Deicide

by M. K. Gibson

  Ito came off the wall and slapped Vulcan across the mouth with his abnormally large hand.

  Vulcan just laughed. “That all ya got, monkey man?”

  Ito reached back, but Gabby caught his hand. She shook her head at the shorter agent and he resumed his position at the back of the room.

  “That’s right, walk away.”

  Gabby then turned towards Vulcan and smiled. She slowly advanced on the bound god. Deliberately, she stepped behind him and leaned over him, placing one long arm on the table. Opening the inside of her coat, she let Vulcan look at the collection of wands before selecting a thin, black wand made of obsidian.

  “Think that scares me?” Vulcan asked. “Obsidian is volcanic. Aint gonna do nuthin’ to me.”

  Gabby leaned in close, so that her lips were almost on his ear. She began whispering something Messer couldn’t hear. But from the way the sweat began to bead on Vulcan’s forehead, he assumed Gabby was explaining exactly what she, and the wand, were capable of doing. Suddenly Vulcan’s eyes went wide.

  “You—you can’t do that!”

  “Technically Gabby isn’t held by the same laws as we are,” Messer said. “As an ambassador, she has legal . . . latitude. So, if there is something she needs to do to a suspect who is impeding an investigation, then there is little I can do to stop her.”

  “Okay, fine!” Vulcan said. “I got a package with this powder in it. The instructions that came with it were simple. Ingest the powder and I would be filled with enough power to create the vials. And man, once I took the stuff, damn.”

  “Vitae,” Ito said.

  “Like a thousand worshipers calling my name,” Vulcan said with half-closed eyes.

  “Then what?” Messer asked.

  “After that, making the vials was easy. The Vitae boosted my power, add a little black magic, and voila.”

  “Where did you deliver them once they were created?” Messer asked.

  “I’d get instructions to leave them at various locations around the city. Never the same place twice. In return I got envelopes of money and more of the Vitae.”

  With his elbows on the metal table, Messer interlaced his fingers and grunted at the information. With a casual look up at the mirror behind Vulcan on the far wall, he caught eyes with Ito. The agent nodded slightly.

  “So, why tell us all this?” Messer asked.

  “What does it matter. I either go into a prison, or live out there in another prison. Walls are walls.”

  “Avalantis isn’t a prison,” Messer said.

  “We can’t leave the city without special permission. We have to live by mundane laws. We’re denied the very essence of our being. Sounds like a prison to me.”

  “No, it’s an opportunity to no longer have to hide,” Messer countered. “To make your lives better and to reinvent yourself.”

  “Yeah, I know the propaganda,” Vulcan said.

  “Then you know that you need to have a job and contribute to society. Sorry. But just because you used to have power and dominion over mundanes doesn’t make them your servants. It really wasn’t all that long ago the myths either subjugated mankind or used them as food. Sorry your glory days are over. Since the great reveal, this city is the only peace mankind will allow. Be thankful. If this had happened outside the city, worse things would have happened to you.”

  Vulcan finally met Messer’s eyes. His lips curled back into a sneer. “If you didn’t have that knife, I’d kill you.”

  “Well, I do have it,” Messer said. “So, enjoy prison. Vulcan Fireforge, you are officially under arrest for narcotics trafficking and distribution.”

  A snapping sound echoed in the room as the intercom clicked on.

  “Don’t forget obstruction of justice and resisting arrest,” Deacon’s voice said, then the intercom clicked off.

  Messer sighed. “Thank you, Detective Deacon.”

  The intercom clicked back on. “You’re welcome.”

  ********

  14 May - 5:05 pm

  1st Precinct Detention Facility, Observation Room, District of Axis Mundi

  Eric sat back down, pleased with himself. Next to him, Jessie and Cass were staring daggers.

  “What?”

  “They’re in an interrogation,” Cass said.

  “Yeah, I know. By loosening Vulcan up, who knows what will slip out. Or what he’ll think.”

  “Think?” Jessie asked.

  “Ito is . . . complicated,” Cass explained. “The short version is he’s half Satori.”

