped within a minute. A head covered in short black hair above the hint of a brown coat appeared, and gave her a piercing look.

“What is your connection to that address, Agent Wren?”

Kirsten gave a straightforward explanation of everything, including the astral projection. “That’s it… why?”

He stared in silence for some time. The reaction of a mundane to psionics often amused her.

His expression remained clinical. “Mr. Tanaka was killed last night.”

She leaned her forehead into her hands. “Albert. Let me guess, a doll went nuts?”

A hint of amusement floated on his words. “I don’t know about
went
nuts, but it certainly tore them off. It seems old Tanaka-san had a thing for dolls. His little sex toy did one hell of a number on him.”

Kirsten cringed. “Don’t waste your time analyzing its memory. A ghost possessed it.”

“Riiight…” His eyebrows peeked up over his sunglasses. “I’ll note that in the report.” He feigned surprise. “Hold on a moment, there’s no checkbox for ‘ghost’ here.”

Kirsten shrugged at him. “Whatever. It’s your time to burn if you don’t believe me. You know full well what we do over here is real, and trust me… I saw him myself.”

“You were there?”

“I already explained to you. I wasn’t physically there… my disembodied consc―oh, the hell with it. You’re not listening to me anyway, and even if you were, you don’t believe me.”

The holographic frown betrayed his distrust. “I see.”

“Check the logs. My body stayed at the dorm all night.”

“I will.” The head shimmered away from looking real, and collapsed into a glinting point.

“Well, there goes that.” She slumped over her desk, muttering into her arms.

Going after Tanaka now was useless. Without a living brain to dive into or suggest, he could not help. Perhaps Albert had done her a favor. His death could slow down the assassins. Also, if Division 9 gave Tanaka’s terminal their usual digital enema, the man on the other end of the call would have major problems of his own soon. She wondered why Albert let him live this long.

Probably because he wanted Tanaka to kill me, I must have scared him into tying up loose ends just in case I find him.

As Nicole fluttered by, Kirsten looked up. “Hey, Nikki?”

“Yo.” The redhead turned with a big smile. “What’s up?”

“Can you do me a favor? I left my patrol craft in the field. Would you mind giving me a ride?”

“Oh, sure. Hey what was it like to jump off a building?”

Kirsten told her all about it as they drove into the city. At that hour, neither of them had eaten, and they stopped for food on the way. Kirsten opted for oatmeal, regretting her choice as soon as she felt the strawberries devolving back into flavorless OmniSoy paste on her tongue. Nicole chattered incessantly about everything from the color she had just painted her toenails to the attempt on Kirsten’s life yesterday. She asked again how it felt to be clinging to an ad-bot so high up in the air. The girl rambled from topic to topic so fast Kirsten lost track.

For your sake, I hope whatever man you decide to marry has the attention span of a goldfish.

“Hey!” Nicole blurted, blushing. “Sorry… hey, you know… I don’t mind if you listen to my head.”

“What’s the point? It’s like holding a seashell to my ear.” Kirsten’s attempt to simulate the sound of the ocean cut off as she ducked a thrown mushroom from Nicole’s omelet.

They both laughed.

Kirsten waved at her. “It’s okay. I owe you one anyway.”

Nicole blinked. “You do? What for?”

On the walk to the car, Kirsten explained the grenade pins. Had Nicole not bothered trying to teach her, she might not be here. A short catnap ended with the jostle of the car landing.

“Here we are!” Nicole’s voice fell from singsong to a normal speaking tone as she surveyed the other car. “Wow. Nobody stole it or shot it up, you’re lucky.”

Dorian appeared next to it.

“It’s got a… umm… good security system.” Kirsten hopped out and stuck her head back in to grin at her friend. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime. Want me to wait here in case it won’t run? I heard all sorts of bad stuff about
that
car.”

“I’m not worried, but if you want.”

When the patrol craft lit up without protest, Nicole waved and drove off. Dorian joined her in the passenger seat.

“It’s been quiet. Intera hasn’t come back looking for you.”

She blinked. “You’ve been in there all night?”

“Not like I had other plans, besides, Henry’s quite the talker.”

Kirsten kicked on the hover mode and pulled back on the controls to bring it up to cruising altitude. With no specific destination, she drove around in circles to think. Her mind drifted to Evan, a bright spot in an otherwise bleary month. The bizarre dream had sent her wandering down memory lane, where a stop on the way made her wonder if an old friend might be able to offer some help.