Division Zero: Thrall (8 page)

“Better to have options,” muttered Evan with a sly wink.

She laughed. “What did you need help with?”

“There’s this guy, Hank. Been dead maybe fifty years or so. He used ta hang out by this Chinese place, what used ta be a smoke shop years ago.”

Evan let some broccoli crumble out of his mouth. “Who buys smoke?”

Kirsten felt just as clueless but didn’t let on.

“You’ve heard of Nicoderms or Nicohalers, right?” Theo gestured at Kirsten. She nodded. “Okay. Well, back before the war, people used to get the same kind of effect from inhaling the smoke of burning tobacco. The places that sold stuff related to it were called ‘smoke shops.’”

The boy made a face. Kirsten blinked.

“Breathing in smoke? Like, on purpose?” Evan coughed just thinking about it.

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. Worked for weed too.” Theodore stared wistfully at the ceiling.

“People smoke weeds?” The look on Kirsten’s face made him laugh.

“Not weeds,
weed
. Marijuana.”

“Oh, yeah, they still do that in the Beneath,” said Kirsten.

“You ever―”

“So what about Hank?” She stared at Theo.

“Well he died of the old LC, decided to haunt his favorite smoke shop even though it killed him. He stayed there even after it shut down and turned into a bar, and then a Chinese restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah. I think I remember the place… I’ve been there, the owners were complaining about loud coughing in the middle of the night. The ghost seemed harmless.”

“Yeah, he was.” Theo made no effort to be subtle about staring at her chest.

“Was? If he’s gone, maybe he just decided to transcend.”

“Poor guy comes to Sanctuary Park two nights ago, raving about how some
thing
is after him. He wanted protection from it. Course, he couldn’t describe anything but a weird feeling. The way he rambled on ‘bout being watched and seeing eyes… It was surreal hearin’ a ghost talk the way the living talk about us. We figured he’d finally cracked. Last night, Willie said he caught a glimpse of somethin’ scoping out the park. Whatever it was, damn thing didn’t want to tangle with all of us at once, ‘specially not The Kind. Now, we got a feelin’ somethin’s stalkin’ spirits. We’re not sure if it needs to pick weaker ones, or was afraid of a crowd. Some of The Kind are nervous. They’d like you to check it out.”

Kirsten gazed at her plate for a few seconds and grinned at Evan, who was forcing himself to eat the vegetables after coating them with the pepper/olive oil residue from the chicken. She stood, tossed her plate in the dishwasher, and faced Theodore. “I think I remember the place…” She fidgeted with her bracelet. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. That couldn’t have been more than a few months ago, but I’m drawing a blank. Remind me where it was?”

“Sector 3338, shopping district.”

“Oh, right… Next to that huge stationary sign. I don’t understand how anyone in that area can sleep at night; that thing is so bright. Okay. Ev, get your shoes on.” She peeled her sweats off and gathered her uniform.

“I can go with you?” He cheered and leapt from his place at the table with such energy he almost fell flat. “Are you going to the office?”

After donning her uniform pants, she shrugged the top on and tucked it in. “No, I just don’t want anyone to mess with me. I’m not leaving you here alone, and that’s a fairly safe part of the city.”

Kirsten held Evan’s hand as they went to the roof. When the elevator door parted, she smirked at the patrol craft. It sat tilted with the right front end on a small bank of pipes. This building was not made for hovercar landing and there was no unobstructed place to set down. The flattest parts were too close to the edge. She wanted to move to a bigger, nicer place where Evan could have his own bedroom. Hesitation kept her here for the time being. If the custody request was denied and they made him go back to the dorm, she could not live in the new place.

She pulled him into a hug.

He gave her an uncomfortable smile and whispered. “Mom, what’s wrong, you’re getting squeezy again. Not in front of Theo.”

Kirsten relaxed, letting Evan run ahead to the car. Dorian faded into view just outside it, and Evan immediately launched into a fit of pleas for help learning how to shoot. Apparently, his performance at the orb game annoyed him. She watched them for a moment, idly picking at the serpentine band of gold around her right wrist. Dorian became Konstantin in her mind, a father with a son.

Wearing a silly grin, she strode to the car and got in. Theodore hesitated.

With one hand on the door about to close it, she glanced up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Ehh…” He gestured at the vehicle. “I got this thing about riding in the back seat of a police car.”

“The partition is down,” she said. “Get in. Besides, you can float right through it.”

Sector 3338 glowed in a mixture of red, green, and white light. It was still early, as far as the city was concerned. At a touch past eight, people filled the streets as they went among the various stores that still operated walk-in locations. An endless parade of glowing eyeliner, mechanical hair ornaments, and the latest upper-middle-class fashion trends went by.

Delivery bots swarmed about, a tangle of automated traffic management as dozens of merchants competed for airspace. Boxy ones stopped, waiting for others to pass before they pivoted and raced off. Some shot up vertical while others nosed through purpose-built hatches in the sides of buildings.

As she had hoped, the people who noticed her uniform gave her a comfortable distance. She kept a firm grip on Evan’s hand, walking ahead of Theo and Dorian, who discussed the current crisis at length.

Up ahead, the metal sidewalk glowed with emerald light. Holographic Chinese symbols filled the window of a corner property, saturating the area in their glow. If not for having just eaten, the scent in the air outside the place would have lured her in. She stopped a few steps from the door, waiting for Dorian and Theodore to catch up.

The owners of the Jade Crane went as far as possible to recreate the ambiance of China inside the building. Pale hardwood floors, bamboo plants, and large full-wall paintings of rolling green landscapes lent the space a foreign quality. She looked around, seeing no trace of ghosts other than the two she arrived with. However, on the dark brown stone of an electric waterfall fountain, a faint luminous patch caught her attention, as if a spoonful of glowing paint had splashed on it.