  Jessie raised an eyebrow. “Satori?”

  “Yeah,” Cross said. “The Satori are a sort of monkey-man myth from Japan. And they read minds. Damn, I don’t miss that. It took me a couple of years to blank my thoughts so he couldn’t read them. I guess that’s what made me a good undercover cop. Seeing him, though . . . wow, it was like I’d forgotten all my practice.”

  “He reads minds?” Jessie asked.

  “Don’t worry, he can’t really ‘read minds’, exactly. He just gets mental impressions. He can tell if you’re lying or what you’re feeling.”

  “So that’s what Eric meant? Messer’s using him to read some surface level thoughts or feelings like overhearing someone’s phone conversation?”

  “Yup,” Cass said. “Not admissible in court, but it’s an edge.”

  “How long were you two married?” Jessie asked.

  “Two years,” Eric said when Cass didn’t speak up.

  “And when were they divorced?”

  “Almost what, eight years ago?” he said. “She claims they’ve both moved on, but I don’t think so. I mean, did you see the way he looked at her?”

  “Do you mind not talking about my personal life?” Cass asked. “It’s rude.”

  “Oh girl, you should have seen the wedding. I was beautiful.”

  “You wore a white dress . . . to my wedding.”

  “I thought I could pull it off.”

  “You could not.”

  “I’m just saying, I think he still loves you.”

  “Love’s never been the problem,” Cass said.

  “Then was the problem?” Jessie asked.

  “Damn, New Girl,” Eric said. “That’s just rude.”

  Cass sighed. “Same problems most couples have.”

  Jessie nodded. “Look, it’s your business. Sorry for asking. But I just want to make sure your head’s in a good place.”

  Cass almost laughed. “So, you don’t care at all about this situation other than the job?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re a horrible liar.”

  “Okay, I’m curious as hell,” Jessie said with a slight chuckle. “I want to know what he did to cause the divorce, what you’re feeling, and most of all, what’s the deal with the tail. But in the end, yes, I care about the job.”

  “Well, let’s just say cheating was involved.”

  “I see,” Jessie said. “And, uh, the um . . .”

  “The tail is surprisingly . . . useful,” Cass said.

  “Cool, cool,” Jessie said as she held her hands up and awkwardly shaped them into odd configurations. “So when you say ‘useful’, how exactly—”

  Cass just gave the shorter girl a stern look.

  “Right,” Jessie nodded, and dropped her hands.

  Eric silently smiled, listening to the two women talk. In the moment, they forgot how much they despised one another and were just human beings. Maybe that’s what the world needed more of. People being willing to share their stories with each other, and having the wisdom to listen. Huh, like Dr. Harris. Maybe that shrink wasn’t evil? Eric’s data tablet vibrated and he looked down at the incoming message.

  Well . . . shit.

  “I think I’m just mad because I haven’t seen or heard from him in a few years. He was a great narco cop with the APD. And I guess it would make sense that he ended up an agent. I just . . . I just wasn’t ready for that kind of surprise.”

  “Well, get ready for a worse one,
” Eric said, turning the tablet around.

  “Well crap,” Cass said, then went over to the comm. “Detective, we need you right away.”

  “I’m in the middle of something,” Messer said.

  “You need to see this,” Cass asserted.

  “Be right there,” Messer sighed.

  A few minutes later, the door to the observation room buzzed open. Messer, Gabby, and Ito came in. Messer looked angry that he’d had to cut his interrogation short.

  “So what’s so important?”

  “We have two dead bodies,” Cass said, handing the data tablet over. “The Eye has confirmed that Dr. Harris was murdered along the Trans-City Highway near Shadowlake by two unidentified gunmen. And when an APD patrol responded to a call from city sanitation over in Alpdruck, they found what was left of the leshy, Boris Derevadim. He’d been ripped up and left in a dumpster. Initial forensics found hairs on the corpse.”

  “Cat hairs?” Messer asked.

  Cass nodded. “Affirmative.”

  “Okay, Gabby, Ito, and I will take a quick trip down to the Rot and have another talk with Mr. Whiskers.”

  “And us?”

  Messer looked at the clock on the wall. “Y’all are off duty.”

  “You’re sidelining us?” Cass asked.

  Messer shook his head. “Y’all need some down time. Come morning, I want you three fresh.”

  “We don’t need it,” Jessie said. “We’re good to go.”

  “Wasn’t a request,” Messer said. “You’ve done good work today. Don’t fuck it up by overworking yourself and making a mistake. So go on and get out of here. Way I hear it, Detective Deacon won himself another couple of bets.”

  Cass’s head snapped over. “You told him, didn’t you?”

  Jessie shook her head. “I’m honest, but not that honest. Besides, you’ve been with me since we came back. When would I have had time to . . . Arby?”

  “Are you accusing me . . . of gloating?”

  “Yes.”

  “You heard the detective sergeant,” Eric said. “We’re off the clock!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  14 May 5:28 pm

  Avalantis Prison - The Black Obelisk - AKA “The Rot”

  “So that’s the new team?” Ito asked.

  “Yup,” Messer said.

  “Not too different from when you trained me and the others.”

  “Nope,” Messser said as he, Ito, and Gabby stepped onto the ley-line transport pad.

  Blue light flashed and transported the trio from the First Precinct’s holding and detention facility to the Black Obelisk, deep below Avalantis. Once they materialized, a quartet of Svartlfar dark-elf guards, three male and one female, greeted them. The dark elves were armed with blades, guns, and worst of all . . . paperwork.

  “Gentlemen, Lady,” Messer said as he flashed his MORTAL badge. “We’re here to see the prisoner known as ‘Mr. Whiskers’.”

  Gabby said something in elvish and the dark elves began to laugh and make cat sounds.

  “Yeah, it’s a dumb name,” Messer said, then leaned over to begin filling out the proper forms.

  “So, Cassy,” said Ito.

  Messer nodded as he worked. “What about her?”

  “I think she’ll be a great asset to MORTAL.”

  “She will,” Messer agreed. “So will the rest of them.”

  “You sure? I like Arby and all, but—?”

  “Each of them came highly recommended. Besides, you and your team sucked when I trained you. Now look at you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You suck less,” Messer said with a grin.

  Ito nodded. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” Then his face darkened. “You—you won’t tell Cass that I was the one who recommended her for a position, will you?”

  “Why? Don’t think she’ll take it well?” Messer asked as he finished the final form.

  “Well, let me answer your question with a question,” Ito said. “You’ve met my ex-wife, you’ve read her file. What’re the odds that she’ll assume this was either A, a pity hire, or B, my attempt to get us back together? Either way, I think we’ll get to C, where she pulls her gun.”

  “I don’t think she’d shoot you,” Messer said.

  Gabby looked up, pondering the question. Then she shrugged and mimed a pair of finger guns.

  “See, Gabby gets it.”

  “I didn’t say she wouldn’t hurt you, just not shoot you. My guess would be another taser.”

  “Is that better?”

  “She won’t hear it from my lips,” Messer chuckled as he clipped on the visitor badge, then passed the other two to Ito and Gabby.

  “Thanks,” Ito said. “So, what are the odds Whiskers will talk?”

  Messer pondered the question, then tapped the digital visitor log. “Not likely.”

  Ito looked at the log and saw what Messer was alluding to. “Mr. Gareth Vikander of Dolmades Legal Defense? So, his lawyer finally came, eh?”

  “Yeah, apparently earlier today. But since Whiskers is still here in the holding level, he’s likely getting ready to be bailed out. Which means he’ll keep his mouth shut. But his mind must be racing. This will be our only shot.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Is that the same best you put into your marriage?” Messer asked.

  “Low blow, Jim. Low blow.”

  ********

  14 May 6:00 pm

  Draco Leges Partnership, Legal Practice, District of New Dorado

  “Good evening, Mr. Smith,” Katarina Agne said. “I trust all is well with you?”