“This must’ve been one big smoke shop,” muttered Kirsten.

A busty, tall brunette in a low-cut gown distracted Theodore. “They expanded. This place is doing well.”

Kirsten felt a twinge of inadequacy compared to the woman, until her right arm reached out from under the table to grab a wine glass―metal from armpit to fingertip. Gleaming enamel white and covered with floral engravings, it was close in profile to the size and shape the limb should have been.
White Orchid arm, that’s over a million creds.

“Can I help you, officer?”

The man’s voice provided a welcome distraction from the sight of a cyber-prosthetic. Kirsten unconsciously rubbed her arm as she smiled at a man in a dark suit, Asian with some other things mixed in.

“I’m following up on a previous investigation here. There was a report of unusual activity about a year ago? Unexplained coughing.”

“Oh, yes.” He let an electronic menu slip back into a holding box. “I remember hearing about that. It had persisted up until a few days ago.”

“It’s stopped?”

“Yes, there was a disturbance the other night. We filed a report with the police, but they haven’t done much yet. We lost about sixteen thousand credits worth of fish.”

Kirsten wandered toward the stain on the fountain. “Cooler failed?”

“No, officer.” He pointed at an H-shaped aquarium along the top of a partition wall among tables. “They were exotics for display, not consumption. The strange thing was how all of the dead ones were in the same place.” The man gestured at the central strut of the H. “We found them floating yesterday morning. A technician could find no problem with the tank, though the log recorded a severe temperature drop during the night, but only in a small area.”

“Heck,
I
could kill fish,” said Theodore. “The little buggers are pretty sensitive to cold. Just stick my hand in the tank and poof. Hank may have lashed out at the restaurant for replacing his beloved smoke shop.”

“I don’t think so.” Kirsten leaned close, studying the aquarium. “He’d been here for years and never did anything that overt before.”

Dorian swiped a finger through the smear. “This is residue. An entity got into a fight in here, or at least, something hurt one.”

“Thank you, I’ll just be a few minutes looking around. I’ll try not to get in anyone’s way.” She smiled at the host as he backed off, and closed her eyes. Evan’s hand slipped away. “Don’t wander too far.”

“I won’t.”

Her mind opened in an effort to read ambient energy. Weak imprints lingered here and there, confirming a spirit had been here. Theodore was close to her when she opened her eyes; she jumped back with a yelp that quieted the room by several decibels. Now embarrassed at drawing attention to herself, she scowled at him.

“Dammit, Theo, don’t do that.”

Dorian encouraged him to give her some space and glanced at her. “Feel anything?”

“There was something here, not much of an imprint though. It doesn’t feel like he was obliterated, but I can’t find the sense of peace that usually saturates an area after a transcendence.”

“K…” Dorian pointed.

She spun to follow his gesture, and gasped at the sight of Evan. He had crouched, one hand on the floor amid another blotch of glowing matter. He trembled, staring wide-eyed into nowhere with an expression as if someone was about to shoot him. Kirsten ran to him, sliding to a halt on her knees with her hands on his shoulders.

“Evan?”

He didn’t react.

“Evan!” She shook him. “Evan, snap out of it.”

A well-dressed man at a nearby table leaned around. “Is he all right? Should I call a MedVan?”

Mouth still open, Evan blinked once and broke out of whatever trance had taken him. After a final severe shiver, he swallowed and wiped the cold sweat from his face. His trembling subsided, and his breathing returned to normal.

“Thank you. I think he’s okay.” She stood as Evan did, refusing to let go of his hand. “What was that?”

He stared up at her. “Fear.”

“Obviously.” Theodore shook his head. “You looked about ready to piss yourself.”

Evan glared at him. “Was not. It wasn’t my fear.” He looked at Kirsten. “Someone was real scared here.”

“ Oh, that explains it,” said Theodore with a smirk. “The kid’s a telempath.”

“Nooooo,” whined Evan with an exasperated sigh. “You’re just not scary.”

Dorian chuckled, much to Theodore’s chagrin.

“He’s not a telempath, Theo.” Kirsten pulled Evan into a hug, stroking her hand over his hair. “He’s mildly clairvoyant. He probably caught a psychometric reading from the residue.”

“Mildly clairvoyant? That’s like saying you’re mildly a cop. He either is, or isn’t. Question is, does he train himself how to use it?” Theodore gestured at him.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” cried a sour-sounding voice. “Forcing your psychic nonsense on an innocent little boy.”

“Oh, shit,” muttered Dorian. “Self-righteousness at two o’clock low, coming in hot.”

A middle-aged woman ambled over, shaking her finger. Kirsten’s gaze shot right to the gold cross pin on her lapel. She recognized the icon of Reverend Harris’s vehement anti-psionic Fundamentalist Church of the Redeemer.

“Psionics aren’t a choice, dammit. I’m not
making
him anything. He was born with his gift, as was I. No amount of screaming at your invented God will change that. How
dare
you judge us for being different. Don’t you see how fucking hypocritical you are”―Evan covered his mouth to hide the urge to laugh at Kirsten’s language― “if your so-called God is real and as all-powerful as you say, then psionic people could not exist unless he made them.” Kirsten vibrated with anger, turning red. “You don’t even believe your own bullshit.”

The woman, and half the room, gasped. When shock wore off, she ranted in scripture. Something in the back of Kirsten’s mind snapped at the all-too-familiar sound of a woman’s voice invoking God at her, and she reached for her stunrod with a shaking hand, tears in her eyes.

Dorian jumped in front of her. “Don’t… not worth it.”

Theodore held up his hand and flashed a rogue’s grin. “I got this.”