  “That depends,” the Laughing Man said. “As you know, I am quite a horticulturalist.”

  “As I understand it, several of your vegetable crops have gone bad due to some sort of infestation?”

  “That is correct. Blue birds that seem to be pecking at the fruits of my labor.”

  “That’s a shame, Mr. Smith,” Katarina said. “There are times when you simply have to slash and burn an entire field. Once it lies fallow, then the compost from the old crop will be the perfect fertilizer for new beginnings.”

  “No, I believe I can salvage most of the harvest.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes,” the Laughing Man said. “Although I may need some extra field hands.”

  “While not my area of expertise, I’ve taken the liberty of dispatching several professionals to assist you in this matter.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Smith. We at Draco Leges value all of our clients. Your business is our business. As one of our esteemed partners, we wish nothing more than your continued success.”

  “Oh, Ms. Agne?’

  “Yes, Mr. Smith?”

  “Your continued assistance is a shining example of what people can do when they are competent and thorough.”

  “Well, I appreciate that, Mr. Smith. Is there anything else you require?”

  “I assume the rest of my legal holdings are in order?”

  “Of course. As I said, we greatly value your contributions to the firm.”

  “And my pet cat?” the Laughing Man asked.

  Katarina sighed. “I regret to inform you, Mr. Smith, that your pet cat has gone to live on a farm upstate.”

  “Oh dear,” the Laughing Man said. “Well, that’s a shame. I liked that cat. Alas, if it was his time, it was his time. Have yourself a wonderful evening, Ms. Agne.”

  “You as well, Mr. Smith.”

  ********

  14 May, 6:15 pm

  Avalantis Prison - The Black Obelisk - AKA “The Rot”

  “Something tells me he’s not gonna talk,” Ito said as he crossed his arms.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Messer agreed. It was hard to argue with Ito’s astute assessment. After all, the weretiger hung there. Dead.

  Two guards—one human, one orc—opened the cell and allowed Messer to step through. Once inside, Messer looked over the gruesome scene. Somehow, Whiskers
had managed to fashion a noose out of his prison jumpsuit and kill himself without alerting any of the guards. His tongue was lolled out and his eyes were bulged. There was no visible sign of struggle. The cell stank of cat urine and feces.

  “I’ve seen enough,” Messer said to the guards. “Get him down.”

  “I thought these guys wore a life sign monitor at all times,” Ito said as he waved a hand in front of his nose.

  “They do,” Messer said, pointing at the ankle bracelet on Whiskers’s left leg.

  “Then what happened?” Ito asked. “If he was set for bail, why would he do this?”

  Gabby drew a line across her throat, then pressed it to her lips.

  Messer nodded at the tall elf. “Yeah. He killed himself to prevent anyone from learning anything.”

  “Smart,” Ito said.

  Messer turned and stared at the younger agent.

  “What?” Ito asked. “I’m not saying ‘woo hoo glad he’s dead’, and it definitely sucks for our case. But you have to admire the man’s moxie. He’d rather die then snitch. That’s commitment.”

  “I guess,” Messer said.

  The guards undid the noose and lowered the body to the cell’s floor. Messer gave the corpse a final look-over, committing everything to memory. Satisfied, he turned to leave. “Let’s go.”

  Ito and Gabby fell in behind him. The three agents made their way from the holding area back up to the prison’s admin level. When they reached the situation room, the warden was waiting on them.

  “Warden Osirin,” Messer said, extending a hand towards the wizard.

  “Jim,” Warden Osirin said, taking his hand in her own. “What the hell happened down there?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me, Bethany,” Messer said. “The guards have anything to report?”

  “No,” Osirin said, sounding defeated. She smoothed her red and black robes and then ran a hand over her shaved head. It was clear she was as frustrated and angry as he was. “The ones I’ve spoken to didn’t know anything, and a truth spell confirmed it. Our monitoring system thinks he’s still alive.”

  “The dark elves?”

  “The Svartalfar are furious,” Osirin added. “How this could have happened here, without their, or my, knowledge is alarming to say the least.”